#i can meet 1 million people & be an absolute angel to them & they can reach the consensus that i am a good person
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Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of October. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!
1) You Control Me (Even If Its Just Tonight) | Explicit | 1591 words
Louis rides Harry and thinks he's in control.
2) Save a Horse | Explicit | 2400 words
Louis goes to a rodeo with Liam, and gets a lot more than he bargained for. Featuring bull rider Harry, obnoxious t-shirts, and one hell of a night.
3) El Comienzo De Una Vida | Teen & Up | 2779 words
Note: There is no smut in this fic, but it contains omega Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup. This fic is the second part of a series.
After being bartered to Harry to save his kingdom, Louis is on his way to the Alpha's homeland and he would very much like him to stop being so cautious and just kiss him, god damn it!
4) A Treat For You And A Treat For Me | Explicit | 3416 words
Louis blushed at Harry’s flirty tone. “You’re just saying that to get in my pants.” He giggled, half joking. “But thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
“Not just to get in your pants, baby. I’m being honest. You’re always cute. Are you wearing mascara?” He asked, licking over his lips. Louis in makeup always did something to Harry. He loved it.
Louis nodded, leaning forward. “I am. Do you like it? I’m also wearing some cute Halloween panties under my costume.. if you wanna see them later?” He murmured, letting his lips touch Harry’s lightly before pulling away, a tiny smile on his lips.
Harry’s mouth opened a bit, but no words came out. Instead Louis was lifted up and carried in Harry’s arms, up the stairs. “Later? I wanna see them now.” He whispered into Louis’ ear, hot breath sending shivers down Louis’ body. “Missed you so much since last time.”
5) A Kiss For Then, A Kiss For Now (And A Million More) | Mature | 6073 words
Note: There is no smut in this fic, but it contains omega Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup. This is the sequel to this fic.
A collection of moments from Petal's life with her mummy, the stinky alpha and their new baby boy.
6) Terror At Our Door | Explicit | 6201 words
A hurt man comes to Harry's home on Halloween, bringing in a world of mystery that Styles didn't want at all.
What a shame that feelings are involved too.
7) Fight Me Breathless | Mature | 7596 words
Louis Tomlinson has no idea why he’s in a London hospital for asthma, but enter Harry Styles, his doctor, who he definitely doesn’t think is hot, and he’s left wondering if asthma is why he can’t seem to breathe properly with his doctor around.
8) This Ain't Red Wine | Explicit | 9054 words
It’s not until he gets a whiff of the contents of his glass that Louis realizes his grave mistake.
That’s not red wine.
It’s blood.
It’s probably not the most rational, but his first thought is what people are going to think when they discover his body. On the list of stupidest ways for a human to die, accidentally turning up to a Vampire party has to be pretty high up there.
9) Colder Weather | Explicit | 15132 words
Note: Please remember to check tags for any trigger warnings.
Louis doesn’t know what comes over him. “Please H-Harry, take me,” Louis looks back at the farmhouse, swallowing once as his skittish eyes fall onto the master bedroom window, “Take me with you, please.”
Harry’s scent flares, the tinged anger so noticeable that Louis draws back out of the alpha’s space.
“Is he hittin’ on you?”
Louis’ right hand rests briefly against the bruise forming rapidly over the right side of his rib cage, the darkness of the night hiding the movement. “No.”
10) Those Who From The Pit Of Hell, Roam To Seek Their Prey On Earth | Explicit | 17636 words
1889. Louis Tomlinson is a student at the prestigious Harrow School for Boys, nurturing his passion for forensic medicine under the care of a particularly mysterious and dark teacher, Harry Styles, who has set his main focus on a series of gruesome murders, all of them reflecting the year 1888, when Jack the Ripper went rampant in the poor streets of Whitechapel.
11) The Shining Distraction That Makes Me Fly Home | General Audiances | 19397 words
Note: There is no smut in this fic, but it contains omega Louis, so we’ve included it in this monthly roundup.
An omega Louis and an alpha Harry find themselves in a forced marriage that gives Louis the freedom he desires in exchange for Harry being chained up a bit more.
12) Welcome to The Rivalry | Mature | 19671 words
“Welcome home!” Niall yelled, clapping his hands in excitement. “Isn’t it great?”
Louis looked between Niall and the house, unsure how to respond.
“I don’t understand,” Louis finally managed to say. “Aren’t we a little old to be living so close to campus?”
Niall scoffed. “You’re only twenty-four for fuck’s sake. There is still plenty of partying left for us to do. What better place than one street over from where a car was set on fire after the Michigan game last year?”
“Is there proof of that? Did the car have Michigan plates or something? Is there a photo I can send in a DM to Wolfie?”
As if on cue, a Twitter notification popped up on Louis’ Apple watch. He had tweeted again.
13) Welcome to the Bottom of the World | Not Rated | 20859 words
Louis is an American musher/expedition guide, Harry is a scientist from England. They meet in the middle of Antarctica, what could go wrong?
14) Reach The Heavens Own Blue | Explicit | 21070 words
He steps up to the plate, eyes glazing over as he watches Harry chew sunflower seeds, his jaw moving obnoxiously and exaggeratedly. His eyes drag down Harry’s body, settling on his large bulge, accentuated in those sinful pinstripe pants. The lines cut across it just right, curving where he’s thickest. Louis wants to crawl across the dirt on his knees and just take what Harry gives him.
Louis shuts his eyes for a moment, opening them to find Harry staring at him with a smug expression. He fucking knows. Louis gets into position and waits for the pitch. He swings when Harry throws, missing the ball just barely. Strike one.
15) Terror Of Surrender | Explicit | 31566 words
Harry instructs them to step into Crescent Lunge, stopping when he gets to Louis to adjust his hips. “I think you can bend a little more.” He helps Louis deepen the stretch, his hands tight on his hips. “Good boy.”
Louis gasps quietly, his eyes snapping to Harry’s, his heart pounding in his chest. Harry’s eyes drop to his lips, his hands smoothing down Louis’ stretched thighs, then he’s turning and walking to the front of the class.
16) Eyes Off You | Explicit | 39396 words
A Charlie’s Angels inspired fic where Louis is the brains, Harry is the charm, Liam is the muscle, and Niall drives the getaway car - and Zayn is there, too. sometimes.
17) Puncture | Mature | 43383 words
Note; This fic has mentions of BH.
An alternate universe where Harry bites Louis and hates the taste of his blood but is still obsessed with him anyway.
18) Your Touch Shouldn't Make Me Feel Like This | Explicit | 48883 words
Uni AU in which Alpha Harry has been in love with his omega friend for the longest time and one motorbike trip to the countryside with Louis made him realize that he could no longer hold back his feelings.
19) Just A Flicker In The Dark | Explicit | 57191 words
Harry Styles is his case partner. High and mighty, annoyingly smug Harry Styles who’s known him for years and has fucking seen him naked for fuck’s sake.
He glances at Venus who’s blinking up at him with curious eyes, no doubt sensing the agitation sparking in his magic.
“This is not happening,” Louis says loudly. “This is not fucking happening. I am going to kill Liam, oh my god.” He doesn’t even know if Liam is responsible for this but it feels like something he’d do to drive Louis absolutely insane - exes don’t just show up to your assigned haunted house out of nowhere. “Fucking fuck!”
He nearly jumps when Harry knocks again, his muffled voice carrying through the wood. “I can hear you, you know,” he drawls, sounding frustratingly amused.
Louis exhales, resisting the urge to scream.
20) Wild Thing | Mature | 65962 words
Harry doesn’t think love is for him, until Louis shows him just how wild love is.
21) Three Days in February | Explicit | 187642 words
Louis is cursed after a night out with the lads and the five have just three days to figure out what happened and how to break it before Harry and Louis both lose their sanity and maybe something more. Louis can hear everything Harry thinks and Harry isn’t sure he can keep his feelings for Louis a secret from his own mind.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.
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No. 1
Requested by: @mirukobecomingbothered
I might have gotten carried away with the headcanon, I'm sorry! 🥺🥺 I added a few twists of my own and I hope it reached your expectations. I hope you like it! ♥️♥️♥️
Pairings: Hitoshi Shinsou x reader, Katsuki Bakugou x reader
Status: Unedited
Genre: Fluff with a tiny weeny bit of angst.
Quick Background:
An outcast because of a 'villainous' quirk? Check.
Do you have friends? Not sure if you can call them your friends when they are all blithering idiots who want to mess with the spirits.
Does everyone think that you will be a villain someday? Every time.
Is everyone afraid of you because you look like you've been dead for the past five years but still walking above ground? Absolutely!
When do people see your cat do they automatically think that you are a witch? Yes, but more like a demon in disguise.
You shrugged them off, your quirk might be on the freaky and terrifying side but it is powerful.
Contrary to popular belief, ghosts are nice, most of the time. Maybe a bit clingy and attention seeker towards you since you are the only one who can see and hear them.
They are a nice company to be around. Most of them.
There was a time you used to hate your quirk, there never seems to be a privacy when you see those supernatural things.
You see things you wish you couldn't, things that can go beyond your imagination.
Everyone thinks the worst in you, and there are days when they get to you.
When that happens, the ghosts always have your back.
You try your best to prove them wrong, and when you got into UA and placed top 5 in the sports festival, some perspective changed, and some called you a freak.
Though they are all wimps since they can't say it directly in your face or around your friends, especially your boyfriend.
Lord knows what'll happen when someone talks shit about you around them.
They probably met Jesus soon after.
Shinsou Hitoshi
Straight off the bat, your favourite date, past time, and other couple activities are sleeping.
Him catching up on his well-deserved sleep and you calm your mind from everything.
Nothing in between.
Naps in the couch, beside the window, your rooms, maybe beside the window in the common room after stargazing.
You have to pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands.
This sleepy boi understands the pain and suffering you go through the best, especially since he's been there.
Both of you start as acquaintances.
You met him when your cat decided to give you a heart attack by running off to who knows where and not coming back for h o u r s.
It freaked you out since staying out late is unlikely of your lazy ass cat.
Despite your fatigue from training, you rushed outside to find them.
You didn't have to look for too long, you found them at the park accompanied by an Einstein inspired purple-haired guy with a UA uniform.
You let out a breath of relief, it didn't last long as anger bubbled up in your chest.
Yelling out their name that startled not only your cat and the guy, but the rest of the people at the park as well.
Shinso stared at you scolding your cat whilst bringing them in your arms.
Amused and curious at the same time.
Thinking that you took that TikTok meme "I'm alive but I'm dead" a little too far.
A chuckle that left his lips and your glare started a long interesting talk.
Both of you started eating lunch together at school with the Dekusquad.
A few teasing looks from Uraraka when he sat down beside you and greeted you before anyone else.
They started inviting him to your hangouts outside of the school and study dates.
It happened almost every day once he transferred from class 1-A.
A month after that Uraraka and Kaminari started teasing the both of you.
It confused you when they made a big deal about you and Shinsou spending more time with each other than the rest of the class.
It only confused you further when Shinsou started blushing every time you look at him or even go anywhere near him.
He finally confessed to you when both of you got stuck in the closet playing 7 Minutes In Heaven.
It was hard to listen to him because of the endless teasing of your ghost friends.
They approved of him the moment he talked and looked at you like a normal human being.
Shinsou as a friend was protective of you, knowing all of the nasty looks and what people say about you because of something uncontrollable.
And now that you're his girlfriend? Oh boy, haters can run but they can't hide.
He is the most chill person you will ever meet.
But once you decided to talk shit about his girl, just pray my dude.
Or beg for mercy.
If they are one in a million lucky ones, it might work.
But they're not so.
Not even Aizawa can stop him, cause he will turn blind eye.
Nobody talks shit to any of his children students and stay alive to tell the tale.
The both of you are his prodigies, they know nothing of the hard work you both put in your training with him.
You and your boyfriend are the best in stealth missions and gathering information.
You use your friends to gather information undetectable and Shinsou tricking the villains to brainwash them.
In short, you guys are the power couple of Class 1-A and everyone agrees.
A force to be reckoned with.
Besides, no one can pull off the cosplay of Morticia and Gomez Addams better than both of you can.
You rely on each other when times get rough and needed reassurance.
Being each other's rock to hold on and find comfort in.
Shinsou will wrap his arms around you as you spill everything to him.
Reassuring you that you are his hero, muttering sweet things in your ear, stroking your hair to calm you down, and humming you to sleep.
He knows what it feels like to hate something that is apart of you.
And he tries his best to make you see the best in the worst you think of yourself.
Everything about you is beautiful, nothing that is apart of you is worth hating.
Honestly, you couldn't wish for anyone better to be your significant other.
They can call you anything they want, but you will always be an angel in his eyes.
All of them can keep talking, and he finds great pleasure once they see your true power and find themselves speechless.
"That's my girl."
Bakugou Katsuki:
Not gonna lie, he will probably think that you are a zombie or somewhat related to them.
From the moment you walked through the door, slouched back, droopy red eyes, panda-like eye bags underneath, paper white skin that is unhealthy to look at, he was certain that you are going to collapse at any given moment.
He scoffed, wondering how the hell you managed to get into UA, let alone the Hero class.
Were you even in the right class or are you just that tired to not see that huge ass sign at the door?
Either way, he didn't care.
So long as you don't stand in his way from being the best, which is highly unlikely to happen in his eyes.
So imagine his shock when you managed to score higher than him in the Physical Assessment Test.
What in the hell?
"Hey, freak bitch! How the hell did you score higher than me?! What are you playing at?!"
Kirishima immediately held him back and apologized profusely to you.
Bakugou's anger at you only increased when you only stared at him blankly before rolling your eyes and walked away.
Throughout the rest of the day, whenever he tries to call you or even go near you, he finds himself tripping over nothing or his things randomly dropping.
To say it freaks him out will be an understatement.
However, that didn't stop him from pestering you.
Constantly asking yelling- at you demanding your quirk and challenging you for a fight.
You're nonchalant response and sassy remarks only ticked him off.
The two on two activity was useless since you did nothing and Todoroki handled the rest.
Cue the USJ incident and he is finally satisfied when he saw your quirk at first hand.
Skeletons rising from the ground and villains mysteriously flying away from you when they get too close to you.
He immediately put everything together and he is ecstatic.
An unusual quirk but powerful nonetheless.
Katsuki finds himself watching you in the classroom and during training.
Finding your quirk nothing short of weird and curiosity of finding out how you use it is eating him alive.
Sometimes, he catches you talking to yourself and it only makes him more curious.
And think that you are crazy.
The moment you agreed to challenge him was the beginning of your friendship.
He overheard a few girls that you went to school with talking about your hideous appearance and quirk when walking towards the school for training.
A slight twinge in his heart when he saw you, although your face didn't reveal anything, your eyes sure did.
He dragged you by the arm to go faster and reassured you in his blunt way.
After that training with Bakugou became a routine.
The Bakusquad saw you both walking out of the park.
You declined their offer of going out saying that you have something to do and Bakugou just saying that he's not interested in going.
So the teasing of when both of you will make it official happens every. Single. Day.
Be it weekends or weekdays.
They will not stop their teasing even if they are on the verge of death.
Your bond with Katsuki strengthened when you came to rescue him from the villains and when he failed the Provisional License exams.
You were the first one to notice his change and the first and only one to confront him.
He was shocked.
He thought he had it hidden well but not to you.
At first, he was hesitant to tell you anything. But one hug from you and his walls came crashing down.
After that incident, you came to each other to open up.
You told him how you hate your quirk sometimes. Seeing things that gives you nightmares and paranoia.
In a short but somewhat sweet way, he told you about how those fears make you a stronger person. Physically and mentally.
He's by your side no matter what happens, he won't let you go through this alone.
To further emphasize it, he gave you a one arm hug.
He asked you out a few weeks later, quietly and all blushy face which was the first for him.
Of course you said yes.
You both agreed to keep your relationship a secret from everyone until Halloween where - much to everyone's surprise- he joined in.
The real icing on the cake was when they saw you both in a cliche couple, Harley Quinn and Joker.
Mina and Kirishima were the first ones to realize and Denki being the last.
You are practically inseparable after you relieved your relationship.
Anyone who talks badly about you and your quirk won't last long in the face of the earth.
Katsuki Bakugou is already explosive enough as he is, and you decided to talk shit about the love of his life?
Girl/Boy bye.
I hope you crossed everything off your bucket list cause the last thing you will see and hear is the sound of his explosions.
He once asked you about what your spirits think of him.
You were silent for a while before you replied, "I don't think you wanna know."
You know he won't stop there, he kept pestering you, again and again, every chance he gets to ask.
Annoyed you told him.
"They think you are a crusty pomeranian and they find you amusing since it's a miracle that you still have your voice after al those yelling."
They like annoying him, whenever you both are alone, they whisper things to you that'll get you to giggle and he'll angrily question what they were talking about.
Making his things fall or mess with his hair.
They like him for you.
As long as he keeps you safe and happy, they'll keep him safe and sound.
From the villains and the bad spirits.
Random:
You have the perfect quirk to scare the living hell of your friends and family during Halloween season.
Who are you to deny the advantages of it. 😏😏😏
Various crosses and other blessed items by the priest litter around your room to keep the spirits away.
#Request#hitoshi shinso headcanons#hitoshi shinsou#hitoshi shinso x reader#hitoshi shinso x y/n#shinsou hitoshi#shinsou x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki bakugou x you#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugou headcanons#bakugou katsuki headcanons
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Heaven Bent part 2
Daryl Dixon x female reader
Part 1
Summary: The reader finds Sophia lost in the woods, too bad neither of them have any sense of direction.
A/n: Thanks for the support on part 1! Daryl is probably the hardest character I've ever written for. I've got a lot of ideas for this fic, just hoping I stay motivated. Thanks @ewokiee for all the help especially when I’m stuck!
You groaned, rolling over to your side and snuggling further into the covers. This had to be the softest bed in the world, with fluffy plush pillows stuffed with down feathers under your head and a thick warm blanket draped over your body. You wanted nothing more than to stay here and never leave. God, this was a million times better than cold nights sleeping on the ground, this bed was heaven, absolute heaven.
However, how you got here though was still a bit foggy, the last thing you could remember was an angel with a horse coming to save you and Sophia. Maybe this truly was heaven you thought to yourself. Either way, you were better off here than you were in that forest.
You peeked an eye open as you heard the door creak. An old man with white hair stepped into the room. There was an air of wisdom and sensibility about him.
“God?” You whispered, sitting up slightly.
The man gave you a skeptical look. “You must still be delirious,” he mused. “I’m Hershel, and this is my home.”
You nodded, taking a better look around. The room was decorated nicely, a typical farmhouse interior with white trim around the doorframe and windows. Definitely a nice place though.
He walked over to the side of the bed and looked you over. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” you answered, stretching your arms above your head.
“Good,” Hershel muttered. “When you first got here you weren’t making a lick of sense. You and that girl were in those woods for at least a week.”
“How is she?”
“She’s going to be alright. She just needs to rest,” he explained. “Most people had given up hope on finding her, my guess is she would’ve died without your help.”
You nodded, satisfied knowing Sophia was going to be okay.“That reminds me,” you started. “Where’d my angel go?”
Hershel quirked an eyebrow. “Angel?” He repeated.
“Yeah, I was saved by an angel,” you explained, trying to remember what he looked like exactly. You recalled his wings and halo, and that he didn't quite act like an angel should.
Hershel stifled a laugh, “That man is a lot of things, but I doubt he’s any kind of angel.”
“I know, but he’s an angel to me,” You looked down fiddling with the blanket on your lap, “I’d like to thank him now that I’m thinking more clearly… I can’t remember if I did when he found us.”
Hershel nodded, “If I see him, I’ll send him this way. Trish will be bringing up something for you to eat and some clean clothes.”
“Thank you,” you smiled, your eyes meeting his before he left the room.
…
In long strides, Daryl headed towards the RV, wanting to check in real quick on Sophia and Carol.
The look on everyone’s face when he returned with her and a stranger ranged from genuine surprise to shock.
Carol ran as fast as she could, meeting him at the edge of the woods. Immediately she crumbled to her knees, crying, as Daryl placed Sophie in her arms, muttering thank you over and over again.
Other than Daryl, it seemed like no one else believed that Sophia was still alive out there, and most of them had given up on finding her too.
Daryl thought back to you, back to the way you smiled at him while you were delirious, it was an image he couldn’t get out of his head. He couldn’t remember a time anyone else ever looked at him like that.
Just as the RV was in sight, Daryl could overhear voices coming from the woods nearby. Carefully, he wandered over, curious as to who was being so secretive.
Even with their voices hushed, it didn’t take Daryl long to identify who was talking. He frowned to himself listening closer, it was Rick and Shane, and from the sound of it, they were fighting over something.
“So what? We’re supposed to take in every stray we meet?” Shane argued.
“She helped one of our own,” Rick reasoned, stepping forward. “Sophia is alive because of her. We owe it to this woman.”
“We aren’t living in that kind of world anymore,” Shane insisted, gritting his teeth.
“Take a look around you,” Rick hissed. “We’re here right now because of the decency of others, we aren’t those kinds of people, we aren’t animals, we aren’t just gonna abandon her.”
Daryl huffed as Shane tried to pull that same bullshit like he did over the search for Sophia. All that survival of the fittest crap. If that really were the case, their group would only consist of him, Rick, and Shane.
“Daryl should’ve left her in those woods,” Shane spat. “We can’t afford to have another mouth to worry about.”
Daryl clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white. Shane was really starting to show his true colors, a part of Daryl was beginning to think the group would be better off without that asshole.
Rick shook his head, he couldn’t believe Shane would even suggest telling that woman she had to go, to send her back out there on her own. And now this? Did he really think so little about the lives of others?
“I don’t know what your problem is, but all that shit about numbers or math or whatever ain’t right, she’s a person, a good person… She stays. End of story.”
Rick stared Shane down, making his point crystal clear. He knew the rest of the group would agree with him if it came to the point of getting the others involved. Rick had no idea what was going on inside Shane’s head, but it was sending him red flags.
Finally, Shane scoffed and stomped away, obviously still pissed off.
Sighing, Rick ran a hand over his face, he was going to need to keep a closer eye on Shane. This wasn’t the first time he’s made Rick worry. Shane was acting unpredictably lately, and some of his behavior was off the rails, there was no telling what he might do next.
Daryl started walking back the way he came, for a hot second there it seemed like things might have gotten ugly, in which he would’ve stepped in and backed Rick up.
…
You took another big bite of the apple Trish had brought up, moaning as you savored the taste, it felt like ages since you had fresh produce.
“You can take a shower in there,” Trish explained gesturing to the attached bathroom. She sat some clean clothes on the dresser for you. “Tried to find you some things in your size, hope they fit alright.”
Your eyes widened as you processed what she just said… you could take a shower? You almost wanted to celebrate over the news. Honestly, ever since waking up it felt like you had won some kind of lottery or a free vacation. You thanked her as she left the room.
The moment she was gone, you scurried out of the bed, stripping out of the dingy clothing you had been wearing for the last week. You could only imagine how terrible you smelled, surprised anyone welcomed you into such a nice home.
Turning on the faucet to the tub, you practically squealed when the water started heating up. Carefully, you removed your jewelry, setting it all down on the sink.
You couldn’t even describe the sound you made as you stepped in under the showerhead. It was a strange mix between a sigh, a laugh, and a moan.
A week’s worth of grime and dirt rinsed off your body and down the drain. You scrubbed every inch of yourself, wanting to make sure you took full advantage of this chance. Who knows if you’d be fortunate enough to meet anyone else with a working shower on your travels.
For a few extra minutes, you just stood under the running water, enjoying every second of warm water before finally getting out of the shower.
…
“Ah, there you are,” Hershel said as Daryl approached the house. The old man was sitting in a chair on the porch, keeping an eye on Rick’s group. “Our new guest was asking for you.”
Daryl narrowed his eyes, unsure what you’d want from him.
"She seems to think she and that little girl have a guardian angel looking out for them," Hershel chuckled.
Daryl scowled. "Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout," he grumbled, climbing up the steps of the porch.
Being inside the farm house made Daryl feel uncomfortable like he was too dirty or something. All his life he couldn’t remember being welcomed into a house this nice looking.
Careful not to touch anything, he started going up the stairs. He didn’t even dare to touch the white banister, worried that he was tracking in dirt on his boots.
He knocked on the door and stuffed his hands back into pockets.
“Come in,” you called, still drying your hair. You were grinning like an idiot when Daryl stepped in. “There’s my angel!” You announced.
"Will you knock it off with all that angel crap?" Daryl demanded trying his best to be intimidating and tough.
You giggled, setting the towel down, and approached him. Your eyes and smile were the same, the exact same as they had been the first time you had mistaken him for an angel. He’d never admit it out loud, but he liked it, the way that you saw him.
“Why? As far as I’m concerned you’re heaven sent. Without you, me and Sophia would’ve died out there.”
Daryl turned his head away, rubbing the back of his neck, he’d be damned if he allowed you to catch him blushing.
“Anyways, I asked for you, cause I wanted to say thank you,” you explained, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder, right before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks,” you murmured.
Daryl scoffed, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. “It was nothin’.”
You shook your head, “it wasn’t nothing.”
His piercing eyes met yours and your heart practically stopped. Just as you were about to lean forward again, Daryl cleared his throat, “you oughta put on a shirt, before going out there.”
You laughed, grabbing the white tee off the dresser, you were too distracted by Daryl to realize you were only wearing pants and a bra.
He rolled his eyes and left the room closing the door behind him. As you were pulling the shirt over your head you could hear him slowly descending the stairs muttering something to himself.
…
“You mean it?” You asked Rick flabbergasted, worried you didn’t hear him right. “Are you really saying I can stay with you all?”
“I am,” Rick nodded. “As far as I’m concerned you're one of us.”
With an excited shriek, you slung your arms around his neck in a quick hug. “Thank you!”
Rick laughed and patted your back.
You were ecstatic, when he asked to speak with alone and had pulled you to the side away from everyone, you assumed he was going to tell you that you had to go. But instead you received the best news imaginable for your situation.
As you pulled away from Rick, you felt someone watching you, it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand.
Looking around you saw a man with a buzzed haircut who was stalking off, he hadn’t spoken a word to you or bothered to introduce himself, but you heard the others refer to him as Shane. His body language was very aggressive, he was definitely pissed about something.
Once he was out of sight, you rubbed your arms up and down getting rid of the goosebumps that had appeared and made a mental note to avoid that man as much as possible. Whoever he was, he was giving off some serious bad vibes and nothing good was going to come of it.
“Did he tell you!?” An excited voice screeched, snapping you out of your stupor. Two thin arms wrapped around your middle, hugging you tightly.
You laughed, “he did!”
“So that means you’re staying with us, right?” Sophia asked, practically squeezing the life out of you.
“Yep.”
Looking up from Sophia, you saw her mother standing nearby, a soft smile on her face as she watched the two of you.
You gave her a small wave, before returning Sophia’s hug.
…
You settled into a routine with the group rather quickly, helping out with whatever you could from laundry to going on runs with Glenn. They were all friendly people for the most part with the exception of Shane.
Anytime the man was around, it put you on edge even with the others around. It seemed pretty apparent that he didn’t like you much, he’d seem perfectly fine until he noticed that you were nearby. All you could hope for was that he wouldn’t try to persuade Rick to force you to leave.
You were humming a random song to yourself while hanging laundry on the clothesline. It was a good day for it, plenty of sunshine and even a nice breeze, these clothes would dry in no time.
Reaching down into the wicker basket, you pulled out a white t-shirt, as you were pinning it to the line someone grabbed your forearm.
You gasped, where the hell did Shane come from?
“Shane,” you stuttered, wrenching your arm out of his grasp. “You scared me.”
He looked down at you, his eyes full of hatred towards you. “You’re going to get us all killed.”
You furrowed your brow, “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb,” He snapped, shaking his head. “Not everyone is capable of surviving this… you’re weak…”
You shrunk back, worried that whatever you did or tried next would only set him off.
He took another step forward, “I’ll be damned if I let you risk it for the rest of us.”
Daryl's eyes narrowed as he came out of the woods. His grip on his crossbow tightening. Your body language alone was enough for him to notice that you were uncomfortable.
“Hey!” Daryl shouted. “Thought you wanted me to teach you how to skin an animal.” He held up the rabbits he just caught.
You blinked in surprise, looking at Daryl, his expression was practically murderous as he stared at Shane, who immediately backed off, taking a few steps away from you.
“Well I ain’t got all day,” Daryl complained, gesturing for you to come with him.
Finally, it dawned on you what he was doing.
“R-Right,” you squeaked, quickly shuffling away and over to Daryl. You kept your head down, still feeling Shane’s eyes on you.
“C’mon,” Daryl said, gently placing a hand on your upper back and guiding you back towards the RV.
“Thanks, Angel,” you murmured, once you believed you were far away enough that Shane couldn’t hear you.
“Don’t mention it,” he muttered, turning around and giving Shane a dirty look. The next time that asshole decides to corner you like that, Daryl was going to beat the shit out of him.
Tags: @xaestheticalien @twdeadfanfic @amaroho
#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon imagine#daryl x you#twd fanfic#twd#twd fanfiction#the walking dead fanfic
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wish i could pretend i didn't need you (1/?)
Summary: Beca Mitchell is born into a life of organized crime, directionless and despondent. Then she meets Chloe Beale.
Word count: 3,347
I know everybody’s focused on Bechloe week stuff and I know there are other things going on, especially with my own fics. But somehow this fic burst out of me in a stroke of inspiration. So to people to whom I still owe prompts/gifts: I’m sorry. I don’t anticipate this fic going beyond 15 chapters, hell we’ll see what happens around the 10 chapter mark based on what I plotted.
Read below or on AO3.
It is a Friday night.
Beca finds herself at her favorite bar. It is an odd hybrid between a karaoke hangout for people who are too drunk to realize how bad they’re doing and a lowkey, dimly-lit hang-out spot where she can be herself without her usual cares and concerns.
“You can go,” Beca says pointedly to her driver. He raises an eyebrow at her. “Seriously,” she promises. “I just want to be alone. I’ll call you if I…” she sighs. “Why am I explaining this to you? Please, just go,” she begs. She hates feeling like a child who needs a constant babysitter. She hates feeling watched and followed, even if it is for her own safety like everybody claims.
It’s tiring, that’s what it is.
Without waiting to see whether the car leaves, Beca turns to quickly make her way inside her safe haven. The bar downtown. A bar with music and drinks and a semblance of normalcy in a city that refuses to define the term ‘normal’ without a million asterisks.
A normal Friday night in Los Angeles.
She likes the music that wraps around her the moment she enters the bar. Barely decipherable because of how loud the bar is. It is the perfect way to both lose herself and be lost in the crowd and the atmosphere of a typical Friday night.
Beca knows exactly what she’s looking for. It’s been a while since she’s had one night of mindless, anonymous sex. She doesn’t think herself too picky, just selective about the kind of woman she can find. Nobody to get attached to, at least not for more than a couple trysts. Nobody too curious.
In her line of work, dating is overrated and entirely unnecessary.
Beca starts at the bar. A quick scan up and down the wooden surface, she can see only completely full drinks and people with dates of their own. The thought makes her scoff—makes her order a drink immediately, then proceed to down it quickly. With the burn in her throat and renewed energy, she quickly scans the crowded space, eyes trained to pick up on significant movements and significant people.
It is then, with a second drink in hand, that Beca spots her. Her eyes catch on this stranger’s hair—the pretty red hair, glinting under shoddy lighting—before her eyes are drawn to the stranger’s easy smile. She appears to be alone as well, or at least, she does for another minute longer before she is accompanied by two other young women. Beca tilts her head, wondering if she has a chance at all, with this stranger. A pretty, kind-looking stranger. With friends, Beca presumes.
“Can I buy you another drink?” Beca asks, slipping into the empty barstool next to the stranger.
Clear blue eyes turn to her, surprised. “I didn’t even hear you behind me.”
“I’d be surprised if you heard anything with how loud this music is blasting.”
A flash of white teeth. She leans closer to Beca, as if she is about to share a secret. “I don’t mind it. I like things loud,” she whispers loudly, adding an exaggerated wink to punctuate her statement.
Beca gapes at her new companion. “I mean. That’s…” She clears her throat, momentary lapse dissipating quickly when the beautiful redhead shifts closer. “So...drink?” she asks, quickly changing the subject. She finds this woman’s personality endearing to say the least, if not a little out there, but Beca thinks she can manage.
“Okay,” the woman agrees. “But you have to join me. Two margaritas, then?”
That’s manageable. Beca orders the two drinks, keeping her eye on the woman out of the corner of her eye. She’s stunned by how easily this woman smiles, but she somehow manages to do it without coming off as completely insane. Maybe a little, Beca muses, but she’s not there to judge.
“What’s your name?” Beca asks, keeping her tone light and just the right amount of disinterested. She slides a drink to the woman, smiling when fingers brush against her own in a clear display of interest.
The stranger giggles, a sound so light and airy that it almost breaks Beca’s resolve. She doesn’t crack. She tries not to, at least.
“Chloe,” she replies, finally. She brushes her hand up the front of Beca’s jacket, brushing against the leather. “I like your jacket.”
The boldness makes Beca swallow her drink a bit too early. “That’s all?” she rasps.
Chloe bites her lip, pretending to think about it. “I mean. Maybe I had more to say. But I noticed you looking at me about an hour ago. You finally made your way over here.” At Beca’s immediate blush and flustered stutter, Chloe pats her jacket again with a giggle before she draws away, sipping innocently at her drink. “What’s your name?”
“Beca.”
“Beca,” Chloe repeats. “I like that.”
To Beca’s immense relief, Chloe doesn’t ask for a last name, nor does she offer a last name of her own. Beca eases into the conversation, relaxing against the bar as Chloe begins to rope her into her orbit. Beca doesn’t even realize it.
* * * * *
“I’m not from around here,” Chloe admits.
“Here as in...Los Angeles or here as in California?”
“Um…” Chloe shifts closer to Beca, comfortable in their little corner of the bar, away from noise and nosy eyes. “Both, I guess? I moved here for a job after finishing school on the other side of the country.”
Beca pretends to gag. “School. Bleh. What’d you study?”
“I’m a vet,” Chloe says with twitch of her lips. “What do you do? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve bought all my drinks tonight. I’m not complaining.”
Beca laughs, but she finds that she has no real excuses. “I…” Beca trails off, unsure what she can say exactly. “I’m between jobs,” she says evasively. “But I used to work for my dad. After I finished with the whole school thing.” Not quite a lie. She currently isn’t on any jobs for her father, though she’s sure she’ll have something come up over the next couple of weeks. Also not a lie—she did finish a degree at her father’s behest.
“You strike me as a musician,” Chloe says suddenly. She reaches for Beca’s hand, playing with her fingers. “Talented fingers.”
Beca holds back her laugh. Chloe is forward, which is refreshing. That was a move if she had ever seen one. She relaxes for a second, then Beca watches Chloe for a long moment, letting the slow heat spread through her body at the point which their hands are touching.
“What?” Chloe asks, shifting closer still. “Am I wrong?”
“A little,” Beca admits. “But I…” She shakes her head. “Nothing,” she says quickly. “Just a little off.” She glances at their hands, admiring the slender lines of Chloe’s fingers and the softness of her hand. “But...you might not be wrong about other things.” Beca waits for a beat before leaning in, wondering if Chloe will meet her halfway.
Chloe does. Their first kiss is explosive—Beca immediately surges closer, pulling herself further into Chloe’s orbit. Chloe’s lips are impossibly soft, undeniably pliant, and gentle.
* * * * *
It is a Friday night. Nothing out of the ordinary thus far for Beca—her first night off in months.
Her first night off in months and she is being pressed against the wall outside an apartment complex, Chloe’s tongue in her mouth doing absolutely sinful things. And they have, as far as Beca is concerned, a good few hours. But never all night—Beca makes it a point not to stay; she makes it a point not to linger. It is, however, perhaps, maybe, a little difficult to think of anything else at the moment, as the night progresses.
And it has progressed.
Beca barely manages to take stock of her surroundings, simply allowing Chloe to navigate them into her apartment with ease. She would have never thought Chloe would freely offer up her apartment so quickly, but as they had continued kissing at the bar, Beca found that both their resolves cracked rather quickly. In short order, Chloe divests Beca of her clothes and shoves her onto her bed with a glint.
That had been a mere few minutes ago, both of them too desperate and too aroused to allow for much more else.
“Fuck,” Beca moans. “Fuck, you’re so good at that.” She plants a hand against the headboard, wincing at the strain in her arm. With her free hand, she grabs Chloe’s hair, grinding her hips down, eyes nearly crossing at the rough sensation of Chloe’s tongue against her clit. She gasps with each imprecise stroke between her legs. She wants nothing more than to feel Chloe inside her entirely—fingers, tongue, she’s not picky—but she finds it difficult to articulate more than low, drawn-out moans.
Here, she barely knows this woman’s last name—barely knows her own last name, but she finds that she does not care. Not when Chloe’s hands lock onto her thighs with an iron grip and she begins to sharply flick her tongue over Beca’s sensitive clit. Over and over—Beca cries out, gripping the headboard to the point of injuring her hand, but she does not care. She lets out a groan—somewhere between a groan and gasp—and a string of curses before she is trembling and all but collapsing to the side. Her orgasm ripples through her, like the most pleasurable of waves taking up the spaces in her body. She shudders, tensing her thighs together as Chloe maneuvers them so they are both lying face to face on the bed. Beca tilts her head to receive Chloe’s kiss, which Chloe presses eagerly against her lips. Chloe is all full lips, tongue, and passion, something which only sends heat coiling through Beca’s body again.
As if reading her mind, Chloe pulls back, tongue swiping against her lower lip as she does so. Her hand trails down Beca’s stomach, gently pushing between her legs. “Again,” she rasps, nuzzling her nose against Beca’s. “I want to see you come.” Another kiss, this time with a tug to Beca’s lip between even, blunt teeth. “Didn’t really get to—” another kiss “—see it before.”
And, yeah. Okay. Beca can do that. She nods, pulling Chloe in for another kiss. At around this point, she’d be figuring out an escape from this stranger’s bed and room. But she finds that she wants to stay; she wants to figure out how to make Chloe scream her name or at least make sure that Chloe doesn’t forget their night together.
It feels imperative that she does so.
She is momentarily stricken in the best of ways by Chloe’s hand navigating fully between her legs. She tilts her hips up eagerly, already wet and wanting for Chloe’s fingers. That one orgasm had hardly been enough and whether she chooses to blame it on the alcohol or the fact that she hasn’t been laid in at least four months, she knows that she needs Chloe now. She needs Chloe’s deft, talented fingers inside her.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” Chloe murmurs, voice thick with her own arousal. “Just say something—tell me—”
Beca shakes her head. “No, don’t stop. More.”
Chloe nods, pleased by Beca’s receptiveness and begins slowly dragging her fingers around Beca’s slick cunt, gently coaxing her into an even more heightened state of arousal. Beca wraps an arm around Chloe’s shoulder, pulling her closer still. She traces the top of Chloe’s spine, marvelling at each bump and ridge before she tires and traces the smooth muscles across her back, pleased by the shiver that she feels ripple through Chloe’s body.
Chloe shifts so she hovers over her, covering her body with her own. Beca clutches at Chloe’s back, sighing pleasurably. “Mm—fuck,” Beca murmurs, back arching when Chloe’s fingers sink inside her without preamble. She groans at how full she feels—had it really been that long?—and immediately craves more of that sensation. “Go,” she urges. “More, please, Chloe.”
“You like that,” Chloe whispers, breath hot against Beca’s ear. “You’re so tight, Bec—” the nickname falls so easily from her lips. It sends an unexpected flash through Beca, renewed arousal and all. “I’m going to make you remember my name.”
Beca isn’t entirely sure she would have ever forgotten, regardless of the circumstances.
* * * * *
Beca learns, fairly quickly, what it is that makes Chloe tick. She learns exactly where to kiss and nip to make Chloe sigh. She learns where to suck to make Chloe whimper and moan. She learns exactly how to curl her fingers inside Chloe to make her scream her name with unabashed pleasure.
She learns all about the physicality of this woman, but she cannot, for the life of her, figure out why she seems to crave more. In her sleep-deprived, alcohol-induced haze, she fumbles through the darkness of her own consciousness even as she continues to kiss Chloe’s neck and her chest.
She wants so much more.
“Beca,” Chloe rasps, pulling her back to the present. “Oh, Beca, that feels amazing.” Hands press on the top of her head, urging her downwards towards where Chloe needs her most—the place where she is wettest and where she aches for Beca.
It’s nice, Beca thinks, with a small moan of her own, to be so wanted.
* * * * *
Beca doesn’t remember falling asleep. She remembers Chloe’s lips against her own, the press of Chloe’s lips against her inner thigh. She remembers what it had felt like to press her fingers inside Chloe for the first time—the strain in her arm as she attempted to keep up with Chloe’s enthusiasm for her fingers.
She has never done this before. Sleeping over at a stranger’s apartment or house. Staying the night.
It’s new.
It’s also new, feeling a warm arm draped around her middle possessively. The curves pressing up and down her back. The mild discomfort of skin against skin beneath the chill of the air conditioning because their blanket was kicked halfway down the bed.
All of it feels so new and it makes Beca want to run and yet, she stays. She stays, gets even more comfortable in Chloe’s bed, and decides to sleep for another couple of hours.
It’s nice, feeling like she has nowhere to be.
Sleepily, from behind Beca, Chloe nuzzles into her neck with a degree of comfort that would alarm Beca normally. She nuzzles into Beca with sleepy care, clearly somewhere between being awake and asleep like Beca is herself.
The soft press of her nose and lips against Beca’s skin is comfortable. Like she has been there all her life.
* * * * *
It is a Saturday morning.
When Beca wakes again, it is due to the ray of sunlight shining almost directly across her eyes. She groans, lifting her arm to cover her eyes.
“Morning,” Chloe’s voice says, clear as day from the kitchen area. Beca blinks, lifting her head slightly. Her heart pounds as she takes in the reality of the situation: she had slept over—she had stayed overnight. She had broken her one rule about one-night-stands. “You’re up,” Chloe continues cheerily, clearly unaware of Beca’s inner turmoil.
“Um...yeah. What time is it?” Beca groans. “Good morning,” she adds hastily, as to not be completely rude.
“Just after nine. You were sleeping like a log, so I got some coffee and breakfast.” Chloe moves towards the bed from the kitchen, making Beca fully aware of the spacious studio space and open layout of Chloe’s apartment. “Hi,” Chloe murmurs, sitting on the edge of the bed. She helps Beca sit up, handing her a bagel. “Hope you like cream cheese.”
“I...I do,” Beca whispers. She sits up, surprised by how comfortable she feels baring herself to Chloe after their night together. Chloe smiles pleasantly at her, clearly delighted that Beca is receptive to breakfast. “Thank you,” she adds, sincerity in her tone. She doesn’t say it aloud, but it has been a while since she’s enjoyed any form of breakfast in bed, let alone a substantial breakfast of any kind that wasn’t an extra large iced coffee for the road.
“Do you have somewhere to be?” Chloe asks. “I can drive you.”
“You have a car?” Beca asks, surprised. At Chloe’s raised eyebrow, she laughs awkwardly, attempting to brush it off. “No, I just meant—I don’t know. Most people our age don’t really have...a car,” she finishes lamely.
“Oh? How do you know I’m not like twenty years older than you?”
Beca tugs at the sheets nervously. “I guess,” Beca stammers, pink tainting her cheeks. “I guess...I guessed,” she murmurs slowly.
Chloe laughs, settling even further on the bed, stretching out. “I’m kidding, I’m twenty-seven. I just turned twenty-seven.”
“Oh, okay. I’m twenty-five.”
“Nice to meet you, Beca, twenty-five,” Chloe announces. She sends a mock-salute towards Beca, playful smile still playing on her lips.
Beca lets some tension ease from her body. She isn’t sure where the ease comes from, but she feels incredibly comfortable talking to Chloe. Incredibly open, despite how vulnerable she feels being significantly underdressed while Chloe lounges in her leggings and button-up shirt across from her. Still, she feels the same undeniable attraction to this woman—the same attraction from the night before. It lingers, hot in her chest, drifting into her belly.
She doesn’t do this. Not usually. Not ever.
“Mitchell,” Beca says quietly while Chloe fiddles with her phone. Her voice causes Chloe to look up. “My name is Beca Mitchell.”
Chloe’s smile is incredibly radiant, enough to light up the whole room. More than the sun itself, creeping its way past the half-open curtains. Behind her head, as if the universe is further highlighting Chloe’s mere presence in Beca’s life—a miracle of sorts, if anything—there is a halo of sunlight, lighting up red strands like the tiny sparks and flames Beca feels rippling through her body. Chloe clears her throat. “We have all morning, Beca Mitchell. If you’re up for it, that is.”
“All morning?” Beca questions. She is sure wonder is written all over her face.
“I...want to get to know you. If that’s okay.”
Oh. Beca swallows. Chloe’s eyes are even more blue than Beca remembers. She is unable to look away, even for a moment, but she isn’t sure that she would even want to, not when she is so incredibly captivated by Chloe. “That’s okay…” Beca finishes by nibbling on her bagel, unsure what else Chloe wants her to say or do. She finds that she is not afraid of these completely unchartered waters, so long as she gets to dive in, head-first, with Chloe.
Chloe rises from the bed so she can sit closer to where Beca is reclining. Slowly, she leans in, eyes watching carefully for anything that Beca might be resistant to—any indication that Beca doesn’t want this.
Beca has never had a morning after—not one that mattered, at least. She is so riveted by the slow way Chloe leans in to kiss her; she is so enthralled by the way Chloe occupies all the spaces that she didn’t know she had—all the capacities she didn’t know existed within her in that moment.
Like a dam breaking, an unexpected surge passes over Beca. She reaches up quickly, pulling Chloe in to close the rest of the distance between them.
“Beale,” Chloe whispers against her lips. Her free hand glides up Beca’s body before she pries her bagel from her hand and sets it aside.
“What?” Beca asks, distracted by Chloe’s wandering hand.
“My name is Chloe Beale.”
Nice to meet you, Beca thinks. It is such a pleasant, reassuring thought that it fills her with something more than her usual existential dread.
It is warm.
Gentle.
She thinks of nothing else for the rest of the morning, simply intent on getting to know Chloe Beale beyond just the feeling of her skin beneath her fingertips.
fin ch. 1
#bechloe#pitch perfect#bechloe fanfiction#beca mitchell#chloe beale#mafia au#mine#my fanfic#bechloe fic
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𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕜 (Ch.1: Yes, Mr.Yoo)
A/N: This was a fic I’d originally posted on Wattpad last year. Hope you guys enjoy!
Description: Working for Mr.Yoo Kihyun was an absolute nightmare; Y/N hated everything about him, and was convinced he was either part demon or at least some sort of reptilian hybrid- never in a million years would she have expected to learn that he was, indeed only human, and even worse; that he might even be…likeable?
Link to: || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7
I looked around at the buzzing office, carefully checking to make sure the coast was clear. I picked up my coffee mug, gulped down the last bit of black coffee at the bottom, and then rose up from my chair. I walked over to the elevator and made my way down to the lobby.
He should've started his shift by now...
When the elevator doors opened back up, I peered out into the lobby. My heart started beating when I saw him. I bit my lip and smoothed out my skirt as best as I could with my mug in hand. I straightened my posture, and I took a deep breath before walking out of the elevator and going over to the coffee bar.
I was feeling quite bold that morning as I was imagining how I'd approach him, but the closer I got to the counter, the more confidence I lost. Finally, I was at the counter- far too late to turn back.
"Good morning, Miss..." said the guy at the counter, a small smile on his face, making me gulp.
"G-good morning, Shownu," I said, sounding far more confident than I expected.
That wasn't so bad... okay, good job.
Shownu looked at me expectantly and then chuckled, "Refill?" He asked.
I snapped out of my thoughts and laughed awkwardly, "Oh, yes please..." I said, handing him my mug.
He took it from my hand, and I watched as he walked over to the coffee machine behind him. He was slender but his back was muscular, which you could see through his fitted white t-shirt. His lightly tanned skin looked so delicious...
"Miss?"
Again, I was snapped out of my trance. My face was flushed with embarrassment.
Did he catch me staring?
"Oh sorry..." I said, trying not to make eye contact as I took my mug from him.
"Don't worry, we all have those mornings," He said with a smile.
I smiled back, but the smile faded as I tried to build the courage to finally ask him...
"Was there anything else you needed?" Shownu asked.
I cleared my throat.
Alright, this is it.
"Actually, yes. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to-" I started, but someone cleared their throat loudly, causing me to turn to see who it was.
My eyes widened.
"Oh, sir," I said, my heart beating even harder than when I'd seen Shownu.
Standing behind me was Kihyun .
"And where should you be right now?" He asked, slight irritation in his voice.
I swallowed hard, "I- I'm sorry, sir. I was just coming down for a refill on my coffee," I said, feeling smaller and smaller as the words came out of my mouth.
Kihyun nodded, "So, you've got it," He said, staring me down.
I nodded, "I'll go now..." I said, lowering my head and walking back toward the elevators.
When I'd gotten to my desk, I sat down and looked away from my computer screen, trying to concentrate on not crying from how incredibly embarrassed I was that Kihyun had spoken to me that way- at all, but especially in front of Shownu.
Once I was sure I was calm enough, I reached for my mug and put it to my lips, taking in the smell of the coffee. I took a sip, closing my eyes as I enjoyed the warmth, though it was short lived.
"Let me know when Mr.Lee gets here for our meeting," Kihyun said in a flat voice as he walked past my desk and into his office, closing the door behind himself. I put my mug down and sighed as I turned my attention to my computer screen to check the time of his meeting.
Fifteen minutes went by before Mr.Lee came out of the elevator and walked over to my desk, a smile on his face.
"Ms.Y/N, are you always this beautiful in the mornings?" He said sweetly, making me blush.
"Mr.Lee, it's always a pleasure-"
"Y/N, I told you to let me know when Mr.Lee arrived," Kihyun said, standing at the door to his office. He masked his annoyance with a smile, though Mr.Lee was the only one fooled.
"Oh, don't worry about it- I just got here," Mr.Lee said, walking over to Kihyun and patting him on the shoulder.
"Oh well in that case..." Kihyun said, the smile still plastered on his face as he glanced at me.
Kihyun motioned for Mr.Lee to go in to the office and Mr.Lee disappeared into the room.
"Come and take notes," Kihyun said.
I quickly picked up my notepad from my desk, along with a pen. When I looked up, I expected to see Kihyun waiting at the door, but he had already walked into his office, letting the door close behind him.
I pursed my lips, feeling irritated.
He's such a jerk.
I took a deep breath and walked into the office. Kihyun and Mr.Lee were sitting in the two sleek, gray sofas across from each other. I walked in, careful to close the door behind me, and I sat at the far end of the couch where Kihyun was sitting.
Mr.Lee's eyes were glued to me, the corner of his mouth curled into a smile. "Kihyun, when was the last time you gave this angel a raise?" He asked.
I felt my face get hot, "Oh, Mr.Lee..."
Kihyun smiled fakely, "Minhyuk, shouldn't you wait to close our agreement before you start trying to seduce my personal assistant?" He said slyly.
Mr.Lee laughed, "I'd better hurry then..." He finally took his eyes off of me and fixed his attention to Kihyun, leaning forward in his seat.
Kihyun narrowed his eyes at Mr.Lee, "Seems like a wise choice..." He said, sliding over a folder onto the coffee table between them.
The meeting went on for about an hour and a half. They went on about budgeting and building permits, and finally, the contract that would make their two companies partners.
"Alright, when should I be back with my father to finalize the agreement?" Mr.Lee said.
Kihyun looked over at me.
I cleared my throat, "You have next Tuesday free, at..." I double checked on the calendar app on my phone, "11:00AM."
Kihyun turned his attention back to Mr.Lee, "Tuesday at 11:00 work for you?" He asked.
Mr.Lee nodded, "Yes, sounds fine."
Kihyun stood to his feet, and Mr.Lee did so as well.
"Then, thank you for coming," Kihyun said, sticking his hand out for a shake.
Mr.Lee smiled, "Well, it's only what's best for Lee&Co."
Mr.Lee turned his attention to me, and stuck his hand out.
I grabbed his hand to shake it, but he was quick to flip my hand over and kiss it gently.
Once again, my face was hot- not only from Mr.Lee's forwardness, but also because I was sure Kihyun was staring daggers into the back of my head.
"Oh Mr.Lee..." I said, wiggling my hand free.
"Please, call me Minhyuk..." He said, standing upright and fixing his tie. He walked to the door, "See you Tuesday, Kihyun," he walked out of the office and closed the door.
I bit my lip, not even wanting to turn to look at Kihyun, but doing so anyway.
"You will call him Mr.Lee." Kihyun said firmly, walking over to his desk and sitting down.
The back of his chair stood well past the height of his head, making him seem even more intimidating than he already was.
He wore a slim fitting black suit that accentuated his shoulders. His face was angular, and in a way, feminine. His voice was deep- not quite as deep as Shownu's, but the way he spoke was so stern and direct, making it seem even manlier.
If it wasn't because he was so demeaning and rude, I'd say he was almost...handsome.
"Of course, I wasn't gonna call him Minhyu-"
"What were you doing downstairs?" He asked, keeping his eyes focused on his computer screen.
I looked down, "Getting coffee..." I said quietly.
I hated how he made me feel.
He looked up at me.
"Oh please," He scoffed, rolling his eyes.
I stayed quiet, tightly hugging my notepad to my chest.
"So, you weren't busy throwing yourself at the coffee guy downstairs? Okay..." He said, turning his attention back to his screen.
I swallowed, "I wasn't-" I tried to steady my voice as I felt a lump rise in my throat, "I wasn't throwing myself at him..." I managed to say.
"Go back to your desk. I have work to do," He said, his voice back to being flat.
I pursed my lips, "Yes, Mr.Yoo."
When I sat back at my desk, I felt defeated.
How much more of this can I take?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I glanced up at the giant clock that hung on a wall across the entire floor. 6 o'clock. I gathered my things and set them on my desk as I prepared to leave for the day. I walked over to Kihyun's office door, and stood there for a moment, readying myself for whatever rude tune he'd speak to me in.
Just as I was about to knock on the door, it opened, and Kihyun stood in the doorway- his face only inches away from mine. He didn't move away, nor did I. His expression was unreadable as he looked down at me. I was frozen.
"Yes?" He asked, reaching up and adjusting the collar of his dress shirt.
I shook my head, coming back to reality, "I- I was just gonna ask you if you needed anything before I left..." I said, taking a step back.
He looked past me, scanning the floor with his eyes as people were either huddled by the elevator or packing up to leave.
He turned his eyes back to me, "No. You can go."
I nodded and quickly turned around to pick up my stuff.
"Have a good night, Mr.Yoo," I said, keeping my head down as I walked over to the elevator.
I stepped inside, and as the doors were slowly closing, I noticed that Kihyun was still standing at his doorway, staring straight ahead...at me.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Part two will be up, probably tomorrow :)
#monstax#monsta x#mx#monbebe#smut#fluff#angst#kihyun#minhyuk#shownu#jooheon#hyungwon#changkyun#im#wonho#monsta x reader#kihyun x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#monsta x fanfic
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HERE'S WHAT I JUST REALIZED ABOUT CHALLENGE
This is not just a machine. Even then I took embarrassingly long to catch on. But I think that's ok. It's an excuse to work on boring things, even if they wanted to do things that make you stupid, and if they don't go into research.1 Why don't more people start startups. But how do you become one? What super-angels and VCs. So starting a startup and failed over someone who'd spent the same time working at a big company.2 In America, companies, like practically everything else, are disposable. So why do so many founders build things no one wants to do it may be best to go for brevity. Facebook seemed a good idea to understand what's happening when you do have kids.3
If you learn to ignore injuries you can at least avoid the second half. But if you're looking for companies that hope to win by writing great software.4 For the average startup, that would explain why they'd care about valuations.5 The other way to tell an adult is by how they react to a challenge. A nerd looks at that deal and sees only: pay a fortune for a small, dark, noisy apartment. A high-frequency trader does not. US are auto workers, New York is incomparable.6 But airports are not so harmless.7 There is no absolute standard for material wealth. This is about cities, not countries.
The reason he and most other startup founders are richer than they would have made working 9 to 5 at a big company. So maybe hacking does require some special ability to focus. If accelerating variation in productivity increases with technology, then the idea will fit in the user's head too. The other is that, in a hits-driven business, is that they're the same. The mere prospect of being interrupted is enough to prevent hackers from working on their startup for a whole year before being squashed by Google Calendar. The other way to tell an adult is by how they react to a challenge from an adult in a way people will increasingly be.8 I was walking along the street in Cambridge, and in practice they are usually interchangeable. I thought were the 5 most interesting startup founders of the last 30 years. Design is not just that it makes trade work. When Rajat Suri of E la Carte decided to write software for restaurants, he got out one of the founders of Sun.9 Finally at the end of this long process the VCs might still say no.10 Not just because it's better, but the pain of having this stupid controversy constantly reintroduced as the top one in your mind.11
The iPhone isn't so much a phone as a replacement for a phone.12 San Francisco, or Boston, or New York, where people walk around smiling. It felt as if someone had flipped on a light switch inside my head. They're willing to let you work so hard that you endanger your health. That's because, unlike novelists, hackers collaborate on projects. Someone with ordinary tastes would find it hard to come up with the numbers. Even now the image of a very ambitious German presses a button or two, doesn't it? Northern Italy in 1100, off still feudal. If you don't have to look at. Whereas if the speaker were still operating on the Daddy Model, and saw wealth as something that flowed from a common source and had to be built on NT. There is a large, existing population of stodgy people. Seriously, though, that there are going to get till the last minute.
As the CEO of a large public company makes about 100 times as productive as an ordinary one, but a leading indicator. Several of the most successful startup founders are often technical people who are great at something are not so much the day to day management. To me she seems the best novelist of all time. What nerds like is the kind of problems are those? You'd think it would be such a great thing never to be wrong that everyone would do this. So there is obviously not a fixed pie that's shared out, like an introductory textbook. I've rarely had a neat answer to it. A startup is not to try to think of startup ideas. There are now a few VC firms outside the US. The chance of getting rejected after the full partner meeting averages about 25%.13
Notes
This is true of nationality and religion as well. Some VCs seem to be free to work than stay home with them. To a kid and as a cause as it was overvalued till you run through all the page-generating templates are still called the executive model. Philosophy is like math's ne'er-do-well brother.
To get a lot more frightening in those days, but getting rich, purely mercenary founders will usually take one of the next one will be near-spams that you should push back on the grounds that a their applicants come from meditating in an equity round. In many ways the New Deal was a test of intelligence. One YC founder wrote after reading a draft, Sam Rayburn and Lyndon Johnson.
Did you know about a week for 4 years. The facts about Apple's early history are from an interview. That's the best are Goodwin Procter, Wilmer Hale, and tax rates, which shows how unimportant the Arpanet which became the Internet. I'm not dissing these people.
For example, because despite some progress in the former, and also really good at design, or because they are so dull and artificial that by the government. Part of the biggest successes there is no longer working to help the company goes public. Though most founders start out excited about the subterfuges they had that we didn't do. As always, tax loopholes defended by two of the web have sucked—e.
43. Microsoft, would increase the spammers' cost to reach a given audience by a factor of 20.
The solution for this essay, I advised avoiding Javascript. Often as not the distinction between them generate a lot of people who interrupt you. Proceedings of AAAI-98 Workshop on Learning for Text Categorization.
There is no richer if it's dismissed, it's probably a mistake to do better. 99,—e. In the thirties his support of the Fabian Society, it is certainly more efficient, it inevitably turns into incantation. Most don't try to raise five million dollars in liquid assets are assumed to be obscure; they just don't make wealth a zero-sum game.
Strictly speaking it's not uncommon for startups is a self fulfilling prophecy. One thing that drives most people come to writing essays is to protect widows and orphans from crooked investment schemes; people with a sufficiently identifiable style, you can, Jeff Byun mentions one reason not to say for sure a social network for pet owners is a bad idea, period. Is this unfair? You may be some part you can ask us who's who; otherwise you may have to find out why investors who turned them down.
That's because the first year or so and we don't have enough equity left to motivate people by saying Real artists ship. That's why the series AA terms and write them a check. At the moment; if there were 5 more I didn't realize it till I started doing research for this at YC I find I never watch movies in theaters anymore.
The latter type is the proper test of intelligence. If you have to do others chose Marx or Cardinal Newman, and tax rates have had a day job is one of the paths people take through life, the rest have mostly raised money at all. The Civil Service Examinations of Imperial China, Yale University Press, 1983.
Thought experiment: set aside for this essay began by talking about art.
Applying for a startup is taking the Facebook/Twitter route and building something for a CEO to make money from existing customers. Instead of bubbling up from the study. Unfortunately, not lowercase.
It wouldn't pay. This is one of the bizarre consequences of this essay talks about the team or their determination and disarmingly asking the right question, which would cause other problems. That's the difference between surgeons and internists fleas: I wouldn't say that YC's most successful ones tend not to quit their day job is one subtle danger you have 8 months of runway or less, is he going to do sales yourself initially.
#automatically generated text#Markov chains#Paul Graham#Python#Patrick Mooney#months#VCs#York#people#Text#test#company#Newman#pain#style#moment#America#indicator#Calendar#intelligence#Lyndon#distinction#chance#job#internists#Press#founders#subtle#essays
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17
Pairing: EZ Reyes x Camila (OC)
Warnings: None really, a bit of angsty-ish parts
Word count: 3.2k
Translations: perdón - sorry, No te preocupes - Don’t worry.
Camila focused on herself in the mirror, blending the last of mocha brown eyeshadow into her crease. Putting the brush down, she sat back some and looked over her face, eyes stuck on her lips. She looked over her organized lipsticks, over the various shades of nudes she had. Movement in the doorway caught her attention and she looked through the mirror behind her, finding EZ standing there at the doorway, arms crossed across his chest and a smile across his lips. She returned the grin and he pushed himself off the wall, walking toward her slowly. He came up to stand behind her while she sat at the vanity, hands resting on her shoulders as they maintained eye contact through the mirror. She pouted as she looked at him and he copied her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know what lipstick to wear.”
EZ came around her and looked down at the organizer over the various lipsticks before looking back at her whole face.
“Where’s that one that you wear a lot? The glossy one?”
Camila furrowed her brows and looked around, picking up her usual sheer shimmer gloss and holding it up to him.
“This one? I wear this almost every day.”
EZ nodded and gave her a smile.
“I know. It’s my favorite. It doesn’t hide these.”
He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her bare lips, tugging her bottom lip down slightly as she smiled. She kissed his thumb slowly before he pulled away and he smirked.
“Don’t start anything we can’t finish. We gotta leave in 20 minutes.”
The brunette gave a laugh and held her hands up before taking the tube of lip gloss back from EZ’s hands. He made his way back behind her and adjusted his kutte as he watched her slather the champagne gloss over her plump pout. She smacked her lips together and then nodded.
“Good choice, mi amor.”
He smiled gently and held his hands out to her to help her stand from the bench. She grabbed onto them and allowed him to pull her up, his eyes locked on her mouth. His voice was low as he spoke.
“Definitely should’ve stolen a kiss before you put that gloss on.”
Camila beamed and tapped the tip of his nose with her index finger, throwing a wink.
“Guess you’ll just have to wait until we get back from El Padrino’s party.”
With a nod, EZ sighed and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek.
“I guess so. Now get dressed.”
Camila saluted him sarcastically and walked past him toward her closet where the beige dress was hanging. She didn’t escape without a swift pat to the ass as she did.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
“What do you think?”
EZ turned around and looked at Camila as she stood there, dressed and ready to go. His mouth hung open slightly as he took her in. Her hair was flowing, shiny and healthy as ever but it was neater, more sleek that her usual purposefully messy waves. It was pushed back from her face some, her features front and center. She wore a little more makeup than usual, but her skin was still coming through, glowing from within. The beige dress showed a little more skin than usual as well and EZ couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing over the bronze of her shoulder and chest, legs out and calves defined in her heels. The brown of her dress contrasted well with the brown of her skin and she looked like a goddess. His goddess. EZ stood from the couch, eyes still glued to her and she smiled softly under his gaze. He was looking at her in a way he hadn’t before, and she knew it was because he was seeing her in a way that he hadn’t before. He walked up and reached forward, resting his hands on her ample hips, loving how the fabric accentuated her shape. His eyes moved from her body back up to her eyes and he smiled as she looked up at him through dark lashes.
“You look absolutely gorgeous, querida. Like a dream.”
She gave a nervous chuckle and instinctively looked down at her toes, painted white and sticking out of the tips of her heels. EZ’s finger made its way under her chin and pulled slightly, angling her head back up to meet his eyes once again.
“I mean that. You look beautiful, Cam.”
“Gracias, Ezekiel.”
He smiled again and nodded, the hand that was holding her chin now sliding to hold on the side of her head.
“De nada, mi Corazon.”
Her smile was bright then and she playfully pushed at his chest.
“Stop, you’re making my cheeks hurt.”
He chuckled softly to himself and apologized, running his hands up and down her bare shoulders.
“Let’s get going, mami.”
He slid his hands down her arms and let them rest on the small of her back, guiding her toward the front door of her home and opening it for her. They walked out together onto the driveway, Camila’s heels clicking on the pavement as they went passed EZ’s bike and toward her car. She handed him her keys and motioned to the driver’s seat.
“You know where we’re going.”
He took the keys from her hand and went with her to her side, opening the door for her and helping her in before closing it behind her and jogging around to the driver’s side. He hopped in and started the car up. Backing up the car, he pulled out of her driveway and started down the road, reaching over to rest his hand on her thigh as he drove. Camila looked down at his hand, veins running along the back of it and then looked over and him, both sharing small smiles before looking away. EZ pulled his eyes back to the road while she looked out of the window and watched the buildings pass, their smiles still in place.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Camila looked around as EZ helped her out of her car.
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
He said nothing else as Camila kept taking in the scenery of the ranch. The cars were lined up along the parking on the side of the landscaping, a huge country club in the middle. Camila looked to EZ and he half smiled, half cringed.
“El Padrino used to head the MC but he stepped down. He’s…working something else now. Better money.”
Camila nodded and held onto his arm as they walked toward the building together.
“Clearly.”
He chose to leave it at that, now not being the time to get into Marcus’ shift into the cartel and his shaking up with the Galindos. He was sure Camila know enough to know that this wasn’t a place that could be rented by any old MC member, ex-president or not. He allowed her to hang onto him as they walked in, a man in a three-piece suit waiting at the door to open it for them. EZ ushered Camila in ahead of him and they walked to the side, most people dressed for the occasion save for the noticeable matching kuttes of the Mayans. Angel, Coco, and Gilly spotted EZ and Camila before they could notice the boys and started making their way over to them, Camila smiling as soon as she laid eyes on them. Gilly pushed forward ahead of Angel and Coco with a bright beaming smile, all teeth as he whistled and held his hand out to Camila.
“Fuckin’ look at you!”
She placed her hand into his and he spun her around once before she pulled away laughing and blushing.
“Chill.”
Gilly kept his grin and released her, Angel stepping up next and wrapping his arms around her tightly, not having seen her for a whole week now.
“You do look nice.”
She nodded and reached down to gently grab the sides of her dress, pulling them out to display that dress.
“Nicest I’ve looked since my Quinceañera. I’m sure I won’t be keeping these shoes on for long.”
They continued to say their hellos and Angel lead her and EZ back to the rest of the MC to say hello as well. After a million hugs and kisses, Camila felt EZ grab her upper arm and maneuver her to the side, Marcus standing there in the nicest suit of all beside Bishop. They both looked over as EZ and Camila stepped closer. Bishop smiled brightly and opened his arm to her, Camila stepping into his embrace and leaving a kiss on his cheek.
“Hey, Bish.”
“Hola, cariño.”
Bishop released her and then motioned to Marcus with his other hand.
“I don’t believe you two have met.”
Camila shook her head and smiled warmly at Marcus, sticking out her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Marcus. I’m Camila.”
El Padrino returned her smile and bypassed her hand, leaning in for a hug of his own. She returned the embrace and they pulled away, Marcus speaking first.
“Nice to meet you too, Camila. I’ve heard about you.”
Camila smiled nervously.
“Good things, I hope.”
Marcus nodded, patting Bishop’s shoulder.
“Only the best.”
Camila looked back to Bishop and he nodded once, a lopsided smile on his face. Marcus clapped him on the back and motioned to the wall of doors on the back wall, a beautiful garden outback with chairs lined up for the ceremony.
“Everyone can start getting their seats. I put you all in the first and second rows.���
Bishop nodded and they clasped their hands together before pulling away, Bishop starting to lead the MC outside.
They all took their seats, some people already in theirs. It wasn’t an overly large crowd when taking into account how may loved ones, friends, acquaintances, and associates a man like Marcus had, but there were an easy seventy people. Camila was sat between EZ and Angel and she continued to look around, a quiet scoff coming from Angel. She looked toward him and pushed her shoulder into his.
“What are you making noises over there for?”
The older Reyes brother shook his head and looked back at her.
“Leave it to you to be sitting in a mansion like this but be focused on the bushes.”
Shaking her own head, she grinned, and Angel returned it.
“I missed you, Angel. And they’re not bushes, they’re shrubs.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
“You want something to drink?”
Camila looked over to her right at EZ.
“Uh, what do they have?”
“Champagnes and wines that cost way too much, probably.”
Camila nodded, knowing he was right and gave a shrug.
“Get me a White Russian if you can. If not, I don’t know, get me apple juice.”
EZ laughed at the jump in her preferences and so did she, closing her eyes as he leaned down and kissed her temple.
“I’ll be back.”
Camila nodded as EZ walked away from the table and looked down at the bright white tablecloth, running her finger over the fabric. She looked over the entire cloth before she turned her attention to the ceiling, looking over the intricacies of the architecture. At the boxed dropdowns, the arches of the walkways that reach all the way up, the thick pillars at the entrances and exits. She looked around the entire hall, taking in everything and before long she looked down at her rose gold watch, seeing that EZ had been gone for ten minutes now. Looking around, she figured he must’ve gotten caught up with someone, the life of a prospect never being easy. She started people watching then to pass the time as was startled as she felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder. She looked back and saw Angel standing there, pulling out the seat that EZ had been sitting in and taking a seat in it himself beside her.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Camila shook her head quickly, thankful for the company.
“Don’t worry about it. I was just caught up in my head.”
Angel nodded at that and took a sip from his beer.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
A silence fell over the two of them and Camila continued to look around, her eyes finally settling on EZ as she picked him out of the crowd. She saw him standing there, a beer in one hand and her White Russian in the other. He stood there holding both and talking to someone standing in front of him. There were people crowded around and Camila couldn’t really see who he was speaking to but as the group moved, she saw the blonde woman that had been at the restaurant, then the bookstore, then Kevin’s photo. It was Emily, with her blonde hair and black dress, a small smile on her face as she spoke with EZ. They spoke back and forth, and Camila couldn’t help but wonder if he had been there with her the whole time. Angel followed Camila’s eyes and winced, shaking his head as his baby brother.
“You ok, Cam?”
She turned toward him swiftly and then nodded.
“Yeah. Just want my drink.”
She gave a little laugh, but Angel could tell there was more to it. She shook his head feverishly, pointing at Emily with the mouth of his beer.
“Do you know who that is, or?”
Camila nodded and looked back at him.
“Yeah. He’s told me. She came to the bookstore once and we saw her at a restaurant when we first got together.”
Angel stayed looking at his baby brother and Emily, a small flame of anger starting to burn in him at that thought of EZ having seemingly forgotten about his new girl in exchange for catching up with the old one. Suddenly Camila looked at Angel again and this time she stayed looking, her eyes showing that she had something she wanted to say. She battled with herself for a member before finally speaking.
“They were serious, weren’t they?”
Angel stayed quiet and Camila spoke again.
“He says that she was just an ex, but I can tell there was more to it than that.”
At that, Angel nodded. He took a swig of his beer once again.
“They were a little serious, yeah. They were together when EZ got locked up. High school sweethearts, that kinda shit. She uh…”
Angel trailed off, wondering if it would soothe her or anger her if he told her the truth. Camila had seemed to be a levelheaded person so far as he was concerned and he opted to tell her the truth, hoping that the added clarity would ease her worries.
“She was pregnant. He ended things, she was pissed, got rid of the kid to spite him, it was a whole big fucking mess. Then he did all those years and she kinda faded away into the past.”
Camila nodded, listening to Angel and looked back at her boyfriend who still stood there with Emily.
“Until now.”
Angel grunted and even with as stupid as he felt his baby brother was being at the moment, he decided to try and help him out some.
“She’s married to Marcus’ boss now. That’s why she’s here and why we’re all here. It’s all business.”
Camila gave a big nod now, understanding much more. She wasn’t just his ex, she was once the mother of his first child, now wife of his MC’s business partner. She felt the bubbles of jealousy start to settle some, a slow song now being put on by the DJ. Couples stood and made their way to the dancefloor, hold and embracing each other, swaying slowly to the ballad and Camila felt a wave of loneliness come over her, wishing that she could’ve shared the dance with EZ. She took a deep breath though and let it out, just thankful for him and the moments that he had spent with her, including bringing her to this function with him. She had never known there was so much history with Emily and now that she knew the truth, she still had patience with him. His leaving her alone so he could catch up with his ex when he had asked her to come was making it a little harder to be patient though. Instead, she put on a smile and turned in her chair to face Angel.
“So, have you been cooking lately?”
Angel spoke to her enthusiastically about the dishes he had been trying, the ones he had nailed and the ones that had made him gag. He told her about how good his homemade meatballs had been and how even Felipe had taken down the recipe. They were still talking when EZ came back, hurrying to place Camila’s White Russian down in front of her only for them to both look down at it and see the clear ring floating on the top of the drink, all the ice now melted.
“Sorry, baby. I got caught up,”
Camila nodded and EZ could see that her body language was off. Pulling his eyes away from her, he looked at Angel and saw the disapproving look on his face, lips pursed slightly. EZ hung his head some, knowing then that if Angel had noticed, there wasn’t any way that Camila hadn’t. Angel’s eyes felt like they were burning holes into the side of EZ’s face as he stared at him and he picked Camila’s cup back up, smiling at her to try and smooth things over.
“Let me get you another one.”
Shaking her head, Camila pushed a smile. EZ had seen enough of them to know easily that this one was fake. He gingerly placed the cup back down onto the table and looked at Angel to see if he would get up and give EZ back his seat. All Angel gave in return was a defiantly angry look at his baby brother and EZ swallowed dryly, wondering if Camila had told Angel she was upset. He reached down and grabbed one of her hands, pulling at it softly.
“Let’s go dance.”
Camila looked up at him and just like that, the song came to an end, the couples starting to return to their seats. Smiling sadly, Camila ran her hands over her thighs, smoothing her dress as she stood.
“It’s ok. I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.”
She leaned over and pressed a kiss to EZ’s cheek before pulling away and grabbing her purse, letting her hand rest on Angel’s shoulder as she walked away. Making her way back to the lobby where the restrooms were, Camila passed the dessert area and across the lobby. As she walked into the hall where the bathrooms were, a man in a charcoal suit stepped out of the male door, dark hair combed neatly, his salt and pepper sprinkled beard outlining his features. He looked up as her heels came into view and she stepped back, both smiling.
“Ay, perdón.”
“No te preocupes, señorita.”
He took a step back himself and motioned for her to go first which she did with a smile.
“Thank you.”
“De nada.”
She went into the female bathroom while the man headed back to his table and his wife. The girl clearly had no idea who he was, but he knew who she was, and he stole a glance to the Reyes brothers sitting together many tables away, the older one clearly chastising EZ. Looking away, he trained his eyes back on his wife who was smiling at him and holding out a plate of red velvet cake.
“Here, Miguel. They had one of your favorites.”
taglist: @caramara3 @lostgirl219 @mrsjaxtellerfan @actuallyazriel @vannabanana1995 @unnecessarypineapplesstuff @thegreat-annamaria @negansdirtygirl22 @svintsandghosts @piccasoe @tobesurroundedbysplendidthings @jadert15
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The Story of Betty and James
So I absolutely love the whole love triangle idea in this album but it got me thinking what if we could use other Taylor songs to extend this story? And now I can’t stop thinking about so find below my story and interpretation (in songs) of what happened to Betty, James and the third girl. Any lyrics I have bolded are where they interconnect to another song.
Welcome To New York
Betty moves to New York for high school.
Welcome to New York, it’s been waiting for you/everybody here was someone else before
Lover
Betty and James fall in love.
I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you/can we always be this close?
Enchanted
‘Other girl’ meets James and can’t stop thinking about him. He begins to flirt with her.
Your silhouette starts to make its way to me/the playful conversation starts/two am who do you love?
Forever and Always
Betty gets suspicious of James’ behaviour as he is often absent and when with her, seems distant.
Looked me in the eye and told me you loved me were you just kidding?/We almost never speak/rains when you’re here and it rains when you’re gone.
You Belong With Me
‘Other girl’ starts believing she is better for James, as James and Betty beging arguing about him being distant. She starts being there for James more.
You’re on the phone with your girlfriend she’s upset/what you’re looking for has been here the whole time/I remember you driving to my house
Dress
James and ‘other girl’ begin a secret relationship.
Our secret moments/they got no idea about me and you/I don;t want you like a best friend
Cruel Summer
James and ‘other girls’ relationship continues throughout the summer, ‘other girl’ begins falling in love with James despite knowing that its dangerous and bad and knowing that James could leave her at any point.
No rules in breakable heaven/devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes/its a cruel summer/we’ll screw it up in these trying times/always waiting for you just to cut to the bone/snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer just to seal my fate/I love you aint that the worst thing you ever heard?
Come In With The Rain
Betty and James are growing further apart, more references to rain.
I’m too tired to call your name/hoping you’ll come in with the rain
Should’ve Said No
Betty discovers the affair.
Should’ve said no shouldn’ve gone home/yesterday I found out about you
If This Was A Movie
Six months pass and Betty is still in love and wanting James to come back to her despite their ending.
Six months gone and I’m still reaching/I just want you back at my front door
Mirrorball
‘Other girl’ is now finding it hard to keep James’ attention as he keeps thinking about Betty.
Hush I know they said the end is near/shining just for you/trying everything to keep you looking at me
Illicit Affairs
James breaks it off with ‘other girl’ who saw this coming all along.
Thats the thing about illicit affairs/they die a million times/what started in beautiful rooms ends with meetings in parking lots
August
‘Other girl’ looks back at her memories with James of them in the summer, knowing he always wanted Betty instead.
August slipped away into a moment in time/you were never mine/so much for summer love/I pulled up and said get in the car
Betty
James considers going to Betty’s party and telling her that he still wants her.
If I showed up at your party/you heard the rumours from Inez/this time is was true/it was just a summer thing/she said James get in lets drive/dreamt of you all summer
This Is Me Trying
James arrives at the party. He talks to a stranger about what has happened.
Its hard to be at a party/pouring my heart out to a stranger/flashback on a film reel
The Last Time
James and Betty talk, Betty says this needs to be the last time he puts someone else first.
Find myself at your door/put my name at the top of your list
How You Get The Girl
Betty and James get back together.
Say it’s been a long six months/thats how you got the girl
Dancing With Our Hands Tied
Things continue to go badly in the relationship.
Dancing with our hands tied/I had a bad feeling/hold you as the water rushes in
Exile
Betty leaves James for another man. They both recall what happened last time this happened with James seeing ‘other girl’.
Standing honey with his arms around your body/pack us up and leave me with it/I think I’ve seen this film before and I didnt like the ending
Hoax
James has now left New York but misses Betty, he realises she had no faith in him and left with another man as revenge, but he still believes they should be together.
You faithless loves the only hoax I believe in/left a part of me back in New York/you knew you won so whats the point of keeping score
I Wish You Would
Betty begins to miss James again, recalling memories and how they got back together once, hoping he will come back to her again.
I wish you were right here right now/miss you too much to be mad anymore/makes you turn right back around
My Tears Ricochet
James thinks Betty still hates him but doesn’t understand why she has recently reached out to him. James believes Betty has metaphorically killed him as he had to leave New York when people turned against him. James realises that any sadness he has, Betty has too and that any pain (tears) he has, they almost bounce off him onto Betty as she has the same pain.
Did I deserve babe all the hell you gave me?/you’re the hero flying around saving face/if Im dead to you why are you at the wake?/I can go anywhere I want just not home/you would still miss me in your bones/cursing my name wishing I’d stay/my tears ricochet
Cardigan
Betty recalls the love she shared with James and about his affair and coming back to her. She recalls how she knew all along that she wouldn’t get over him.
Chase two girls lose the one/marked me like a bloodstain/linger like a tattoo kiss/youd miss me once the thrill expired/I knew youd come back to me
The 1
Betty looks back on her love with James and notes how he could have been the one if he showed her he loved her and didnt cheat or lie.
If you wanted me you really shouldve showed/greatest loves of all time are over now/wouldve been fun if you wouldve been the one
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The One Where the Moon Became a Witness
pairing: sera x jeno
summary: in the middle of a blackout and dead phones, they danced to the music from her box in the dark with light from the moon streaming in through the window
for christmas, the members all respectively went to their homes with Renjun and Chenle going back to China and the rest to their families, but 2 remain. The parents of the two decided to take vacations without their children since they were told to warn their families that they might not make it back home for the holidays. But it was proven wrong as they were free and now, had no family to go to.
One was in a cruise while the other was in a vacation to make up for a previously cancelled anniversary trip.
Refusing the other members’ wish to stay with them, they slightly regretted the decision at the empty dorm and the silence that filled every crevice.
Sera sat on the couch with Haikyuu playing in the TV but she was barely paying attention, instead focusing on her phone with her fingers typing rapidly and her brows furrowed together. Her brothers were all in college and they too, were without their parents. At least, they had each other and met up in New York.
...
elliot: why couldn’t you just have taken a plane here
mika: its only 15 hours
sera: ‘iTs oNLy 15 hOUrS’
sera: fool get off crack
elias: we dont want you here anyways 😤
sera: i will actually fite your face
atticus: its literally christmas eve
atticus: would it kill you to be nice for a few days
sera: hmm,,, suddenly mom appeared in the chat
mika: can you video later
mika: we usually celebrate the first few hours of christmas together
elliot: we wouldnt need to do that if finny was here
sera: lit rally just say you miss me
elliot: yall hear sum
elias: SLDKFJAELLIOT
sera: that unfair
sera: i dont have a twin to clown you with
elliot: god has his favorites and its obviously not you
mika: stop arguing
mika: its annoying having to swipe up when i just want to play my game
sera: jeez, mik, why you so pissy for
atticus: elias used up all the hot water
sera: imagine being pissy for taking a cold shower
sera: you shouldnt be unfamiliar with it since you used to take one every morning right, brother mikhail sir?
elias: KSDFJ;ASDKLGHKLDSFJIMSCREAMING
elliot: GET REKT HYUNG
mika: GOD SERAFINA SHUT UP
atticus: one christmas
atticus: one peaceful christmas was what i want
...
jeno noticed her soft smile and he approached her, holding 2 mugs full of hot chocolate and marshmallows topped with whipped cream. Exactly how she liked it. A giggle escaped from her and she turned to look at him as she felt the cushion beside her sink due to the weight placed on it. She smiled gratefully at him and moved to hold her cup so he could safely hold his.
“Do you miss them?” He asked, noticing the name of her oldest brother’s name pop up.
With a wistful look, she nodded and blew on the hot liquid. “Yeah. Even though I want to see them, we only have 3 days of break so its not worth flying back and forth.”
Jeno wrapped an arm around her shoulder, gently pulling her close. His eyes trained on the ball that flew around the court in the show and he felt her laugh when the orange-haired boy missed the ball.
“Ah, no!” She whined with a laugh at the face of the boy.
Continuing to watch the banter between 2 characters, they grew silent as they became focused and interested at the show and the speech that a character was giving. She soaked in every word since it reminded her and Dream but then it went blank.
Everything went dark and the soft glow from the street light came through the window beside the TV to give them a way to see things a little bit clearer. Jeno felt her tense form and with the help of the slight light, he gently pried the cup off of her hands and placed both of their mugs on the coffee table in front of the couch.
“Ah, we have a blackout,” Jeno said. Sera nodded and she moved to turn on the flashlight from her phone only for it to blink ‘1%’ in red.
Cursing at the worst timing, she turned it off and placed it to the side since it was no use anymore. “Jeno, can we use your phone?”
With a sheepish look, he sent her a lop-sided smile. “You see, I played my game too much and I just plugged it in earlier. It might not have a lot of charge in it. I can go get it?”
“Oh, it’s okay. We just need it to tell the boys we have a blackout and in case they need to get ahold of us,” she reasoned as he stood up to get it from his room and coming back with it on hand.
They sat in silence, even the sound of birds disappeared and was replaced with eerie quietness which was very unfamiliar to the dorm. This might be the first time the walls heard such silence after they moved in.
“The light is hurting my eyes,” Jeno mumbled before taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.
“Do you want to go in my room? My string lights are battery operated so it’s not turned off. It’s very bright,” she suggested. He nodded and they padded over to her room at the end of the hall.
Jeno has been in her room millions of times so it wasn’t unfamiliar territory and he even noticed his hoodie hanging on her chair.
“There it is!” He pointed at the missing material he was just looking for a few days ago.
Sera smiled guiltily and placed her hands up. “Sorry,” she apologized.
“Nah, it’s okay. I just thought I lost it. You can keep it,” he reassured before jumping on her bed. “It’s so not fair you got a soft bed.”
She rolled her eyes before climbing on it beside him. “What are you talking about? Jaemin has the softest. This isn’t that comfortable.”
Jeno turned his head to look at her and his ears turned red as admired the way the bright lights against the wall illuminated her face and made her eyes brighter than they usually were. It almost made it look like she was glowing.
Sera noticed his stare and looked at him curiously. “Hm? Something on my face?”
He snapped out of it and his smile reached his eyes, turning it to crescents. “No. I just like the lights.”
For a 30 minutes, they just talked about absolute nonsense and old memories to past time since they couldn’t use his phone for entertainment. Then the string up lights flickered slightly that went unnoticed by the two.
“God, Chenle almost killed Renjun. Thank god you were able to hold him back,” Sera laughed at the memory.
Jeno shook his head with a smile when he remembered the unpleasant time that Renjun spilled a little bit of paint on his apple watch. “Honestly, he could’ve just gotten a new one. It didn’t help that you pointed it out in the first place.”
“Yah, if I didn’t, Jisung would’ve. There was a big blob of blue in the screen of his watch. Who wouldn’t notice that?” She defended and tightened her hold of his middle.
“Okay, okay,” he chuckled and was about to say something when for the second time that day, they were covered in darkness again.
“Really, God absolutely hates me right now,” she muttered harshly. “Chenle took all of that good luck with him. I told him to leave that jade bracelet here.”
Jeno knew about her slight fear of the dark because she slept with the lights on everyday and it’s been probably a while since she changed the batteries.
“You stay here while I go get some batteries and a flashli-”
“No, don’t leave me.” She stopped him from sitting up with a hand on his arm.
Jeno saw her slight wide eyes and nodded before laying back down. His brain racked up ways to comfort and keep her entertained but he came blank. Turning his head to the side, he looked around her room with blurry eyes and he found the small box that she had on top of her dresser.
“I have an idea,” he said. “But I need to get up, love. Will you let me go get it?”
She nodded and he smiled softly before standing up and crossing the room to grab the circular object. Sera sat up and saw the familiar outline of her great-grandmother’s music box that was given to her right before she died.
Jeno gently wound the box and opened the lid, hearing the soft melody of an unknown song and watching the dancing of the 2 figures. He placed it on her nightstand and he held his hand out to her.
“May I have this dance, m’lady?” He asked. Sera wasn’t able to answer properly since the moon hit behind him so perfectly that it looked like he was an angel and she still cannot believe someone as gorgeous and perfect like Jeno was her best friend.
“I-Um,, Yes.”
In their pajamas and socks, the two people danced slowly, moving side to side. Their eyes were closed as they slowly got lost into their own world. The soft music from the box filled the room and she could feel his heartbeat as her head rested on his chest and her arms were loosely around his neck. Jeno’s hold of her waist tightened when she moved closer to his warm form.
“Thanks, Jen.” Her gratitude made a smile appear in his face and he kissed the top of her head.
“I can feel your heartbeat,” she mumbled against the cloth.
“Hm? Can you really?” He asked, smile growing wide.
“Yea,” she answered. “Hey, Jen?”
“Hm?”
“I love your smile the most.”
The declaration took him aback. “W-Well, thanks?”
Sera smiled at his awkward stutter and continued on. “It reminds me of the moon. When you smile, it just lights up everything else. Like the moon in the sky. It gives purpose and comfort that there is light in the midst of darkness. And your eyes. They scrunch up like moon crescents. That’s my favorite hour of the moon.”
“I love your smile, too.” He giggled and there was something different in the atmosphere.
She opened her eyes and saw the digital clock flash a red ‘12:05′. “Look, it’s Christmas.”
Jeno moved his head and he swears he could see faint snowflakes. “Oh? It is.”
“I guess I got my wish then,” she hummed happily.
“What?”
“I wanted God to let me spend Christmas with someone I love,” she revealed and looked up to meet his eyes. “It wasn’t just a coincidence that you happened to have to stay here too.”
He brushed away strands of her hair that rested on her face before patting her hair. “Stuff happens for a reason.”
“When I came to Korea, you and Jaemin were the only ones I had. But now, I have 18 people with me. I’m very thankful for everything but I think meeting you is the one I’m most thankful for.”
The confession might’ve been spawned as she got more tired and sleepy but he thinks that she’s probably wanted to say that for a while.
“I’m here for you, Sera. I’ve been here from the start and I’ll be here till the end.” Jeno reassured and she hugged him tighter with a content sigh.
His promise is only heard by the 4 walls of her room and remembered by the two of them but it signifies a new beginning and the creation of a deeper bond and the only witness was the moon.
And it thought this was beautiful.
a/n: this was lowkey cute but it didnt turn out the way i wanted it to :(
#nct dream#nct#nct 22nd member#nct dream 8th member#nct au#nct dream imagines#nct dream imagine#nct dream scenarios#nct dream scenario#nct dream 8th member au#8th member of nct dream#nct 22nd member au#22nd member of nct#nct dream female member#nct female member#nct female addition#nct dream female addition
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Stalker Boy
Part 2
Warnings: Angst, slow burn, anxiety, cussing
Relationships: Dylan O’Brien/Reader
Word Count: 2617
Author: @dylan-obrien-fanblog
A/N: So here’s part two. I spent roughly four and a half hours on this, but probably only actually wrote for about 1 hour. I;m actually really proud of this and excited to see what people think. (by people i mean like the 3 people who actually read my stuffs). I left it with some closure, but if ya’ll want a part 3, let me know and I’ll whip something up. Thankies. You can tell towards the end I was losing it. I wrote this having had 3 hours of sleep and I’ve been awake since 9am. it is now 9pm.
Part 1
Part 2
Reader POV
You groaned into your pillow as you laid in bed, alerting Kayla who had been passing by your room. She backpedaled and lingered in the door frame, giving you a face of contemptment. Meeting her gaze, you grunted as you threw the pillow you were holding at her head. She cackles as she jumps out of the way, picks up the pillow and then sits next to you in bed. You sit up to meet your friend, “It's been over a week! You gave him the right number, right?”
Kayla looked at you like you were insane and nodded, “Yes. I’ve told you at least a hundred times, I gave him your number.”
“But are you sure? You were drunk off your ass.”
Kayla glared at your accusation then rolled her eyes. “Yes, I was slightly inebriated, but not black out drunk. Thank you very much.” Kayla then stood up and sashayed away as you groaned again, flopping back down into your bed. “He’ll call!” She shouted over her shoulder as she exited the room.
You laid there for a couple minutes, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating your situation and your options. You replayed the memory in your mind, trying to find the point in which you could have scared him off. Maybe you gave him your all too familiar crazed eye look, or made him feel uncomfortable at the length of time you stared at him. Could he possibly think you were in fact a crazy person by the way you fumbled your words and how you freaked out when he approached you? That had to be it. He thinks you're a nutcase and too much work. Rolling over onto your stomach, you groaned into the pillow as you buried your head in it.
“I need a distraction.” Deciding you needed to put your thoughts elsewhere, before you actually drove yourself into insanity, you hopped out of bed and left the room to go watch a movie. You passed Kayla’s room and saw her laying in bed reading some girly magazine you would never touch. Ick. “Hey,” she looked up at you, giving her attention, “you wanna watch a movie? Preferably something violent and mindless.” You gritted your teeth in a smile, hoping she would catch on to the need for distraction.
Kayla sighed and whined as she spoke, “You know I hate those kinds of movies. Can we watching something sappy? Those are the best.”
You stared down your mentally blonde friend as she was obviously oblivious to your current mental state. “Kayla. The last thing I need right now is some stupid love story to remind me of my terrible luck with guys.”
“You mean guy. More specifically, the guy from the bar. What was his name again?” She laughed as she spoke, but let out a yelp as you lunged at her for the antagonization. You both laughed and giggled as you wrestled and then settled into the bed. “Honestly Y/N, don’t overthink it. Okay?” She smiled at you, making you relax.
The ease of your muscles didn’t last long as you heard your ringtone come from your room. Your body tensed and your eyes widened, pupils dilating as you stared at Kayla. She stared back in confusion, wondering why you weren’t moving. Your mind was racing and your body was frozen. Was it him? What would you say? What will he say? Why did he take so long to call? Does he want to see me again?
You realized you were wasting time and jumped up, hurdling yourself across the bed, making yourself look like a fool. You ran through the door, slamming against the wall and practically slid down the hall to your room. You grabbed your phone off your nightstand and saw an unrecognizable number. Pupils blown, you answered the call and lifted the phone to your ear. With a shaky voice you answered.
“He..hello?” There was a pause of silence that lasted less than five seconds, but felt like five million.
“Hi, I’m calling about your car’s extended warranty…”
The automated voice on the line continued as you remained silent, heart and soul completely obliterated. A rumble started in your stomach and rolled its way up your throat and to your mouth, escaping as a scream that scared Kayla shitless.
Dylan POV
Dylan stared at the picture of the girl on his phone, amazed by her beauty. He whispered her name under his breath, almost unsure that the entire encounter had even happened, his only proof that she was even real was this picture. He promised himself he would wait at least a couple days before he called, but it was getting difficult. He looked at the clock and grunted at what he saw. It had only been sixteen hours since he met her.
He opened the contact for Y/N and held his thumb above the number, hesitating to tap down on the illuminated screen. He held it there until his thumb began to ache from the uncomfortable position. Fuck it, he thought as he let the digit fall and hit the number, initiating the call.
The phone rang four times before and automated voice bellowed through the line. “The number you have tried to reach is no longer in service or has been disconnected…” The woman in his ear continued as confusion and horror befell his mole-speckled face.
“What the fuck?” He shouted into the phone as if the programmed voice would have the answer. He hung up the line and attempted the call a second time, achieving the same results. He drew his brows in and jutted out his jaw as rage filled his lungs. How could this happen? Y/N’s friend, whos name escaped him, must have given him the wrong number. But how? He took the phones from her when he saw her struggling and--. Shit. She had put in the first six digits to the phone number with her fumbling fingers and he had entered the last four. She must have typed them in wrong. Six numbers. That’s probably over a million different combinations.
The brunette threw his head back on the couch in defeat and whined at his predicament. How was he going to call her? He only knew her first name and there had to be millions of Y/Ns in the world, and thousands in the city alone. He slouched on the couch and hung his head holding his phone in his lap. He turned the device to face him and pulled up the picture of the angel who was now lost to him.
Four weeks later
Dylan was crossing the busy street that was crowded and full of people. In the mass sea of bodies, what he thought to be absolutely impossible was now before his eyes. Further up the block, there she was, plain as day. He shook his head, blinking his eyes rapidly to ensure he wasn’t, in fact, seeing things. The girl was sitting at a small round table for two outside of a cafe, her nose buried in a book. She couldn't be more than 100 feet away, so Dylan altered his course without hesitation and closed the distance between them. As he neared her, he was unable to tell if his heavy breathing was from the presence of the angel in front of him or that he was now moving at a much more rapid pace.
He now stood less than 15 feet away from the girl he had dreamed about almost every night since they met. At that moment he made a mental note not to tell her that to avoid sounding like a creep. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and placed the curve of his hand on her shoulder.
Reader POV
You had just gotten off work and found yourself craving a pastry. Although you knew you probably shouldn’t eat the sweet, work was relatively difficult, so you determined that you deserved it. You questioned whether you should stop at the shop on 9th or sit and read at the cafe on 12th. It had been a while since you were actually able to sit down and read with how crazy work had been recently. Hailing a cab, you told him the address of the cafe and slumped back into the plastic covered seat underneath you.
It took about ten minutes to reach the destination, so you paid the driver and exited the yellow vehicle and sat at your favorite table. You relaxed into the iron-wired chair and opened your book to the page you had left the story at. Before you could fully delve into the enticing tale, the waiter appeared and offered his services. You ordered a puff pastry with cherry filling and some tea. Not long after, he returned with the requested items and swiftly left to assist other customers. You took an over-exaggerated bite that was too big and felt the cherry filling stick to your face. You blushed at your lack of etiquette and self-consciously wiped the mess off your face. Sipping your tea and taking smaller bites, you buried your face in your book.
Time and the world escaped you as you were consumed by the drama, mystery, and romance that filled the pages your eyes roamed. You were so unaware of your surroundings that when a rough hand landed on your shoulder you screamed and almost flew out of your seat. You instinctively dropped the book in your hands and used your arms to balance you, preventing the tumble to the ground.
“We gotta stop meeting like this.” A soft and smooth voice chuckled as it rolled over your shoulder and echoed through your ears. You immediately froze at the memorable sound, fearing your sound holes were betraying you. Turning frantically, you accidentally hit the man in the face with your hair, causing him to spit and claw at the strands as he flew back.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” You bellowed reaching out to the disoriented face. When he found his bearings, he looked you over and began to attempt to hide the chuckle that rumbled in his throat. Your brows furrowed as anxiety saturated your already embarrassed and shocked nervous system. “What? Is there something on my face?” Your eyes filled with horror as you wiped the right corner of your mouth.
“Actually, yes.” He no longer attempted to hide the laugh as he walked up to you, less than a foot between you. He reached out to the left corner of your mouth with his right hand and wiped away the leftover pastry, which you were now undoubtedly regretting. Your lips were slightly parted by the touch and your eyes locked as he wiped away the mess. His fingers smelled of lavender and cigarettes which was surprisingly intoxicating and left you brimming with heat.
You both stood there, his fingers on your mouth and eyes locked for an unnatural amount of time, but you were the first to break the trance as you shook your head and stepped back. “What are you doing here?” You shot at him, the indignatious tone in your voice obvious.
“Well, this is a street, and I was crossing it.” He motioned to the street in front of you as if you were a child who needed visualization. The emotion that lingered in your voice was now visible on your face and the scruffy-looking man cocked his head in wonder. “What?” He bluntly asked.
“You never called me.”
Immediately a look of enlightenment fell upon his face as he palmed his forehead. He must have realized the total asshole had been for not calling and then acting like he did nothing wrong. He moved his hand from his face to the back of his neck, almost hiding behind his raised bicep. Ignore the biceps, you’re mad. “I can explain why that never happened, which I’m completely sorry about.” You jerked your head, informing him to elaborate. “Your friend...she was drunk. I was going to wait a couple days to call you, but I couldn’t wait so I tried the next day, but I guess the number she gave me was wrong because it said it was disconnected and then I had no idea what to do because I really wanted to talk to you but I had no idea how to find you and--”
“While I would love to continue to listen to you verbal on-run sentence, it’s okay. I get it.” He smiled at your understanding and took a step closer again. “Let me see your phone. I’ll make sure you have the right number this time.” His smile showed teeth, very white and beautiful teeth that you couldn’t help but smile too. God, this man just keeps getting more and more beautiful. Even his smile is gorgeous. What the actual fuck.
He pulled the device out of his pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to you. When you opened up the contact info under your name, you were shocked to see the picture of yourself, but it was more flattering than alarming. Your eyes trailed down to the number your idiot friend had given him and you laughed. Dylan looked at you as if you had told a joke and he missed the punchline. He moved to stand next to him, a shiver shooting down your spine as your shoulders touched, and showed him the screen. “The number she gave you was close. She switched the 8 and 6, they’re in the wrong places.”
You pulled the phone back, not breaking your contact to him, and fixed the error, then pressed the new number. Immediately the phone in your pocket began to ring and a smile of victory washed over your features. “Now you don't have any more excuses.” You handed him the phone and a look of adoration and appreciation was exhibited on his mug.
“Thanks. Besides, I won’t need any.” He winked at the end of his sentence as his previous timid trait melted away and was replaced by a cocky one.
“Look who’s being cocky.” You smirked at the mole-speckled boy, but a mixture of shock and heat permeated at his response.
“Oh you don’t know the half of it.” The brunette waggled his eyebrows at you with a crooked smile that made you want to jump his bones right then and there. But you didn't. Sadly.
In an effort to avoid mortifying yourself, you attempted an escape, “Well, it was really good to see you and I’m glad we got that all cleared up. I should really head home now, though.” Although the man was still smiling, his whisky eyes were frowning and full of sorrow. You would have given in right then and there, but self-control availed yet again.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asked desperately.
“As far as I know, nothing.”
“Well, I know what you're doing.” You were impressed with his wit and laughed in your chest. “You’re gonna spend the day with me.” His cocky demeanor was betrayed by his nervous eyes, but they relaxed when you smiled and nodded. As you started to leave, he shouted over to you. “I’ll call you.”
Without hesitation, you shot him a glare that could have cut him in half were your eyes lasers. He palmed the back of his neck and nervously chuckled, but then composed himself and winked. You smiled from ear to ear and stuck your tongue at him as you turned and then headed home to first, yell at Kayla, and then freak out as you tell her everything that just happened.
Taglist: @xceafh
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Mateo's Eight chapter 2 (Branjie) - athena2
Summary: Con artist Vanessa Mateo has just been released from prison, and she’s planning one last heist to erase her debts and start a new life for herself.
But for this to succeed, she needs the help of the very person who ratted her out to the cops: her ex-girlfriend, Brooke Lynn Hytes.
(An Ocean’s Eight AU)
Previously: Vanessa began setting up a heist and was forced to call her ex, who ratted her out to the cops
Now: Brooke answers a phone call from Vanessa, who she hasn’t spoken to in six months
A/N: Thank you all so much for your feedback on chapter 1 and interest in this so far! It really helped encourage me and I hope you can leave some more on this chapter. Thank you to Writ for being the most amazing beta!
—
Brooke has a million reasons not to answer that phone.
Hell, she has a million reasons why she should have thrown the thing away in the first place.
But she didn’t.
She’s not only held on to the phone, but has also kept it fully charged in her bedside table, along with the pictures of her and Vanessa that hurt to look at, for six months.
Brooke had stared at it for hours after that day, the day when everything came crashing down around her. When the life they had imagined went up in smoke. After they released her from the police station, Brooke had dialed Vanessa’s number until her fingers ached and that number was the only thing in her head, trying to explain what happened, why she did it, even when she knew Vanessa wouldn’t answer, would never answer again because of what Brooke had done to her.
Brooke should have thrown the phone away then and there, killed her last connection to Vanessa, the same way she’s tried to kill her feelings. She’s succeeded for the most part, except for when she rolls over in bed, expecting to meet warmth and finding cold, empty space, when she goes four blocks out of her way to avoid the diner, when she automatically reaches for creamer in the grocery store even though she takes her coffee black.
She’s wide awake–Brooke doesn’t think she’s slept through the night in six months, when she started sleeping alone again–when the ringing tears through the room and makes her heart stop. That clunky Nokia would buzz in Brooke’s pocket and signal the start of a con, one they had built together in the diner, taking notes and picking steps apart as their feet in their scammed-for boots wrapped around each other under the table.
There’s no way anyone but Vanessa could be calling that phone. But why now? Why at all?
Brooke does some quick math in her head. It’s been six months since that day. Vanessa must be out of prison now. Could she really be calling Brooke after what she did? Brooke knows Vanessa won’t easily forgive something like that, if she’ll forgive it at all.
But she’s still calling, and there has to be a reason.
If this is a chance for Brooke to explain herself, tell Vanessa the secret she was hiding for all those months–the secret that forced her into confessing–she has to take it. At least it will help Brooke sleep better if Vanessa knows the truth.
“Who is this?”
—
Brooke frowns at the unfamiliar number on her phone screen. She barely answers the phone for people she does know, but she takes the chance and picks up anyway.
“Hello?” She asks.
“Brooke?”
“Yeah, um, who is this?” The voice is strangely familiar, with a roughness that makes Brooke’s heart pound.
“It’s Vanessa. You know, from the store?” Her question quirks up with hope at the end.
The phone almost slips through Brooke’s hands. She orders herself to stay calm despite the excitement burning through her, the endless possibilities on the other end of this call.
“Oh, hey, Vanessa,” Brooke says.
“Hey.” Is it just Brooke, or she can hear the smile in Vanessa’s voice? She pictures Vanessa’s bright teeth flashed in a grin for no one to see.
“So,” Brooke recovers herself quickly, “would you like to do something tonight?”
—
“How long have you been doing this stuff?” Brooke asks. Vanessa hovers around Brooke’s shoulder but is loud enough for Brooke to hear even with the honking cars and endless bustle of people.
“That day you found me was my first big one,” Vanessa admits sheepishly. “Before that it was just street stuff with my friend Silky. Three card Monte, that kinda thing.”
“Seriously?” Brooke asks. She leads Vanessa into a department store, their arms brushing quickly and making Brooke wish they could stay that way forever, that her arm could always feel the tingles of Vanessa against her. “I would’ve never guessed that was your first. You were so natural.”
“I was screamin’ on the inside, Mary,” Vanessa says. “I thought I was gonna piss myself a few times.”
Brooke snorts and nudges Vanessa toward the purses, gesturing at them all. “Pick a purse. Any purse.”
“You sound like a magician.” Vanessa giggles. “You got a magic wand and a cape somewhere?”
“Maybe,” Brooke teases. “I do have some tricks up my sleeve.”
“Will I ever get to see any of ‘em?” There’s a definite flirty tone to Vanessa’s question, one that makes Brooke’s cheeks flush and her mouth dry.
“Maybe,” she says with a nervous smile.
Vanessa raises her eyebrow and Brooke’s knees weaken. “Any purse I want?” Vanessa checks.
Brooke nods. She watches with a smile as Vanessa stalks among the purses like a lion after its prey, stroking the faux-leather and modelling them in the mirror. There’s such easy confidence in the way she moves, like she’s going to take up all the space she wants and everyone else just has to get out of her way. Brooke could watch her for days.
“This one.” Vanessa triumphantly hands Brooke a scarlet purse crisscrossed with little black studs.
Brooke peeks at the name and designer on the tag, blinking in shock at the number of zeros, then beckons Vanessa to follow her upstairs, looking down into the purse department from the second-floor balcony.
“Watch,” Brooke commands, enjoying herself maybe too much, wanting to show off a little for Vanessa. Vanessa’s brown eyes roam over her skin and Brooke’s whole body heats up.
Brooke calls the purse department, adjusts her voice, and begins. “Hi, this is Elizabeth Smith. Account number 415793. Can you get me this purse”–she gives the details she memorized from the tag– “and have it ready at the counter? My assistant will be there in a few minutes to pick it up. Just charge it to my store card. Sorry for the rush, it’s a present for someone and I’m late.”
Vanessa stares at her with an open mouth as the cashier takes the purse, rings it up, and bags it. Brooke then walks downstairs and pretends to be Elizabeth Smith’s assistant, returning upstairs and handing the bag to a still open-mouthed Vanessa. Brooke can’t help but smile. She’s never had someone else to share in the thrill of it all with her, someone to put her skills to use for.
“You must’ve been at this a while, then,” Vanessa says finally.
“A few months.” Brooke doesn’t want to talk about what stole her hope and pushed her into this, why she has so many bills. She doesn’t want to talk about the box under her bed where she stashes money in the hopes of affording a good lawyer one day. She’s just not ready for Vanessa to know yet.
“Well, you’re a pro.”
“I like the planning of it, I guess,” Brooke says, face flushing at the praise. Planning and organizing has calmed her since she was a kid, rearranging stuffed animals and alphabetizing books to drown out her parents arguing. A way of getting the control she didn’t have in her big, cold house. “Writing it all out, making sure it’ll work. That’s how I came up with this one. I was here yesterday. I heard Elizabeth Smith giving her info at the counter and planned it out,” Brooke explains.
“Holy shit,” Vanessa mumbles. “Well, thank you.”
Her awestruck eyes look up at Brooke, and the sheer joy of making Vanessa happy hits right in Brooke’s heart. It’s something she wants to experience forever.
“Hey,” Brooke says. “Um, next week, do you–can I take you on a date? A real date, with dinner and no scams?”
Vanessa smiles. “I’d like that.”
—
“I have something planned,” Vanessa says.
That’s the absolute last thing Brooke expected, especially when Vanessa hasn’t even been out of prison 24 hours yet, and it’s a few seconds before she can muster up words through her shock.
“No.” Brooke has given all that up, given up the schemes and lies and the designer clothes she scammed herself into. She’s lived a perfectly normal, perfectly safe (perfectly boring) life the past six months, another way to separate herself from the old life she had with Vanessa. She told herself she would never con again, that she would just chip away at her debts and the ever-rising interest rates using her paycheck from the dance studio like everyone else. No cons, no scams, no lies. (And no hope of ever freeing herself of those bills).
“It’s the biggest thing I’ve ever thought of. I need you to see this through.”
Vanessa needs her.
Those words would have once sent Brooke running no matter what time it was or what Vanessa needed. There were mornings when she woke early and the sun hit Vanessa’s face just right, and suddenly an angel was wrapped in the white sheets of Brooke’s bed. It was times like those that Brooke would have harnessed the damn moon and pulled it down if that was what Vanessa wanted.
“No.”
“I know you still have bills. They could all be gone in one night.” Vanessa was always quicker to show her emotions than Brooke was, feelings passing across her face and bursting in each word. She’s trying to keep them out here, trying to lure Brooke in with cool logic, but there’s a hint of desperation in her tone that she can’t quite conceal.
All her bills gone in one night. Brooke can’t let herself consider that possibility, because she doesn’t need this danger. But the relief of having her bills paid off, never having to worry about how to pay for groceries and electricity, is growing too great to resist. She’s been conning almost two years, saving money where she can in the hopes of paying things off, all of it feeling like one huge battle she’ll never win. One night could end that battle.
Brooke feels the itch tugging at her fingers, the thrill pulsing in her heart, the urge in her to just forget her boring life and rob someone blind, to send a giant middle finger to the universe that let her sink into tens of thousands of dollars in debt for medical bills when the assholes she conned had garages full of collectible million-dollar cars that collected nothing but dust.
Some part of her wants to do it, wants to fight for something again, wants to win. She didn’t fight hard enough when it counted in court, wasn’t able to win against her ex-husband, and he took the person she loves more than anyone. Vanessa is promising big money, probably enough for her to take him back to court and win.
But if this is the biggest thing Vanessa’s ever thought of, the risk must be astronomical. Vanessa always saw the reward, jumping into danger for the rush of the prize. Brooke was always stuck with the responsibility of seeing the risk, putting a net under each of Vanessa’s jumps, preparing for a fall. It had suited her–suited them–Vanessa with the drive to make it happen and Brooke with the meticulous nature to make sure it would work.
“No,” Brooke says for the third time, cursing herself inwardly for her stupid idea that Vanessa called to hear her side of things, that there was even a chance Vanessa still loves her. But it’s a lot harder for that refusal to come out than the other two.
“I didn’t want to do this…” Vanessa sighs, “but who’s to say I don’t go back to the cops and let them know who my accomplice was?”
Brooke stills, heartbeat in her ears. “You wouldn’t do that,” she manages around the lump of fear in her throat. The normal life she created for herself, the future she sometimes allows herself to dream of, everything she’s worked for, would all be ruined, just like that. Just like she had ruined Vanessa’s life.
Vanessa laughs bitterly. “Wouldn’t I? ‘Cause you did the exact same thing to me. After you promised you would always protect me.” Vanessa’s anger jumps through the phone and slaps Brooke in the face, but there’s a touch of pain under there. A touch of hurt in trusting the wrong person.
Brooke deserves it, she knows she does. But she can’t bear to have Vanessa in pain, especially when she caused it, even if she knows she had to do what she did. If only she could explain it, try to make Vanessa understand that Brooke never wanted to hurt her.
“Vanessa, I—”
“You help me, you get the money, and I stay quiet. I think you kind of owe me, don’t you?” Vanessa poses the final blow, and Brooke’s resolve crumbles. If she can do this for Vanessa, they can at least be even after what happened last August. They’ll each get their money and go their separate ways, though hearing Vanessa’s voice again makes Brooke realize how much she’s missed it, and she’s not sure she wants to go her separate way.
“How much?” Brooke asks.
Vanessa whispers the number in her ear.
Damn it. With that kind of money she can get rid of her debts once and for all, even with the interest. She won’t ever have to choose between paying the water or electricity bill, or silence her rumbling stomach when she smells fresh bread from a bakery. She can buy a nice house, set up a flower garden and a vegetable patch–hell, with that money she could buy a mansion with a freaking fountain in front–away from the dust and noise of the city, instead of this apartment that smells like fish and is barely big enough to fit her, sometimes suffocating in its size. It’s more than enough for a strong lawyer to help get Zoey back.
Brooke looks at the picture on her nightstand, blonde hair and blue eyes smiling back at her.
“I’m in,” Brooke says.
#rpdr fanfiction#brooke lynn hytes#vanessa vanjie mateo#akeria davenport#silky nutmeg ganache#yvie oddly#scarlet envy#nina west#branjie#lesbian au#angst#oceans 8 au#mateos 8#athena2#concrit welcome#submission
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Blinded By Your Light - Part 4. On Losing.
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: Y/N is the definition of ordinary. Studying at a medical school as far as she can get from her rainy hometown of Birmingham, she never expected to be shipped off the Flanders when the war was at it’s peak. Much less to meet a handsome young patient with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she had seen in her life who as fate would have it would fall into her lap.
Word Count: 6129 (it turns out I CAN write something less than 5k, but it was a horrifying experience and I’m never doing that again).
Warnings: character death (I introduce a character and then kill them off immediately because there is a god and I’m not him), wOmEn BoNdInG?!?! NoT iN mY gOoD cHrIsTiAn PaTrIaRcHy!!!1!
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It took you a moment when you woke up to remember where you were and, for a blissful moment, who you were too. There were days when you thought that, waking up early in the morning before the sun had risen, you could be anyone that came to mind and the world would not change at all. All would be so still in just one moment that you could almost convince yourself that you were, as you so often did as a child, emerging from the final pages of some thick and absorbing book and finding yourself once more in the curious light of a reality that was somewhat stranger than the world you had left behind. As you sat up in your narrow childhood bed it was tempting to believe that all of this had been some fanciful imagination of your tempestuous mind, a dream for want of a better word with which to give such heart-wrenching fairytales justice.
But then your eyes landed on the pile of rumpled clothes dumped upon the chair, and the reality came flooding back as though that unbreakable wall you had put up in your mind had finally broken. All that hurt and all that tragic backstory was real, was yours, and before you there was only... what? Nothing? You realised, slumping back against the pillows, that for the first time in your life you had absolutely no idea what you were going to do. It was easy to say so many times before that you just had to know where you wanted to go and do whatever it took to get there, but what did you do when you didn't even know where you wanted to go?
Medicine was a no-go. You thought it quite probable that if you saw another undressed wound or bedpan you would set fire to your apron and quite possibly a couple of hospital sheets too. Not to mention the images that still haunted your darkest dreams each night, burnt into the backs of your eyes so that you feared none of these long nights would ever get you clean. Those long, dark nights, when you could almost see your soul itself in the raw redness of the skin you scrubbed clean, washing away the taste of the hospital and the scream of the train whistle in your ears and the itch of blood upon your skin and upon your soul and dripping down the walls all around. You thought it might be time to repent for all that, try to find some way you could help people for real this time, the deep shit, not just sitting and smiling and pretending you'd done them a favour by saving their lives.
So it was with a heavy heart that you left the house that morning, setting out a plate of breakfast before your father, asleep in his chair and you thought he probably had not moved since the night before, unseeing eyes watching the locked door. You patted his hand gently, rowsing him and then making to move away as you saw his eyes scrunch up and then open.
"Hmm?"
"(Y/N)." you reminded him, smiling feebly before remembering that he could not see you. That hurt a little, you had to admit, and you snatched the ring of keys briskly off the tabletop to begin the laborious task of unlocking the door, blinking to push back the emotions pressing against your eyes in the terrible threat of tears, when you heard him stir and clear his throat behind you.
"Yer out early, eh?" a note of concern, of fatherhood in his voice that surprised both of you. You smiled wider, more truthfully this time, and he coughed awkwardly. You wondered how long it had been since he had had a daughter. You wondered how long it had been since you had had a father. Your smile dropped. You tried not to think about it any more.
"Gotta find a job, 'en't I?"
"If yer want t', I s'pose."
"Was sort of hoping you could give me a word. Where to go, y'know?"
"Heard Larry from the butcher's hiring." you shivered at the thought of all that blood, the images flashing through your head like dreadful fireworks, visceral and garish in their bright shots of red and stark white. You shook the thoughts away. Somehow he must have noticed - somehow he always knew - because he went on quickly, in a strained voice, "post office is always hiring. Should be nice." There was a heavy tension in the room that neither of you could quite find your way around, the sound of secrets left unsaid as both of you looked on at the person you had known your whole life and suddenly knew nothing at all about. There were a million things you wished you knew, and every one you knew you never would.
"Yeah. Sure." you murmured noncommittally, breaking open the last of the locks and slipping through the doorway, into the austere iciness of the unlit church. You went to push aside the curtain, then stopped and took a breath, eyes closed.
You thought you could taste it rich upon your tongue, the memory of incense clouding your senses as you dream you can make out the faces turning to watch you tumble though the curtain and down the steps, six years old again and dressed in your favourite blue dress for church, Isaiah Jesus crashing through behind you. Or twelve years old, and kissing him over and over behind this curtain where the shadows play like angels' fingers upon the wall and every breath is another secret and you've never had secrets before. Or, the sweetest sadness you had yet to know, eighteen years old and untangling your suitcase from the swathes of thick purple fabric caught up in the wheels, as your mother grabbed at your wrist and your father stood on by the altar, stony silence like the tomb. You hadn't seen the church alight since then.
You hadn't seen the sunlight pouring through the stained glass windows, shattering upon the cool floor beneath the altar, the way the churchgoers hunched and shivered in their seats because it was always cold here, nor heard the deep cry of the old organ in the corner. You had learned that once. You thought you must have forgotten it, because now you were sure that no note would come out right. It seemed almost blasphemous, coming back and expecting it all to be the same as that dreadful moment when you left it, afraid and so alone because that was how you liked to be back then. Those dark Sundays under the watchful eyes of God, the one thing that, in this little city of odds and ends, made you all feel whole.
Still you ached, pined, for the way their faces turned to you one by one as you made your way down the aisles to sit at your pew at the back of the church in your pretty Sunday dresses. Still trying to rewrite a memory over that last morning when all the world had fallen apart, running down the aisle with your bags spilling clothes like tears and promises behind you, tears and promises that haunted you still, behind you and around you the way they were the day you left, and all the days you didn't come back. The awful way they looked at you, your mother quick behind you and pulling at the hem of the warmest coat you found, the stained glass windows as they painted the hot tears on your cheeks. And the worst thought, that if you had the chance to do it again you knew you always would.
You breathed out.
Opening your eyes to the small space behind the curtain, you tugged it aside and slipped through into the church. No beam of light upon the altars, and the stained glass windows were thick with dust, you stood in the shadows near to the centre of the church, looking on in the muddy half-light at the way the pews stood empty, a single old woman hunched over her clasped hands and you wished you could pry them apart, put between them a penny and tell her she was better now and on her way, for you would find no God here. There had been no God here for so very long.
She did not look up as you passed, the only sign that she was here at all the breathy whisper that spilled into the silence of the early morning, wrapping around you and you breathed it in like smoke unto your dying lungs, the taste of faith you didn't have and the quiet kindness that came with a fate you did not know yet and looming before you, ominous as the grave. The candles were pitiful and small, and you didn't want to light one now, in the unforgiving glare of daylight. For who to light a candle to - to your father alone in his backroom and when he would step out into the church and find no one left to hear him as he ran out of words to speak, to your mother long since dead and gone and you not there to wish her well as she slipped away into the night, to him as your mind lulled with the quiet memory of the train pulling away, his necklace still heavy at your neck like a second heart upon your chest where it hung no longer because you were older now, and two hearts was two too many. Or maybe for yourself, for the self you lost in the ruinous war and the self you found when you returned. The self you didn't recognise, and the self you remembered, and you weren't quite sure which of them you hated more.
The cold creeping up the ridge of your spine like the icy hands of fate upon your troubled mind, you hurried out of the steps, wincing at the loud ringing of your footsteps upon the tiled floor. Standing in the cold outside, you reached around in your pocket for a cigarette, lighting it with shaky hands and bringing it up to your lips. Taking a long drag on it, you let yourself relax a little, sighing deeply and running your free hand through your hair. The sound of the city you loved so much was muted to a silence, not the silence of sleeping in through the early morning but the silence of the tomb, the unnerving quiet that made you sure that somewhere in this labyrinth of sins there was a man with blood upon his hands and a mind that was too loud. This was a silence you blew your brains out to, or someone else's if you were sicker still. The busy bustle of Sundays at the market, people on their way into the church and the bells, the bells, the way they sang unto the sky and all the gods you did not know, and now only the silence, the absence of your god and the absence of a sky in which to hold you down. You were limitless, and it was terrifying.
From somewhere in the distance you could hear the postman whistling as he made his rounds as he did every morning since forever, regular as the jumbled ticking of the faulty kitchen clock that had kept you up all night with its blissful certainty of an eternity this way. The sun emerged from behind a deep grey cloud, and for a glorious instant there was an explosion of pale golden light upon the street-corner, bathing you in its soft glow as you dropped your cigarette to the pavement that was more dirt than cobblestone, crushing it with the heel of your shoe. Beginning down the street-corner, you took in each brick and stone and tile and window pane as you grew ever closer to the main street. Looking up to the sky, your eyes caught at one point the face of a young child staring down upon you from a second-floor window. You smiled up at him warmly, but his face remained impassive, hard and utterly emotionless, and a moment later the tall, broad figure of his mother appeared behind him, wrapping an arm around him and bringing him away from the window. Your smile faltered and dropped, your expression clouding over as you pulled your coat tighter and began to walk a little faster.
After a couple of minutes of walking in silence your mind began to wander, and you realised that you were finding the right direction almost without thinking, your feet guiding you along the streets like you had never left. With every building a new memory, like the time you and Isaiah Jesus stole a newspaper from the stand outside the newsagents and used it to make a nest for a baby bird you had found down by the cut, or all those winter days when you would drag your mother down to the pawn shop on the richer side of town and look into the windows of the jewellery shops at the Christmas displays, diamonds and sapphires and a million colours of brilliant jewels sparkling in the fairy lights in the window. The days when it snowed you would run to the bakery and ask your aunt and uncle at the counter for a tray to sledge down the steeper streets with your friends. Your aunt and uncle... you wondered how they were now. You were nearly at the bakery, looking out on either side at the familiar shopfronts with their bright signs and cheery notices, only now a little colder, a little less familiar. It was as though seen in some daydream, half-asleep and only partly in control of where your frenzied mind may lead you, and looking on at the world constructed in your mind, too close to real for comfort and yet a world away, changed and disquieting.
You stood for a moment by the door to the bakery, outside looking in. The same rows upon rows of fresh-baked bread, the same colourful tartlets and the sweet pastries you used to pocket every time you visited. You thought they must have known, but you supposed they didn't mind too much. That was back when this city was a family. Something made you wonder if they'd still be so kind these days.
The bell above the door jangled as you opened it, smoothing down your hair and smiling expectantly as you waited for the familiar sound of your aunt and uncles voice coming from the backroom. And for a moment there was nothing; you moved to stand in front of the counter, shifting from foot to foot impatiently and holding your breath. This was the most difficult part - not the leaving but the coming back, and having to explain why you left at all.
"Coming," you caught the faint sound of your aunt's voice from the backroom, weary and low, and you opened your mouth to speak, closed it again when no words came to mind. They would come in their own time. Through the doorway, the large shadow stepped forward, your breath catching as you saw, as if for the first time ever, your aunt. She was smaller than you had expected, the bags under her eyes a deep and sickly purplish-blue and her hair thinner and greyer, pulled back behind her face in a tight. That kind sparkle in her eyes that had drawn you in day after day to talk to her and your uncle was gone, and in its place there was a haunted gleam that seemed to dull her impossibly. She looked tired, as she never had before.
"(Y/N)..." she smiled weakly, opening her floury arms and you rushed into them. And when she held you it was like you never left at all, like you were small and happy like you used to be, and she was big and kind. Like this last near-decade was left behind you at the door, discarded like a heavy winter coat when summer came at last, and all there was was how things were before.
"God I've missed you." you laughed pathetically into her chest, grinning up at her, but there was something in her eyes that made you hesitate for just a moment, a warning and an apology like she had something else to say and didn't quite know how to say it, or maybe didn't want to.
"Y'know, me too, love." she brushed your hair away from your face gently, and if you closed your eyes tight enough you could almost pretend it was not her at all, but the mother you had come back to find and had come back too late. Like you could forget a million things, letters and telegraphs and late nights spent weeping into a pillow in the darkness of your chamber a hundred thousand miles from here and have her back as she was meant to be. You wished... you wished.
"How- how are things?" your words bubbled out, tripping over your tongue as you tried your hardest not to sound worried. There was something hot and cruel, deep in the pit of your stomach, that whispered to you that something was terribly wrong, though you knew not what, and itched to find out. You thought you probably didn't want to know.
"Good... Good." her answer was purposefully vague, and you could not help but notice that she would not meet your eyes. Her gaze darted from the counter to the doorway to the shopfront to the posters upon the wall.
"The bakery?"
"Oh y'know, business as usual." she smiled at you reassuringly, and you knew she was trying to comfort you, to take your mind off something that was decidedly crueller and much much worse, still your stomach was steadily filling up with dread. This pretty picture was falling apart, and there was something missing from it.
"Where's... where's Uncle George?" your voice had dropped to a shaky whisper, tears pressing against the backs of your eyes as you searched her eyes desperately for some kind of sign that you were wrong. You had to be.
"(Y/N)..." she began, steadying you and steeling herself as she readied herself to talk about it just one more time, and you could see the pain in her eyes, anger enough to turn against the face of God and rain down hell upon the love he had not shown.
"No... did I miss him? Thought I'd just come by, see how things were." tears choked your throat and you gasped for breath, drowning in the heavy silence as you held onto her apron in tight fists. You shook your head, babbling under your breath and she tried to hold your cheek but you jerked your head away, staring wildly at her with teary eyes. "I'll go, I'll go, I'll come back when- when he's back. Tell me when he's in and I'll try to- try- try to drop by, o-okay?" but by the end your voice had trailed off into a sob, a whine that pierced the unearthly silence of the bakery, empty safe for the two of you standing at the centre of the storm, clinging to each other as if this wasn't somehow the worst of times and the worst yet to come.
"(Y/N), please. Please." she bunched up her fists in your hair, collapsing into you and you wondered how she'd managed without you and then, more scarily, if she had managed at all. If all you were holding was love and dust and ashes, were you ever made to last? "Listen to me, sweetheart- shhh, s'okay, don't cry. 'm right here. 'm always right here," you sobbed into her chest, making to fall to your knees but she caught you, bringing you back up to her and holding you in her arms like you had never aged a day. "'e might not be back in a little while s'all, love. But we... we'll be okay, won't we, dearie." The small smile she offered you was weak and watery, and you could hardly see it through the tears that burned hot trails down your cheeks. Angry tears, the tears of God forgotten. The tears you had no right to, not after everything you had done and even more you hadn't done in the war that made things bad and the peace that made it worse. "We're gonna be just- just fine. We're gonna be just fine." she murmured, over and over under her breath, steady as the tides and the beating heart that pulsed against your chest as you buried yourself into her embrace.
And it was a lifetime and once more melted into one, all those mornings when you'd cycle with the paper boy to the bakery and your aunt would wrap you up in her arms and slip you a mint humbug from the basket by the counter, taking the newspaper and sending you on your way with a kiss and a promise to call later. Or the days when you'd come rushing in, a raging hurricane with the bells jingling behind you frantically like sirens, and she'd hold you tight as your uncle pressed a plasters on your knees and elbows and made you swear you'd stop fighting with the boys in your class but you all knew you would do no such thing. Like all the nights in the tiny bedroom above the bakery when you'd crawl up into their bed from your cot in the backroom, fitting in between them and dragging up the blankets to sleep in their arms. You never knew what you'd say if they'd asked the next morning what it was you were afraid of, because perhaps you were just afraid that you would spend another second without them when there they lay, so close to you, and you could reach out and touch them if you thought they would not fade away beneath your fingertips like the flowers you brought them everyday.
If you closed your eyes tight enough he was there behind you, plasters in his hand and the smile on his face that you never saw him without. You thought perhaps that at least was your birthright, the right to smile and know that nothing was going to be okay but it would be just fine because that's the way it always was in this little town in the middle of absolutely fucking nowhere. That and the uncanny ability to survive no matter what, and something deep down told you that that would come in very handy in the years to come.
You pulled apart all too soon, wiping your eyes on your coat-sleeves, sighing at the loss of contact as you put on a braave face and adjusted your eyes to the dim sunlight filtering in through the shop window. Outside on the street, still not a soul to be seen.
"Tell me really, why'd'ya come back?" her tone warm but her eyes searching, and not for the first time you felt yourself being warned away from Small Heath. Little tiny things, slips of the tongue, tricks of the light, and enough to make you uneasy beyond all reason. Only a day since you had arrived, and already you were falling back into your old ways, getting nervous over even the smallest of things, searching blindly for meaning where you knew there was none. People knew things here, things that no one should ever be able to know, and it was only now that you were realising just how dangerous that was. You knew there were gypsies in this area, always had been since you were small but even then they kept mostly to themselves. In what letters you had received when you were away, few as they were, even you could not miss the subtle darkness that loomed over the neighbourhood, and you wouldn't be surprised if that age-old stand-off had finally been broken. Trouble was coming in Small Heath, and it had been due for a very long time.
"Missed it, I s'pose. Only so much nursing you can do before your brain sort of turns to mush."
"Oh I'm sure. Could never stomach the thought of it me'self." her eyes held yours, growing suddenly distant and thoughtful as though struck with a glimpse of some distressing fate, too soon snatched away as you tried to find a meaning in her troubled expression. " 'S a shame, really. We were all so proud of yer. Thought y'might get away for good this time."
You laughed, recalling the memories of that particularly cold and rainy autumn when you had waddled to the station, resplendent in all your six-year-old glory, with a bedsheet of books and a teddy-bear slung over your shoulder and your mother's nice red scarf, and had asked for the next train to London. You had been sent home with an iced bun and a wide smile on your face, your parents and your aunt and uncle and half of the neighbourhood carrying you home on their shoulders and staying round for tea in the church and by the time tea was over you had forgotten why you tried to leave at all. But that was so many millennia ago, and then there was that second time when no one had been able to stop you again, and this time you really could remember why you left. This town was too small, far too cramped to fit around the universe inside of your mind, and there was no where left to go but away.
But your aunt was not smiling anymore. Now you could really see the wrinkles that had etched their deep tracks into her brows, the crows-feet around her eyes but, even more visible and more worrying still, the frown-lines that made you wonder how much you had missed that you would spend the rest of your uneventful life making up for.
"Y'know, I think I thought so too. For a little bit, I mean." you rubbed the back of your neck and turned to catch a thin ray of golden sunlight on your face. "Thought I'd save up a bit of money and my myself a place a long, long way away from here. It's funny - I think I've spent my whole life trying to get away from here and I always end up right where I started. Makes you think, doesn't it, was I really ever gonna do it? It was nice while it lasted, but it was never gonna last. Think I ought to have known, huh." you blinked, and your eyes were dry and loveless now. You thought you could almost see the last scraps of the world you'd left behind, drifting away into the sky upon the smoke that curled in the street. And you were right, you had always known you would be when you sat down and really thought about it and thought to yourself that this had all been very nice, hadn't it, but now it was time to put down those toys and childish feelings and come back to the real world because that's what adults did.
Somewhere in that wasteland of wasted years you knew that you'd grown up, and you pushed away the face that swam into your mind at the thought - blurring softly around the features, a little too big in the eyes, too sharp in the jaw, the skin stretched tight over jutting bones that made him seem too rough, too cruel to be the man you had loved so much in those days when you were trying with all you wee to remember love at all, come little as it may, but unmistakably him, just as those early mornings had been for you and him alone, and all the world could wait a little longer. You were forgetting him, and the thought was the best you'd had in days. No face, no letters, and soon no love at all. Just like it never happened.
When you came to again the sunlight had gone, disappeared into the bleakness of the morning. You caught your aunt's gaze hot on your face again, pitiful and soft, softer than anything you had yet seen in this harsh town in all the day you'd been here now.
"So what now?"
"Would you believe me if I said I had absolutely no idea?" no, of course she wouldn't. You always knew; you always had, all that time when you were a child and you had your book of stories and every one of them a life you couldn't wait to lead, and every page a new adventure you had etched into your mind. And then the war had come along, and the hospital and the bodies and Tommy, and somewhere along the way the book of stories in your mind had given way to every night's new nightmare.
"Then let me help you start." she took your hand in hers, and as she brought it up to her smiling lips you could see the liver-spots on the wasted skin, age playing upon the fingers, tangling at the wrist.
"You don't-"
"Shhh, shut up and let me help you dammit. You ain't going nowhere without a job, that'y'know."
"Perhaps, but I-"
"You're working here."
"I... I am?" you squinted a little in confusion. The bakery was beautiful, you could tell every inch of it from any other on the face of the earth, could map it with your eyes closed as you did so many times in that unfamiliar dormitory in sunny Kent, but even you could not deny that it was tired and so was she. In the corners, the dust was gathering in dark shadows that were darker now that the sun had all but gone away, and if you could run a finger down the corridor walls and trace each line in the bright green paper you knew the cracks would be deep enough to lose your life into.
"You are. 'Least until you find your way back out there."
You could not help but frown at that. You couldn't say you hadn't thought about it just yet because you had, all last night and in every vacant moment since you woke again this morning. It was stuck in your mind like a hot coin, burning a hole into your head as you tried to push it away until later. Where to go, and whether to go at all. These last days had been the worst you'd known in all your life, the coldest and most draining, and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed and never come out again. Of course, that was entirely out of the question, and you had come to the reluctant conclusion that, at least for the time being, you would be staying where you were.
"Thanks."
" 'S the least I could do. We help our own round here, remember."
"Then I guess I'm in your debt, eh? 'Least til I can pay you back."
"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad to have you back. It's," she glanced around the room, at the baskets of bread and the trays of sweets, her eyes stopping on the picture frame on the counter, a faded black-and-white photo of your uncle's smiling face. You wondered if he was smiling still, somewhere in the no man's land of now and forever, where morality and life were a little less black-and-white themselves. "It's what he would have liked. I think."
"I wish I knew." you wished you knew a lot of things that you did not, and you wished you could see a lot of things that you could not either. You wished more than anything that you could do it all again, change a couple of things and see how the story changed for better or for worse. You wished things could be different, be better or just a different kind of bad, anything at all now that you could not live with your truth. The truth you made for yourself and would spend the rest of your life running from because that's what adults did, right?
"I don't think you ever knew just how proud of you he always was. Near broke his heart in two when yer left." You wanted to scream at that, to cry all over again and this time never stop, because this time you knew that you had let another person down for the last time. He was so very proud of you, and right now even you weren't so proud of all these things you'd done. You wondered if he regretted it all now, and new that he would not. That was the beauty of believing in someone - nothing they could do could ever prove you wrong.
"Why can't we just-"
"Because you and I are humans, and that's all we're meant to be, dear. These are the hardest of times, but they are the ones you learn the most from. Some day you'll have hurt enough to realise that hurting isn't all there is to making your mistakes - there's healing too. There's healing every day."
And she pressed into your handles the thick handle of a bread basket, laying into it loaves and loaves of bread, and a handful of sugary pastries that made you smile. The pastries had always been your favourite when you were small, trays and trays of bakewell puddings and banbury cakes and sometimes if you were lucky, coventry godcakes too, carried home in baskets strapped to the front of your bicycle as you tried to keep them from spilling out onto the road but racing home to catch them while they were still warm at the centre from the sunlight through the bakery window.
You could smell them, taste the sugar that rose in a white plume as she clapped her hands together and then rested one on your back. Leading you into the backroom, a little smaller and a little darker than it had been in the photobook of your mind, she pulled out an apron and pressed it to your chest, moving your hands to hold it tight. You didn't even have to look to know whose it was (or rather, whose it had been), and also that she would not let you say no.
"You'll just be on deliveries to begin with, getting to know the neighbourhood and all."
"I did used to live here, y'know!"
"Yeah, it's just that... 's a bit different, and all. Meet some people, have some fun. Maybe it's time you try something new, eh?" she ruffled your hair and you laughed brightly, honestly, ducking away and balancing the basket on your hip.
"Whatever you say," you sighed in mock-defeat, draping your coat over the counter and pulling on the apron in its place. It was too big for you, wide and comically long at the knees, but the fabric was soft and wrinkled and stained with the story of a life you had missed, and you breathed in the smell of bread and his cologne that washed over you like his arms around you once again. It was a good moment.
Resting her hand lightly on you arm and bringing you gently out of your daydream, your aunt held a folded scrap of paper out to you. The names written on it in her tidy hand were familiar, childhood playmates and teachers, neighbours and family friends. Back when the whole town knew each other, when you were all one family. Find the houses, find the people, leave the bread and leave the house like you had been there every day instead of thousands of miles away, living out a fairytale and pretending you were in love.
You shot her a quick smile of thanks, turning away and opening the door and filling your senses with the sound of the street, shot through with the jarring melody of the bells above the door.
"Be careful out there. I love you."
You couldn't remember the last time someone had told you that, save for the lapse in your history that had been him, and it soothed your aching bones and the weight that pulled you down beneath the dirty cobblestones to hear the words you so longed to wrap around you and hide behind forever. She loved you, and the rest of the world could not come close. And, stepping out into the street and closing the paint-peeling door behind you, you turned your face towards Birmingham.
Taglist:
@actorinfluence @captivatedbycillianmurphy @stressedandbandobessed7771
#peaky blinders#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#tommyshelbyxreader#thomasshelbyxreader#fanfiction#readerinsert
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A Force
INVOLVED: Mercedes Evans, Sanaa Evans, and Nicole Reed
TIME FRAME: Friday, January 24, 2020
LOCATION: Evans’ Estate; Los Angeles, California
SUMMARY: Mercedes sends for Nicole to make a record a track she wrote, but things shift in a dark direction.
Mercedes sat in the rollie chair, gently rolling herself back and forth as she went over the melody in her head as she waited for Nicole to arrive so they could get to work. This would be one of the first times that she had invited any of the artists to her home for anything, let alone to record music, so she was sure this was going to be interesting. Especially with the likes of Nicole. She had written this song specifically with Nicole in mind but had been holding off on giving it to the girl simply because she sensed that Nicole wasn’t exactly fond of her. However, she was preparing to go on tour soon and she needed to make sure that all of her artists were still working and getting things done while she was gone. Plus, she couldn’t hold onto the song for forever. She had sent Nicole the track and hoped the girl had worked on it, because if not, it was going to be a long day.
Nicole had been summoned by the Queen of the Damned, and not only did Mrs. Evans summoned her for a song she summoned to their palace. She looked up at the large estate, this is what it looked like to come off on top, huh? Millions, she thought to herself, they sat on millions and even that wasn’t enough as the seemingly stepped on all the small people beneath them working doubly hard to make them look good. She really was starting to hate the Evans, no, no, Mrs. Evans. Mr. Evans happened to be very down to Earth, very laid back, and personable. She’d just have to see how the Queen really acted today, she guessed. She rang the doorbell after having been allowed the permission to drive among their front gates. And she stood, and waited, clutching her Chanel bag in hand.
Kelly rushed to the door quickly, knowing that Mercedes was expecting company over. She had finished cleaning up the house, just 15 minutes ago and was trying to get the children settled when the doorbell rang. Sighing a small huff, she held Sanaa on her hip as she moved for the door, quickly opening it and greeting the guest with a smile. “Hello,” she said politely, wanting to make a good impression on Mercedes artistic friends. “You must be Nicole,” she said as she stepped aside to let the woman in the house. “Come right on inside,” she said before she closed the door behind Nicole. Bouncing Sanaa on her hip, she looked at the child as she smiled at Nicole, clapping her hands happily before she reached out for Nicole to hold her. “Sanaa,” Kelly said softly patting the child’s butt. “Miss Nicole won’t be able to carry you honey, she’s got work to do,” she said trying to explain to the 1-year-old, though her words were falling on deaf ears as Sanaa continued to wiggle and twist in her arms, trying to get Nicole to hold her. Meanwhile, Sebastian stood in the living room in front of the TV watching Black Panther for the 100th time of the day and Sydney was on the couch watching Sebastian and playing random chords on her guitar.
Nicole looked to the woman answering the door and she smiled at her, of course a maid or a nanny would be getting the door. They weren’t personable enough to greet their own guest. She really used to love these people, looks could be deceiving. She nodded at the woman “I am Nicole” she too confirmed to her kindly. She moved inside the house, and damn, was the only thing she could think as she took it in. These people have money, there money, they were sleeping on her damn money. She turned to the girl and the child, and the thought hit her. She’d never breathed the same air as the Evans’ children. As the little girl reached for her, her eyes bulged a bit before she settled her expression. This is the child that barely made it hanging on by a thread, there was no way they;d allow her to touch the golden child. She licked her lipstick painted lips and smiled at the baby “hi” she said cutely plastering a smile. Someone save her, she was in over her damn head.
Kelly bounced Sanaa a little nuzzling the girl’s cheek with her nose. “Say hi, Sanaa,” she instructed and Sanaa scrunched up her little face as she looked at Kelly and she giggled before she turned back to Nicole and cooed out a very precious, “hi,” before she leaned forward even more, almost toppling out of Kelly’s arms as she tried to get Nicole to hold her. “Up,” she said looking Nicole in her eyes.
Nicole smiled at the child again and she looked to her ‘nanny’ before she caved. “Okay” she told the child who was already running her like she was an adult and Nicole was the child. Picking the child up she looked to her “you’re pretty” she told her kindly.
Kelly nodded to Nicole as she looked to her and she handed Sanaa over. Sanaa cooed happily, wrapping her arms around Nicole’s neck, hugging the woman sweetly. “Thank you,” she said sweetly as she laid her head on Nicole’s shoulder. Kelly chuckled gently and said, “you can follow me right this way.” She led the way through the large house giving Nicole a quick tour, as she did with all new guests. “If you get hungry, the kitchen is here,” she said pointing. “The den is over there and the living room there,” she said as they passed each area of the house and as they passed the living room, she said to Sebastian. “Bash you’re too close to the TV. Go sit next to Syd.” Continuing on, she pointed. “Two bathrooms in this hallway,” she told Nicole, looking back at the woman. “If these two are full there are more upstairs,” she explained as she then lead Nicole deeper into the house. Pointing out a few more areas before they came to the in-home studio. “And this is where you’ll probably spend the majority of your stay. The studio, Mercedes is inside,” she told Nicole before she opened the door and stepped in. “Mercedes, Nicole has arrived.”
Mercedes slowly looked up from her phone, turning in her chair to look at Kelly as she spoke. Slowly her eyes moved to Nicole as she held Sanaa and she smiled softly. “I see you’ve met Sanaa,” she said with a chuckle as she sat her phone down and stood up, walking over. She placed her hand on Sanaa’s back and said to Nicole, “she’s so friendly, she likes meeting new people.” Sanaa giggled softly, nuzzling herself against Nicole. “Okay, Sanaa, mommy and Nicole have to work,” she said softly to the child who lifted in Nicole’s arms and pouted her lip. Mercedes heart cracked open in her chest as she slowly took Sanaa from Nicole’s arms and she kissed her baby girl’s cheek. “Okay, you can stay,” she said as she cradled her girl before she finally looked to Nicole and said, “sorry, hi.” Mercedes hair was curly wrapped in a messy bun atop her head and she sported a worn t-shirt and sweatpants with slippers on her feet and absolutely no make-up on her face. “Glad you could make it,” she said to Nicole before she turned to Kelly. “You’re free to… whatever,” she said chuckling at Kelly with a shrug of her shoulders. She honestly didn’t know what that girl did most of the day when she wasn’t cleaning the house. Since the kids were a bit older, she didn’t have to tend to them quite as often.
Nicole followed behind the girl walking through the house, the little girl was small, but she was a heavy thing. She looked like a mixture of them both as she looked over again as she held her on her hip. Looking back to the girl as she spoke, she nodded her head again at her as they arrived at the in-home studio and she peered in as the girl spoke to Mercedes directly. Nicole walked inside and she looked Mercedes over, nowhere near a Queen she looked at the moment. She pictured a cashmere sweater and some name brand jeans she had never heard of but what she got was very much so not that. Licking her lips, she watched as mother and child interacted and she raised her brows. When she took the child from her, she finally breathed out after having held it for a while. “Hi” she offered back to Mercedes trying to place her thoughts and emotions aside.
Mercedes smiled at Nicole as she waved for the woman to sit down. “You can get comfortable,” she told the woman as she moved to sit back down, with Sanaa in her lap. She held the girl close, spinning around in the chair a few times, letting Sanaa giggle and coo happily before she stopped, not wanting for the girl to get sick. Looking up at Nicole, Mercedes chuckled. “Sorry,” she said easily before she placed her hand on Sanaa stomach, keeping the girl steady. “How are you?” she asked Nicole as she picked her phone up and handed it to Sanaa for her to play with.
Nicole moved to sit down as she was told, and she sat her purse aside as she tried to make herself comfortable. She watched the mother and child for second before she came to the conclusion that yes, she loved her children, no doubt. Resting her hands in her lap she looked to them both and then to Mercedes again “oh” she started shrugged “I am fine” she said, not really knowing what else to say. It wasn’t much more for her to say, life was, touch and go.
As Nicole was short and sweet with her, Mercedes nodded slowly. She knew that she wasn’t wrong in her assumption that the girl didn’t like her. She just didn’t understand why but maybe it wasn’t meant for her to understand. Pushing it to the back of her mind, Mercedes moved on to business since Nicole didn’t seem to want to talk. “Did you listen to the sample?” she asked, shifting Sanaa in her lap as the girl wiggled and shifted, playing with the phone. Sanaa slid from Mercedes lap, walking around the large studio as she tapped and the screen repeatedly, doing random things here and there.
Nicole looked to Mercedes, her eyes moving up and down the woman before she nodded. “Yeah I did actually” she told her with a head nod “is Sam going to be producing this?” she asked her curiously. She watched the little girl out of the corner of her eye as she walked around the large studio tapping on Mercedes phone.
Smiling softly, Mercedes was grateful that Nicole had at least listened to the song. “I wrote it with you in mind specifically,” she told Nicole. “Joshua came in and recorded the male voice for me, but I wrote the song for you,” she explained before she nodded. “Yes, Sam and I actually produced the track together, but he’ll do all the editing and mixing of the song once it’s ready,” she told the girl. Sanaa began to babble to herself as she came across her favorite game on Mercedes phone and began to play it as she leaned against the couch, her little butt tooted out towards Mercedes and Nicole.
Nicole listened to Mercedes, she didn’t believe her and even if it were true who cared. She wasn’t going on tour and that’s all she wanted right now. “Thanks” she offered assuming she was supposed to reply to the woman in some fashion. “Okay” she nodded her head at her words, she only really like Sam’s work. It had nothing to do with her being signed to him, the man really was genius. “That’s good to hear…”
Nicole was being so short with her, it kind of made Mercedes feel some type of way but she also just pushed it aside. Nodding slowly, she looked over at Sanaa before back at Nicole and she said, “well…” pointing towards the booth. She guessed if Nicole was going to be short with her, then she needed to be all business. “You can go on in,” she said to Nicole as Mercedes looked at Sanaa once more before she turned to the soundboard, tweaking knobs and getting things ready for Nicole.
Nicole licked her lips and she nodded moving to stand up and she walked towards the booth walking in. She stood before the microphone and she grabbed the headphones placing them over her ears gently. She guessed she had to bring her A game or surely Mercedes claws would finally show. “Ready?” she asked woman quietly.
Mercedes flipped a switch so that she would be able to hear Nicole out in the area she was sitting in before she pushed two levers up slightly and one down, adjusting the sound some not wanting it to be too loud due to Sanaa being in the room. At the question, Mercedes looked up from the board, through the glass, peering at Nicole and she said, “ready whenever you are.” She rolled over slightly, pushing a few buttons before she counted down to Nicole to prepare. “3…. 2....” she trailed off as she pressed a button and the music began to fill the room. As the music began to play Sanaa slowly turned from where she had been leaning against the couch, her eyes growing wide as she listened to the music.
Nicole looked to Mercedes and she casually stuck her hands into her jean pockets, in her honest opinion she didn’t need the lyrics as a reference. She’d been in the industry a while; something just came naturally. Like remembering lyrics in their entirety. As Mercedes counted down, she stared at nothing in particular as she listened to the music as Joshua’s voice sung out, lucky him, his young ass was on the damn tour she thought to herself her eyes rolling on their own accord. As his voice mellowed out, she sung “like the Persian rug on a bedroom floor” she sung out, tone deeper than normal “you lie, you lie” she said into the microphone. “Like the ingredients they put in all them shakes from the corner store” she sung out as she shifted on her feet. “You lie, you lie…”
Gazing at Nicole through the glass, Mercedes bobbed her head slowly to the melody. Joshua’s voice fit the track so perfectly. He really articulated the vibe that she was going for. As Nicole began to sing, Mercedes was slightly shocked at how low her tone was. Mercedes sung pretty low on the sample, but she wasn’t quite sure if Nicole had the chops to replicate the vision but apparently, she did. Listening to the girl sing, Mercedes wheeled over to another part of the soundboard and adjusted a few knobs here and there. Overall, Nicole sounded good, which is exactly what she liked. Sanaa began bouncing as Nicole sung out and she clapped her hands happily, still holding Mercedes phone in her tiny grip.
“And the truth is that I want to trust you” Nicole sung into the microphone, pushing some hair off her shoulder. “But the truth is I don’t know why I do” she added looking towards Sanaa before she looked away. “If I saw purple, you would tell me it’s blue” she sung angelically “cause you lie, you lie” she recited placing her hand over one of the earphones. “If there was fire, you’d call it rain. If there was thunder, you’d say its shots from fighter planes” she breathed “you put on your finest shoes just to run off with the truth, wish I knew why” she inhaled “you lie” she sung. “You call them roses; I call them thorns. You say we’re brand new, I say we’re torn” she sung out. “Cause you see conflict where there’s proof, you got everything to lose. But it’s black and white, you lie” she breathed. “Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie. Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie” she repeated into the microphone.
Mercedes looked back at Sanaa, chuckling softly at the little girl as she bounced and clapped to Nicole’s singing. She clearly thought it sounded good. Looking back at Nicole, Mercedes nodded to the melody and as Nicole wrapped a line, Mercedes cut the music and pressed a button as she spoke. “Sound’s good but,” she began shifting slightly. “Just a few lines in there,” she said, “I need you to tweak them just a bit,” she told the girl before she sang, “and the truth is that I want to trust you,” she said, adding a little extra finesse and tone to want. “If there was thunder,” Mercedes sang, dragging her vowels slightly. “Just try those parts one more time for me,” she said to Nicole with a smile as she rolled the track back slightly.
As Mercedes stopped the track, Nicole looked to the woman and she exhaled softly. When she injected a but, in her sentence, Nicole raised a brow at her. As she emphasized the lyrics in the part, she felt Nicole lacked, the woman shifted on her feet again. So, this is it, the part where Nicole bent to her will and just did as she said with no protest. Or is this the part where she showed the woman, she stood on her own two feet and carried herself without the help of someone else. She blinked a few times as she looked down at the lyrics in front of her, she had no clue how the woman wrote the song with her in mind. It seemed like a damn pity track to her, but here she was, she wasted this much time now. She had to do what she had to do.
Taking the track back to where she needed it, Mercedes looked at Nicole and nodded to her before she played the track over, layering what Nicole had just recorded over the music, merging it with Joshua’s vocal’s as well. If she could to those lines just right, the sound would be perfect. Yes, she had written the song about herself and Samuel and their tribulations, but she knew that she couldn’t sing it. It just wouldn’t sound quite right. Nicole had the perfect tone and lightness in her voice to fit the song like a glove and honestly, she knew the woman would knock it out of the park.
Nicole sighed softly to herself, at this point she preferred Samuel’s way of doing things. As the woman took the track back Nicole placed her hand over the headphone once more. “Like the Persian rug on a bedroom floor. You lie, you lie” she sung out lowly once more. “Like the ingredients they put in all them shakes from the corner store. You lie, you lie” she sung out low, her voice raising gently towards the end. “And the truth is that I want to trust you,” she repeated putting emphasizes on want like she was asked to do. “But the truth is I don’t know why I do. If I saw I purple, you would tell me it’s blue. Cause you lie, you lie” she breathed into the microphone. “If there was fire, you’d call it rain” she emphasized. “If there was thunder, you’d say it’s shots from fighter planes. You put on your finest shoes just to run off with the truth. Wish I knew why you lie” she sung out dropping her hand back into her pocket. “You call them roses; I call them thorns. You say we’re brand new, I say we’re torn. Cause you see conflict where there’s proof. You got everything to lose. But it’s black and white, you lie. Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie. Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie” she sung out before she drew back from the mic taking her headphones off. “There? Is that it?” she asked her.
Mercedes watched Nicole as she did it again, hitting each mark perfectly and she nodded slowly, a small smile on her face as she slowly turned her eyes to Sanaa as the girl trotted over to the glass door, watching Nicole through it, her big brown eyes sparkling. Slowly Mercedes looked back at Nicole and as she finished, she stopped the track nodding. “Yeah, that’s perfect,” she said coolly, feeling some sting from Nicole’s questions. She honestly didn’t understand why the girl didn’t like her. “Sounds great, would you like to hear it back?” she asked Nicole curiously as she stood up and moved to Sanaa, scooping the child up in her arms so that she wouldn’t be in the way when Nicole moved to come out of the booth, Sanaa giggling like mad as Mercedes held her.
“No, I think I am okay” Nicole said to her, she trusted her own vocals she hardly needed any validation or need to second guess herself. She really wasn't sold on the song herself, so right now she was just doing a job that needed to be done.
“Okay…” Mercedes said nodding before she looked down at Sanaa in her arms and she shifted on her feet before she moved to sit down on the couch. “Well, I guess when Samuel gets home I’ll have him listen and edit it up. You’ll get the final say on if it gets released or not,” she explained gently adjusting Sanaa’s shirt around her little chunky body. “You can come on out,” she added to Nicole as she got comfortable on the couch.
Nicole nodded her head sitting the headphones down, she walked out the booth and moved to sit back down near her purse. “Okay” she told the woman again simply.
Mercedes watched Nicole as she came from the booth and sat down and she shifted with Sanaa once more, her hand held Sanaa by her stomach as she resumed playing with the phone now that the music was off. “What’s your problem with me?” She asked earnestly, genuinely wanting to know.
Nicole rested her hands in her lap, at Mercedes questioned she turned to her somewhat taken aback. She didn’t really know how to respond to that at first before she said “huh?” to her.
“Why don’t you like me?” Mercedes asked rephrasing the question as she gazed at Nicole with soft eyes. Mercedes knew that a lot of the artists on the label kept their distance from her because for a whole year, she kept her distance from them but slowly some people were starting to warm up and get to know her but not Nicole and Mercedes really just needed to know why.
“I have no issues with you Mercedes” Nicole said back to her, as she looked off. “The better question is, why couldn’t I go on tour?” she asked her.
Mercedes nodding slowly at Nicole’s lie of an answer and she was going to speak something else before Nicole asked her question and Mercedes looked Nicole in her eyes. “Speaking honestly, you don’t have any music out at the moment, or have I heard you to be working on anything in the last several months. Also, you don’t really have a fanbase right now because you haven’t put anything out,” Mercedes said to the woman truthfully. “Taking Natalie, Rose and Jamie, and J. Scott is just strategically the best move. People love them. They have great singles and music videos out and they’re really finding their groove with the label. I only had space for so many people and unfortunately you simply didn’t make the cut. Joshua is going by default because he’s not my pick, but he has music with Natalie out… so…” she shrugged slightly. “It’s just the best plan…” she told her. “Is that why you don’t like me?” she asked now. “I know you weren’t fond of me before but is that what pushed it over the edge?”
“We all take breaks” Nicole said to the woman as she looked away from her. “Well has it never dawned on you that we are a reflection of you,” she asked her. “You sit down to long maybe we will follow suit...” she said agitatedly. Shrugging her shoulders, she let the woman finish and her eyes moved from the wall to the floor before she sighed heavily. “Sure” she said to her easily “I thought part of your owning me meant you put some type of time and energy into me as well? No? Is that just a Sam thing?” she asked leaning in slightly squinting her eyes. “I wasn’t motivated, wasn’t driven… didn’t have anyone chanting me on or believing in me” she told her. “I used to have a purpose on the label, not it just seems like every man is for themselves and those of us who are a git modest, a bit straight, are just left out hanging to dry” she spoke up.
Mercedes was taken aback by the woman’s words, so much so that her neck jerked, causing Sanaa to look up at her wildly, at the sudden movement. She blinked slowly at Nicole, letting her get what she had to say out. The woman didn’t even have the courage to look her in her eyes as she said her peace. She clearly wasn’t woman enough as she was bold. When the woman finally looked at her, squinting as she spoke, Mercedes’ tongue rolled over her lips slowly and she shifted Sanaa slightly, holding the girl closer to her own body. She nodded slowly, just gazing at Nicole. She honestly didn’t know what to say to the woman, but the words just spilled out. “I lost a child…” she began, gazing Nicole dead in her eyes. “My son, Sanaa’s brother, was born of my own flesh and he died right before my eyes in Samuel’s arms…” she said getting a little choked up, “so I do believe I had the right to take some time off,” she said blinking tears from her eyes. “Was it fair to all of you? Absolutely not, but do you think I give a damn?” she asked Nicole, still staring at her hard. “I took the time that I needed to cope because if I wasn’t right for myself, how could I possibly be right or a help to anyone else?” she asked Nicole. Finally, she turned her eyes away from the woman, looking down at Sanaa in her lap as she stroked the girl’s soft hair. “I did what I had to do so that I could be a good mother for my children in the end. Before I am an artist, before I am a mentor, before I am even a wife, I am a mother…” she said blinking harder, pushing her tears away before she looked up at Nicole. “Do you have kids?” she asked the woman. “Natalie, Rose and Jamie, and J. Scott work their asses off rather someone is over their shoulder helping them or not. They have passion, they have vision, they know what they want out of this life and this career and they went out and got it, rather Sam and I were there or not. Don’t think Sam helped them. He didn’t. They did it on their own. We’re just steppingstones. You’ve got to want it for yourself because if you don’t there’s absolutely nothing, we can do for you. You can be the best singer on this damn label, but what good does that do if you’re sitting in the back waiting for a handout?” she asked Nicole. “I get going through a slump, trust me I do, clearly, but don’t let use Sam or I not being around as an excuse,” she told her. “Don’t forget, there are several other artists not going on tour, but I assure you, seeing the artist coming with me on that stage is going to ignite a fire under their asses.” Mercedes looked at Nicole and said, “You need some lighter fluid?”
“I understand that, and I feel very sorry for the both of you I couldn’t imagine the pain that you must fill everyday knowing that fact Mercedes” Nicole said back to her. “I’ve watched Samuel build people up from nothing and don’t make it seem like his hands aren’t in everything that we do because it IS!” she said back to the woman. “Nothing move until he says it does, isn’t it the same for you?” she asked her as if Mercedes was stupid, had she indeed forgotten who her own damn husband was. She licking her lips exhaling slowly, a chuckle leaving her lips “I was one of the very damn first, let’s not start with highs and lows. I took a chance on two people who at the time only notable work at the time was a damn sex tape audio to manage my career and take it off the grounds and you think I am should be what, bowing to some skinny bitches feet you chose to go on tour with. Who signed to you once what, your husband made you all billionaires?” she asked her cocked her head to the side. “I don’t need any of their ass shaking and transformations to fucking uplift me, you and I come from the same fucking place girl. I will uplift my fucking self” she told her. “So, if you’d like me to put out work, and prove to you and this humongous house who should have fucking gone on tour. It’ll be my pleasure” she said as she grabbed her purse standing up.
Mercedes listened to Nicole as she called herself going in on her and she nodded slowly, taking it all in as the girl got an attitude and chuckled to herself. Mercedes blinked slowly. In the entire time Mercedes had spoken, she hadn’t had a single attitude. So, she honestly didn’t get why the girl was so riled up or upset but it was fine, she guessed. Obviously, the woman had a problem with her for some unknown reason and it just was what it was. When Nicole began to speak about her husband and her past discretions, her eyebrows arched slightly. Did Nicole like her husband? That’s what it seemed like as she sat their pumping him up and defending his honor? It was laughable. This woman was older than her by a few years and she was acting like a teenager. It was shameful and sad. Is this how she used to act with Samuel, she wondered. As the woman stood up, ready to go after saying her rant, Mercedes stood with her, hoisting Sanaa onto her hip. “Actually, no, I don’t jump at my husband’s beck and call,” she told Nicole easily. “You were one of the first and you’ve sat for two years and have done absolutely nothing with the resources and money we’ve given you,” she said in a light tone, “well nothing that we can see anyway,” she said shrugging slightly with Sanaa on her hip. “Sam and I sure did have an audio tape come out,” she said looking up at the ceiling with a chuckle. “I forgot all about that it was so long ago now,” she admitted before she looked back to Nicole. “It was a drop in the ocean,” she said with a hum as she smiled. Deciding to jump over the part about her husband making her billions because that was just laughable. She had money before she ever went back to Lima and rekindled her relationship with Samuel. She had so much money before Samuel came back into her life that, all those years ago, if she chose to give it up, she could have lived comfortably for the rest of her life. So, she truly had no idea what the woman was talking about, but it was fine. With a small sigh, Mercedes bounced Sanaa on her hip. “Oh, that won’t be a problem,” she said, shaking her head. “You no longer have a label to work with, so no real need for you to break a sweat,” Mercedes told the woman as she walked towards the door and opened it. “Kelly,” she called out to the younger woman, down the hallway, “could you show Nicole out for me? We’re done here…” she said before she looked back to Nicole and she bounced Sanaa once more. “Say bye Sanaa,” she said, and Sanaa smiled at Nicole, waving goodbye to the woman.
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03/13/2020 DAB Transcript
Numbers 19:1-20:29, Luke 1:1-25, Psalms 56:1-13, Proverbs 11:8
Today is the 13th day of March, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian it’s great to be here. It's great to be here with you today as we prepare to reach the conclusion of another one of our weeks together and draw our workweek to a close. And even as we do that, we’re going to be entering a new book today, the gospel of Luke when we get to the New Testament and we’ll talk about that when we get there, but first let's continue our journey through the book of Numbers. We’re reading from the Contemporary English Version this week. And today, Numbers 19 and 20.
Introduction to the book of Luke:
Okay. So, this brings us to the gospel of Luke. And Luke is a little bit more of an intriguing gospel. It's the third of the synoptic Gospels. And as we talked about as we encountered the other two Gospels, the synoptic Gospels are called that because they're very similar in the way they’re composed and they definitely share some of the same stories, even some of the same phrases, very similar in the way that their laid out, so similar that it…it's widely believed by scholars that one couldn't exist without the other. And even though they were written at different times and by two different people, they were…well…especially Mark was used as source material for the others. And we’ll enjoy the gospel of Luke tremendously because it’s the tightest, most concise of the Gospels. It's written well. It flows well and it’s a narrative style. Abd we’ll get used to this flow because we’ll see it again because Luke didn't only write the gospel of Luke, he also wrote the book of Acts that we’ll come to after we finish the Gospels. Now, we’ve read Matthew and Mark. We’re now gonna read Luke and we’ll encounter some of the same stories from a bit of a different perspective because the Gospels have a different perspective and a purpose. So, for example, when we read the Gospel of Matthew when we started our year together, and in Matthew we noticed Jesus was fulfilling prophecies. Like that was the point. This was done because it fulfilled this prophecy. And, so, Jesus is fulfilling all these prophecies letting us know that this is a narrative established to speak to Hebrew people. Luke will take us through these stories again that we’re familiar…that we’re familiar with, but Luke is written to a Gentile audience. And, so, it's revealing that the gospel is inclusive, is not a Hebrew only religion. It includes the whole world and welcomes all who believe into the family. And, so, with that in mind we begin the third gospel. Luke chapter 1 verses 1 to 25.
Commentary:
Okay, so it may not have seemed like it as we were reading through our…our reading from Numbers today but some pretty monumental shifts happened today in the Old Testament. So, let’s just look at those so…so we have context for where were going. The children of Israel have moved out. They've been disqualified from moving into the Promise Land. They’ve been turned back into the desert to wander until the whole first generation, the people who came out of Egypt dies leaving basically the conquest of the Promise Land to the second-generation, to the children who were supposed to grow up free in the land of promise. They’re gonna have to do what their parents didn't. And that's a pretty big deal. That's why there's a lot of this review going on about the laws. And one thing that we should gather is that God is expecting precision. He is expecting ultimate obedience here. They are in the wilderness where utter dependence upon God is being made more and more apparent to them and their complaining about it every time their faith gets stretched. And that sounds so familiar. Nevertheless, there out in the wilderness, and they need to get somewhere. And to get somewhere the best way that they can go that they're being led is through the land of Edom, but the Edomites are like, “absolutely not.” And we could…we could understand why they would have concerns. “Like a million people are going to come on this main road and walk through and they're gonna pay for their water and can do anything. Like that just doesn't quite add up. So, you can understand why they would have some pushback but the important piece about this is what Moses said, “we are family.” And that is true. The Hebrew people were the descendants of Jacob, the Edomites were the descendants of Esau - Jacob and Esau. And if we’ll remember the misdirection and trickery of Jacob that was visited on Esau., well we can sort of see that the family rift is centuries old and the Edomites won't let them pass. That's a mistake on the part of the Edomites and there are other things along the way that they do, and an entire book of minor prophecy will be devoted to the Edomites once we get near the end of our year together. But this is important. They turned to their family to get where they needed to go, and they were rejected. And, so, there's no water. The people are grumbling and complaining to Moses again, “we would've been better off if he died before the tent of meeting than to die of thirst out here in the desert. We would've been better off in Egypt.” And this becoming a recurring theme. “We’re in the wilderness going toward the Promise Land, but slavery was better. Let's go back to slavery again.” Sounds so familiar because we walk in these footsteps so often. God tells Moses to go out to a rock and command it to give water. He gathers the people together and gets his walking stick as God had told him to do and then he basically yells at the people, “you rebels. You, rebellious people.” Right? “You stiff necked people. Do we have to bring water out of this rock?” And then Moses hits the rock twice and water comes out, but that's not what God told Moses to do. He told Moses to go speak to the rock. He didn't tell him to yell at the people and ask them if he had to bring water out of the rock for them, and what a nuisance and all this, and show anger and strike the rock. So, God gave them the water that they needed to survive. Unfortunately, the anger and rebelliousness in Moses heart disqualified him from leading the people into the Promise Land. That will also be left for the next generation. And after that Moses and Aaron and his son Eliezer climbed Mount Hor. Eliezer was installed as the high priest and Aaron passed from the story. One interesting thing, one thing that was pointed out to me when I was much, much younger, that I’ve always held onto because the exclusion of Moses from leading the people into the Promise Land seems pretty…pretty harsh. Like he didn't get to go. Like he got to lead them, but he didn't get to go. But we do find Moses in the Promise Land. We find him along with Jesus at His transfiguration speaking to Jesus in the Promise Land.
And speaking of Jesus, we’re just…just getting going in the gospel of Luke. And, so, what’s being set up here is the story of Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth who were very old but were foretold that they would be having a child in their old age. And, of course, there’s some clear parallels here with Abraham and Sarah. And Zechariah was told as a priest of God in the temple offering incense before the Lord, he was told by an angelic visitation that he would have a son, that his son would be named John, that he would be a prophetic voice that would prepare the way of the Lord. And this prophetic voice would be really the first prophet in 400 years, the time that passes between the Old and New Testaments. So, we can often think that John shows up out of the wilderness wearing camel's hair and eating grasshoppers, and that's true, that's what the Bible says but he got there somehow. He's the son of a priest, a vision and angelic vision happened in the temple. And when John emerged from the temple. He couldn't speak. This wouldn’t go unnoticed until somebody just shows up out of the wilderness with a message of repentance. There would've been a lot of wondering about who this child might be, and we’ll pick up with that story tomorrow.
Prayer:
Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for its beauty in the way that it can touch so many parts of our lives, that it can touch us on so many levels and cause us to ponder and contemplate our own lives and our own path. And, so, we are so grateful for this and we are so grateful for one another. We are so grateful that we can do this together in community. So, come Holy Spirit and plant the words from the Scriptures into the soil of our lives today. And may they grow and yield fruit for Your kingdom. We ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen.
Announcements:
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The Daily Audio Bible Shop is there, resources are there. I guess one thing I haven’t talked about in a long time is coffee. Coffee…coffee and tea are part of my daily life and have been for I guess as long as I've been an adult. So, a long time. And we've been involved in coffee and tea for well over a decade. We have our own brand, roast our own coffee in Colorado, source our own tea. And you can have it delivered to you each month or you can just choose what you like, and have it sent to you. That all is in an effort to…well…to offer resources that we’re kinda gonna consume anyway. Usually like we’re gonna have a cup of coffee of some sort…maybe we’re gonna pay a premium for it. And we just started thinking, “you know, we’re lovers of these things, we consume these things. What if…what if we could create a superior product, fresher product, get it to people fresher and kinda like use the old monastic way of making things to support the monastery. You know, like maybe we could have a few of these things that were just gonna help out a little bit.” And, so, that’s kinda we’re coffee came from and it’s become a part of the fabric of the Global Campfire. Coffee and the Bible pair well together. So, just I mean, it's a relaxing kind of ritual to enjoy waking up, waking up spiritually, waking up physically, or winding down for that matter. So, those resources are available in the Daily Audio Bible Shop. Just look for coffee and tea. And you can have it sent each month. Oh…and we also have…we went in search of this…it was for a long time coming too. “What…what kind of a more instant…instantly available coffee could we provide?” Like we were kind of like, “could you do the K-Cup thing?” And we looked at that and we looked at how old that coffee is and how long and it's got a sit and how much of it you gotta make so that there’s no way it's gonna be fresh. But we did find a way of steeping coffee. It's like basically a coffee filter that you would pour your coffee through like in your coffee drip maker wrapped around coffee. You just steep it like tea. And, so, that its nitro sealed to push oxygen out, so it doesn't oxidize or doesn't break down and deteriorate and keeps…keeps well. And, so, those are great. Keep those with me wherever I go because a lot of times…a lot of times I find myself staying in hotels and that's not the greatest option for coffee. So, these are available just to kind of have at the office and such. And you'll find those in the Shop as well in the coffee and tea section. So, check those things out.
If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com. There's a link that lives on the homepage and I thank you for your partnership. If what we’re doing around this Global Campfire brings warmth and light into your life, then throw a log on from time to time. Thank you for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.
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And that is it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.
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{Collection} Double Trouble #1
“So, where are you from?”
A pause.
“Oh god if that’s dumb please don’t feel you have to answer--”
“That’s quite all right, my dear. But is it so obvious I’m not from New Senzannini?”
Across the dimly lit table, Monica regarded her date with curious, if not a little shy, green eyes. Jordan Wade was tall, incredibly well-built--even through his dark sweater she could see the sharp cut of his muscles, could tell the way his sleeves had been tailored to accommodate a body honed by war. His hair was surprisingly long but looked well-kept and deliciously thick, so much so Monica found herself wanting to run her fingers through it. Jordan’s features were rugged, his dark eyes holding a million secrets and the fullness of his beard should have been off-putting--Monica didn’t necessarily think herself too fond of beards but it suited him, in it’s own way. It was trimmed just so, immaculate like the rest of this military man, as if he took immense pride in his appearance even if he wasn’t a pretty boy--and he wasn’t. He was a man’s man, all hard, defined muscle and hands so rough she could hear the callouses catch the table cloth every time he moved. It made her want to bite at her full, beauifully painted lower lip with the idea of how those hands might feel against her skin.
Oddly enough, the most intriguing thing about Jordan was his voice. Monica had never met Jordan before this blind date, but if she had to be honest...it didn’t seem to suit him. There was a strange timbre to it, a mocking arrogance that didn’t match the soulful wisdom in Jordan’s hawk-eyed gaze. He seemed like he would speak softly, have a voice deep like the rumble of a dormant volcano but this voice was more like lightning, like fire in the way it raced across the table straight for her, searing her with it’s intensity. Monica couldn’t explain why she felt Jordan’s voice didn’t match; his mouth was moving, sound was coming out, that had to be his voice didn’t it? But every time he spoke, she felt as if she were speaking to another person. A person who was very different than Jordan Wade.
“Monica?”
She blinked, snapped out of her thoughts by that macabre voice saying her name--there was black magic in that velvet rasp, like the tongue of a jungle cat against her throat, right before the teeth sank deep.
“I-I’m so sorry, um,” Monica cleared her throat a few times, offering Jordan a nervous smile but she couldn’t meet his gaze when he smiled in return. It was a small smile, a secret one, and Monica had the distinct impression he didn’t smile often. “I didn’t mean you l-look like a tourist or anything. But your accent...”
In direct contrast to the slight frown pulling on Jordan’s weathered face, his voice sounded delighted. “Do you like my voice, Monica dear?”
Monica was grateful she couldn’t blush, swallowing thickly all the same. Rather than answer, she reached for her wine glass, watching Jordan watch her with an unreadable emotion in those stormy eyes. It made her manicured nails clink against the crystal, nerves pricking at her like thorns, fanning the flames of attraction that had been growing between herself and Jordan all evening.
Oh, there was definitely attraction. Monica always fancied herself someone who liked pretty things--pretty clothes, pretty jewelry, pretty people--but there was something about Jordan that drew her in. She’d been the one to turn the heads when they’d entered the restaurant together, but she’d noticed no one seemed to notice Jordan at all and that intrigued her. How did a man so obviously in control, so capable, so tall and intimidating, manage to blend in so well? It was like he was invisible, an unseen predator in the tall grass. He was seated with his back straight, long, rough fingers curled around his fork as he lifted a bite to his mouth and though he appeared relaxed, Monica could tell he wasn’t. He was on alert, his posture protective--of her, as anytime anyone so much as looked at her he was glaring them right back around in their seats, his gaze hard enough to crack glass. Jordan went from invisible to a solid brick wall of intimidation with the flick of a switch and it was that edge that Monica found herself attracted to. Yes, his voice was...undeniably attractive, wicked as it sounded--she could hardly imagine what he’d sound like against the shell of her ear--but it was during these comfortable silences, when Jordan and her locked eyes and shared an intimacy that was so long forgotten in this world of extroverts. She and Jordan were exchanging sweet nothings without saying a word; it was in the way his gaze lingered on her cheek, so that she could nearly feel his lips there. It was in the way his lips twisted up ever so slightly, as if he couldn’t help himself from smiling when she looked at him. Little things that meant so very much, most especially on a first date.
“Oh please. You and I could have so much more meaningful exchanges, dearest, and I can actually fucking talk.”
It took Monica a moment to realize that entire sentence had come out of Jordan’s mouth but he hadn’t moved a muscle. In fact, he seemed just as surprised as she was.
“...W...W-What did you say?”
Jordan opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and after a moment his teeth clicked together audibly. He didn’t say anything for several moments--in fact, he seemed to be having some sort of internal dialogue, before his “voice” rang out--again, without his lips moving.
“You are most certainly not entitled to a thing, I’m just as much on this date as you are, brother. And if you won’t share...”
Just as Jordan’s “voice” trailed off, a figure materialized next to Monica’s chair, out of thin air. Nearly as tall as Jordan, this man had a severe widow’s peak that lent to his maniacal grin appearing all the more sinister as he all but leered down at Monica, his head inclining as he spoke with intent dripping off that honeyed baritone.
“I’ll just invite myself to the table.”
Jordan’s “voice” wasn’t his voice at all. It belonged to whoever this was, and whoever this was had succeeded in not only startling her, but also sending the rest of the restaurant into pandemonium. People shouted in surprise, leaping back and away from the literal fucking ghost manifesting in the center of the upscale restaurant. In scant minutes the room was cleared out, but when Monica finally found her flight instincts, Jordan reached out to catch her hand.
❝ Please don’t go. ❞
“Yes, stay with us, dearest. You were having such a nice time before.” The ghost was apparently every bit as telepathic as Jordan, something that only startled Monica further as she looked between Jordan and--
“W-Who the fuck are you?!”
“Paxton, my dear. My name is Paxton. I’m Jordan’s better half--or I was, until you came along.” Paxton introduced himself without taking his eyes off Monica, and it seemed telekinesis came just as effortlessly as telepathy, as a chair pulled itself out from another table and slid beneath Paxton as he sat down at the table. He gave Monica a smile that was half-charm, half-sadism. “It seems you’re going to be both our better halves, now.”
❝ I’m sorry about him. ❞
“Don’t apologize for me.” Paxton snapped, his charm gone the moment Jordan seemed to slight him. “I wanted to date her together, you’re the one who thought it would be better this way.”
Jordan gave Paxton a heated glare, before he turned back to Monica.
❝ He’s my younger brother. ❞
Monica’s throat worked desperately, looking between the siblings. “I-Is...I-Is he--?”
“Dead?” Paxton’s cackle was the sound of nightmares. “Oh I am very much dead, sweet girl, but don’t worry your pretty little head. That will only make things more interesting, I promise.”
Jordan’s fingers tightened over Monica’s when she moved to stand, again. When she turned to look at him, there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there, before, and she realized for the first time that without Paxton sharing Jordan’s body, she was seeing him--and there was raw need in the depths of those stormy eyes.
❝ Please. ❞
“You’ll have to forgive Jordan, he’s mute.” Paxton rested his elbows on the table, giving Monica that same leering grin. He was searing her straight through with those devil’s eyes, as if he could see her every thought laid bare. “That’s why I had to talk for him. Otherwise you’d be stuck reading his stupid index cards all evening.”
❝ I’m telepathic, asshole. ❞
Monica could help it, the way Jordan bit that out at Paxton had all the writings of an older sibling dealing with a bratty younger one and it made her laugh. The sound of her laughter slid between the brothers like angel wings and they both turned to face her, again, enraptured by the sound.
“My god, Jordan, we’ve really outdone ourselves. Listen to her.”
❝ ...Again, I’m really sorry about him. ❞
Paxton whipped his head toward Jordan, again, but Monica surprised the mute soldier by giving his hand a squeeze with another breathless, beautiful laugh.
“T-That’s okay. I think between the two of us, we...we can handle him.”
Jordan’s face absolutely lit up, and the sight had Paxton rolling his eyes, all but pouting in a little brother’s show of jealousy.
“For fuck’s sake, if I had known I was going to have to share her affections with you I should have just been cremated.”
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Xenoblade Chronicles X (Wii U)
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Xenoblade Chronicles X, released by Monolith Soft “X”-clusively for the Wii U in 2015, takes place on an alien planet named Mira, where the last remnants of humanity have crash landed after Earth was decimated by a mysterious alien force known as the Ganglion. The human survivors live on in the form of “mimeosomes”, which are enhanced cyberorganic duplicates, which are being controlled remotely by their real bodies while in stasis in a massive vault known as the Lifehold.
You play as a freshly revived from stasis new recruit in an organization known as BLADE, whose mission statement, besides gathering resources and fending off hostile creatures for the residents of the fledgling city of New Los Angeles, is to find the Lifehold, which was lost during the crash landing, before it runs out of power, killing the rest of humankind in the process. The only problems is that BLADE is in a race to find the Lifehold against their old pals, the Ganglion, who are committed to finishing the extermination they started.
I normally don’t go into so much detail about a video game story, but goddamn if this one didn’t capture my imagination like no other video game in awhile, especially a J-RPG, with all of their tired tropes. In fact, while I greatly enjoyed the first game, Xenoblade Chronicles, I found the story to be disappointingly banal, especially from a studio like Monolith, who are known for complex plots since the days of ye olde PlayStation with Xenogears (when the creative team was working under Squaresoft). I love the idea of humans rebuilding civilization, with their main hub of New Los Angeles having the familiar California architecture juxtaposed against a strange, alien landscape. I love the idea of these people being trapped in cyber-organic bodies, which if killed, would merely trap their consciousness back in their real bodies in stasis. What a mind trip it would be for someone close to you to die, but if you’re able to find where their real body is tucked away, you might have a chance to bring them back for realsies! To the game’s credit, it deeply explores both the negative and positive psychological implications of such an existence, albeit in a melodramatic fashion one comes to expect from most anime (which J-RPGs are basically offshoots of). The characters are all well-rounded, with Elma, your commanding officer and all around badass bitch, being my favorite. I even love what Elma says whenever she levels up:
“Strength comes from experience. That’s true on any planet.”
Meanwhile, whenever my character leveled up she’d exclaim “MY GROWTH SPURT!!!” Which is... weird. I guess it’s better than your 13-year-old teammate, Lin, yelling that.
You’re well-advised to spend most of your time with Elma and Lin, getting them nice and strong. You can also choose fourth party member from a variety of characters you meet along the way. The longer you spend time with your team completing missions, the more your affinity grows with them. One you reach a certain affinity level, it opens a personal side-quest with each respective character, which are worth doing not only to further dive into the story, but for the “fortune and glory, kid, fortune and glory”, as Indiana Jones would say.
While I can’t say enough things about the story, the gameplay is just as solid and immersive. It plays basically just like its spiritual predecessor, for it should be noted at this point that gameplay is the only thing is has in common with the first game as it does not continue the story. It’s almost like how Mega Man X *kinda* continues the story of the original Mega Man series, but with a darker, more sci-fi tone. Xenoblade Chronicles 1 and 2 are pure fantasy (with a lil bit of sci-fi), while Xenoblade Chronicles X is sci-fi fantasy all the way. It’s pretty much the J-RPG version of Mass Effect, but without all the sex.
The battle system is in real-time, with your various special moves set up in slots. You can unleash them at will, or wait for your comrades to request a specific move, which is optimal as it is one of very few ways to heal your party. Plus, those special attacks have to recharge, so you don’t want to be stuck with no specials while your party’s HP is in the red, and one of them is begging for a heal. Aw~kward! I do like how streamlined it feels as opposed to the kind of turn-based fighting I’m used to in J-RPGs, although it’s always stressful not being able to control the three other party members beyond issuing generic squad orders like “Concentrate your fire” or “assemble with me” or “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE” before running from danger like King Arthur and his knights running from that bunny in Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
You’ll be using that order a lot by the way as, similarly to the first game, low level enemies cohabit alongside extremely high level enemies all over the world maps. While most of the time the super strong monsters will ignore your existence, unless you pick a fight or bump into them, others might not have such a chill disposition and will prefer to trample you instead. Running into an area populated by high-level enemies can feel a lot like when you accidentally wander into a dangerous neighborhood. There’s nothing like looking for a rare item in a cave only to realize it’s full of enemies twice your level, so you carefully back away like the Homer Simpson meme:
You might think I’m complaining, but I actually really enjoyed this in both games, as it really makes it feel like a truly open world and having to tread softly or risk sudden annihilation from a level 80 tyrant you didn’t know was there makes it feel more like an adventure. That being said... it can also be incredibly infuriating when you’re flying around in your mech suit, which are called “Skells” in this game, and you innocently bump into a powerful bad guy only for him to promptly blow up your Skells, leaving you with a salvage cost in the MILLIONS. Yep, that’s when you normally “save scum” by loading up a previous save, but damned if they didn’t make it a pain in the ass what with the obscene loading times and all the fucking menu screens you have to press A through. While it’s true that players who are savvy about planting mining beacons in the most optimal way to earn money will have more credits than they know how to spend, you will trash your Skells a lot, and that shit adds up, especially when you’re trying to save for more powerful Skells or expensive equipment.
By the way, I don’t want to understate how fucking cool it is that you get a giant mech robot to ride in halfway through the game. I was already onboard with Xenoblade Chronicle X before that happened, so adding a giant mech robot to the mix is like discovering for the first time how freaking delicious Fritos are in chili. Like... I love chili, but I had not idea it could be improved THIS much with Fritos! And just as the initial buzz of getting a Skell starts to wear off, YOU GET A FLIGHT MODULE THAT ALLOWS YOU TO FLY ALL OVER THE MAP WITH IMPUNITY! Hey, you like chili and Fritos? Howz about a blow job too? I mean, you’ll have to listen to an irritatingly catchy J-pop song while you’re getting the blow job, but still awesome!
Which finally brings us to the music. Holy shit. The music is composed by Hiroyuki Sawano, who did the music for the anime series Attack on Titan. There are lots of great tracks for the game... well except for both the day and night themes for NLA, which will get stuck in your head so much you’ll scream into your pillow while trying to sleep at night (meanwhile in your brain you keep hearing, “Uh, yeah, uh, yeah, oh oh oh”). Even the worst track is forgivable if only because the main theme to game, innocously titled “Theme X”, is one of the most goddamn beautiful pieces of music I’ve heard in a game in years. Listen and let the goosebumps wash over you:
youtube
It’s obvious I love the game, but there are negatives too. For one, I didn’t finish the game, because HOLY HELL are the final bosses difficult. Firstly, any hope that you have of beating them is with your Skells, so should they get wrecked somewhere along the way, there’s no way to bring them back, so you’re SOLAMWF (or “Shit out luck and mighty well fucked” as George Carlin coined). If you saved before the fight, your heard was in the right place, but guess what? You’re fucking trapped. You can’t leave to buy a stronger Skell or level grind. It’s a goddamn dead end, emphasis on the word “dead”. Fortunately, being a seasoned RPG player, when Elma asked me not only once, but TWICE, if I was ABSOLUTELY sure I’m ready to enter the Lifehold, I got the subtext and didn’t save once inside. However, stupidly, I did save after accepting the final mission, which effectively locks out the affinity missions, which can be much less redundant way to level grind than doing the “Basic Missions” (which consists of tasks like fetch quests and monster bounties). I tried like hell to grind to level 50 and save up enough credits to buy a level 50 Skell (which were the minimum recommendations for evening the odds against the boss), but I still couldn’t beat him.
So out of frustration and boredom, I rage quit the game and moved on to something that will hopefully be a lot less strenuous... Bloodborne (wah-waaaaaah). I like Xenoblade enough that I’ll return to it and continue grinding away until I eventually beat it.
So yeah... Xenoblade Chronicles X is pretty fucking great. I would cautiously nominate it as the best RPG you’ll play on the Wii U (below Breath of the Wild of course).
#xenoblade chronicles x#Monolith Soft#jrpg#wiiu#nintendo#rpg#role playing games#scifi#skells#video games#xeno#anime
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