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ladyreapermc · 4 years

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Fic: Catching Feelings 6/? (Keanu x OFC)

Summary: AU in which Keanu is down on his luck after he comes to Hollywood trying to be an actor. To earn some money, he joins this app for escorts and meets Steph, a rising star who hires him to try to forget her ex. Neither of them are expecting to fall in love and all the problems it brings. (Previous parts: 1 2 3 4 5)

Author’s Notes: Another week, another chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it and as always, feedback is appreciated.

Wordcount: 3375

Warnings: smutish (dirty talk; powerplay; choking; lots and lots of teasing)

Keanu blinked blearily and confused as he looked around his room, trying to figure out what had woken him up this early. His brain was still dazed, his movements sluggish as he followed the noise, hand finally landing on his cellphone which had found its way under the bed somehow.

The sight of Steph’s name flashing across the screen finally kickstarted his brain and he rushed to answer the call, getting caught in a yawn as the facetime call connected.

“Shit! I woke you up. I’m sorry.” She winced, her tone apologetic and he smiled, waving off her apologies.

“It’s fine,” Keanu replied, voice still thick with sleep as he settled back on the pillows. “I needed to get up anyway.”

When Keanu had left Steph’s house the night he went to pick up his bike, he once again thought that would be the end of this thing they had. He hated himself for walking away, even after she cleared up the entire thing with Kevin, but he really thought it would be for the best.

He was falling in love with her way too hard and that was a problem. She was his client and nothing more. Or at least that was what Keanu tried to tell himself until the night he got home after a meeting a client and found a voicemail from Steph. He had no idea how she got her number, but her ramblings on how much she missed him warmed his heart, right until the part the call disconnected suddenly, and Keanu was left wondering if Steph was alright.

Panic only grew when she didn’t reply to his calls or texts and he was already looking up ways to find out where she was staying when Steph finally called back, letting him know she was fine. There were a handful of times Keanu felt that kind of sheer relief in his life and all of them associated with people he loved with all his heart. As if he needed any more proof of his own feelings. The ones he was running from for the past two months.

However, Keanu decided he was done running and that was what made him call her again later. To make sure she was feeling better and make it clear that what he had with her, it wasn’t something he did with just anyone. Keanu might be an escort, but not all money in the world could make him care for someone as he cared for her and he needed Steph to know that.

Admitting to it was liberating and the facetime calls became a routine for them. At least once a day they would talk, share about their day; chat about stupid things, everything and nothing and all in between.

Steph would send random texts throughout the day, pictures of stuff she thought he would find funny. While Keanu would send the things about home he knew she loved and missed.

It was a very welcome change in their… relationship? Friendship? Keanu had no idea how to call it, but for the first time, he knew it was completely real. There was no money involved. No strings attached, no confusion due to sex. Though he really missed the mind-blowing sex they had, strangely enough, a month of this, talking every day and joking and trying to watch Netflix together even though there were an ocean and several timezones separating them and Steph seemed to have zero self-control and would always watch an episode or two without him was proving to be even more fulfilling. Even if it meant waking up at crack of dawn to talk to Steph when she was coming back from a whole day of shooting like she was now.

Keanu took a moment to really look at her, drinking the sight of her, no makeup, her hair pulled up and away from her face with the exception of a lock of hair that must have gotten loose and was falling over her big brown eyes. To him, she would never look more beautiful and Keanu felt the proverbial butterflies on his stomach as he watched her.

“You look tired,” Steph commented, disappearing off-screen a second before two soft thuds reached his ears. Probably her boots hitting the carpeted floor. “Long night?”

“Yeah. Got home around 2 a.m.,” Keanu said, scratching his five o’clock shadow. He had been toying with the idea of growing a beard, but Mike, their producer, shot the idea down. It wasn’t the look they were going for.

Steph only hummed noncommittally, her brow furrowing ever so slightly as she looked away and Keanu smirked, his heart picking up speed because he knew that look very well. He spotted that look several times through the last few weeks whenever any magazine or gossip site splashed pictures of Steph and her handsome co-star along with rumors of them dating.

“Dogstar had a gig,” he explained, making her look up startled. “Our first paying one. I mean, it barely covered gas, but still…”

“That’s amazing, Ke!” Her grin was blinding, and his heart did a little flip in his chest. He was head over heels of this woman and there was no point in denying anymore. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks,” he replied, ducking his head a little as he felt his cheeks warm. “Maybe you can come to one of them when you get back.”

“I’d love to,” Steph grinned, picking up the phone and moving through the room. The image shook for a bit before it stabilized again and Keanu could no longer see her, only the white tiles of the bathroom. “We still have another month to go. Next week we’re flying back to Paris for some additional scenes. I’ve always wanted to spend my birthday there, but I didn’t think I’d be alone.”

“Where are you?” Keanu asked, scanning the frame, hearing her giggle before her face showed up again, but sideways.

“I’m changing,” she replied.

“So? Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Keanu pointed out with a smirk and Steph rolled her eyes but came fully into view.

She had taken her sweater off and stood there in jeans and her bra and Keanu could already feel his body responding to the sight of all her gorgeous skin. Her hands fell to her buttons, undoing them so damn slowly he wished he could push them away and do it himself.

Steph turned her back on him before pushing the jeans down, actually giving her ass a little wiggle to shimmy out of them and Keanu groaned, his boxers tight over his growing erection.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he complained, rubbing himself and she had the gall to look over her shoulder with her best ‘who? Me?’ look, complete with that big doe eyes and pout and Keanu chuckled. “You were saying something about your birthday.”

“Yeah,” she said, her expression softening a little as she sat on the edge of the tub and turned the faucet on. “It’s the big three-oh and I’ll be here all by myself.” Steph shrugged. “I mean, sure Vincent is taking me to dinner and I appreciate it, but none of my friends will be here. The real ones at least…”

Keanu bit his cheek to keep himself from reacting to the mention of Vincent. It wasn’t that he was jealous, he just… Who was he kidding? It was exactly because he was jealous, but it wasn’t enough to divert his attention from what really mattered. How sad she looked at the prospect of spending her birthday without her true friends.

“When is it again?” he asked, an idea popping in his head. A terrible, unbelievably crazy idea.

---

Keanu paced the room with quick steps, desperately needing to work out some of the nervous energy thrumming through his body and movement had always been the way he did it. Be it by waving his hands around when he was speaking or bouncing his knee or walking around.

Moving his body always had a soothing effect in his mind for some reason and tonight he needed all his strategies to calm himself because if this crazy plan of his backfired, Keanu really didn’t know what he would do.

He had always been an impulsive guy, making decisions without thinking them through. It was what took him to Los Angeles; it was what almost killed him in that mountainside years ago. And now it was what could completely ruin the best relationship Keanu had in a long time.

What if Steph didn’t like the surprise? What if she thought he was crazy for flying all the way to Paris on her birthday without telling her? Yes, she said she wished her real friends could be here to celebrate with her, but it was Keanu who assumed he was included in that category. What if he was wrong? What if he was in love with her, but she wasn’t? What if…

The sound of the phone made him jump and Keanu nearly stumbled on his own feet trying to get it, answering with a quick hello.

“I delivered the envelope, Mr. Reeves,” the concierge spoke, his accent thick and making his words almost indecipherable. “She’s on her way up.”

“Thank you.”

His hands shook as he hung up and hurried through the process of lighting up the candles and dimming the lights, before coming to sit on the edge of the bed, fighting off the urge of bouncing his feet as the minutes ticked by with no sign of her. He adjusted his collar, feeling a little breathless.

What if she went to her own room instead? What if she thought it was some kind of mean joke or a trap from the press? What if she didn’t come at all?

Keanu’s heart lunged in his chest at the low chime of the electronic lock and he got to his feet, coming face to face with a stunned Steph. She stood there for a moment, eyes wide, mouth hanging open and he forced a small, awkward smile.

“Happy birthday?” he said with hesitation, wondering if she hated the surprise until her face shifted into a smile and she all but threw herself on his arms.

Keanu breathed out a sigh of relief, cradling her close to his body, nose buried into her head, breathing in the familiar scent of strawberries. He missed her more than he first realized.

“I thought maybe…” she started, pulling back a little and looking at Keanu with eyes full of wonder and affection. “When you asked me about my birthday, but you didn’t say anything else, I thought it was just wishful thinking, but you’re here.”

“Yeah,” Keanu smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “Is that ok?”

“It’s the best birthday present I could hope for,” Steph said, her lips pulling into a grin. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

Keanu cupped her cheek, tracing her face with his thumb, almost as if trying to recommit her features to memory. It wasn’t the same, seeing her through facetime. It didn’t do her justice.

Her hands crossed behind his neck, fingers playing with his hair, massaging his scalp and Keanu tried not to tense as they came way too close to his secret, but since she didn’t seem to notice, he just sighed happily, leaning into the touch for a second, before bending his head and meeting her lips for a kiss, something he was longing for weeks.

Their lips molded perfectly together, finding their rhythm with barely any effort; their tongues moving against one another, tasting and exploring, relearning each other as their hands found their way under their clothes, searching warm skin and familiar curves.

Keanu struggled to get her out of her coat and scarf while her hand moved over his crotch, rubbing him through his jeans and groaned against her lips, getting lost in the feel of it before pulling back and catching her hand.

“I’ve got you a cake,” he announced, and Steph chuckled and nodded, letting Keanu move away from her and lead the way to the table.

Her small gasp at the sight of the black forest mini cake made Keanu grin proudly as Steph glanced from the sugary treat and back at him.

“How did you know it was my favorite?” she asked, and he just shrugged, trying for nonchalant, but feeling so stupidly happy for having put that happy smile on her face. He had googled it like a stalker, but her expression was definitely worth it.

He pulled a chair out for her with one hand, while the other dug through his pocket for the candle and lighter. To Keanu’s surprise, Steph pushed him on the seat and got on his lap, making sure to squirm and wiggle over his cock, dragging out a grunt from him.

“Fucking tease,” he complained, making her chuckle.

“Careful there, Ke. If you keep using that kinda language, I’ll have to gag you,” Steph warned, giving him a sideways smirk. “Or maybe just put that mouth to better use.”

“Cake first” Keanu reminded, arms coming around her to set the candle between the two decorative cherries before lighting it up. “Then you can tie me and gag me and whatever else you want.”

“Is that a promise?” Steph asked her voice low, sounding almost dangerous as she turned sideways on his lap so she could look at him and Keanu gulped, a shiver running down his spine at the look in her eyes.

“Yes,” he replied, meeting her gaze.

Had any woman ever made him feel like this before? Get him this hot and horny with just one look and a couple of suggestive words? Keanu was pretty sure the answer to that was a no. Steph had just a way of turning him on or making him learn things about himself that he never thought it would be possible. It was liberating and that was why he got her that present in the first place. If it wasn’t for Steph, Keanu would never know how much he wanted to try that with her.

At last, Steph turned her attention to the cake in front of her, arching her eyebrow at him Keanu and with a small blush, he sang her happy birthday, his voice low and unsteady. He had no idea why he felt shy about that, but he did.

“You’ve got a nice voice, babe,” she said kissing his cheek.

“I really don’t.” Keanu ducked his head and chuckle. “Anyway, make a wish.”

There was a moment of silence and Steph leaned over, blowing the candle, before turning on Keanu’s lap until she was straddling him and catching his lips in a hungry kiss, rolling her hips tantalizingly and he moaned against her mouth, his cock throbbing and pulsing in his jeans.

“Aren’t you…?”

“Later,” she cut him off, lips traveling over his jaw until she caught his earlobe between them, sucking lightly and pleasure shot through Keanu, his hands tightening over her thighs almost at their own accord. “Right now, I just you to fuck me.”

Keanu tensed for a second, hesitant and unsure of what he was about to propose. Steph felt it and pulled back, giving him a worried look.

“Something’s wrong?”

“No…” he breathed out, brushing away the hair from her face and pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “I just… got you something.”

“You didn’t have to, Ke,” she hurried to say, and he thought he saw her flush. “Just the fact that you flew all the way here…”

“I wanted to…” he assured, patting her leg gently so she would stand up and he could move to his suitcase and get it.

Keanu hesitated, back turned to her, box in his hands. He took another breath, before facing Steph again and handing it to her. It was a simple black rectangular box, wrapped with a blue bow. Steph pulled it loose and opened the lid, frowning at its contents.

“A chain?” she asked with a confused frown, looking up at him.

“A-uh leash, actually,” Keanu explained, swallowing hard as he unbuttoned the first couple buttons of his shirt, exposing the leather collar around his neck and Steph gasped, staring at him with wide eyes. “Is this ok?”

“Ke… I…” she stuttered, meeting his gaze again. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his smile a little hesitant, but very hopeful. “I thought a lot about it and… I never came as hard jerking off as when I was picturing this. I want it.”

She watched him for a moment as if trying to spot a lie in his statement or stance and he fought the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. Keanu knew Steph just wanted to make sure he wasn’t just trying to please her, which he was, to an extent, but this was about him as much as it was about her.

Finally, she moved closer to him, eyes never leaving his as she undid the rest of the buttons and pushed the shirt off his shoulders before caressing his chest, slowly making her way to the black band circling his neck.

Her small fingers ran over the edge gently, before she slipped one finger under the collar, making it tighter and Keanu swallowed hard, shuddering at the feel of it restraining his breathing just a little, making him gasp.

“Oh, babe…” Steph whispered, voice low and sultry as she petted his cheek. “You really like this, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am.” It still amazed Keanu how quickly he slipped into this whenever she used that tone with him. It was almost a pavlovian reaction by now.

“Then who am I to deny you?” she smirked at him, crooking her finger and tugging lightly on the collar and Keanu followed the motion, bending his head closer to her. Being rewarded with a dirty, searing kiss. “Especially when you’ve been such a good boy.”

She let go of him and took a step back, once again just watching him, lip between her teeth, her eyes dark and full of want.

“You look so beautiful like this, Ke,” Steph said, and he felt his cheeks heating up in embarrassment, so he ducked his head, dodging her eyes and shifting in place, hands clasped together in front of his body. “And you’re blushing? That’s so sweet.”

“Please…” his voice was low, pleading.

Not only he didn’t like being complimented like that, but his body felt like was about to combust and he was so hard it was getting painful. He couldn’t wait anymore. Keanu just wanted her. Almost desperately.

She smiled at him and nodded, moving closer once again and turning her back to him, exposing the zipper of her dress.

“Go ahead.”

He pulled it down slowly, the fabric parting to reveal her back and the purple lace of her bra. Keanu pulled the zipper all the way it would go, before pushing the straps of the dress off her shoulders, letting his lips graze over her nape and smiling lightly when goosebumps rose on her skin.

“I don’t remember allowing you to touch,” Steph chided softly, turning around to look at him and Keanu groaned at the sight before him. She was so damn beautiful.

“Sorry ma’am,” he mumbled, head down.

“No, you’re not.” She smirked.

She grabbed the chain from the box, before clasping it on the metal link on the collar and tugging on it tentatively. Keanu gasped and moaned at the feel of it, the way it tightened and led his movements. His cock twisted inside his pants, making his stumble forward even more uncomfortable.

With her free hand, Steph undid his jeans, shoving it down his hips and clicking her tongue at his lack of underwear. Keanu couldn’t care for anything except the relief of finally having his erection free.

“Someone’s eager,” she teased, pulling on the leash again with one hand, while the other stroked his cock and Keanu’s brain short-circuited at the combination of sensations.

Steph swallowed his moans in another kiss before she nipped on his bottom lip and pulled back to look at his dazed, unfocused eyes.

“This is gonna be fun.”

xx(tbc) xxx

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littlemisssquiggles · 5 years

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Hello! So, I read your last musing, about Oscar's most powerfuls spell, and it made me realise one thing: in the old Remnant, everyone could cast magic from their hands, but Ozma used a cane for it. Do you think that he may have been handicapped? Maybe he wasn't as connected to the world magic as much as others and he needed to use a medium. We know that he used a cane because he didn't believe in aggression, but what if it was also a sort of magic prosthesis?

Hey Yellow. Ironically that’s something I noticed too to after I finished posting my last Pinehead headcanon. Thus far, Ozma and essentially all of his successors are the only ones who used an object as a conduit to channel their magic

As to why, I’m not sure. I do like your concept of Ozma originally being magically handicapped than other magi from First Remnant. But since you also mentioned the tidbit about Ozma (and technically all the Wizards) preferring to use a sceptre/cane as their weapon of choice as it’s less lethal, it’s making me consider a different new headcanon about Ozma. Here me out:

What if…in his youth, Ozma was a completely different person.

When we were first introduced to his character, he was described as man who fought for righteousness and the people. But what if …this wasn’t always Ozma’s personality? What if …Ozma used to be the complete opposite of who we met him as during his younger teenaged years? Probably when he was roughly around the same age as Oscar is presently.

Since First Remnant was described to be home to kings and queens, what if… Ozma was possibly a young prince in his time. This could be a small little nod to his Oz counterpart of the same name who was a princess. But despite being of noble blood, imagine if…Ozma was rather spoilt and selfish in his youth, caring very little for others which was inclusive of the very people who lived within his family’s kingdom.

And because of this lack of empathy towards his fellow man, Ozma would often abuse his powers. Let’s say…rather than being magically handicapped, Ozma was quite talented in the mystical arts but lacked proper disciple as well as the patience to learn how to properly control it.

Since ‘arrogant’ was a word once used by Cinder Fall (as propagated by Salem) when describing Ozpin; as Ozpin is the current version of Ozma’s soul, perhaps in his past Ozma was very supercilious to a detrimental fault.

Picture…a fourteen-year-old Ozma, crowned prince of a kingdom devastated by poverty and ruled by greed, being the type of cocky adolescent whose vanity was only outmatched by his lack of self-control in using his own abilities.Like imagine Young Ozma being the type to walk around proclaiming that he was the greatest magi in all the land because of his abilities, having come from along line of powerful witches and wizards on both sides of his family.

Picture…Ozma being the type to cockily challenge others to a duel of might and magic since he’s arrogant enough in his abilities to know that he’s strong enough to wipe the floor with any opponent (or so he believes) whether his opponent was willing to participate or not. As a matter of fact, picture a scene where Ozma is training with his royal tutor using servants as his sparring partners. However Ozma keeps disobeying his master’s orders and going overboard with his magic to easily win his matches since the boy is fully aware that his lesser magically incompetent servants can’t put up much of a fight against.

Pretty soon the easy wins start to bore Ozma and he demands a proper challenge; to which one servant responds that there are no more servants for Ozma to fight since he’s beaten most of them while the rest were to scared to face him. Ozma then challenges his tutor to a duel claiming that since he was such a so-called powerful warlock then he’d be provide the challenge Ozma craved. At the first the tutor refused Ozma’s challenge after acknowledging the destruction and pain he had caused he past targets. However when Ozma begins mocking his tutor and belittling his abilities, he finally conceded for a chance to teach Ozma a much needed lesson.

Long story short, the tutor, of course, wipes the floor with Ozma much to the astonishment of the feeble spectators who all rushed to help their beaten prince. However Ozma wasn’t finished. Despite the tutor voicing that the match was won in his favour, the humiliating defeat angers Ozma to the point that he loses control of his magic, unintentionally summoning a much darker power which he unfortunately unleashes upon his tutor.

Of course the tutor masterfully dodges Ozma’s attack only for it to collide with the ceiling of the training room, causing debris to cave down on top a pair of servants caught in the crossfire.

This of course badly wounds both of them and Ozma is genuinely stunned at what he had done. You ever noticed how Salem is mostly the only magic we’ve seen to use dark magic whereas Ozma (and the Wizards) don’t? I’d like to think that dark magic by RWBY terms stems from the power of destruction derived from the God of Darkness.

I’d also like to think that in his youth, Ozma learned just how devastating such type of magic could prove in the wrong hands, in more ways than one.

Anyways, as the injured servants are whisked away and as Ozma was still recovering from the shock of using the forbidden dark magic, his astonishment is short-lived as he was suddenly pulled aside to be scolded by his tutor, infuriated for his behaviour and his sudden misuse of the dark arts.

This in turn only serves to further annoy Ozma as he claps back at the older warlock, threatening to have his father—the king—behead the man for so much as daring to speak back to him in such a manner. As a bold reminder, Ozma even tells the tutor wizard that he was a servant of his kingdom and as a servant of his kingdom, he bows down to Ozma. And as you might expect, this threat causes the tutor wizard to resign as both Ozma’s mentor and a servant of his kingdom; joining the rest that came before him.

I’d like to think of Ozma being such a poor student that he racks up mentors faster than the servants can find one willing enough to take the job. Beside I like the satire of Ozma formerly being a pretty terrible student in his first life as compared the humble teacher he comes to be in later lives.

Both as Professor Ozpin and his predecessor—the King of Vale since he founded the huntsmen academies and I’m still holding onto my hunch that the Warrior King—King Phadrig as I dubbed him—trained the very people who fought under him during the First Great War; including Great-Grandpappi Arc ( Jaune’s ancestor) according to my theories.

I know these theories more or less paint a different and less likeable version of the Ozma we know, but again hear me out again. To me, I find characters who start off being one way and slowly evolving into another way kind of fascinating to follow.

Like for example, a story about a timorous street cop, who desired to be promoted to detective but was a pushover for most of his career, slowly transforming to become the most intimidating crime bosses in the city; using his previous experience and knowledge from working in the force to outsmart his previous peers. It was originally meant to be an undercover gig that the cop wanted to use as means to rise in the ranks and finally achieve respect from his fellow cops who would look down on him. But what it leads into is a narrative that makes the audience question whose side this cop character really is many times throughout his arc as he does shady things that makes you wonder where his loyalty lies. Is he still the good cop working to stop the criminals or has hereally switched sides finding the life of a vicious crime lord his true calling since it brought him the satisfaction and respect he always craved? Doesn’t thatsound like a compelling character to follow?

Or, in the case of my small theory here, picture a hero’s journey about anarrogant little prince who cared very little for others outside the family thatspoiled him rotten ultimately growing up to become one of the most virtuousheroes in all the land whose chivalry and devotion to protecting mankind endsup transcending time and history.

The beginning and end stories are such a stark contrast that you’re left wondering how on earth did said character come to be so different in the end, thus lending to the ongoing intrigue of watching the chapters that contributed to this change. You’re left interested in following along to see how the storyreaches this ending in a sense, if you get what I mean.

That and I also like the juxtaposition of Ozma formerly being one of the worse students imaginable in the younger years of his first life but ultimately growing to become a humble man who now passes down his years of knowledge to guide others.

Anyways, let’s continue with the theory idea:

So Ozma is boy who desires to be great like his family but lacks the patience to be one as well as earn the respect of a mentor willing to teach him to be the person he desires to be. At least, not until Ozma meets someone— an old, wise nomadic wizard hailing from a faraway land unknown who ultimately became theperson who changed Ozma’s life forever. For the sake of this headcanon of mine, I’m going to dub this old wizard as Merlin; and going off the name alone you can probably tell or ready where I’m going with this.

Now let’s say, in a land of powerful magi blessed by the Gods there was one fabled to be the most powerful wizard in all of First Remnant—believed to have descended from the First Man created by the Brother Gods.

But in spite of being this legendary mage, no one knew anything of this true identity. Each legend spoke differently but they all shared one common detail—a mystical staff that was said to be the weapon of the legendary mage believed to have been bestowed him by the Gods themselves. Or something like that.

There was not a single child born into First Remnant who didn’t grow up hearing the legendary stories of the nameless great and powerful wizard. Among them was Ozma but he always believed the tales were all hogwash. Glamourous fairy tales of one powerful wizard who travelled the world using his magic to aid others in need yet no one has ever seen him before? How ridiculous, were the thoughts of a teenage Ozma.

And the fact about him fighting with a staff when magic is available by the mere snap of one’s finger just made the stories even less enticing to the boy’s ear ears.

Now in Ozma’s kingdom, like I said, there was this bum—as Ozma referred to him. He wasn’t actually a bum. He was in fact a humble nomad proclaiming to hail from a land far away—a land of light as he described and his travels eventually brought him to Ozma’s kingdom.

The only reason Ozma addressed him as a bum was because the strange newcomer’s attire matched the lower class that lined the streets of his kingdom in droves making the stranger blend right in.

Let’s say…poverty was quite rampart in Ozma’s kingdom since the kingdom royals—his family— did very little to help its citizens and they raised their son to do the same. But this bum—the nomad— peeked Ozma’s interest.

From his home, Ozma would always observe the man. Each day the bum would perform the same routine—come into the kingdom from his temporary abode outside in the forest, sit in the same spot, pretend to accidentally drop a couple of lien into the hands of the starving poor folk who needed it (or perform some other type of good deed) and when the day was done, he would return quietly to the forest from whence he crawled out of only to return again the next day.He was a strange one, as Ozma would often say to himself but in a strange way, Ozma couldn’t help but be oddly fascinated by said man.

Who was he anyways?

The most interesting thing about the man is that he carried a strange sceptre. Ozma always found the sceptre to be the most outlandish thing about the bum since it contradicted with everything else about him.

To fast-forward this idea a bit, let’s say—one day, another kingdom attacked Ozma’s under the pursuit of conquering his throne.

Unfortunately they succeeded. In the span of a single night, Ozma lost everything he once knew. His family. His home. His crown and dignity as the royal heir. He almost even lost his life when the assailants came after him. In spite of fleeing into the forest, Ozma eventually found himself cornered on a lonely bridge suspended over a deep canyon.

Outnumbered, injured and outmatched, Ozma was like a rat trapped in a maze and it’s not like his magic was enough to help him this time. His lack of trainingin control of his powers came back to haunt him as he was easily overpowered by the more experienced assailants.

One of the attackers even resorted to using dark magic to restrain Ozma, twisting his body with the malicious intent of killing him slowly. But in his moments of pain, to the young boy’s astonishment he is rescued by an unlikely saviour.

It was the bum who arrived to protect Ozma from the assailants. And that’s not even the most surprising part, the bum was also a magi. But not just any magi. He was the great and powerful wizard of legend: Merlin the Myth.

I know that Merlin is the legendary sorcerer derived from Arthurian Legend. So imagine if there was a RWBY character inspired by him who played a pinnacle role in Ozma’s Origin story and was the man who made him into the champion of justice we know he came to be?

I know it’d probably be more in character to have Ozma start off as the type of eager hero archetype willing to fight for the people, as we saw with our main RWBY heroine: Ruby Rose.

However, as I;ll say again I like the contrast of Ozma coming from privilegedbeginnings governed by greed and selfishness only to ultimately change to become a better man as a result of all the life changing experiences he endured during his youth while attaining the companionship and guidance of an old soul who left a lasting impression on him.

I like the idea of Ozma formerly being a spoiled prince who initially started to go down a path of revenge when his family is murdered by another kingdom that conquered his own. I like the idea of Ozma being taken under the wing by a legendary yet kind wizard who genuinely saw good and greatness in him and wanted to help him in some way.

Using this idea, imagine young Ozma practically begging Merlin to be his mentor upon learning that the legends about him were real. Picture Ozma boldly demanding that Merlin teach him how to become a powerful magi like him for the sake of returning to his conquered kingdom and slaughtering the people who took it from him out of revenge for what they did to him and his family.

Unfortunately Merlin wasn’t having any of that and refused to teach Ozma at all if his intentions were to use his teachings for harming others. It is only when Ozma agreed to Merlin’s way that the old sage took him in with a smile.

(Side Note: If I also had to depict Merlin the Myth, I’d picture him something like this image above while sometimes adopting an animal form in the shape of a brown owl or white owl. A lot of the images and art I find on Merlin have him featured with an owl of some kind.

Since we know magic in RWBY can be used to turn people into animals, perhaps Merlin used his to shape-shift into an owl and that’s how he traveled from place to place and explains why no one could ever saw his face. He’d always transform and fly off before they could. Just an idea).

Resuming: Since Ozma was desperate for Merlin to teach him, he agrees to temporarily abandon his vendetta for the sake of learning from Merlin. However, truth be told Ozma had merely lied to Merlin so that he would provide him what he needed.

The boy still hungered for vengeance and when Merlin learnt this, he told Ozma that if revenge was his path then there was nothing he could teach him that will be of benefit to him. Enraged by the old wizard’s words, Ozma storms off and attempts his vendetta anyways.

Using what little he had learnt from Merlin, he returned to his kingdom and tried to stage a one-man attack. Ozma had planned to singlehandedly take back his throne by killing the new king and his family just like what he had done to him and his.

However, what made Ozma stop in his tracks is when he soon realized that the new conquerors had young children—four innocent little princesses who were absolutely oblivious to what their father—the king—had done.

In order for Ozma to enact his revenge, it would mean taking the lives of these four girls. In spite of his anger clouding his judgement. In spite of every fibre in his body screaming at him to defend his family’s honour, Ozma…couldn’t do it.

So basically Ozma fails in his vendetta. He believes he is done for when he is caught by the new king. But to Ozma’s surprise, Merlin appears and comes to his aid a second time.

In a nutshell, Merlin protects Ozma and when questioned by the young boy about why he came back for him, Merlin simply replied that despite his impulsive, bratty behaviour—the old soul could still tell that there was a kind heart behind it. In spite of only knowing Ozma for a short time, Merlin was willing to place his fate in the more honest soul he saw in him.

In Merlin’s eyes, he believed that Ozma was destined for greatness. All he needed was proper guidance. Sure he was more than a little rough around the edges but in time, Ozma could be great if he was willing to put in the work to becoming a better person. Perhaps even the type that others could even call a hero.

Ozma scoffs at the very thought of it .Him? A hero? Impossible. He wasn’t even a prince anymore. He had no crown. No kingdom. His own people didn’t even miss him, not like he had ever given them reason to. Ozma was a nobody now and from here, where was he supposed to go? Who was he supposed to be now moving forward?

That’s when Merlin would prompt him with the statement, “Well that’s what you get to figure out. This is your chance to decide your path, young Oz. Your future. You think you lost everything but in actuality, you’ve been given a tremendous opportunity.”

“For what?” Ozma would ask.

“To start over,” Merlin replied optimistically, “begin a new leaf. Before you believed you had to abide by a destiny that was handed to you from birth. Now, you get to decide it for yourself. To forge your own path and decide the type of man you want to be in time.”

“But how am I supposed to do that?” Ozma would then inquire, “I am a prince without a crown or kingdom and a child without a family. I’m just…a boy. How am I supposed to do anything now?

“…Well I never said you have to figure it out right now,” Merlin would reply casually, “and I never said you would be going forward alone either.”

Basically in a nutshell, Merlin agrees to give Ozma a second chance. He agrees to stay by his side and continue training him as his mentor; so long as Ozma gives up his vendetta entirely and devote himself to

And this time, Ozma agrees after realizing finally, that regaining his kingdom was a lost cause.What would even be more interesting is if the reason why Ozma came to this conclusion is because he came to the startling realization that he and his family were in fact the bad guys in all of this. Ozma’s family were tyrants who treated their people like garbage. Ozma used to notice it but at the time, he never cared much for it since at the time he was raised to turn a blind eye to these things. It would be an interesting twist if the new conquerors were good people. Another kingdom who learnt of Ozma’s family tyranny and decide to conquer it in order to help the people who were suffering. Now the people were happy with its new rulers.

Consider it a stained victory—one where neither side is black nor white. They’re each right and wrong in their actions and their reactions to the given circumstance. A starving kingdom was finally freed and living in prosperity under the reign of better, compassionate rulers. However at the same time, an innocent child lost his family in cold blood shed and has his life nearly taken by these same people.

I dunno if that makes a lick of sense at all. I just like the idea of it. I kind of like the idea of Ozma abandoning his title as prince upon learning the truth about his kingdom and what his family used to really do. After that, he was taken in by Merlin who practically raised him like a surrogate father. Together, the two travelled Remnant Merlin mentoring young Ozma on the ways and disciples of how to be a proper powerful magi through righteous rather than sheer talent alone or something like that.

It is through Merlin’s teachings where Ozma learnt the reason as to why he chooses to fight with a sceptre. RWBY has described the Long Memory as being very special to Ozma and essentially all the Wizards that came after him. Through the Lost Fable, we got a sense this is the case since as fans saw from the episode, the sceptre has been with Ozma since his first lifetime.

What was even more interesting is that even after he died the first time, even Salem still held onto the staff. I’d like to think that during their time together, Ozma must’ve told Salem the history behind his signature staff and why he held onto it for so long which in turn contributed to Salem cherishing it after Ozma’s death since it was the last thing she had of him.

I also found it pretty interesting how Salem even held onto the staff after humanity had been restored, after she had become corrupted by the Grimm Pools of Darkness. Not only has the Long Memory sustained time with Ozma (and essentially his descendants) but also with Salem pre-Ozma reincarnation. Wouldn’t been interesting if this somehow lent to the magic within the sceptre.

Like imagine if…the Long Memory was a mystical archive that secretly stored memories from Ozma and all of his lifetimes which is inclusive even of the time he spent with Salem—from the time he met her, to their travels, to the day he died to even before when Salem had the sceptre in her possession and Ozma was able to learn from the cane of Salem’s loneliness, depression and anger after losing him. Or…something like that. Mostly spit balling here.

Once upon a time, I shared a theory about the Long Memory being Ozma’s cherished weapon because it was a gift to him by someone very important from his past. At first, I pegged it had been given to him by the original Four Maidens during his lifetime as the Hermit.

Mind you, this was pre-V6. Eventually I settled on the theory that the weaponwas given to Ozma by an old relative/ mentor who helped him become the man he was.

I figured the Long Memory was either made for Ozma by his old mentor or passed down to him after he set out to start his own journey. To add an extra layer of sentimentality to the Long Memory, I thought it would be nice if the weapon originally belonged to Ozma’s past mentor who then gave it to him upon completing his training as a sign that he was ready. For me, I kind of like the concept of Ozma inheriting his master’s weapon as a symbol of his growth into an outstanding magi, not to mention the everlasting bond he shared with his mentor.

A passing of the torch, so to speak.

Plus it’ll add more significance to the weapon being called the Long Memory having been passed down from Ozma’s former mentor him to him and eventually he passed it on to his next incarnates. This is where I going with the idea of a Merlin-character in RWBY for Ozma’s Origins.

Resuming my theory concept, if a Merlin-inspired character did exist in Ozma’s past, then I like the thought of this character training Ozma fromsince he was a very young teenager; fulfilling the role of the gentle sagewhose wisdom and guidance aided Ozma throughout his life well into his adultyears.

And even after Ozma was forced to depressingly part ways with said mentor (like perhaps he passed away by the time Ozma was older), the lessons and fond memories he shared with his man stayed with and still continue to guide him in some sense after all this centuries.

I like the idea of Ozma transforming from the snobbish boy he used to be to becoming a righteous soul by the time he was a man all through the teachings of the old soul who never lost fate in him and stood with him through thick and thin.

I really like the idea of a Merlin-esque wise old mentor character raising and loving Ozma like a son. And by the time Ozma was finally ready tostart his own journey, Merlin was ready to live this world on the peace of mindthat he had lived long enough to see Ozma grow up into a great young man.

Then following his mentor’s death, Ozma inherited his iconic weapon choosing to fight with it as a means of carrying on his mentor’s legacy in a way. This could add another layer as to why the Long Memory is special to Ozma. Not only was it his weapon but it was also the weapon shared by the kind-hearted old soul who shaped him into the champion he became. I like the idea of the Long Memory not only being symbolic of the memories Ozma shared with his fellow Wizards during their lifetimes. It’s not even symbolic of the years he spent with Salem.

No I’d to think that in addition to these memories, the Long Memory additionally chronicles the memories Ozma shared with the man who trained him. It is a memoir of the times they shared together, journeying, training, living, laughing. More than that, the Long Memory is also a remnant of that mentor since he has wielded it since it he was around Ozma’s age. It was the weapon that Merlin’s mentor trained him with and it is also the same weapon that Merlin used to pass his lessons onto Ozma.

The Long Memory is special to Ozma since it’s something he shares not just with his successors but also the man who was essentially like a second father to him. His hero and it’s his way of remembering him always no matter how many lives he’s lived.

Or…y’know, something to that liking XD This doesn’t necessarily need to happen for Ozma’s story. I mean, Ozma doesn’t really need to have his own mentor. However, since part of his reincarnation cycle does involve his past self imparting guidance onto his present self, it’d be interesting if that ties back to Ozma’s history. I dunno. It’s just an idea XD

And…yeah, I believe that’s all folks. That’s my answer. Sorry if this response turned out longer and took longer than usual to edit and submit. Nevertheless, I hope it was at least enough to actually answer your question, Yellow. I know I deviated from what you originally asked me but let me know what you think if you can. Until then, as always, take care.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

#yellow-eyed-green-crocodile #squiggles answers: rwby #rwby ozma #oscar pine #professor ozpin #rwby theories

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niall-is-my-dream · 5 years

Text

You & Me - Part Six

2465 words

Niall's POV

O2 Shepherd's Bush Empire, London 31st August 2017

After a few rounds of interviews it was time to start sound check. Picture This were supporting you tonight and they were currently finishing up. You spotted Callie out the corner of your eye by your guitars, she was talking to one of the crew, Adam. She looked her usual stunning self, hair swept up in a messy bun, black jeans and a black vest top. You had to hold yourself back from marching over there and kissing her.

You couldn't believe that you had almost messed it up with her. You had sent an email to management asking them to contact Saskia's people so they could tell her to stay away from you. Detailing how you had ended whatever it was that you had with her and that she had been showing up everywhere you were. Management has emailed back saying they'd let you know the outcome.

You had wasted far too long dating girls like Saskia and it wasn't going to happen anymore. You got absolutely nothing out of the encounters apart from getting laid. Saskia in particular has relished the free publicity she got from it. Dropping hints on her social media about you and acting all coy when asked about you in interviews.

With Callie things were different. Since she'd been working with you these last ten months, you had got to know her well. And for the last four months you had well and truly been smitten with her.

She turned her head and you locked eyes, before making your way over to her. You greeted her and Adam and then asked her if she was ready to go with sound check. You always did a pre soundtrack to the one that the fans witnessed. Purely because this was an equipment check up more than anything.

Adam excused himself to go and see to Jake, saying he'd catch you in the break room later. With him out of sight, you moved closer to her. Taking a quick look around you reached your hand out to hers, your fingers linking in with hers.

"How did your interviews go?"

"Good, do you think we could get some time alone together before the show?" You replied, your thumb rubbing circles on the palm of her hand.

"Maybe five minutes after dinner."

You frowned at her.

"Ok maybe ten!" She laughed.

"Or fifteen." You whispered.

"We'll see. Come on let's get this sound check done."

*********

Everyone was sitting in the food area again like they always did after sound check and meet and greet. Gerry was currently telling everyone a funny story about a previous tour he had done, but your mind was distracted. You could see Callie out the corner of your eye sitting with Tara, Sienree and Adam and Kyle who were part of the crew. You really wanted to get her alone before the show.

"Think you can escape for a bit?" You text her.

You could see Callie reach into her pocket and retrieve her phone, clearly having heard it vibrate. She smiled when she saw your message, it made your heart beat faster.

"Definitely. When and where?"

"My dressing room, I'll go now and you follow in a few minutes."

"Can't wait. X"

After excusing yourself from the table, you made your way down the hall and to your dressing room. You knew you had got maybe half an hour until you needed to start getting ready. Everyone knew to leave you alone for this half an hour, it was when you liked to just chill out on your own.

You'd been pacing up and down the room when Callie came in the door, a cute smile on her face. Making your way towards her, you reached behind her and locked the door.

"Don't want to be disturbed." You whispered, as you leaned in and kissed her.

She reached her hands up to run her fingers through your hair, your hands instantly landed on her bum, pulling her closer to you. You ran your tongue across her bottom lip and she opened her mouth, the kiss deepening. You couldn't help yourself when it came to her, you'd been thinking about kissing her all day. You broke away both of you breathless, resting your forehead against hers.

"The things you do to me Cal." You said breathlessly.

"Yeah, what kind of things things?" She whispered.

You spun her around and walked her backwards towards the desk, lifting her up and settling her on it. Moving between her legs you pulled her close to you, an evident erection pressing against her.

She bit down on her lower lip, a smirk spread across her face. Pulling you down you kissed again, this time even more desperate than the last time. You wanted her to know how much she meant to you and you couldn't help but pull away and blurt out.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you Cal. Please forgive me?"

"It hurt me, but I know you didn't have any control over it. So let's forget it."

"I've asked management to contact hers and ask her to leave me alone."

"Did you?"

"Yeah, plus they're making sure I clear everyone who comes backstage. I mean I have no idea what she said to get in the rehearsal studio a few weeks ago."

"Lets not worry about it. We have less than half an hour alone so let's enjoy it."

"What did you have in mind?" You replied, leaning down and kissing that sweet spot behind her ear.

"Definitely this." She moaned.

Her skin smelled and tasted sweet and you kissed and nipped along her neck and jaw, relishing in the soft moans that tumbled out of her mouth. When her hand moved down and stroked you over your jeans, you paused and gasped at her soft touch.

She undid your button and gently pulled down your zipper as you continued along her jaw until your lips found hers. Reaching behind you, she eased your jeans over your bum and then dipped her hands inside your boxers. Her hands were warm around your now fully hard length, she briefly let go with one hand as she eased your boxers down. You pulled at the straps of her vest top bringing them down her shoulders along with her bra. She gasped as you grazed your fingers across her nipple.

Gently easing back your foreskin, she ran her thumb across the tip gathering up the pre cum that had already appeared there. Her other hand moved to cup your balls, which she rolled softly in her palm.

Reaching your free hand up into her hair you deepened the kiss, you couldn't stop the low growl brewing. You pulled away looking her in the eyes, she didn't stop her rhythm, just kept stroking your length back and forth, never breaking eye contact.

Your eyes moved down to admire her boobs, they were perfect, her nipples begging to be licked. Moving your head down you did just that, bringing one into your mouth and gently sucking on the nub. Swirling your tongue over it, causing her back to arch and a low breathless moan escape her lips.

You wanted nothing more than to touch her, but when you moved your hands down to her jeans button, she mumbled something about it being the wrong time. You knew that meant it was her time of the month, you'd have to repay her for this another time.

Resting your forehead against hers you could feel the low heat building, her thumb was still running circles across your tip as she pumped you. You were panting now, mumbling her name as you got closer and closer to your release.

When she picked up the pace you were done for. You tipped your head back, your hips began to move forward in time with her strokes and you couldn't helped the low grunts and growls that fell from your lips as you came hard.

Both of you paused, foreheads resting against each other again as you came down from your high.

You opened your eyes to find that Callie had moved her hand forward to catch your release but some of it had landed on her top. She reached to the side to grab some tissues, wiping down her hands before attempting to clean her top.

"Your boobs are perfect." You blurted out, noticing that her top and bra were still pulled down.

She blushed as she set about putting them back in her bra and pulling up her top. You tucked yourself back into your boxers and pulled up your jeans, not moving from between her legs.

"I have some merch here if you want to put one of the t-shirts on." You asked, seeing her struggling to wipe off your release from her top.

"Think that would be a good idea!" She smirked.

"You are incredible." You whispered as you moved down to kiss her again.

*******

Callie left your dressing room wearing a black t-shirt with the NH logo on the front. You were not going to lie, she looked hot in it. You took a shower and were just getting dressed when you had a call to say that Willie and Bex were here. Once Sienree had done your hair, you headed out to find them.

They were just walking down the corridor towards the lounge area when you met them.

"Nervous?" Willie asked.

"Very!"

"Is Callie around?"

"Not seen her since dinner about an hour ago, but she should be by the stage doing the last minute checks at this point."

Which was a blatant lie.

You stood chatting to them for a bit about what they had been up to that day, noticing how they were holding hands. A few more of your friends and your other cousin Deo arrived. The talk moved to having a party at yours after the gig instead of going out to a club and you agreed, realising that if you were at yours you'd get to be with Callie without having to hide it too much.

Being out on stage was something that you would never get over. The rush you felt being up there performing your music was indescribable.

When it came to change your guitar for a new song, Callie appeared on stage. A small smile on her face as she helped you quickly swap guitars, she really did look amazing in your merch.

After the show, everyone was milling around getting everything set down. Callie was always busy during this time so you kept away with your friends celebrating the evenings success.

Making your way out of the venue, your natural instinct was to keep her close. Luckily you were well hidden from any prying eyes. Sitting in the back of Willie's car you could finally relax with Callie, reaching over and linking your hands together. Bex and Willie knew you were both starting something together, whatever that may be.

The flat was buzzing with the chatter of your friends, 12 of you all sitting in your living room enjoying some beers. You sat yourself down next to Callie, careful to not sit too close. She was still worried about how you two would be perceived if people knew you were together. The "what are we" chat was definitely something you needed to have with her.

A couple of drinks down and you'd turned your body towards her, placing your arm behind her head resting it along the back of the sofa. You were desperate to kiss her, you'd been glancing between her eyes and her lips for the past hour.

"Do you want another drink?" You asked her.

"Yes please. Just water though, don't want to be too drunk and disorderly on the way home."

Asking around the room if anyone else wanted a drink, you and Callie made your way to the deserted kitchen. The only light was from the under cupboard lighting, and the bright glimmer of the city skyline out the window. Now out of sight and earshot of the living room, you pulled her closer to you guiding her backwards towards the kitchen counter. Lifting her up for the second time today, settling yourself between her legs.

"This feels familar." She whispered, placing her hands on your shoulders.

"Mmmm haven't stopped thinking about that if I'm honest." You whispered back.

She gave you a coy smile that showed you she was embarrassed about your naughty encounter before the show, before burying her face in your neck.

"Stay with me tonight?" You managed to whisper to her, even though the little kisses she had begun to leave on your neck were incredibly distracting.

"I can't Ni, it's that time of the month for me." She replied facing you.

"I know, I got that impression from you earlier when you wouldn't let me touch you." You smiled. "But that's not why I want you to stay."

She raised her eyebrows at you, moving her hands across the nape of neck.

"I can't even begin to tell you how good it was waking up with you this morning. I slept so well last night, better than I have in a while."

"I slept pretty good to." She admitted.

Leaning down and brushing your nose against her cheek, you kissed along her jaw and down to her neck. Her hands instantly went into your hair and a low hum of pleasure fell from her lips. Pressing your fingers into her hips and sliding her closer to you, she locked her feet just under your bum. Skimming your fingers under the hem of her t-shirt, or your t-shirt as she was still wearing your merchandise. Moving your lips towards hers, you captured them in a long deep kiss. She made your heart beat fast, you had definitely fallen for her hook line and sinker.

The main ceiling light flicked on and you both pulled away.

"Well well well" Deo chuckled. "What do we have here then?"

"Deo....leave them alone." Tara said smiling behind him.

"You owe me £20!" He replied to her. "I said they'd be in here copping off with each other!"

"Well, we managed to keep this a secret for what, less than a week?" You said, annoyed that you'd been interrupted.

"A secret?!" Deo scoffed. "You haven't kept your eyes off each other since we got here."

"Shut up!" You replied blushing, cuddling up to Callie and kissing the top of her head.

Part seven

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/182909672348/you-me-part-seven

#Niall #Niall Horan #Niall fan fic #Niall fan fiction #Niall Horan fan fic #Niall Horan fan fiction #solo Niall #flicker sessions #Emily writes #1dff #one direction #Niall smut #Niall fluff #Niall angst #Niall on tour

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wordsandshawn · 5 years

Text

Before Now - chapter 8

Previous Chapters

Kristen waits until we’re both back in her car before she brings Shawn up again. Its already past midnight because we didn’t leave the festival after an hour like we had originally planned to get back home at a decent time. We both love live music far too much for that.

As soon as I’m seated back in the passenger side of Kristen’s car, I immediately pull my laptop out and start importing the photos from my camera. I can’t wait another second to see them and get started on the editing. Kristen starts backing out of the parking stall, “What was that all about?” And even though it’s been almost three hours since Shawn left the festival, and we had been rocking out that entire time, I know what she’s talking about and she knows I know.

“My photography professor didn’t get me the gig,” I admit.

“I got that much.” She says shortly, her eyes glued to the road. “How do you know him?” She’s being a lot calmer about this than I expected, but I’m not sure if I should take that as a good sign or a bad sign.

I realize now that I’m in this situation, but I should have never kept this secret from Kristen. When I first met her, sure, it was understandable, but I’ve known her for two years now. I should have told her.

“Kris, I’m really sorry.”

Her voice gets low, “Skylar, just tell me how you know him.” She’s done with bullshit.

“I’ve known him my whole life.” I blurt.

“What do you mean?” Her voice is shrill and for a second, I’m afraid that she is going to crash the car. I’m starting to rethink having this conversation while she’s behind the wheel of the car, but there’s no going back now.

“I mean, my mom and his mom are best friends. They have been since they were kids, so we kind of grew up together, a little.”

She’s silent, and Kristen is rarely ever silent, so I know it means something. I know it means a lot. “You’re lying.” She says, but in a tone that says she doesn’t know how to believe me, but she knows that I’m telling the truth.

“I’m not. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“I don’t get it.” I know her mind is in a million places. I’m only grateful the anger hasn’t set in yet.

“I’ll explain whatever you want to know.” I offer, knowing she deserves an explanation, and it’s time for me to be honest.

“Well for starters, how could you have never mentioned it, not even a little? You know how much we love him.” She’s still in disbelief.

“It just felt weird to say after keeping it a secret for so long. I didn’t even know if you’d believe me.” She just glances at me quickly before looking back at the road.

When she doesn’t say anything in response, I take a deep breath, “In high school, when Shawn started to get famous, fans started digging up older pictures of Shawn and putting them on the internet. Some of those pictures had me in them. Shawn and I never went to the same schools, but when the kids at my high school learned that I knew him, that we grew up together, they wouldn’t leave me alone. They wanted information about Shawn, they wanted to be my friend because they thought that would mean they’d get in backstage to his shows. Some kids I thought wanted to be friends with me for me turned out to have only wanted to see if they could get to know Shawn through me. It hurt, and I got tired of being used like that. I wasn’t even close friends with Shawn by the time we reached high school. He was always gone, and we drifted apart. So, I just stopped telling anyone. I pretended I didn’t know him, and it seemed to work better.” After I finish talking, there are a few seconds of silence, probably because she doesn’t know what to say, and I’ve already said everything I have to say.

“Okay,” She pauses, still staring at the road, and I’m a little glad that her attention is divided between driving and this conversation. I’m not sure if I’d be able to have it face to face with all her attention on it. “Why didn’t you tell us later, when we were already friends. Why did you pretend to hate him? You knew we loved him.”

“Things are,” I pause, trying to find the right words. “Complicated between Shawn and I.” I dare to glance at her, and I notice her eyes widen. She knows that there has to be something within that word, complicated. And even I don’t know how to describe it, to explain what complicated even means.

“So, the ‘text me so I know you’re home safe,’ thing. That’s part of the complicated?”

I hesitate. I hadn’t thought too deeply about that sentence, except that it was what alerted Kristen to the fact that I didn’t just happen to get this gig for no real reason. “I think that’s just Shawn being Shawn.”

“I knew it!”

I’m startled by her shouting, but I ask, “Knew what?”

“I knew that he was a fucking sweetheart. You can’t fake something like that.”

I roll my eyes at her, but the smile on her face is so big that I can’t help but smile too. I’m glad that this took a turn away from the personal, even if just for a second or two. Surprisingly, Kristen doesn’t ask a ton of personal questions about Shawn. Instead, she’s more interested in what happened between us, my role in the story of the two of us. Eventually, we move on to other topics, although I know that we’ll be back on the topic of Shawn soon enough.

I spend the rest of the two-hour drive editing my pictures and trying to put together a mini video. I have a ton of fun editing the video, and I’m pleased to realize that both the pictures and videos turned out pretty great. I can get used to this concert photography thing. Tonight was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.

When Kristen and I finally arrive back at our apartment, it's past two am, but I remember to text Shawn, well, Peter(bio101). We’re home, thanks for everything tonight. I’m sending a link to a drive of the photos and a video over in a bit.

I’m so glad you came, and I’m glad you got home safe. Looking forward to seeing the pics and vid.

I don’t reply for a while, since I’m busy uploading everything to the drive to send over to Shawn. During the ride back home, I carefully chose only the best photos and focused on editing those well. I’ve seen some of the photos that Shawn’s tour photographer has taken and they’re always stunning, so I know there’s a high standard for me to live up to, and I want to do my absolute best.

I send over the photos and the video, then text Shawn. I sent them over. If you post them, do you mind not tagging me or mentioning my ig? He’ll probably think I’m weird because the whole point of this was supposed to be to help my career, and I should want the recognition for my work, but I don’t. Not for this, not right now. I’ll probably use these pictures in my portfolio, but I don’t need Shawn linking them to my social media. If it's linked then people from my Uni will probably start asking questions, and Greg will find out. It’s that last part I’m trying to avoid most. I honestly don’t think Greg processed in his mind that the person who stood up for me that night at the bar was Shawn Mendes. And as long as he never does, then we should be okay.

I’m about to fall asleep when Shawn finally replies. It all looks amazing, Skylar! Are you sure you don’t want credit?

I’m sure. I type back. Thanks again, Shawn, I really appreciate it.

And I fall asleep before bothering to wait for a reply.

If last night was a dream, then I certainly wake to reality. Four missed calls from Greg, and a string of text messages I strain to read through barely open eyes. The essential message is that he knows I went to a festival last night when I said I had a photography project. I don’t answer right away, but I start planning my response. I’m tired of lying, but I feel trapped, like I have no choice.

Greg has been going through a lot lately with his work and his family, so I don’t want to make things worse for him. I don’t want to upset him, although it is so hard not to, no matter what I do. I open Instagram and see Kristen’s Instagram post from last night. Even worse, her Instagram is public, and Shawn followed her. How he found her, I have no idea, but it is what it is. Who else follows her, none other than Greg, so my first question of how he found out is answered. It isn’t Kristen’s fault, its mine. I didn’t ask her not to post anything from last night. I didn’t even tell her that I lied to Greg. It’s my own fault for not seeing it coming. And now I have to face the consequences.

I finally gather up the courage to call him, knowing I can’t put it off any longer. He doesn’t answer, so I assume he’s busy. I text him back telling him that I did go for photography and I didn’t mean to lie to him. He doesn’t respond. I try catching up on some homework, but I’m bombarded by my other roommates who have obviously found out my connection to Shawn. They have a lot of questions, even more than Kristen. Most of the questions I don’t even have answers for, and I try to explain to them that I don’t know Shawn anymore, not really.

When I think about Greg again, I realize it’s been three hours since I texted and called him, and there hasn’t been a response. I’m trying not to read too much into it, but I do anyway.

By the time its six pm and I’ve texted and called him several more times still with no response, I think it’s clear that he’s not wanting to talk to me. I normally spend Saturday nights with him, but since he’s not picking up the phone and I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing, I decide to go out with my friends instead.

This proves to be the second big mistake of the weekend because he texts me at midnight asking me why I’m not home. He’s at my apartment and he’s upset that I’m not there. I leave the club to call him, and this time he actually answers. “Where the fuck are you?” He questions.

“I’m downtown, at a club.” I say, forcing to keep my voice even although my heart is beating out of my chest right now. A club was not my first choice for a fun Saturday night, but all my friends were going, and my boyfriend was ignoring me, so my choices were club or stay home alone in my apartment.

He sounds angry, but he also sounds sad, which catches me by surprise since he ignored me all day. I ask him to pick me up from the club and we go back home together. He’s been depressed or angry a lot more than usual lately, and I’m never exactly sure what I’m going to get when I talk to him. I want to love him, to show him that I love him because he’s sad. But he’s still mad at me for not telling him about the show and for not inviting him, and he’s made it clear that even though he picked me up, things are not okay between us. I have a lot of making up to do for lying, but he’s so cold to me, I can’t even make it up to him. I’m torn with what to do. I’m confused. I feel like this is my fault, that it's my fault he’s sad, but I don’t know how to make it better. I don’t know what to do to make things better for Greg or better between us. I just want to stop feeling like I have to walk on eggshells around him all the time. It’s exhausting, but I don’t know how to fix things, no matter how desperately I want to.

chapter 9

#Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes fanfic #Shawn Peter Raul Mendes #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Before Now

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bemused-writer · 5 years

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Title: Slithering Through History - Chapter 1

Rating: T

Pairings: Aziraphale & Crowley, Aziraphale/Crowley

Summary: Crowley was all too happy to get out of Hell and cause a little trouble up in Eden. What he didn't realize is how much more wrapped up in humanity and a very particular angel he was about to become.A look at what Aziraphale and Crowley might have gotten up to throughout the biblical text and after Armageddon.

-x-

Falling entailed a great many things and poets had done a fairly decent job of capturing the horror and the chaos thereof. What they’d never quite been able to capture was what came after. Yes, hellfire, brimstone, pain, suffering, all staples of Hell but no one ever really let on just how crowded it actually was down there or just how corporate. Crowley thought it was probably due to how much more real and depressing that would have been and probably because the concept of a corporate entity wouldn’t truly exist until the 20th century.

It wasn’t so bad in the early days before human souls were being damned left and right. No, in the early days it had only been fallen angels and they’d been frightened and confused, desperately trying to sort out what they were supposed to do now they were no longer part of the Heavenly Host.

It had taken awhile for it to sink in but their punishment was to inflict pain and suffering—Satan had given them a long lecture about it in the tone of voice of a man who really didn’t care anymore and wasn’t it marvelous he had his own throne? Afterwards he’d put Beezlebub in charge whose eyes had widened comically before accepting. Crowley had had to restrain himself from giving a sibilant chuckle at the whole absurd affair.

Still, Crowley had often wondered how much of a punishment it really was if so many of them enjoyed it. Oh, they’d been reluctant at first. They’d been angels and they didn’t know much about pain, not really. It took several meetings and presentations before the seven sins were sorted out and everyone felt like they had at least some idea of what their jobs entailed.

In fairness, Crowley could admit a good number of them didn’t derive any real pleasure out of torture but they weren’t all that hung up about it either. “It’s just a job,” they would say. “Nothing personal.”

Crowley desperately tried to convince himself he felt the same. He was a demon and he would do his duty. He wouldn’t fail, not like Before.

Still, he knew the truth of it and it was he hated it down there. The second Satan said, idly, “Would you like to see the Earth, darling?” after one of his presentations on wrath he jumped on the chance as swiftly as possible.

He broke through the warm soil and felt as if he’d been reborn. He turned his head left and right and slithered about. Most snakes had legs but he thought there was something delightfully off-putting going about on his belly, no legs in sight, draping himself about trees; he was the very picture of sloth, which was, in turn, positively sinful and if sinning was to be his eternal gig he was going to indulge.

The garden was, he reluctantly admitted, utterly stunning insofar as his limited senses could tell. He supposed that was Heaven for you; always caring about presentation more than anything else.

While his eyesight was utterly shot compared to what it had been as an angel he could tell there were infinitely more colors here than there ever had been up there or down there. Heaven was very … stringent when it came to looks. He wasn’t sure he’d seen anything other than opulent whites, rivers that gleamed like the finest opals, and gossamer robes made to match when he’d been there. Every now and then there’d been a gold pillar or some such. As for Hell, they couldn’t be bothered to decorate. Some idiot had licked the wall once and died on the spot. They’d spray painted a warning on the wall and called it good and that was about as close to design as they came.

But this felt … very earthy for lack of a better word. He could feel the vibrations of footsteps of all manner of creatures. He couldn’t make out much sound though. There were some serious downsides to being a snake, he decided. The garden was nice and warm though, which was good. He didn’t think he was made for the cold.

Now, what kind of trouble should he cause?

He circumnavigated the garden and used his tongue to detect all the heavy flavors in the air, hoping to spot God’s latest creatures, the humans. He could taste something divine to the east, light as a cloud and sharp as judgment. An angel.

He’d have to steer clear of that for a while, at least until his work was done. It had been ages since he’d seen one of his previous brothers-in-arms. He’d certainly never tasted one before. He thought about that for a moment. Something about the sentiment seemed … appropriately demon-like but it wasn’t a joke that would make much sense until he understood humans more and their penchant for lewd humor.

At long last he spotted a woman named Eve. He also spotted the two trees that were off limits: The Tree of Life and The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Bad.

He considered the three for a moment. The Tree of Life was certainly handy but that would almost definitely qualify as a “good deed,” no doubt about it. Knowledge of good and evil on the other hand…. Well, it wasn’t “bad” exactly but it definitely wasn’t “good” either. In other words, it was just wicked enough to keep his bosses happy without being so wicked he felt bad about it.

Perfect.

Apparently, God found it a good deal more wicked than Crowley had. Eve and her husband, Adam, were banished from the garden lest they also eat from the Tree of Life and become a little too god-like themselves.

Also, punishments were dished out like candy. Apparently, there would be enmity between him and women, there would be birthing pangs, and men would till the earth.

I rather liked that woman, he thought glumly.

Most annoying of all was that all snakes were slithering about on their bellies. So much for originality. Needless to say, the other snakes weren’t thrilled. He avoided them for a century after. It was utterly ridiculous; they were animals and he was a demon—he was more than capable of winning any confrontation—but he couldn’t quite make himself look them in the eye all the same. He was sort of their demonic representative and, well, now they didn’t have legs.

Even small creatures would bear a grudge over that for a while.

Regardless, Adam and Eve suffered a lot more for his sin than he did. Maybe that was why he sought out the angel gazing after them longingly atop the gate. He wouldn’t readily admit it but he felt a little guilty about the whole thing and his curiosity was piqued. The angel looked utterly miserable, far more than him, which made no sense whatsoever. He wondered if they’d ever known each other in Heaven.

As he slowly transformed into a more human guise his senses changed along with him. He could hear loads better now for a start but his eyesight was still iffy albeit a little sharper than before. He could sense movement well, make out shapes, see color although not like he had a as an angel. The color was … splotchy. He supposed he was seeing the heat radiating off of things or something similar. He may have been a snake but he was hardly an expert. Thankfully, he could still taste everything on the air and that gave him enough information to get by.

He was a little disappointed he couldn’t make the angel’s features out all that well though. Still, he was the brightest object in the surrounding area by far, so he was easy to spot.

The angel jolted a little bit when he saw him. Understandable. He could just make out the pinched expression on the angel’s face; it was hilarious but he kept that to himself.

He hadn’t expected much by way of conversation. Honestly, he’d known there was a pretty high chance the angel would try to smite him but instead they had a decent enough exchange. Apparently, he’d given away his fiery sword. It was the first time Crowley had felt awe in … ages. His heart gave a little tug in his chest that he refused to name.

As they stood in the rain with Crowley safely sheltered beneath an angelic wing, Aziraphale, said, “You know, I was supposed to be the one to guard The Tree of Life for the rest of time.”

“Sounds boring,” Crowley said without hesitation. All the world to explore and he was going to be stuck guarding a gate? But then he realized, “Wait, what do you mean ‘supposed to be?’”

Aziraphale let out a put upon sigh. “Well, to quote, ‘He drove the man out, and stationed east of the garden of Eden the cherubim and the fiery ever-turning sword, to guard the way to the tree of life.’”

“Er, what exactly are you quoting?”

“A book that hasn’t been written yet,” the angel said miserably. “But the main point is I’m supposed to be guarding this gate and I’m supposed to do it with a fiery sword. Well, you see what the problem is.”

“You gave up the sword.”

“Precisely.”

“So, the humans could become immortal at any point?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I think they understand they’re banned from this place but what about their descendents? Oh, I probably did do the wrong thing. No, I know the sword bit was wrong but the rest…”

“No offense but if God wants to hide this garden I’m sure She can do just that. If you were going to be punished it would have happened already.”

The angel shifted uncomfortably, his eyes refusing to make contact with Crowley’s own. Crowley eyed him with suspicion.

After a bit more hemming and hawing Aziraphale finally whispered, “I’m not a cherubim anymore. God didn’t say anything but… I could feel it. The demotion, that is.”

“What are you now?” Crowley said with careful neutrality.

“A principality,” he sighed. “All the way down to the third sphere.”

“Not so bad. You could have gone down a lot further.”

Aziraphale paled considerably and his eyes widened in shock. It was like he was seeing him for the first time and only now understood what he was. Crowley tried not to look too uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

“I suppose you make a good point,” he finally said, turning away.

“I usually do.”

Privately, he wondered why Aziraphale hadn’t Fallen. It left an ache in his chest when he remembered his own Fall and how pointless it had seemed.

“So, what will you do now?” Aziraphale said just as the storm finally passed. He looked up with a pleased little smile. Crowley couldn’t help but feel his burden lift a bit at the sight. It was nice to have someone who wouldn’t push him away even if his status as angel was utterly bewildering.

“Oh, you know, tempt people, I suppose. I’m to be stationed on Earth.”

“I suppose that is what you’d be doing,” Aziraphale sighed. “I suppose I’d best keep an eye on this gate for now.”

“No offense but there’s no way I’m staying in this garden.” Although part of him desperately liked the idea of hanging about the angel. All before him was an expanse of desert and only two humans to occupy it. Crowley didn’t want to admit it but it sounded rather lonely.

Aziraphale let out a quiet chuckle. “No, I didn’t suspect you would.”

“Would be a shame if demons were the only ones trying to make a difference,” Crowley said lightly with just the barest hint of the temptation he was trying to accomplish.

“Someone needs to inspire some good in this world,” Aziraphale said consideringly.

“I’ll see you around, angel,” he said with a gentleness that surprised him. He could have pushed harder but … it just didn’t seem right.

“You know, you just might.”

When Crowley departed he decided not to resume his snake form just yet. He kind of liked appearing human. It reminded him of being an angel and, better yet, was just a little bit blasphemous because of it. The other demons had gone to quite a bit more trouble to look wicked but Crowley decided he wanted to have a bit of style. It would be a lot easier to tempt humans if he looked like them as well not that there were any new ones to try it out on yet. It was a big world though and he hadn’t yet explored most of it.

His mind made up he headed back for Hell. He’d get his report in, take a look at what God had created, see what Eve got up to, and maybe, if he was lucky, see more of Aziraphale if he was ever free to explore.

#good omens #Bemused's post #fanfic

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iamcmims · 6 years

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SUPERNATURAL: Olivia Parker: Home

Words count: 8K

A/N: And here is the new chapter! The episode “Home” was heartbreaking, writing it was heartbreaking. In this chapter, you will have more answers about Olivia and Khogalla and what’s happening around her.

Feedback is always highly appreciated! If you want to be tagged, just ask me!

Taglist: @ohsoevilsoul

Warning: Blood, ghosts, evil, angst.

Previous parts: Pilot — Wendigo — Dead In The Water — Phantom Traveler — Bloody Mary — Skin — Hook Man — The Fight

Previously on Olivia Parker…

"So anything?", "I had them check the FBI's missing person data bank. No John Doe's fitting Dad's description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.", "Sam, I don't think your Dad wants to be found.", "We will find him, but if he doesn't want to be found, it will be harder, meaning you'll have to be patient.", "I know."

"The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on the 9-mile road. Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.", "Dad would check it out."

"Was he with somebody?", "Not just somebody. Lori Sorensen", "Who's Lori Sorensen?", "She's reverend's daughter."

"She heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.", "Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the—", "Yeah, the Hook Man legend.", "Maybe the Hook Man isn't a man at all. What if it's some kind of spirit?"

"Listen. You two and your brother—", "Oh, don't worry, we're leaving town."

"We could stay." Sam shakes his head. Dean watches Lori looking sad, he shakes his head and drives away.

"Levy! Stop!" The guards run forward, missing him. He takes something out of his jacket. "So close to finding you." A pearl in his hand shines bright red. He puts it back into his pocket and walks away.

"He's not just a thief, he's the prince of thieves. He's a metamorph, he's powerful. He has four of the eight pearls. We cannot let him have all of them. You find me this thief, and you kill him. I want his head far from his body."

"Khogalla is mine, you're not getting it back, Gabriel."

"Queen Olivia! You're back!", "Who are you?", "Oh right, it's right. I'm Levy, your thief. I almost have all the pears to bring you to Khogalla, your kingdom, Majesty."

"This is the kingdom of magic. Profeta is evil, but the ground of Khogalla is good, when she took over, the bad did too, killing everything that was good.", "Why are you showing me this?", "You're our savior.", "I'm a hunter! What makes you think this?", "It's in the prophecy."

"Khogalla..." On the ground of dead flowers stands one brand new rose, and the echo of Olivia's voice "Khogalla..."

"I'm bringing you home, my queen."

"The Naiads don't exist anymore."

"Archangel Gabriel, if you hear me, please show me the path to Tenebris Aurea. Help me stop this useless war."

"What if Profeta wins?", "The prophecy didn't change. Each day I look at it, each day it remains.", "Prince of Thief, I hope you're right."

"For Khogalla.", "For Queen Olivia."

Tenebris Aurea. The slayer of Hell. The well of power. The book of Alathea. The hand of the spirit of the Future

"Why would I kill the prodigy? You can't stop the hands of time."

"We're going to bring you back to your kingdom, Your Majesty.", "My what now?"

Today — Lawrence, Kansas. — Night.

A young woman named Jenny is sitting on the floor of her home, unpacking boxes. She comes across a photo of herself and her husband at their wedding. She begins to cry just as her daughter, Sari, comes in the room. "Mommy?" Jenny looks up. "Hey, sweetie. Why aren't you in bed?", "There's something in my closet." Jenny opens the closet doors and looks inside as Sari watches from her bed.", "See? There's nothing there.", "You're sure?", "I'm sure. Now, come on. Get into bed." Sari crawls into her bed, and Jenny tucks her in. "I don't like this house." Jenny looks at her daughter and sighs. "You're just not used to it yet. But you and your brother and me — we are going to be very happy here. I promise." She kisses Sari on her forehead. "I love you." She turns off the light and gets up the leave the room. "The chair.", "Okay." Jenny moves a chair under the doorknob of the closet. "The chair. Just to be safe." Sari lies down and goes the bed. Jenny leaves. After returning to the living room, Jenny continues unpacking boxes. She stops when she hears the sound of scratching coming from the basement. "Please, God, don't let it be rats." Jenny goes downstairs into the basement with a flashlight. She tries turning on a light, but the switches don't work. "Terrific." In Sari's bedroom, the chair begins moving on its own, away from the closet doors. Sari sits up in her bed, wide-eyed and afraid. Jenny keeps looking around. On the floor, she sees a large black trunk. She kneels down and opens it, pulling out old photos of the Winchester family. Written on the back of a picture are the words, "The Winchesters. John, Mary, Dean, and Little Sammy." Jenny smiles. In Sari's bedroom, the closet doors open by themselves. Standing in the closet is what looks like a person, but is entirely made out of fire. Sari screams.

The door of the motel room opens, Sam and Dean turn, Olivia enters. Dean stands up. "Where were you?" Olivia looks at him but doesn't answer. She closes the door and sits on the bed. "I…" The anger that Dean felt was replaced by worry and concern. "Olivia?" He walks to her, he kneels down, puts his hands on her legs, and looks up at her. "Olivia? You're okay?" Sam stands up too and sits on the bed. "I'm fine. I just, I'm tired." She didn't know what to make of everything she found out. The prophecy that was attached to her name, her past life, the people she left behind, the kingdom she left behind. She didn't know if she was supposed to tell Sam and Dean or not. One thing's for sure, she did not lie to them when she said she was tired. She was beyond tired, she was exhausted and lost but at the same time at so many places. Her brain kept going back to Khogalla, to Levy, to her parents, her son, and husband, to Sam and Dean. She had a choice to make, she knew it, but she didn't know if she would be capable of making it, or if she would be capable of putting this burden on Sam and Dean. So she looked at Dean and smiled, "I'm fine, don't worry. I've been walking a lot, got lost, had no signal and had to walk a lot only to realize there was a shortcut. I then went to drink and crash at a church, the father helped me find my way back." The only question was which way back is she going to chose? While Sam is sleeping, he begins dreaming of Jenny. She is inside her bedroom, screaming for help. Sam wakes up, confused. The next morning, while Dean is on the computer, Olivia reading, Sam is drawing a picture of a tree. "All right. I've been cruising some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali — its crew vanished." Olivia puts down her book and looks up at Dean. "And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas." Dean and Olivia look at Sam. "Hey." Sam looks up from his drawing. "Am I boring you with this evil stuff?", "No. I'm listening. Keep going." Olivia chuckles and focuses back on Dean. "And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times." Dean waves his hand in front of Sam's face. "Any of these things blowing up your skirt, pal?" Sam looks at the tree he drew. "Wait. I've seen this.", "Seen what?" Olivia frowns and looks at Dean, only to find him frowning too. "Seen what, Sam?" Sam gets up from the bed and goes searching through his duffel bag. "What are you doing?" Olivia stands up. Sam finds a photo of their family from when he was a baby. He compares the tree in the photo to his drawing. They are the same. "Guys, I know where we have to go next.", "Where?", "Back home — back to Kansas." Olivia is taken aback, she sits back down in her chair. "Okay, random." Says Dean. "Where'd that come from?" Asks Olivia. Sam showing the photo to Dean. Olivia stands up and looks at the picture then back at Sam. "All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?" Dean and Olivia glance at each other. "Yeah.", "And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?", "I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talking about?" Olivia stays silent, hoping they won't have to return to Lawrence. "Okay, look, this is going to sound crazy but—the people who live in our old house—I think they might be in danger.", "Why would you think that?", "Uh—it's just, hum—look, just trust me on this, okay?" Sam starts to walk away, Olivia follows him. "Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?", "Yeah.", "Sam, that's weak. You have to give us a little bit more than that. I'm not going back there on a 'trust me, okay?' I need more.", "I can't really explain it is all." Dean walks to Sam and Olivia and stands next to Olivia. "Well, tough. We're not going anywhere until you do." Sam sighs. Dean waits expectantly, so does Olivia. "I have these nightmares." Dean nods, "I've noticed.", "And sometimes—they come true." Olivia frowns. "What?" Dean is stunned, "come again?", "Look, guys—I dreamt about Jessica's death — for days before it happened." Olivia was even more confused. She was about to say something but Dean cut her, "Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence." Dean sits down on the bed, Olivia stays up. She knew better than anyone that dreams have more meaning than that. After all, she did find out in her dreams that she had a kingdom and a throne awaiting. "No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it because I didn't believe it. And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something." Sam looks at Olivia. "Right?" Olivia takes a chair and sits down. Dean looks at her and then back at Sam, overwhelmed, "I don't know." Sam sits down across from Dean and Olivia. "What do you mean you don't know, Dean?", "What Dean means—what we mean is that it's a lot to take in, alright? We all have bad memories from Lawrence, the three of us.", "This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might be the thing that killed Mom, your son and husband, and Jessica!", "All right, just slow down, would you?" Dean stands up and begins pacing. "I mean, first you tell me that you've got the Shining? And then you tell me that we have to go back home? Especially when—" Olivia looks at Dean saddened. "When what?" Sam looks at Olivia, clearly missing something, she looks back at him and sighs. "Dean swore to himself that he would never go back there again." Sam sighs. "Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure." Dean nods and looks at Olivia she nods too. "I know we do." Olivia looks away. Sam looks at her. "Olivia?" She looks at him and clears her throat, you guys should go. I'm going to stay here. Work on some salt and burn. Dean faces her, "Olivia—", "No. I'm not going back there. I'm not." Sam and Dean pull up the Impala outside their old house. "You're going to be all right, man?" Sam asks, eyeing his older brother. "Let me get back to you on that." They get out of the car. After knocking on the front door, Jenny answers it. Sam is shocked that she is the same woman from his dream. Jenny looks at the duo in front of her, "yes?", "Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal—," "I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just driving by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.", "Winchester. Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night." Dean raises his eyebrows, "you did?" Jenny nods and sets aside. "Come on in." Inside the house, the three of them go to the kitchen. Sari is at the table doing homework, Ritchie, her jumpy toddler brother, is in his playpen. "Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!" Jenny looks at Ritchie then at Sam and Dean, "that's Ritchie. He's kind of a juice junkie." She takes a sippy cup out of the refrigerator and hands it to Ritchie. "But, hey, at least he won't get scurvy." Jenny walks over to Sari. "Sari, this is Sam and Dean. They used to live here." She looks at the two men, "hi." Dean waves at her. Sam smiles, "hey, Sari." Dean focuses back on Jenny. "So, you just moved in?", "Yeah, from Wichita.", "You got family here, or…?" Asks Dean. "No. I just, uh—needed a fresh start, that's all. So, new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. And new house." Sam nods, "so, how do you like it so far?", "Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home—I mean, I'm sure you had lots of memories, happy memories here." Dean smiles weakly. "But this place has its issues." Sam frowns, "what do you mean?", "Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly." Dean nods, "oh, that's too bad. What else?", "Um—sink's backed up, there are rats in the basement." Jenny pauses. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain." Dean shakes his head, clearly not offended. "No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?", "It's just the scratching, actually.", "Mom?" Jenny kneels down next to Sari. "Ask them if it was here when they lived." Sam looks at Sari, "what, Sari?", "The thing in my closet.", "Oh, no baby, there was nothing in their closets." Jenny turns to Sam and Dean. "Right?" The brothers nod. "Right. No, no, of course not.", "she had a nightmare the other night.", "I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom — and it was on fire." Sam and Dean are shocked in front of what the little tells them. Sam and Dean walk out of the house to their car, they get inside. Sam calls Olivia and puts her on speaker. "So, verdict?" She asks. Dean sighs. "The little girl says she saw something in her closet and that it was on fire. — She what? — You hear that? A figure on fire." Says Sam. "And that woman, Jenny, that was the women in dreams?" Dean looks at Sam who nods. Olivia is heard sighing over the phone. "Yeah. And you heard what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit. — Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true. — Dean." Dean looks at the phone, he could picture the disapproving Olivia was giving him. Sam was panicking, "well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that them? — I don't know!" Sam looks at the phone, "Olivia? — Still here, just thinking. What do you think, Sam? — Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time? — Or maybe it's something else entirely, Sam, we don't know yet. — Dean is right, Sam. Perhaps you want it to be the thing that killed Mary and Jess so much that you pick up clues that aren't even ones. — Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get them out of that house. — And we will. — No, I mean now. — Okay, Sam, no. I'm on the way, you can't deal this alone. — Okay. Be careful." Dean hangs up the phone and looks at Sam who was still insisting on going now. "And how are you going to do that, huh? You got a story that she's going to believe?", "Then what are we supposed to do?" Dean parks the car in front of a gas station, they both got out of the Impala. "We just have to chill out. That's all. You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" Sam sighs. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealing with. We'd dig into the history of the house.", "Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened.", "Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?", "About that night, you mean?" Sam nods. "Not much. I remember the fire—the heat." Dean pauses for a moment. "And then I carried you out of the front door.", "You did?", "Yeah, what, you never knew that?" Sam shakes his head, "no.", "And, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was—was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.", "And he never had a theory about what did it?", "If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.", "Okay. So if we're going to figure out what's going on now—we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it's the same thing.", "Yeah. We will talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time." After a pause Sam breaks the silence, "does this feel like just another job to you?" Dean says nothing for a moment. "I will be right back. I have to go to the bathroom." Dean walks away, after turning a corner, he stands next to the bathroom door and takes out his cell phone. After making sure no one can see him, he dials a number. "This is John Winchester. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean at 866-907-3235." The beep sounds. "Dad? I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you'll get them." Dean clears his throat. "But I'm with Sam and Olivia. We're in Lawrence. And there's something in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but—" Dean's voice breaks, he pauses, barely keeping himself together. "—I don't know what to do." He begins the cry, not able to hold everything in anymore. "So, whatever you're doing. If you could get here. Please. I need your help, Dad." He hangs up sadly, with his eyes still full of unshed tears.

Olivia puts all of her stuff in her bag. She collects the things Sam and Dean left behind. She opens the door and finds the father in front of it, ready to knock. "Father. What are you doing here?" He looks at her bag. "I see you're on your way." She looks down at the duffel and then back at the Father. "Yeah, but come on in." She steps aside and closes the door once the father is in. "What can I do for you?", "I found something, I think you might need it." The father gets out a necklace that had eight pearls on it. She puts the bag down and takes it. "What is it?", "It's our world's pearls." She looks up at him. "You mean the pearls that they need for me to be back?", "Yes, but without the eight other pearls, the ones you have in hands are useless.", "Padre, what are those pearls exactly?", "You. They're you. It's your powers as it is your soul and your memories. Once the sixteen pearls are back together, everything will be back to the way it was.", "You mean it will defeat Profeta?", "No. That only you can do. You and your sword, The Slayer Of Hell.", "The Slayer of what?", "The Slayer Of Hell is your sword, it was made from the Archangel Lucifer's blood and the fire of his anger, and the powers of his brother, Michael. This sword can kill anything, from Gods, Angels, Archangels, Creatures, to Humans. No matter what it is fighting against, it is able to destroy it." Olivia looks down at the necklace. "I know this is a lot to take in, my child, but there isn't much time. If Profeta has the full power and control of Khogalla—" Olivia looks at him, "she'll go for the rest of the world." He nods. "I have to go, Padre. But I will be back.", "You have the phone of the church.", "And you have mine. We will keep in touch." She walks the father to the door. "Thank you." He smiles and leaves. Olivia closes the door and goes to the bathroom, she washes her face with cold water. She dries it, takes the necklace and puts it on.

In Sam and Dean's old house, Jenny is showing a plumber to the kitchen, near the skin. "No, sir, nothing weird down there, I promise. Sink just backed up on its own.", "Well, I'll take a look.", "Thanks." They look at each other for a moment until Jenny gets it, "Oh, okay, I'll get out of your way." Jenny leaves, the plumber sets down his tools and begins looking at the pipes under the sink. A few feet away, by Ritchie's playpen, a toy monkey is sitting with cymbals in its hands. Without warning, the monkey starts up. It clashes its cymbals together loudly while cackling. After a moment, the plumber looks up, confused. The toy stops, the plumber stands up and tries turning on the garbage disposal, but it doesn't work. Instead, he rolls up his sleeve and sticks his hand down the disposal. He thinks he feels something in the drain, but when he takes his hand out, there is nothing. He sticks most of his arm back down the disposal. Suddenly, the garbage disposal starts up. The plumber's arm is being completely torn apart as blood splatters everywhere. At the same time, the cymbal-clashing monkey starts up again, cackling as the plumber screams. At the Guenther's auto repair, Sam and Dean are talking to the owner of the garage. "So you and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together?" The man nods at Dean. "Yeah, we used to, a long time ago. Matter of fact, it must be, uh—twenty years since John disappeared. So why the cops interested all of a sudden?", "Oh, we're re-opening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is one of them.", "Oh well, what do you want to know about John?", "Well, whatever you remember, you know, whatever sticks out of your mind.", "Well—he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that." The owner laughs. "And, uh, whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It's that whole Marine thing." Sam and Dean nod. "But, oh, he sure loved Mary. And he doted on those kids." Sam speaks up for the first time since they're in the garage. "But that was before the fire?", "That's right.", "He ever talks about that night?", "No, not at first. I think he was in shock.", "Right." Sam nods, "but eventually? What did he say about it?", "Oh, he wasn't thinking straight. He said something caused that fire and killed Mary." Dean frowns, "did he ever say what did it?", "Nothing did it. It was an accident — an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or something. I begged him to get some help, but…" Dean pushes, "but what?", "Oh, he just got worse and worse.", "How?" Asks Dean. "He started reading these strange old books. He started going to see this palm reader in town.", "Palm reader? Do you have a name?" The owner scoffs at Dean, "No." The Impala is parked by a payphone where Sam is looking through a phonebook. "All right, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town. There's someone named El Divino. There's uh—" Sam laughs. "—there's the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky. Uh, Missouri Moseley—", Wait, wait. Missouri Moseley?" Sam looks at Dean, "what?", "That's a psychic?", "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess so." Dean goes into the backseat of the car and pulls out John's journal. "In Dad's journal—here, look at this." He opens to the first page. "First page, first sentence, read that. "I went to Missouri, and I learned the truth." Dean shrugs. "I always thought he meant the state. Sam and Dean are in front of their motel, leaning on the car. Olivia's car pulls up next to the Impala. She get's out and walks to Sam and Dean. Sam notices her necklace and frowns. He points at it. "What is it?", "Oh, uh, a necklace. So where are we heading?" Missouri Moseley is escorting a man out of the house while Sam, Dean, and Olivia sit on the couch, waiting. "All right, there. Don't you worry about a thing. Your wife is crazy about you." The man thanks her and she closes the front door behind him. "Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-banging the gardener." Olivia laughs. "Tough.", "Why didn't you tell him?" Wonders Dean. "People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news." The trio stares at her. "Well? Sam, Dean, Olivia, come on already. I ain't got all day." She leaves the room. Sam and Dean exchange a confused look, Olivia chuckles and shakes her head. They stand up and follow her into the next room. "Well, let me look at you." She laughs. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome. And Olivia Parker, you look a lot like your mother when she was your age." She points a finger at Dean. "And you were one goofy-looking kid, too." Dean glares at her while Sam and Olivia smirk. "Sam." She grabs his hand. "Oh, honey— I'm sorry about your girlfriend." The three of them are shocked. "And your father— he's missing?", "How'd you know all that?", "Well, you were just thinking it just now." Sam raises his eyebrows, surprised. "Well, where is he? Is he okay?" She looks at Dean. "I don't know.", "Don't know? Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?", "Boy, you see me sawing some bony tramp in half? You think a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please." Sam smirks at Dean, they sit down. Missouri snaps at Dean. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm going to whack you with a spoon!", "I didn't do anything.", "But you were thinking about it." Dean raises his eyebrows. Sam smiles. Missouri looks at Olivia. "You seem preoccupied, young lady." Missouri looks at Olivia's necklace. "That necklace around your neck, it's powerful." She looks at Olivia, frowning, searching for an answer. "You're in a conflict. You have a choice to make." Olivia clears her throat and slightly moves in her seat. Sam looks at Olivia and sees her discomfort. "Okay. So, our dad — when did you first meet him?" Missouri keeps her eyes on Olivia, then looks at Sam. "He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say—I drew back the curtain for him.", "What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?" Missouri nods at Dean's question. "A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.", "And could you?", "I—" She shakes her head. Olivia frowns, "Missouri, what was it?" She answers softly, "I don't know. Oh, but it was evil." Jenny is on the phone in the kitchen while Ritchie jumps around in his playpen. "Look, I feel just awful about the poor man's hand. (...) Wait, but how can I be held liable? (…) Yeah, but I can't afford a lawyer." Jenny begins to hear noises from upstairs. "Okay, listen, you just have to let me call you back." She hangs up. "Ritchie, um, Mommy's going to be right back, okay?", "Okay." Jenny leaves the room. "So, the thing that killed your mom, your girlfriend, your husband, and son—you think something is back in that house?" Sam nods, "Definitely.", "I don't understand.", "What?" Asks Sam. "I haven't been back inside, but I've been keeping an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it acting up now?" Sam shakes his head, "I don't know. But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once — it just feels like something is starting." Olivia sighs, Dean shakes his head, "well, that's a comforting thought. When Ritchie is alone in the kitchen, one of the screws on his playpen mysteriously comes out of place. One of the playpen's sides falls to the floor. At the same time, the safety latch on the door of the refrigerator comes undone. The fridge opens, curious, Ritchie walks over to it. Inside, he sees his sippy cup full of juice. "Juicy." He climbs into the fridge and sits on one of the shelves. Suddenly, the refrigerator door closes, and the safety latch locks into place. Jenny returns to the kitchen. "Oh, baby, either we have rats, or Mommy's going crazy." She sees that the playpen is empty. "Ritchie? Ritchie?" Panicked, she rushes into the other rooms and tries to find him. "Baby, where are you?!" she comes back into the kitchen, breathing heavily. She sees milk leaking out from inside the fridge. She goes over to it and opens the door. "Mommy.", "Oh my, God!" She takes Ritchie out of the fridge and holds him in her arms. A few moments later, there is a knock on the door. She answers it and sees Sam, Dean, Olivia, and Missouri. "Sam. Dean. What are you doing here?" Sam smiles. "Hey, Jenny. This are our friends, Missouri and Olivia.", "If it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show them the old house. You know, for old time's sake."Dean shows a quick smile. "You know, this isn't a good time. I'm kind of busy.", "Listen, Jenny, it's important." Missouri smacks Dean on the back of the head. "Ow!", "Give the poor girl a break, can't you see she's upset?" Missouri looks at Jenny. "Forgive this boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out." Dean looks at Missouri stunned. Olivia rolls her eyes, at first Missouri was fun, but she kept picking on Dean. It started to grow on her. So, she slowly takes Dean's hand in hers. He looks at her, she smiles. Jenny looks at Missouri. "About what?", "About this house.", "What are you talking about?", "I think you know what I'm talking about. You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?", "Who are you?", "We are people who can help, who can stop this thing. But you're going to have to trust us, just a little." Jenny looks unsure. Missouri, Sam, Dean, and Olivia are in Sari's bedroom. Olivia's phone rings. She excuses herself, gets out of the house and answers it. "Olivia Parker. (…) Father? (…) Where are you?! (…) I'm on my way. Hide. I'm coming." She gets upstairs, she takes Dean's hand and gets him out of the room. "I have to head to somewhere. A friend of mine needs me." Dean frowns. "You've been secretive lately.", "I know, I know. And I promise you I will explain everything, but I have to go. His life is in danger." Dean nods, "okay. But be careful. Messages." Olivia nods and leaves the house. Dean returns to the bedroom with Sam and Missouri. "If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it." Sam looks at Missouri, "why?", "This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened." Sam glances at the ceiling. While Missouri looks around the room, Dean pulls out his EMF. Missouri looks at him, "is that an EMF?", "Yeah.", "Amateur." Dean glares at her. He nudges Sam and shows him that the EMF is beeping frantically. "I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain't the thing that took your mom. "Wait, are you sure?" She nods at Sam. "How do you know?" Asks Sam. "It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It's something different.", "What is it?" She shakes her head at Dean's question, "not it." She opens the closet. "Them. There's more than one spirit in this place." Dean looks at Sam then back at Missouri, "what are they doing here?", "They're here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected." Sam frowns, "I don't understand.", "this place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny, and her babies are dead.", "You said there was more than one spirit." Missouri looks at Sam. "There is. I just can't quite make out the second one.", "Well, one thing's for damn sure — nobody's dying in this house ever again. so whatever is here, how do we stop it?" Missouri looks at Dean and sighs.

Olivia stops her car in an alley. "Father Moore?" She looks around the dark alley, she takes her gun and loads it. "Father Moore!" She hears something moving, she points her gun at it and approaches. When she's close enough, she sees Father Moore lying on the ground. She unloads her gun and runs to him. "Father!! Oh my, God." She puts him on her lap, she presses her hands on his wound that is on his right side. "What happened?", "You have to be careful." She frowns. "Profeta is here." She looks around her then back at Father Moore. "Okay. I'm going to bring you to the hospital." He slightly shakes his head. "Bring me to my Church.", "What? But you're going to die!!", "I'm not afraid of death. Please." Olivia puts him in the backseat of her car and drives as fast as she could to his church. Once she arrives, she pulls up, gets out of the car, opens the backseat door and helps the Father out. They slowly walk to the church, once they're inside, Olivia makes him sit on a bench. She kneels in front of him. "There's got to be a way.", "There isn't. I'm the message. She's coming for you." Father Moore coughs, making blood come out of his mouth. "Oh, this is bad. Please let me bring you to the hospital! You have internal bleeding, please, please.", "No hospital can save me, Queen Olivia." She frowns. She stands up, pacing in the church. She was starting to panic. She stops and looks at Father Moore. "Father?" Her grunts, showing Olivia he was still alive. "Okay. Okay." She turns around and looks at the Jesus statue. "Okay." She takes her necklace in her hands. "Please. Make it work." She closes her eyes and goes down on her knees. "Levy. If you hear me, please. I need your help."

"This is the seventh's pearl. Only one left. And we will be able to—" A strong wind is felt. Levy and the man look around. "Levy. If you hear me, please. I need your help." Levy's eyes widen, "Olivia.", "We have to find the eighth pearl." Levy nods. "And we have to hurry."

"You need to talk with your heart." Olivia turns around and looks at Father Moore. "He can hear you, but he can't find you. Your souls are bound, he's your other half. Talk to him with your heart, it's the only way for you to get him to find you." She nods and places herself again.

Levy was searching with the man for the last pearl, they were both walking when he suddenly stops. "What's going on, Levy?" Levy's eyes go red. "Olivia…" In front of them, something bright red raises in the air. The man looks at it. "Levy, it's the last pearl." Levy raises his hand, the pearl comes to him and into his palm. Suddenly, Levy wasn't in Khogalla anymore. He was in a church, in front of him Olivia was on her knees, her necklace in hands.

Sam and Dean are at Missouri's house, sitting around a table. On this table are different herbs and roots. "So, what is all this stuff, anyway?" Asks Dean. "Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds, and ends.", "Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?", "We're going to put them inside the walls in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house.", "We will be punching holes in the drywall. Jenny's going to love that." Missouri looks at Dean and answers slyly, "she'll live.", "And this will destroy the spirits?" Missouri looks at Sam, "it should. It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to, things are going to get bad." Missouri is walking Jenny and her kids outside. "Look, I'm not so sure I'm comfortable leaving you guys here alone." Missouri smiles at Jenny, "just take your kids to the movies or something, and it will be over by the time you get back." Jenny, still slightly unsure, leaves with her kids. Missouri goes back inside. Sam goes into one of the rooms with a hammer. He kneels down by the wall and begins using the end of the hammer to hit against the walls. While he is doing this, a plug on the other side of the room takes itself out of the outlet. A lamp begins to move on its own. The plug snakes its way towards Sam. Downstairs in the kitchen, Dean is punching the wall with a small ax. Behind him, a drawer begins to open on its own. In the basement, Missouri is looking around. She brings a bag full of herbs to the wall. She hears a noise and turns around to see a table coming towards her. She screams as it pins her against the wall. Dean hears a noise, he quickly ducks just as a knife hurls itself into a cabinet. Dean places a table in front of himself as more knives come through it. Sam is chopping a hole in the wall. The lamp crashes to the ground. Sam turns around to see what the noise was, and the cord wraps itself around his neck. Sam falls to the ground, trying to get the cord off. Eventually, he lies weak on the floor. Dean runs upstairs and into the room. "Sam!" Dea rushes over to him and tries to get the cord off, but it won't budge. Instead, Dean kicks a hole in the wall and places the bag of herbs inside. A blinding white light leaves the room. Once the spirit is gone, Dean goes back over to Sam, who is completely weak. Dean unravels the cord from around Sam's neck and pulls him into a fierce hug. A few hours later, Sam, Dean, and Missouri are standing in the extremely messy kitchen. Sam looks at Missouri, "Are you sure this is over?", "I'm sure. Why? Why do you ask?", "Never mind." Sam sighs. "It's nothing, I guess." They hear Jenny enter the house. "Hello? We're home." She comes into the kitchen and looks around. "What happened?", "Hi, sorry. Um, we will pay for all of this." Dean looks over at Sam, confused. "Don't you worry. Dean's going to clean up this mess." Dean stands there, not moving. Missouri looks at him. "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop." Dean begins walking away. "And don't you cuss at me!" Dean walks away, muttering under his breath. Missouri and the boys leave the house. Jenny waves and shuts the door behind them.

Jenny is in bed, reading a magazine. She yawns and puts the magazine on her bedside table. After turning off the light and sliding underneath the covers, she goes to sleep. A few seconds later, she opens her eyes, startled. The bed begins to shake violently. She screams and gets out of bed. Sam and Dean are outside the Winchester house, sitting in the Impala. "All right, so, tell me again, what are we still doing here?", "I don't know. I just…I still have a bad feeling.", "Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.", "Yeah, well, probably. But I just want to make sure, that's all.", "Yeah, well, the problem is, we could be on our way to Olivia and find where she is. I still have no messages from her, she doesn't answer my calls. Goes straight to voicemail." Sam looks up at Jenny's bedroom window and sees her screaming, just as in his dream. "Dean. Look, Dean!" They rush out of the car and run towards the house. "You grab the kids, I'll get Jenny." Inside Sari's bedroom, the figure made out of fire is standing by her closet. In the hallway, Dean rushes to Jenny's bedroom door. "Jenny!", "I can't open the door!", "Stand back!" Jenny moves back, Dean kicks down the door and brings her downstairs. "No, my kids!!", "Sam's got your kids, come on." While carrying Ritchie in his arms, Sam goes to Sari's bedroom, where she is screaming for help. Sam goes to Sari's bed and picks her up in his other arm. "Don't look. Don't look!" They leave the bedroom. Outside, Dean and Jenny rush out of the house. Inside the house, Sam rushes down the stairs and puts the kids down on the floor. "All right, Sari, take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don't look back." Suddenly, an invisible force makes Sam fall to the floor. He slides backward into another room, crashing into a table. Sari screams and runs outside with Ritchie. They rush outside to Dean and Jenny. Dean kneels down to Sari's eye level. "Sari, where's Sam?" Sari, crying, answers to Dean, "he's inside. Something's got him." Panicked, Dean looks at the front door. It slams shut on its own. Dean opens the trunk of the Impala and grabs a rifle and an ax. He rushes to the front door and begins chopping away at it. Inside the kitchen, Sam gets flung into a set of cabinets. He stands up and is pinned against the wall by the invisible force. He can't move any part of his body. The fire figure makes its way towards Sam. Dean continues chopping down parts of the door. Eventually, he makes a whole that he is able to step through. He walks through the house, looking for Sam. "Sam? Sam!" He finds Sam. As he looks at the fire figure, he raises his gun. "No, don't! Don't!", "What? Why?!", "Because I know who it is. I can see her now." Suddenly, the fire vanishes. Instead, standing in front of them is their mother, Mary Winchester. Exactly as she was the night she died. Dean's expression softens. In shock, he lowers his gun slowly. "Mom?" Mary smiles and stops closer to him. "Dean." Tears form in Dean's eyes. Mary walks away from him and goes to Sam. Dean watches her, never taking his eyes off her. "Sam." Sam smiles weakly, crying. His mother's smile fades. "I'm sorry.", "For what?" She looks at him sadly but says nothing. She walks away from them and looks up at the ceiling. "You get out of my house. And let go of my son." Once again, she bursts into flames. When she is entirely engulfed, the fire reaches the ceiling and disappears. The force holding Sam to the wall is released. He walks over to Dean and the two of them look at each other, stunned. Sam sighs, "now it's over."

Dean is standing by the car with Jenny, looking through old photos. "Thanks for these.", "Don't thank me, they're yours." Dean puts the trunk of photos into the car. Sitting on the front steps of the house, Sam is joined by Missouri. "Well, there are no spirits in there anymore, this time for sure.", "Not even my mom?", "No.", "What happened?", "Your mom's spirit and the poltergeist energy, they canceled each other out. Your mom destroyed herself going after the thing.", "Why would she do something like that?", "Well, to protect her boys, of course." Sam nods, with tears in his eyes. Missouri goes to put her hand on his shoulder, but she stops herself. "Sam, I'm sorry.", "For what?", "You sensed it was here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't.", "What is happening to me?", "I know I should have all the answers, but I don't know.", "Sam, you're ready? We have to find Olivia." Sam nods and goes to the car. Jenny thanks all of them. Missouri looks at Sam and Dean, "don't you boys be strangers." Dean nods, "we won't." Missouri smiles, "see you around." Jenny waves. They smile, get in the car, and drive away.

Missouri comes inside her house and sets her purse on the table. "That boy—he has such powerful abilities. But why he couldn't sense his own father, I have no idea." John is sitting on the couch. "Mary's spirit—do you really think she saved the boys?", "I do." John nods sadly and twists his wedding ring on his finger. "John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won't you go talk to your children?" Tearfully, John answers, "I want to. You have no idea how much I want to see them. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth." Missouri and John share a look. "Dean said that Olivia is missing." John frowns. "What? Since when?", "She was with us yesterday, she left, and since then they have no news about her." John looks at Missouri, "you know something, don't you?", "Sam is powerful, but Olivia? She's a force of nature."

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suallenparker · 7 years

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Philinda Fanfic: Behind the Scenes, Chapter 9

RATING: T

SPOILER: This is set in a Universe where Phil quit his Tony Stark babysitting duties after the first gig and returned to active field work. So, basically their backstories stay the same until after the first Iron Man Movie.

SUMMARY: After her former partner Phil Coulson almost got killed in action, the traumatized SHIELD agent Melinda May returns to duty. She and Phil go undercover as contestants of the celebrated TV show “Forever Love” to catch a stalker and to trip a traitor.

NOTES: See Chapter 1. Life’s still crazy busy (but good!) so unfortunately I can’t update as quickly as I’m used to. Thank you so much to @crazymaryt and @carolineaquino73 for their endless support and to @imaginationallcompact, @firedragon1109, @badassblackwidowcavalry and @plechka for telling me to write!

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Chapter 9: Cocktail Party in which Phil gets stolen away twice.

It smelled like pizza. And everything else was dreadful.

Another group-date.

Worse; a pizza making competition.

Melinda stood in the first row of a big teaching kitchen, behind a cooking station, that had everything a chef might need; an oven, fridge, stove, lots of pots, pans and knifes. The only things she really liked here were the knifes.

Why in the hell had Phil thought that getting Melinda into a cooking competition could be a good idea? Like ever?

Yesterday he had taken Anisa horseback riding and the day before that he and Faith had been to a wine tasting.

Why hadn’t he taken her to the wine tasting?

But nope. Instead she got stuck with this.

“Relax your lips, please,” Hand said. She had one hand under Melinda’s chin as she refreshed Melinda’s lipstick with a small lip brush.

“In five minutes we’ll be with you, Diane,” Javier said from behind her.

“She’ll be ready,” Hand said and put the lip brush away and pulled out a big fluffy one from her set. The powder brush.

Melinda hated getting her face powdered!

Hand pulled out the hated box of loose powder, dipped her brush in and lightly dusted Melinda’s forehead.

Behind Melinda, Lorelei was having a chat with Phil about why she chose to top her pizza with spring onions.

At the kitchen station to their right, Audrey was chopping basil. Because of course she knew how to cook.

Going by sound, Katherine was already setting up a plate for her pizza behind Audrey’s station.

“How’re you holding up?” Hand asked when she finally put all her brushes away.

Melinda shrugged. “So far I didn’t burn anything.”

“Might be because you didn’t switch the oven on yet.”

Oh crap.

Grinning slyly, Hand left her behind to powder up somebody else. Melinda rushed to the oven and kneeled in front of it. And it wasn’t turned on. The light was, yes, but that was it. Inside the oven, her pepperoni and bell pepper pizza was still raw.

Crap!

Of course Phil had to pick this exact moment to show up at her station. And of course Javier and his film crew followed him. While Phil walked up next to her, Javier, Rebecca the camera woman and Jess the sound lady moved around the station.

Phil smiled at Melinda.

With a sigh, she stood up. “I swear I’m only useless in the kitchen.”

He raised a brow.

“I forgot to turn on the oven.”

His smile widened. “At least you didn’t burn anything.”

Damn him. She had to smile too.

“Did I tell you I’m a good cook?” he asked.

Now was he trying to make her feel better or was he just mocking her? Knowing him, he was probably doing both. She squinted at him.

He pulled up his shoulders. “If you stick with me you’ll never have to do any of this ever again, that’s all I’m saying.”

o0o

At the cocktail party Audrey led him to the pool area of the garden.

Candles were set around the pool, some floated on the water. Two upholstered lounge chairs stood in front of the pool.

Her hand felt soft in his. When she squeezed his fingers gently, he squeezed back. His heart was pounding. This was a lie. And this was wrong.

But it was also the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for him.

She looked absolutely stunning in her short blue dress. Her eyes looked even bigger and darker tonight. The twinkle in them made him giddy.

The film crew walking in front of them reminded him of reality. This wasn’t a date. This was a mission. Just like yesterday had been a mission. After Audrey had won the pizza competition, he had whisked her away to a little gondola ride, where they had enjoyed each other’s company and Audrey’s winning pizza.

“I noticed you really liked the red wine,” she said as she stopped next to the lounge chairs and let go of his hand. For a moment he missed her touch. As false as all of this was, she was real. And it felt good to be with a woman who was actually interested in him. Well, in a version of him.

She picked up something from the ground. “So I got you a bottle of wine from my hometown.” She showed him a bottle and he let go of her other hand.

“I thought we could share it,” she added. Her blushing cheeks made her look even more beautiful.

“I’d love that.” He smiled.

Five minutes later they sat next to each other on one of the chairs, each holding a glass of delicious red wine in one hand and holding the hand of the other with another. She was right. The wine was delicious!

Audrey put the glass on the ground. “You make me feel good.”

He opened his mouth, but she shook her head.

“Sorry, that was clumsy. I mean, around you I always feel good. You make me feel like home.”

His heart raced and all he could do was stare at her. She was so sweet. And he really liked her. This was so unfair!

She snorted and looked away. “That was super cheesy, I’m sorry.”

This was unbearable. He forced himself to smile and put his glass down too, so her could cover her hand in both of his. “I told you; there’s nothing too cheesy for me.”

Audrey met his gaze and sighed. “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

He hated this. She deserved better. He wished he didn’t have to pretend. He wished he could set her free and send her home. But this was the job. So he leaned in.

Her lips were even softer than her hands. Everything about was soft and sweet and gentle. For a moment he closed his eyes and allowed himself just to kiss her. She deserved a moment without pretense. And it had been ages since he last kissed someone like this.

He pulled away and squeezed her hand again. “This is really nice,” he said.

She looked so happy, it broke his heart.

Then he saw Melinda standing next to the camera in front of him and his heart just stopped.

o0o

Melinda stepped in front of Rebecca’s camera as Javier gave her a gentle push. Of course another camera person named Sebastian was already in place to capture Melinda’s face as she approached Phil and Audrey.

As soon as Phil saw her, he moved away from Audrey. - Or maybe it was just her wishful thinking.

Audrey didn’t look happy at all.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Melinda said. Nope, she was not. Last thing she wanted was to see him kissing other women; stupid and selfish as it might’ve been.

God, she really was stupid. This wasn’t just Phil kissing somebody else, it was Phil being undercover kissing someone else to keep that cover and even if not – Melinda pulled up her shoulders and gave him a flirty look.

Even if not, she had no hold on him. Her feelings were just her own.

“It’s just we barely saw each other this week. So could I steal you for a bit?” she asked.

“Of course.” He squeezed Audrey’s hand. “To be continued?”

She smiled gracefully. “To be continued.”

God, they were cute.

This sucked!

Phil got up and let go of Audrey.

Melinda didn’t even notice that she had reached out hers until he grabbed it. Not that it wasn’t a good move, especially in front of those cameras surrounding them. Still.

Usually she had better control over her actions.

She lead him to their little space in the garden. The flowers in the pots had changed, now they were a mix of dark red and pink roses. A pizza box rested on their bench.

Phil raised his brows. “What is this?”

“I can’t cook but I’m very good at ordering.” - She had to ask Javier for help since she hardly could’ve used her Hill phone for this. He had been thrilled with her “romantic idea” and so here they were. Pizza, camera and all. Because of course Javier, Rebecca and Sebastian followed them.

He shook his head laughing. “You amaze me.”

Yeah, right. Grinning, she pulled him over to the bench. After they sat down, he opens the box like a present and his eyes light up.

“Pepperoni’s my favorite.”

Of course she knew that. “I’m sorry it’s cold.”

He picked up a slice and bit into it. “At least it’s not raw.”

She elbowed him and he laughed. That moment she felt like it was just them. Just Phil and Melinda.

She picked up a slice too and for a while they just sat next to each other and ate. Like they did so many times before.

Then he looked at her with such … what? Adoration, maybe? Or maybe he was just pretending to fall in love. Whatever it might’ve been, it made her heart skip a beat.

“This is really nice.” His voice was soft.

“It really is.”

“I could get used to this.”

“To cold pizza?”

“To you.” He swallowed. “I meant to eating cold pizza with you.”

She’d eat cold pizza with him every day. She was so dumb.

Phil pressed his lips together before he looked at her. “That was a lie. Pizza isn’t really a factor here.”

Her heart started racing. She really, really wanted to kiss him.

“How do you picture your life?” she asked instead. “I mean, once you’ll get married?” Because she really needed a reality check right now. She needed him to say something that wouldn’t fit her at all. Just a little reminder that this was him doing his job.

Because damn it, she wanted it to be true so badly it hurt.

“I don’t have a fixed picture, if that’s what you’re asking for. I don’t need a house – though it could be nice, or a dog or anything …” He pulled up his shoulders. “I want to be with someone who wants to know me. Who’s smart and kind and strong and … I don’t really care what we do as long as we can do it together.”

That sounded perfect. Just … perfect. She swallowed hard.

“Do you think you’d like to marry again?” he asked.

“Only the right person.” She looked at him. If she’d ever marry again, it’d be him.

Their gazes lock. He had such beautiful eyes!

They kissed on other missions before. She wanted to kiss him now. It would be good for the mission.

He tilted his head a little.

She was just doing her job, right?

God, she wanted to kiss him.

She leaned into him and –

“Rebecca Shepard, you’re under arrest.”

o0o

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AND that is chapter 9 for you! Gosh, I’m nervous about this one! Please don’t hate me! I promise I’ll make it up to you. :) As always I’d love to hear from you so please leave a comment (even if you hate me)!

#philinda #philinda fanfiction #melinda may #phil coulson #agents of shield

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artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

City of Stars (Pearlet) - Leatwerpenn

A/N - The moment we have all been waiting for. Its spring, and spring is the season for valentines, isn’t it? Once again, if you have missed the previous chapters (Or if you cant find them in the tags) you can find them HERE in the masterpost. Some minor mentions of Violet/Adore and friendship between Violet/Fame / Pearl/Willam and Pearl/Detox City of stars, are you shining just for me?

Chapter 3

(2011) 5 Years Before. LA. Spring. “Thank you for coming Mr Dardo”. Jason looked up at the casting agent and he could see in their eyes that he wasn’t getting a call back from this audition either. Damn, 5 this week and nothing. Are you serious? - He thought. Sighing heavily, Jason picked up his bag and left the studio in a rush of tears. _______________________________________ Jason found himself once again, face buried into his pillow of his apartment. Kurtis and Patrick’s relationship seemed to be getting more serious, resulting in the apartment being quiet and lifeless. Jason didn’t mind this, because at least when he was Violet, there was no need to sneak down the fire escape to avoid Kurtis anymore. He lost his steady gig at Roy’s after he decided to do his own thing that night a couple of months back. Jason still worked at the coffee shop though, but his work as Violet was pretty much, non-existent. Jason was still finding it hard to come to terms with himself and who Violet was, or rather, how Jason and Violet fit together. This being the main reason he wasn’t really getting any work as Violet. The idea of being called a Drag Queen didn’t appeal to him. Sometimes, he felt like being Jason and sometimes he felt like being Violet. He was scared that people wouldn’t understand that. Why am I like this? A feeling of desperation began to take over. He could barely understand how he had gotten to this point. So this is what rock bottom feels like. Jason took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, stopping once it landed on Boomers number. Am I desperate enough to get money from him? He put his head back into his pillow and cried harder than he felt like he ever had. Jason picked his phone back up and started to scroll through his photos. He stopped when he saw a photo that he had clearly forgotten to delete. It was a photo of his ex, Danny, who was now a really successful musician - who was very comfortable in not only being Danny, but being Adore too. Jason both loved and hated Danny, he had everything Jason desired, well almost everything. Danny liked to perform as himself when it came to music but he was a successful drag artist too. Jason was drawn to him because of his self-confidence. Danny soon realised that Jason was a fucking mess and dumped him not long after they slept together the first time. Is that why you dumped me? Am I that repulsive? He had never told Danny about Violet. He was afraid. Deleting the picture, he checked his phone for any more signs of Danny. All evidence had been deleted. Thank god. Jason’s mind wondered back to his insecurities as he laid on his bed. He turned and was now laying on his back. He loved the stars; but hated that he couldn’t see them outside much in LA because of the pollution. One night a few months back, when he had drunk more vodka than he cared to admit, he stole some of those glow in the dark stars from the dollar store. Those stars were now super glued to his ceiling. He liked to gaze at them when he felt lost. Tonight, he was lost. Jason got up, closed his curtains, turned the lights off and laid back on his bed, and all he could see were stars. (2003) 8 years before. Atlanta. Spring. Who is this person looking back at me, what is your name. Jason looked at himself in the mirror or, herself? God, who am I. He watched, as the mascara dripped down the side of his face in morbid fascination. Down his cheek… chin… drip. Jason heard his mother clear her throat behind him. He didn’t move to look at her. “Hi honey, what are you doing” His mother quietly approached, and perched next to him at her vanity. She nudged Jason’s shoulder when she didn’t get a response. “Who am I mum?” Jason’s tears fell over the edge and he grabbed his mum in a tight embrace. “What am I going to do when you go?” He could feel his mum stroking the back of his hair to soothe him. “I don’t know angel, but I know that you are an amazing human being. You’ll figure it out. You are only 14 years old, everything isn’t supposed to make sense yet. Hell, I’m dying of cancer and it still doesn’t make sense. You are my child, and I will love you no matter what. You are my star.” Jason looked at his mum through his smudged make-up and gave her a small smile. “Now, if I help you do your face, will you come and sing with me while I play our tune. I know you have that song finished sweetie and I would love to hear it.” Jason gave a small nod and his mom and she started to work on touching up his makeup. When she was finished, he looked into the mirror, and all he could see were stars. (2011) LA. Spring. Jason woke up in pitch darkness. It wasn’t often that he slept in the dark as it frightened him. He was rudely awoke from a dream of his Mother by his phone. It was violently vibrating on his bedside table.

“Hello?” He answered groggily. “Jason, where the fuck are you? You were supposed to be coming with me to that make-up benefit I told you about.” Jason smiled as Kurtis continued to bust his balls about being so miserable all the time. Why can’t I be more positive like Kurtis was? Wait. “Hey, sorry to interrupt but… I do want to come, and I’m actually not working but…” Jason wanted to tell Kurtis so badly about Violet. God, this is so hard. “Okay, I’m going to tell you a secret, and the only other person in the world who knows this about me is dead so… Can you come home?” Jason felt the tears in his eyes but he wanted so badly to tell somebody. “Umm, sure. We have to go in about an hour though, are you good for that?” Jason panicked, he normally spent at least 2 hours becoming Violet. However, he wanted to be challenged. “Just get here ASAP!” Hanging up the phone, he put his favourite instrumental Spotify playlist on and started to become Violet. _______________________________________ Violet sat on the couch opposite the front door to her small two bedroom apartment. She was dressed fairly casual for her. She was afraid she might scare Kurtis too much. She wore a beautiful navy blue dress that was tight around her shapely body, which was cinched at the waist. From there, it fell around her hips and down to her knee’s in a sea of ripples and waves. She had painted her face that night, to appear as feminine and female as she possibly could, put on her favourite curly black wigs, and the only pair of nice earrings she owned. To finish the look she added her signature beauty mark and a pair of nude high heels. Fuck, where is Kurtis? Is my only friend standing me up right now? Impatiently tapping her foot, she took out her compact mirror from her matching nude clutch and checked her makeup. As she opened the mirror, she could swear she could see gold in her eyes. Violet blinked, and it was gone. The front door opened, making her jump and she dropped her compact on the floor. She had been staring at the compact for what seemed like forever. “Umm, emo face, look at me so I can take you in” Violet looked up to be greeted by the biggest smile she had ever seen Kurtis wear. He looked like a child on Christmas morning and was grinning like a moron. “I fucking knew it! I knew you were a drag queen!” Violets heart sunk at hearing those words, but she knew what and who she was and she understood the assumption. “Okay, this is going to sound insane, but please hear me out before you say anything else. When I was little, I always loved women, the beauty of them, the glamour, the makeup. Everything. The only thing I didn’t like, was the fact that I didn’t desire to be romantic with them. Anyway, as I grew older, I guess you could say that I started to cross dress. But, I am not a drag queen. At this moment in time, I am Violet Chachki, my pronouns are she and her. I am not Jason Dardo. Do you get it Kurtis?” Violet was begging him to understand. Please understand. “So at this moment in time you are Violet Chachki, my roommate. Okay, sure. Are you ready to go?” He held his hand out for Violet to take. She was stunned. Wow, that was easy. Taking Violet by the hand, Kurtis could have sworn her eyes were golden. Violet looked at Kurtis in a different light. Finally, someone knew. She let Kurtis drive her, as she had no idea where they were even going, and as she looked out of the window, all she could see were stars. _______________________________________ (2011) LA. Spring. Matt sat in the basement. His hands hovering over the keys like they always seemed to these days. For some reason, playing hadn’t felt right lately. The woman performing at the club was the only thing occupying his thoughts recently. Well, not exactly a woman, a drag queen. Upon leaving the club Matt did some research, he found out her name was Violet Chachki, and she performed every first Saturday of the month. He had revisited the club twice since then and she wasn’t there either time, and that really bothered him. How the fuck did she get a hold of my music? What bothered him more, was that it appeared that a woman was the reason he was happily going into a gay nightclub for the first time. This notion often put a smile on his face. How ironic. After a brief period of Googling, Matt couldn’t locate it anywhere. He even searched his own name on Spotify, which was insane to him, but still nothing came up. He was confused. The confusion haunted him. Matt wasn’t really into any local or new music, unless it was Jazz. This made his search even harder. He even resorted to playing it for Siri, unfortunately she didn’t know what was happening. Stupid Phone! City of Stars… something about shining. Fuck! Why can’t I remember her lyrics? Matt sat at his piano and tried to play the song over and over. He had done this every day since that night at the bar, but now he couldn’t even play his favourite song. Fuck my life. He sat there with his eyes closed and thought about Violet. She was quickly becoming his muse, and even though he had only seen her once, her presence caused him to have a warm feeling in his heart. She was the most radiant woman he had ever laid eyes on. Matt still wasn’t convinced she was even a drag queen, maybe she was transgender? This was becoming an obsession. Before Matt realised, he opened his eyes to see his hands moving gracefully across his keys. He hadn’t heard this sound before. He closed his eyes again and let the music take over him. The melody he was playing sounded painfully sad, but beautiful. It sounded, to him, damaged and like it held secrets that wanted to burst open. Matt’s eyes opened suddenly, and all he could see were stars. (2003) New York. Spring. “Dude, what are you doing?” Matt S, or Detox, as Matt liked to call him, stood over Matt with the biggest frown. Matt called Matt S Detox because they were always together, and calling each other Matt just got confusing. Matt couldn’t even remember how Detox came about but it had stuck. “What do you mean what am I doing? I’m taking a picture to send to someone.” Matt held his phone out in front of himself and took a picture. “Eww I look ugly. Should I take my top off?” He looked at Detox with pleading eyes. “Dude, who are you sending a picture too? And definitely take your top off you idiot! If you’re trying to get into someone’s pants, you need to show off the goodies.” Detox wiggled his brows and Matt laughed. “It’s to Courtney, you know, that hot Australian girl that just started. Fuck, she’s hot. Right?” Matt glanced down for approval, but Detox was frowning again. What the hell is up with him? “Courtney? But she has a vagina, I thought you liked…”Just as Detox went to continue his sentence Matt ran to his bedroom door and closed it shut. “Dude, shut up! My dad is downstairs and you know what he is like…” he said in a hushed tone. “I actually find Courtney attractive, like, I want to fuck her. Is that…weird? Maybe I’m not… Like you?” Matt didn’t know how he expected Detox to react. But Detox just smiled. “Matt, you can like whoever you want. I will take that part of you that we shared all those years ago to the grave. But I will always be your friend no matter who you like, and no matter how much your dad hurts you… Understand?” Detox took the phone from Matt and moved to the other side of the room. “Now let’s take a cute picture before your dad comes up here, see’s you half naked and tries to kill me for corrupting your 16 year old mind?” A goofy smile began spreading across Matt’s face. Detox took a few snaps of him before he chose one to send to Courtney. He pulled his shirt back on and sat in front of the mirror. “Ask me a truth Detox, like we are playing truth or dare” Matt looked serious. Detox decided to play along. “What is your sexual orientation?” Detox looked him dead in the eye. Matt looked back at him in the mirror. “I just like sexy people, male, female, or anything in between. Google might be able to define it but I can’t, yet.” Matt felt like a weight had been lifted as he looked at his friend in the mirror. “Give me a dare bitch.” He grinned. “I dare you to get your septum pierced!” Detox starting laughing, he knew how much Matt wanted him to dare him to get a tattoo. He looked shaken. Detox grabbed Matt and pushed him out of his bedroom door and down the stairs. Matt looked to where his dad was sitting on the sofa, beer in hand. He rolled his eyes, grabbed his keys and his wallet, and left the house. Fucking waster. An hour or so later, he sat in the chair at the piercing parlour in Brooklyn. He had a needle going through his nose, and all he could see were some very blurry stars.

(2011) LA. Spring.

Matt had work tonight. He was playing at some fancy benefit in a more residential area of LA. He still hadn’t ended things with her as she had been filming in Europe for the past two months, and wasn’t due home for a while. He knew that the benefit was for a make-up company, but apart from that he didn’t know much about it. Willam was going, as he had worked with the make-up company before. Matt found it humouring that it was supposed to be a fancy party and Willam had been invited. Willam was anything but fancy. Matt wore a dark grey pinstripe suit, white shirt, his violet pocket square, and matching tie. He had really warmed to these two items over the past couple of months, although he had no idea why. He also kept his glasses on. Pulling up to the house, he got out and gave his keys to the valet for parking. He moved through the house and soon spotted one of the organisers and took the opportunity to ask them where he was to be stationed for the night. The hostess led him over to the most beautiful large white grand piano. Matt sat and took in his surroundings. He was in an expanse of open plan living space. Wow, and I thought Courtney and I had a nice place. Matt had arrived early as he was being paid to be there. As no guests had really arrived yet, he decided to take a walk around to familiarise himself with the place. He noted the location of the toilets, and more importantly, the smoking area. Matt returned and started to play. The hostess came to discuss the kind of music that should be played throughout the night. The hostess was fairly open to what Matt played which he loved. The hostess’ only request was ‘nothing too harsh’ as it would ruin the vibe of the benefit. Some people had started to arrive, so Matt took out his tip beanie and swapped it for the posh looking glass jar that had been placed there. Matt got lost in his own music and all he could see were stars. _______________________________________ Kurtis had his hand at the small of Violets back as he led her through the party. He introduced her as a long-time friend of his and Patricks’. She smiled at Kurtis and silently thanked him for accepting her. Violet mingled at the front of the party, and if anybody suspected anything about her, they didn’t say anything. Soon, Kurtis left Violets side to network, which she completely understood. She conversed with many different people at the party, and loved it, especially when they complimented her on her appearance. She felt stunning and beautiful. Violet was chatting outside near the smoking area when she heard a voice that jolted her. “I can clock a wig from a half mile away that is definitely a pig in a wig.” Her blood ran cold and she turned around to see Willam, a really well known drag queen in Hollywood, and whom she assumed, was Willam’s date or friend, staring straight at her. Violet didn’t quite know what to do, so she excused herself from the people whom she was chatting to and made her way inside to find Kurtis. As she made her way around the side of the building she stopped. A shiver move up her spine. That same shiver she felt a few months back. Breathe in. Breathe out. Am I cold? Shaking it off, she continued to move around the building, but as she moved the shiver grew, intensifying with each step. It was now lingering on her shoulders all the way down to her fingertips. Then, she heard it. Violet could hear the most beautiful sound coming from a piano just inside the building. It however, wasn’t just any sound. It was her mother’s melody. The music she had randomly found on Spotify a couple of years ago under the name ‘One of 3 A’s’ and could never explain. She had Googled the band and could never find any results. It was saved to her playlist and she just assumed her mum had loved that song and had just told Violet it was her own. Nobody had ever heard of this artist before and now they were possibly playing in the next room, or, at least someone who was a fan of her same weird obscure taste in music. Holy fuck. She braced herself and walked into the room and stood to the side of the pianist. Her entire upper body was burning, so was her throat. And all she could see was one, single, star. _______________________________________ Matt hadn’t been playing long before Willam decided to come over and make a few comments about his mad skills with his fingers. He just smiled politely at his friend and tried to remain as professional and focused as he possibly could. He had a small crowd around the piano, chatting, sipping on wine and conversing about make-up. Matt didn’t really have a clue when it came to make-up, but he was enjoying the tips. He also didn’t really have a clue what he was playing, but the hostess had been eye-fucking him the entire night so it must have been good. Matt didn’t even realise he had started to play his tune until he felt that warmth in his heart again. This was the first time he had been able to play it in months and he smiled to himself. Apparently I have got my mojo back. As he glanced up at the people watching him, he felt like an explosion went off in his brain. His chest had never felt warmer, as he saw none other than the woman who had plagued his fantasies for the past 2 months staring right back at him, mouthing those lyrics that he had tried too hard to remember with those beautiful golden flecks in her eyes. Matt hadn’t smiled like this in years, and all he could see was one, single, star.

#pearlet #pearl liaison #violet chachki #miss fame #famelet #adore delano #viadore #detox icunt #willam belli #fluff #romance #city of stars #leatwerpenn #rpdr fanfiction #submission #la la land au #m/m au

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mhsn033 · 4 years

Text

Jordan and Perri: Kiss breakfast hosts on ‘stepping into huge shoes’

Image copyright Marco Vittur

Image caption For the length of lockdown, Perri Kiely (left) and Jordan Banjo offered their weekend show from house

The original hosts of the Kiss breakfast show signify Range in further programs than one.

Jordan Banjo and Perri Kiely are becoming a member of the enviornment of 4am alarms and triple espressos more than a decade after finding reputation as section of Range, the dance team who won Britain’s Received Skill in 2009.

Nonetheless the pair are furthermore starting their original presenting gig at a time when the radio industry is asking itself questions about enhance racial range both on and off air.

The double which intention, or no longer it’s stunning to relate, infrequently causes confusion.

“It be amusing, at any time when somebody asks how we can look more range, I’m devour, ‘Successfully, we’re occurring tour’,” laughs Jordan. “The word staunch has completely different which technique to me.”

The duo could well maybe be taking up the R&B and dance keep’s most prestigious slot, nonetheless this is no longer a rushed response to the Murky Lives Topic high-tail. The pair hold been hosting a weekend show on Kiss for the closing 18 months.

“I grew up listening to Kiss, and that is the reason no longer an exaggeration. Genuinely, that’s what I knew,” says Jordan. “I obviously endure in mind listening to Rickie, Melvin and Charlie.

Image caption Jordan Banjo says he grew up listening to extinct Kiss breakfast hosts Rickie, Melvin and Charlie

“And it appears to be like so queer to hold started on the keep a one year-and-a-half of within the past and be going in such elephantine footwear. Nonetheless I accept as true with me and Pel are outmoded to challenges, in every side of what we enact.”

Rickie, Melvin and Charlie hosted Kiss breakfast for 10 years, finally leaving for BBC Radio 1 in 2018. Tom Green and Daisy Maskell hold been presenting since their departure.

Jordan and Perri will be hoping to entice listeners to a original generation of Kiss breakfast with their natural chemistry – one thing that could well maybe be laborious to create on TV and radio.

The Chris Evans generation of Top Gear and the pairing of Simon Mayo and Jo Whiley on Radio 2 show how laborious it could maybe in point of fact maybe maybe be to receive the steadiness between presenters correct.

Nonetheless Jordan and Perri knew every other increasing up, and hold worked collectively in Range for properly over a decade. Their instinctive knowledge of whose flip it is to talk or what the opposite is set to relate is a obvious revenue.

“We’re literally simplest friends, nonetheless I don’t indubitably feel devour we receive in front of a digicam or within the help of the mic after which substitute,” notes Perri. “I indubitably feel devour it is literally staunch us. The motive I indubitably feel devour it comes at some stage in so naturally is due to this of it is so natural.

“The 2d we inventory out a job, we potentially scurry house within the an identical automotive, I potentially scurry to Jordan’s condominium, we scurry to the studio and prepare, or no longer it is no longer always devour we inventory out work after which scurry our separate programs. We have always lived that components.”

The pair hold beforehand fronted several TV and radio reveals – both collectively and aside. Jordan’s credits embrace co-hosting BBC One’s The Excellent Dancer with Alesha Dixon, which is nominated for a Bafta this weekend.

Furthermore, they’ve every been contestants on diverse reality or abilities reveals – with Perri significantly ending 2d on Dancing on Ice earlier this one year.

Image copyright Getty Pictures

Image caption Perri pictured in 2009 with Range, and in 2019 on the Dancing on Ice open

Nonetheless even with journey and rapport, increasing a show’s listenership is no longer any easy activity. Radio has a routine target audience, with breakfast reveals constructed into the morning routine of hundreds of hundreds. It could maybe maybe maybe be laborious to tempt listeners to swap stations.

Added to which, listening figures for Kiss breakfast hold dropped currently. Rickie, Melvin and Charlie attracted 2.09m listeners in their closing three months (per industry body Rajar), nonetheless that has fallen within the latest quarter to 1.4m.

It all provides further tension on Jordan and Perri to receive things support up to earlier ranges. Nonetheless, Jordan says: “I don’t say we landed the job for that reason of they want us to have confidence the Rajars. We scurry on there, we’re staunch ourselves, and we hold now simplest ever had certain feedback almost about our show.

“We’re no longer going to high-tail on there as radio consultants, we started a pair of years within the past, and that’s what it is. What we can raise is our chemistry, our friendship and hope americans can expose to that. So I accept as true with for me and Pel, to be stricken or anxious or one thing devour that, all that will enact is hinder our job.”

‘Radical changes’

Roy Martin, the managing editor of the leading industry web sites Radio This day, notes that the pair’s allure to young audiences could well maybe be staunch what Kiss needs.

“Launching a original breakfast show is by no intention a straightforward activity – listeners don’t devour substitute so the programme needs to be of indispensable dissimilarity to pull a better crowd,” he tells BBC News. “And this one is completely completely different from Tom and Daisy.

“Having Jordan Banjo and Perri Kiely head up the breakfast show on a nationwide ‘formative years’ keep is a vivid high-tail for Kiss and one who could well maybe seemingly put successful within the lengthy urge.”

Perri in explicit could well maybe be instrumental in attracting youthful listeners. The 24-one year-aged has constructed a tall following on TikTok, where he within the meanwhile has 1.4m followers.

Image caption Jordan has beforehand co-hosted BBC One’s The Excellent Dancer with Alesha Dixon

Their transition to breakfast radio follows a fashioned high-tail in media to make stronger ethnic minority representation, following the Murky Lives Topic high-tail.

“I will’t talk for the industry in its entirety, nonetheless obviously we’re heavily linked with Bauer [parent company of Kiss],” says Jordan, “and when the Murky Lives Topic high-tail got here support into the spotlight, I could maybe no longer say one thing else as adversarial to how proud I become as soon as.”

He explains management encouraged all team to talk openly about how they felt internal the gap of labor. “And it wasn’t staunch applying to me and Pel for that reason of we’re combined drag or shaded presenters, there is a full host of americans at Kiss and each person become as soon as speaking up.

“Bauer are doing so vital, whether it be with practising functions or working with charities. It be easy to relate more needs to be accomplished… nonetheless I indubitably feel devour or no longer it’s furthermore correct to acknowledge within the meanwhile that of us are doing stuff. Folks are making radical changes, and that is the reason one thing to be pleased about.”

Perri points out: “The entire keep is influenced by shaded culture, and each person takes so vital inspiration from it. I’m excited staunch to raise on and focus on it and never indubitably feel devour we’re doing one thing adversarial. Now more than ever, or no longer it is a time to indubitably show those who it is no longer always staunch a pattern.”

Image copyright Marco Vittur

Obviously, the difficulty that faces all breakfast presenters is waking up ridiculously early – the breakfast show begins at 6am. Nonetheless, Jordan points out, having formative years has ready him properly for the early begins.

“If I look one thing else previous half of 5 I’m devour, ‘Oh my gosh, here’s a lay-in’,” he says. “For this, we’ll potentially must be leaving the condominium about 4am, for that reason of me and Pel both are residing rather a long way out of central London.”

“I will’t lie, I’m relatively horrified for it,” says Perri. ” what’s scaring me? Obviously radio is no longer our simplest job, we’re level-headed section of Range, and there is so many cases as soon as I will be working indubitably late nights with Ash [Ashley Banjo, Diversity creator], working on the show and choreographing, and we don’t even scurry house some nights.”

That’s no longer a sing for Jordan, nonetheless, who notes: “Essentially the most attention-grabbing time I take care of up later than 9pm is if Look after Island is on.”

Kiss Breakfast with Jordan and Perri launches on Monday, 3 August.

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jamiesuniblog-blog · 7 years

Text

Student Journal (Assignment 2)

End of Week 1

For my first week at Amnplify, I straightaway got into the action and had a live review. The first one was Gordi at the Thousand Pound Bend in Melbourne. This venue was like entering an episode of Pretty Little Liars. It was a dark, mystic shed with a few lights that created a dark, mysterious atmosphere. Gordi took to the stage with a small crowd of around 200 and the mood was electric. The hollow shed absolutely complemented her vocals and it was such a special gig to be a part of. I felt like I wasn’t even working because I knew exactly how I was going to write my review for the show. It was so effortless as I felt so much passion in my task of writing the review.

I also had a single review this week for Demi Lovato’s new single Sorry Not Sorry. Being a massive fan I just had to cover her comeback and once again I absolutely smashed my review as I felt like I could write with such confidence and ease.

I think the hardest part about this week was watching the tutorial video on how to edit and post our reviews for the website before they went live. It took a few hours to wrap my head around the editing aspect of it but once I got the hang of it all, everything was pretty straightforward.

End of Week 2

This week I had an interview with artist TESHA on her new EP release. I had to send a set of fifteen questions to her team and they would eventually email me back with TESHA’s answers. The response was surprisingly super quick. The responses to my questions stunned me as they were so in depth and descriptive which is not what I expected. It was such a cool experience having that communication with an artist and getting a deeper insight into the meaning of their music. Writing up the review was pretty simple as it was pretty much my questions and her answers.

This week I also had a single review for Selena Gomez’s new track Fetish featuring Gucci Mane. It was fun to write up this review as the music video had come out at the same time so I was able to show more understanding and express a stronger opinion for the review.

What I learnt this week was not to be so afraid of trying something different. I was quite nervous about doing the interview with TESHA because I wasn’t sure if my questions were going to be good or interesting enough as I wasn’t really sure what was the ‘appropriate’ thing to ask. However, everything ran so smoothly and the experience was amazing.

End of Week 3

This week I got to go and do another live review. I went and saw Brightness at the Yah Yah’s in Melbourne. This experience was completely different compared to the Gordi experience in week 1. This venue was at the top of a bar and the crowd was a bit lifeless and dull bringing in around 50 people. The music was really hard to hear, as the speakers weren’t really that clear and it was quite easy to become distracted. When I went to go write this review I had to speak with my boss and emphasise the fact that I felt like I couldn’t really write anything positive about it, as I didn’t find the gig enjoyable. I learnt a really valuable lesson from him that sometimes you just have to push through and do with what you’ve got. My boss helped me tremendously in structuring this particular review.

I also had a single review for Louis Tomlinson for his first solo track Back To You featuring Bebe Rexha. As I absolutely fell in love with this song, I was able to write another passionate review that I felt was really bold in expressing my opinion.

All in all, a interesting and valuable week as I learnt not every review I write is going to be easy but it’s worth the risk to step out of my comfort zone and experience something that is not within my normality.

End of Week 4

This week I was reviewing Little Mix’s concert at Margaret Court Arena in Melbourne. Reviewing a venue that is quite large compared to the small gigs that I have attended so far, it was such a different experience when it came to writing the review. There were so many more aspects to write about such as the staging, the merchandise, the fandom, the mosh pit, the screens, the outfits, the lighting and so on.

Click here for Little Mix review

Later in the week I also reviewed Julia Michaels’ EP release Nervous System. It was such an incredible ride writing about an album this time, as I was able to write about the journey it took me on and the story between each track on the EP.

The hardest thing about this week was the length of my reviews and the extra amount of time it took due to the concert being long, as well as the EP review being my first non-single review. I also had a performance review with my boss and we went over a few editing tips that he thought I could benefit from. He gave me some really good constructive criticism that I felt was really going to help make my reviews more solid and professional.

End of Week 5

This week was such an entertaining week. Charli XCX dropped a music video for her single Boys and I was over the moon that I had the opportunity to write about it as it featured so many male celebrities within the video. It was so pleasing to review and I felt like with the performance review the week before, I was really getting into the swing of making my reviews look and sound a whole lot better.

Later in the week I also had another single review for Zara Larrson’s single Only You. It was quite a different experience writing about a song that is more of a ballad as the way you express yourself involves a more vulnerable tone that my previous reviews. I was learning a lot about my feelings and emotions towards the music I was hearing which I believe was making me a much stronger journalist.

Then towards the end of the week Camila Cabello dropped her double feature singles OMG and Havana and I just had to review them. It was once again a whole difference experience writing about two singles in the one review, as I had to connect the meaning of the songs and really understand what I was conveying in my writing.

I think what I learnt the most this week was that it’s okay to show a little more vulnerability in my work and not rely so much on all the upbeat kind of work as that’s what my main focus was on weekly. I had such a versatile range of artists and reviews to write that I loved having a sense of diversity to work with.

End of Week 6

This week was the first week I was going to write a whole album review. I listened to Kesha’s comeback album Rainbow the day it dropped and had fourteen songs to write about. Thinking it was going to be an enormous challenge, structuring the review was probably the most difficult part where as writing the actual review flowed so effortlessly. I learnt that writing a review for an album was similar to telling a story, you explain and respond to the different chapters, however they all link together and give you one big picture at the end.

Click here for Kesha review

This week I also had a single review for Justin Bieber’s track Friends with Bloodpop. It was such a drastic change from writing the Kesha review as the sound was completely different and it gave me a good opportunity to once again show some diversity in the work I was doing.

This week I learnt to trust my instincts. When it came to writing the album review I was a little bit scared to be completely honest. However, it really is a piece of art that you’re writing about and there isn’t really a right or wrong answer. I also learnt some new editing tips as album reviews include my images and quotes throughout the final reviews.

End of Week 7

This week I wrote another album review for Australian artist Citizen Kay. As his style of music is the complete opposite of what I usually listen to, I found a new appreciation for his type of genre as I really listened to the words and was able to write a review that was really in depth and meaningful.

I also had a single review for CNCO and Little Mix’s collaboration Reggaeton Lento (Remix). This was such an awesome review to write about, as half the song is sang in Spanish so I had to really rely on the instrumental and the beat of the track to empahsise the way I felt or thought about the song.

This week I was also introduced to a new task which was doing news for the website. Basically in entails picking any media release or promotional content that is sent to our company and editing it for our own website and posting it. The process of this was quite similar to writing a review as the editing aspect was exactly the same. However, instead of writing your own review for a post, you use promotional information for the artist to create the post, which is a lot less time consuming.

I had a lot of fun this week learning about new tasks for the company and performing them. Although I absolutely love writing reviews, it was a nice change to try something different and expose myself to a little bit more of the organisations processes. My boss was extremely helpful in making sure I was comfortable and had enough knowledge to perform the new tasks.

End of Week 8

This week I had Fifth Harmony’s new album Fifth Harmony to review. I straight away learnt that there’s a difference between writing a review for an artist you love compared to an artist who may just seem like another work tasks. You feel like you owe your opinion and honest thoughts to the artist you love, where as if you don’t follow their career or music, you don’t feel the passion in your work explode as heavily. Although I put one hundred percent into every review I do, I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say the feeling is different between each review.

This week I also did a review for Taylor Swift’s comeback single Look What You Made Me Do. This was an extremely fun review to write about as the music video had received so much media attention. It gave me a really good opportunity to write about my side of the track and what I believe the messages are. I also continued with a few media releases for the news section of the website.

Click here for Taylor Swift review

This week I felt really comfortable in achieving my weekly goals. I had another performance review with my boss and he just went over a few editing tips once again for the news section side of my tasks, where as he believed my reviews were edited to perfection. He was also expressing the fact that he was extremely happy with the way that I was writing and creating my work. I was really getting the hang of things and felt like I was fitting really nicely into the company.

End of Week 9

This week I had a live review for Ariana Grande at Rod Laver Arena in Melbourne. This concert was so exceptional that I couldn’t wait to write about my experience. Each performance Ariana had showed one hundred percent effort and dedication and you couldn’t help but sing and dance along to every track. My review was probably the best review I believe I had written for the company. It was so natural to write and I feel like I really understood the concept of writing professionally now.

I also had a single review for ZAYN’s single Dusk Till Dawn featuring Sia. Once again, this was probably the best single review I had written for the company. I was so passionate and lost in writing this review as I really resonated with the song.

I was really learning to express all my emotions and pour it into my journalism, as I was so proud of the work I was achieving and the new skills I was learning along the way. Along with writing more for the news section this week, I really started to feel like a working man as if this was my life after university.

End of Week 10

For my last week, I finished off with a few single reviews. I did a review for Lorde’s remix to Homemade Dynamite featuring Post Malone, SZA and Khalid. It was such an interesting review to write because I had to incorporate the different perspectives within the track as there were four different artists singing on it.

I also wrote a review for Post Malone’s new single Rockstar featuring 21 Savage. As he was featured in the Lorde track I reviewed earlier in the week, it was kind of weird writing about the same artist but in a different light as his performance in each track was completely different. I had to learn to make sure that I wasn’t changing my tone on who I believed Post Malone was as an artist as I didn’t want to show two different opinions in the two reviews which could come across as non-researched and unprofessional.

Wrapping up my last week, I continued with my work for the news section along the days. It was nice and chill to finish off my last week with a workload that wasn’t as intense as previous weeks. I felt like the most important thing I learnt after working for Amnplify for ten weeks was that I was getting really comfortable with whatever was thrown my way. My writing skills had improved drastically, my editing and software skills had improved drastically, and more importantly, my media skills journalism was at a completely different level now.

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