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thesportssoundoff · 4 years

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“For Christmas I Want....” What the UFC needs per division in 2020

Joey

December 10th

Right around now the majority of us are desperately chasing down gift ideas and huddling our cash together to try and budget it out for the people we care about evenly. In MMA, December means that for one month we spend 31 days pretending that everything's going to be fine in MMA. That the sins of 2019 are gone and won't re-emerge in 2020 and we are about to embark on another insane run like 2015 or 2016. MMA's changing, growing and expanding and shrinking and evolving and degrading all at once around us and so as we embark upon what should be a hectic 2020, I wanted to take a light hearted approach at examining what 2020 will be. What would the UFC request that the MMA Gods give them in 2020? What are the divisions asking for on their Christmas lists? Let's run down what each division is secretly wishing for when we enter the next year of MMA stupidity.

Flyweight and Women's Featherweight- A bullet

Simply put, both of these divisions would probably be better suited if the UFC just put them out of their misery. 2019 started with a UFC flyweight roster rapidly approaching the single digits and a threat of TJ Dillashaw stepping in to kill the division outright. It ends with a roster of fighters still not too far off the single digits with a champion who seems disinterested in defending the title and clearly has the plans to move up to 135 lbs full time. The likelihood is that the flyweight division will get a title fight or two and then fade off into obscurity as there's no real prospects of note, Benavidez as champion has long lost any luster and the Cejudo good vibes are dead and buried. For women's featherweight, it was a golden carrot to get Cyborg to stop feuding with the organization that hired her. The Cyborg championship era lasted all of two fights and the Amanda Nunes run with the title is dead and/or bloated. Nunes having a token title defense vs Megan Anderson might appease some folks but there's been no development and no real sign of progress. Let these divisions go and let Bellator and Brave/ONE find stuff for them to do.

Men's Bantamweight- Some sizzle for this steak

The UFC's 135 lb division has been one of the more promising developments over the past few years. While it took a slight step backwards for me in 2019, I still think this division is among the best in MMA even if it ranks slightly behind 170 and 155 lbs. There's depth, new talent, a variety of names and faces and personalities and barring something unforseen 20120 figures to keep the pace overall. What it needs in 2020 is for this division to finally get an ROI on some big time names. Henry Cejudo is a promising potential draw at the lighter weight classes but I think he's still going to need help to reach the high end mark on his upside. That requires some names to step up and give him an assortment of fun new challenges. Dominick Cruz needs to get healthy because Cejudo vs Cruz verbally at least has some compelling appeal to it. Cody Garbrandt still has SOME name value and I think if he goes on a streak, we'll see an reset in terms of how fans view him. Jose Aldo and Urijah Faber need to find ways to win tough fights and maintain in the title picture because while I may not care for Cejudo/Aldo or Cejudo/Faber, there are fans who very clearly love these guys and would be absolutely up for seeing them try to capture the title from Cejudo. Guys like MArlon Moraes, Sean O'Malley and Petr Yan need to continue to develop new fanbases and keep up their stretch of exciting fights. This division has a lot of talent but it might need to get a bit greedy in search of some big money fights.

Featherweight- A definitive Max Holloway solution

The UFC spent most of 2018 having open discussions about whether or not Max Holloway was long for the 145 lb division. They talked a bunch about wanting him to move up due to intense weight cuts, saw him move up and then immediately bailed on the idea when he fought Dustin Poirier. My take is that Holloway is still probably destined for 155 lbs and one loss to Dustin Poirier (who is a naturally monstrous dude at 155 lbs) shouldn't deter them. If Max Holloway is hurting his long term health at 145 lbs but may be "too small" for 155 lbs then he'll just need to adapt to that and overcome that the same way Frankie Edgar has done for years. Figuring out what Holloway will be doing in 2020 will probably be aided by the Volkanovski fight but even if Alexander Volkanovski becomes the latest 145 lber to come up short vs Max Holloway, I'm still not convinced I need to see Max toiling at featherweight. As a bonus item or a stocking stuffer if ya will, it SURE would be nice to see the likes of Zabit, Yair Rodriguez, Shane Burgos and Calvin Kattar continue to clear out the 145 lbers who have been sort of lingering in the same spots since about 2016 or so.

Lightweight- For their stars to actually fight

Easy enough, right? The UFC's lightweight division revolves around three names; Conor McGregor, Khabib Nurmamegodov and Tony Ferguson. I'd almost argue that Tony Ferguson is a level behind Dustin Poirier drawing wise but I think at peak value, those three guys make this division hum and draw the big numbers. Not even playing the "these guys fight three times a year!" card, the UFC got two fights out of those three guys and one of those (Ferguson vs Cerrone) was a desperation heave at the last minute. If this division is going to go places then Khabib needs to fight more, Conor needs to stay out of trouble and Tony Ferguson needs to come close to resembling the pace he had in 2016 and 2017. Even accounting for Khabib taking time off for Ramadan, this division cannot exist with THIS much talent in it without more fights from those three guys. I guess you could even throw in Justin Gaethje who expects to sit out until the Tony vs Khabib fight happens. You can't have 4 of your top 5 guys not doing anything with so much talent to be tested up and down the rankings.

Welterweight- A break

The welterweight division is the world's dumbest MMA riddle. It sure seems to trumpet out a finish or a "What the fuck is happening?!" fight on a per show basis better than any other division out there. I mean off the top of my head you have Vicente Luque, Tim Means, Mike Perry, Elizeu Zaleski, Niko Price, Geoff Neal, Robbie Lawler, Jorge Masvidal, Santiago Ponzinibbio, Muslim Salikhov, Matt Brown and that doesn't even begin to account for some of the dudes I can't remember off the top of my head. This division is loaded with dudes who exist to hit each other in the head really hard over and over and over until somebody falls down. It's the world's cruelest division in terms of raw violence. Unfortunately at the top of the division, we've basically had the same 4-5 guys hogging up spots and they more often than not tend to bring us fights that fall on the wrong side of the entertainment scale. Even if you like Kamaru Usman, Leon Edwards, Tyron Woodley and Colby Covington, you have to admit you're probably exhausted by four dudes with similar styles and similarly cringy trash talk skills sucking up all the air and hype in this division. The UFC could really use a break from these folks in 2020. If Edwards/Woodley and Usman/Covington go off without a hitch, it'd be nice for us to get somebody new and fun in there just to allow us all the chance to mentally reset. Maybe that's Jorge Masvidal even!

Middleweight- More Israel Adesanya

The UFC has been very fortunate with the health of its breakout star of sorts. Since coming to the UFC at the start of 2018, Israel Adesanya has fought four times one year and three times the next. He's been busy and consistent and either healthy or healthy enough to always make the walk. With some much instability around him, the UFC really needs Adesanya to continue to take fights throughout 2020. If the goal is to do Adesanya vs Jones then he needs to have AT LEAST two fights prior to this (say March and July of 2020) against top competition. Yoel Romero is seemingly going to be one of those guys and you'd assume a healthy Paulo Costa is the other. The goal should be to keep Adesanya busy because you won't have his freshness and ability to fight consistently forever.

Light heavyweight- A genuine Jones challenger

I feel like it speaks to the pain of 205 lbs that Jon Jones' two title fights were against former 185 lbers who had casually beaten the shit out of the guys who once held pole positions in the division without much challenge. 2019 was a weird year for the division as it felt old, stagnant and perhaps worst of all directionless. If you honestly asked the UFC, I'd bet they'd say privately that the biggest disappointment of 2019 revolved around the fact that the fighters they probably expected to move up and provide fresh challenges all failed. Chris Weidman was smoked by Dom Reyes, Jan Blachowicz retired Luke Rockhold, Jacare Souza's 2019 was abysmal and his LHW debut left nobody impressed while Yoel Romero and Anderson Silva stayed home at 185 lbs. If one was to remove Dominick Reyes from the conversation, the next in line would be two guys who have pretty much failed historically when given a major step up (Jan Blachowicz is not too far removed from a four fight losing streak and Corey Anderson has been KO'd by the likes of Gian Villante and Jimi Manuwa) while the likes of Nikita Krylov, Misha Cirkunov, Khalil Rountree and that one polish dude (Michal Oluwalewalebangbang) all sort of did nothing. Even prized prospect Johnny Walker had a topsy turvy 2019 punctuated by getting smelted by Corey Anderson. The UFC needs to end 2020 with one of two things set in stone; 1) A genuine challenge for Jon Jones or 2) an understanding that Jon will be leaving the division for good and the UFC will finally have to invest resources into rebuilding this morbid division.

Heavyweight- More of the same, baby.

Seriously. This division is A-ok. You got a bunch of new dudes beating the shit out of each other, every year 2-3 new doughy guys show up and make a bit of an impact, a new HW to get giddy about from Brazil or Europe or Russia every few months and the likes of Alistair Overeem, Derrick Lewis, Stefan Struve and Andrei Arlovski to tie this shit all together. Let's keep HW happy and dumb, right? The only complaint could be had in every division really; have your champs fighting more.

Women's Strawweight- ALSO more of the same

Seriously this division has really become one of the best in MMA full stop. It still has the well earned reputation of being a decision division but if one wants to be honest, the depth at the top of this place is UNREAL good. Joanna, Zhang, Andrade, Namajunas, Suarez and Ansaroff on their own merits are as strong a top six as any division can offer. Throw in a healthy mix of ladies like Alexa Grasso, Claudia Gadelha, Randa Markos, Carla Esparza, Cynthia Calvillo and Marina Rodriguez and you've got great depth below that. Even if there isn't an influx of exciting fun new names (I think Virna Jirandoba and Brianna Van Buren are really the only two new debutants worth really getting excited over), there's plenty of talent o be had here. This is MMA's most unpredictable division so keep giving us wacky madness then.

Women's Flyweight- An identity

I guess you could sum up a division by its champion and clearly Valentina Shevchenko is the perfect face for this division. She's really talented, sometimes compelling as a fighter but you can't name anything about her besides "She killed Jessica Eye and she has a bullet tattoo!" At this point, what could you say about the women's flyweight division? What's their identity? What makes the women's flyweight division unique? Is it not just a grab bag of fighters too small for 135 lbs, too big for 115 lbs and prospects who are still trying to cut their teeth throughout the division? Women's flyweight fights just feel like they exist, adding nothing but always appearing on shows. What's the key to figuring out this division? They need an identity that gets fans to better understand it.

Women's Bantamweight- Depth beyond Amanda Nunes

I think there's a really good chance that barring the emergence of some faces, this division will not see a woman on the same level of Amanda Nunes, GDR and Holly Holm. What this division needs is depth because Holly Holm is one foot out the door and GDR has already retired once already. Just sign a bunch of ladies!

#MMA #UFC

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snowbellewells · 6 years

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Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)

Hello Everyone! I’m presenting the first installment of my second CSSNS offering: my werewolf MC. The idea for this fic has been in my head a long time, but I really needed this event to finally make me put pen to paper and give it a try. Though I love reading werewolves in stories, I haven’t really tried to write them myself before – so I hope I have done it justice. Also, don’t think I’ve forgotten that this is a CS event, just because Killian doesn’t physically appear in this prologue. You get a hint that he’s nearby, and I promise you’ll see him soon.

** Other things to note: Graham (and a few other characters from earlier in the show’s run) play larger parts in this divergence from early season two than they did in canon. If it seems like there’s a lot of set up in this first bit, that’s why. I’m trying to explain how some of them are still around and how it fits together differently from canon. Basically – in most respects – we’re at very early season two, the curse has just lifted and everyone knows who they are again, except Graham is still alive (how gets answered as we go along) and Emma and MM don’t go through the portal to the Enchanted Forest. Rumple never turns the wraith loose on Regina because Belle hasn’t been found; therefore the portal isn’t open for Emma to be pulled into.

I don’t hate Regina. However, it did bother me that she never even had to apologize or show real remorse for what she did to Graham – nor did it makes sense to me that no one ever seemed to figure it out, even once the curse broke and they knew magic existed. Since Graham is still around in this and has his memories, what happened comes out, and Regina does stay more of that conflicted, but still vindictive and dangerous, character we saw in season one and throughout season two.

I think that’s it for now… I hope you will enjoy and come back next week. I aim to post every Friday for the duration of the story, which as of now I am estimating will be around 10 to 12 chapters.

Don’t forget to send @wingedlioness some major praise and flailing for her AWESOME art to go along with this. The two she did for this first part make me feel like my fic has a movie poster!! (I only pray it lives up to the hype!!) She did others for me that I will post with the parts of the story they accompany.

Tagging: @cssns @kmomof4 @laschatzi @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @linda8084 @bmbbcs4evr @ps1473-4 (Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for this fic as well.)

By: @snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

~~ prologue: leaves on the wind

The crisp fall air of late September blew Emma Swan’s long, golden curls back over her shoulders and off her neck, tangling them together and causing a shiver to skitter through her as the chilly breeze of early evening glanced along her bared skin. Even as she clattered down the front steps of the diner, eager to get out of the rather close and over-warm space and the heavy, grease-scented air, she still felt it: the sense that had been following her around lately, more than any simple gossip or slander would account for, resting heavy on her shoulder, of being watched. Glancing around the outdoor seating area of Granny’s and down the quiet main street, deserted but for a few leaves blown here and there and Marco tinkering with the sign that hung over the door of his repair shop and pausing on his ladder to offer her a friendly wave and doff of his cap.

Emma tried to shrug off the troubling impression; eerie though it was, she wasn’t sure that it wasn’t just some manifestation of her own jumbled thoughts and fears, a tingling in her bones that had been discomforting her ever since the curse broke, almost a week ago now. Willing her hard-earned nerve and bravado to reassert themselves, Emma rolled her eyes at herself and how she had just mentally referred to the curse that had changed everything she’d come to know on its head as casually as if it were laundry day or a trip to the movies – just a regular little life-altering occurrence – and gathered the still warm carryout bags Ruby had pressed into her arms just a moment before closer to her chest as she picked up her brisk pace down the sidewalk. Something in her psyche wanted to kick her for running as she left Storybrooke’s most popular eatery behind her, but Emma honestly wasn’t in the mood.

The tiny hairs along the back of her neck prickled as she crossed the opening of the alley between Gold’s pawn shop and the library. She threw a glance down the dim space, but told herself to relax and blew out a frustrated breath before squaring her shoulders and moving on. Whatever sort of creepy premonition vibe she was picking up on lately, it simply had to be in her head. For one thing, this was the smallest, sleepiest, stuck-in-the-eighties town ever; beyond fights at the local watering hold between whom she now knew were three of her mom’s dwarves and guys she had learned were Jack Sprat, Tom Thumb and a definitely not-so-little Jack Horner, and the occasional clichéd kitten up a tree, nothing ever happened here – or at least, nothing of the normal criminal variety. Besides, she already knew who the supposed villains were – and she was well-acquainted with the fact that skulking around subtly wasn’t any of their styles.

No, the sense she felt was probably that same one she had experienced some time back, when Mayor Mills had run her smear campaign trying to overturn Emma’s appointment as deputy. Then, it had been judgmental eyes on her back and whispers that ceased when she walked into a room; now it was awkwardly hushed awe and averted eyes or slight bows when she tried to approach a group casually, and still the constant scrutiny – ill meant or not – and whispers, probably about how unprincess-like she, as their long lost princess, had turned out to be. In any case, the way it made Emma’s skin crawl uncomfortably really didn’t change that much from one case to the other.

Curling she and Graham’s dinner more protectively into her elbow, Emma sighed resignedly as she walked on, kicking at a stick on the pavement at her feet. Thinking back to those unpleasant weeks when she had almost given in, packed up, and moved on, the upheaval of the last several days didn’t seem quite so intense. Back then, it had seemed as though she was clinging to her tenuous bond with Henry by such a fragile, thin thread. Graham offering her the deputy sheriff position – and thus a legitimate reason to remain in town – had been a genuine boon, and when it had seemed as though that might slip through her fingers too – as good things always seemed to do in her life – Emma had almost hit the road once more. She’d been so close to taking off back to Boston, or anywhere really, it didn’t matter… she was always going to be alone.

No matter where she went, people never truly changed that much. Emma had learned that long ago, though Henry’s boundless optimism and the quaint little town’s charm had almost let her forget. It never got easier to ignore the labels that had followed her for most of her life – brought back to glaring focus by the newspaper expose Henry’s adoptive mother had ordered in her bid to see Emma ousted from her new town role. ‘Runaway’, ‘Thief’, ‘Orphan’, ‘Hussy’, ‘Teen Mom’, ‘Jail Bird’…those nasty words dogged her steps for the few days after the paper’s publication in the suspicious narrowing of eyes and disapproving pursing of lips as much as in any audible speech. For all too many moments, it had looked as though the little berg she had begun to hope could be a real home was going to turn its back on her. No matter how far or fast she ran, the barbed tips of both truth and rumor about her never failed to pierce Emma’s hard-won armor. She might be good at pretending the wounds didn’t sting, but she knew now more than ever that she would do well not to forget just how quickly the tide of public opinion could turn.

Even now, with the curse broken, and her tentatively coming to believe that she had not been an unwanted infant abandoned carelessly on the side of some deserted road, the lost little girl inside her still flinched at cruel jabs both real and imagined; there would never be enough time passed to make that completely go away. The childhood and adolescence she had weathered was an inner wound that would always draw blood – even as getting to know Henry, his forgiveness for her giving him up, his boundless blind faith in her, and meeting her parents after all the years lost, and learning how desperately they had indeed loved and wanted her, how they’d had no other choice but to give her what seemed her best chance and believe they would be reunited someday; even all those truths being brought home to her couldn’t undo everything else she had known before.

Upon reaching the sheriff’s station at last, Emma raised her chin from where she had buried it in her collar against the chilly wind and her hair being whipped across her face and into her eyes. She turned the knob and pushed into the station’s dingy and antiquated entryway, also finally shedding the odd sensation of eyes following her as she entered the squat cinderblock building. She could feel her mood lift slightly almost at once. In truth, this was the first job she had genuinely enjoyed doing in years – not only because she was good at it and got paid well, but for the fulfillment and sense of purpose it brought. Clearly, Graham had needed the second pair of hands; they’d be putting the filing back in order until next December, and the man couldn’t make a decent pot of coffee without somehow getting grounds in it to save himself. Still, he respected her and they worked well together. Emma was determined not to let down her guard and grow too comfortable again, but this sleepy little hamlet could almost feel something like a place to belong – not a description she would ascribe to any of the other places she had landed before.

A wry smile curled her lips just before she called out to let Graham know she was back with their food. She certainly wouldn’t take back Henry’s appearance on her doorstep and his bringing her here – whatever happened next. And watching the first real friend – outside of her 10-year-old and her own mother – she had made in years muttering to himself in his office, rifling through the haphazard piles of paperwork stacked all over his desk and running an occasional frustrated hand to swipe his errant curls off his forehead, she grinned even more warmly. They had exchanged one kiss – some months back now – but had decided to simply remain friends rather than risk the comfortable working relationship they shared and Henry’s hurt, as he cared so much for both of them, if it failed. They had somehow managed to simply go on as if it were a one-time gesture of affection and remain the partners and friends they were – for which she was constantly grateful. Graham was warm, open, supportive, and just lighthearted enough to crack truly awful jokes simply to see her roll her eyes, snort, and smile, but he was also capable and as driven as she was, determined to do their jobs well and protect those in their charge.

Stepping into the doorway of the lamp lit office, Emma had raised her hand to knock on the frame, but Graham looked up alertly before she could even complete the motion; hazel-deep eyes finding hers unerringly as if he had sensed or scented her presence before it could be humanly possible. She used to marvel at the uncanny ability her boss possessed; be it hearing, smell, or some other awareness, it was impossible to sneak up on him or catch him by surprise. Of course, now that the curse was broken, Emma knew, though she was still trying to wrap her head around it, that it was his werewolf nature allowing him that ability – his lupine senses were heightened and made him effectively alert and aware of everything. Smirking slightly she had to admit to herself that wasn’t at all a bad skill set for a sheriff to possess.

Shuffling forward almost bashfully, Emma held out the to-go bag in explanation, even as Graham waved her in without question, a welcoming smile on his scruffy face and stood to pull the visitor’s chair facing his desk over to the end of it where they could eat together more comfortably. Graham took the still steaming brown bag that Ruby had handed her with an understanding and apologetic smile not five minutes before and began to spread their meal out on his desk. They’d shared their evening meal right there nearly every night they both worked since he had hired Emma, and it was a settling bit of routine normalcy that soothed her jangled nerves as she sunk into the seat before her.

Graham looked up at her with a grateful crooked smile and the bright eyes that Emma would challenge anyone not to be charmed by (there was a reason she had kissed him that one time after all). “Thank you, Deputy,” he quipped, a playful emphasis on her title. “It was definitely time for a break.” He gestured at the stacks of files and paperwork all over his desk at those words.

Once they had both settled into their seats, Graham didn’t hesitate to take a huge bite out of the Philly Steak hoagie he’d ordered, munching happily and even closing his eyes in bliss with a low hum of satisfaction deep in his chest. For a moment, Emma could only watch, trying to remember if her friend – for all that he looked so trim and wiry – had always had such a voracious appetite and she merely didn’t notice before, or if it was a trait of his recently reacquired wolf within. She was still sometimes too stunned to believe that both he and his adopted sister Ruby, her two closest friends in Storybrooke beyond her parents (that was taking some adjustment too) could both shift into large wolves by the light of the moon. They had been born with the ability in the Enchanted Forest, and that side had merely been buried along with their true identities while under the curse. It was why Graham’s birth parents had abandoned him in the woods – or so he had told her, as he could only assume when he didn’t even remember them – to be found by a preteen Ruby on one of her nightly runs and brought back to live with she and Granny, folded into their little family as simply as if he had already belonged there. Emma had yet to see either of them transform, but she also knew in her bones that neither of them would lie to her. She had simply attempted to reconcile this one more bit of her new normal in her mind and move on without treating her friends any differently; even if, in moments like that, she did gawp at them in wonder. “That good, huh?” she finally managed with a chuckle, amused enough by his good natured enthusiasm and almost child-like joy to put aside her own cross mood and paranoia of being followed.

Then, she bit into her own first taste of Granny Lucas’ unparalleled onion rings and let out her own ecstatic moan at the hot, crisp, greasy goodness on her tongue. Graham laughed out loud in response, the whooping, uncalculated ring of it doing much to completely repair Emma’s clouded outlook. “I don’t know,” the sheriff countered her previous jest saucily, “you tell me.”

Emma nodded enthusiastically, her own eyes alight as well, and her mouth full of her first buttery toasted bite of Granny’s grilled cheese. When she could speak again, she conceded gladly, “Yep, you’re right. Granny’s is the best – and Ruby slipped bacon on here for me again. It’s like Heaven between two slices of bread!”

Graham snickered at her creative praise, and the two of them settled into a comfortable silence, busily munching on the food spread out before them and humming in pleased enthusiasm. Once they were finished, Emma began gathering up wrappers and napkins as Graham sat back contentedly in his chair, wiping crumbs from his front with his hand and grinning at his deputy in full-stomached satisfaction. “Well, that hit the spot,” he stated cheerily, eyes sparkling when she nodded in agreement with his words. He paused a moment, as if uncertain whether he should voice what he was about to say or not, then added, “I’m glad. You look a lot happier than you did when you first came back in here.”

Though she truly attempted not to – had long since decided in the months she and Graham had worked together side-by-side that the good hearted sheriff was trustworthy – Emma felt herself stiffen and begin to close off. She didn’t need any more concern over her emotional state and how she was dealing; her mother was doing enough of that to serve for a dozen people. The barrier she threw up was almost involuntary, no matter how well-intentioned she knew her boss was. Old habits were hard to break, and even more so when she felt half the time as if the town’s very borders were closing in on her, that she would never find “normal” again, and as if her every move was being scrutinized and probably coming up well short of what must have been expected in a long lost royal.

To his credit, the soft-spoken lawman didn’t push and delve into further questions. He backed up slightly, hands raised in appeal, before lifting a file from the stack before him and turning to put it in the corner cabinet, offering her a bit more space as if he had read her mind. ‘No, more likely he sensed the fear or frustration on me,’ her mind supplied unhelpfully, remembering his heightened shifter senses once more. Though he had his foster sister, and Granny, and Henry blatantly adored him, trailing after the sheriff or begging him to ride along on patrols, Graham seemed like a somewhat reluctant loner himself. Emma sensed he understood self-protective walls and keeping others at arm’s length all too well, even if she didn’t know everything he had been through. He might be willing to listen, but he clearly wouldn’t force her to talk.

She could ask him how he seemed to know, seemed to be on the outside looking in, but it really wasn’t fair when she was unwilling to share in return. Ruby had explained to her once – on an ill-fated girl’s night that only she and Ruby had made it to the end of – Mary Margaret and Ashley ducking out embarrassingly early – that shifters like them could only be contained for so long, and that though he had loved she and her gran and been happy with them, he had mostly returned to the forest when he came of age, living off the land as a skilled huntsman with a wolf he considered his brother at his side. It was only after a month when he hadn’t stopped in for even a supper or a quick visit, that they learned he had been commissioned for a job by the Evil Queen – and when he had failed to return, she had feared him dead. It wasn’t until befriending Snow White and hearing she and Charming’s whole story put together that Ruby had learned the fate of her adopted sibling was much worse: he had been made into one of Regina’s heartless black knights, his very mind and will subject to her whims and control.

Henry had told Emma all this as well, long before her waitress friend confided in her with newly-restored memories post-Curse, but Emma hadn’t truly believed him at the time, merely nodded along to humor her highly imaginative son as he’d flipped through his storybook not long after she and Graham had shared their single, ill-fated kiss. Graham’s collapse just afterwards, her panicked 911 call and what the confused Dr. Whale had vaguely labeled some sort of isolated cardiac event, had given cooler heads time to prevail where taking the romantic feelings behind that kiss much further had been concerned. At the time, Emma hadn’t questioned his awed “I remember” epiphany, chalking it up to disorientation from his impending health episode. Now she knew that somehow his memories had been returned to him before the curse breaking did the same for everyone else in town. Henry had been thrilled, and she knew that Graham had listened to her son seriously after that, truly joined his “Operation Cobra”, because he knew Henry was right, and wanted to help bring everyone back to themselves as well. He just hadn’t attempted to share it with her, knowing she would think him crazy and that it would push her even further from the truth. Instead, he had bided his time, and helped where he could, waiting and hoping and believing until the Savior could no longer deny who she truly was.

It made Emma chuckle lowly, and shake her head in amused disbelief; their whole world had changed, and yet here stood her friend, patiently waiting as he always had. He turned to look over his shoulder at her sound from where he stood at the open filing cabinet, head tilted to the side as he studied her curiously, until Emma finally admitted, “Yeah, I wasn’t in the best mood. It felt like everyone in the diner was wondering how I could possibly be their Princess. My parents keep fussing over me and trying to make up for 28 years in a week, and we still don’t know where Regina’s hiding or what she might be plotting next. It’s just…it’s a lot….that’s all.”

She blew out a breath, still not sure what compelled her to open up exactly. To her intense relief, Graham didn’t try to offer empty platitudes about it all being fine and not to worry. He merely nodded in understand, adding, “I’d imagine so. Our world back in the Enchanted Forest – your own family even – wasn’t real to you at all, and now it’s all been dumped in your lap.”

Emma bit her lip to hide its almost quivering a little at the emotion he summed up so succinctly. She wasn’t used to feeling so shaky and out of her depth – and she certainly didn’t like it. That didn’t even begin to factor in the weird sensation of being watched that she had experienced repeatedly, nor of being followed, though she kept feeling it crawling up the back of her neck the last couple of days. That had to be just a reaction to the other upheavals around her –if she could only convince herself of that fact.

Suddenly, Emma had to get out. The pressures of wondering what the Evil Queen might throw at them next, how to keep her son safe – while at long last getting to actually learn to be his mother, trying to reconnect with her own parents, and trying not to disappoint everyone else looking on, was overwhelming her once more. The walls of the station seemed to be drawing in, along with the suffocating weight of all that responsibility mentally added up as well. It really was more than any one person – a sane one anyway – should be expected to handle at one time.

Luckily, it had taken her long enough to fetch their dinner, that a quick glance at the clock back out into the main room over the coffeemaker and microwave showed that it was nearly quitting time anyway. She needed to get back to her room at the loft – if only for five minutes completely to herself to put her head back on straight – before she hyperventilated.

Before she could voice some excuse about the supper not sitting right or needing to help Henry with his homework, Graham looked up at her again, warm gaze concerned and voice soft in understanding, “Emma, you don’t look like you’re feeling well…”

She started to protest, even as she had been about to claim just that, but she didn’t want to seem like she was slacking, nor for her distress to be so obvious. She used to have a much better poker face. Graham waved off whatever comeback she was about to voice anyway. “Seriously, this place is so quiet they shouldn’t pay both of us to be here anyway. I’m closing up myself as we speak. I’ll put the phone on rollover to our cells at 9:00, and then I’m heading out too. You’re only gaining about twenty minutes.”

Shaking her head at his once more almost unbelievable kindness, Emma didn’t even try to protest further. Instead, she slung her jacket back over her shoulders and nodded her acquiescence as she stood. “If you’re sure,” she finally caved, “but make me return the favor sometime, okay?”

“Done,” Graham assured her, his expression genuine and further comforting her that he didn’t resent the early exit or her needing some time to regroup.

Another minute, and she was out the door, hesitating but a moment on the curb outside to button up her red jacket and pull her knit beanie down over her ears against the chill in the late September breeze. She stepped out briskly, crossing the street and picking up speed as the night had already lengthened into dark and the air had gone chill. It was only as she passed by the storefront with Dr. Hopper’s offices above on the second floor that a scuffling noise caught her ears enough that she turned sharply, peering once more down a narrow alley between buildings. She could have sworn the shadows shifted as something – or someone – drew further back out of sight. Emma tried to focus on the area where she had seen movement, practically holding her breath as she stared into the hovering blackness. Whatever had alerted her was clearly long gone though. She wasn’t running around in the night alone chasing what was probably a stray cat, nor was she going to let her jangly nerves imagine even more monsters than the ones she had already learned were real.

Turning back to face the street, Emma made herself move on toward the home she shared with Mary Margaret – and now David and Henry too. She couldn’t help the foreboding that skittered up her spine; no matter how many times she told herself she wasn’t being followed, that nothing was there, she was no longer sure that reassurance was true.

As if to seal her unease, just as she closed her fist over the door handle to enter their building’s stairwell up to the loft, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end in the night stillness. And it was then that a stark, shivering note rose on the chill air – coming from the nearby forest at the edge of town, but carrying in a haunting, wild cry, clear as a bell. It was the howl of a wolf, letting them all know it was there.

#cssns #cs au mc ff #run to me (in the dead of night)#prologue

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harrysbaebyhoney · 6 years

Text

BEFORE THE BLITZ.

A/N: this story is about 10k words, so a bit of a long oneee! it’s part one out of a three part fic, and i’m not really sure when the other parts will be written, as it took a lot of work for this one to be done, but i’m hoping soon!!! i’m not claiming to be a ww2 scholar, so there might be some wrong info abt the time period, but i did my best based off the research i did. so pls remember this is a work of fiction and i’m not claiming for it to be 100% true! i really hope you enjoy this story, pls let me know any of your thoughts abt it bc i love hearing feedback. there is angst, smut, and fluff throughout it all!!! i’m not too good at writing smut yet so pls forgive me. anyways, enjoy, share, and lemme know what you think ((:

PART I.

1939, Birmingham.

“Helps me forget we're far apart,

I don't know exactly when, dear,

But I'm sure we'll meet again, dear,

And my darling, till we do

You are always in my heart!”

He watched as the band set down their instruments, announcing a short break in order to regain themselves before the night would take a more upbeat turn. It was December now, a few months after the proclamation of war against Germany was declared. Most people’s moods were shifted into one of plain anxiety and fear for either their own lives or their loved ones.

Coming to the bar tonight was an escape for all of them as jazz tunes would soon be played, and everyone would engage in swing dancing, forgetting about their worries and the threat to their lives that loomed over them. He came to forget about his lingering fear that he would soon be drafted, too.

Sipping on the rum he held in his large palm, his eyes danced around the room, hoping to catch sight of his friend, Nick. Fortunately, he found him mingling with three ladies in the corner of the bar. Harry chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. Leave it to Nick to attempt charming three ladies at once.

Pushing himself off of the bar he leaned on, he took long strides over to the group, pausing once he was behind his friend. “‘Been waiting fo’yeh, mate,” He announced his presence, his words silky and smooth as he clasped a hand on Nick’s shoulder.

Nick turned to offer him a sheepish grin, giving a small shrug. “Sorry, got a bit distracted. Ladies, meet my dearest friend and fellow prisoner of the factory system, Harry Styles,” He introduced him to the three, grinning widely.

Harry took the opportunity to peer over at them, granting them a small nod as his greeting. The blonde hardly seemed interested in either of them, her gaze wavering around the room for an escape. Meanwhile, the lighter brunette was latching herself onto Nick’s arm, practically giggling at the simplest remark he would make.

Then, his gaze shifted to the shorter girl of the three, a raven-haired beauty. To his delight, she was peering at him through her long lashes, memorizing the details of his face and the way his scruff was beginning to grow. He had woken up late this morning and didn’t bother to shave, considering he had almost forgotten to even put his shoes on whilst running out the door to his job.

Y/N had hardly wanted to come tonight, too preoccupied about starting her new job on Monday, but her friends promised her a night of dancing, drinks, and shameless flirting would ease her nerves. Now, under the gaze of an emerald-eyed beauty, she wished she had listened to her instincts. When she saw the lit-up sign, Interlude, hanging outside the bricked building, she should have turned the other way. She should never have come. Since the second her eyes met his, she knew she would be trapped, and she could not afford any more attachments right now.

“Hello, I didn’t quite catch your name,” He greeted her, a grin forming on his lips as he was obliviously unaware of the thoughts circling through her mind at the same moment.

Her lips twitched upwards slightly as she shook her head with light laughter passing her lips, “That’s because I didn’t say it, Mr. Styles.” His ears perked up at that, he could get used to her calling him that…

Clearing his throat, he looked down at her with amusement, his lean figure towering over her own silhouette. “Then, what’re we waiting for? What’s yeh’ name?” His brow arched as he waited for her response, but she merely stared up at him with a fond grin on her expression.

“We’re waiting for you to get me a drink first,” She quipped back smoothly as they both seemed to forget about their friends standing next to them. It didn’t matter, though. The blonde had ventured off on her own, attempting to find her own admirer for the night, while Nick and Elizabeth were too preoccupied with each other.

“Oh, so that’s how s’gonna be? Using me for a drink, hm?” His voice was scolding, but his expression read amusement. She merely shrugged back in response, hands entwined in front of her as she sweetly looked up at him with big, doe eyes. “Alright, only ‘cos yeh’re cute.”

Her cheeks tinged pink at the compliment, and she was suddenly glad that the bar was dimly lit. His head cocked towards the bar, inviting her to follow after him, which she did but his strides were long and she was practically tripping over her own feet to keep up.

Placing her hands on the counter, she jumped up onto the stool and took a seat with her elbows resting on the table. Harry was leaning against the counter beside her, raising his fingers to beckon the bartender over. She pouted slightly when she realized that his figure still towered over her even while being raised by the stool.

“Yeh’, we’ll have a…” Harry trailed off, his gaze flickering back to the girl sitting beside him.

“Oh, just a French 75,” She told him to which he perked his eyebrow at, but, nevertheless, ordered the drink for her. Her gaze shifted to observe the scenery of the bar and the vibe it gave off.

The entire place reeked of alcohol and a hint of oak, although she may have been imagining the latter due to the architecture of the building being composed mostly of wood. Heels clicked against the wooden floor as ladies begin to flood the dance floor, dragging their dates along with them. It felt cosy and safe, like their secret hideout from the cruelties and atrocities of the world that awaited them.

It was their last place of fun and freedom before times would shift and everyone’s focus would be on the telephone, waiting to hear from their loved ones, rather than on the trumpet player up on the stage. A breath was released from her lips, gulping as the memory of her brother began to reappear in her mind.

Shaking her head, she pushed the thought away, knowing her friends would scold her for failing the one duty she had to accomplish for the night: to have fun. Luckily, her thoughts were interrupted with the drink that was held out before her and the cheeky lad who seemed prepared to continue his act of charming her.

“Deal’s a deal, love. M’gonna need yeh’ name now,” He tried again, meeting her own smug grin with the slight quirk of his lips.

Taking a sip of her drink, she caved in— it was hard not to when such brilliantly green eyes were staring her down. “I’m (Y/N),” She officially introduced herself, watching as his small smile grew wider.

“(Y/N),” He repeated, trailing off as he seemed to be memorizing the exact pronunciation of it.

“Glad your ears work,” She cheekily responded, giggling softly as he nudged her shoulder with his elbow. He didn’t seem to mind her teasing, though. In fact, he could make do with it for however long she would like if he were allowed to hear that cute giggle leave her lips once more.

“Yeh’ come out tonight with your friends here often?”

“No, it’s just cause I’m starting a new job on Monday. M’really nervous and all that, so they thought it would be best to let me loosen up for tonight… ease my nerves,” Y/N told him.

“What job? M’sure yeh’re going to do great, love, they picked yeh’ for a reason,” Harry earnestly assured her, offering a small smile her way.

“Well, it’s just a secretary position at this big corporation for now. I’m hoping I can impress them enough for a promotion, then maybe have enough experience to run my own business,” She informed him, before continuing on, “Nick said you work in a factory?”

“Yeh’, I do. Not exactly m’dream job, but it makes money, which is all that matters right now,” He told her, a slight frown pressed upon his lips.

“What is your dream job then, Harry?” She asked him curiously.

“‘ve always wanted to own my own bar, actually, and play music all the time like here— live artists, expressing themselves, yeh’ know? One day, I want to be one of those men up on that stage, performing, though m’not sure if that would settle well with everybody else,” Harry opened up to her, a sheepish grin adorned on his features.

Y/N gazed at him with admiration and a soft smile, nodding along. “You better achieve that dream, I’m tired of hearing the same old songs. It’d be nice to hear a new voice,” She assured him, their grins fondly matching one another.

“As long as I see yeh’ running your own business, (Y/N),” He promised her.

“I’ll drink to that,” She raised her glass before the two took a sip of their chosen drinks. Smiles were written on their face, unable to be erased.

As the music became upbeat, the trumpets blaring with glee, he turned to glance at the stage and the crowded dance floor before returning to gaze at her. “Dance with me,” He moreso ordered than asked her, though his hues held a pleading glint.

Setting down her drink, her nose scrunched up. She could make it easy, give in to him now, but that wouldn’t be as much fun for her. Her friends did tell her to have fun tonight. What was more fun than playing a game of chase?

“Dunno’ if I’ve drunk enough for that…” She began to reject his offer to which he frowned at.

“Oh, c’mon, love, it’ll be fun. Can’t come here without at least doin’ one swing da-“

“Sorry, hope I’m not interfering. Saw you just sitting here, was wonderin’ if you cared to dance?” A blonde man who stood a few inches shorter than Harry questioned the same girl Harry was attempting to win over.

Y/N turned her head sideways to peer at the newcomer, her lips shifting into a large grin. “I’d love to!” She exclaimed excitedly, hopping off the stool and taking the blonde’s hand in her own dainty one. As he began to lead her onto the dance floor, and while Harry was attempting to unravel what just occurred, she turned around to wink at the dumbfounded, curly-haired man.

“Thanks for the drink, Harry. I’ll see you around?” She offered before she was lost in the dance floor amidst the moving bodies.

Harry hadn’t missed how her lips were quirked into an amused, challenging smirk, though. Though he had felt blatantly rejected at first, he recognized the little game she was playing, and he was determined to win. Finishing his own drink, he set it down before marching off to find her.

Indeed, he found her, dancing with the same bloke who interrupted them. Her short figure was being spun around while she grinned widely, eyes shut as if lost in the moment. Approaching a redhead, he managed to cop his own partner and began to join the dance.

Y/N had her arms around the blonde’s shoulders who was babbling on and on about how he was here to celebrate his best friend’s engagement. It was endearing, really, but she couldn’t be bothered. Instead, her eyes began to roam the bar to see if the brunette was still there. When she couldn’t spot him at their spot by the bar, a pout settled upon her lips. Perhaps, he had not understood her game and had given up on her, too insulted to continue pursuing her.

Beginning to feel rather bummed out, she sighed softly as she was spun around in circles, twirling away from her partner. Hands grabbed her waist, pulling her close again, and she looked up, expecting to see the blonde but was met by green hues. A surprised gasp left her lips, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Traded partners,” Harry simply explained, cocking his head towards the blonde and redhead who were now dancing around.

A smile began to form on Y/N’s lips, looking back up at Harry. Relief flooded throughout her, glad that he had realized her challenge. “Missed me so quickly?” She pondered, gasping once more as he turned her around, pressing his chest into her back while one hand had slid into her own, the other resting on her hip.

He swayed his hips along with hers to the music, leaning down to whisper in her ear, so that she could hear him over the blasting, swing music. “Yeh’ left jus’ when we were gettin’ started,” He murmured, spinning her out with one hand. She turned her head to glance at him while she stood a few feet apart from him, still clutching onto his hand with her own.

“Starting what exactly?”

He brought her back in, chests pressed against one another as her hands moved to slide up onto his broad shoulders. “The rest of our fun night, of course,” He responded as if it were the obvious answer.

To that, she offered light laughter, shaking her head in amusement. “Oh, yeah? You decided we were gonna have fun, did you?”

“No, ‘course not. I was hopin’ actually, kind of why I wanted you to stick around, so I can see if that’s what you wanted, too,” His voice was softer, more questioning as he looked down at her with a questioning gaze.

Her light mood seemed to take a sudden twist as her grin fell. Removing her hands from his shoulders, she shook her head as she turned her face away from him. “I.. I gotta go,” She weakly offered before scurrying off the dance floor.

This time, he had recognized no challenge or game. She was truly attempting to escape, to flee him as if he represented some horrific idea. He was thoroughly confused, unsure of where he had crossed the line. Maybe she truly was repulsed by him and was mortified he would offer having a fun night to her.

“Fo’ fucks sake,” He mumbled to himself, cursing himself for crossing the boundaries too quickly. But, she had seem interested, hadn’t she? No, she had run off with the first man who interrupted their conversation and wouldn’t even give her name to him until she was bought a drink. Perhaps, he had thought too much into it.

Y/N, meanwhile, pushed open the doors of the bar to escape into the cold night. Shivering as she realized she forgot her jacket inside, she wrapped her arms around herself. All she had to cover herself up was the orange button-up blouse she had worn to match with her pleated skirt. Knowing the brunette would be after her, she decided to saunter a bit further until she stood behind the building where the path was rocky and the railroad tracks were only a few feet away.

Harry had frantically reached for his coat, tugging it over his lanky body before following her steps outside the building. He looked to either side of him, not spotting her figure in the darkness of the night. Huffing to himself, he frowned with furrowed brows, wondering where she could have gone.

Deciding to look around, he checked the alleyway beside the building. Disappointed when it turned out to be empty, besides a snogging couple, he was beginning to believe it was time to give up before he heard some sniffling.

Anxious, he followed the noise till he hesitantly approached the familiar, tiny figure that stared ahead at the empty railroad tracks. “I… I didn’t mean to make yeh’ cry, love,” He started to say, but she cut him off with a small groan.

“I’m not crying! It’s cold out here,” She defended herself, turning her head over her shoulder to peer at the nervous male. Her nose had turned red due to the cold surrounding her, but no tears stained her cheeks.

“Oh,” The word fell off his lips lamely before he hurriedly took off his jacket and wrapped it around her dainty figurine. “What’re yeh’ doin’ out here, then? Yeh’ could’ve stayed inside, just told me to fuck off,” He scolded her, his body still standing a few feet away from her— so not to cross more boundaries.

“M’sorry if I… I said anything out of line in there. I really do respect women, I don’t expect them to just come have fun wit’ me, just thought… don’t know what I thought, really. Seemed so clever in the mo’, but…” He was rambling on, so she decided it was time to save him from further embarrassment.

“You didn’t cross any boundaries, Harry. I’m not upset about that.”

“Oh,” He said again, relief flooding throughout him that he hadn’t messed it all up, “Then… what happened?”

“I.. I can’t do this. I can’t have fun with you, Harry.”

His hands had shoved into his pockets, his own nose turning red as he had never been one to handle the cold too well, either. He was confused, honestly, by what she was saying, which is why he had kept quiet to what she responded with.

Once she realized he had no reply, she continued on with a sigh, “It would be no good for us.”

Her body turned to face him, arms crossing over her chest as her gaze shifted from his orbs to his boots. He stepped closer, waiting to see if she moved away before further advancing. Once he was close enough, his hands grabbed her elbow gently in his palms. “Why not? ’S just a bit o’fun, didn’t think it could be so bad,” He asked, perplexed.

“Because, for us, it wouldn’t just end up in fun. People like us, together, can’t just have fun, you know? It’s hard to explain, I probably sound crazy right now. I just knew the moment we started talking, you weren’t the person I would just have fun with. You’re the person I could fall for, and we can’t have that… not now.”

She was a bit scared that her rambling would scare him off. Here he was, merely asking for a bit of fun with the girl he had met in a bar, and she was ranting about how she could imagine herself falling in love with him. God, this would surely scare him off, so perhaps this was good for her— wasn’t this what she wanted?

She knew she sounded insane, but she also knew who she was. She could manage her emotions well enough, but with someone as charming and kindhearted as Harry had been, she knew she would not be able to prevent herself from feeling for him. One night of fun would turn into calling him the next day, eventually leading to dates and her obsessing over the curly-haired lad.

He didn’t seemed too shakened by her words, though. In fact, he seemed to understand them better than she believed he could. He had recognized it when he first saw her, too. He knew he was not picking out some random girl from the bar, but someone who had intrigued him by her appearance then her smart banter. She allured him, and he wanted to dive into her— completely, if he could.

“Why not now?” He settled on asking instead of consoling her thoughts.

“Because…” She whispered, her eyes darting from the ground to his enchanting hues, “It’s a dangerous time to fall in love.”

A faint smile eased upon his lips, staring down at her with a knowing glint in his orbs, “There is never safety with falling in love.”

Her eyes raised to meet his at that, a bit stunned that he was comfortably approaching this topic with her. She had been so sure he would be freaked out by her worries. Here he was, though, still listening to her. Perhaps, he was the insane one.

“Still, we can’t,” She pushed herself to say the words, moving away from his grasp once more with a small step backwards. He could see her walls falling down, though. He recognized the way her mind was screaming at her to leave, but her body was desperately craving more.

She recognized it, too. Her brain was logically bringing up her fears and worries, but she felt herself growing weaker under his gaze. She imagined where else his hands could travel, farther from just her elbows. She wondered what the toned chest she had felt pressed against her own looked like. She wanted him. Badly.

“I lost my brother,” She admitted to him, wanting to give him an explanation for her fears. “I can’t lose somebody else, so I can’t get close to anybody— not now.”

“Yeh’ won’t lose me, love. M’right here.”

“You don’t know that,” She scoffed, “It could be anybody tomorrow.”

“Stop worryin’ about tomorrow, then. We have right now. ’S the beauty of life, isn’t it? Livin’ in the present mo’ and all tha’?” He stepped closer, watching as she bit down on her bottom lip.

“Why are yeh’ resisting something that yeh’ want?” He questioned her, index finger grazing her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

She gulped, frowning as she attempted to regain control over the situation. But, the way his fingers grazed along her cheek had ignited a fire within her, had left a burning feeling throughout her, and she wanted more. She wanted more than innocent touches, but she wanted his hands digging into her hips as he pressed into her.

“Just fun, okay?” She whispered so quietly that he almost missed it.

He was a bit shocked that she had given in, thinking it would take more convincing but she stared up at him with a hard, determined gaze now.

“You can’t fall in love with me, and I can’t with you, got it? No calling me the next day, no asking to get lunch together, just… just one night together, and that’s it.”

His lips began to perk upwards, licking over his bottom lip. “Alright, if that’s what yeh’ want— as long as yeh’ won’t be askin’ me to cuddle you after, hm?”

She rolled her eyes at that, her hands lifting to grab at his shirt collar and tug him forward. “Trust me, Styles, I won’t be,” She shot back defiantly.

“We’ll see,” He hummed in response, his voice dropping lower than before as he leaned into her. His forehead was pressed against hers while their eyes met for one last time before he closed the gap and pressed their lips against one another.

Her fists around his shirt collar grew tighter, while his head tilted to the side, deepening the kiss. His hands had held her face in his large palms, holding her in a position he liked, so he could angle himself better in relation to her shorter figure.

The kiss was desperate and passionate— it was fiery and challenging, as if questioning which one would give up on their promise first, which one would succumb to the ecstasy of their bond sooner.

“Let’s go,” He murmured as he pulled away though his body was fighting against him, simply wanting to taste the softness of her lips against his once more. His hand dropped to intertwine with hers, the two sharing a soft smile before stumbling back into the alley during the dark night.

—— — — —

“Careful, love,” Harry warned her as she had her arms looped around his neck, pressing soft kisses along his jawline. His arm was wrapped around her waist, walking her inside his flat and making sure she wouldn’t bump into any walls. “Should be watching where yeh’re going, yeh’ know tha’?”

“You want me to stop then?” She questioned, pulling her head back to glance up at him with a questioning brow.

“Didn’t say tha’, did I?” He quipped back, lowering his head to leave a gentle kiss on her lips. He kicked the apartment door shut with his foot, his hand reaching back to lock it before moving back to its placement on her waist. “Proper minx, yeh’ are,” He murmured as she continued her assault on his neck.

Deciding he had had enough of her little fun and games on him, he thought it best to take control. Lifting her off her feet, he held her to his body with one arm wrapped around her waist while the other hand slid down to the back of her thigh. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his torso, ankles crossing against his back.

Their faces were leveled with one another as he leaned in to kiss her again but harder this time, not bothering to be soft and gentle because the fragile girl with her worries was left by the railroad tracks and was replaced by someone teasing and daunting.

He had recognized the shift when she attempted to give him a stiffy while he was merely trying to rush along their walk back to his apartment. But, no, she had to stop him in the middle of the sidewalk to kiss him again and run her hand down his chest towards his crotch. All that could stop her was a harsh grip on her wrist and a stern look, but even then, she was still daring.

The second they had gotten into the elevator, her lips were attached to his flesh— all the way up to his front door.

“Thought yeh’ could have all the fun, didn’t yeh? Get me all riled up fo’ what, hm?” Harry asked her as he walked her back to his bedroom, dropping her onto the mattress. Her back hit the cushioning while a soft gasp left her lips, not expecting it. “Not how it works wit’ me, angel. Yeh’ don’t get all the fun here.”

He began unbuttoning his shirt as he watched her big eyes trail from his own orbs to his toned chest. She bit down on her bottom lip, getting more eager for him as she moved to unbutton her own shirt. Slipping the fabric off her shoulders, she laid in her skirt, lifting her hips up to take that off, as well.

His hands paused at his belt buckle as he saw the sight of her in her white, cotton undergarments. She looked so pure and innocent like this, but he knew she was far from it.

“Such a pretty girl, aren’t yeh’?” He murmured, leaning down to cup her face with his hand. She hummed in response, her face leaning into his touch and lips pressing a soft kiss to his wrist. “Been a bad girl, though. Think it’s time yeh’ get taught a lesson, hm? What do yeh’ have to say fo’ that?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, suddenly at loss for words even though she had been a rambling mess earlier. Nodding her head slowly, he smirked at her, amused by the sudden submissiveness that washed over her, considering how bold she had been before.

“Turn over fo’ me,” He directed, watching as she obeyed his demands and moved to lay down on her stomach. Her head turned around to peer him at over her shoulder curiously, wondering what he possibly could want to do with her.

His large palm ran along her back down to her bum, tapping the flesh gently. “Pretty, little bum yeh’ got. Think it’d look even prettier with my handprints on them, what d’yeh think, doll?”

When he got no response from her besides a small gasp, his hand twisted into her hair to force her gaze on his own orbs. “Asked yeh’ a question, didn’t I?”

She nodded, at loss for words, as her cheeks had reddened drastically. Soon, her other pair of cheeks would match that color, too. “Y-Yes, it’d look prettier.”

He smirked at that, his hand releasing its grip on her hair and sliding back down. It happened in a quick second— one moment she was anticipating the impact, and the next a gasp was leaving her lips as her hips raised off the mattress. Her flesh stung from his hand, but she liked the feeling of it— the rapid pace of her heartbeat and the adrenaline surging throughout her.

“Such a good girl for me,” Harry murmured, more to himself, as his hand struck her bum once again. He did so a few more times, each time relishing in the soft whimpers and gasps that left the girl’s lips. Kneading the flesh in his palms, he massaged it soothingly. Deciding he had tortured her enough, he knelt down onto his knees.

Grabbing her ankles, he pulled her down the mattress till her legs dangled off the bed and his face was in line with her wetness. Moving her underwear to the side with his fingers, he leaned further into her, peppering kisses along the insides of her thighs.

Y/N anticipated his next move, feeling more than relieved when his lips met her wetness. Gasping at the first touch of his warm tongue against her clit, her hands shakily gripped the sheets. He sucked on her clit, tongue flicking over it before moving down to lick along her folds teasingly.

“Harry, please,” She forced out, hips pushing back further into him— body begging for more. He answered her pleas as his tongue slid past her folds into her, tasting her for the first time. His eyes shut as he hummed in content. She tasted as sweet as she looked.

A soft moan escaped from her flushed lips, head resting on its side as she tried to glance down at him. Though, as his tongue began to swirl against her walls and flick back and forth, her eyes fluttered shut, lashes resting on her cheeks.

He memorized the sound of her whimpers and moans, wanting to play it on a never-ending loop. “Taste so fuckin’ good for me, baby,” He told her as his fingers replaced his mouth by rubbing her folds up and down.

While, Y/N loved the feel and sensation of it all— she just wanted him. She wanted to cave into her desires and have him fully with no more playing around. “Please, Harry, I need you,” She whimpered, feeling his hand pause against her as he grinned smugly.

“Yeh’re having me, aren’t yeh?”

“You know what I mean,” She grumbled, cheeks pink as she felt too shy to say the words.

“Do I?” He tested her, grinning amusedly as she refused to let the filthy words pass her lips, so he helped her out, “Yeh’ want m’cock, is that it? Yeh’ wanna feel me pressed up inside yeh’ till yeh’re screaming for me?”

She whined at the thought, nodding her head hastily, “Fuck, please…”

Standing on his feet, he undressed himself entirely, shedding his boxers, as well. He reached towards his nightstand, grabbing a rubber and slowly putting it over his cock. He leaned down to kiss along the back of her shoulders before his hands unclasped her bra and peeled off the undergarment. Grabbing her by her hips, he flipped her over, so he could look into her eyes once more.

“Alright, yeh’ll have me then,” He promised her, pressing small kisses along her jawline before he positioned himself, slowly pushing into her. He forced himself to go slow, to give her time to breathe and adjust to his size. Her eyes had squeezed shut as he slipped inside her, mouth falling open as he continued to press into her until she had fully taken him.

“Yeh’ okay?” He asked her softly, eyes scanning her face for any painful or uncomfortable expressions. She nodded in response, hands moving to grasp onto his shoulders.

“Mm, keep going,” She assured him, as he moved his hands to rest on either sides of her face. He began to thrust into her, slowly but deeply as she threw her head back in bliss. Though as her moans grew louder, it edged him on.

He remembered how teasing she had been the entire night, and his thrusts got harder. “Open your eyes, want yeh’ to look at me,” He demanded, one hand going to cup her jaw as he tilted her head up and pressed his lips to hers hastily.

It was hard to do so, but she forced her eyes to peel open. She didn’t regret it once her own hues met his emerald ones, gazing at each other like there was nothing else going in the world except this very moment. There was no war, there was no bloodshed. It was only them and the passion flowing between them.

She moaned out his name as he pressed into her, thrusts quick and hard. She could feel him pressed up against her walls, hitting the one spot that had her eyes rolling to the back of her skull. “S-so close,” She warned him as he continued pushing into her.

Her toes curled as her back arched off the mattress, nails digging into his shoulders. If it hurt him, he made no effort to halt her from pressing her nails into his flesh. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the pain of it, just as she had liked his palms against her ass.

“Yeah? Yeh’ gonna come fo’ me? Alright, princess, come fo’ me,” He permitted her, his hand going down to rub against her clit in circles, helping her reach her brink as she came with a shrieking moan.

It didn’t take him long to cum after that, hearing the way she had let out one last whimpering moan. He spilled inside of the condom, pulling out shortly after as he rolled over to lay on his back beside her.

Both of them panted heavily, sweaty and breathless. There was merely silence, but it was a comfortable one— one neither one of them dared to break.

Instead, Harry peeled back the covers of his bed, covering it over both of them. He turned to his side, facing her, and shorty after, she did the same. They stared at each other without exchanging a word.

She didn’t have to ask him to hold her, because he already knew to do it. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close into his body. She didn’t argue or resist his grasp, but further snuggled into him by laying her head and hands against his chest.

They fell asleep, cuddling.

— — — — —

It was safe to say that after they had already broken one rule of theirs that night, many more failed to be followed.

The morning after, Harry had woken up to her resting comfortably in his arms. He smiled down at her peaceful, sleeping body and kissed her temple gently. He slowly took his arm off her, so not to wake her, and slid out of the bed quietly. He learned that she was a rather deep sleeper for even as he stumbled over their clothes on the floor, she remained asleep.

Smiling, he moved to his kitchen where he began fixing her a breakfast, despite her ordering him earlier not to do so. She wouldn’t mind though, he assured himself.

Soon enough, Y/N was being woken up to her body being softly shaken. Creaking her eyes open, she winced at the sunlight pouring through the windows only to see the lean figure before her. Moving to sit up on her elbows, she glanced down to see a tray being held out for her with a boiled egg and toast being prepared.

“Made you a cuppa’,” He offered her, setting the mug of tea on the nightstand beside her. She grinned softly up at him, grabbing the plate from him.

“Thank you, Harry, you didn’t have to,” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes with her fists. Glancing down, she realized she was still entirely naked and flushed. Harry seemed to notice for in an instant, he was offering her his shirt. Smiling up at him gratefully, she pulled the fabric over her body and allowed the material to fall against her thighs.

He joined her on the bed again, grabbing his own plate. The two ate their breakfasts, both ignoring the fact they had promised not to do this. They had promised not to grow an attachment, but they also refused to acknowledge their promise. It felt better to give into what they wanted.

Y/N was hesitant, but she didn’t want to ruin their morning. It was just a breakfast, that’s all. They would eat, and she would leave soon. Then, she would never see him again, just like they had agreed to. A night of fun, that’s all. Well, also a night of cuddling and a morning of breakfast.

It wasn’t long before they had finished their meals and worked to washed up, clean themselves from the filth they had acted in previously. Soon, Y/N was back in her orange attire and walking to the front door, with Harry falling closely behind her.

“Well, this was fun,” Y/N announced, her hand moving to open the front door as she swung it open and stepped out, before turning around to face him.

“Yeah, it was,” He agreed, nodding as he stared down at her. He bit down on his bottom lip as they stared at each other, unknowing of what to do. Silence settled upon them before she cleared her throat.

“Well, I’m gonna go then,” She told him.

“Right, okay. Get home safe, yeh?”

She nodded, turning on her heels and she sauntered towards the elevator. Disappointment settled throughout her, desperately wishing he would chase after her and coax her away from her fears. For, she so desperately wanted to see his green eyes again, more than just for a night.

Harry chewed down on his lip as he watched her retreating figure. He knew he should stick to his agreement and not chase after her, because that’s what she told him to do last night. But, hell, he hated to see her walk away like this.

So, he spoke up, “Can I call yeh’?”

Y/N paused in her tracks, surprised her wishes were being granted. A soft smile began to twitch along her lips. Her mind told her to say no and to walk away. This would just be another attachment that she did not need. He would leave like everyone else would. It was wartime, and it was dangerous. She lost her brother, she couldn’t deal with losing another. But, then she remembered his soft smile as he gazed at her in bed with his arms around her. She remembered his cheeky attitude and his determination to win her over, and she gave in.

Looking back at him, she nodded, “Yes, you can.”

A wide grin spread along his face, nodding back at her as she smiled towards him before walking to the elevators with relief flooding throughout her. This wouldn’t be the last time she would see him.

As she pressed the elevator button, he suddenly shouted to her, “Wait, I don’t have your number!”

“I’m in the book, (Y/N) (Y/LN)!” She shouted back at him as she stepped inside the elevator, the doors closing shut as he caught one more glance of her beaming figure.

Nodding to himself, he grinned widely as he stepped back inside the apartment and shut the door. Then, he moved over to the phonebook to find her name.

—— — — —

One phone call had led to dinner later that week which led to more dinners and more fun nights. It didn’t take long for them to grow attached, considering Harry even walked to her job after his shift from the factory was over, in order to walk her back to her loft.

It was February now, two months since they had met. They never brought up the conversation about their rules ever again since that night. It seemed like a promise worth forgetting, so they merely allowed it to fade away into oblivion. It was easier that way and more beneficial to them both, though perhaps not in long-term circumstances.

Y/N, of course, still dealt with the loss of her brother as a fresh wound. There were nights she couldn’t get a blink of sleep because she imagined his falling corpse on the battlefield. However, having Harry beside her in bed, with his arms securely wrapped around her in protection from the world around them, made it a lot easier to get through. So, while her mind screamed at her to end it before their bond grew, her body would relax into his as she kissed him goodnight.

There were days where she believed it would be alright. After all, not all the men in the country would be drafted for war, right? Just a bucket of them. Perhaps Harry would be lucky and fall short of belonging in that bucket.

He wouldn’t be drafted and they would stay exactly as they were right now, with her bare body being covered by her sheets and Harry stumbling back towards the bed after grabbing them both some water.

“Here, drink some,” He instructed her, holding out the glass as she sat up slowly, stretching.

“Wore me out today, H,” She teased him, though she particularly liked when he went rougher than usual. That only happened after a stressful day at the factory for Harry.

“Mm, sorry, button,” Harry apologized, but his smug grin said differently, causing her to nudge him with her elbow as he laid back down beside her. She took a sip of the cold water, savoring the taste before setting it down on the table next to her.

Shifting so she was laying on her side, she slung a leg over his and wrapped her dainty arms around his lower torso. Her fingertips drew shapes on his bare chest, pecking the skin softly. “Missed you today at work, everyone was looking at me like I didn’t belong,” She sighed quietly.

Harry frowned at that, his hand moving to run his fingers through her hair, which was a bit messy due to his tugging. He hated that Y/N had to go through that— hated that women, in general, had to face the blatant sexism in the workplace. He wanted to protect her from all those men working alongside her, but he knew she was strong enough to protect herself. Those men just never gave her the chance to prove herself and show that she was more than a domestic worker.

“Jus’ jealous of yeh’, petal. They know yeh’ could do their job so much better that they’re scared of yeh’, so they’d rather try to keep yeh’ out. Proper cowards, they are, the whole bloody bunch,” Harry assured her, his hand rubbing her arm reassuringly up and down in soft strokes.

She smiled at that, looking up at him with only admiration in her eyes. That was what she adored the most about Harry, his sense of consoling her as if it were a second nature to him. Every time she ranted about another mean man at work, her skirt getting dirty as she walked back home, or her cooking burning yet again, Harry always knew what to say to get that frown to transform into a grin. He didn’t even try, it was effortless.

“You’re the best, you know that?” She whispered, leaning up to kiss his lips gently. She rested her head on his chest afterwards, still tilting her head up to keep her gaze on him.

Harry shook his head, a fond smile on his lips. “I know tha’, love,” He quipped back, chuckling to himself as she huffed and rolled her eyes at him.

Her sweet, charming Harry also had quite the ego, and she learned that within a few days of knowing him. God, especially after that time he got especially rough with her, leaving her a trembling mess even as she tried to walk to the bathroom. He never stopped teasing her for that, how he had to help walk her to the bathroom because she was still shaking from their fuck.

“I hate you,” She joked as a smile was still written all over her face. She loved moments like these, laying with him and talking about anything.

Harry didn’t know why the next words that came out of his mouth did, but it seemed like a reflex to him, almost as effortless as comforting her, “Well, I love yeh’.”

They both paused at that, their bodies tensing up for opposite reasons. Harry tensed for he was afraid of scaring her away, knowing how uncomfortable and frightened commitment made her. Even though, they were together without ever announcing it, and would never be with somebody else rather than each other, it still scared her. So, he had left the topic behind, never daring to bring it up in fear of pushing her away. Yet, here he was, laying in bed with her and professing his love.

Y/N tensed up because this was the time her fears were finally confronted. All this time she had promised herself fun would not lead to attachment and commitments. It was easier to lie to herself rather than face the truth. The truth that she, too, loved Harry— she had fallen for him, just like she knew she would. And, while she had tried to prevent it before they first shared a bed together, afterwards, it got much harder to resist. So, she had caved in to her feelings and desires and allowed herself to betray her mind in falling for him.

Harry’s lips parted to say something else, to apologize… but for what? He wasn’t sorry for how he felt, he did love her. He loved her bratty, clumsy self. He loved that she pouted whenever she didn’t get a kiss goodbye in the mornings. He loved that she threw herself on his lap with a grumble after a particularly hard day at work. He loved that she still attempted to cook for him even though it always ended up burnt, so he would just cook up a new meal for them. He loved that she would launch herself onto his back when she was too tired to walk, forcing him to carry her around her apartment and retrieve whatever item she beckoned for.

So, he couldn’t apologize for loving her, because it was truly how he felt. He was only sorry that she was so afraid of love, so afraid of where it could lead them. He was sorry that he couldn’t protect her from the losses war brings.

But, before he could ramble out any apologies or whatever nonsense would spurt out of his mind, she cut him off with her own soft, quiet murmur, “I love you too, H.”

His eyes widened in shock. He was certain she would scramble off his body and kick him out of her flat. Instead, here she was, confirming that she, indeed, felt the same way for him.

She loved him for his idiotic, cheesy jokes that still had her giggling, moreso at the corniness of it rather than the joke. She loved him for the way he sang to her, reminding her that she would one day see him up on the stages like he dreamed to be. She loved him for the way he still tried to eat her burnt meals before she would feel too guilty and throw it away, allowing him to be the chef once more. She loved him for always supporting her, quite literally too, as she often threw herself on his back, mostly because she liked the feeling of being tall.

His smile could not be erased from his face after those words left her lips. Instead, he flipped them over, attacking her face with kisses before leading them down to her neck. “Love yeh’,” He would repeat after every few kisses, loving the sound of her giggles fleeing from her lips as his scruff tickled her neck.

He pulled back after a few moments, staring into her eyes as he pressed one last kiss to her nose.

“Love you,” She responded shortly after, the two beaming up at each other. They fell asleep like that, soft smiles meeting one another as they continued to converse about their days. Every so often, they would remind each other of their love for one another.

— — — — —

The next day, both of their moods could not possibly be crushed. Harry, especially, felt as if he were flying on cloud nine. After all, the girl he had trouble winning over at first had just admitted to loving him back.

He truly believed nothing could destroy his mood, that was, of course, until he got home. Seeing the letter on his doorstep was confusing enough, but seeing it sealed by the British government had his heart thundering in his chest.

Y/N had waited for about twenty minutes after her workday was over for him. He usually came by to walk her back home. Though, he hadn’t promised to do so today. He never did promise, though, he just showed up without needing to be told or asked. It left her a bit worried about whether he was alright or not. She assured herself he was, but she had to make sure. It wasn’t like Harry to skip out on her.

That’s what had her walking towards his apartment in a rushed pace. It didn’t take her long to be knocking on his front door. And when she did, Harry already knew who it would be. He didn’t want to talk to anybody right now, too shocked with the news to truly deal with it. But, he knew he couldn’t avoid her. He was just afraid of how she would feel. Her fears had come true, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“Come in,” He yelled from his living room, voice a bit a raspy and hoarse as he sat with his head in his palms and elbows resting on his knees.

That’s when she knew something was really wrong. Harry never missed a chance on being a gentleman, so she knew him not coming up to greet her was a clear sign something had occurred. Her stomach twisted as she walked inside to spot his distressed figure on his couch.

“Harry… you didn’t come to get me, I got worried,” She started, setting her purse down on his counter before sauntering over to him. She sat down on the table in front of him, hands resting on top of his knees beside his elbows. “What’s wrong?”

“M’so sorry, love, I…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath as he gulped the lump forming in his throat.

“Hey, what’re you talking about? C’mon, H, talk to me,” She pushed, her voice soft and gentle as she tried to catch his eyes but he looked away. He moved so his back was slumped against the couch, head tilting upwards to stare at the ceiling, which is when she noticed the red outlining his hues.

Worry stirred deep inside her as she moved to sit on his lap, straddling his thighs as she grabbed a hold of his chin and forced his head to look down at her. “Harry, baby, you can talk to me, you know that, right? I wanna help you, hate seeing you like this,” She frowned, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Got a letter today,” He forced out unevenly, his eyes moving to glance over at the letter sitting beside him. She rose her brow, a bit confused, but reached for the envelope anyways. She pulled the letter out, her eyes scanning over it, until the words finally sunk into her mind.

He had been enlisted.

“W-What?” She breathed out, rereading the letter to make sure she hadn’t messed up, that it was true. That her fears and worries had come true, and her Harry was being sent away, just a day after they confessed their love for one another. But, she was moreso worried about him. Her sweet Harry dressed up in a military attire, standing alongside other soldiers as he engaged in warfare. Killing was not a thing Harry was designed for, she couldn’t imagine the kindhearted man to ever have that violent tendency within him.

Forcing herself to remain calm, she knew she had to be strong for him. If she showed worry, if she showed fear, it would only worsen his mood. For the countless times he had been there for her, it was her time to be there for him. She would worry about her own fears later, but right now, she would listen to his.

She set the letter down, trying to control her breathing as she moved her gaze back to him. He was finally looking at her. “Talk to me, tell me what you’re thinking,” She started, her hands cupping his face in her palms softly.

He was a bit stunned at her reaction, fully expecting to see her wobbly lip and watering eyes. But, he recognized the strength inside her, and he couldn’t appreciate it enough. He hardly had the strength inside to keep himself from tears, he wouldn’t know how to do the same for her.

“Wasn’t supposed to happen, s’all. I was a student at university when the conscription first came along, which kept me exempted. Only a few weeks after, I had to drop out, cus’ of money issues. S’why I’m working at the factory now, trying to make some money so I can go back one day. I-I thought they wouldn’t know, wouldn't find out I left university, but they are the bloody government, aren’t they?” He scoffed, shaking his head as his hands cautiously moved to hold onto her waist. “Came home today to see this letter, that I’ve been enlisted now that m’no longer a student. Have to go for training, then they’re shipping me off to someplace where I’ll be killing people I don’t even know.” His eyes were watering once again at the thought, and it hurt Y/N to see him in so much agony.

He hadn’t even gone to war yet, but he was already mourning the actions of what he would soon be doing. Y/N pushed his head into her chest, holding him close to her as his arms tightened around her waist, clutching onto her as if she were the last piece that was keeping him here— safe at home, and not bloody in a battlefield.

That’s when the tears finally sprung to her eyes, falling down her cheeks slowly as she sniffled. His grip tightened around her as he heard that, hand rubbing circles on her back soothingly. “M’sorry, button. I told yeh’ that yeh’ wouldn’t lose me, made yeh’ come to dinner with me after promising yeh’ just one night, and I fell in love with yeh’ just like yeh’ knew would happen. And now, I’m being forced to go and leave yeh’ here. It’s all so fucked up, I…”

She cut him off, lifting his head so their eyes met and shook her head. “Harry, it’s not your fault. You didn’t start any wars, and you didn’t ask to be a part of it. You didn’t make me grow attached to you, I did that by myself for continuing to see you. I wanted to, and I don’t regret it, okay? But, don’t… don’t say I’m going to lose you, okay? I’m not going to lose you, you’re going to come back to me.” Her voice cracked by the end at merely the thought.

He nodded his head firmly at the thought, leaning up to press a firm kiss on her lips. “Yeh’ won’t lose me, promise.”

Y/N nodded in response, her body sinking down so her head was now pressed against his chest. She cried into his shirt as he held her. It continued like this for a while, both of them crying and taking turns with holding one another. They were both scared and upset, unknowing of what would happen to them. They did know one thing, though: they loved each other, and they wouldn’t give up on that, ever.

— — — — —

The pair walked together, hands entwined and clinging to one another desperately. Their anxieties increased as they reached the train station destined for London where Harry would begin his training. Five minutes left.

“Alright,” Harry breathed out, turning to glance down at her with a sad smile on his lips.

Though she desperately tried to hold back the tears, they came flooding in anyways, which didn’t help Harry’s upset mood much either. They had attempted to prepare for this the best they could, making love to each other last night until they grew too tired and stared at each other for the rest of the night.

Neither of them slept, too scared on missing out on their final moments together for who knew how long. They cried, laughed, smiled, and reminded each other of how much love they had between them. They were terrified, but they promised each other to be strong and to keep pushing forward. Pushing forward was the only way they could make it out of this.

“C’mon, poppet, know I hate to see yeh’ cry,” Harry cooed as he pulled her into his arms, his chin resting on top of her head as he squeezed his eyes shut, few tears slipping by. She sniffled, nodding, as she wrapped her arms around him and attempted to brush away her tears, using his shirt.

“S-Sorry,” She whispered, hiccuping shortly after as sobs wracked throughout her.

“Shh, baby, no apologizing,” He reminded her, pulling back to grab her face in his palms and wipe away the tears with his thumbs. “What’d we decide on, hm? Need to be strong fo’ me, doll, right? I can only be strong out there if I know yeh’re holding up back here.”

Y/N nodded at that, her hands resting over his as she nestled her face into his touch and left a kiss against his wrist gently. “I k-know, I’ll be strong for you, I promise. Just, please, be safe and don’t do anything dumb because you’re trying to be heroic, okay? Need you to come back to me, H,” She urged, eyes searching his.

Harry’s lips twisted upwards into a smile, or as much of a smile it could possibly be at this moment, as he nodded. “M’coming back to yeh’, petal. M’not missing out on seeing yeh’ conquer your own business or yeh’ finally becoming a good cook,” He promised her to which she let out a soft laugh at, shaking her head.

Two more minutes. Y/N turned to glance around them as other couples and families were bidding their loved ones goodbye. Sadness surged throughout the atmosphere as tears ran down innocent faces, loved ones being kissed for the last time before they would rest their eyes for eternity. It was a hopeless scene, there was nothing anyone could do to save the future from occurring.

“I should let you go, then,” She slowly spoke, biting down on her bottom lip as he nodded hesitantly.

He leaned down to kiss her once more, their lips meeting one another in a soft, gentle touch with no rush. It was only them and this moment. There was nothing else surrounding them besides this. They pulled away from each other with much resistance, tears filling their eyes but not allowing them to leak.

“I love yeh’, (Y/N),” He told her firmly.

“I love you, Harry,” She responded with no hesitation.

He let his hands drop from her face slowly, hands reaching for one another for a final time as she squeezed his palm gently and his thumb ran over the back of her hand soothingly. He picked up his duffel bag, stepping inside the train and turning back to wave at her. She waved back, a sad smile on her lips as the tears poured down once more.

She watched him settle inside the train, sitting by the window with a bag on the either side of him.

Their eyes met once more, as the train’s horns went off, signaling its departure.

And, their gaze never broke until the train was too far out of reach for her to spot him anymore.

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letholojimin · 6 years

Text

10 (JJK)

STUCK SERIES - PART 10

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Themes: high school au, badboy & fuckboy jungkook

Genre: smut

Word Count: 2,654

Summary: After being labelled the school’s biggest bad boy, Jeon Jungkook chooses to live up to the title. What he doesn’t know is that his arrogance will lead him to you.

SMUT WARNING

DADDY + BABY GIRL KINK

HOUR 9 | 11 | MASTERLIST

You go to your first party with Jungkook after four months of being his girlfriend.

Jeon Jungkook stayed the same lovable and gentle man you’ve liked him as. He was consistent with his dates, showered you with affection and he surprised you every now and then. Because of that, you rarely fought and when you did, both of you were mature enough to speak to each other and actually talk the problem through. Since he was such a wonderful person, your family had quickly accepted him and trusted him with you. They had gotten used to the two of you hanging out and simply spending time with each other and your parents couldn’t have been happier with the fact that you had found yourself someone like Jungkook- respectful, obedient and most of all, caring.

It had become tradition for the two of you to sit together with the rest of your friends at school and for him to drive you home which is why your parents always heard about him. After they’d invited him for dinner at your place, you knew they absolutely adored him and his personality. They were very welcoming towards him because they approved and the two of you could not be more elated.

But throughout the 4 months span in which your relationship bloomed, you couldn’t help but wonder how exactly he was doing in terms of his social life. There would always be party invites to both of you since you were both in the most popular group in your school however since you got together, you never really took the time to pay attention to them. Instead, the two of you preferred to go out and spend time with each other rather than dance and drink the night away at some random senior’s house party.

That was another reason why your parents loved him so much- you changed for the better because of him. They appreciated his efforts and the time he spent with you. Some days, you wanted to go out with him to a party but then again, you didn’t want your parents to think you were becoming less like the girl they were happy you’d become so you waited until the rest of your family went out of town. You were stuck home because you still had your finals and project deadlines since your school’s winter break was a little later than others.

Your boyfriend stuck with you since August when you’d first met and you were about to go to you first party as a couple in December, a long time since. Considering the way he’d touched you after five hours of knowing each other, he’d been very chaste the past few months. You were sure you were ready, though, it’s just that you were never presented with the right time and opportunity. Jungkook never tried to make you do anything and as much as you respected that, you wished he would at least rile you up more than usual.

Your house was deserted as you were getting ready for a party Yoongi was hosting at his and Hoseok’s shared apartment. Apparently the boys were all roommates with one another: Yoongi and Hoseok, Jungkook and Taehyung, Jimin and Seokjin while Namjoon preferred to live with his parents still. Apparently, he was too unclean to live alone. The boys all lived in the vicinity, in a neighborhood near the school.

The party started at eight but Jungkook would pick you up at nine-thirty, regardless of the fact that he’d be straying away from his quick route to his friend’s house. He says he wanted to come with you and those were the kinds of small but meaningful actions which made your heart flutter.

When he honked his horn outside your house, you were snapped out of your thoughts and from staring at you cellphone screen blankly for the past minutes. You quickly put your heels on and eyed your appearance in the mirror briefly, making sure your black dress wasn’t folded and that your curled hair still looked voluminous. For the night, you’d opted to put fierce makeup to bring out your sharp features- winged eyeliner, glittery eyeshadow and red lipstick you were sure would be smeared once the night ended.

You walked downstairs cautiously and put on your coat hanging from the rack beside the door and when you opened the door, you were pretty sure you heard your boyfriend’s breath hitch. With a light smirk, you simply walked over to the opened door of the passenger side and faced Jungkook. He finally looked at you in the eyes, his mouth slightly agape. “Wow,”

Upon hearing that, you looked at him with a sly smile before placing your lips on his, kissing him. Just before it could get any more heated than that though, you pulled away and went inside the car, leaving him breathless for a few seconds before he closed the door and made his way over to the driver’s side.

You knew he would never insinuate anything you were uncomfortable with or something he wasn’t sure you were ready for which was why he’d always stayed silent about things like sex and the like but that was exactly the problem. He was playing too much of the safe side to the point that he never gave you a chance to tell him you were ready for your relationship to reach the next stage. Tonight, you had planned to tease him like crazy- just enough to drive him insane and you’d done a good job so far considering the slight tent in his black ripped jeans when he finally sat down.

He dressed his high school reputation today- like a basic fuckboy. His denim jacket, skinny jeans and black boots showing off his fit figure. His brown hair was parted and styled though it still gave off a natural vibe- he probably ran his fingers through it, a habit you’d noticed he had. Soon he had started driving and you were both at Yoongi and Hoseoks, hip-hop music blaring from the loud speakers.

A few hours since you’d first arrived, the party was in full scale and you were tipsy from the booze you’d chugged down aggressively through the night. Your boyfriend was less drunk than you but he was also intoxicated- the scent of alcohol radiating from the area. At this point, the two of you were on the dance floor as you both followed the beat of the drums and the heavy bass of whatever slow song was playing.

You could feel Jungkook’s warm breath on your neck, your hair pulled to the other side as he placed kisses on the cold skin. You were shamelessly moving your hips against his, rubbing your ass against his lower region. His grip on your waist was tight as you continued your sensual movements, him sucking on your skin. When his mouth reached a place that was more sensitive than the others, you unconsciously moaned. His mind was hazy with all the things he wanted to do to you and he couldn’t think of anything else except how good your hips felt against his but how much better it would feel to pound into you relentlessly until you were begging him to stop. To him, your hips were moving too damn slow and he was so fucking tipsy and he couldn’t take your teasing anymore.

It wasn’t long before the two of your were drunkenly stumbling to his apartment, the boy fishing for his keys. Taehyung was still at the party so you had nothing and nobody to worry about as both of you were moving roughly. Your panties were so wet from the way Jungkook was teasing you, placing hickeys that were sure to litter your collarbone tomorrow morning.

“Fuck, Jungkook…” You let out an involuntary whimper and he swore he’d never heard anything that beautiful before. His lips curved into a sly smile as continued his attack on your neck while pinning your back against the door of his bedroom, encouraged by the sounds you made. He slowly grinder his crotch to your front, hearing you panting from all he was doing at once. It drove him wild to see you crumbling down in front of him knowing he was the one who was making you feel that good.

Before you knew it, Jungkook was unzipping the back of your dress expertly and you were undoing his belt and jeans at the same time. Both of you had discarded your shoes, hands becoming tangled in each others hair. He stepped closer to the bed, pushing you to move backwards and when your knees hit the wooden frame, your body fell on the mattress with Jungkook’s body following.

Low groans bubbled from his throat as the two of you locked lips and moved roughly, bodies entangled with each other. Jungkook rid himself of his shirt not long after and he quickly reconnected his mouth with yours. At that time, your juices were seeping through your underwear as he brought the two fingers down, pushing them inside the thin material of the lace.

“Tsk, tsk…” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he swipes his fingers between your folds before bringing up his pointer and middle fingers, placing them against your soft lips. You look up at him and suck lightly and his pupils dilate, darkness shrouding his usually shining eyes.

“You’re so naughty, baby…” He chuckles but you don’t miss the way his voice cracks slightly when you meet his eyes. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or your deprivation from his touch for four months talking when you say your next words, but whatever it is - it turns a switch in Jungkook.

“Only for you, daddy.”

When he hears the words come out of your mouth, he immediately rips your panties and unclasps your bra at the same time, complete arousal taking over his being. “Baby girl… What did you just say?” he whispers against your ear, the hair on your neck standing. Your hand daringly weaves itself through the hair on his neck, tugging his face closer to you until his forehead is pressed against yours. Both of you are sweating, your body completely bare against his clothed crotch.

“I said…” Your voice trails off, free hand reaching down to his boxers. “I’m only naughty for you, daddy.” Your hand suddenly palms his dick and a low rumble escapes Jungkook’s mouth. “My fucking baby girl is so dirty for me.”

You grin, the boy pressing his tongue against your nipple as he pinches the other one, both immediately hardening from the attention he’s giving them. Your soft whimpers encourage him to lick a stripe from the valley of your breasts down to your core. He places a chaste kiss on both insides of your thighs and before you push his head down to where you need him most, his mouth latches itself onto your clit.

Immediately throwing your head back, you let his name leave your lips in a moan. His strong hands pin your sides down, not allowing you to buck your hips against his lips which just don’t seem to be enough. He eventually lets go of your body though and his fingers move to your entrance. His teeth graze against your clit and you involuntarily arch your back against his mouth. He groans the vibration travels to your core and you’re pretty sure you’re leaking down onto his sheets.

He takes the time to detach his lips only to place them back after using his fingers to spread your juices even more against your entrance. Slowly, two fingers ease into your hole and you fist the sheets, panting wildly. He pushes in more before curling his fingers up into a spot you didn’t know would cause you to completely break, making you yell out your boyfriend’s name.

He rubs his fingers against the spot as he continues to suck on your clit, his other palm rubbing your pussy slowly. All of his movements were driving you to the brink of insanity and you were sure that you were in nirvana at that point, the boy taking you higher than you’ve ever been. He pulls his fingers out just to push them back against and rub against the same rough spot and your hands finally make their way to his head.

You shamelessly press your hips up against him and his tongue flattens itself against your bundle of nerves. The fingers in your pussy speed up, pushing you further and further off the edge while his touch on your clit becomes even more rapid rubbing against the ball of your clit hastily. His tongue works wonders and he groans, urging you on.

Your hips have completely lifted up the bed at that point and you’re aggressively bucking your core up, practically riding his face. He doesn’t stop his movements though and you chase you high- breathing heavily from the immense pleasure he’s giving you. “Jungkookie, fuck, more!”

With that, he increases his pace even more and he inserts another finger, putting more force into the movements he was making. Your vision started blurring as he sped up, encouraging you to reach your peak. “I’m almost there, shit, just like that!”

Your moans are loud and you could care less about if anyone could hear you because his movements were taking over you and you had no more control of your body. “Come on, you can do it.” He grumbles against your dripping core and you’re shaking violently from the sensation. Jungkook’s cock was throbbing wildly as he pleasured you, growing harder from every single one of your moans.

“Come for me, baby girl. Come for daddy,” He presses onto your g-spot with more force and suddenly the whole world goes white. Your feet dig onto the mattress, driving your hips up. Jungkook continues his movements as you’re hit with the strongest orgasm of your entire life and he rides out your high. You slowly buck your core against him, falling down from your climax.

“Fuck.”

Jungkook climbs back up to kiss you and you can taste yourself on his lips. When he pulls away, he suddenly realizes how much that sobered him up but he couldn’t say the exact same for you. He stares back down on your face and it’s almost like déjà vu- he remembers the first time he kissed you with your hair sprawled out and your body underneath him. “What are you waiting for?” You question, long eyelashes batting. It takes everything in him to do what he does next but he knows it’s for the best.

The look you gave him reminds him of how innocent you actually are- pure and untainted until he came along and you just mean so much, too much to him for him to take all of that away just because of his selfish needs. With that in mind, he gets off of you and he moves towards the bathroom, getting a few tissues. He then moves to his dresser to get you clean clothes of his. He wipes you up then he dresses you, your body to weak to wear the clothing alone. When he helps you, Jungkook really does know that you were not in the right state of mind for you to lose your virginity. He never wanted to pressure you into doing anything and he was happy he didn’t screw up tonight. He would never have forgiven himself.

He goes to the bathroom to relieve himself as he thinks of what you just called him and what he had done to you before changing into clean clothes himself and taking his place beside you in his bed. You’re fast asleep, but he doesn’t miss the way you stir- pulling him closer to you.

“God,” Jungkook says to himself, playing with the strands of your hair. “How did I get so lucky?”

HOLD UP i will explain the hour 10 --> 10. I just think it’s impractical to still call it an “hour” when they’ve been dating for four months so I changed it to simply 10. Okay so now we now that jungkook has a daddy kink since he’s wild af but he’s also a gentleman tbh :(( Also i hope u like this tell me what you think i tried to build this shit up as much as possible so it still conforms to the personalities of the characters. happy holidays here’s the overdue chapter i promised i would supply you with and if this doesn’t make up, just know 11 is pure ;))

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myaekingheart · 4 years

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So, I was informed yesterday of an unexpected death in the family--a distant family member who I didn’t really know very well personally, but my parents knew him better so my mom especially was sad. I may not have known him, but he knew me at least in the sense of knowing my parents. He would comment nice things on posts my mom had made about me and stuff, so that coupled with the knowledge of his sudden death have had me a little fucked up all day and it definitely informed the strange dreams I had last night.

First, I was in what was meant to be my grandparents’ house. It looked nothing like their actual house but I just automatically understood that that was where I was. My grandfather, who passed away in 2014 (his death was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life and has led to me actually becoming pretty necrophobic), was brought back to life but was then told he only had 2 days to live before he’d die again. He didn’t look sick at all during this time we spent with him, however, which was probably for the best. My parents, aunts and uncles, and myself all were at their “house” for dinner to spend some time with him before his second death. We got to catch up with him about what he had missed in the past six years. And then him and my grandmother were about to leave and I remember standing in the driveway looking up at him like I was a child again, and I told him I was getting married and I got to hug him super tight. The last thing he said to me before getting in the car and driving off was “I love you, Amanda.”

SO AT THIS RATE I’M CRYING BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK. I’ve had dreams about my grandpop in the past that always feel like this, like visiting his spirit in the afterlife or in the unconscious space between living and dead or something and it’s always super jarring but this time specifically just UGH MY FEELINGS. I am in pain.

Then the dream transitioned into visiting this very weird, cheap indoor knockoff of Epcot. The whole building had that feeling of clearly being old, like built in the 1960s or 1970s. Like when you step foot in one of the buildings on Main Street in Disney World and you can just tell everything there was built like 50 years ago. The entryway had a wide but short stairway into the main hall through which you walked to visit the different countries. It started with Greece and I remember banners hanging from the ceiling. The whole place also kind of had the same vibe as my local church’s event hall. But anyways, Greece was hardly anything, and then there was a Japanese tea room that looked like a cheap American attempt at capturing Japan. All I remember were red and white banners hanging from the ceilings and women dressed like geishas serving tea at round tables with cheap white tablecloths. Then there was Russia. One room was more of an alcove or indoor amphitheater hybrid where you walked down some shallow stairs and there was a little scene with snow and a little kid ice-fishing. There was another room set up similarly that had a very creepy set of animatronics meant to be the Romanov family dancing like at a ball, but nothing about the atmosphere itself screamed “ballroom.” The walls were this unforgiving pale blue-ish gray and the carpets were crunchy and old and a slightly darker shade than the wall. I remember everyone was wearing bright and tacky yellow and turquoise clothing, too, like a take on Bluth’s Anastasia from the Once Upon a December scene. The animatronics themselves were absolutely terrifying with Resusci-Anne-esque faces. The most detailed of all the countries, however, was Germany. Once you reached that portion of the building, there were rosemaling-esque murals on the wall (which I know is Norway and not Germany but fight me, my unconscious brain is dumb) and forest green shingled awnings to represent some pretend housing structures or something. While in Germany, suddenly everything became academic. I found myself in a private school uniform (plaid pleated skirt, gray blazer, white button down, probably loafers and knee high socks) sitting on a wooden bench in a rounded dead-end corner where there were a handful of classroom doors. There was something said about something bad having happened to my math teacher, who looked exactly like Bea Arthur but was not, but that she was coming back so we just had to wait a little while or something. While I was sitting on the bench waiting, my senior year math teacher showed up and we were talking about something I can’t remember. I think at one point during this time, I had mentioned something about planning to go get my engagement ring resized or something because it kept spinning and sliding off (which, ironically enough, I had to take it off to type this up because it was spinning violently and my grouchy ass got so frustrated, I nearly chucked it out a window because I couldn’t type with it on). When I brought this up to my math teacher, however, she insisted against getting it resized though I can’t remember why. Then I was by myself again on the bench but I had a handheld white board. I was practicing sketching figures on it before I got called someplace and had to leave, so I remember crouching down in front of the bench with a black dry erase marker and gold metallic permanent marker and quickly writing some message onto the white board for the next person to find. I don’t remember exactly what I said in full, except that the first part was “Take care of yourself” and the tone of the message overall was something positive about self-care. Then I ran off and I was back in the Germany section of old, fake, indoor Epcot again. There was a rendition of the Oktoberfest restaurant which was actually pretty decent, like it looked pretty close to the real thing except that it was snowing inside so it also had a slight aura of A Christmas Carol. I distinctly remember a young male waiter pulling a metallic brass pole like the kind that line ride queues out of the fake brick ground and readjusting it in it’s little hole. Then there was a makeshift theater in what was either Italy or Greece, I can’t remember. It was a terrible looking theater, though. Same unforgiving blue-ish gray walls and crunchy old carpet. The walls were so tall, too, which made me feel tiny and powerless. They were projecting an old movie onto the one wall, but they didn’t turn any of the lights off. I’m pretty sure the seats were just a bunch of those business-y chairs they have in church event halls and school assembly halls and principal’s offices. The gray ones with no arms and scratchy fabric seats and backs that have zero cushion whatsoever. I went into this theater with my parents where we took a seat right in the front and watched a very weird vintage montage film. The only scene that I specifically remember was a young man with blonde hair and a toned physique who I guess was supposed to resemble Apollo flying through the air as if on a zipline ass naked with drum tied around his waist which he was beating consistently with his penis. How he had that much control over his dick so as to bang a drum with it, I don’t know. Right after this, the theater was interrupted (not in a terrifying way, however) by the Sanderson sisters from Hocus Pocus. They were holding either red solo cups or Styrofoam cups likely filled with beer and were drunk off their asses. And that’s just about the last thing I remember.

#weird dreams #ramblings

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purrincess-chat · 7 years

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How to Catch a Ladybug CH2

Ayyy! Finally updated something after forever! Here is the next chapter of my Lilanette fic~ It’s been so long since I introduced this, and I kept meaning to work on it, but it kept getting shoved aside. Thank you all for being patient with me lately. School has been hectic, and all of my free time to write gets put into working on my piece for the Big Bang which I can’t share with you guys until December, but I pinky promise you’ll love that one when it comes out! For now I’m going to do my best to finish up Ladrien Summer and this fic over the course of this month, and maybe work on finally finishing Fluff Month for the love square. In November I have a new fic that I’m super excited for that I want to introduce, so hopefully I can get through some of these oldies before then.

FF | AO3

Chapter 2: According to Plan

That conniving little faker! The only reason she was being so nice was to hide how horrible she really was on the inside, and Lila couldn’t believe she’d almost fallen for it. She wasn’t going to stand for it! That girl did not deserve to be a hero after the way she treated a complete stranger. Sure, Lila, had been lying, but she didn’t have to call her out like that in front of Adrien. What did she care anyways? Probably just jealous that she was taking attention away from her precious alter ego.

If only there was a way to get rid of her and knock her off her throne for good, then Lila could show the world how much better she was at being a hero than that brat. She needed to get her hands on those earrings, then she would be the new Ladybug, and Paris would have a real hero. But how was she going to get her hands on them?

She eyed Marinette, who was chatting with Mylene in the courtyard, from the second floor with a pensive frown. Marinette wasn’t aware that Lila knew her secret, so she had that advantage at least. Maybe she could swipe them when Marinette took them off. That was bound to happen eventually, right? For now, she would continue to play her friend because stealing them would be a lot easier if she was part of her inner circle, so, swallowing her disgust and planting a friendly grin on her face, she marched down to Marinette with probably the smoothest mask she had ever worn. Lila was accustomed to lying. She was good at it, and acting was only a small extension of lying, so when she pulled Marinette into a tight hug, she didn’t suspect a thing.

“Thank you so much for showing me around yesterday. Moving can be so daunting, and I really appreciate your kindness,” She said energetically. “No wonder everyone loves you; you’re such a good friend.”

“Oh, you’re welcome! As class representative, it’s my job to make sure everyone feels welcome,” She replied, waving it away.

“You’re good at your job. I feel a deep connection with you, and I’m really glad we’re friends,” She ran her fingers through Marinette’s hair and smiled. “Let’s hang out after school. I don’t know of many cool places in Paris yet.”

“Of course! I’d be happy to show you around,” Marinette agreed politely. Seems like Lila wasn’t the only good actress at the school. Marinette was better than she’d anticipated which was fine by Lila. It would only make stealing her Miraculous that much more rewarding.

“Hey, maybe we can get a group together. I’m sure Juleka and Rose would love to come as well,” Mylene suggested.

“Good idea! It’ll be more fun with a lot of friends.”

Drat.

It was going to be more difficult to get her hands on those earrings with more lingering eyes on her. Looks like her scheming was going to need a bit more time. She’d have to wait for the opportune moment to strike, but she could keep her charade up as long as Marinette could. In fact, she was going to take pleasure in forcefully befriending her.

x x x

Getting alone time with Marinette proved harder than Lila originally thought. She knew practically everyone in the school, and every time she suggested hanging out, someone always butted in. Little miss superhero was popular with or without the mask it seemed, which only vexed Lila more. Every time she changed schools, Lila had to work hard to make friends, but Marinette made it look so easy. In fact, Lila was certain that she’d hung out with more people in the last week than she had in several years.

For a moment, she almost forgot what Marinette had done to her, losing herself in the lustful call of friendship, but she wasn’t so easily fooled. It was all a façade anyhow. She knew the feeling of malice was mutual between them and that any friendliness was just as fake as Lila’s smile each time they saw each other. Perhaps she was luring her friends on all of their escapades on purpose, so that she wouldn’t have to focus on pretending the whole time, which, Lila had to admit was a smart tactic as she herself was getting worn out.

Lila had always been a good liar, but she had to give credit where credit was due. Marinette was good. Really good. In fact, she kind of admired her skill a little bit, and it pushed her to try harder. Every day her smile became more elastic, her laugh more convincing, and her excitement seemingly more genuine. If she was going to convince Marinette to trust her, she had to bring her A-game. This battle wasn’t one she could afford to lose. She just needed to get her alone.

“Good afternoon class,” Mme. Mendeleiev greeted, shutting the door behind her. “Today we will be covering the conservation of mass and energy, and then you will prepare a short presentation with a partner to present this Friday.”

Lila perked up a little. This could be her chance. All she needed was a little stroke of luck then those magical earrings would be all hers, and Paris would be rid of its pest problem. Then she could prove to Marinette that she was the better heroine after all, and the only one that Paris needs.

“Your group assignments are as follows: Adrien, Nino, and Alya, you will be a group of three to balance the odd number in the class.” Nino and Adrien fist bumped on the front row, and Mme. Mendeleiev continued. “Max and Kim, Juleka and Rose, Alix and Chloe-”

The pink haired girl sucked her teeth and slumped, and the blonde girl up front raised her hand in protest.

“Mme. Mendeleiev, you can’t possibly expect me to work with-”

“Deal with it, Chloe.” The blonde girl slumped with a low growl, prompting an eye roll from several classmates. “Ivan and Mylene, Sabrina and Nathaniel, and Marinette and Lila. I will not be reassigning groups, so don’t ask.” She shot a pointed look at Chloe, who pursed her lips sourly.

Lila sat back with a sly smirk. As it seemed, fate had smiled kindly upon her that day as Marinette glanced back at her with a cheerful grin. Now all Lila needed was a plan to get the earrings, and she was home free. Thinking about it, Marinette wouldn’t be able to do anything without revealing her own identity, how popular she could become if word got around that she was Ladybug. Then Adrien would really be eating out of the palm of her hand since she got the vibe that he had a thing for superheroines. Everything was going according to plan, now all Lila had to do was wait.

“I’m glad we got paired up to do the project, Lila. I’ve been having a lot of fun hanging out with you lately,” Marinette said after class as they headed to the locker room.

“Yeah, me too,” Lila lied smoothly.

“You’re not bummed that I got partnered with Adrien again, are you?” Alya asked with a wince, and Marinette shook her head.

“No, I mean, sure, I’d love to be in a group with him, but I’m okay if it’s you,” She said shyly, clasping her hands together in front of her. “I’m just glad Chloe didn’t get paired with either of us this time, and Sabrina got paired with someone else too, that must really be irking her.”

“Yeah, I feel bad for Alix though,” Alya remarked, glancing across the way where Chloe was lecturing a very bored-looking Alix.

“Oh well, at least maybe Chloe will have to do some work herself for once,” Marinette snorted then turned to Lila with a smile. “So, wanna come over to my house today to work on the project?”

“Absolutely. I’d love to,” Lila returned the expression with equal gusto, mentally gagging at how fake her voice sounded.

“Cool. I live just across the street, and my dad makes the best cookies you’ve ever had,” She said cheerfully, a slight spring in her step as they entered the locker room. Lila wondered what the beast’s parents were like, and she imagined ugly, decrepit creatures with sharp teeth and glowing red eyes.

“Can’t wait.”

It was the moment she’d been waiting for all week. A chance to be alone with Marinette, and she was leading her right where Lila wanted. Soon enough the world would be rid of that horrible bug monster, and Lila would reign supreme.

“Welcome home, sweetie,” A surprisingly normal and round-toothed Mrs. Cheng greeted when they walked through the doors of the bakery.

“Hey, Mom,” Marinette replied, pecking her cheek. “This is my new friend Lila. We’re partners on a chemistry project, so we’ll be upstairs, okay?”

“Need some brain fuel?” The largest and most jolly man she’d ever seen asked, offering a plate of the most delicious smelling chocolate chip cookies, and Lila felt her mouth water a little.

“Thanks, Papa,” Marinette giggled, stretching up to kiss him.

Lila was a little taken aback by how sugary sweet they all were. She was certain that her family would be cold and authoritative to raise such a skilled liar like Marinette, but perhaps the apple didn’t fall far from the tree in that case. Maybe their whole nice act was just a front to hide their problems from the outside world.

“Your parents seem nice,” She commented, observing Marinette’s expression as she set the cookies down on the coffee table. If there was any sense of sorrow or disdain in her expression, Lila didn’t detect it, and her bright smile spread across her lips effortlessly.

“They are. They’re always happy when I bring friends home,” She said without missing a beat.

“Right.” She eyed the cookies on the plate wondering if they were poisoned or laced with some sort of sedative.

“You can have one,” Marinette urged, picking one up and chomping into it cheerfully. Lila pursed her lips, supposing that she wouldn’t eat one if they were harmful, so she grabbed one too while Marinette dug out her textbook. “So, why don’t we split up the chapter and pick out key points that we want to highlight and work from there?”

Lila hated to admit Marinette was right about the cookies being some of the best she’d ever eaten, and it boiled her blood that Marinette was so much better than her at everything. Better at lying, better at luring people in, better at getting attention. Lila hated her guts.

“Is everything alright?” Lila blinked, realizing she was glaring at the cookie, and she quickly plastered on a smile.

“Yeah, totally. That sounds great.”

“Awesome,” Marinette beamed, turning back to her book, and Lila’s scowl returned.

Things weren’t going according to plan, and she supposed that Marinette wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Nevertheless, Lila shoved the rest of her cookie into her mouth to mask her conspiring expression. She liked a challenge.

#miraculous ladybug #lilanette #lila rossi #marinette dupain-cheng #how to catch a ladybug #my writing

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junker-town · 4 years

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Walter McCarty has put Evansville back on the map

Evansville Aces basketball was once a small college powerhouse. Walter McCarty is working on bringing that energy back.

With a little over four minutes left to play, the only fans making noise in Rupp Arena are wearing purple and orange. They have plenty to celebrate: Noah Frederking had just drained a three-point shot to extend the Evansville Aces’ lead against the No. 1 Kentucky Wildcats to 61-55.

Evansville has been the better team for the entire game. A small contingent of Evansville faithful made the trip to Lexington, strategically seated in sections 36 and 236, off in the corner of the arena. As the game reaches its climax, those sections are loud enough to overpower the home crowd: “Aces! Aces!”

After Kentucky’s Immanuel Quickley’s missed three-pointer, Keion Brooks Jr. grabs an offensive rebound and lays it in to make it 61-57. But Kentucky isn’t supposed to be satisfied with trimming Evansville’s lead to four. Kids around the arena look worried, and their parents do too, even while trying to act like everything is fine.

With the score at 63-60 and Evansville in possession, the crowd wakes up, desperate for a stop. They’ve been working hard all game to try to get their team back into the contest, a testament to how good Kentucky fans are and how much trouble they’re in.

The Aces’ K.J. Riley goes in for a contested layup, misses, grabs the offensive rebound with two Wildcats over his back, and tips it in to give his team a five-point lead with 1:41 to go. The hopeful Kentucky cheers die down, replaced by a booming roar from the corner of the arena. The noise is both shocking and impressive, coming from such a tiny group of fans. Walter McCarty, Evansville’s coach, claps twice and doesn’t lose composure, immediately looking to the other end of the floor to watch his team play defense. He knows he has the Wildcats right where he wants them.

And now things are starting to feel very real: Evansville might beat No. 1 Kentucky at Rupp Arena.

McCarty, his assistants Bennie Seltzer and Terrence Commodore (better known as T.C.), and his best friend Troy White are eating Mister B’s pizza and wings in the players’ lounge on the University of Evansville campus. Their final practice at home had just wrapped up, and the team takes off for Lexington on Monday. On the TV, the 1-7 Falcons are playing the Saints.

“God dang, he’s slow,” Seltzer says of quarterback Matt Ryan after a scramble. Everybody in the room is laughing.

“I might be able to beat him in a race right now,” McCarty replies.

“Look at Matt Ryan’s face, look at the determination!” Seltzer says after a replay is shown.

Even the ability to gather in the players’ lounge, watch some football and eat in peace is a testament to the work that McCarty has done at Evansville. His players and staff enjoy being at the facility. They can relax there. It’s not rare for players to funnel in and out of his office. Their practice facility is a home for everybody involved with Evansville basketball, and McCarty wouldn’t have it any other way.

The 6’10, salt-and-pepper bearded McCarty was raised on the south side of Evansville, just on the western side of Highway 41, which runs north-south and splits the city in two. He grew up with one brother, two sisters, his mother and a stepdad who came around when he was in early elementary school.

Walter’s mother Joy worked at Eaton Axle in the assembly line across the river in Henderson, Kentucky, and would pick up waitressing at the American Legion or at a bar to make extra money for the family. His stepdad, Steven Lindsey, worked at Alcoa, an aluminum producer, and went to sleep early, having to start work at 4 a.m. When Joy was going into work, Steven was coming home, and vice versa. “[My siblings and I] weren’t alone,” McCarty says. “We were stable. But you know, they weren’t really strict.”

In sixth grade, he met Troy White while at Plaza Park in middle school, an East Side kid. The two bonded over basketball. As they got older, their relationship developed, and now they’re damn near inseparable. McCarty and White aren’t like peanut butter and jelly. Peanut butter and jelly are like McCarty and White.

”We kind of know how to play off each other,” McCarty says. “You know how they say like twins have a certain connection? It’s not like that, but we’ve been around each other so long, we’re almost the same.”

Basketball started clicking for McCarty at Harrison High School basketball camps. “I went from 6’3 in eighth grade, to the start of my freshman year at 6’7. It was crazy, but at the same time, it started clicking, and that’s when I knew right there, I wanted to play. Then like, when you grow to be 6’10, to me, I was like, ‘Man, this is my way out. I gotta do it. This is my way out.’”

It was. Basketball took McCarty to Lexington and the University of Kentucky, where he won a national championship in 1996 under Rick Pitino. While at Kentucky, McCarty forged a bond with Tony Delk so strong that he describes him as another brother.

“When I think about Kentucky, and I think about Lexington, I think about that brotherhood and the connection we had with each other,” he says. “I don’t think about Kentucky as the basketball mecca; it’s about the brotherhood that we had when we were there. Kentucky’s always had great teams and will continue to have great teams. But it’s about the relationships that I built there.”

”One of his nicknames in college was ‘Mr. Personality,’” White says. McCarty cracks up, adding that the nickname was “given to me by Jamal Mashburn.”

It’s an accurate nickname. When McCarty is in a room, he radiates an energy everybody feeds off. He has a deep voice, booming when it has to be, soft when he sings. He’s good about being kind to everybody, introducing himself to people when he gets a vibe they might be too shy to talk to him. If he senses somebody is having a bad time, he takes it upon himself to fix it.

”He knows how to work with people, he knows how to develop relationships,” White says. “He knows when he develops a relationship, how to maintain it. Never has his success gotten to him in such a way that he has forgotten who he is at his core.”

McCarty was taken by the New York Knicks in the first round of the 1996 NBA Draft, selected 19th overall. White followed McCarty to New York and spent his rookie season with him there. Just two kids from Evansville, taking on New York City.

”To grow up in Evansville, and to be able to have a friend that thinks enough of you to put you in a situation that could ultimately change your life, like,” he pauses, collecting himself, “Those experiences that he’s given me have changed my life. It’s not something I take for granted.”

After enjoying their pizza and wings, plus a surprising Atlanta Falcons’ victory, McCarty, White and Seltzer make their way to Mo’s House, a bar in Evansville’s Haynie’s Corner Arts District owned by Moriah Hobgood, one of the city’s most influential entrepreneurs.

The men enter, and head for the outdoor area that opened in April. It’s a beautiful day, 66 degrees with just a few clouds. McCarty and Seltzer have their cigar boxes, spark a couple, and ask for coffees with bourbon cream. White gets a hot chocolate, because he’s not a drinker.

McCarty pulls out his portable speaker and lets some Babyface play. There are hardly any people at Mo’s right now, but it won’t stay that way for long. For now, McCarty is letting the music ride, and is singing along. Conversation among the three floats all over the place, from college hoops to Lamar Jackson’s latest eye-popping touchdown to Dion Waiters having a panic attack over an edible. At times they let things pass in silence because they have the type of relationship where nothing needs to be said. Everybody is perfectly fine enjoying each other’s physical presence.

This bar is where McCarty wants to be if they beat Kentucky. “We going to come back here and tell Mo, ‘Mo, you’re opening, Mo. We’re going to Mo’s right now, off the bus!’”

As the bar gets busier, a fan comes up to McCarty, shakes his hand, and wishes him luck against Kentucky, but in a way that implied he had no confidence in McCarty’s team.

McCarty ignores the slight and replies, “Yeah, we’ll get ‘em.”

The University of Evansville has a rich basketball history. A small college powerhouse under Arad McCutchan, they routinely beat Division I schools, and even had an undefeated national championship season in 1965. Coached by the man they called “Mac” and powered by legends like Larry Humes and Jerry Sloan, the Aces won five national titles.

When the program moved up to Division I in 1977, a smooth transition seemed likely. There were talented players on the squad, and in Bobby Watson they had a fresh face who looked like a worthy successor to Mac after his retirement.

But on December 13 of that same year, as the team was traveling to play Middle Tennessee State, their plane clipped trees in the Melody Hills neighborhood on Evansville’s north side, and fell into a ravine. All 29 people on board Indiana Air Flight 216 died. More than 40 years later, the accident is still known as “The Night It Rained Tears.”

There’s no telling where Aces basketball would be today had it not been for that tragic night. The program’s most successful coach since the crash has been Jim Crews, who made four NCAA tournaments in 16 years and has a banner hanging in the rafters at the Ford Center, where the Aces play today. That’s fine for a mid-major, but because of the success the school had as a small college program, there’s always been a nagging feeling that Evansville could do better.

The legacy of the plane crash is a generational gap among Aces fans. Most that show up to games nowadays are older than the average college hoops crowd. They’re the ones who remember when the Aces were a must-see. For the past four decades, that hasn’t been the case. Evansville has long had the type of crowds that mostly cheer when a player is subbed out and had a good performance, or when the fight song is playing. But that’s changing.

When McCarty was hired in March 2018, Evansville immediately felt his presence. He is the most important hire that the university has made since Mac called it quits. The university needed a young, energetic, intelligent basketball mind, and now they have one.

McCarty, then an assistant with the Boston Celtics, had interviews with other schools, but Evansville ended up working out perfectly, even when it may not have seemed like it to him. The recruiting process went fast. After a phone interview, Evansville’s athletic director Mark Spencer had a chat with Celtics head coach Brad Stevens. Stevens later told McCarty, “Man, I don’t know what you did, but this guy, he loves you.”

After a second interview, boosters were lined up to call McCarty. McCarty was in New Orleans, with the Celtics set to play the Pelicans.

”I’m waiting on these boosters to call, I’m trying to find the Kentucky game, and go somewhere and smoke a cigar,” McCarty says. “I found a place, turned this game on, and a booster calls me and it goes great. The next booster calls me, and it goes great. The next booster calls, goes great. All I’m thinking is, ‘They hear all this shit in the background, this ain’t the guy.’ Because I’m watching Kentucky basketball, it was just like, ‘I blew that shit, I blew it.’ Not knowing that I did a great job.”

A day later, Spencer hinted to McCarty, “When you come home on your trip, I might not let you leave.”

But despite the reassurance, McCarty didn’t have high hopes. The Celtics were about to go to Portland to start a two-week road trip, so McCarty sent his bags on ahead with the team. He was planning on going to Evansville, doing his interview, and joining the Celtics in Portland afterward.

As Spencer drove McCarty back to his hotel in downtown Evansville with then-senior associate athletic director Lance Wilkerson in the back seat, Spencer showed McCarty just how badly the university wanted him there.

“Mark hands me the contract, and he’s like, ‘I told you I wasn’t going to let you leave. I don’t want you to leave,’” McCarty says. “He was really emotional about it.”

The trio went up to McCarty’s room where he signed the contract and became the eighth head coach in Evansville’s history.

McCarty was an easy choice, not only for the school, but for the assistants who have joined him along the way.

”Everything that our guys are trying to accomplish, our coach has already been through it,” Seltzer says. “So why wouldn’t you listen to him? Why wouldn’t that be a focal point of, ‘Hey man, this guy really knows what he’s talking about’? And I think that really translates to our guys. He’s done it in a way where – you know I’ve coached with guys that curse the kids out, talk shit to them and talk crazy to them. I’ve also coached with guys where once you leave the gym, you’ll never see them. You gotta talk to the secretary to schedule an appointment, that’s crazy. That’s crazy to me. And here, Coach is — he’s accessible as any coach I’ve ever been with and I think our guys appreciate that. That’s different; that hardly happens anywhere.”

The comfort the players have with coming in and out of the coaches’ offices is great, but can be a little much sometimes, as T.C. jokes, “They here so much we gotta run them off sometimes, like, don’t you got something to do?”

McCarty’s personality and energy are consistent, expressed in the culture he’s instilled at Evansville, his style as a basketball player, and his attitude as a head coach.

“I am a true kid that grew up across 41 and didn’t have a whole lot. And, shoot, I never thought in a million years I’d be the head coach at the University of Evansville. I used to pass this university every day, you know? I love sometimes on game days, I’m driving down to the arena, and I’m thinking, ‘Man, I used to go to church there,’ you know what I’m saying? It’s one of those like, ‘Damn. Good shit happens when you work.”

“I wanna be here for a long time,” he says very seriously. “That means we’re kicking ass and doing a good job. I’m here to create a program that’s going to be sustainable for a long time. That’s my goal.”

McCarty’s status as Evansville’s head coach is also significant because he is a black man. Evansville’s history as a city is complicated. Situated in a midwestern state, it also has many southern qualities. The city’s location in southwestern Indiana meant a quick trip across the Ohio River for Kentucky residents, who may not have always been as hospitable towards blacks as northerners.

When McCarty was hired, Evansville lost some big boosters. Was it because he was the university’s first black coach? “From hearing from other people in this program,” he says, “I felt that way.”

But he hasn’t let the defections faze him.

”I thought about this, coming here and being the first African-American head coach at this university. Our people here in Evansville, especially people of color — what leaders do they see, other than a parent, a pastor, or an insurance guy or something? There’s not a lot of people they can look up around and be like, ‘He’s really doing his job to bring his community together and people can look up to him.’ I gotta own that, and I got to make sure I do good by that.”

He’s not worried about the lost boosters. “Just like music, sports — those are things that bring people together, right? We’ll get ‘em back. We’ll get ‘em back. We win, we do the right thing, they’ll come back. They’ll come back. That’s what we’re betting on – building the right program, building this culture.

“If you’re an Aces fan, you love basketball, we’re going to win you back.”

White comes in through the side door around 11 a.m., just in time for practice. His arrival is timed perfectly: McCarty is making his way down the hallway right where he’s entering.

“You guys got film?” White asks.

“Yeahhh, man,” McCarty drags out in response.

White knows the drill, and goes to the practice court while the team looks over film of the Wildcats in the players lounge. Nobody is intimidated by the thought of playing against the country’s top team.

“After I got the job, I saw [John Calipari] somewhere. He comes up to me and just says, ‘Man, tell me what I can do. I’ll do anything for you, but I’m not coming to Evansville,’” McCarty says. “So I said, ‘Let’s get a game.’ He didn’t even hesitate, he’s like, ‘Let’s do it.’ And it got done.”

Film ends at 11:50 and the Aces are coming out onto the floor. Sam Cunliffe is the first one out and comes to White’s end of the court. He says something to White, who laughs and responds, “Get focused, get focused.” A couple of other players join in as the team is warming up with stretches from the baseline to half-court. White also encourages them to focus, and they do, because they respect him as much as anybody else in the building.

The pace picks up when McCarty comes out a couple minutes later decked in a gray Nike sweatsuit, a teal Jordan Brand T-shirt and some Air Jordan 3s in the Knicks’ colorway. He turns on “6 Man” by Drake, the music soon accompanied by the frenzied squeaking of sneakers on the basketball floor.

The practice court has changed since McCarty was hired. There are now banners on both ends of the gym, one with pictures of current players and the other bearing the names of Evansville Aces legends. The championship banners that once hung on the far side of the gym have been replaced by “EVERY POSSESSION MATTERS.” On the other end: “PLAY WITH A PURPOSE.”

Seltzer and T.C. walk over and start making conversation with White about the Aces win against Ball State the night before. White wasn’t able to make it because he was in Louisville at an Anthony Hamilton concert.

“I saw the score at half and I said, ‘Oh shit, they must be playing today!’” Troy tells them with a laugh.

And they were playing. Evansville jumped out to a 40-18 halftime lead, but nearly surrendered it, ultimately winning 79-75. Today, the coaches are going to try to iron things out, because a second half like that won’t fly against Kentucky. Seltzer and T.C. work their way over towards the team, which is done stretching and ready to get to work. They’re also joined by assistant coach Logan Baumann, who has been at half-court with Isaac McGlone, the director of basketball operations for the team.

Baumann takes the Aces through a play, giving very specific instructions not just on where to be, but the angle they should take, hand placement, everything. Baumann was a part of Louisville’s 2013 national championship winning team, and by the way he handles the Aces players you can tell he’s going to be a Power 5 head coach one day. On the floor, he’s a spitting image of a top-level coach, serious and meticulous.

Baumann seems pleased with how the guys are responding to what he’s telling them, and says, “If we can get this right, we’re going to be in good shape,” which was the overarching message of the practice. They know they can win the game. McCarty adds encouragement.

“After that, it’s just about effort plays. Who wants it?”

“If you do what we tell you to do, you will make baskets.”

McCarty’s coaching style is all about trusting his players. He puts them in the right spot and gives them the tools to succeed, and then it’s up to them. He’s taken bits and pieces from the men he’s worked under, but he’s his own guy.

He learned Xs and Os from playing all five positions throughout his career. Having learned the basics as a player, once he became a coach it was mostly about fine-tuning. “For me, I’ve always made it a point to figure out and ask, ‘Well why are you successful?’ Whether it was with Coach P (Rick Pitino), Mike D’Antoni, Jeff Van Gundy, Mike Dunleavy, Jim O’Brien, Brad Stevens, I’ve always done that.”

McCarty is confident in his players, and confident in himself too. He has to be. “In practice sometimes, I may go off script,” he says. “I’ll be like, ‘OK, board,’ and just start working. So I have that command and attention, but that confidence in the game for whatever I’m doing. Because if there’s any hesitation, if there’s any sign that you don’t believe it or whatever, shit, they see it. And then it really ain’t gonna work.

”I tell my guys, ‘Go make the right play. Just go have fun, go make the right play.’ We’re starting to build that confidence. What you’re doing is you’re letting them know that you trust them, but what you get out of it is, they’re going to run through a wall for you.”

That confidence and calm was still present as the team prepared to go to Lexington. On a cold and drizzly day in Evansville, it was business as usual for the Aces. Popeyes three-pieces awaited the team on the bus, though some players opted to go to the student center across the street and grab some Chick-fil-A.

McCarty was the last one on the bus, and looked like he had just walked out of his barber’s chair. McCarty knows when you look good, typically you do good: there’s an invincible feeling that comes with a fresh cut. He put off his haircut just so he would look his best for his return to Lexington.

The next morning, the team is at shootaround at Rupp Arena around 11 a.m. The guys are warming up, and McCarty is looking up into the rafters, where Kentucky’s old-timey banners hang displaying Final Four appearances, runners-up and national championships. He says, “It’s a great day to be a Purple Ace.”

The warmup line gets down to the baseline where he’s standing, and he says, “You see that?” to a couple of Aces, pointing to the 1996 championship banner. “I did that.” The players get a kick out of it, and keep on going about their business.

The team is doing one last walkthrough of what to expect later on in the evening, and players and coaches remain focused and detailed. When going through a play, McCarty tells his team, “You gotta ask yourself, ‘What can I do for my teammates?’” he says. “You guys are going to have open shots all night.”

After they break the final huddle concluding practice, the team sits on the bench they will occupy later that night. They are still very loose for a mid-major walking into an environment like this. Kentucky has a 39-game win streak as an AP No. 1 team at home against non-conference opponents, and the empty arena has an ominous feeling to it.

Then, redshirt sophomore DeAndre Williams gets loud.

“Great day to be a Purple Ace!” he yells. He begins to clap, and clap hard. “Give me that shit, coach! Great day to be a Purple Ace!”

Evansville’s Shamar Givance brings the ball down the floor with less than a minute to go. Kentucky’s Tyrese Maxey is sliding down the court with him step by step. With a late, tight lead, McCarty makes his guys slow things down. Clock is burning. His guys are calm, and they can focus on executing, which is exactly what he stresses in practice. They’re prepared for this moment, and they know it.

After a handful of dribbles at the logo, Givance gets the ball to K.J. Riley, who drives and kicks the ball out to a wide open Noah Frederking. Evansville’s bench rises at the same time Frederking’s shot does, and you could feel the soul draining out of Big Blue Nation as the ball hung in the air. If the shot goes in, the game is done.

It doesn’t, and the Wildcats get a quick two on the other end thanks to Immanuel Quickley. There are 44.5 seconds left, and going from the near-dagger to a quick Kentucky basket could have spelled doom for the Aces. Had Frederking hit that shot, Kentucky fans would be walking back to their cars. Instead, the Wildcats have life.

Evansville drains some clock on the next possession, but aren’t able to get a shot off, and a shot clock violation is called. With 13.7 seconds left, Kentucky opts a quick two-pointer rather than a three, sending Maxey on a drive to the basket, to make it a 65-64 game with eight seconds remaining.

Everybody at Rupp Arena is on their feet. Evansville has been the better-coached team up to this point, and their players have played harder. The 25-point underdogs just need to be better than No. 1 Kentucky for eight more seconds and they will have pulled off the biggest win in program history.

Sam Cunliffe is fouled after an inbounds pass, and calmly walks to the free-throw line. He gives all his teammates five on his way to the stripe. At the line, Cunliffe gets the ball from the referee, takes a quick dribble, and wastes no time putting the basketball through the net. It silences the Rupp Arena crowd quickly, before it can even reach peak volume. He does the same on the second free throw. The Aces lead, 67-64.

Kentucky’s Nate Sestina inbounds the ball to Maxey, who dribbles quickly down the Rupp Arena logo painted on the side of the court. He pulls up just to the side of the bottom of the K on the UK logo at mid-court while Evansville’s Artur Labinowitz carefully contests the shot, avoiding giving Kentucky three foul shots. The high arching shot falls short, and Riley dribbles the ball to safety. McCarty, cool as ever, walks down the court to shake hands with John Calipari and the Wildcats.

The Evansville Aces, under former Kentucky national champion Walter McCarty, have gone into Lexington and beat the Wildcats on their home court.

The elevator going down to the floor level is mostly Kentucky fans with mostly unhappy faces. But one older lady clutches her purse and says, “So Walter came into Rupp Arena and beat ‘em!? Look at that!”

Just inside the tunnel is White, who is jumping up and down, beside himself with excitement. “You come in this motherfucker and win!?” he yells. “That is fucking amazing!”

“I got to call my mom,” he says, pacing and jumping. “I got to call my mom.” He calls her. “Mama! I don’t know if you were watching the game, but Walter just beat Kentucky. Just beat them at Kentucky, Mom! They just beat Kentucky at home, Ma! Oh, my gosh!” He’s still jumping while on the phone.

Tony Delk makes his way into the tunnel and jokes with White, “Get off the phone, man! Get off the phone!” They exchange dap, and share an almost violent hug.

After doing his interviews on the court, McCarty is escorted to the locker room by Isaac McGlone and sports information director Bob Pristash. He daps up and hugs Delk, and starts to walk into the locker room, before seeing White. The two share a big hug, and as McCarty starts to walk away he turns around, leans forward a bit, and says, “What I tell you? I told you we was gon’ get ‘em.”

As soon as McCarty walks into the locker room, he’s showered with water from re-filled Gatorade bottles. He collects as many of his players as he can in his long arms, and hugs them with all his might. The white-and-blue checkered tile in the locker room is soaked, and it’s dangerous, but it doesn’t matter right now. Nothing matters. Evansville beat Kentucky.

The calm and discipline that led them into the game is long gone.

”We fuckin’ beat Kentucky! We fuckin’ beat Kentucky!”

”I’mma call you back!”

”A bunch, a bunch of notifications.”

”The best thing that happened to me since I come here.”

”I can’t even deal with it right now!”

”Is there a towel back there? Or all they all wet?”

”We’re probably trending No. 1.”

”We’re the No. 1 topic in the country on Twitter.”

”Who puts fuckin’ tile on the goddamn floor?”

McCarty’s first order of business is the press conference. He changes into an all-black team-issued sweatsuit. While he’s addressing the media, he lifts his hand to scratch his face, and the blue gems from his 1996 national championship ring seem to shine in the light with little more color than usual.

McCarty then goes out to greet the Evansville fans who stuck around. One of them waiting for him is Mo. They share a hug, and she agrees to open up the House when everyone gets back to Evansville late that same night.

He greets the others who have waited for him, a mix of Evansville fans and Kentucky fans who wanted to congratulate one of their own. He takes pictures, gives dap, squeezes out hugs, and signs autographs. One fan is standing in the bleachers just yelling, “I LOVE WALTAH!” over and over.

But McCarty’s just getting started with what’s about to be an overwhelming amount of media requests. He heads to the coaches’ locker room with Evansville’s sports information director Bob Pristash and director of media relations Michael Robertson. McCarty is seated in the corner locker, and finally has a chance to look at his phone.

The first person he calls is his wife Erin. Before he gets off the phone with her, he’s led to believe that he’s about to do the first of many national media appearances. Technical difficulties buy him some time, so he makes another quick call, then says to me, “Watch this.”

McCarty dials back a number, the tone rings a few times, and all of a sudden, somebody is yelling, “You bad motherfucker!”

It’s Patrick Ewing.

“Beast! What’s up, baby!?” McCarty replies with joy and laughter.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, boy!” Ewing yells back.

After hanging up with Ewing, McCarty turns his phone to me, showing off his 284 unread text messages. By the time his SportsCenter interview with Stan Verrett is over and he gets on the bus to go back to Evansville, there are 304.

”How stupid is that?” he says with a laugh that’s heavily coated with disbelief, “I really gotta go through that? I don’t even wanna do that!”

When McCarty finally steps onto the bus, and starts an impromptu speech with, “I thought we could do it. I knew we could do it. But when you do it.”

”Guys, we are the No. 1 trend in the world right now,” he continues. “Evansville’s the No. 1 trend right now in the world! Shit’s going crazy right now! Hey, we gotta keep building on this, man. Keep building! I know I say it all the time, we got enough guys. If we just play connected, man, we can do anything.”

Anything seems possible in the unreal moments after the game. On the bus, everybody buries themselves in their phones, absorbed by all the attention being thrown their way.

At one point, Charles Barkley calls to congratulate the team, so McCarty put him on speakerphone and walks towards the middle and back of the bus. Barkley tells them to enjoy the win but to get back to work. Once he gets off the phone, DeAndre Williams cracks, “Can we talk to LeBron now?!”

The coaches spend the rest of the bus ride reflecting, a perhaps-futile attempt to absorb the magnitude of what just happened. “Only time I’ve ever felt like that was when we won it all,” Baumann says, seated behind McCarty at the front of the bus. “That was crazy.”

Seltzer, who is across the aisle from McCarty, pulls up an old photo of himself while he was an assistant at Indiana. His hands are raised, and he’s running towards the court, and you can see a leg with blue and white shorts, socks, and shoes on. The picture was taken when Christian Watford and the Hoosiers sank No. 1 Kentucky in Bloomington in 2011.

Baumann tells McCarty that he just got word of a group of about 200 or 300 students waiting for the team outside the Carson Center, and that a pep rally is going to be held the next day to celebrate.

McCarty is incredulous, but Seltzer replies, “When you do something that’s never been done, you gotta do something that’s never done.”

The team is almost back to Evansville, and by now the bus is mostly quiet. McCarty looks up from his phone and shakes his head, smiling and laughing.

“Did we just do that?” he says. “That’s fucking crazy.”

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doutzensaintjames-blog · 7 years

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Twelve25Sixteen || Zenada

Tagging → @nevada--saunders Mentions of → Stripping, family, death, alcohol, suicide, and aspirations. Time Frame → December 25, 2016 Location → Blue Flame in New Orleans & Hallow Grove Notes → The day Nevada and Doutzen met. This is a continuation of this para x.

Doutzen allowed him to take hold of her heel. She watched in fascination as he examined the shoe. The girl loved her shoes, so the fact that he took notice of them was a point in his favor. Doutzen returned her foot back to its original position before answering, "You're right. You'd totally fall," she teased. Before she could think twice about it, she answered him honestly, "I wear heels practically every day and I trained in several types of dance, so I'm good at walking on my toes. That's the trick. Well that, practice, and a little magic." She wasn't sure why she'd told him that. In fact, had a client asked she'd have normally said something cheeky. Doutzen decided to take a sip of the drink, eyeing him over the rim. It was trick she learned caused her clients to perceive she was trying to seduce them, while it also gave her time to gather her wits and decide her next move. Removing the glass from her lips, licking them as she did, "So how are you liking New Orleans?"

Nevada swirled the liquid around in the crystal glass, peering up at the brunette. Listening to every word that she spoke as he let out a soft chuckled. "Magic, indeed. How long have you been dancing, if you don't mind me asking." Letting his eyes go back to wandering, except this time they stayed upon the female. The male let out a deep sigh and took a sip of the whiskey, "Don't know, only my first day visiting. I live about thirty minutes away-- in which I've only recently moved here less than a week ago. I can tell you that the food is good, one opinion that always matters to me."

Doutzen set the glass back down besides her, running her finger along the brim as she debated answering him. She tossed her head to the side, her hair shifting along with the motion and cascading over her shoulder. She gave that same shoulder a slight shrug. However, once he answered her regarding New Orleans, she figured she had nothing to lose in telling him anything since he didn't live near the club and the likelihood of them both living in the same small town was slim. "I've been dancing for nineteen years," she told him, leaning in closer so only he heard her over the music, "My father took me to my first lesson, and I never stopped." Her eyes traveled from his lips to his eyes, "And I agree completely, about the food I mean."

Nevada shifted in his chair lips pressing together while watching every moment the girl made. The boy whistled, "Nineteen years--" Nev paused for a moment, "You've stuck with it since, that's impressive. I've never been much of a dancer, not very light on my toes. So, I'll give you props." Nev flashed Doutzen one of his smiles, "the beignets are excellent."

Doutzen smirked at how Nevada was impressed by her commitment to dance. It felt nice to have a man who hadn't even had her give him a lap dance compliment her in regards to her dancing. Her fingers found their way to his hand, dancing their way up his arm as she spoke, "Oh I'm sure you're a better dancer than you think," she countered. His smile was much nicer up close. It was also infectious. Doutzen chuckled a little. "So you have a sweet tooth?" she questioned. "You know... They call me Honey." She offered up her stripper name partly to see if he'd flirt back, but also to find out his name.

Nevada his eyes flashed down to her fingers before flickering back up to her. "I'll beg to differ," he murmured with a soft shrug. Nev brought the glass to his lips to take another sip, eventually just tossing back the rest. Licking the remaining substance from his lips, the smile turning into a smirk. "Sure," Nev cocked his head to the side, "Bears do like their honey." The blonde closed his eyes for a second, leaning back in his chair to stretch. "Nevada."

Doutzen giggled at his flirtatious joke, surprising herself as she did so. When he offered up his name, she considered asking him if that was his real name. Although she stopped herself since it could imply that she'd have to share her real name. And though she doubted she'd ever see him again, she still wanted to take a few chances as possible. So the brunette chose to focus on the former of what he said. "Bear? And what exactly qualifies you as a bear?" she asked with a raised brow.

Nevada bit his lip, pleased that he got the female to laugh. With her asking the male, pulled up the right side of his shirt exposing a tattoo on the side of his ribs. There embossed with a bear, one he had gotten almost six years ago.

Doutzen barely got a glimpse of the tattoo, since she immediately reached forward to push his shirt back down. Knowing the guards would take that as a sign of him being inappropriate or trying to have sex with her. She leaned close to his ear, "Let's get a private room," she purred in his ear. A voice she used that made it hard for a man to say no.

Nevada had no intentions on staying long when he first entered the strip club. Yet, more the brunette batted her eyelashes at him and purred in his ear made him think otherwise. Nev raised a brow, "lead the way."

Doutzen grinned before slipping her hand into his and gently sliding her leg to the other side of him so she was no longer straddling him. She slid off the bar and onto her feet, pulling him up to his own and finally realizing the fully height of him. He didn't give off the vibe of a tall man, but standing next to him Doutzen realized she had what seemed like a gentle giant on her hands, which only furthered her grooving intrigue. Holding onto his hand she gracefully navigated the floor towards the provate rooms. Doutzen lead him into an open room already enjoying how much quieter it was. She closed the door once they were in then turn around to face him. "Now you can show me, she gestured towards his tattoo which she was completely interested in now.

Nevada let the brunette take his hand and pull him from his chair. By the time the blonde was standing he was gazing down at the stripper. Clearly, there was a big difference between their heights. Nev followed Dotuzen almost like a lost puppy, letting his eyes wander to every part of her body he couldn't see before. There was that wild smirk again. The male gripped the fabric of his shirt and pulled up, only exposing the bear tattoo.

Doutzen watched as he lifted his shirt, revealing his inked skin. Doutzen took a step closer to get a better look at it. She was still a bit amused by how tall he was. Even in her six inche heels, she was still tiny in comparison. Doutzen didn't have any tattoos, but she still found them interesting and beautiful. The detail in Nevada's was intriguing. Not able to help herself she took another step forward and pressed her fingers against his skin tracing the image. The brunette looked up at him from the position she was in, a big of awe in her eyes, "This is gorgeous," she complimented the work.

Nevada hadn't expected for the brunette to get that close, or even touch the tattoo. His body shivering as her delicate fingers traced the tattoo, goosebumps raising upon his skin. Not only but the blonde let out a soft chuckled, it slightly tickling his skin. Nev kept still even when Doutzen looked up at him. "Thank you-- do you have any yourself?" He asked even though he couldn't place any one her from all her exposed skin.

Doutzen hadn't noticed she tickled him. Thinking his pulling away may have been a subconscious reaction to the surprise of her touch, and his laughter from amusement in how interested she was. "Sorry, I should have asked first," she thought better of herself. Taking a step back from Nevada, she chuckled at his question, "No, not one." Doutzen ran her hand along her side. "There aren't that many places I could hide one. So what you see, is what you get."

Nevada shook his head and released the grip upon his shirt. "It's fine." The boy reached up running fingers back through his hair nervously. Giving a soft smile towards the brunette as he subconsciously watched her hand move. "That's okay-- I'm not picky," he was surprised by his words even though they were only half true. The male now took his time to look around the small room and eventually moved to take a seat.

Doutzen remained standing, observing Nevada. He was completely out of place the more she watched him or listened to him speak. The man didn't belong in a strip club. "Are you sure you don't want me to dance for you?" she asked once more. Though at this point she didn't mind if he said yes or no. Doutzen hadn't wanted to come into work anyway, but having him for company for the night seemed like a nice way to spend her evening.

Nevada rubbed his hand along his thighs nervously and shook his head. "While it's a great thought, I'll pass--" he lifted his gaze towards her. "You don't have to dance for me, I already know you're probably one of the best ones here for how long you've been dancing." He paused, "It's still christmas night.. maybe, I came here for some company. Didn't want to be alone on the holiday or something--" he let out a soft chuckle, even though he had been alone most of his life or at least preferred it.

Doutzen leaned against the pole in the room as she await his response. When he said no, she shrugged her shoulders and waltzed over towards him. Taking a seat beside him once she reached where he sat. Nevada really was an attractive man. She was sure some girls may even drool over him. Doutzen leaned one arm on the back of the seat while she faced him. "Why are you alone?" she wondered. She doubted his reasoning for being there, though she didn't say it aloud. He didn't seem like the type to need someone, nor did she think he was that into Christmas.

Nevada leaned his head back, staring up at the glowing lights at he gave thought to her question. Why was he really alone? "I don't know, I guess I prefer it and.. I told you earlier that I just moved here, so, I have no friends and family around. My mom and grandma are back in Cali."

Doutzen was surprised they were both from the west coast. At least that's what she assumed he meant by his family being in California. "Really? I'm from Portland," she offered the information up. Why was she saying things she normally wouldn't she wasn't sure. Maybe it was the idea she'd never see him again. Maybe it was just something about him specifically. But whatever the reason she simply felt inclined to share.

Nevada "Portland?" He question, "Portland is a nice place, I've been there several times. Though, I'm actually from Michigan but have lived in Cali since I was eight with my mom." He peered back towards the brunette, "why are you here, on Christmas night?"

Doutzen gave a humorless laugh. "Because my boss called me into work," she stated though she knew that wasn't what he was really asking. "I've never been to Michigan or California, or really much of anywhere so I can safely say you've probably seen more of the world than I have."

Nevada didn't want to imply anymore about her answer, so he let it pass. The boy chuckled, "Mostly all of the west coast mainly-- though, I will get to it someday."

Doutzen liked his laugh. It was sort of musical in a way. "Still more than I have I'm sure. Other than here and Portland, I've been to Vegas twice on spring and summer break."

Nevada shook his head, "Ah, Vegas. I've passed through but never plan on stopping, probably never will. When you're named after a state where you were conceived kind of turns you away from it."

Doutzen gave Nevada a look of surprise, "So your name really is Nevada?" That tidbit of information made her want to get to know him, which Doutzen hardly made a habit of doing. At least not anything beyond the surface of getting to know someone. "I think you just haven't been with the right person. Any Place can be worthwhile with the right person beside you. You know?"

Nevada gave a slow nod, "Yes, but I mostly go by Nev. Either my mom or grandma are the only ones who actually call me by my full name." He simply shrugged. The blonde grew quiet but simply waved off the females words. After his last relationship he hadn't had much hope in finding that person. "Sure." He quickly changed the subject, "You mentioned being on spring and summer break. You're in school-- what is your major?"

Doutzen "Nev?" Doutzen repeated the word, enjoying how it rolled off the tongue. It fit him. She wasn't sure how she knew, but it did fit. The brunette watched how his demeanor changed and how he didn't seem to have conviction in his agreement. "You know when I say the right person, I mean anyone. Friend, family, whatever," having never been in love or even considering a romantic relationship could hold much value you. It was the last thing to come to her mind. Even when her relationship ended with her first and only boyfriend, it hardly felt like anything monumental. In fact, the girl was more bummed about not having sex than the relationship itself. "Well that was when I was going for my bachelors degree. I was majoring in sociology, but I'm in med school now."

Nevada watched and listened to her saying his name. "Hmn, yeah, all I have is my mom and grandma but.. my mom has her own family now. My grandma retired to an assisted living home. LA just got old for me, nothing was getting better. Needed something different for once, you know?" There was a part of Nev that was still hurting whether it was from the breakup or not. Part of him still was drowning. "Med school.. that's impressive. What are you hoping to work in? I've always thought neurology would be interesting. I'm guessing this," he gestured around the room, "just a side job?"

Doutzen wasn't sure how to respond to his description of his family. So she didn't comment on it. Her own family had been complicated, so she could understand if for one reason or another his was the same. "Yeah. I understand. Felt the same way when I left Portland. It was just sad like there was nothing left for me there." She could feel the same painful thoughts that she held during that time bubbling up in her, but she did her best to push him back down. "What can I say? I'm an impressive girl," she chuckled. "I haven't completely decided although I'm leaning towards orthopedic surgery. I was originally considering dance therapy, but I realized people just aren't my thing." She leaned further into her arm, eyes locked on Nevada. "So no nuerology for me." Glancing around their surroundings, she'd almost forgotten they were in the club. "Well it actually started as a hobby, but med school isn't cheap and I wasn't able to get the same scholarships I got in college so it became a job. I actually haven't decided when and if I'll quit this," Doutzen looked back at Nevada, "I love pole dancing."

Nevada looked towards the female as if she could feel everything he had felt right in that moment. The man took a deep breath and looked away, letting his eyes focus on something else. With brows furrowed Nev turned his body to look at her. "People aren't your thing, yet you work here?" His blue eyes narrowed, studying her dark hues. They flickered towards the pole in the middle of the room, for a second contemplating a dance from her. "I love music," he mumbled, hearing the soft music that played out in the club. "I'm a music Education Teacher, mostly I work with elementary kids. Also, I compose-- but that's more of a side hobby, though, it has paid most of my bills for me." It wasn't often he mentioned being a composer, mostly because he went by a different alias.

Doutzen found his point amusing. "You don't have to like people to work in a strip club, Nev. Just move your body, bat your eyes, and laugh at the right time. It's all one big charade. So I mean I guess I get people on a superficial level, but anything beyond that. Well that's just not me." She shifted her weight so that her feet were now tucked beneath her. Doutzen listened intently as he told her more about himself. She found herself wondering would they even be having this conversation had they met under different circumstances. Though truthfully she knew that they'd probably never would have spoken. "You are?" She loved music herself. Granted it was more moving to it than making it. "You do? I wonder if I've ever heard anything you've created before," she wondered aloud with a grin. The girl liked the idea that'd she'd been listening to something he'd created and maybe that was the reason she felt so at ease with him. It explained a lot about him. "So you like kids? What's your favorite instrument?"

Nevada pressed his lips together making a small face. "I don't see how you do it-- this is only my third time being in a strip club before which was back in my early twenties when I went. Honestly, I think you're the most attractive one I've met so far." He gave the female a warm smile. Music was Nevada life, it was what go him through all of the years. "I've composed scores for film and TV but I go under an alias--" Nevada pulled out his phone to show the brunette a recent piece he had worked on with another, one that had been featured in a popular movie. "My favorite instrument-- well, I love piano but guitar. It was the first instrument I've ever owned."

Doutzen sat up straight as he mentioned his early twenties. "How old are you?" She hadn't thought he was that much older than her. Though when she heard him compliment her looks, she simply smiled. "I can't tell if that's high praise or not. Or if we are talking about just my body or my face?" She'd heard plenty of times how beautiful she was and she knew it. Though the tone in his mention of her beauty. It was less lust and more of an observation, which she took to mean more when he said it. Doutzen was surprised as he went on to explain his composing. She leaned forward to listen to the song better. "That's beautiful," she muttered, "My father would have loved that." Doutzen rarely spoke of her father, she didn't trust people to know about her like that, but the song made her think of him. How you could hear the lightness in the way the piano was played. Her dad often pointed things likes that out to her when it came to her dancing. Telling her she had to feel what the instrument was saying. "Is that you playing? Or did you just write the music? If it is you, you play beautifully. Makes me wonder how you play a guitar."

Nevada "Thirty-two," the blonde answered simply. "Both, you're very beautiful." Nev mumbled softly, smiling with his eyes. He heard the past tense of her father and didn't want to pry further. One thing Nev hated most was talking about his dead father. "Thank you-- I.. love creating music to where someone can just stop and forget about everything going on around them. Where time can just stand still.." He paused, listening to the last remainder of the song. "I wrote it, but that is me playing. I play several different instruments."

Doutzen was surprised. He wasn't vastly older than her but still older than she thought he'd be. "You're older than I thought you were," she stated matter of fact. "Thank you. You're not so bad yourself. I like your hair." She'd be lying if she said she hadn't been wanting to touch it. "What other instruments do you play?"

Nevada chuckled, "how old did you think I was?" He raised a brow only to reach up and ruffle the blonde locks, "has a mind of its own." He tried to tame the blonde hair back into place. "Guitar, piano, ukele, viola, harmonica, Mandolin, banjo..." Nev paused trying to think, "oh, and double bass."

Doutzen shrugged her shoulders. "Twenty-nine tops. You're seven years older than me, you know?" She giggled as she watched him play with his hair. It was a little endearing. "Here," she leaned forward tucking the strands back in place, and to her delight touching hair which was just as soft as she imagined. Sitting back in her previous position, slowly removing her hand from his head as he listed all the instruments he played. "Wow. You've got a thing for strings," she joked. "All I can do is sing a little."

Nevada "Twenty-five, that was what I imagined how old you were." Nevada smiled as the brunette reached out to fix his hair, he chuckled and thanked her. There was something about others touching his hair that Nev enjoyed. For the few seconds his eyes closed and he hummed at the feeling. The boys eyes drifted open when she pulled away, and there he gave her another smile. "You sing?" His smiled widened, "I sing but not that often.

Doutzen stood up and walked over to the bar in the room, she poured a glass of water. "Oh so you had me pegged?" Turning to face him, "Want one?" she offered up the decanter to show she meant a glass of water. "Only a little bit. I could see that you sing. You have a nice voice for it."

Nevada couldn't help but let his eyes wander ad Doutzen got up to move. "Hmn, oh...yes, please." His gaze softened while watching the brunette, "I'm sure you have an beautiful voice."

Doutzen finished pouring both glasses before picking them up and walking back over towards Nevada. "I'm not singing for you, if that's what you're hoping for," she stated with a laugh. "We have to be friends first before you get such an honor." She handed him a glass then took a sip of her own.

Nevada he let out a huff, "Damn." Though, he was quick to let out a soft chuckle and smile. "Thank you," he took the glass and took a long sip. Letting the water wash over his parched throat. "We're not friends? Here I just told you my whole life story--" he teased.

Doutzen scrunched her lips off to the side. "Hmmm. Not your whole life story." She swayed back and forth a bit. "Let's see you've told me your name, age, you've got a mom and grandmother in Los Angeles," she looked towards him for confirmation before continuing, "But you're originallly from somewhere in Michigan. You love music and play a bunch of instruments. I'm assuming you've got no girlfriend... or boyfriend since you're here. You think I'm pretty so I know you have good taste." She paused to take another sip of her drink, still swaying. "You teach kids. Am I forgetting something?"

Nevada nodded at every one she listed off, even counting on his fingers. "Seattle, Michigan. No, girlfriend or boyfriend. Beautiful, I think you're absolutely beautiful." He pressed his lips together, "Hmn, not bad. "

Doutzen took that moment to sit back down next to Nevada. "So you do?" she asked, then clarified by adding, "Like men?" Waving off his compliment this time, thinking he was determined to make her blush or something. "You don't need to butter me up. To be honest, when I first saw you I considered sleeping with you. Which by the way is not something I do."

Nevada nodded, "I very much like men just as much as I like my women. Though, I've never had a boyfriend more so just like my men to play around with." Nevada laughed, "Butter you up-- Is that so? Well, I'm afraid you wouldn't have gotten very far."

Doutzen "Hmm. Interesting," Doutzen was quiet for a moment. Thinking about how he said he liked to screw around with men, but wouldn't with her. "Why wouldn't I have gotten far?" She wasn't the least bit offended, more so genuinely interested.

Nevada shrugged, "I don't screw around with women, it's... seems for easy to screw around with men than women. I guess, I have to be more sexually attracted to them to do so."

Doutzen leaned back in her seat unsure of how to take that information. So instead she switched the topic. "What's your favorite color?"

Nevada narrowed his eyes, realizing the quick change in subject. Though, he wasn't judging because he had done the same thing earlier. "Sunset-- all the colors that clash together when the sun is just on the horizon. That is my favorite color... if you want to even call it a color I guess. You?"

Doutzen shook her head. "That's not a color," she guffawed, "You have to give me at least one color. Mine is mauve and taupe. And yours if you had to choose one is?"

Nevada gave her a look when she named off the colors. He got a soft sigh, "Alright-- blue." the boy said simply.

Doutzen smirked as his reaction. "You act like that was so hard," she teased. "Although I thought you would have said green or orange." She finished her water then looked down at his glass. "Want me to refill that?"

Nevada "Green is my second favorite," he assured. Nev looked down at his half filled glass before shaking his head. "I'm good thank you. Tell me.. how long have you been in New Orleans?"

Doutzen set her glass down then situated herself to a more comfortable position. "Hmmm. Well I actually don't live in New Orleans, but I live close. But I'd say about 6 or 7 years."

Nevada: me/ "Wow, that's quite the time. What brought you here-- school?" He questioned. "Do you have family here?"

Doutzen "I suppose so. It doesn't feel that long." Doutzen still felt as if she'd just moved there sometimes. "Yes school. I'm still at the same university I got accepted to when I move here." The girl shook her head to the family question. "No, well yes, but no. My dad was from here, so my grandparents and his family are burried here. I visit them sometimes even though I never got to know them when they were alive."

Nevada "How much longer until you've finished?" He asked. The blonde kept quiet for a moment, "What about your family back in Portland?"

Doutzen smiled at the thought of finishing. "I've got a year and then I'm a doctor." The girl couldn't wait to say those words. Her father would be so proud of her. The silence between was comfortable, which was something Doutzen rarely experienced. She didn't answer his question right away. A humorless snort came from the girl before she spoke, "I don't have one. My dad was my whole family, but..." she bit her bottom lip, " But he died so I've got no one." Doutzen looked up at Nevada giving him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Well I do have my best friend and her family. They took me in after the accident before I went to college. But as far as family goes, I'm all that's left." Doutzen hadn't told a soul what she just told Nevada. The girl put on a brace face and blinked away the tears that she felt welling up before they could even form.

Nevada felt his gaze soften as he listened to the brunette. Before he could realize the male had reached out to take one of her hands and gave it a soft squeeze. "I'm sorry about your dad..." Nev paused, thinking back to only when he found out about his father being sick and dying. He felt so dead inside not because of his fathers death but because his father waited so long to reach out to him. "My mom, and grandma is all I have. Even though I feel so far away from them even if I'm in their presence. My dad... he left when I was eight." The blonde pressed his lips together, "I've been there more than once.. when I felt like I had no one. It was tricky too because I had contemplated on killing myself each time. Sometimes I still do think about it but I have a good friend as well whose family accepted me with open arms. With them, they filled the absence." He gave her a soft smile assuring her everything was alright. "You're not alone--" he stopped, realizing that this probably would be the only time he'd sure her.

Doutzen was surprised when Nevada opened up to her along with the comforting hand. The two in combination with one another made it feel as if they were kindred souls. Two people who understood one another, rather than a gesture of pity. Doutzen squeezed onto Nev's. He was warm and welcoming, and she liked that. It sadden Doutzen that Nevada had contemplated suicide, but she was happy he had someone. Like how she had Ophelia. "My mom left when I was six, although she was never really there to begin with. My dad took me to my first dance lesson to try and get through to me since I sort of shut down. It's been my everything ever since," Doutzen paused, "That's what music is like for you, isn't it?" One of the tears she'd been holding back finally rolled down her cheek.

Nevada frowned and gave her hand another gentle squeeze. The boy nodded, "It is-- My mom bought me my first guitar when I was eleven, money was tight and I spent months asking for one. Eventually I came to an understanding that I probably wouldn't get one until on my birthday there it was waiting for me. Would spend hours teaching myself how to play it. Music is my everything." He murmured softly. Nev reached out to gently brush away the tear with his thumb.

Doutzen hadn't realized the tear fell. So when Nevada reached forward to brush it away she was shocked. Before he could completely finish the action, she reached for his hand and lightly pulled it away. Then blinked away what bit of emotion lingered. "I'm so sorry. This is so not like me. I'm ruining your night. You came to have a good time and I'm here getting you to talk about our messed up families and being emotional." She released Nevada's hands, giving herself a once over and taking a deep breath to get her center. "I think you put a spell on me, Nevada," she joked knowing how New Orleans was often equated with magic.

Nevada shook his head, "Hey, no-- no. Don't apologize, please. It's not often I go around telling everyone this. Yes, it's emotional but it was nice getting it off my chest for once. " His blue eyes watched her, making sure the brunette was okay. Though, hearing her words made him give a small laugh. Nev took a deep breath to clear his mind before speaking again. "What time does your shift end? I would like to give you a ride home."

Doutzen A small smile etched it's way onto Doutzen face. She was happy that though their conversation turned to something deeper that Nevada was still happy with it. Once again the male surprised her by saying something she'd never expect him to. "My shift?" Then words came out almost as if they were a foreign concept to her. Doutzen glanced up at the clock and realized her shift was actually already over. The brunette blinked. Then blinked again snapping herself back to her senses. With a chuckle she asked, "Is that your way of trying to make sure you see me again? You don't need to give me a ride home. I'll be fine."

Nevada continued to watch her, his eyes following her to the clock. The blonde chuckled, "I guess it's not working? No, I was trying to be a gentlemen and offer you a ride home. It won't be any trouble but if you say you'll be fine."

Doutzen shook her head. "No it's working. My shift is actually over." The girl glanced back at Nevada. "How could you know it wouldn't be any trouble? I could live in the exact opposite direction as you," she pointed out.

Nevada shrugged his shoulders, "And-- isn't that where the guy makes up some excuse about living on the same side of town just to give the girl a ride home." He chuckled.

Doutzen giggled at that. "You're persistent." Doutzen gave Nevada a once over. Wondering what she should do. There were pros to having him take her, not having to walk or pay for the shuttle was one. Though she supposed the bigger question was if she could trust him. Doutzen wasn't one to give her trust away, but in the back of her mind the only answer she could find was that yes she could trust him.

Nevada smiled, "Well, how else are you going to get home-- unless you have your own car but I'm sure you would have said something by now. Which means that it's probably a no. Either, you'd have to resort to walking, which I know doesn't sound fun after dancing in those heels. Or, you could take the bus but you'd have to pay and it would take much longer. Though, if I gave you a ride home, you'd get there in no time."

Doutzen found herself laughing again at how he went on. "Fine, you're right. I don't have a car and it would be nice to have a ride." She tucked the strands of her hair behind her ears thinking it through. "Alright. One ride." Doutzen stood up from her seat. "I just need to change first. Can you meet me out back?"

Nevada grinned, "One ride." He watched the female stand, "Sure--" the blonde stood up the grin still on his face. "See you out back," Nev shoved his hand into his pockets and left the room.

Doutzen left the room, heading to the backroom. She reached for her bag and pulled out a pair of sweats and a hoodie. She kicked off her heels, snickering to herself as she realized how her 5'2" form would feel even smaller standing next to him. Throwing the shoes in her bag, putting her hair in a bun, and Slipping on the sweats and a pair of flip flops. Doutzen clocked out and stepped out the back door. Smiling at the bouncer guarding the door. "Chet, you see a guy about a foot taller than me with messy blonde hair come around here?"

Nevada gave a nod to the bouncer at the front door while he exited. Though, perhaps it was a bad idea parking several blocks down. The man basically ran to the truck, getting there less than five minutes. Catching his breath as he hopped into the truck. Letting the engine come to life while pulling away from the curb. Heading back to the strip club, instead of parking in the front he headed to the back. By the time he got there it looked like the brunette wasn't there yet. Which was a relief to him, not wanting the girl to be waiting long. Leaving the truck running, Nev exited and walked to the side of his truck so he would be in view if she walked out. The blonde leaned against the pale red truck, hands shoved into his pocket while waiting. He saw the brunette step out and instantly his smiled widened. Nevada gave a wave and pushed away from his truck to approach the girl.

Doutzen looked in the direction the bouncer pointed and smiled back at Nev. "Thanks. Have a nice night," she waved by to the bouncer before walking over towards Nevada with he bag slung over her shoulder. She met him half way. "Hi," she greeted him. "Nice truck. Suits you," she remarked on the vehicle.

Nevada looked back at the truck, "Had her since I was sixteen." The boy look back towards the girl, noticing how much shorter she was without her heels. Nev smiled down at her, "I think I like you better in this outfit." He teased while leading the way back to his truck. There he open the door for Doutzen mostly because the handle would get jammed. "So, where we we headed?" He asked after pulling himself into the drivers seat.

Doutzen walked with Nevada to the passenger side of the truck saying, "So poket sized bum more your type?" as she climbed in, thanking him for opening the door. "Take I-10 west to I-310 south and after you reach highway 90, I'll direct you from there."

Nevada let out a laugh, "sure you could fit in my pocket." He started up the truck, and made a face. Realizing that was the same route he would be taking to get back home. Though, he didn't say anything by it yet. "Alright, I think I can manage that. The radio is busted doesn't like to tune into stations right. I've got a collection of tapes down by your feet."

Doutzen looked down at the tapes then over at Nevada. "Do you have something already in there?”

Nevada "I have Pearl Jam in there at the moment." It didn't take them long to get out of New Orleans and on the stretch to where she lived. "What town do you live in?"

Doutzen was fine with that and just hit play. She turned the volume down low so it played softly in the background. She shifted watching as they went and occasionally stealing glances at Nevada. " it's called Hallow Grove."

Nevada deadpanned, stealing a glance at the brunette before retorting his eyes back to the road. "You're joking, right." He let out a laugh, "I live in Hallow Grove too."

Doutzen was confused by his question. "No, I'm not joking." When he went on to say he lived in Hallow Grove too. She was more shocked than before. "You what?"

Nevada let out another laugh, "I live in Hallow Grove." The boy glanced in her direction, "Looks like we will be seeing each other again."

Doutzen was taken aback by this news. The brunette sat back in her seat staring out the window ahead. Had she really just told him so much about herself With the expectation he'd remain a stranger just to find out he wasn't. She had to be dreaming. "Where in Hallow Grove?" she turned so she was facing him now.

Nevada peeked at the female more than once as she seemed to process the information. The two had the idea they'd be seeing each other again, not that Nevada minded. He had basically told her things about himself no one has been told before. "Bayonne, more towards the bayou."

Doutzen "Shut up." Doutzen covered her mouth with wide eyes. "I live in Province not far from that side of Bayonne." She covered her face with her hands. "And to think this whole time I was like I'll never see this guy again, so who cares what I say," she said though her words were slightly muffled. Glancing back up at Nevada but this time she started to laugh. "Well I guess we are friends now."

Nevada couldn't help but laugh. "I guess we ran into each other for a reason," he predicted and smiled towards the brunette. "Does that mean I get to know your real name?"

Doutzen noticed they were getting closer to town. It was wild that they lived in the same place. "Who says my name isn't really Honey?" she deadpanned, but only managed to hold it for a second. He really was comfortable to be around. She found she liked him, and he seemed trustworthy so far so she supposed she needed to take a leap of faith. "My name is Doutzen, Doutzen Saint James."

Nevada gave her a look, "Don't most exotic dancer go back a different name?" He shook his head and smiled keeing his eyes on the road. "Doutzen Saint James." He reached a hand across, "Names Nevada Rasitlin Saunders, nice to officially meet you." He grinned before taking his hand back to drive. "Anyone call you Dou?"

Doutzen "Oh I get your middle name too?" She raised a brow and smiled. As she reached her hand over to shake his she added, "My middle name is Aria. And it's nice to officially meet you to Nevada." Pulling her hand back as well but still facing him. Her brows furrowed at the nickname, "No. Other than Doutzen I've been called Dot, Dottie, or Junebug. Why?"

Nevada "You should feel lucky, only three people know my middle name besides you now." He chuckled. Nevada had took the turn off to Hallow Grove and were reaching just the city limits. "Well, good. Because that's what I'll call you now."

Doutzen "Who are the other three?" Curiosity getting the better of her. "Oh you are? And what if I don't like it?" she jest. Noticing they were getting closer to her side of town she started to direct him.

Nevada "Mom, Grandma and my good friend, Emory." He glanced in her direction, "Do you hate it?" Nev listened carefully while Doutzen had directed them. It wasn't long he was pulling up to the girls place.

Doutzen shook her head. "No I don't hate it. I was just messing with you." When they pulled up in front of her house Doutzen wasn't entirely sure what to do. "Well this is me," she glanced over her shoulder at the places she'd called home for the past three years. Looking back at Nevada before speaking once more, "So, I'll see you around?" She wasn't sure if she should invite him in or if he was the type to walk her to the door or if any of that was even necessary.

Nevada looked up at her home before looking back towards the girl. "See you around, Dou. If you are ever on the side of Bayonne, pay me a visit. My place isn't too hard to find. Yellow house, last road to the Bayou."

Doutzen knew the house he spoke of. She ran by it once while jogging when she was still deciding on a route she'd like to take. "Maybe. Merry Christmas, Nevada," she gave him a smirk then hoped out of the truck and walked up to her door. Taking out her keys to unlock it, and let herself inside.

Nevada "Merry Christmas," he mumbled, leaning against the stirring wheel while watching the brunette enter her house. The blonde let his forehead rest upon the stirring wheel for a few seconds, the loud sound of a heart beat thudding against his ears. "Shit," the male cursed, realizing he was in trouble. The blonde had just met Doutzen and yet he wanted to know everything about her.

#Twelve25sixteen #Nevada Saunders #past

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