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pcrushinnerd · 4 years

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The Cat, Chapter 23

Warnings: Language. Lack of cat.

A/N: Sorry for not updating in a bit. Adult life getting in the way, unfortunately. Also sorry for the lack of Arthur himself in these latest chapters, but hopefully some of what I have here and coming up will make up for it, including something in this chapter I’m sure we all wanted to see in the movie but didn’t get, unfortunately.

....

You sat at home alone that night. Poured yourself some whiskey, before poring over the file again.

There had to be something. Something among all the bullshit that could prove Arthur was still…Arthur Fleck. Penny’s boy. Precisely who he always thought he was. Maybe more.

Something that could pull him back from the precipice that he not only seemed to be leaning toward, but smiling into.

You went back to the newspaper clippings. They did name the boyfriend; you wrote down his name with disgust, but doubted it would lead to anything. Supposedly he was already 20 years Penny’s senior at the time. Fucker had probably already drunk himself into his grave.

Something else about the articles caught your attention.

.....

During your first break the next day at work, you used all the databases and other directories at your fingertips to look up the boyfriend. As you suspected—dead as a door nail. Good, you thought. Though it didn’t exactly help your cause.

Taking a later lunch, you sat at your desk and dialed the Gotham Gazette. “Hello there,” you answered, falling into your old accent. “I was just wonderin’ if certain reporters still worked there?”

“Uh, sure.... What’re their names?” a younger male voice asked.

You looked down at your notes. “Sal Rosenbluth?”

A laugh sounded through the phone. “Gee, lady, 20 years too late. He retired ages ago.”

Your heart sunk a little. “Well, hope he’s enjoyin’ his retirement....” you fished.

“He died 10 years ago. Who are the others?”

Just one other name was penciled into your notebook: “B. R. Smith?”

Another groan. “Oh yeah, he’s definitely still here. Will probably drop dead at his desk someday.”

“If he is there now can ya be so kind as to transfer me to him?”

“Wha—who should I say is calling for him?”

“Uh, Louise Stewart. I work for...” you looked down at the early Christmas card from your company’s competitor, “Gotham Mutual. I’m tryin’ to do some research related to a policy.”

“Uh, alright. One moment.”

You waited. You listened impatiently to some generic piano music while on hold. You breathed a strain breath.

“Smith here,” an older voice spoke into the phone.

“Hello Mr. Smith. My name is Louise Stewart. I’m callin’ from an insurance company here in Gotham, ‘bout a life insurance policy we’re decidin’ whether to pay out? We suspect the beneficiary might not actually be related to the recently deceased. Doin’ some digging, it appears you wrote some articles about some unfortunate events in their past. I haven’t been able to find much else, so I was wonderin’ if you could help me?” You had to pat yourself on the back; you were thinking of a lot of this off the fly.

“Well, I can certainly try. Who are the people involved?”

“The deceased is Penny Fleck. Arthur Fleck is--was her son.”

“Oh?” Smith asked quietly. Didn’t say anything else.

“Uh…yes. You wrote about his being abuse at the hands of her boyfriend in the past. You described him as being adopted. What…source informed you he was adopted and not her natural child?”

“Adopted children can’t be beneficiaries of a life insurance policy?”

“No, of course they can,” you acknowledged, drawing out your o’s like you used to, but also trying not to sound like a caricature of yourself. “I’ve just seen some conflicting information about his relationship to her, and we just wanted to make sure we covered all the bases.” Your accent slipped a little at the end; you hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“Honestly it was so long ago I’m not sure I can remember. But I know for sure the boy was adopted.”

You did a double take. “But….”

“And Miss? If I were you, I wouldn’t dig too deep on this one.”

Smith hung up. You sat at your desk, listening to the blaring sound of the disconnected tone for several seconds, before replacing the handset to its cradle.

Well, that wasn’t at all unnerving or suspicious.

....

Tuesday was too hectic to tend to much of anything outside of work. Once home, you by-passed even trying to see if he was home. You were avoiding him, avoiding potential confrontation, avoiding.... You knew it, but you wanted desperately to have something in hand first before coming back to him.

You were given another Wednesday off.

You thought of one last thing. One big old shot in the dark. You had a friend at the city clerk’s office. Whenever you needed to get a marriage or death certificate in relation to a claim, Harold was your go-to man. Birth certificates were a much more rare occurrence. You wanted to not involve your job in any way this time. You had an idea.

“Jennifer! How’s my favorite insurance adjuster?”

“Uh, I’m still just a secretary, but thanks for thinking positively. How are you, Harold?”

The older, bigger man rubbed his hands up and down the front of his sweater. “The ol’ ticker isn’t what she used to be, but...that’s life, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Um....” You shifted on your feet. “I was wondering if I could get a favor?”

“Well, sure, of course. What do you need?”

You leaned forward on the counter, looked down, then up as you gave your best sweet-demure look to Harold. “Well, see, I’m actually...getting married. Eloping. With the sweetest guy I’ve ever met....” You paused; looked away for a moment.

“Well, congratulations!”

You laughed cheerily. “Yeah. But ya know, we need to get all our stuff in order--all the blood tests and paperwork and such. We wanted to be sure we entered his parents’ info correctly, but...he doesn’t have his birth certificate. He’s...working right now, but if I could get it for him--“ You pushed some mail forward. You’d earlier swiped a piece from his apartment that didn’t have his apartment number on it, but which had still managed to find its way to Arthur at some point. Together with one of your bills, you hoped that was enough “proof” that you lived together with this man and weren’t just asking for some random person’s birth certificate.

Harold didn’t even glance at the mail. “Of course Jennifer. Just tell me his name and date of birth and I’ll go back and see if I can find it.”

“Uhh.... I don’t actually know his date of birth.”

“Hmm.... Don’t know the year, at least?”

You did some mental math. “1949, I think.”

“Well, it might take a while,” Harold warned. “Is that okay?”

You shook your head. “Perfectly fine.”

Harold turned to go, but then turned back. “Oh, uh, what is your betrothed’s name?”

You smiled, maybe a bit sadly. “Arthur Fleck.”

....

Harold wasn’t kidding; it was going on two and a half hours and you still hadn’t seen him. You were starting to fear this was just another dead end--after all, if there was some covert, sinister element to all this as all signs pointed to at that moment, why on earth would anything significant just be left sitting in the city clerk’s office?--but your breath about stopped when you finally saw Harold, smiling, waving a piece of paper around in his hand.

You rushed up to the counter. “Did you find it?”

“Here you are, my dear....” He placed the faded document in front of you. “Certificate of Live Birth,” for one Arthur Fleck--no middle name--born November 21, 1949. You glanced at the bottom; it was certified, and it was dated shortly after his birth. It had to be the original one.

You looked for his parents. Mother: Penelope Fleck, age 22, of New Jersey. Father: Unknown.

Harold noticed your frown. “Don’t worry Jennifer, just enter ‘Unknown’ for his father when you put all that info down. It is technically correct.”

“Um, yeah, no....”

“Is something wrong?”

“No! No, not at all.” You hugged the document to your chest. “Can I have a copy of it?”

“That is your copy. Certified and all. Just in case he needs it.”

You nodded. “Thank you so much Harold.”

....

You rapped loudly on Arthur’s door. “Arthur! Open up!”

You were so excited. You felt you finally had something to disprove all the bullshit that had been thrown at him lately about who he was, or wasn’t. Something you hoped would work as an amulet that could transform him back into your Arthur.

You weren’t sure what reception you would get. You had your .22 tucked into the back pocket of your jeans, hidden beneath your leather moto jacket. You had on your sturdiest shoes in your army boots, if you needed to...kick anything.

You knocked again, but no response.

Your anxiety was starting to perk up. You hadn’t seen Arthur since Penny’s grave side on Sunday.

You tried the door handle, and, to your surprise, this time the door opened.

You stepped inside. It was quiet. Too quiet.

“Arthur?” you called out, but no answer.

The smell of cigarette smoke was so faint, compared to when you were last inside his apartment. You went over to the TV and placed a hand to it. It was cold. There were multiple VHS tapes lying around, all marked “Murray Franklin” and numbered.

You rushed into Penny’s room, then the bathroom. Even looked in the closet again. Nothing.

Where the hell could he be?

Glancing over at their table, you noticed the gun was gone.

Your tired brain raced. You left the apartment behind as you rushed out, panic surging through you.

....

You just wanted to find him. You looked everywhere. All the restaurants you had been, including the donut shop, stepping inside of which made you a bit sad. Pogo’s, but no one had seen him since the open mic night. All the more mundane places--like the bodega down the street and the laundromat and the post office. You even went to the record store you took him to once, and the bowling alley at Amusement Mile where you went to twice. Nothing.

You exhaled audibly, as you stared at the door in front of you.

Ha Ha’s

Talent Booking

He had been fired weeks ago, but maybe one of his co-workers had seen him? As far as you knew, Arthur didn’t really have any friends. At least none you knew of really. But maybe one of his former co-workers had seen him?

A taped-up, handmade paper sign on the door told you to ring a bell, but you ignored it as you swung the door open.

You drudged up some stairs, then found yourself traveling down some colorful hallways. You followed some laughter into a break room with lockers lined up on one side.

It was a room full of men, most of them dressed as clowns or in some state of clowning or declowning. One man was dressed in a full tuxedo and top hat, while another looked like a Chip ‘n’ Dale dancer.

Gradually, they all stopped what they were doing and looked up at you.

“Who the hell are you?”

You looked around. “Anyone here seen Arthur Fleck?”

There was some grumbling, annoyed moans. A portly clown in suspenders stepped forward. “Who’s askin’?”

You stared this man in the eye. “Just a friend. I...haven’t seen him in several days and I’m worried.”

“If you haven’t seen Arthur in a while count your lucky stars. Weird freak,” another clown commented. A few of the others laughed.

Your eyebrows shot up briefly. “Boy I can see why he loved this place....” You looked away.

That earned some grunts, but the man in the tuxedo stepped forward. “Do you think something happened to Arthur?”

You shrugged, sighed. “I don’t know. His mom died several days ago and he hasn’t been in a good place.”

That gave most of the men pause. “Arthur’s momma died?”

“Yeah....”

That same clown in the suspenders stepped up closer to you. “Arthur hasn’t been here in weeks and we haven’t seen him in that long. So skedaddle...” he looked you up and down, “freak.”

You smirked, motioned to the man. “Sure you don’t have a hot dog eating contest down at the pier you have to be at or something?”

“You bitch—” Suspenders moved toward you, but stopped when a voice called out from behind you: “Randall, that’s enough.”

You turned and looked down to see a smaller man with a beard and receding hair line. “Never mind him, Ma’am. If you’re looking for Arthur, I’m afraid none of us have seen him since he took his things after he was fired.”

You regarded the man carefully. “Gary?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You nodded. “He talked of you fondly.”

Gary just shrugged.

You sighed again. “Thanks Gary.”

“When you find him, let him know w—I’m thinking of him.”

“I will,” you nodded.

You turned to go, but one of the men had to throw out one last jab:

“Sure you’re just friends? With a figure like that, I woulda thought Arthur would have something like you locked up in some basement.”

You stopped, smiled, but didn’t turn around. Instead, you reached out and punched a bulky time clock hanging precariously on the end of a wall. It fell crashing to the floor, but you didn’t pay it any mind as you went on.

One man yelped. Most of them grumbled again.

“Freaks of a feather,” you could hear someone mutter.

You left Ha Ha’s behind, shoving your hands into your leather jacket to fend off the cold as you stepped outside. Apparently you weren’t watching where you were going, because you bumped right into someone who was headed inside.

“Hey, watch where you’re fucking going,” the man spat. He was wearing somewhat dated clothing—pointed collar, leisure suit. Gold chain over graying, exposed chest hair. Classy.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Hey, did you just come out of there?” He asked in a nasally, strained voice, motioning to the door. “Looking to hire some...talent?”

You studied the man for a moment. “Is your name Hoyt?” You smiled.

He stepped up to you, grinning. “At your service.”

You stepped up closer, still smiling yourself. As hard as possible, you kneed him in the groin.

Hoyt immediately doubled over and groaned in pain. “What the fuck!? You cunt! Get back here!”

But you were already halfway down the down street.

.....

Arthur came out for the fortieth time. Waving, smiling. Trying to appear natural, normal.

“Hmmm...needs a bit more spark. Energy. You look as stiff as a board,” “you” commented from where you sat in the corner. Took a drag from a cigarette that never burned down.

Arthur sighed. “I’m never gonna get this right.”

“You will.” Another drag. “Eventually.”

He had been practicing for days in front of “you.” He had come a long way, but didn’t totally feel ready for his Murray Franklin appearance. Like he wasn’t quite there yet.

“Don’t worry,” “you” soothed. “You’ll knock ‘em dead.”

..…

You returned home exhausted, defeated. Sort of fed up of the whole situation. But once you reached your floor, and looked down the hall, something nagged at you. You started in the opposite direction, toward your door, but you stopped. You closed your eyes.

You walked to his door. You didn’t even bother knocking this time. You tried the door handle; it was locked this time.

“Huh.”

Luckily you had a stray bobby pin stuck in the bottom of one of your jeans pockets. You fished it out and it applied it to the lock. With some manipulation, you got the thing to unlock.

You took a steadying breath before opening the door and stepping inside.

No signs of life. In fact, nothing really looked changed from earlier. You would have wondered if Arthur hadn’t left town, if it weren’t for the door being locked when it wasn’t before.

You looked around. Questioned whether it was possible that anyone else could have been in this apartment.

You wandered into Penny’s old room. Nothing had been changed in there, seemingly.

You stepped up his mother’s dresser. Opened the drawers to find her clothing still there, as well as Arthur’s.

You wandered back out into the living room. Your eyes fell on Arthur’s journal and few other belongings on the small table in the corner. Even the crumpled lunch bag and the .38 were there. Seemingly things he’d want to take with him if we just going to up and leave. Maybe. There were still so much you didn’t truly know about him, seemingly. So much that seemed like a question mark, hanging in the air, just out of your reach.

Your hand hovered over the worn journal with his name written on the front. You had promised each other to respect the other person’s boundaries, but it felt like the time for that had passed.

You flipped the journal open.

You flipped through multiple pages. You weren’t quite sure what to think of what you saw. A lot of it was the expected scribblings about his days, his thoughts, his plans, but they were interspersed with more disturbing passages and drawings and cut outs.

You quickly shut the journal. You looked up through the half-arch into his kitchen.

Walking around, you stepped up to the folding screen still in front of the archway entrance. You reached up and grabbed it, letting it fold on itself before you tossed it aside.

It looked like a tornado had struck, as rotten food and containers and shelving and broken dishes were lying scattered across the floor. You tread carefully, trying not to slip on or further break anything.

The papers from the funeral home that handled Penny’s arrangements were sitting on the counter.

You glanced up. The cupboards and walls were wallpapered with newspaper clippings. Faces of snarling clowns and words speaking of murder and uprising and the names of three dead men.

You stared at this horrific collage for some time.

Your mind went to that night, after Pogo’s when the two of you were walking home, and Arthur stopped at the newsstand. Smiled at many of these same headlines. To other moments that didn’t entirely make sense or seemed right at the time, but which were brushed off, quickly forgotten, for the sake of a false peace, for an unsteady happiness. To the timing of the Wall Street Three murders and what happened later that night.

“This was you, wasn’t it?” you whispered, as your body shook.

“This is you.”

#joker #joker 2019 #joker film #joker movie #joker fanfic #joker fanfiction #joker fan fic #joker fan fiction #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x oc #friends to lovers #slow burn too I guess #I couldn't let Jennifer not meet Gary and Randall #well #mostly Gary #also Hoyt getting what he deserved #I also wanted to fill the plot hole of how Gary and Randall knew Penny had died

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piracytheorist · 4 years

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Have You Forgotten Yours?

aka my first ficlet for Grim Fandango this is insane I never thought I’d go there but there’s a first time for everything right

Word count: 633 AO3

It's been a quiet night.

Soft murmurs are heard from the casino but the cafe is empty, save for Glottis improvising on the piano. He was right, he is good with anything that has keys.

Manny sits at the bar as if he doesn't own the place. There's something about tonight. Sitting down with a full ashtray and an empty glass is not how he usually spends nights like these - more like the other way around.

He can't deny Salvador's last message is probably the reason he's like this tonight. Sal is apparently worried Manny has lost sight of the end goal, as if his reasoning to make this nightclub was just to enjoy shallow pleasures!

As if he hasn't been thinking about Meche every day, hoping when she'll finally appear in Rubacava, seeing Manny's name on a neon sign will at least pique her curiosity enough to come check. For whatever reason that might be - he's never doubted she could be mad at him, still now. It's his fault she's been lost all this time.

Maybe she's missed him, maybe she will just want to demand the ticket she was supposed to have received months ago...

He sighs. It's times like these that the last words he heard from her haunt him the worst.

I'm sorry I let you down, Manny.

You haven't, he should have told her. It's not your fault. We'll figure it out.

Should have, would have, could have...

And some of his first words out of his mouth, once he realized he couldn't find the ticket she deserved, was his fear of getting fired. When that woman was facing walking the hardest path, deserved for the nastiest souls, after spending her whole - albeit short - life being kind and giving.

He grips the glass so hard he would probably break it if he still had muscles.

And Meche wasn't even the only time he acted like this, though she was the most deserving soul he'd had in years. But even the less... "perfect", souls, did they deserve it? Having their route to the Ninth Underworld treated only in the context of how much Manny himself would make out of it, Manny acting like they're any random client instead of consoling them through their first moments of being dead?

Well, he was a businessman, not a psychologist, and after years on the job - and dead himself - he could say he was desensitized to death, no matter how untimely it was for each of his clients. But it was this cold, collected behavior of his that led Meche to take off on her own.

If he had just tried to comfort her, reassure her, think of her instead of himself for a moment...

He reaches into his inner pocket and pulls out one of Sal's earlier messages.

You must be patient and let your heart remain open.

Heart. Funny word to use, despite how he feels a phantom pang right where it used to be as he reads the line.

If it is meant to be, you will some day be reunited.

He wants to laugh. Sal immediately assumed... what he assumed about Manny, and Manny might have evaded immediately laying out his feelings in front of him, but in truth it was never about getting his job back. Not after facing the possibility of getting sprouted, at least. The Department of Death can rot - more - for all he cares.

But it's his fault. Meche being alone and lost, facing a destiny she doesn't deserve... and he simply wants to fix that. Nothing less, and nothing more.

The paper crinkles between his bony fingers, the word "heart" folds in two, and that phantom pang appears in his hollow chest again.

Maybe there is something more.

Even so. It doesn't matter now.

#Grim Fandango #Grim Fandango ff #Manny Calavera #piracytheorist writes

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sallyface-incorrect · 5 years

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The Struggles of Having ADHD

- Only Being able to sleep either 2 hours or 16, there’s no in between. I am legit typing this at 3:02 am because I can’t sleep and I haven’t slept that much and it sucks. Summer is for sleeping, not for stress.

- Not being able to remember basic information about someone like their name, but being able to remember that they once told you that their great great aunt had a mole on her foot the shape of Texas. True story btw, sorry Amber.

- Feeling like your being rejected if your friend can’t make it to hang out with you because of family reasons. RSD is a bitch. Like the tiniest thing can make you feel rejected. Ie, your mom telling you not to be so loud, someone asking why your sneezes are so loud, someone asking you to return their pen, etc.

- Having your medication ware off/forgetting to take it and being the most annoying bitch in the galaxy. I once went on a school trip and my meds wore off and I ended up spending the 2 hour bus ride back annoying the guy who was trying to sleep in front of me, again, I am so sorry Max.

- IDK if it’s just me but, chewing on literally everything. Bottle caps, paper, fabric, rubber (my favorite), and much more. I used to get punished all the time for chewing on things I wasn’t supposed to. Nail biting is also a big thing. And so is hair chewing.

- Being told “You’re too smart to have ADHD”. Well Susan, I have a neurological devolpmental disorder, I’m not retarded.

- Either giving too much information or not enough when in conversation, and also bringing up really irrelevant things in the conversation like, I know we’re talking about the Louisiana Perchance but can I tell you about this one time it rained and I saw a snail?

- Being botherd by loud and/or repetitive noises. Pen clicking and high pitched sirens make me want to scream. They suckkk harder then Travis wants to suck Sal’s dick. And the worse is when people think you’re weird or that you have a problem with them for asking. I understand you like to click your pen and I’m so sorry it’s just so loud...

- Being afraid of your friends rejecting you. Again, RSD is a bitch. Like you’re afraid that one day your bestie will get up and leave and never come back and it’s all your fault and you suck and ughhhhhh. You’re also afraid their s/o / parents hate you and one day they’ll convince them to just leave you.

- Medication is a godsend but it’s also problematic. The stuff that I take fucks up my sleep schedule, my appetite, and make me tired and nauseous. It also gives me headaches and belly aches :(

- Either being so hungry that you also eat everything in your fridge or being so not hungry that even the concept of food disgust you. And sometimes, you even throw up because food is so gross and you’re gross and all that gross is inside you and eww.

- Intense, powerful migraines. They get worse in the winter months. Last year I took almost a week off of school because my migraines got worse and worse and worse and I couldn’t do it.

- Having no measurement of personal space or how to physically interact with someone. I just said hi, do I hug you, do I high five you, idk? Like idk how many potential friendships I’ve fucked up because I was too handsey.

- Being really particular about the type of clothing I wear. I love LOVE long sleeve shirts/ sweatshirts/ sweaters/ hoodies and shorts. I also love to wear socks around the house. I hate HATE wearing socks with shoes though, it makes me anxious. I also hate wearing certain types of pants. I literally only have 2 - 3 pairs of pants I’ll wear because pants sometimes feel like a tent and I hate that.

- Not being able to loose weight. I’m not fat, or chubby, I mean I have abs for God’s sake! It’s just that I have thick ass thigh I h a t e and I wish I could just get rid of them but my medication prevents me from loosing all that weight. On the bright side, I can eat a lot and not gain weight either.

- Having certain little routines you can’t skip. For example, every morning I must shave my legs and brush my hair or the world will end. I also must have all the doors and windows closed or else I’m gonna scream.

- Also idk if this is a problem for anyone else but doors and windows being open. I can’t stand it, I mean please, I don’t care that you’re just coming up for 1 thing but p l e a s e for the love of g o d, close the door that leads to upstairs. Having it open just isn’t right.

- Hyperfixiating on something for soo long that you forget to do basic hygiene like shower, use the bathroom, brush your hair, brush your teeth. It can get you in really big trouble but at least the job is done.

- Having a comfort item. Like I have this stuffed lamb whose name is “Lambchop” but I call “Lambie” and I sleep with them each and every night and carry them around the house with me when I’m home and if I’m upset I NEED to cuddle them bacuse it’s the only thing that will make the world go away.

- Being insanely good at certain academics and shitty at others. For example, when I was in 5th grade I was reading at an undergrad level and had the ability to understand science concepts a senior would be learning but my math was at the level of a second graders.

- Idk how to describe it but like, doing movements half way and the forgetting about them. Like this one time I was at a piano recital and I went to reach for something and forgot what I was reaching for so I just kinda held my hand up in a grabbing motion for half a song and then forgot about it until my mom reminded me to put it down.

- Not being able to understand that people don’t want to hear about your hyperfixiation. I’ve had 2 cases of this in my life, my “ghosts are definitely really and now this is my only personality triat” and my “I’m not a weeb but Tokyo Ghoul is so good now let me tell you all about the plot.” (Tokyo Ghoul gang REPRESENT)

- Having 3 different moods, hyperactive, normal, and cold. Like you’re normal most of the time but sometimes you’re sooo hyper that your an entirely different person, or sometimes you’re sooo distant you’re a different person too.

- Not being able to identify your emotions very well. Like, this guy just told me that my dad and my bestie are asshole who deserve to die in a fire, what am I feeling? Am I sad? Angry? Scared? Do I think this is funny? Am I gonna laugh? Cry? Idk, throw hands? Or the dreaded crush. Do I have feelings for this person or do I just want to be really good friends? Do I hate them? Love them? Am I gonna cry the next time I see them? Last time we hung out was fun but idk???

- Also like I mentioned, romance/sexuality is hard. Last time I dated I dated this guy I really liked, or at least I thought I did. We dated for three months before I blew it off because he asked to put his arm around me and it was weird when I said yes. Also sexuality. Idk if this is a problem for anyone else or just my bisexual ass. Like it’s so hard and I really like guys but hey, girls are hot. And like I like guys more than girls?? Sometime it makes me feel really fake.

- Really enhanced weird hearing. I know at least 80% of my classes drama because I have superhearing and I’m a literal hearing god bow down, bitch. I can hear the smallest of sounds and such, but for some goddamn reason I can’t understand how loud I’m being.

- Extestensial nihilism and just being cool about it. Like, dude, idk if there’s a god out there? I’d like to think there’s some sort of Devine power and we have a purpose but idk, we probably don’t have a purpose. I mean, we’ll be forgotten after we die anyway unless we’re Tom Holland. And love probably doesn’t exist either and it’s only stigmatized by movies and books and media and we’re all gonna get married and be miserable for ever and such. But like does it really even matter? In the end we’re all alone so go off I guess.

- Being really sensitive to smell. Certain smells drive me through the roof. For example, I have an extreme fish allergy and even smelling the slightest hint a salmon can give me a migraine so intense I think I’m dying. Or essential oils. Ughh I hate those. They send me through the roof.

- Being able to remember something you heard in a YouTube video you watched back when you were nine but not being able to remember when you birthday is some days because it really be like that.

- Being really good with little kids. Idk if everyone is like this but I am very childish myself and little kids love me. I have at least 3 little boys in 1st - 3rd grade who think I’m their girlfriend and 8 little girls in kindergarten - 5th grade who think I’m their big sister, it’s really sweet.

- Always apologizing is a big thing for me. When I was a child I used to get in trouble for saying sorry when I did anything and that carried to teen hood. Last year at my dance class my teacher noticed this and tried to help me break my habit god bless you Christine.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk bois. ADHD sucks but I know you can do it👌🏻

#aaa i know this doesn’t fit this blog’s aesthetic #i just felt like making it #sorry guys #not a quote #adhd #add #adhd rsd #adhd inattentive #adhd awareness #tw mental health #mental health

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goldinkmaknae · 6 years

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Rainy Days

This is my first story and if you like it I'd appreciate you following me so I could know if I should do this more!!

Prompt: Use the lyrics of your favorite song as the basis of a short story.

The song I will be using is: HEIZE~ You, Clouds, Rain

Word count- 5139

Yoongi X reader

Genre- coffee shop AU, slight fluff, angst

summary-You are a cafe owner and one day you pay yoongi to play at the small cafe, thanks to him your company gets a big boost and you both become great friends, maybe even more~

“She’s trouble Sal, please trust me.”

Those words were the ones I never thought I’d regret saying. He never knew what I knew about her, the reason she wanted to be his. The only thing I remember from the day he left me was the rain and the feeling of losing something you loved, to someone who didn’t deserve it.

“Is the replacement pianist here?” I questioned my coworker while I slid my apron on. The day was cloudy, rain tapping against the window pane.

In spite of the gloomy atmosphere outside, there were a few people in my cafe eating breakfast with smiles on their faces. I always enjoyed making others happy with the food we created, and I worked hard to help the cafe create a homey atmosphere. With live music, what could be better than that?

“The replacement will be here soon, his name is Min Yoongi,” Rhea replied, leaving quickly to take the orders of people who had arrived at the tables near the door.

Today will be a good day, I promised myself.

“Oh, Sal called again, I forgot to tell you.” She came back behind the counter to gather the coffee that was recently made, her eyes flickering in my direction every few seconds, gauging my reaction. “He said it’s important for you to talk to him.”

The bell above the door chimed, and the pianist strode through it, keyboard held easily in one hand. He was obviously taller than me I could tell even from this distance, but it’s not like that was a difficult feat if I’m being honest. As he shrugged his hood off, I noticed his hair was a platinum color. When he looked up at me, our eyes met, and I smiled sheepishly, waving softly at him. There was a hint of a smile on his face, and I briefly wondered how dazzling it would be like when he smiled for real. I took his entrance as an excuse to disregarded the current conversation we were having in favor of helping him set up.

“You must be Min Yoongi,” I stuck my hand out and he took it gently between his. His fingertips were cold, thanks to the weather. “My name is y/n. I run this place.” “

Ah, it’s nice to meet you.” He spoke as gently as he shook my hand, and I was surprised at how deep his voice was. He quietly began creating his set up and busied himself with that, so I decided to get him some coffee in hopes that he would cheer up.

“I don’t know how you like your coffee, but I brought you a cup. Surely it’ll warm you up.” I set the creamer and sugar next to his mug on the table. My face flushed, and I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Actually, I’m not even sure if you like coffee, but hopefully my guess was correct.”

Yoongi shot me a gummy smile, “I love coffee.” He grabbed a couple of sugar packets and sprinkled them in after the creamer, "Actually, I’ve been told I’ve got a lot in common with a great cup; I’m cute and just a little bit bitter.”

I giggled at his ridiculous joke, with a little more zealous than was probably necessary, “I can’t say I see the resemblance.”

He scoffed, but was grinning none the less, “That hurts, y/n.”

***

Yoongi had quite a large fanbase, and it felt that every time I thought there couldn’t be more, another fan would home sauntering through the doorframe to support him. It was easily one of our most successful days.

In the few minutes I spoke to him between songs and skirting around the cafe as I attended to customers, I understood exactly why they adored them. He was quiet, more so than most people, but this wasn’t news to me. I didn’t talk much to myself, except at work where I held a different, personable personality toward customers. In spite of this, Yoongi was really easy to talk to, somehow chirping quirky one-liner to me when I least expected it. He was actually rather charismatic.

Yoongi had left the bathroom after his long day of playing, as the final customer left the cafe, and I began cleaning the counters. However, not long after I began, the door chimed.

“I’m so sorry, but it’s past our hours!” I motioned toward the windowpane where our closing sign hung, as I gave the countertop the last scrub before turning to address them, “I was just about to close—“

I all but choked on my words. Sal stood in the doorway, and his drunken state vibrated through the cafe. I involuntarily shivered. He only got drunk when something bad happened.

“Y/n.” He hiccuped, lowering his voice while he limped closer, “I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve listened…she lied to me, about everything.” His tear stained cheeks formed a sad smile and he left only a few inches between us. His breath was harsher now, and I could practically smell the soju rolling off him in waves. He had obviously drunk too much.

I took a few steps back, creating some space for us. “What are you doing here?” There was a slight crack in my voice, betraying my attempts to sound strong.

“I’ve loved you y/n, I know you feel the same,” he gripped my white shirt and dropped the empty bottle he had in his hand. It clattered harshly against the wood flooring and rolled a few feet away, echoing in the silence. “I was just too stupid…you would never betray me like her. I didn’t know that before, but I do — I do now.”

“You’re not making any sense,” I tried getting out of his grasp, twisting my body away from his. He only pulled me in tighter. “Stop it, Sal. You’re scaring me.” But as his grip continued to tighten, my reflexes kicked in, and I wrenched my body away from his with all my might, as chairs clattered against each other while he staggered back, attempting to regain his balance.

“Get out of my store.” I pointed at the door, my voice strong. The tears I had tried to hold back were threatening to escape, but I didn’t move to wipe them away. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

He stumbled toward the door, muttering a simple, “I’ll be back.”

The breath I was holding back freed itself and I began moving the chairs back into their original place, tossing the bottle into the recycling bin with more force than I intended. It cracked and a few chips scattered in the bin.

“Are you okay y/n?” The sound of his voice made me jump, a chair clashing with the wood floor, and I leaned back to stare at him.

Yoongi stood in the hallway, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean to overhear everything, but that man seemed to be very drunk and I wasn’t sure if he was going to give you trouble.”

The genuine concern in his voice made me quickly wipe the stray tears away, and I smiled back in the assurance that I was fine. “I need to pay you for today!” I clapped my hands and walked behind the counter, counting the money and handing him his share.

He smiled softly, seeming to understand I didn’t want to talk about anything. As he opened the door to the cafe, Yoongi stalled, twisting his body in the doorway,

“I don’t want to push my luck, but should I come back tomorrow?”

“Only if you’re available. Today was one of the better day’s we’ve had, so I would actually love it if you’d do so.”

He grinned, “Sound’s good then. Same time?”

I nodded, and he said goodbye before disappearing through the doorway.

Silence overwhelmed the cafe, as I turned the lights off and marched upstairs, my dog Marvin whining the minute he heard the final step creak under my weight.

As I unlatched the door to my studio apartment, he ran in circles at my feet, as my fingertips grazed his glossy white and grey speckled coat.

“How are you, Marv?” I asked, and he whined in response, leading me toward his bowl with a pointed look. “I know you’re hungry buddy, gimme a sec.” I pulled a can of wet food from the cabinet and mixed it half and half with his dry food.

He spun in circles as I walked to set his bowl down, and I smiled briefly at his enthusiasm, patting his head.

I glanced around my kitchen and when I realized I wasn’t remotely hungry, I walked into my room in a dazed state. As I set my phone to charge, it connected to my Bluetooth speakers, and as luck would have it, I heard the opening notes of a song that meant a lot to me. I could hear Marvin’s approaching as his nails clicked against the wood floor, and his furry head bobbed into view.

He stared at me, head tilted to the side, ears at attention, no doubt listening to the way my breath was coming in short, shallow spurts. The memories I associated with that song were coming back and before I knew it I was in tears.

He threw his front paws on my bed, creeping closer to rest his chin on my shoulder, and I cuddled with him as my vision went blurry.

The memories may not matter to me anymore, at least not in the way they used to, but they’re mine and I can’t forget them. For the first time in awhile, I thought to myself that it was alright to be sad today, that I had a reason. ***

Yoongi appeared again for his fifth performance, and although I thought the first week he appeared was packed, it was nothing compared to today.

“I see your little group loves you,” I praised him, nudging his shoulder as I set the coffee he asked for on the table next to his seat.

“What can I say? My music is irresistible.” he laughed as he finished setting up his piano in the same spot he had yesterday.

“Yeah, I’m still not sure I know what you mean.” I giggled softly.

“You’re a tough crowd to please, y/n.” He tiled his head to the side and eyed me, “As a true musician, I’m always interested in improving my appeal. What would you say is missing from my repertoire?”

I tapped my chin thoughtfully, “It’s actually pretty well rounded, but I think we’re missing a little bit of that childhood innocence.”

“Childhood innocence?” His eyebrows knitted themselves together as they flew into his hairline. “Care to elaborate?”

I tugged subtly on the lanyard sticking out of my pocket, it was littered with soot sprites, stars, and a certain silver and blue dragon. His eyes drifted to where my hand was fidgeting. “I can think of a couple Studio Ghibli films that could serve as inspiration for next week’s performance.”

“Oh really? I’m not so sure I’m familiar with these movies,” though the upturned corner of his lips said otherwise.

“I’ve got them all on DVD.” I shrugged, picking up the plates and mugs from the table a few feet away.

“If this is an elaborate ruse to invite me over,” he teased, “You have my full attention.”

“Actually, I was leading up to lending you the movies. But seeing as you’re so eager to spend time with me after hours, I might have to reconsider.” With that you drifted away, taking the used dishes and utensils back into the kitchen.

Joking around with Yoongi was far easier than I would have ever expected. Banter bouncing back and forth between us like some invisible game of ping pong.

With a few minutes to spare between taking orders and running checks, I found that my eyes were focused on Yoongi far more often than was probably normal. As his fingers slid easily across the white keys, and the notes drifted out of his keyboard, it was easy to see just why he had such an eager following. His music seemed to lighten up the cafe, and the love I felt reverberate through his music was no joke.

“Seriously your music is amazing!” Gina exclaimed as the rest of the employees gathered up their belongings, getting ready to leave for the day. “You’re telling me you wrote that last piece yourself?” Rhea asked just as intrigued.

Yoongi simply shrugged, his cheeks turning the slightest tinge of pink. “I mean, yeah. But it’s not a big deal.”

I rolled my eyes, though the smile on my face betrayed me. He was humble too? Honestly, did he have any flaws?

I was tending to the last couple of customers we had, hoping to close up before eight when the bell chimed.

“I’m sorry but—“ My breath caught in my throat when I saw his figure standing in the door. “What did I tell you about coming here?” I walked over quickly, pushing Sal out the door.

He gripped my wrist harder than he had the day before. “Listen to me y/n,” his voice feigned sincerity, but his body language was fierce.

“No!” I said strongly, attempting to keep my voice even, so as not to disturb the remaining customers. "I’m done listening to you. Just because she left you, doesn’t mean I’ll just be here to comfort you. I’m done.” I slammed his hands away from me and began walking back to the counter.

I felt Yoongi’s eyes watching my every movement, they had been since the minute Sal walked through the door with a scowl on his face. Sal turned me around forcibly and slapped me across my cheek, it burned like hell. My teeth clenched, and my fist fell into a ball, but before I could return the favor, Sal was knocked to the ground. Yoongi was standing over him, his eyes narrowed and voice strong, “Leave her alone.”

“Who the hell is this?” Sal growled, hopping up and shoving Young’s shoulders. “Your new little boy toy?”

“It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“I’m sorry, was I talking to you?” Sal shoved his shoulders again, hands gripping Youngi’s shirt.

Yoongi swayed in Sal’s hands, though something told me he could easily break free if he wanted to. Biting back a smirking as he glanced at the ground, he rolled his head up to face Sal. I could tell his patience was growing thin. “You asked, I answered. That’s kind of how questions work, isn’t it?” Yoongi shoved Sal, and he stumbled into the countertop. Yoongi turned to face me, “You alright, y/n?”

Sal chuckled darkly before taking a swing at Yoongi, and before I could process what was happening their fists were flying.

“Both of you stop!” I pulled Yoongi off of Sal and looked at his bloody lip, while the other workers held Sal back.

“Go upstairs, okay? I’ll be there in a second.” You slid your lanyard into his hand, and Yoongi huffed, his brown eyes dark, but nodded and silently marched up. I turned to face Sal, "I think its best that you leave Sal. Don’t come back.”

When I got to the top of the stairs I found Yoongi leaning against the wall to my door, fiddling with the keys in his hands.

I softly took it from him and unlocked to the door, pulling it open and motioning for him to follow me inside. He sheepishly did so as I walked him into the small bathroom. I pointed toward the toilet and he willingly took a seat while I sank onto my heels, rummaging through the cabinet for my first aid kit.

“So, why’d you do it?”

“I don’t like seeing women being treated poorly.” He muttered.

I grabbed the tin, before turning toward Yoongi. In the small bathroom, I situated myself between his legs and tilted his chin up with my fingertips so I could get a better look at his wound. Although he seemed like he was relaxed on the edge of the seat, I could see a fire burning in his eyes. I inspected the sliver of a cut on his cheek, and the split on his mouth, and began to tap his lip with the medication. As I began to clean his wound, he winced from the pain at first, then stared at me while I continued.

“Thank you, but I could’ve taken care of it. I can’t let you get hurt in my cafe.” I shot him an apologetic smile, half joking. "It’s not good for business.”

“Oh, is that all? And here I thought you were worried about me.” He cracked a smile, and I was relieved to see he wasn’t entirely frustrated.

“In all seriousness, you shouldn’t have pushed his buttons like that. He wasn’t worth it.”

“What? Sardonic humor is just my way of relating to the world. It’s not my fault he couldn’t appreciate it.”

Yoongi was silent as I threw the used supplies in the trash over his shoulder.

“He’s an ex-right?”

“Not exactly.”

“But, you had liked him? Or he had liked you?” His forehead wrinkled as he tried to piece it together.

"He was my best friend. But you’re right, I did have feelings for him.” *** Three days later, it was Tuesday evening and there was a knock at my door. When I glanced through the door’s window I caught a glimpse of platinum, and I knew right away who it was.

Yoongi smiled sheepishly when I pulled it open.

“What’s up?” I eyed him as I glanced at the clock on the counter at the bottom of the stairs.

“I called you, but you didn’t answer,” He shrugged, “I just wanted to ask you something.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. 3 Missed calls from Yoongi.

“Sorry, it was my day off. Y’know, you could’ve left me a voicemail. You didn’t have to come all the way over here.”

“I don’t leave messages. If I wanted to talk to a machine, I’d talk to my VCR.” The corners of his mouth quirked upward.

“Who has VCR’s nowadays?” My nose wrinkled.

He waved me off and closed his eyes, “That’s not the point. I really just wanted to see if you’d like to hang out?”

I pulled the leg of my pajamas in a nervous fidget. “Depends on what you have in mind?”

“Now listen,” Yoongi put on his most convincing voice as he continued, “Rhea told me you have a day off tomorrow, too. So here’s what I was thinking: an all-nighter, you and me. First, one to fall asleep owes the other breakfast.”

I paused, acting like I was weighing the thought in my mind. Though, if we’re being honest, I’d already made it up the second I opened the door to him.

“You’re on, Yoongi.” I sidestepped and he passed through the entryway, smug grin on his face. “I hope you make good french toast because that’s my favorite thing to eat for breakfast.” He eyed me, as I continued, "I just got up from a nap, so I’m fully ready to kick your ass.”

If we’re being honest, I wasn’t sure how I ended up watching Studio Ghibli films with Yoongi. I wasn’t even sure how I’d let Yoongi into my apartment so easily, normally I’d have fought tooth and nail; made up some excuse about taking Marvin to the vet the next day for his check-up, because there was no way in hell I was letting Yoongi stay overnight, not so he could see what I looked like when I was sleeping, drool pooling on the pillowcase and snores emanating from my chest. But all the same, everything with him was weirdly easy, and just like that he had wormed his way in.

“You know what I like most about people?” He asked as he rubbed Marvin’s temples, and my dog sank into his touch.

“Hm?”

“Their pets.”

I shoved his shoulder. “If you want Marv, you can keep him. He sheds too much, and snores like a horse.”

“Horses snore?” Suga chuckled, and I simply shrugged in return, as I popped the cork off the wine glass.

“Do you want some?”

“Aish. You’re making this too easy. You’re totally going to fall asleep by the time we’re done with the second movie.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Bet. I can handle my alcohol. Now, do you want some or not?”

“I’m not really much for wine, but if you’re the one who’s giving it to me, how could I say no?” *** Three glasses of wine later, and I could feel my cheeks growing rosy. I may or may not have bluffed when Yoongi had teased me earlier, but whether or not that was obvious to his own ruddy face was yet to be determined.

The movie was long forgotten, fading to the background after I caught him quoting a portion of it back to me, and called him out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was a lucky guess!”

“Lucky guess my ass. Just what else don’t I know about you?”

This had somehow transformed into us asking one another questions, in an attempt to bond as he put it. Though most of the questions he posed seemed like they were meant to make me laugh, rather than actually produce a conversation of substance. Which was actually all the better, seeing as I had too much time to think these last couple of days.

“Y/n, if you were a dinosaur, what kind would you be?”

I rolled my eyes and took another sip, “Next question.”

Yoongi raised his hands in mock defense, “I understand, some questions are just too personal,” Yoongi deadpanned, “I apologize.”

“What’s the point of these questions anyway?” I laughed.

“To get to know each other, duh.”

“Fine, do you believe in aliens?”

He scoffed, “Not a chance!”

I motioned toward the door, “Get out, I don’t have time for people who don’t believe in aliens.”

“Oh no, I can tell I just opened a can of worms.” Yoongi shook his head, grinning into his glass. “Let’s just agree to disagree.” His face was suddenly serious he watched the couple onscreen. “What was it you liked about him?”

I shrugged, glancing at the new healing cut on Yoongi’s lip. Far too angry with the ways Sal behaved, nothing of substance came to mind.

“Okay…then what is it that you fall in love with in others, in general?”

“Details.” I answered simply, “I fall in love with details.” I bit my lip and stared at the glass to keep myself from spilling everything I wanted to say. I fall in love with things like your gummy smile, and the way you look when you’re lost in the music.

“So what was it about him then? What were the details?”

My forehead creased as the frozen fruit swirled in my cup. “It’s stupid, but it probably was never about him, really.” I sat up straighter, my legs folding criss-cross underneath myself, and Yoongi mirrored me, sitting straighter as if to show me I had all of his attention. “I’ve always been hungry for love, I think. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it — to be fed so much love that I couldn’t take any more. I just wanted to be enough for someone. Just once. And I think I thought that if I gave enough of myself, got close enough, that he’d have to like me too, never mind that we’re incompatible because I care too much, and he doesn’t care at all.”

“I understand the sentiment,” Yoongi supplied, “It’s difficult when you feel like you share so much of yourself with others, and can only get back a fraction of that in return.” He sighed and rested a hand on mine, “But, sometimes people don’t know how to share their affection with you, and you might come to find that it takes on the weirdest forms. Being loved isn’t always about grand gestures, or kissing in the rain; sometimes it’s giving a stranger coffee he never asked for, or learning hours worth of Studio Ghibli soundtracks because a girl mentioned she liked it once.”

I slapped a hand over my face, “You didn’t.”

He chuckled, “Maybe I did, so what? It doesn’t matter. The point is, he might not have looked at you the way you deserve, but there’s plenty of other people out there who show you they love you every day.”

Things were silent for a moment. “I feel guilty in some ways,” I sighed. “I’ve known him longer than anyone else, enough to know he’s been through a lot. So much as he might deserve it at this point, I still feel guilty.”

“Friendship isn’t about who you’ve known the longest, though. It’s about who walked into your life, said ‘I’m here for you’, and proved it. From the looks of it, he was doing a shitty job at that. You’re better off without him.” Yoongi frowned, “And for the record, you are going to be so much more than ‘enough’ for someone, someday. To be honest, you already are.”

It wasn’t until Yoongi stretched a finger out, swiping a stray tear from my cheek that I realized what was happening. “I don’t even know why I’m crying right now,” I sniffled, hastily wiping the rest, avoiding eye contact with him. “It’s stupid.”

Yoongi tsked softly, his voice light, “I cry all the time! I cry in my bedroom, in the bathroom, in the hallway, in the elevator. In fact this morning, I woke up crying.” He gently pried my hand away from my cheek, turning me to face him.

“Sorry,” I muttered sheepishly.

“Never apologize for being sensitive or emotional. It’s just a sign that you have a big heart and aren’t afraid to let others own a piece of it. Showing your emotions is actually a sign of strength if you ask me. ” I opened my mouth and shut it as quickly as he gave me a look, “Your feelings are valid. You have every right to feel whatever emotion you want. You aren’t being dramatic, and you aren’t over-exaggerating. You’re feeling. And that’s okay.”

I stared at Yoongi, his eyes searching my face as if he wanted to ensure every bit of what he said was absorbed. As his dark eyes took me in, I wondered briefly what they would look like if he fell in love.

“How do you do it?” I asked softly.

“Do what?”

“Feel so comfortable with yourself. Walk around like you don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks.”

“People will either like me, or they won’t. It took me twenty-something years to learn how to love myself, and I don’t have that kinda time to convince somebody else.” He shrugged, sending me a soft smile. “Though, now you have me curious. What did you think of me when you first saw me?”

That you were beautiful. “You had more talent in your hands than anyone else I’ve ever met.”

“Well, that was anticlimactic.”

I rolled my eyes, teasing him. “You’re not satisfied with my answer? I thought you didn’t care what anyone thought?”

He shrugged, “I just don’t think it’s fair I had more of an opinion on you, than you had on me.”

“Okay…so what did you think when you first met me, then?” “I thought to myself, ’She looks like someone I’ll be writing about later.’” *** As it would turn out, Yoongi was far better at making french toast than I’d anticipated. And in the weeks that came and left, it turned out he could cook a myriad of other things too.

He was patient and he was kind, and with each day we spent together I felt like everything that happened with Sal was light years ago.

Don’t get me wrong, there were good days, and there were bad, but it seemed like the rain was finally coming to an end for me. For the most part.

“Here, you need some cheering up.” Yoongi walked into the room as I stacked the last chair, and slid the lock on the front door shut. He connected his phone to my speaker, a music streaming through it moments later.

He grabbed my hands and put his own around my waist, tossing the rag in my hand on the counter. I tensed up, embarrassed.

“I don’t know how to dance Yoongi.”

“It’s okay, I’ll show you!” he started counting, but our feet continued to collide. And he pulled his lip between his teeth in concentration.

“You don’t know how to dance either, do you?” I giggled.

“Of course I do.” He huffed, continuing to count under his breath.

“I thought musicians were supposed to have rhythm?” You teased.

“I took lessons once, okay? I know what I’m doing.”

“When was it, when you were five?”

“I was seven, actually,” He muttered, pouting.

A few steps later and I gave up, taking his hands in mine and swinging his arms in a wild way causing him to laugh.

“That’s not fair I’m supposed to be the one making you laugh, not the other way around!”

I laughed at his ‘frustrated’ body language and we started dancing oddly.

Yoongi smiles and swings me around, and for the first time in awhile, everything seems bearable.

#Yoongi fanfic #BTS fanfic #bts fluff #yoongi x reader #fanfic

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fanficimagery · 7 years

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For neonxxlights on Quotev: Y/n was best friends with Damon but when he turned into a vampire he didn't want to hurt her so he left unknown that she would later turn. Meet years and years later.

Damon X Reader (Long Lost Besties)

1864

Everything was chaos.

Some time in the middle of the night you had woken to screaming, crying and gun fire. Mama had been watching from the front window as she watched everything unfold and Papa had run into the house, eyes wide and face pale as he told the both of you to stay put and not invite anyone into the house.

And then when things had calmed down, it was Papa who had broken the news to you that Damon and Stefan Salvatore were dead. You were heartbroken for Stefan, or Baby Sal as you had taken to calling him, but were confused about Damon's untimely death. On one hand, you hurt for the loss of your best friend, but on the other you were uninterested in the news which greatly surprised your parents because they knew how close you and Damon had been.

Days passed and life returned to normal, and then you had the shock of your life.

Damon, alive and well, sought you out one night. You were angry and confused for being lied to, but a sense of peace overcame you after Damon told you he had to leave. You were to forget his existence, believe he was truly dead, and have a long and happy life. He wished you happiness and after being instructed to close your eyes, you felt the press of lips to your forehead. And when you opened your eyes, you were alone with no memory of what had taken place in the last couple of minutes.

Present 2017

Being back in Mystic Falls is.. different. You haven't been back here since 1867 and though much has changed, your memory hasn't. There are some places you can't even visit, the two most important places being where your house once stood and the Salvatore home.

But Mystic Grill is new territory and you have no problem being in the bar and grill.

The low-lit establishment is packed with customers, especially those there to see Daylighters perform. Daylighters consists of you and a struggling piano player you found in a train station, and with little compulsion you had the perfect human companion for your sudden interest in the music industry. But since you're a vampire, touring is completely out of the question because of all the exposure and eventual attention you would gather. So with that in mind, the two of you happily play only in bars and clubs, and intimate settings.

The stage is already set and as you start walking towards it, you smile and wave at the few who recognize you for who you are. Zachary, your piano player, spots you and taps the Grill's manager on the shoulder to let him know you're ready.

Matt spots you and steps up to the mic. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I can please have your attention." He pauses just long enough until he as the attention of those sitting close to the stage. "As you know, Mystic Grill started having Open Mic Night about two months ago and today we have some very special guests with us, so please give a round of applause for the Daylighters!"

Smiling at the applause and wolf-whistles, you finally climb on stage and briefly hug Matt before he walks off. Stepping up to the mic and dropping it to your level, you say, "Thank you. My friend Zachary and I have been touring off of our own money, so it's still quite a shock to see some familiar faces following us around to listen to our music." A couple of teenage-looking kids whoop from the crowd and you laugh along with those amused at their antics. "I, um, I have some new material I wanted to share you with you tonight. This first song is about coming to feel empathy for someone else even if they hurt you or scare you. It's a song about learning to be proud of the person you are even during low moments when you feel alone. It's also about hoping everyone, even someone who hurt you, can heal.* It's a little different than what I usually sing, not too different, but it's pretty emotional for me and I hope- I hope you enjoy."

There's a tall stool that you drag up to the mic stand o take a seat on and you have to adjust the height of the stand yet again. Once situated you glance over your shoulder at Zachary and give him a nod. His fingers start to move over the black and white keys, and you close your eyes when the melody resonates around the building.

♪♫Well, you almost had me fooled. Told me that I was nothing without you. Oh, but after everything you've done I can thank you for how strong I have become♪♫

The lyrics bring back some painful memories, but after all this time you're finally ready to let go. You've got a long life ahead of you and holding such grudges as a vampire is not healthy for you or for those around you.

♪♫'Cause you brought the flames and you put me through hell. I had to learn how to fight for myself. And we both know all the truth I could tell. I'll just say this is I wish you farewell♪♫

The words pour from your mouth with ease and you can feel the emotion welling in the crowd. Apparently the words resonate with some of those in attendance and you have to bite back a smile at the fact that your song is a success.

♪♫I'm proud of who I am. No more monsters, I can breathe again. And you said that I was done. Well, you were wrong and now the best is yet to come. 'Cause I can make it on my own. And I don't need you, I found a strength I've never known. I'll bring thunder, I'll bring rain, oh-oh. When I'm finished, they won't even know your name♪♫

The music gets a little faster and a lot more emotional. You unhook the mic from it's stand, standing up and pouring everything you have into the song. You pace along the edge of the stage and make eye contact with those you can. Though as you're singing you think you see a very familiar face at the bar that you haven't seen in over a hundred years. You have to try your hardest to keep your voice from cracking, especially on one particular note that gets some of the audience in an excited tizzy.

♪♫I hope you're somewhere prayin', prayin'. I hope your soul is changin', changin'. I hope you find your peace. Falling on your knees, prayin'♪♫

After playing an hour and a half set, you and Zachary give a bow. Zachary stays around to eat a dinner plate Matt had brought up for him and you merely ask for a tray of fries as you keep your eyes peeled for someone in particular. Very few people approach you to ask for pictures and you happily oblige, but soon enough it all becomes a little much. Matt notices and offers you a drink from behind the bar, he then gesturing to the back exit in case you need some fresh air.

You take him up on the offer and after making sure no one is watching you, you make your way outside through the back door. Pulling up your hood, you shove your hands in your pockets and walk around to the front. You walk a ways away from Mystic Grill, and heads towards Town Square to clear your mind.

You manage to walk around for a little while, texting Zachary that you're fine before coming to a stop beneath the illuminated clock tower. You only have a few more moments of peace before approaching footsteps make you tense.

"Excuse me?" A feminine voice calls out.

As you turn around, you see a female dragging a very reluctant and over-dramatic male towards you. Seeing her smiling face and his mock-annoyed one you freeze, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from hissing. Because walking towards you appears to be none other than Katherine Pierce and Damon Salvatore.

You're angry and hurt and confused, but you paste on a false smile as Damon finally looks at you. You see him stumble and freeze as his eyes widen, and you mentally cheer. But Katherine's reaction- that one finally sinks in and confuses the hell out of you. It's like she's actually happy to see you.

"Hi!" She greets. "I was watching your set back at the Grill and wanted to get a picture with you, but you kind of disappeared. And I'm really sorry to bother you, but can my boyfriend snap a quick pic of us?"

"Sure." Looking at Damon, the alien!Katherine looks at him too.

She frowns at his reaction. "..Damon?"

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

He snaps out of it, a slow smirk forming. "Yeah." Then he looks straight at you, his gaze and smirk turning into something rather fond that makes your chest ache. "Sorry for staring. You just- you remind me of someone. What was your name again?"

He's obviously fishing for information and the corner of your lips curl into a grin. You never could play Damon no matter how hard you tried. He always figured you out straight away. "Silly Sal, I was so sure you would have blurted it out the second you saw me." His eyes widen yet again and his girlfriend takes a step away from you.

"Y/N?" You nod and before another word is said, you throw yourself at your long lost best friend and wrap him up in a hug. Your emotions finally get the best of you, tears leaking from your eyes as you chuckle when he squeezes you in return. "But.. how? When?"

Taking a step back from him, you shrug. "1867. Some vampire braved Mystic Falls to get some revenge for one of his friends. I fled as soon as he forced me to complete the transition with mama's blood." Damon's jaw clenches and you see anger flare in his blue eyes. You can't stare at him any longer, so you turn to his companion and try not to attack her. Instead, you merely raise an eyebrow at her. "I gotta say, Katherine, I never thought I'd see the day. You're way more subdued than I remember."

"I- I'm not Katherine." She stammers. "I'm Elena Gilbert. Unfortunate doppelganger."

This time your eyes widen and as you look at Damon who gives you a nod of confirmation, you breathe out a long breath and offer a sheepish smile. "Sorry. Katherine's not my favorite person. I could forgive the asshole who turned me and left me to fend for myself, but I never could forgive her." Elena shrugs it off as no big deal.

"How do you know Katherine?" Damon then wonders.

"She compelled me away from you." Looking at Damon, you see his jaw go slack in shock. "She didn't like that we hung out or the fact that our parents cooed over how cute we were," you say as you roll your eyes. "She got jealous, so she made me slowly distance myself from you so you wouldn't be suspicious."

"Goddammit," Damon snarls.

"Whoa. Hey." Elena interferes while glancing around at those still milling about town. "Calm down. She's dead and Y/N is alive."

"Dead?" You perk up. "Truly?"

"Yes." Elena turns to you, stepping to Damon's side and taking his hand within her own. You smile at her calming gesture.

"So.. if you've been alive all this time, why didn't you look for me?" Damon asks.

You sigh. "I did. Mostly out of anger, at first. Which, by the way, thanks for compelling me, you dick!" You reach forward and punch him in the shoulder, smiling at his grunt of pain. "I found a few leads, but everything went cold in 1953."

"Yeah. I ran into some trouble then. Long story."

"Figured." Silence falls between the three of you, but your throat starts to burn. "So since my next gig isn't until next week, I say we catch up. Do you know any places I can get a bite to.. eat?"

You flash a fangy grin and as Damon chuckles, Elena shakes her head in amusement. "Oh god. There's two of you!"

Author's Note: Before Y/N starts singing, there's a part of her speech that's in bold letters. That bold part is from an article which Kesha was talking about her new song "Praying", the same song I used for this Imagine.

I don't mean to offend anyone, so please don't think I'm in any way mocking Kesha or the reasoning behind her song. I'm very much in love with it and think you should give it a listen if you haven't yet.

#imagine #damon salvatore #damon x reader #damon salvatore imagine #the vampire diaries #tvd #fanficimagery

438 notes · View notes

theonetruewilkipedia · 7 years

Text

Benny Goodman

Liked Songs: 420/452 (.929)

1000-Song Set Influence: 22.085 (1)

1000-Song Set Charting Songs: 61

Sampler Playlist:

https://open.spotify.com/user/rhwilk/playlist/4pz0MgGltgISRIyjYQimii

Complete List of Liked Songs (by ranking, set ranking in parentheses):

Sing, Sing, Sing (1)

Roll 'Em (4)

Bugle Call Rag (5)

Get Happy (6)

One O'Clock Jump (7)

How High The Moon (10)

Flying Home (11)

Puttin' On The Ritz (12)

I Got Rhythm (13)

China Boy (18)

Swingtime In The Rockies (19)

Runnin' Wild (24)

The World Is Waiting For The Sunrise (25)

Jumpin' At The Woodside (33)

After You've Gone (40)

Air Mail Special (45)

Why Don't You Do Right? (48)

I've Found A New Baby (49)

Stompin' At The Savoy (53)

Moonglow (54)

Clarinet a la King (55)

Sweet Georgia Brown (56)

King Porter Stomp (57)

Life Goes To A Party (58)

Down South Camp Meeting (59)

Mission To Moscow (60)

Opus ¾ (61)

Avalon (62)

Diga Diga Doo (63)

Don't Be That Way (64)

Slipped Disc (65)

Seven Come Eleven (66)

Good-Bye (67)

Dizzy Fingers (68)

Dizzy Spells (69)

In A Sentimental Mood (74)

I'm A Ding Dong Daddy (from Dumas) (75)

Pick-a-Rib, Part 1 (78)

Rachel's Dream (84)

Nobody's Sweetheart (85)

Nagasaki (86)

Vibraphone Blues (87)

The Man I Love (88)

Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen, Part 2 (89)

Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen, Part 1 (90)

Alicia's Blues (91)

Blue Skies (92)

Body And Soul (93)

Benny Rides Again (98)

Stealin' Apples (102)

Vieni, Vieni (103)

Tiger Rag (104)

Harvard Blues (112)

The Sheik Of Araby (119)

Somebody Stole My Gal (124)

Dinah (125)

Benny Sent Me (126)

Loch Lomond (127)

Marching And Swinging (131)

Margie (132)

Killer Diller (137)

Goody Goody

Goodnight, My Love

Tea For Two

St. Louis Blues

Sugar Foot Stomp

All The Cats Join In

All I Do Is Dream Of You

Brussels Blues

Oh! Baby

Oh Gee, Oh Joy

On The Sunny Side Of The Street

Sing Me A Swing Song (And Let Me Dance)

A String Of Pearls

Blues In The Night

Where Or When

Them There Eyes

Superman

Jersey Bounce

Honeysuckle Rose

Opus ½

Smooth One

Shine

Oh, Lady Be Good

Christopher Columbus

It's Only A Paper Moon

Trigger Fantasy

The Earl

Who Cares?

When The Sun Comes Out

Little White Lies

Memories Of You

Limehouse Blues

Let's Dance

Everybody Loves My Baby

After Hours

Ridin' High

Rock Rimmon

Somebody Loves Me

My Gal Sal

Big John's Special

Batunga Train

Dear Old Southland

Bumble Bee Stomp

Moten Swing

Something New

Sunny Disposish

Sometimes I'm Happy

I Know That You Know

Peckin'

Someday, Sweetheart

Blue Lou

Confessin' (That I Love You)

Caravan

Bye Bye Blues

Blue Room

Ebony Concerto: III. Moderato – Con moto – Moderato – Vivo

Down, Down, Down

Happy Session Blues

And The Angels Sing

Minnie's In The Money

Rose Room

I Want To Be Happy

What A Difference A Day Makes

Walk, Jennie, Walk

Anything Goes

Basin Street Blues

Concerto for Clarinet and String Orchestra, with Harp and Piano

Blue (And Broken Hearted)

Deed I Do

Clarinet Marmalade

There'll Be Some Changes Made

The Blues In Your Flat

The Glory Of Love

The Blues In My Flat

The Wang Wang Blues

Pick-a-Rib, Part 2

Not A Care In The World

Night Wind

Send In The Clowns (A Little Night Music)

If I Had You

Whispering

Crazy Rhythm

Who?

Sweet Sue – Just You

That's A-Plenty

The Yam

I Never Knew

House Hop

I Would Do Most Anything For You

I'm Coming Virginia

I Surrender Dear

Six Flats Unfurnished

Always

Ain't Misbehavin'

Broadway

At Sundown

At The Darktown Strutters Ball

Time On My Hands

There's A Small Hotel

You Brought A New Kind Of Love To Me

Wholly Cats

Yarm Yen / In The Evening

Star Dust

Take Another Guess

Have You Met Miss Jones?

I Cried For You

When You're Smiling

When Buddha Smiles

Wrapping It Up

Handful Of Keys

Down By The River

On The Alamo

Prelude, Fugue and Riffs for Solo Clarinet and Jazz Ensemble: Fugue for the Saxes

That Naughty Waltz

This Is My Lucky Day

Ti-Pi-Tin

This Can't Be Love

Sweet Lorraine

I Must Have That Man

Jingle Bells

You're Blase

You Turned The Tables On Me

Josephine

Blue And Sentimental

Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea

Everything I've Got Belongs To You

Minnie The Moocher's Wedding Day

Soft Lights And Sweet Music

Sent For You Yesterday And Here You Come Today

Nice Work If You Can Get It

Prelude, Fugue and Riffs for Solo Clarinet and Jazz Ensemble: Riffs for Everyone

Riffin' At The Ritz

Sweet Leilani

Soon

Speak Low

If I Could Be With You

Night And Day

Concerto in A for Clarinet and Orchestra, K. 622: Rondo: Allegro

Farewell Blues

I'm Just Wild About Harry

What Can I Say After I Say I'm Sorry

Yes! We Have No Bananas

In The Mood

All My Life

Jam Session

I Ain't Got Nobody

I Got It Bad (And That Ain't Good)

I'll Never Be The Same

I'm Livin' In A Great Big Way

Indiana

The Dixieland Band

Shoe Shine Boy

Mel's Idea

Macedonia Lullaby

My Melancholy Baby

No, Baby, No

Shirt Tail Stomp

She's A Latin From Manhattan

Royal Garden Blues

As Long As I Live

3 Little Words

Bye Bye Pretty Baby

But Not For Me

Makin' Whoopee

Madhouse

People

No Love No Nothin'

Nobody

Smiles

Sai Fon / Falling Rain

Rosetta

Somebody Else Is Taking My Place

These Foolish Things Remind Me Of You

Taking A Chance On Love

Too Good To Be True

Thai Royal Anthem

Symphony

It's Been So Long

Have You Met My Wife

Sandman

Concerto in A for Clarinet and Orchestra, K. 622: Allegro

Clap Hands! Here Comes Charley

Bewitched

Back Home Again In Indiana

Hunkadola

Hooray For Love

If Dreams Come True

I Was Lucky

Japanese Sandman

You're A Sweetheart

When I Grow Too Old To Dream

You Can Depend On Me

Yesterday

Winter Weather

Bach Goes To Town

Alexander's Ragtime Band

Frankie And Johnny

Please Be Kind

Organ Grinder's Swing

Eeny Meeny Miney Mo

Ev'rytime We Say Goodbye

'S Wonderful

How Am I To Know?

I See A Million People

I Get A Kick Out Of You

How Long Has This Been Going On?

Whispers In The Dark

Devil In The Moon

Get Rhythm In Your Feet

Camel Hop

Blue Hawaii

Blue Moon

Quintet in A for Clarinet and Strings, K. 581: Allegro con Varazioni

Liza (All The Clouds'll Roll Away)

Just One Of Those Things

Sensation Rag

Quintet in A for Clarinet and Strings, K. 581: Allegro

Poor Butterfly

When It's Sleepy Time Down South

When A Lady Meets A Gentleman Down South

In The Shade Of The Old Apple Tree

All Of Me

Clarinet Concerto: I. Cadenza (freely)

More Than You Know

Moonlight On The Highway

Moonlight Serenade

Laughing At Life

Medley: Don't Be That Way / Stompin' At The Savoy / And The Angels Sing / Why Don't You Do Right / A String Of Pearls

Love Dropped In For Tea

Lullaby In Rhythm

Shady Lady Bird

Ramona

Pick Yourself Up

Restless

Trees

That's The Way It Goes

It Had To Be You

Here's Love In Your Eyes

He Ain't Got Rhythm

How Deep Is The Ocean?

Concerto in A for Clarinet and Orchestra, K. 622: Adagio

Don't Blame Me

Chloe (Song of the Swamp)

A Gal In Calico

Mean To Me

Love Me Or Leave Me

Lovely To Look At

Lazy River

Clarinet Concerto: II. Rather fast

Only Another Boy And Girl

Oh! Look At Me Now

Remember

Clarinet Concerto: I. Slowly and expressively

Chicago

Quintet in A for Clarinet and Strings, K. 581: Menuetto

Pardon My Love

Riffin' The Scotch

You're Giving Me A Song And A Dance

You're A Heavenly Thing

Sugar (That Sugar Baby Of Mine)

Thanks For The Memory

I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face

Ida! Sweet As Apple Cider

Every Little Moment

Exactly Like You

A Fine Romance

Breakin' In A Pair Of Shoes

Ballad In Blue

Derivations for Clarinet and Band: II. Contrapuntal Blues

Did You Mean It?

Brahms' Clarinet Quintet (Op. 115)

'Tain't No Use

Flat Foot Floogee

Cherokee

Changes

Amapola (Pretty Little Poppy)

Cabin In The Sky

Can't Teach My Old Heart New Tricks

Autumn Nocturne

Silhouetted In The Moonlight

Life Is A Song (Cette Chanson est pour Vous)

Not Mine

I Hope Gabriel Likes My Music

You Can't Pull The Wool Over My Eyes

Yours

I Love A Piano

Hard To Get

Gotta Be This Or That

Everything I Love

Ebony Concerto: II. Andante

Elmer's Tune

My Guy's Come Back

Please Don't Talk About Me When I'm Gone

Medley: I've Got A Right To Sing The Blues / I Hadn't Anyone Till You

Hot Foot Shuffle

Sweet Little You

The Way You Look Tonight

The Moon Won't Talk

I Can't Give You Anything But Love

When We're Alone

The Fable Of The Rose

Sweet And Lovely

Never Should Have Told You

Close As Pages In A Book

Can't We Be Friends

Peace, Brother!

Pennies From Heaven

Shake Down The Stars

Somebody Nobody Loves

That Did It, Marie

Tangerine

You Can Tell She Comes From Dixie

You Couldn't Be Cuter

Quintet in A for Clarinet and Strings, K. 581: Larghetto

Peter Piper

No Other One

Busy As A Bee

Beale Street Blues

Mama, That Moon Is Here Again

Lover Come Back To Me

What's The Matter With Me?

What's New?

Yours Is My Heart Alone

When My Baby Smiles At Me

Someone To Watch Over Me

This Year's Kisses

Swift As The Wind

Stairway To The Stars

Mood Indigo

AC-DC Current

A Room Without Windows

My Old Flame

Derivations for Clarinet and Band: I. Warm-up

Blue Reverie

Derivations for Clarinet and Band: IV. Ride-Out

Begin The Beguine

I Want A Little Girl

It Never Entered My Mind

It's Tight Like That

Ebony Concerto: I. Allegro moderato

Mister Meadowlark

My Last Goodbye

I'm Nobody's Baby

Yankee Doodle Never Went To Town

Who's Sorry Now

Hartford Stomp

It's Always You

Santa Claus Came In The Spring

Serenade In Blue

To Each His Own

Hold Tight

I Thought About You

I Hadn't Anyone 'Til You

Prelude, Fugue and Riffs for Solo Clarinet and Jazz Ensemble: Prelude for the Brass

Contrasts for Violin, Clarinet and Piano: III. Sebes

Derivations for Clarinet and Band: III. Rag

Doin' What Comes Naturally

Contrasts for Violin, Clarinet and Piano: II. Piheno

Contrasts for Violin, Clarinet and Piano: I. Verbunkos

#artists #benny goodman

0 notes

readingfordummies · 7 years

Text

Witches of East End - Chapter Nine

Love The One You’re With

Bran was back from his trip abroad and would arrive in North Hampton by ten o'clock that evening. Freya asked Kristy Hannagan, a bartender Sal had hired over the summer to pick up the slack, to cover her shift; otherwise she would have to work until last call as usual. Kristy's family had worked the shore for generations, her father and brothers on the lobster trawlers, while her boyfriend fished for tuna they sold at auction to Japanese food vendors. She was a flint-eyed dame, with a sharp tongue and an easy smile, and had fast become one of Freya's closest friends in town.

"You don't mind, do you, Kris?" Freya asked.

Kristy shook her head and gave her a wide smile. "Not at all. If I had a guy like that I'd take off for the night, too. Go on, now." Kristy was twice divorced and had four kids under the age of five. She compared her work at the bar to arguing with a bunch of toddlers. "I'll man the ship."

"I owe you one," Freya promised, playfully bumping Kristy's hip on the way to the ladies' room so she could freshen up. Bran was going to walk into the bar at any minute. Freya splashed water on her face, to try to rub the guilt out of it. She was dreading seeing him but couldn't put it off any longer. This was the first time they would see each other since celebrating their engagement. (And, boy, did she ever celebrate, she thought, thinking of Killian and kicking herself again.)

He was waiting for her when she returned to the bar, sitting at his usual barstool, a newspaper spread in front of him, looking fresh and manly in his dark suit and red tie. "There you are," he said, pulling her close and squeezing her waist. "Remind me never to leave you ever again," he said as he lowered his head under her chin.

She laughed and squeezed back. "I'm sorry you had to wait, but Sal's not feeling well and I had to wait until Kristy's babysitter arrived." She was glad to find that upon seeing Bran, she felt exactly the same way: that same warm, solid love that had drawn her to him in the first place. It was still there. He was the one she'd been waiting for, all these long years. She nuzzled his head and pressed her body closer to his, liking the immediate jump in his heartbeat that resulted. It had been a very long time since she'd felt this way.

"Is it serious? Poor Sal," Bran asked, concerned, tapping his gold ring with the family crest.

"He'll be all right," she said. "He's stubborn and won't take his allergy medicine."

"Ha!" Bran nodded. Even if Bran had only recently arrived in town, Freya took it as a good sign that Sal had given him his seal of approval when they announced their engagement. Not only because Bran was the only one who professed to like Sal's homemade moonshine, although it never hurt. "He's a quiet one, your boy," Sal had once told her. "One of those people that take a while to get to know. I like that. Not like all these meatheads who talk your head off and say nothing."

"How was the meeting? Is all the money gone yet?" she teased. His goal, he had told Freya, was to give away his inheritance to those who needed it more.

"Almost." He laughed. "Working on it."

"I guess we're not Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy - carriages and Pemberley will not be a part of my future." She sighed dramatically, as his hand around her waist inched a little below her jeans, rubbing the skin underneath, marking his territory, letting the world know she was his. Not so shy anymore, was he.

"I hope it's not too disappointing," Bran said with a grin, as he already knew the answer. "What's this?" he asked, picking up one of the new laminated cocktail menus.

"Oh, it's nothing," she said, shrugging, even though she was proud of it. After her success with the Baumans, she had been encouraged to expand her reach. Her new cocktail menu at the North Inn bar was an immediate hit, and it was not difficult to see why. Love Potions, it announced in big pink letters, seventeen dollars ea. Sal's only comment about the new menu was that if she was going to use top-notch liquor and fresh ingredients, she should charge for them.

Infatuation: A blend of hibiscus rosewater and English gin. Turn heads for the evening and inspire a burning affection.

Irresistible: Vodka, pureed cherries, powdered cattail, and lime juice. Not for the shy. Prepare to lose your inhibitions.

Unrequited: St. Germain liqueur, honeyed lavender, and Prosecco. Stop longing and start loving. Guaranteed to fulfill your heart's desire.

Forever: Two glasses of the best French champagne, with crushed daisy petals. For those hoping to rekindle their passion for each other.

"It's just something I put together for Sal," she said, hoping he wouldn't ask her too many questions.

"Good stuff," he said, sliding it away. "Everything you touch turns into gold." Only Bran could say things like that without it sounding corny. "By the way, I hope that party didn't scare you away too much." His forehead wrinkled. "Did you have fun?"

"It was beautiful," Freya said. "I don't scare easy, so don't worry." She felt a slight shiver of anxiety and wished he hadn't brought it up, as an image of Killian, the two of them locked in a tight embrace, suddenly came to mind. She turned away from Bran for a moment, her hair hiding her suddenly red face.

"So what did you think of that no-good brother of mine?" he asked, his smile fading slightly.

"He's all right," Freya said, hoping to change the subject. Luckily Bran didn't seem to notice anything wrong. They left the bar and walked to his car, holding hands, both of them quietly happy to be together.

They took the bridge over to Gardiners Island, and Freya was amazed again at how well Fair Haven and its surrounding grounds looked. She knew Bran had overseen the design changes and had kept much of the island's natural growth intact, without disturbing the wildlife or the flora. He parked the car in the garage and turned to her as he cut the engine. "Listen, I know everything's happened so fast. . . . If you need to change anything, if you change your mind . . . I'll understand. I can wait for you. I just want you to be happy." Then he looked at her with those kind brown eyes of his and she fell in love with him even more. Close up, he was starting to have fine lines around his eyes, but it only made him look more admirable. "I want you to be sure of me."

"Sweetheart." She sighed. "I'm not sure of anything but you." She pulled him in for a kiss, and she understood then why she had agreed to marry him after knowing him for less than a month. Of all the guys she had ever met in her immortal life, he was the only one who made her feel this safe. She who spread love only felt loved herself with his strong arms around her.

Fair haven was dark and hidden, but Bran chose not to turn on any of the overhead lights. "Shhh . . ." he said. "Let's not wake Madame Grobadan."

"Let's not!" Freya agreed. Madame might have been the boys' stepmother, but she had basically raised them and remained a difficult presence in Bran's life. Freya was half-afraid of her, and had let her run the engagement party and make all the decisions, quietly accepted without protesting to her strict demands. Madame loved the boys like her own, and with her intimidating posture and dismissive attitude, she was in some ways even more frightening than a real mother-in-law.

If possible, the house looked more impressive than it had at the party, with its massive open spaces empty of people. The grand piano gleamed in the moonlight, and Bran opened the French doors so they could hear the sound of the ocean. The house was so large, the main hall could hold an army, and the residential wing might as well have been in a whole other zip code. Freya walked over to the bar cart and made Bran a martini, extra dry. The bottled olives looked a little tiny, but with a tap of her finger they turned juicy and plump. She fed him the olives one by one and he downed the drink in one gulp.

Bran set the glass aside then sat in one of the chairs by the fireplace and loosened his tie, which was his way of telling her he wanted her to sit on his lap. He had been so unsure and hesitant in the beginning, as if not quite daring to believe that she would indulge him. His masculine gentleness was so appealing, and she quickly straddled him, so that her long, thick, curly hair brushed his face. He pulled her down to him hungrily, and soon his hands were slipping her dress above her head and she was unbuckling his belt and helping him kick off his pants.

"But what about . . . ?" she asked. "Should we move to your room?"

"They're miles away and asleep. . . . We'll be quiet," he whispered.

In the moonlight her body looked as perfect as a statue; when she sank herself on him her breath caught at the rush of feeling, of being broken and taken, as they moved gently together, so that with each thrust she felt as if she were opened again. He groaned, his face tense with desire as he picked her up, the two of them still joined; then they were on the floor and he was turning her over, so that she was kneeling with her back in front of him, her head in her hands, thrilling at the way he held her by the waist, the way he pushed himself into her, his hands strong as he moved her every which way, now on her back, now on her stomach, now on top, mastering his strength and keeping her gasping. He was always in control, and she had never met anyone who made her feel quite as . . .

Well no, that wasn't quite true, now, was it . . . ?

There was someone else who . . .

She pushed the image from her head . . . but there it was. . . .

Killian, with his strong hands under her skirt, as she unzipped his jeans. . . .

It didn't belong there . . . especially not now. . . . Why was she even thinking of him? She didn't want this. She didn't want to think of him at all, and certainly not at this particular moment, but she couldn't help but remember . . . how she'd been on her knees, how she'd taken him in her mouth, had tasted him, and Killian had pushed himself against her and she thought she might explode from desire. . . .

No . . . stop . . . please. . . . She had to stop thinking about it . . . had to stop dreaming about it . . . had to stop thinking about him. . . .

Then she was straddling Bran again, his hands on her breasts, and her hands on his, massaging and pinching. They clenched fists and she ground her hips on his lap, keeping the frantic, rhythmic pace . . . and she willed Killian's image away . . . trying to focus instead on Bran's handsome face, on his body and his lust. . . .

But against her will, the other face came back to her mind. . . .

She couldn't help it, the wrongness of it, of what she had done the other night at her own engagement party - the two of them against the small bathroom wall, her legs around Killian's waist as he pushed himself deeper into her - combined with what she was doing now . . . and she moaned and lost herself in the wicked sensation of being with one man while thinking of another. . . . She bit her lip and lost control as her body shook with spasms. . . .

At the same time, below her, Bran let out a magnificent roar (so much for being quiet!) and slammed his body against her again and again and again until he shuddered and was still and they collapsed into each other, her body feeling the ache of longing as he pulled out from her so slowly.

Bran kissed her on the cheek in a sweet gesture of gratitude, as if unable to believe the extent of his luck. Freya smiled to feel his lips on her skin, her whole body trembling, and when she opened her eyes, she saw a figure move in the shadow of the hallway.

They were not alone, after all.

Someone had been watching them - someone with the dark hair and glittering, aquamarine eyes of the man who had enchanted her only in her mind.

But when she looked again, Killian was gone.

#woee

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