He's explaining it to you

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 7: you matter to me (the terrifying tales of the grimm monarchy)

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Mr. and Mrs. Grimm’s A+ parenting, panic attacks, unconventional sibling problems/dynamics, very brief disappearance (If I miss something please tell me!)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please ask!! All feedback is very welcomed, I didn’t have anyone to beta so *sighs loudly*. This chapter is kinda angsty and opens up some fun new plot relevant strings. I also want to make it clear that I will be demonstrating Roman putting in work to fix his mess ups in later chapters as well! He’s got some loose ends to tie up, and he will do so. 

Pairings: Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Creativitwins

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @im-actually-ok @hauntedturkeycalzonedreamer @croftersjam15 @rainbowsixth @snaketho @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @a-soul-among-the-stars @sweet-razz-tea @the-cactus-lord @genderlessfish

Janus’ eyes move to Logan, they seem to communicate without a breath between them. Logan takes nothing but his phone with him when he heads into the hall, but it’s far too late. Remus is nowhere in sight.

Roman takes a shuddering sigh, places his head in his hands, and leans against the makeup counter.

“I’m-I’m sorry-I don’t-I don’t know what that was-”

“Yes, you do.”

The room feels so uncomfortable, the tension could be cut with a knife. Roman knows Janus well enough to know his glare cuts sharper than any weapon could ever. Especially to him. His face stays firmly planted in his hands, hiding from the truth he’s been avoiding for far too long.

“Roman, look at me,” Janus orders. 

He listens and keels back in shame at the look of anger and disappointment on his friend’s face.

“Tell me the truth, why are you doing this?”

It’s a good question. For all it’s worth though, he doesn’t know. Which seems like the cop-out of the century, but truly...he has no clue at the moment. That, however, is not an answer Janus will accept and not one he will accept of himself. 

With a deep breath, he thinks “Alright, Roman. Be honest. Why are you doing this?”

Within moments he gets it and it is the easiest conclusion he’s ever come to. The twins have always had a very sturdy dichotomy. Remus was a messy and wild child growing up, while Roman was clean and polite. When they played, there was always a good and just prince and an evil conniving duke. There were good marks and bad marks. Good ideas and bad ideas. Clean and messy. Good and evil. Something nice and something terrible. Even in the eyes of their parents. It didn’t matter to them as children, Remus even seemed to enjoy it on occasion. Looking back, he only ever liked being “bad” when he got to choose it. When they played in their yard and there was a choice between swimming in the pool and scooping water onto the grass to “drown the bugs”, he was the happiest child in the universe. When the school called their father and told him that Remus had been in another fight, he looked like someone had ripped his soul from his body. It didn’t matter the reason he was fighting, he was “bad”. Roman had always thought the merit of the fight was dictated by why you were fighting in the first place, but apparently, he was wrong. 

The dichotomy they played into was fun! It was! For a while, at least. Then Roman began being berated by everyone around him for acting similarly to his brother. Then Remus was the new social outcast months before they hit middle school. Then it wasn’t fun anymore. Being “good” was stressful and lonely. Teachers, classmates, friends, family, everyone equated “good” with perfect. Perfection is a hard burden to bear alone and twelve years old. Roman’s mind drifts to when they split up. When the dichotomy became less of a two-person game played for fun, and more of an ugly sweater from an aunt that they had to wear to every formal event. It was hard, it was always much too hard. It hurt him. Recently, he realized the much heavier burden of being “bad”. The stress and loneliness must be tenfold when everyone beats into your brain that you are the perfect example of the “Evil Twin” trope. Even your own brother. Your twin. 

“Everyone told me,”

They had been a pair once.

“‘Roman, you’re such a good kid, you’re good at everything.’”

They were a good pair. Even now. He’d worked with him just a month ago to put something together and it was amazing.

“‘There is nothing you can’t do!’”

A few months ago, he was doing something he hadn’t thought possible and making amends with his brother.

“To them, I was independent and self-sufficient,”

He wasn’t either of those things, not then and not now. He had always been a pair.

“I was perfect. I had to be.”

The catch is that he gave up the only person who didn’t care if he was perfect.

“I thought it was true, I-”

The catch is that now his actions dawn on him fully like a wave over the shore.

“I needed them to be right.”

His breath shakes, “Who am I if I’m not that?”

The wave of grief and guilt crashes into him, and all he can think about now is how much he wants to take back every single mean thing he’s ever said about his brother. He feels the sea of emotions that he’s held back take him in and drown him with ferocity. Janus sighs as Roman stares at him through watery eyes.

“Roman. You were doing so well with Remus.”

He’s right, Janus is always right about these things. Two months ago, he had been doing so much better. He and Remus were still bickering in public, but it was fun to him. Though when Remus had “glue-and-feather’d” his makeup bag, he had thrown a little fit, he laughed about it later. Remus had laughed with him. It was light and fun. May, June, and most of July were the most fun he’d had with Remus in years. They’d spent time together, helped each other with chores, ridden to the theatre together. Little, minuscule things. Things that made such a tremendous difference in Roman’s confidence. 

“What happened?”

The same thing that always happened. His mother came home

There was always something different about his mother. When he and Remus had befriended Janus in elementary school, they met someone else's mother for the first time. He realized the day he had met her what made his mom so different. Lillian Devine, or as they called her Mrs.Lilli, was quite possibly the strangest woman they had ever met. The first time they saw her, Janus had seen her outside the school and made a beeline for his mother’s arms. She took him up into her arms, gave him a spin, and hugged him tightly. Roman doesn’t remember much from being that young, but he can remember the first moment he felt jealousy was when Lillian took Janus into that hug and loudly announced that she missed him. Only gone a day at school, and she missed him enough to announce it to the world. He remembers going home to a very big, very empty house. He was grumpy, clutching Remus’ hand like a lifeline as their nanny ushered them into their room and told them she would collect them at dinner time. When she collected them, Roman asked if she had missed them. She said, “I’m not your mother, am I?”.

His mother was different. When she came home, she would offer Roman a hug and give him a big kiss on the cheek. Every time, even the most recent. Like clockwork. Roman, sometimes accompanied by Remus, would wait outside the door for his mother’s car to arrive. She would exit and her heels would clack along the stone pathway. She would kiss him on the cheek when she got up the steps, offer him a quick hug, then begin to speak about her latest adventures in Paris. If Remus stood with him, she would give him her coat. Roman would always take it from him, hang it up, and follow his mother wherever she went. Recently the thought of their mother handing Remus her coat made Roman want to puke. 

They’d had dinner together one night in July. On her most recent visit, she told stories of her new revolutionary fashion line. He told her all about the newest theatre show. Remus made an effort to sit with them, and it was a labour for Roman to look at his mother when he spoke instead of Remus. He was there for all his anecdotes but he would still hang off of every word just to find something to prod at. Remus stood, and his mother’s words echoed in his brain.

“Remus, dear,” His mother begins in her shrill voice, “If you’re not going to eat with us, at least go and shower. Your smell is unbecoming.”

He latches onto that conversation, that’s really when the downfall started. 

“Mother, that was quite rude…” He says softly, keeping his eyes on his plate.

“Sometimes you have to tell the truth, my darling.” She laughs then, and Roman wants more than anything to get up and chase his brother.

“Speaking of your theatre production,” He turns his attention back to her, “Your father is thinking of coming this year.”

All thoughts of defending his brother leave his brain entirely. His mouth dries and he feels the onset of excitement and pure panic. At that moment he is consumed by selfishness and tries to push away the panic and think only of this dream come true. 

“He’ll be happy to hear you got the lead again,”

“But Mother, I told you, I’m only-”

“Yes, the understudy. You’ll change that, won’t you, my darling? I didn’t raise you to get second place, did I?”

He was good. What he was doing was good. He couldn’t disappoint his mother, let alone his father. Truth be told, he barely even spoke to the man except for their short and brief calls on the major holidays. He hadn’t seen him in person in nearly two years. He’d outgrown the excuse of him being busy but hadn’t outgrown the fire that a visit from his father lights inside him. It became even worse when after two feeble attempts to be rid of Logan, his father called him. Unprompted, unscheduled, and entirely without cause. He buzzed when he picked up the phone. 

“Roman.”

“Hello, father.” He can barely contain the happiness buzzing around in his throat.

“I have made time in my schedule to come to see your stage performance at the request of your mother. She has told me you landed the lead role again, I can’t say I’m not impressed. This is the sixth year in a row she has asked me, you know. I hope there is some merit to your casting director’s choice.”

He can barely keep himself sat down, the urge to jump around is so intense that he nearly dies. “Oh, certainly! I won’t let you down! Oh! And neither will Remus, he’s entirely spectacular in his role this year, I really think you’ll love-”

“I am not attending this production to see your brother. I trust you won’t let me down, because unlike him, you are not a failure. I will see you then, goodbye.”

In one fell swoop, his father had crushed his mood and strengthened his resolve. 

“My father is coming to the production. He called me himself to confirm.”

“The man who talks to you on average thirty minutes a year is coming to our show? Please tell me you’re joking.” The shock is evident in Janus’ voice as he searches Roman’s face desperately to ensure he’s lying.

“I’m not. My mother, she-she told him I got the lead. He told me-He told me that he was impressed with my track record. Then I-Well I started talking about Remus’ spectacular performance and he...He said he wasn’t coming to see Remus and that I-” Roman is on the verge of tears, he feels the urge to crumble like a war-torn kingdom.

Janus places a hand on his shoulder, meant to be a comfort, “That you what?”

Tears track down Roman’s face as he sits and slumps over to physically display his guilt, “That I’m not a failure like him, so I won’t let him down.”

“I am internalizing so much anger at the moment, please give me a second.” Janus takes a deep breath and screams angrily out loud. Roman takes it as initiative and screams as well, but much more wet and sad. 

Janus pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 

“You didn’t think to tell anyone any of this?” Roman shakes his head and sniffles.

Janus mutters to himself, “Right. Of course, you didn’t. You fool.” 

“We all know you’re not an absolute prick Roman. You’d obviously just pick on Logan for no reason you’re totally not super stressed or something.” He recoils at that, Janus’ face falls.

“I’m just-Roman-You can talk to me,” Janus speaks with an air entirely too soft for him.

What gets Roman’s attention is the tired and slightly sad, “Lord knows that neither of you does enough.”

“I’m here for you, even if you do some very morally shifty things. Especially if it’s all because you’re all stressed out and your daddy issues are taking centre stage in your mind.” He sits beside him now, taking Roman’s hand in his.

“I know how passionate you are, and I can tell that this isn’t how you want to do it. So, you don’t have to. You have...lots of things to make up for and apologize for. But there is still time. As long as you mean it, and you want to do better.”

Weakly, he mutters “I do.”

“Then find a way to apologize and fix it the way you always do.”

“And what way is that?” He asks with a soft smile, to which Janus chuckles under his breath.

“Facing every and all challenges with courage and honesty. Obviously,” Janus raises a thumb and wipes the tears from Roman’s cheeks with a genuine smile. 

So it was settled then. Roman needed to apologize. To everyone. He was already thinking of ways to express his sorrow and regret properly, his brilliant brain spitting out lavish and somewhat laborious ideas. Janus can tell from the way the passionate light returns to his eyes and he smiles. There is work to be done. 

The door slams open and an entirely too panicked Virgil stands in the doorway, “Janus-”

Work to be done later. Virgil’s breath is coming in whooping waves, his body is shaking, makeup smudged from anxious tears rolling down his face. Janus moves with purpose, approaching Virgil like a particularly protective guardian. Virgil grabs the fabric of his hoodie and tries to breathe.

“That’s it, Virgil, you’re alright,” He coos, gently placing a hand on his head.

“We can’t-” Virgil speech is messy and laboured, “We-We can’t find Remus-He’s-He’s not picking up his phone-I’m-We-”

Roman’s blood runs cold. Remus has done this before, sure. But it’s always been silly and fun and not motivated by weeks worth of stress and terrible feelings. Roman knows his words were the cherry on the cake, and nearly slaps himself for still being sat there while his brother was who knows where.

Roman grabs Remus’ bag from the floor, opening it to find his phone. There are almost fifty missed messages, most of them from a contact labelled “The Sexy Kind Of Spider” who he can only assume is Virgil. 

“His phone’s still here,” He sifts through the bag some more, “Along with his jacket and his car keys.” 

“Well, I’d say he can’t have gone far, but we all know how crafty Remus is,” Janus says with a drained expression on his face which only inspires Virgil to clutch his shirt even tighter.

There’s a fire in Roman now, an urge to find his brother’s newest hiding spot and somehow make it up to him. He slings the bag over his shoulder and approaches the pair.

“No need to fear, Virge! I’ll find Remus and bring him back to us as quickly as I can!”

Virgil only nods in response, prompting Janus to gently ruffle his hair. Roman leaves, knowing that the Virgil situation is in very capable hands. On to finding his brother. 

He sends a quick text to Thomas debriefing the situation, playing it off as a “typical Remus situation”, and leaves the building. If Remus had been outside the theatre, he certainly wasn’t anymore. Potentially unfortunately from Roman, a certain nerd was out there looking instead. When they made eye contact, Logan approached. He looked...frazzled. Much more so than Roman had ever seen. 

“There you are. I was wondering when you would come help. Remus is missing and hasn’t answered his phone.”

“He left it here, but I’m going to go and look for him.” 

Logan mutters something under his breath about the inefficiency of something-or-other, but Roman does not have the time to care. Him and Logan talk for another minute, Logan even gives him his number to call when he finds him. Logan says he’s going to get more people to look, Roman only nods. He’s focused in, there’s hope for a new start still and he’ll be damned if he loses it to Remus randomly disappearing forever. He piles into his car with Remus’ bag and starts his search.

Hope turns to fear after the third hour with no signs of his brother. He had checked his house, all the old spots Remus used to love, their whole neighbourhood, Janus’ house, every department store near the theatre. Nothing. It was like a magician cast a spell to make his brother disappear. He’s on the verge of panic. His hands are shaking like a bitch and his breathing wavers with each word he mutters to himself to ease his anxiety. He has to pull over into the parking lot of the convenience store near his home. It wouldn’t be safe for him to drive anywhere anymore. He wonders for a moment how in the hell his brother disappeared so quickly. He only had about thirty minutes on foot ahead of them, how had nobody found him? He almost cries sitting at the wheel. What if he’d been kidnapped? Murdered? Taken for ransom? Wait, that’s the same as kidnapping, isn’t it? God, it didn’t matter now! His brother was gone. For nearly ten minutes he lets the situation hit him hard. Tears roll through his body and he sobs. If Remus was gone forever, what would he do? What could he do? 

A worker from the store comes out from the front. They see Roman and Roman sees them. Roman couldn’t care less that they now look incredibly uncomfortable. They move to the back of the store and from Roman can see, they’re talking to someone. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know why he’s watching. He’s still crying like a baby. The thought of having lost his brother to the universe is still making his head pound. The worker gives whoever they’re talking to a smile, walks back inside the store, and from the till inside they give Roman a reassuring smile as well. He gives them a thumbs up. He takes a deep breath. He needs to pull himself together and find-

When Remus turns the corner from behind the store, Roman goes for the door handle before he can think. The sight of his shivering, tear-stained, obviously upset brother has him moving. He rips the door open and scrambles out. He trips over the edge of the car door and it doesn’t even matter. His palms and knees scrape against the concrete, ripping the skin on his hands and hurting his knees. He doesn’t care. It stings and he doesn’t care. The second he’s on his feet again he bolts at Remus and throws his arms around his chest. His head is firmly locked between Remus’ neck and shoulder, he’s grabbing at his shirt like a lifeline. His breathing is erratic, the tears are back now and back with a vengeance. His knees are shaking. He hadn’t even recognized how terribly and horribly scared of losing his brother he even was. Feeling it now was like the first breath of autumn air in your summer lungs. Remus stands there, just stands there. For a moment, the buzzing of his mind recognizes someone saying his name. Then there are arms around him. He’s being squeezed within an inch of his life. He doesn’t mind. He will never mind again. 

All Roman’s scared voice can squeak out is a loud and cracking, “I’m sorry!”

They stand together in the chilly late-august afternoon air, in full sight of any neighbours or employees at the store, for five minutes. They sway slightly. Remus doesn’t say a word. Not one passes through his lips. Remus pulls away, only to take Roman’s hand and drag him to the car. 

“C’mon you crybaby, let’s go home.”

Roman just nods and doesn’t comment on the tears on Remus’ cheeks. Remus takes the driver’s seat and Roman piles into the passengers’ side. He holds his brother’s bag in his lap, he squeezes it tightly. The drive home is only a few minutes, but Roman’s breathing calms enough to the point where he can rationalize texting. Janus, Logan, and Virgil all get a very simple text, but it’s enough to explain the situation.

‘Found him. We’re going home. He’ll call you in a bit.’

They pull into the driveway, shuffle into the house, take off their shoes. It seems weirdly unreal. It’s like Roman has entered some twilight zone where he and his brother get along. A twilight zone that Roman hopes to make a reality. Like he’s an upset kid again, he takes his brother’s hand and remains resolute in not crying again as he leads him through their empty house. The maid is there, she sees them pass. She doesn’t say a word. She watches the obviously upset twins make their way down the hall and into Roman’s room. Remus lets Roman take him by the shoulders and sit him on his bed. They stare at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say. 

Roman takes the first step, “You scared me, Remus.”

Remus looks away, “I didn’t think you’d care, really…”

“Of course I’d care! Remus, I-I always cared! And I meant it when I said that I am truly sorry!” He’s crying again, and frankly, he feels a little stupid. 

“I kinda figured when you ran at me crying like a crazy person,” His brother picks up the end of his blanket and wipes his face with it, “You’re crying a lot today.”

“I’ve had a quite terrible afternoon, I think a little emotional distress is warranted.” He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, Remus smacks the blanket gently across his cheek. 

Remus ushers him in again, nudging his head against Roman’s stomach and wrapping arms around his back. Roman stands between Remus’ legs and holds his head like the precious thing it is. 

There’s a shudder of a breath from each of them. Both of them are so painfully aware of how long it’s been since the last time they sought out each other for comfort like this. There’s something so familiar in it. The warmth that Roman remembers from a childhood spent at each other’s sides. They used to be so close that they shared a bed by choice. He spent nights asleep and calm holding onto his brother. This feels like that. Something so personal and so old. Remus starts to cry again and it’s a messy sob that makes Roman’s ears ring. He squats down to look Remus in the eyes, taking his hands in his. 

“I didn’t mean it, Rem. I don’t think you’re a failure-I-” Remus cries harder, he does his best to wipe the tears with his fingers.

“You-You mean much more to me than I’m sure I've let on in recent years.” There’s a tenderness and honesty in Roman’s voice that feels good and right.

“Mother and Father have been driving me insane, pressuring me to say and do things that I frankly don’t believe in.” The feelings he’s sharing now are lightening something in Roman’s chest, and from the look on Remus’ face, his words are more than on the right track. 

“Not anymore. I promise to you that from now on I am going to do everything I can to make up for the terrible things I’ve done.” 

Remus smiles at him, teary-eyed and covered in snot. It’s not gross to Roman, not right now, because Remus looks better. 

“Can you start by getting me some water?” Remus’s hoarse voice coughs out, Roman is on his feet and goes to the kitchen as quickly as he can. 

With two glasses in hand, he hurries back. He stops at the door. Inside, he hears Remus talking. He’s on the phone with Janus, who sounds more than upset. He goes in, gives Remus the glass, and turns to leave for privacy reasons. His brother grabs at his wrist and tugs him back. He sits beside Remus and they drink their water. He keeps his mouth shut and listens to the ways in which other people love his brother. Janus is angrier than anything else. The heart-palpitating rant that ensues is wildly emotional. He talks about how much the incidents of this afternoon scared everyone, goes off on tangents about the risks of running off and not telling anyone, tells him with the most love in his voice that he was worried about him. Remus promises not to do it again, Janus only sighs in a loving way. Janus brings up his talk with Roman, emphasizes his support of both of them, and lets Remus be on his way. Virgil is next, and he’s quiet. The call is full of little silences, Virgil takes breaks between sentences. Stops mid-word to take a breath and keep his wits. He tells Remus that he scared him. Tells him that he cares about him, no matter what. That he loves him and wants the best for him. He doesn’t use those words exactly, but Roman reads between the lines. 

They’re fairly average calls considering the circumstances and their relationships. Roman sees Remus hesitate as his fingers ghost over the call button under Logan’s contact. He’s saved as “Boobear” with a blue and green heart. It’s by far the most normal of the names on his list. It’s by far the sweetest as well. 

“Something wrong?” He asks, and Remus gives him a shaky smile.

“I’m worried about what he’s going to hate me now or something,” 

It’s almost the stupidest thing Roman had ever heard. He might not get along great with Logan, but he’s not blind. The little nerd is wrapped tightly around Remus’ finger. He’s seen Remus hang off of Logan and say all kinds of crazy and vulgar things, only to get a small reprimand or occasionally an annoyed-but-loving smile. Remus can spout off in a rant about nothing in particular, only to have Logan hang onto every word and provide commentary and factual corrections. There is nothing in the world that could shake away the Logan Lark who was smiling and dancing in a field with his brother only a month ago. 

“With the way he looks at you,” Roman chuckles, “I wouldn’t be surprised if this made him love you more.”

Remus blushes furiously, and instead of dignifying Roman with a response, he hits the call button.

Logan picks up the second it goes through as if he was waiting by his phone for Remus to call him. The intense emotion in his voice makes the twins do a double-take. He’s normally so straight and narrow. Measured. Collected. There is an air to the typical Logan that has vanished now. Roman wonders why he couldn’t show this side on stage more often. 

“Remus? Please tell me this is you.”

To cover up his anxiousness, Remus flirts terribly, “Heya hot-stuff, what’re you wearing?”

There’s a relief filled laugh on the other side of the phone, “There’s my answer. Are you alright?”

“M-hm! You’ll never guess who made me feel better with a shit ton of groveling!” There’s an air to Remus’ voice that conveys humour.

“Remus.” Logan sounds so serious, Roman watches Remus sigh and roll his eyes at the care.

“Yeah, Logie. I’m okay. I mean it.”

Logan speaks again, that same serious voice, “I’ve been worried all afternoon.”

“Yeah...” 

It’s quiet for a second, there’s a tension of the unspoken affection the pair have for each other floating in the room. 

“I feel this is as good a time as any to tell you that I don’t think you’re a failure at all. You-I...In truth, I find you quite interesting to be around. You...You are...immensely talented in my humble opinion. I...While I understand we haven’t been friends for long- I hope it is not presumptuous to say that we are friends-But our relationship is...important to me. I enjoy your company and all you do for me. It...It is a true pleasure to be in your company, Remus. I-” 

Despite the blushing on Remus’ cheeks, he softly mutters “You’re ranting again, Lo-Lo.” 

“My apologies,” Logan nearly whispers out, there is affection seeping from his voice, “However, I meant everything I said.”

“I think you’re the shit too, babes. Sorry for worrying ‘ya.” There’s that affection again, Roman has never heard his brother sound so affectionate.

There’s another pause, Remus speaks again “I’ll make it up to you.”

“If you make a sex joke at a time like this-” Logan scolded, they could almost see his grimace.

“No, I mean it,” Remus laughs, “We can do something together. To make up for it.”

“I’d like that.”

Roman looks to his brother, the phone, and then his brother again. To him, it sounded as if Remus had just asked him out on a date, but he knew well enough that Remus and Logan were probably too dense to understand the implications.

“I’ll uh-I’ll talk to you ‘bout it later then, kay boobear?” Remus asks while staring at Roman, confused about the ‘oh-my-god-you-totally-like-him’ look he’s getting.

“Alright. Goodnight, Remus.” Logan’s voice drips honey and roses as he wishes him goodnight, there is so much Roman can hear wrapped up in that simple sentence and it’s a wonder to him.

“Goodnight.” 

The call ends and Remus lets out a dreamy sigh. 

Roman winds back and smacks Remus with a pillow in excited fervour. 

“You did not tell me you were that in love with Logan!” 

“Wha-You asshole!” Remus takes the pillow and smacks him back, “I am not in love with him!”

“Yeah right! That was the gayest conversation I’ve ever heard!” He nearly shouts, getting up and grabbing more pillows from the collection at the head of his bed.

“We didn’t even say anything juicy!” Teases Remus, grabbing pillows at lightning speed, preparing for what he knows is coming.

“It was in the tone! And don’t say juicy like that you dolt!” 

Remus hits Roman with a pillow to the face. With an excited cackle, Roman launches an attack, throwing as many of his numerous pillows at his brother as he can. There is an all-out war within seconds. Both boys are shrieking and laughing. By the end of the pillow fight, they’re breathless and more joyful than they have been all day.

“How do you feel about a sleepover?” 

Good. Remus feels very good about a sleepover. That night while laying in Roman’s dumb red sheets, cuddling up to his brother in the way that little kids do, he feels happy. Really happy. Genuinely happy. Logan had told him that it was hard to love somebody when they didn’t act as if they loved you back, and he was right. The smartass was always right. Now though, he felt it. His brother had cared, ran for him like he was the only thing that mattered to him in the world. He loves Roman. Apparently, Roman loves him too. His brother hugs him closer in his sleep. That’s more than enough for his brain to quiet tonight. 

Addendum; August 20th -

Remus went missing this afternoon. It worried me greatly, but he turned out alright. Things between the Grimm twins seem to be better. On August 21st, they arrived to practice bickering but holding hands. They both appeared near ecstatic all day, needless to say, it was tiring. There will be no more need for the “Roman Incidents” section of this notebook.

Circled in red pen, written largely at the bottom of the page, underlined three times over. 

Note: Investigate your true feelings for Remus Grimm.

Starstruck: Part 10

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 10 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 9 / Part 11

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: swearing

Historical Inaccuracies:

Crystal did not join Queen until November of 1975

There is no attic bedroom at Ridge Farm

Word Count: 6.6k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Before you knew it, it was June, and you were packing your suitcase with the last of the things you were taking home for the summer holidays.

You were absolutely ecstatic to have this year’s exams finished, especially because you’d made very high marks on Carmichael’s final assessment. Brian had done well too, turning around excitedly in his chair when he was handed back his test, waving the paper in your direction with a brilliant smile as he pointed to the percentage marked in red. You’d made a clapping motion in his direction, and he’d mouthed thank you. The gratitude shone in his eyes, and happiness bubbled up inside you at what an improvement you’d helped him to make.

Today, however,  frazzled nerves replaced elation, your insides tumbling and your hands unable to stay steady for very long at a time. Today was the day that you would go with Freddie, Roger, Deacy, and Brian to your home at Ridge Farm. Today was the day that you would join two halves of your life, and having never imagined that they would coincide, you were anxious about how it would go.

The day after the expedition to Zandra Rhodes’ flat, you had called your parents to discuss the notion of Queen coming to stay and to use the studio. Your dad had been thrilled, overjoyed that a real band was coming to use his studio, a studio he’d worked so hard to design and to build and to maintain. Your mum was pleased too— it was a long time since you’d had friends over, and she was happy to finally be meeting the people you now spent the majority of your time with, to put faces to names. Your brother would be home too, but, your mum said, “As he’s not yet got up and it’s two in the afternoon, he gets no say in the matter.” And so it was decided that Queen would be spending the summer of ‘75 at Ridge Farm.

Heather, Veronica, and the often-elsewhere Mary Austin would also be joining the party, and plus two roadies, your number totalled to ten. Roger, as the only one with a car, was taking himself, Heather, Freddie, Mary, and his roadie Chris— though everyone called him Crystal— up to the farm. You, Brian, Deacs, Veronica, and John Harris— another of Queen’s roadies— were to take the train.

It was a quarter past one in the afternoon when you shut your suitcase, tossed on a pair of sunglasses, and bid your other housemates goodbye for the summer. Heather, who was to play the role of navigator for Roger, had gone on ahead to his flat because it would take a little longer to reach Surrey by car than by train. You were headed to the Waterloo Station to meet the others in time for the train’s departure at 13:39 for an estimated arrival at Epsom, Surrey, at 14:23.

When you opened your front door, you were surprised to find none other than Zandra Rhodes with her hand raised to knock.

“Oh, hello!” she said brightly. “I was just coming to find you.”

“Me?” you laughed. “How do you even know where I live?”

She shrugged. “Freddie.”

“Ah.”

“Quite.”

You hesitated. “I’d say come in and have a cup of tea, but I’m actually on my way to the train station,” you winced apologetically.

Zandra waved her hand. “It’s fine. I’m busy myself. And I assume today is the day that the band goes off to the countryside? Freddie mentioned,” she explained.

“Yep, off to write an album!”

“Must be so exciting, all that musician stuff,” Zandra mused, shaking her head. “Anyhow, I’m here to give you this.” She handed you a soft parcel wrapped in plain brown paper and tied up with white string. “Go on, open it. You may want to take it with you.”

You looked at her questioningly before setting down your bag so as to free your hands. You pulled at the string and it fell free of the package, which in turn fell open. Inside lay a swath of sparkly black fabric.

Lifting it up from the wrapping paper, you admired what Zandra had turned into a blouse. With a deep v-neck slit, little buttons down the abdomen, a cinched-tie waist and long, cinched sleeves, the blouse was the picture of elegance. It reminded you of the night sky.

“Zandra, it’s beautiful,” you smiled at her. “Thank you. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing, nothing at all,” she said. “But, you owe it to yourself to try to impress a certain someone, wearing that top.”

“I haven’t got anyone to—”

“Oh, sure you do!” she exclaimed, such great spirit that it did not cross your mind to contradict her again. “Let me know how it goes when you get back to London, yeah?”

You pressed your lips together. Nothing was going to happen. Nothing ever did.

“Will do,” you said. “And thanks again. Truly, it’s lovely.”

“I know. Have fun!” she waggled her fingers in a wave and looked both ways before striding across the road.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

From Camden you made for Waterloo, and shortly after you arrived, you spotted Brian.

At the familiar sight of gangly limbs paired with a slim figure and a mass of curly hair, standing on the platform with his head bowed over whatever it was he held in his hands, relief spread through you like a warm cup of tea on a cold day. Everything would be okay. This was Deacy and Ronnie and Roadie-John you were bringing to your home. This was Bri— this was your friend you were bringing to your home, not a stranger.

Strangers did not make you feel like this.

Approaching, you found the others close by, chatting and laughing and sharing bags of crisps. Deacy and Ronnie waved at you and John Harris grinned.

Brian looked up when you neared him, and he flashed you a bright little smile, which you couldn’t help but return— his cheeks were rosy and his eyes crinkled, and you would have died for that smile.

Then he raised his Polaroid camera in your direction and clicked the button.

“Brian!” you exclaimed, knowing that there was no way that photo could have turned out well. “Why’d you do that?”

He pulled the photograph from where the camera was spitting it out, shaking it lightly and letting the camera strap hold the camera for him as he shielded his face from the sun with his other hand.

“Candid,” he said happily. “First of many.”

“Not on my watch,” you narrowed your eyes. “Let me see.” You snatched for the photo, but tall and long-limbed as he was, Brian simply extended his arm above his head and held the Polaroid out of your grasp.

His smile was amused when you glared at him for his betrayal, but you weren’t about to give up. You jumped and reached, but he stepped sidelong and shook his head.

“No. You’ll never let me keep it,” he said, sticking out his bottom lip in a rather petulant pout.

At the idea of him keeping a photograph of you— why? did he think of you?— a tingle ran down your sides, but you quelled all straying thoughts when you remembered that you probably looked terrible in said photograph.

“Bri,” you crossed your arms obstinately, “it’s mine. Give it to me, please.”

He continued to pout, but then sighed. “Fine.” he said, lowering his hand and holding the photograph out to you. You took it slowly, cautious not to let your fingers brush his. “But really, don’t throw it away. You look lovely.”

Before you could hide the blush that rose to your cheeks at his remark, he winked, and turning away, he called out for the other three to smile!, taking the picture before anyone could react.

You pushed your sunglasses up onto your head and squinted at the Polaroid picture in the sunshine.

Your gaze had been directed upwards, toward Brian, your chin was lifted in a manner that looked almost proud, or in the very least confident. Your sunglasses had briefly slipped down your nose at the moment the picture had been taken, and so your eyes could be seen, bright and animated in the warm light of the sunny afternoon, and the hair was blown away from your face— sunlight emphasised the dips and planes of your features. You’d worn a sundress because the weather was for once for it, and it had rustled in the wind, sweeping around your legs; you were painted in elegance.

Brian was right.

You looked lovely.

But perhaps the craftsmanship of the photo played a part as well. Despite being a hastily-snapped candid, the photo was framed perfectly, and the light that illuminated your figure was well-contrasted. It was art, in yet another form; Brian seemed inherently capable of creating art in any and every moment. And he certainly knew how to pick his moments. In photography, at least.

“Y/N!” John called to you, and all the others turned to you expectantly. “Train’s here.”

Sure enough, the clock hanging above the platform matched the departure time printed on your ticket. You hurried over with your bags, which was quite a feat, given you had your messenger bag, your guitar in its case— Brian had encouraged you to bring it— and your suitcase. The others were equally badly off— Deacy carrying his bass, Brian with not one but two guitars, Roadie-John with packed-up amplifiers and cords, and everyone carrying suitcases. Deacy in particular looked strained, having insisted upon carrying some of his wife’s things so that her load would be lessened, but subsequently, his own was significantly worsened. You made quite the group.

You caught up with the others and with a few quick hello’s the five of you shuffled alongside the rest of the crowd toward the train carriages.

Brian was at your side and nudged your elbow. “Guitar looks heavy,” he said.

“Mmm…” you murmured. “Some idiot suggested I bring it along.”

He chuckled warmly, and despite the sunny weather, you longed to move closer to his warmth. “I’d offer to carry it for you, but I’m rather decked out myself.”

You sniffed. “I suppose it’s the thought that counts.”

Just then, a man in a time-worn jacket jostled you, and you stumbled.

“Excuse me,” you muttered. But the man continued to try to push past you, past anyone who stood in his way.

You glanced over at Brian to roll your eyes at the man’s behaviour, but Brian’s face had taken on a peculiarly pinched look. He looked angry.

“Oi, mate,” Brian raised his voice slightly. The man didn’t react. “Hey,” Brian said when you got shoved for the third time. He stepped forward. “Hey, watch it!”

The man whirled around with an equally angry expression, but Brian was taller, and he made that fact quite obvious, leaning down and glowering at the other man. Shoulders stiff and eyes dark, though he had no hands free with which to defend himself should the situation take a violent turn, Brian glared with such scorn at the man who’d run into you that anyone would’ve rightly wilted beneath his gaze.

“Bri,” you said, hoisting your guitar onto your back, “let it go.” Brian didn’t move, though the other man bared his teeth. He stared past you like you didn’t exist. Then the rugged man spat on Brian’s clogs, and Brian lurched forward in fury, his bag and cases landing on the ground.

You were quick to step between the two men, placing your palm firmly against Brian’s chest. That caught his attention— his heartbeat quickened beneath your splayed fingers.

“Let it go,” you repeated.

Brian’s eyes flickered, then met yours. You stared down his intensity, unwilling to back down, though your lungs and their rapid intake of breath were inclined to disagree.

His eyes were melted toffee, and beneath them, you could have melted as well. But then Brian inhaled carefully, and with a gentle touch, pried your fingers off of his chest.

He nodded to you in promise to not antagonise the other man any further, then let go of your hand.

You would have intertwined your fingers with his and held them there, if the crowd hadn’t begun moving again.

And if you’d had the courage.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

The train sprinted along the tracks from Waterloo to Epsom, and the journey passed quickly. Your arrival in Surrey was perfectly on time, and this day, the weather in your home county was no less pretty than that of London.

From Epsom Station to Ridge Farm was another half-hour or so, but luckily, your dad owned a minibus and was waiting at the station to pick you and the others up.

“Y/N!” your dad called when he saw you.

“Dad!” you rushed forward and dropped your bags, flinging your arms around him. You hadn’t seen him for months, and had spoken to him only every few weeks; you weren’t going to be embarrassed for being happy to see your dad.

“Missed you, love,” he squeezed you tightly.

“Missed you too.”

Then you stepped back so as to introduce the others.

“So we’ve got exactly half of the band here, and the other half I think we’ll intercept on the way home,” you said. “This is John Deacon, bassist and vocalist—”

John laughed. “No no, I can’t sing, Y/N. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Andrews,” he shook hands with your dad. “This is my beautiful wife Veronica,” he beamed upon introducing her. The two of them were so in love, it was ridiculous.

“Hi!” Ronnie said, hardly taking her big eyes off of Deacy.

“Hello there,” your dad greeted them.

“And this is our second John, who crews and just generally is a great help,” you said as Roadie-John strode forward.

“John Harris. But everyone just calls me Roadie-John, to sorta prevent confusion with Deacy over there,” he jabbed his thumb in Deacy’s direction, and your dad laughed amicably.

“So they call you Deacy, then?” he asked John, John Deacon.

“Yeah, or Deacs, or something like that. Seems to have stuck.”

Your dad laughed again, and you smiled, pleased. It seemed he and Deacy would get along well.

Then Brian caught your eye timidly. He looked a bit lost, like meeting new people wasn’t his strong suit. It probably wasn’t— Brian very much conformed to the initially-shy-and-awkward stereotype of an astrophysicist.

“Oh dear, sorry Bri,” you apologised. “Dad, this is Brian.”

“Hello,” Brian said, extending his hand. Your dad shook it.

“So what do you play, Brian…”

“Brian May, Mr. Andrews.”

“Brian May. What do you play then, Brian May?”

“Oh, I play guitar.”

“Any good?” your dad inquired.

“I—”

“Very good,” you interrupted. “He’s actually been helping me to learn to play,” you said, pride in your voice.

“Has he really?” your dad muttered in an odd tone. “My Y/N’s been having quite the trouble learning.”

“Dad…”

“Really? She’s a natural!” Brian smiled disarmingly, but your dad’s expression was set.

“We’ll see,” your dad responded, and you thought he looked rather standoffish. Brian’s shoulders seemed to droop.

You frowned.

“Uh, sha’ we get going, then?” Roadie-John stepped in.

“Yep, yeah, sounds good!” you patted your dad’s shoulder and he made a noise of agreement. He took your bag for you, and took one from Ronnie as well.

“Thank you. Those things are heavy,” she said.

“I’m not actually a rotten husband,” Deacy added, “I’ve just already got my hands full.”

“No one thinks you’re a rotten husband,” Ronnie pulled her arm around Deacy’s waist and leaned her head on his shoulder as you all followed your dad toward parking.

“Well thank goodness for that,” Deacy responded, and Veronica brushed his hair away from his face.

You were so distracted by how Deacy and Ronnie looked at each other, with such unyielding affection and warmth, that you didn’t notice Brian until he was next to you, the sleeve of his cream-coloured jacket brushing your hand.

“Hey,” he murmured, and you slowed your pace, guessing correctly that he wanted to talk apart from the others.

“Hey,” you said back. “What’s up?”

“Um… I don’t… I don’t think…” He stopped, then tried again. “What did I say wrong?” His eyes were soft and pitiful, and he looked so genuinely crushed that you almost threw your arms around him. “To your dad,” he continued. “I think I said something wrong.”

“Brian, what could you possibly have said wrong?”

His curls bobbed as he shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure, but I don’t think your dad’s pleased with me, all the same.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” you said. “He gets like that sometimes, when I introduce my friends. He’s a bit protective of me, I think.”

Brian bit his lip and made no response.

“Cheer up, Bri,” you nudged his side. “You can’t possibly look so sad when you get to spend an entire summer with me.”

“Half. Half a summer,” he corrected you. “D’you think I’ll last that long?”

His grin was brazen and his tongue poked out between his teeth.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re on thin ice, Brian May.”

He only went on smiling.

And you’ll surely melt the rest with that sunny smile of yours.

But no, you had it wrong. He would not melt the ice. He would melt you.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

The car ride from the station to your home was mostly uneventful, but as you’d predicted, Deacy and your dad got on like a house on fire. Your dad had studied electrical engineering, which John was studying now, and he played many instruments, including bass guitar. The two were currently occupied discussing electric pianos, and the one that your dad owned, which Deacy now wanted to learn to play.

Veronica and Roadie-John spent the journey playing weird road trip games, half of which you’d never even heard of. You resolved they’d made a few of them up on the spot.

You’d stared out the window, watching the landmarks of your childhood pass you by, pointing out a few of them to Brian who sat beside you. He appeared very interested in it all, to understand where it was you’d grown up, and he asked a multitude of questions concerning your school, an ice cream parlour you’d frequented ever since you were little, and finally, about the lush woods that surrounded the wealth of land that was Ridge Farm. You were happy to answer his questions, and to ask your own of him. He told many stories, and he told them well, upon one occasion eliciting so much laughter from you that your dad raised his eyebrows at you in the rearview mirror.

When the minibus finally rolled up the drive to the main house, your mum stood waving, and your family’s dog, Selkie, bounded back and forth with his tail wagging madly.

Then, Roger’s shiny red Alfa Romeo pulled up beside the minibus, just as you were getting out. Music was blaring, and everyone’s hair was thoroughly windblown.

“Did you even remember sunscreen?” Brian called to the passengers, pulling his guitars from the boot of the minibus.

“Nice to see you too, Bri,” Roger responded, giving Heather a hand out of the car.

“No,” said Mary, trying in vain to comb her hair into some semblance of a ponytail, “we definitely forgot sunscreen.” Gingerly, she touched a finger to the tip of her nose, which was looking rather pink, and winced. “Definitely forgot,” she muttered.

“You’re all pasty-pale,” Freddie laughed, fixing his hair.

“Well,” Crystal returned, “aren’t you lucky, Fred?”

“To be honest,” Heather was swaying slightly on the spot, “I’m not feeling too great. You drive too fast for me, I think, Roger.”

He kissed her cheek. “‘Course I don’t! Have a glass of water and you’ll be perfectly lovely again.”

Heather whacked his arm. “Cheeky.”

Your mum approached the scene, smiling with amusement at the various interactions going on around her.

“Mum!” you said, hugging her tightly. “You’re not at the pub?” Your mum ran the local pub— The Plough— and could thus be found there quite often.

“Hello my darling,” she kissed your cheek. “No, I got your brother to cover for me. It’s good to see you.” She pulled back from the embrace and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “You don’t call nearly often enough.”

“Sorry,” you winced, crouching down to scratch Selkie behind his big, floppy ears as the golden retriever panted happily, having run to you upon seeing you.

“You’re here now, so no need to be sorry!” She smiled her bright smile, the one that never failed to cheer you up, to comfort you, and you knew that she meant what she said. Your mum always meant what she said. It was both a blessing and a curse.

A whirlwind of introductions followed, and apologies too, because your mum worried she’d forget the names of nine new people as quickly as she’d been told them. Of course, no one minded; there would be plenty of time for everyone to get to know each other. Six weeks, to be exact.

Then there was the matter of accommodation. Your parents had yielded the main house to you all, preferring themselves to retreat to the smaller building farther up on the farm. Frank had his granny flat down the path from the main drive, so that left you, the band, their partners, and the roadies divided amongst six bedrooms.

You had your childhood bedroom, Freddie and Mary took a room, Roger and Heather took another, Deacy and Veronica a third. Meanwhile, Brian, Roadie-John, and Crystal drew straws to see who would be sharing and who would get their own room. In the end, Roadie-John and Crystal drew the shorter two straws and ended up in the bunk-beds of the room that your two brothers Frank and Billy had once shared. Brian had looked much relieved by this turn-out, because, as he told you— “My legs wouldn’t have fit on that bed!”

“Well, good you got the room to yourself,” you’d responded. “Though, you could easily have guilted me into giving up my bed to you.”

Brian had laughed, rather nervously. A blush rose to your face when you’d realised how your remark must have sounded. Deacy had then made the incident twenty times worse by turning to you and saying “Y/N, was that an innuendo? I’m proud of you!”

This had resulted in further blushing on your part, and in Brian stuttering out some weak-reasoned excuse about going to unpack.

“What’s his problem?” Crystal had asked, and Freddie had snorted.

“Think for a second, Chris,” Roadie-John had cuffed the back of his mate’s neck.

“Yeah thanks John, that’s going to help me think, you idiot.”

“You don’t need to think, Crystal,” Roger had shaken his head. “It’s pretty bloody obvious.”

“If it’s so bloody obvious, Rog,” you’d interrupted, crossing your arms, “then would you mind pointing it out to me?”

“Oh, darling,” Mary had said to you, almost pityingly, while Roger had laughed.

“No, Y/N, Roger sha’n’t tell you, and nor shall anybody else,” Freddie had put it plainly. “You’ll be blind a while yet.”

And with that cryptic comment, he had wrapped an arm around Mary’s shoulders and dragged the others with him to explore the house and grounds.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

When the sky turned orange and all the land below it golden, your dad had tea ready. He loved to cook and had thus created a masterpiece of salads, grilled vegetables, barbecue, homemade bread, and a variety of dips.

Summer was finally setting in, and so, even in the glow of the six o’clock evening, the sun would not set for at least another three hours.

You and the others had spent the afternoon unpacking, and setting up instruments in the studio. You’d managed to keep everyone’s attention for long enough to show them around said studio, but then Freddie had insisted on more “exploring”, and the others had followed excitedly. You’d offered to give them a tour, but Freddie argued that exploring was more fun, and everyone had agreed wholeheartedly. Except Brian. He’d been lost in his thoughts, sitting in a corner, tuning his guitar as though he intended to begin a songwriting session then and there.

Heather had then tried, and failed, to convince you to join in the exploration. Failed on account that you needed an hour or two to yourself— hanging around nine people, plus your family, was really quite draining. And when you’d looked about the sunlit studio fondly before leaving it for your own room, Brian was nowhere to be found.

When teatime rolled around, you had not seen him for several hours, and he remained elusive even as your mum, your dad, the others, and even your brother Frank who’d slept the day away, gathered in the dining room.

“Oh, this looks delicious,” said Roger enthusiastically, eyeing the food piled up on the table.

Murmurs of agreement echoed all around, but your dad frowned. “Where’s that Brian May got to?”

“Sebastian,” your mum chided. “It’s been less than two minutes since you called us all in. He’s probably just upstairs or something.” Your mum turned to you. “Y/N, would you go look? I’ve just got to let Selkie out.”

“Yep, sure.”

You left the kitchen and bounded up the stairs, smilingly taking two at a time, now that your legs were long enough. You’d always tried to take them two at a time when you’d been little, but you’d never managed more than one set at a time before falling over your own feet.

It was quickly obvious that there was no one upstairs.

Poking your head into the kitchen, you announced, “He’s not upstairs, but I’ll just check outside. You might as well start.” Your dad looked to your mum for approval, and she shrugged.

“Bon appetit, then,” he said.

You slipped on some canvas shoes and jogged down the main path and to the end of the drive, where you stopped.

“Where’ve you gone, Bri?”

Your eyes fell to the green by the path, where tufts of grass had been pressed down in the memory of footprints. Beyond the grass, there was mud, and there too were footprints. And they really were footprints— the person who had made them did not seem to have been wearing any shoes. You set off following the trail.

Down the hill, skirting a meadow, and through the sand by the bank of the river, you stepped with your shoes into the footsteps that had been left.

Finally, you caught sight of the owner of the footprints.

He stood knee-deep in the river, his back to you and his face turned to the canopy of the trees about him.

Birds streaked across the sky above, merely silhouettes against the bright colours of the sky, and the air glittered as ordinary dust turned to stardust in the golden light of the sun.

The river babbled in an almost talkative manner, greeting you— hellohello slosh rush hellohello— and the creatures in the wood had realised your presence, pausing in their activities no matter how careful you made your footing upon the ground. Brian had not realised anything.

A thrush knocked a seedpod against the base of a tree, and other birds twittered merrily in the branches above. The trees whispered their secrets, rustling and passing their leaves along one another’s boughs like notes, and the grass shone in glory green, dotted white flowers conjuring an aura of magic.

You crept along the edge of the clearing by the river, careful not to let Brian notice you. You wanted to notice him first.

His face was expressive— his parted lips, the soft line of his chin in contrast to the sharpness of his wide hazel eyes. His hands hovered by his sides, slim fingers and wrists, the already lightly-tanned skin of his arms showing where he had pushed up his sleeves. His curls were tossed by the breeze and he stared up to the sky with reckless abandon, as though his entire existence hung upon the breath of starlight that would steal across the sky this night and every night after, as though he would give up anything, everything, to be a star as well.

And you understood that he would, because you would too. Without thought, without a single hesitation. Oh, to be a star.

Brian spun around, the water protesting with splashes about his calves, his shoulders tensed and his eyes now wider than ever.

Oh, you’d said that out loud.

“Y/N,” he said, relaxing almost instantly as he recognised you through the rays of sun that streaked across the clearing. “Yes, I’d like to be a star. What a vantage point that would be. I wonder what I might see differently from up there.”

“Everything,” you said. “You’d see everything differently.” You stared up at the sky, the waning crescent of the moon faintly visible in the glow of evening. But Brian was still looking at you; you could feel it. Your skin prickled.

“Would you come with me?” he asked. When you returned your gaze to him, his smile was gentle.

“Oh, but you wouldn’t need me out there, Spaceman. You know it so well.”

“Maybe,” he said, “but it’s lonely out in space.”

You shook your head. “You’d be a star. You wouldn’t think of loneliness. You wouldn’t think at all.”

“Well, while I still have my thoughts, I think that would be preferable to have someone there with me.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him. In an instant you realised that you had been wrong; you didn’t want to be a star, you wanted to feel how starlight looked— ethereal and inspiring, yet powerful. And the closest you’d ever been to feeling how starlight looked was when Brian looked at you.

“You’d give it all up?” you said, and still he gazed at you.“Really you would?”

He hesitated, then said, “Some days, yes. Others, no.”

“Today?” you asked.

There was that gentle smile again. “No,” he exhaled softly, as though he had been holding his breath. “Not today.”

You smiled. “Then hurry up and come back inside. Tea’s waiting, and my dad’s an excellent cook. If you want to get on his good side, then compliment his food.”

“Do you think it’s still possible for me to get on his good side?” Brian began to wade back to the riverbank. “He seemed rather to have made up his mind, this afternoon.”

You held out your hand to Brian as he approached, planting your feet firmly in the sand. “Careful. The rocks are slippery,” you told him. “And no, I think there’s still hope. He’s not as bad as he seems.”

“Oh, he’s not bad, it’s just—” Brian had not heeded your warning and pitched forward. You grasped his hand just before he fell, and he smiled at you gratefully. His fingers were warm where they curled around your own. “It’s just me. I don’t think he likes me.”

“Brian,” you guided him around a particularly mossy rock, “why on Earth does this bother you so much? I’ve never heard you talk like this,” you said honestly.

He finally made it to the riverbank, and the sand dusted his toes, his cuffed trousers dripping water, soaked through because he hadn’t folded them up far enough. “Clearly, you haven’t spent enough time with me. Not to worry, though. Soon to be remedied.”

“Brian.”

He huffed. “Because it’s you, Y/N,” he said, and your heart rose to your throat. “I don’t usually care who doesn’t like me, but they’re your family and you’re my friend.”

Your heart sank.

Once, your insides had warmed when he’d called you his friend, but now things were different. You wanted more from him than just that, and you could admit as much to yourself, even if you couldn’t admit it to anybody else.

But his hand still rested in yours.

Take what you can get. It’s all you’ll ever have.

Your hand curled more tightly around his long, dainty fingers.

He glanced at you, and you realised that you had not said anything for a while. You’d been walking through the wood for minutes and you had not spoken a word, only held his hand, as though you had a right to. You didn’t though, did you?

You pulled your hand from his, and it felt like a severance when he let go.

“Shoes,” you murmured.

“Sorry?”

“You’re not wearing any shoes,” you laughed at the silliness of it.

He looked down at his bare feet and laughed too. “No, I’m not.”

“Why on Earth not?”

“Why on Earth should I?”

“Why not on Earth should you not?”

“Why not on Earth should I not not wear shoes?”

You stopped walking. “You’re absurd.”

He grinned. “And you’re an angel.”

“Oh, so I’m that far gone, am I?”

“Not as far as me.”

“It’s lonely out in space,” you repeated his words from earlier.

“You know,” Brian began as the two of you crested the final hill that led up to the house. “Think I’ll stay around.”

The breeze rustled his curls, and his eyes were bright, his profile illuminated by the sun. A small smile rested on the curve of his lips, and you couldn’t believe that he was real.

You were breathless; he took your breath away.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Tea was not the awkward affair you had expected, with your dad and Brian skirting around each other. It was instead talkative and homely, like the nine extra people at your table had always been a part of your family. It was a shame your brother Billy had decided to stay abroad with his mates this summer; he would have loved all this.

The table itself was taking the meal quite well— it held up, despite the great amount of food and plates and cutlery and glasses and bowls and napkins and trays piled atop its oakwood surface.

It was quite an arrangement, thirteen people around the same dining table, and chairs had been fetched from all over the house, from stools to desk chairs. Perhaps the feeling of closeness amongst you all had been achieved through literal closeness, seeing as the dining table was not meant for more than eight people, and certainly not for thirteen. Knees and elbows knocked, and you had the fortune to be seated next to Bri, whose hand or thigh bumped yours quite often as he reached for something or picked up his knife and fork. He apologised frequently, and every time he apologised and you assured him that it was fine, your stares grew longer and his eyes grew softer.

You could have gazed at him forever. And spoken to him forever, too.

The occupants of the table both roared with laughter and listened attentively as stories both utterly silly and quite serious were shared. There were tales from childhood; tales of Queen from before your time, when they were known as Smile; tales you already knew; tales you had experienced as they had happened, including the recent story of how Roger had plotted and executed his master plan of locking you and Brian in the kitchen. You laughed harder than anyone at that story, because in hindsight, it just seemed so silly, so ridiculous, how angry you and Brian had both been, not at each other, but at being locked into the kitchen with one another. Brian had been sure to describe— in detail— the look on your face when you’d realised that Roger, John, and Freddie had left you in the kitchen, to your own devices.

Your face ached from smiling, and your stomach hurt from laughing, and it was the best pain in the entire world. You wanted to feel like this forever, both young and old at once, young in spirit but wisened by nostalgia and an already great wealth of memories.

And with every glance you stole at Brian, to gauge his reaction to a particular story, or indeed, to nothing in particular at all, you were closer to reaching over and taking his hand in yours again, sliding your hand over the smooth skin of his wrist and palm, and along his slim fingers.

But you didn’t do it. His hands were not yours to hold.

When tea was finished, yawns began to make appearances between words, because it was good and well eleven o’clock at night. You all helped to clear the table and stow leftovers into the fridge, the chatter never ceasing as you communed between the dining room and kitchen. Your dad even broke into song at one point— he’d probably had a little too much to drink— and Roger joined in without hesitation, which led to Heather’s participation, and Ronnie’s, and Deacy’s, and yours, until the entire house was filled with the melodic tune of thirteen people singing ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining’. Your dad swung your mum around the kitchen and she laughed as they danced, and you couldn’t remember the last time your parents had been so carefree. Something about the dynamic of the people around you was extraordinary, and irreplaceable.

It was midnight when you had bid your parents, Frank, and the members of your entourage that had the downstairs bedrooms— Freddie and Mary, Roger and Heather, Ronnie and Deacy— a good night.

Upstairs you trudged alongside Roadie-John, Crystal, and Brian, the former two of whom were arguing about who was to sleep in the top bunk, and who was to sleep in the lower bunk.

At the top of the stairs, Crystal and Roadie-John departed to the left.

“Night,” they chorused, and you and Brian responded in kind.

You made for the last set of stairs that led to your attic bedroom, which you’d always favoured because of its view to the open sky, but you stopped on the first step. You had remembered the polaroid Brian had taken of you, and it burned through your pocket.

You turned back.

“Brian—”

“Yes?”

He had turned back too. Eurydice and Orpheus. If they had both been obligated not to turn back. And had turned back all the same.

The words left your lips in a breathless rush, “Your photograph.”

“My photograph?” he wondered aloud.

You descended the step you’d climbed and walked toward him. His eyes trailed you, and your skin felt warm beneath his gaze.

You held the polaroid out to him, and it felt as though you were handing him your soul. “Have it.”

He blinked at you. “But I thought—”

“You thought I hated it? Yeah, I thought so too. But it’s art. Just like everything else you do. And it belongs to you.”

His lips parted and the world was suspended in that moment.

He took the photograph from your hand, but he barely looked at it. He was looking at you— like he was going to do something.

But of course he wouldn’t. You and your overactive imagination.

“Good night, Bri,” you whispered, and swept up the stairs.

There was no reply.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: the sheer amount of love i have received on this fic is just mind-boggling, not to mention incredibly touching. thank you <3

taglist: @melting-obelisks​​ @stardust-killer-queen​​ @hgmercury39​​ @topsecretdeacon @joemazzmatazz​ @perriwiinkle​​ @brianmays-hair​​

Masterpost / Part 9 / Part 11

Ladrien June Day 4: Model

Ladybug could only pray that the way she was feeling didn’t reflect on her face right now. If anyone had told her last week that she would be here, modeling next to Adrien Agreste, she would’ve laughed.

Yet here she was.

“Ladybug, could you lift your chin? The line of the shirt isn’t falling right.”

She had no idea who the suggestion had come from, but Ladybug blindly obeyed. All of her usual confidence had fallen to the wayside. She was so far out of her usual depths. Part of her wanted to throw up out of sheer nerves, except she would then have to die of embarrassment after doing so in front of Adrien.

It had all started three days ago. When Ladybug first got the request through the Ladyblog to do a modeling shoot with Adrien, she thought it was a joke. Then she found out that Gabriel Agreste was very serious. And then she found out that half the proceeds from the campaign would be going to the charity fund set up to help akumatized victims.

How could she say no?

So here she was, standing beside Adrien. She was transformed, of course. But she was also wearing a high-necked black shirt with long, flowy sleeves that covered her gloves. A black mini skirt and knee-high black boots completed her look, meaning that the only part of her costume actually showing was part of her legs and her mask.

The photographer called for her to lift a leg and press it to the wall beside her so as to better show off the flash of her red costume. Ladybug tried to obey and squeaked in alarm as her balance wavered. She would’ve fallen over entirely had Adrien not grabbed her around the waist.

“Are you okay?” Adrien said into her ear. He helped her to stand before backing off, but he stayed close enough to whisper.

“No,” Ladybug groaned. “Just... put me out of my misery.”

He chuckled. “It’s okay, my - uh, Ladybug. Modeling isn’t easy, but you’re a natural.”

“I highly doubt that,” she muttered. She could see the frustration on the faces of the people around her, and she was mortified that she was failing so miserably in front of Adrien. She was supposed to be the heroine of Paris!

Adrien smiled, which made her heart flutter, and said, “You just need to loosen up a bit. Um... may I?” He held out a hand.

“Sure,” she said, inwardly flailing. She was holding Adrien’s hand!

He gently pushed her back against the wall, looked her over critically, and then helped her to place her hands, arms, feet and even legs. He tilted her chin up and then slightly to the left, then rearranged one of her pigtails so that the red ribbon tie was more easily visible. His fingers brushed her cheek and she blushed.

“That’s better. Just relax,” Adrien said, and leaned against the wall beside her. He smiled at her and she smiled helplessly back. It was so easy to get lost in his beautiful eyes that she forgot all about the photographer and the modeling shoot altogether. At least, until the sound of snapping camera stopped and someone spoke up.

“Wonderful! Now Ladybug, can you take off your shirt? We want a shot of you in your costume, the skirt and boots.”

“Uh, right,” Ladybug said, snapping out of her daze. She shed the shirt and handed it off, smoothing the skirt.

“Very cute,” Adrien said. Then his eyes widened and he blushed. “Uh, I mean -”

“Thanks,” Ladybug said shyly. She reached for her yo-yo, self-consciously spinning it. “How about a few shots with my yo-yo?”

“Yes!” the photographer crowed. Adrien grinned.

They took shots of Ladybug doing tricks wirh her yo-yo. Shots of Adrien trying to do tricks while Ladybug giggled. Shots of both of them getting tangled up in the yo-yo’s strings and falling to the ground together (she definitely wanted a copy of that one).

Then they asked her to remove the rest of the clothes, leaving her in just her costume. The very last photo of the day was of Ladybug up on a ledge, leaning over Adrien. Adrien stood below her, holding up a single red rose while she leaned down as though to take it. It was a photographic moment straight out of Ladybug’s dreams.

No one was surprised when that was the most popular photo of the campaign.

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After trying everything from Network Marketing, to importing Chinese rubbish and trying to sell it on for a profit, we were on the edge of giving up hope and accepting 'dead-end' jobs that would keep us stuck in the rat-race for years. And then in late 2012, I read about Amazon affiliate marketing on an Internet blog, aimed at people who were looking for ways to get out of the rut. Without much hesitation we both agreed that for the tiny investment it was worth a shot, as neither of us wanted to go back to 'work' for a living. It took us 9 weeks of study before we made our first £50 online, and then continued to make a small amount for another 4 months...And then something happened that literally changed our World. While on holiday in France, we got talking to a young 22 year old young guy from Rochdale who was living the good life in a Penthouse overlooking the beautiful Mediterranean sea. 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FULLY STOCKED MOTORBIKE GEAR WEBSITE Business|FREE Domain|Hosting|Traffic See our other itemsThese Are Not Just Good Money Makers, They Are The BEST You can Get FULLY STOCKED MOTORBIKE GEAR WEBSITE Business|FREE Domain|Hosting|Traffic I AM THE MOST TRUSTED WEBSITE BUSINESS SELLER ON EBAY - BUY WITH TOTAL CONFIDENCE FULLY STOCKED MOTORBIKE GEAR WEBSITE Business|FREE Domain|Hosting|Traffic FULLY STOCKED MOTORBIKE GEAR WEBSITE Business|FREE Domain|Hosting|Traffic 100%NO FAIL GUARANTEE! ..."Never Before Have I Offered This NO FAIL Guarantee..."..."Start Today - If You Have An Interest In The Product Then Why Not Make Money At The Same Time..."​​​​​​​Note to EBay - 2 ROYALTY FREE images (from Pexels) have been used in this listing, in accordance with the instructions given to me by EBay in our officially recorded chat reference SR# 1-139529513637 - December 10th 2017Hi, my name is Anna and in 2009 my husband and I found ourselves in desparate need of a way to replace BOTH of our salaries after being made redundant after the property crash in the UK. After trying everything from Network Marketing, to importing Chinese rubbish and trying to sell it on for a profit, we were on the edge of giving up hope and accepting 'dead-end' jobs that would keep us stuck in the rat-race for years. And then in late 2012, I read about Amazon affiliate marketing on an Internet blog, aimed at people who were looking for ways to get out of the rut. Without much hesitation we both agreed that for the tiny investment it was worth a shot, as neither of us wanted to go back to 'work' for a living. It took us 9 weeks of study before we made our first £50 online, and then continued to make a small amount for another 4 months...And then something happened that literally changed our World. While on holiday in France, we got talking to a young 22 year old young guy from Rochdale who was living the good life in a Penthouse overlooking the beautiful Mediterranean sea. You could have knocked us down with a feather when he told us that what was funding his financially independent lifestyle, was the EXACT same Amazon affiliate business that had been making us no more than £150 a month from home. He made no excuses when he went on to 'brag' about the fact that he was making SIX FIGURES a year totally 'hands-'off' using a system he had perfected to SKY-ROCKET his earnings...and he had been making that amount since the age of 19! After agreeing a 50-50 profit split we entered into a 6 month long training period with Matt (mostly via email), where he revealed to us a system that was so ridiculously simple that half way through we could have kicked ourselves for not 'catching on' a long time earlier. Still, we had agreed to stick to the 50-50 split for the 6months and so we kept our heads down and just watched in awe as our monthly commission cheques just got bigger and bigger. That was back in 2013, and since then we have gone on and further improved what he taught us, adding 1 killer secret which even he had not picked up on. In essence, we now also generate over £100,000 a year and have followed his 'lifestyle choice' of spending 6 months in the sun, albeit it further South in Europe! What you see here is possibly the only way you may ever come across to wipe out your debt and start 2018 in a much better place. Here's What You Get - When you buy this website I will pay for a domain name for you. I will register it in your own name so that you have full legal ownership, and I will then create you a 100% UNIQUELY DESIGNED wesbite. I will then open you a FREE Amazon Affiliate Account, and using the Amazon codes that I will get from your account, I will fill your website with over £25,000 worth of stock - GUARANTEED! The stock will be supplied by officially authorised Amazon Suppliers. When a client comes to your site and buys a product you DO NOTHING...The relevant officially authorised Amazon Supplier will process the order (as well as the payment), deal with 100% of the customer service and despatch the goods to the client. At the end of each 30 day period Amazon will PAY YOU between 4% and 8% of EVERYTHING SOLD on the site. How much does this equate to? Let's just say that equates to enough money to allow us to spend 6 months working from a South West facing terfface overlooking the Mediterrean Sea, on the Costa Blanca!!! No computer or website knowledge is needed to run this business. In 2009 I sarted a journey to find a way to work from home, due to personal reasons. Back then we knew nothing about designing a website, and due to advances in modern technology we STILL don't know how to write HTML code. BUT...We have perfected a way to work the hours we want, from anywhere we want which pays us a SIX FIGURE sum every year. And this is your opportunity to copy our success - Thanks to Matt, and a lot of hard work on our part, we have a BLUEPRINT for making money that is now as GOOD AS IT GETS! How You Earn £$ Making Money All you need to earn an income from this business is a FREE Amazon Associates account. If you do not have one then we will open one for you as part of our service. Thereafter, from the minute your site goes live you will earn between 4% and 8% of everything that sells, depending on your level of sales in the relevant 30 day period. You will be amazed at how quickly this income builds as your site remains OPEN FOR BUSINESS 24/7, 365 days a year! Your Site Name Domain Name Is FREE The cost of your domain name is included in the price you pay. You will be the legal owner of the site, and in 12 months time you will be able renew the domain name at a very small cost (approx. £10 per anum). Order Process When Somebody Buys From Your Website When a client places an order you do NOTHING. The approved Amazon supplier will handle the order from start to finish, and everything from product depstach, through to customer service will be handled without you being involved in any way - this is a 100% HANDS-OFF way to make money. On-Going Costs One TINY Monthly Cost There is only 1 on-going cost - and that is for the hosting of your website business. From just £6 a month you can be making THOUSANDS A MONTH in a relatively short time. There are no tie-ins or contracts, because I am so confident that you will CHOOSE to stay with me for a long time to come, such are the financial returns from this business. If you host Annually then you only pay for 8 months and get 4 months FREE (referred to in the listing header). *Hosting is non-refundable once the sites go live... Skills Required? ZERO Technical Skills Needed If you can't turn a computer on and login to your email then this may not be for you, because you will have to know how to login to your Amazon account and check your commissions etc. But as for updating the site NOTHING IS REQUIRED by you. If you have any knowledge of HTML or website design then it will make NO DIFFERENCE, because you don't need it. How Long To Go Live? Less Than 24 Hours To Being LIVE! That's my price promise - No matter what time of the day you order, even if it is on a weekend - I GUARANTEE to have you ready to make money within 24 hours of your order! Google Traffic Get Into Google Within 72 Hours Having a website is just the start - After years of crafting my trade I now know how to get brand new sites INDEXED in Google within 72 hours - and being indexed is the ONLY way to get Organic traffic. So, if you're in a hurry to make money then I am the ONLY person on EBay who can do this! FREE 2nd Site FREE SECOND SITE Why own ONE business when you can have TWO for the same price? Staying ahead of the curve and offering a service which nobody online can surpass is what I aim to do - and that is why I am offering you a STAGGERING opportunity to get THIS SITE plus any other site in my EBay store ABSOLUTELY FREE - Call it a permanent BUY ONE GET ONE FREE! Adsense Ready Earn Money Purely From CLICKS My sites are 100% Adsense ready, and having Adsense means that your visitors can make you money even if they buy NOTHING - A simple click on a Google ad on your site can earn you money. If you have an existing Google Adsense account, I'll even add it to this site for you! Join The Best I Am Officially One Of EBay's BEST! It matters who you do business with, and you cannot enter into a safer transaction than with someone who has proven themselves HUNDREDS of times before - This is TOTALLY RISK FREE for you! Refunds 30 Day TOTAL Satisfaction GUARANTEE Only the best sellers on EBay can offer a NO-QUIBBLE full money back guarantee. It is my genuine opinion that the chances of you asking for a refund are 1 out of 1000. This is a MONEY MAKING opportunity - why would ANYONE ask for a refund it if 'did what it said on the tin'...WHICH THIS DOES! Want To Sell It On? Make £$500-£$1000 In 2 Months... I do 95% of my business on a site not connected to EBay, where I sell my sites for between £500 and £1000 - The only 'Caveat' is that a site needs to be 'searchable' in Google before you can do this. I will show you how to get this site indexed within 72 hours, and I will then show you where to FLIP the site ('Flip'means to sell it for INSTANT PROFITS) for at least ten times the price you pay here. Work In A Garden Shed! Work ANYWHERE - Just Log In!!! There actually is no 'work' as such, all you ever need to do is log into your Amazon or Adsense accounts and see what you have made. One day it may be $£5, another it may be $£500...DOES IT MATTER if it's running on auto? READ THIS!!! This is NOT Get Rich Quick It took us a few years to perfect this system, if you do NOTHING to promote your site then on pure auto do not expect more than £150 a month from it. £150 a month WILL NOT get you rich. We will show you what to do to MASSIVELY maximise what you earn. It's simple, it's fast and it's profitable!!! Can I Have A US Site? Of Course! We have many hundreds of clients, and from all over the World. If you are US based then the site will be built for the US market. Products will be shipped from within the US and all products will be priced in US$. Adding Products Got Your Own Products? The site will come with tens of thousands of pounds worth of stock already on it, ready to be shipped by Amazon. But if you want to add your own products to the site then you can - Very easily. I have even installed PayPal so that clients can pay instantly for your products. OFFER ONLY FOR THE 1ST 20 CLIENTS IN FEBRUARYHURRY!!!Buy 1 Get 1 FREE! ..."The Offer To Kill Off The Competition And Make You MONEY!..." FULLY STOCKED MOTORBIKE GEAR WEBSITE Business|FREE Domain|Hosting|Traffic  ..."The ONLY Genuine Opportunity On EBay"...Buy 1 Site And Get 1 FREETop Rated EBay SellerNO Hidden Costs - EVER!Start Earning TODAY!This is an AUTO-RUNNING fully stocked website from which you will earn commissions purely for being a MIDDLE-MAN - No stock to buy...No strings attachedGo Into Business With Me And Get A 2nd BusinessTotally FREE OF CHARGE  "...See VERIFIED Income Proof Below?..."Host Your Site With Me And Within 7 Days I GUARANTEE Google Page 1 ResultsThis offer Alone Is Worth $3,000 This is the final piece of the puzzle - How to get traffic to your sites, and how to get to the top of Google quickly. NO OTHER EBay business can offer this, becaue the copy-cats will never work out just how I do this. Host your site with me (Trump Hosting), and I will get you onto the first page of Google within 7 days of delivering your sites. I will do it for ONE site and then give you the COPY/PASTE steps to do it for your 2nd - No serets held back, just go through 2019 knowing that you really have found THE GAME CHANGER. ​​​​​​​ When you know how to dominate Google in under 24 hours you are not just a PLAYER in the game, you OWN the game. Just think how valuable just this knowledge alone is going to be to you - Take a look at the results for yourself. One of my own products, which makes me over $93.50 per sale sitting on PAGE 1 of Google less than 15 HOURS after I hit the button. If you have followed my success over the years then you will know one thing - this is A GAME CHANGER! ​​​​​​​This offer is limited to the first 30 clients this month. "...Did You Know AMAZON Pay Out MILLIONS In Commissions Every Year To Owners of Automated Websites Just Like These?..." "...All You Need Is A Wordpress Site - A FREE Amazon Affiliate Account - And A Bank Account To Receive Your Monthly commissions...""...This is NOT Get Rich Quick - It Is Possibly The Most GENUINE Opportunity To Earn Passive Income Online You Will Ever Know Without Having To Take Your Clothes Off!!!... ...And What Is Even Better Is That If You Buy This Site You Can Choose ANY Other And Get It FREE OF CHARGE!"A Work From Home Business With No Stock To Pay For - The Website Updates All Stock Levels And Prices Automatically. ..."Look At The Following Sample Sites - My Work Is WORLD-CLASS..." Bike Shop - Delivered To A Client In The UK - 3rd December 2017.EARNINGS IN JANUAY 2019$355.49 PROFIT In Her Second Month!Herbal Site - Delivered To A Client In France - 11th August 2017.EARNINGS IN DECEMBER 2018$1658.94 PROFIT In His Fourth Month!CCTV Site - Delivered To A Client In The UK - 17th September 2017.EARNINGS IN FEBRUARY 2018$2377.86 PROFIT In His Sixth Month!Hair Extension Site - Delivered To A Client In The UK - 2nd June 2018EARNINGS IN JAUARY 2019$3309.63 PROFIT In Her Eigth Month!Male Grooming Site - Delivered To A Client In The US - 22nd May 2017.EARNINGS IN MARCH 2018$6109.29 PROFIT In His Tenth Month! ..."You Can Buy A Site Cheaper On EBay Because Some Sellers Think Cheap Is The Way To Go - BUT......" ..."Feedbacks Left Since July 20th 2018...CHECK THEM YOURSELF..." Without much hesitation we both agreed that for the tiny investment it was worth a shot, as neither of us wanted to go back to 'work' for a living. It took us 9 weeks of study before we made our first £50 online, and then continued to make a small amount for another 4 months...And then something happened that literally changed our World. While on holiday in France, we got talking to a young 22 year old young guy from Rochdale who was living the good life in a Penthouse overlooking the beautiful Mediterranean sea. You could have knocked us down with a feather when he told us that what was funding his financially independent lifestyle, was the EXACT same Amazon affiliate business that had been making us no more than £150 a month from home. He made no excuses when he went on to 'brag' about the fact that he was making SIX FIGURES a year totally 'hands-'off' using a system he had perfected to SKY-ROCKET his earnings...and he had been making that amount since the age of 19! After agreeing a 50-50 profit split we entered into a 6 month long training period with Matt (mostly via email), where he revealed to us a system that was so ridiculously simple that half way through we could have kicked ourselves for not 'catching on' a long time earlier. Still, we had agreed to stick to the 50-50 split for the 6months and so we kept our heads down and just watched in awe as our monthly commission cheques just got bigger and bigger. Hi, my name is Anna and in 2009 my husband (Chris, pictured at the top)  and I found ourselves in desparate need of a way to replace BOTH of our salaries after being made redundant after the property crash in the UK. After trying everything from Network Marketing, to importing Chinese rubbish and trying to sell it on for a profit, we were on the edge of giving up hope and accepting 'dead-end' jobs that would keep us stuck in the rat-race for years. And then in late 2012, I read about Amazon affiliate marketing on an Internet blog, aimed at people who were looking for ways to get out of the rut.That was back in 2013, and since then we have gone on and further improved what he taught us, adding 1 killer secret which even he had not picked up on. In essence, we now also generate over £100,000 a year and have followed his 'lifestyle choice' of spending 6 months in the sun, albeit it further South in Europe! What you see here is possibly the only way you may ever come across to wipe out your debt and start 2018 in a much better place. Here's What You Get - When you buy this website I will pay for a domain name for you. I will register it in your own name so that you have full legal ownership, and I will then create you a 100% UNIQUELY DESIGNED wesbite. I will then open you a FREE Amazon Affiliate Account, and using the Amazon codes that I will get from your account, I will fill your website with over £25,000 worth of stock -  GUARANTEED!  The stock will be supplied by officially authorised Amazon Suppliers. When a client comes to your site and buys a product you DO NOTHING...The relevant officially authorised Amazon  Supplier will process the order (as well as the payment), deal with 100% of the customer service and despatch the goods to the client. At the end of each 30 day period Amazon will PAY YOU between 4% and 8% of EVERYTHING SOLD on the site. How much does this equate to? Let's just say that equates to enough money to allow us to spend 6 months working from a South West facing terfface overlooking the Mediterrean Sea, on the Costa Blanca!!!No computer or website knowledge is needed to run this business. In 2009 I sarted a journey to find a way to work from home, due to personal reasons. Back then we knew nothing about designing a website, and due to advances in modern technology we STILL don't know how to write HTML code. BUT...We have perfected a way to work the hours we want, from anywhere we want which pays us a SIX FIGURE sum every year. And this is your opportunity to copy our success - Thanks to Matt, and a lot of hard work on our part, we have a BLUEPRINT for making money that is now as GOOD AS IT GETS!​​​​​​I AM THE MOST TRUSTED WEBSITE BUSINESS SELLER ON EBAY - BUY WITH TOTAL CONFIDENCE FULLY STOCKED MOTORBIKE GEAR WEBSITE Business|FREE Domain|Hosting|Traffic Here's EVERYTHING You Need To Know - All The Questions I Would Ask If I Were YOUHow You Earn £$Making Money All you need to earn an income from this business is a FREE Amazon Associates account. If you do not have one then we will open one for you as part of our service. Thereafter, from the minute your site goes live you will earn between 4% and 8% of everything that sells, depending on your level of sales in the relevant 30 day period. You will be amazed at how quickly this income builds as your site remains OPEN FOR BUSINESS 24/7, 365 days a year!Your Site Name Domain Name Is FREE The cost of your domain name is included in the price you pay. You will be the legal owner of the site, and in 12 months time you will be able renew the domain name at a very small cost (approx. £10 per anum).Order Process When Somebody Buys From Your Website When a client places an order you do NOTHING. The approved Amazon supplier will handle the order from start to finish, and everything from product depstach, through to customer service will be handled without you being involved in any way - this is a 100% HANDS-OFF way to make money.On-Going Costs One TINY Monthly Cost There is only 1 on-going cost - and that is for the hosting of your website business. From UNDER £6 a month you can be making THOUSANDS A MONTH in a relatively short time. There are no tie-ins or contracts, because I am so confident that you will CHOOSE to stay with me for a long time to come, such are the financial returns from this business. If you host Annually then you only pay for 8 months and get 4 months FREE (referred to in the listing header). *Hosting is non-refundable once the sites go live...Please ONLY buy this website if you accept that you will need to use my hosting service...It works out at just 20p a day to have full 7 day week supportSkills Required? ZERO Technical Skills Needed If you can't turn a computer on and login to your email then this may not be for you, because you will have to know how to login to your Amazon account and check your commissions etc. But as for updating the site NOTHING IS REQUIRED by you. If you have any knowledge of HTML or website design then it will make NO DIFFERENCE, because you don't need it.How Long To Go Live? Less Than 24 Hours To Being LIVE! That's my price promise - No matter what time of the day you order, even if it is on a weekend - I GUARANTEE to have you ready to make money within 24 hours of your order!Google Traffic Get Into Google Within 72 Hours Having a website is just the start - After years of crafting my trade I now know how to get brand new sites INDEXED in Google within 72 hours - and being indexed is the ONLY way to get Organic traffic. So, if you're in a hurry to make money then I am the ONLY person on EBay who can do this! Also, as soon as you approve the finished sites by mutually swapping feedback I will get the Google page 1 result system triggered (mentioned at the top of the listing). FREE 2nd Site FREE SECOND SITE Why own ONE business when you can have TWO for the same price? Staying ahead of the curve and offering a service which nobody online can surpass is what I aim to do - and that is why I am offering you a STAGGERING opportunity to get THIS SITE plus any other site in my EBay store ABSOLUTELY FREE - Call it a permanent BUY ONE GET ONE FREE!Adsense Ready Earn Money Purely From CLICKS My sites are 100% Adsense ready, and having Adsense means that your visitors can make you money even if they buy NOTHING - A simple click on a Google ad on your site can earn you money. If you have an existing Google Adsense account, I'll even add it to this site for you!Join The Best I Am Officially One Of EBay's BEST! It matters who you do business with, and you cannot enter into a safer transaction than with someone who has proven themselves HUNDREDS of times before - This is TOTALLY RISK FREE for you!Refunds  30 Day TOTAL Satisfaction GUARANTEE Only the best sellers on EBay can offer a NO-QUIBBLE full money back guarantee. It is my genuine opinion that the chances of you asking for a refund are 1 out of 1000. This is a MONEY MAKING opportunity - why would ANYONE ask for a refund it if 'did what it said on the tin'...WHICH THIS DOES! ​​​​​​​ Want To Sell It On? Make £$500-£$1000 In 2 Months... I do 95% of my business on a site not connected to EBay, where I sell my sites for between £500 and £1000 - The only 'Caveat' is that a site needs to be 'searchable' in Google before you can do this. I will show you how to get this site indexed within 72 hours, and I will then show you where to FLIP the site ('Flip'means to sell it for INSTANT PROFITS) for at least ten times the price you pay here.Work In A Garden Shed! Work ANYWHERE - Just Log In!!! There actually is no 'work' as such, all you ever need to do is log into your Amazon or Adsense accounts and see what you have made. One day it may be $£5, another it may be $£500...DOES IT MATTER if it's running on auto?READ THIS!!!  This is NOT Get Rich Quick It took us a few years to perfect this system, if you do NOTHING to promote your site then on pure auto do not expect more than £150 a month from it. £150 a month WILL NOT get you rich. We will show you what to do to MASSIVELY maximise what you earn. It's simple, it's fast and it's profitable!!!Can I Have A US Site? Of Course! We have many hundreds of clients, and from all over the World. If you are US based then the site will be built for the US market. Products will be shipped from within the US and all products will be priced in US$.Adding Products Got Your Own Products? The site will come with tens of thousands of pounds worth of stock already on it, ready to be shipped by Amazon. But if you want to add your own products to the site then you can - Very easily. I have even installed PayPal so that clients can pay instantly for your products.300 Hits A Day When you buy I will send you a .pdf which will show you how I generate around 300 visitors a day to every new site I launch - It is easy to do, and works - every time. All you have to do is foloow the A-B-C instructions. This is what I refer to in the listing above - a simple way to get into a very lucrative business. I'm a paragraph. Simply double click here to add your own text and edit me. It's easy. Describe your product. Mention details and specifications that you believe are relevant to your buyers.100% GUARANTEED! FULLY STOCKED MOTORBIKE GEAR WEBSITE Business|FREE Domain|Hosting|Traffic See our other items FULLY STOCKED MOTORBIKE GEAR WEBSITE Business|FREE Domain|Hosting|Traffic Click to see full description..."Start Today - If You Have An Interest In The Product Then Why Not Make Money At The Same Time..."​​​​​​​Note to EBay - 2 ROYALTY FREE images (from Pexels) have been used in this listing, in accordance with the instructions given to me by EBay in our officially recorded chat reference SR# 1-139529513637 - December 10th 2017 Hi, my name is Anna and in 2009 my husband and I found ourselves in desparate need of a way to replace BOTH of our salaries after being made redundant after the property crash in the UK. After trying everything from Network Marketing, to importing Chinese rubbish and trying to sell it on for a profit, we were on the edge of giving up hope and accepting 'dead-end' jobs that would keep us stuck in the rat-race for years. And then in late 2012, I read about Amazon affiliate marketing on an Internet blog, aimed at people who were looking for ways to get out of the rut. Without much hesitation we both agreed that for the tiny investment it was worth a shot, as neither of us wanted to go back to 'work' for a living. It took us 9 weeks of study before we made our first £50 online, and then continued to make a small amount for another 4 months...And then something happened that literally changed our World. While on holiday in France, we got talking to a young 22 year old young guy from Rochdale who was living the good life in a Penthouse overlooking the beautiful Mediterranean sea. You could have knocked us down with a feather when he told us that what was funding his financially independent lifestyle, was the EXACT same Amazon affiliate business that had been making us no more than £150 a month from home.   He made no excuses when he went on to 'brag' about the fact that he was making SIX FIGURES a year totally 'hands-'off' using a system he had perfected to SKY-ROCKET his earnings...and he had been making that amount since the age of 19! After agreeing a 50-50 profit split we entered into a 6 month long training period with Matt (mostly via email), where he revealed to us a system that was so ridiculously simple that half way through we could have kicked ourselves for not 'catching on' a long time earlier. Still, we had agreed to stick to the 50-50 split for the 6months and so we kept our heads down and just watched in awe as our monthly commission cheques just got bigger and bigger. That was back in 2013, and since then we have gone on and further improved what he taught us, adding 1 killer secret which even he had not picked up on. In essence, we now also generate over £100,000 a year and have followed his 'lifestyle choice' of spending 6 months in the sun, albeit it further South in Europe! What you see here is possibly the only way you may ever come across to wipe out your debt and start 2018 in a much better place.   Here's What You Get - When you buy this website I will pay for a domain name for you. I will register it in your own name so that you have full legal ownership, and I will then create you a 100% UNIQUELY DESIGNED wesbite. I will then open you a FREE Amazon Affiliate Account, and using the Amazon codes that I will get from your account, I will fill your website with over £25,000 worth of stock -  GUARANTEED!  The stock will be supplied by officially authorised Amazon Suppliers. When a client comes to your site and buys a product you DO NOTHING...The relevant officially authorised Amazon  Supplier will process the order (as well as the payment), deal with 100% of the customer service and despatch the goods to the client. At the end of each 30 day period Amazon will PAY YOU between 4% and 8% of EVERYTHING SOLD on the site. How much does this equate to? Let's just say that equates to enough money to allow us to spend 6 months working from a South West facing terfface overlooking the Mediterrean Sea, on the Costa Blanca!!! No computer or website knowledge is needed to run this business. In 2009 I sarted a journey to find a way to work from home, due to personal reasons. Back then we knew nothing about designing a website, and due to advances in modern technology we STILL don't know how to write HTML code. BUT...We have perfected a way to work the hours we want, from anywhere we want which pays us a SIX FIGURE sum every year. And this is your opportunity to copy our success - Thanks to Matt, and a lot of hard work on our part, we have a BLUEPRINT for making money that is now as GOOD AS IT GETS!   How You Earn £$ Making Money All you need to earn an income from this business is a FREE Amazon Associates account. If you do not have one then we will open one for you as part of our service. Thereafter, from the minute your site goes live you will earn between 4% and 8% of everything that sells, depending on your level of sales in the relevant 30 day period. You will be amazed at how quickly this income builds as your site remains OPEN FOR BUSINESS 24/7, 365 days a year!   Your Site Name Domain Name Is FREE The cost of your domain name is included in the price you pay. You will be the legal owner of the site, and in 12 months time you will be able renew the domain name at a very small cost (approx. £10 per anum).   Order Process When Somebody Buys From Your Website When a client places an order you do NOTHING. The approved Amazon supplier will handle the order from start to finish, and everything from product depstach, through to customer service will be handled without you being involved in any way - this is a 100% HANDS-OFF way to make money.   On-Going Costs One TINY Monthly Cost There is only 1 on-going cost - and that is for the hosting of your website business. From just £6 a month you can be making THOUSANDS A MONTH in a relatively short time. There are no tie-ins or contracts, because I am so confident that you will CHOOSE to stay with me for a long time to come, such are the financial returns from this business. If you host Annually then you only pay for 8 months and get 4 months FREE (referred to in the listing header). *Hosting is non-refundable once the sites go live...   Skills Required? ZERO Technical Skills Needed If you can't turn a computer on and login to your email then this may not be for you, because you will have to know how to login to your Amazon account and check your commissions etc. But as for updating the site NOTHING IS REQUIRED by you. If you have any knowledge of HTML or website design then it will make NO DIFFERENCE, because you don't need it.   How Long To Go Live? Less Than 24 Hours To Being LIVE! That's my price promise - No matter what time of the day you order, even if it is on a weekend - I GUARANTEE to have you ready to make money within 24 hours of your order!   Google Traffic Get Into Google Within 72 Hours Having a website is just the start - After years of crafting my trade I now know how to get brand new sites INDEXED in Google within 72 hours - and being indexed is the ONLY way to get Organic traffic. So, if you're in a hurry to make money then I am the ONLY person on EBay who can do this!   FREE 2nd Site FREE SECOND SITE Why own ONE business when you can have TWO for the same price? Staying ahead of the curve and offering a service which nobody online can surpass is what I aim to do - and that is why I am offering you a STAGGERING opportunity to get THIS SITE plus any other site in my EBay store ABSOLUTELY FREE - Call it a permanent BUY ONE GET ONE FREE!   Adsense Ready Earn Money Purely From CLICKS My sites are 100% Adsense ready, and having Adsense means that your visitors can make you money even if they buy NOTHING - A simple click on a Google ad on your site can earn you money. If you have an existing Google Adsense account, I'll even add it to this site for you!   Join The Best I Am Officially One Of EBay's BEST! It matters who you do business with, and you cannot enter into a safer transaction than with someone who has proven themselves HUNDREDS of times before - This is TOTALLY RISK FREE for you!   Refunds 30 Day TOTAL Satisfaction GUARANTEE Only the best sellers on EBay can offer a NO-QUIBBLE full money back guarantee. It is my genuine opinion that the chances of you asking for a refund are 1 out of 1000. This is a MONEY MAKING opportunity - why would ANYONE ask for a refund it if 'did what it said on the tin'...WHICH THIS DOES!    Want To Sell It On? Make £$500-£$1000 In 2 Months... I do 95% of my business on a site not connected to EBay, where I sell my sites for between £500 and £1000 - The only 'Caveat' is that a site needs to be 'searchable' in Google before you can do this. I will show you how to get this site indexed within 72 hours, and I will then show you where to FLIP the site ('Flip'means to sell it for INSTANT PROFITS) for at least ten times the price you pay here.   Work In A Garden Shed! Work ANYWHERE - Just Log In!!! There actually is no 'work' as such, all you ever need to do is log into your Amazon or Adsense accounts and see what you have made. One day it may be $£5, another it may be $£500...DOES IT MATTER if it's running on auto?   READ THIS!!! This is NOT Get Rich Quick It took us a few years to perfect this system, if you do NOTHING to promote your site then on pure auto do not expect more than £150 a month from it. £150 a month WILL NOT get you rich. We will show you what to do to MASSIVELY maximise what you earn. It's simple, it's fast and it's profitable!!!   Can I Have A US Site? Of Course! We have many hundreds of clients, and from all over the World. If you are US based then the site will be built for the US market. Products will be shipped from within the US and all products will be priced in US$.   Adding Products Got Your Own Products? The site will come with tens of thousands of pounds worth of stock already on it, ready to be shipped by Amazon. But if you want to add your own products to the site then you can - Very easily. I have even installed PayPal so that clients can pay instantly for your products. Read the full article

Heaven on a Landslide pt. 11

June 15th, 12:36

Penelope’s eyes fluttered open, a dull ache pulsing through her entire body and she grimaced when she moved to stand up from the floor. The events of earlier smacked her like a ton of bricks and she shot to her feet, all previous pains completely forgotten as she burst out of the van. Her chest felt tight when she picked up on a familiar voice as she walked around the van. She came to a halt when her eyes fell on the red leather jacket, her breath stuttering. 

Whatever conversation had been transpiring before she showed up came to a sudden halt when the group noticed her standing there. She was painfully reminded of that day in the office...when Dante had lied right to her face. That said man noticed her presence and turned around to face her, his face breaking out into that big, dumb and beautiful grin and his arms opening to welcome her in a hug. It almost felt like a dream, the scene playing out just like every painful fantasy that played through her head when she thought he was dead. She started toward him, and with every thud of her boots against the ground, she recalled pieces of their last moments together; every blatant lie, all the worry she’d felt. She had eventually broken into a sprint, her blood boiling like magma beneath her skin. 

“Dante!” His smile vanished, eyes growing wide when she growled his name. It was far too late for him to realize he had really, really misjudged her mood. Too late to run now. 

She swung her fist before Dante could beg for mercy, her knuckles connecting with his jaw and emanating a loud crack. He toppled backward to the sound of Nero snickering from the sidelines. 

“You fucking asshole! How dare you lie to me!” Dante opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a groan, his hand coming up to rub at his jaw. 

“Ow, fuck me.” 

“Damn, think you dislocated his jaw, mom,” Dante shot a glare in response to the younger devil hunter’s smug grin. Penelope sighed and put her hands on her hips, her fury simmering down to disappointment. She actually felt a little guilty...a little. 

“Alright, I’ll reset it on three, okay?” She took hold of his head, inwardly grimacing at how greasy his silver locks felt, “you count.” 

“Okay, o-” everyone watching the scene unfold cringed at the loud crack that sounded from Dante’s jaw, and the man in red let out a rather creative string of curses.  

“Fuck, what happened to three?” She scowled at him. 

“I don’t know, what happened to an honest relationship built on trust?” He sighed, she had a point. He hadn’t even known what he had expected, for her to fall into his arms like some sappy romantic movie? Maybe she would have if he hadn’t of lied to her. 

“Yeah...guess I deserved that,” he let his hand fall to his lap. He slowly rose to his feet. 

“You bet your ass you did! I can’t believe you lied to me. I thought I was gonna-I thought I’d have to go my whole life not knowing,” her voice cracked, composure breaking down fast, “not knowing what hap-happen-” Dante’s shoulders slumped in guilt and he reached out for her, pulling her against his chest. She let out a shaky breath and grabbed fistfuls of his black shirt, clutching at him like she was afraid he’d disappear. The flimsy dam holding back the downpour of tears was destroyed when his lips pressed to the top of her head. She buried her face in his chest in a hopeless attempt to muffle her sobs. 

“I’m here,” he murmured against her hair, heart splitting in his chest at the way her body shook in his hold, “I’m here.” She sucked in a deep, shaky breath and pressed her ear where his heart was, willing the steady beating to calm her. 

Dante held her until her cries simmered down to sniffles and soft hiccups. She suddenly removed herself from his arms, clearing her throat and casting her eyes to the ground. She was now painfully aware that everyone had seen her break down and hastily wiped at her tear stained cheeks. 

“So, uh, what now?” She put her hands on her hips, scanning her group of companions as she waited for an answer. She felt a little relief when she noticed Trish, happy to see she was safe as well. 

“Trish just told me our friendly neighborhood demon king went to the top of the Qliphoth, so I’m going after him,” Dante answered, and she eyed the sword leant against his shoulder in curiosity, that was new. Nero suddenly appeared at his mother’s side, a look of determination on his face. 

“I’m gonna go, too.” Penelope’s head snapped in her son’s direction, opening her mouth to protest but her boyfriend spoke before she could. 

“Why don’t you sit this one out?” 

“Oh, let you call me dead weight again? No thanks,” the woman stood between them raised her eyebrows at Dante. “I’ve got all the power I need, right here,” he held up the intricate replacement for his arm to further his point and Dante let out a sigh. 

“You don’t understand, it’s not what I mean-” Penelope stuck an arm out when Nero growled in frustration, ready to hold him back like she’d done a thousand times. But a voice caught everyone’s attention. 

“Let him go, Dante.” V warily rose to his feet, approaching them, “time is a luxury we can no longer afford. We must chase after him, post-haste.” 

“What, does that mean you’re going too?” It was only when he was close enough did Penelope notice the horrible state V was in. His skin was cracked all over, eyes sunken and dark. Penelope’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, she’d have to check on him when she had the chance. 

“I have a duty to see this through,” Dante let out another sigh, his gaze meeting with his girlfriend and he threw his head back with a groan when he noticed the look on her face. 

“You’re...you’re going too,” she crossed her arms and gave a firm nod, silently daring him to argue. The ache in his jaw made his decision for him. He ran a hand down his face, placing a large hand on her shoulder. “Alright, we’re gonna go my way, and you guys can go yours,” he started to back up, “let’s just say that’s best for the cause,” he saluted before walking off, grasping Penelope’s hand in his and pulling her along with him. 

The legendary devil hunter rolled his eyes when the two men landed next to them. Nobody ever listened to him. The others disappeared into the hole in front of them, and Dante went to follow only to be stopped when a hand grasped his shoulder. He turned to the woman in blue, light eyebrows raised slightly. Her eyes wandered over his face, spotting how thick his stubble had gotten-and how much longer his hair was. He looked pretty good for being knocked out in a ditch for a month. 

“What babe?” 

“You called Nero dead weight?” She crossed her arms, and he could sense a spat coming on. The soft smile on his face fell to a frown.  

“He wouldn’t get outta there when I was losing! Kid only had one arm and wanted to fight Urizen, it was just the heat of the moment. I panicked,” the crease in her brow softened, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging on her cheeks. 

“I hear you, just wanted to know what he was so worked up about,” the taller man nodded, spinning on his heel and joining the others down below. Penelope landed with a thud beside him as he noticed the room had already been emptied by their unwanted sidekicks. 

“When are you going to admit to yourself that you care about my son?” He watched with far too much interest when she let down her wavy hair, watching the blonde ends of her dark hair cascade down her shoulders. She pulled her hair back into her hair tie as Dante chuckled in place of an answer to her question. “He still thinks you’re his father, you know?” The legendary devil hunter paused for a moment to look at his lover. He’d never say it out loud, some idiotic masculine part of him wouldn’t allow him to but he really wished the kid was right. He’d give anything to take away the guilt Penelope felt over her son growing up without a father.

“Can’t blame him for thinking that,” his voice came out softer than he had intended. 

“I definitely wish you were,” she murmured and his chest twisted up at the sincerity of her words. He took her hand in his, squeezing it before interlocking their fingers. She opened her mouth to scold him, he always had such a bad habit of PDA when they were working but spending a month thinking he was dead made it difficult to let go. She could let it slide that time. 

“Hey!” Nero called out to them, standing in front of another entrance to the lower levels of the Qliphoth, “you two gonna make us do everything?” 

“Thought you wanted to play hero?” Dante taunted and Penelope audibly sighed next to him. They couldn’t go two seconds. She released Dante’s hand and lightly elbowed him in the ribs, stepping towards her grumpy son. 

“Sorry, kiddo,” she ruffled his hair before she jumped down through the hole, leaving the two white haired men to glare at each other. 

A whole plethora of demons and six blood clots later and they were even lower in the tree. Penelope had an absurd amount of energy, traversing the Qliphoth with a bounce in her step she hadn’t had for a month. It was hard to believe she had been five seconds away from death an hour ago. She landed in the middle of Dante and Nero, nearly stumbling and chuckling when both men instantly reached out to catch her. 

“Looks like we still got a long ways to go.” Dante confidently strode forward, the group following close behind. The ground started to quake beneath them, the five devil hunters plummeting below when the ground split apart beneath their feet. 

Penelope landed with a swear, it was a miracle her back wasn’t broken considering the pounding it had taken throughout the past month. And as if that wasn’t enough, Dante came crashing down right on top of her-eliciting a string of curses from the small woman. 

“Fuck me, you haven’t eaten in a month how the fuck do you still weigh a thousand pounds?!” She pushed at his chest, pushing him off of her. He propped himself up on his elbows, lifting himself enough to stop crushing her but didn’t move away. A smirk played on his handsome features as he looked around. 

“Can’t help but notice we’re gettin’ some alone time,” she gave him an exaggerated eye roll as he tilted his head towards her until the tip of his nose was brushing against hers, “and you haven’t given me an apology kiss for breaking my jaw.” 

“Dislocated,” she corrected. 

“Either way it hurt like a bitch-” he let out a muffled noise of surprise when she yanked him into a kiss, lingering far longer than she had originally intended. She couldn’t help but giggle when she pulled away and he tried to chase her lips. She clasped her hand over his mouth before he could steal another kiss. 

“Come on, we’re wasting time,” he pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand before jumping to his feet, heaving the woman in blue up from the ground like she weighed nothing. She peered down the hole in front of them, letting out a loud sigh. “They couldn’t of just had an elevator that took us right to the top? Or bottom-whatever,” Dante chuckled as he joined her side. 

“Think that’s a demon king exclusive, spitfire.”

The couple spent more time jumping down further into the Qliphoth than they did vacating the demons in their path. Penelope was almost grateful for a fight when it happened, the repetitiveness of the structure making her antsy. Dante could sense her anxiousness and tried to put her at ease by recounting what had happened to lead up to him rescuing her. 

“So, you...stabbed yourself with the Rebellion? And unlocked your crazy super awesome demon powers?” She asked as she jumped down onto the ledge he was standing on, his arms held out to catch her. 

“Yeah…” he noticed the odd she was giving the sword in her hand and pointed a finger at her, “don’t even think about it, babe.” She looked up at him like a cat that was about to knock something over. He went to grab for the sword, forgetting momentarily the flaw in his plan. He yanked his hand back with a hiss when the blade scorched his skin. She doubled over and clutched her stomach, the force of her laughter nearly making her drop Hellreaver. 

“Oh...I was hoping you’d try that,” he tried to glare at her, he really did but god damn if he didn’t love her laugh. He broke out into a laugh of his own, shaking his head before taking another long jump to the platform below. 

Even more layers below in the Qliphoth, and they came upon quite a dangerous room of lizard-like demons Penelope had never seen before. 

“There is a serious overpopulation of reptiles in the Underworld,” she sighed and drew her sword, taking note of the deadly blades attached to the demon’s arms. 

“You take the red one, be careful, he likes to teleport,” Dante patted her on the back before busying himself with the other demonic reptiles in their way.

Penelope was still dealing with the red skinned demon when Dante had finished off the last of the spinning death lizards. She stood still, her head cocked like she was listening for something. In a flash, the lizard was behind her ready to swing but she spun around on her heel, holding up her sword in defense. The demon’s blades elicited a sharp clang when they collided with Hellreaver, and the lizard nearly toppled back from the impact. With a grunt, she kicked the demon back and swiftly swung her sword, slicing its head clean off. She could feel Dante’s eyes on her back, turning around with a cocked eyebrow. 

“What?” He was leant against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest with a look of pure adoration in his icy blue eyes. 

“I love you,” a blush crept up her face and she blinked in surprise. She recovered quickly though, shaking her head with a laugh. 

“You’re such a sap,” he moved from the wall to stand in front of her, holding back a smirk at the fact she had to strain her neck so much to meet his eyes. 

“Hey, I went a whole month without you. I missed you,” she scoffed. 

“Please, you were out cold the whole time.” 

“But I dreamt about you,” she stopped for a moment, chewing her lip and he smiled smugly, “give it up babe, you only do that when you’re trying not to smile. You’re lovin’ this,” he stumbled when she stuck her foot out in front of him. He straightened himself hastily just as she snorted. “Oh, I’m not falling for that agai-” she nearly fell over herself from her laughter when Dante face planted, somehow not smart enough to look out for her foot a second time. 

He hopped to his feet, a maniacal grin forming on his face and Penelope subconsciously backed away. 

“Oh, it’s gonna be like that, huh?” 

“Uh-huh,” she chuckled, still backing away from him as he stepped toward her.

“You know what happens-” 

“Dante, no.” 

“When you fuck with me-” she squealed when he lunged for her, trying to scoop her up in his arms but she narrowly avoided him. She remembered the last time he got a hold of her after she embarrassed him, her sides hurt for hours even after he’d stopped tickling her. 

The lighthearted moment was cut short when the doorway she’d gone through was closed off by strange web-like vines. She could see Dante’s look of panic from the other side, he tried to strike the wall with his sword a few times but the strange vines were unaffected.  

“Oops,” she smiled sheepishly. “You go on ahead, I’ll find another way.” 

“Fine,” he sighed, “you hurry your ass up, don’t be late.” She left the gate, sighing to herself. He just had to try and tickle her.

Armchair Analyst: Philly&#039;s process, Quakes sink & more from Week 13

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May 27, 201811:23PM EDT

Three months of the MLS season are down. My firm belief is that the soccer we’re seeing is better and more diverse than ever, and that means we’re seeing more and more diverse ways of teams attempting to win the game.

It reveals itself in the possession numbers:

Has possession mattered in MLS in 2018 so far? Maybe not so much as RBNY, LAFC and ATL haven’t relied on it very much. pic.twitter.com/E6pmKNekfS

— Ben Baer (@BenBaer89) May 28, 2018

Atlanta United, the Red Bulls and LAFC are three of the nine (or so) best teams in the league, and while they (and FC Dallas and Houston) haven’t relied upon possession as much, the top four teams are NYCFC (60.5%), Sporting KC (59.3%), Toronto FC (57%) and Columbus Crew SC (53.8%).

In all, 7 of the top 10 teams in the league in total possession percentage are above the playoff line; six I mentioned above, plus Orlando City. TFC – literally the second-best team on the continent when healthy, though it’s now an open question/legit concern as to when/if that will be – make it eight, while Philly and RSL are the other two rounding out the top 10.

Let’s take a look at what’s happening with the Union:

Welcome to Undertown

How much attention have you been paying to the Philadelphia Union? Have you noticed what’s happening? Have you noticed how they’ve pulled themselves out of their early-season funk? Have you noticed how Keegan Rosenberry has grown a beard and rediscovered his 2016 form? Have you noticed how they’ve gone 3-2-1 in their past six games? Have you noticed how the central defense – a pair of 19-year-old academy kids in Auston Trusty and Mark McKenzie – have existed somewhere between “lockdown” and “rock solid” for the past month?

That’s who the Union have become in May of 2018, thanks to reps cohesion and chemistry. They went to Harrison this past weekend and they did what nobody else has done (not Xolos, not Chivas, not Chicago in a 2-1 win for the Fire six weeks ago) in a long time: They outplayed the Red Bulls. They built from the back, they strung passes through their veteran midfield, and they rocked the vaunted RBNY pressure back on its heels with precision and useful, purposeful build-up patterns.

They made the game their own and should have won because they were able to set up in their own attacking third and string passes together in a way that almost nobody does on the Passaic – or, honestly, anywhere else.

#RBNY final-third passing accuracy allowed:

4/14 v MTL: 48%

4/21 v CHI: 36%

4/28 @ LA: 54%

5/5 v NYC: 56%

5/12 @ COL: 52%

5/20 @ ATL: 61%

5/26 v PHI: 68%

That 68-percent passing accuracy in the final third wasn’t a mistake and it wasn’t useless. Philly battered the Red Bulls and probably should have won this one. C.J. Sapong missed a penalty and Ryan Meara had a second straight monster performance in goal, and somehow the visitors turned three points into one. It should’ve finished 1-0 or 2-1, but it ended 0-0.

But still … you can’t have watched that game and not take away a “man, this is progress” feeling from the Union. They were really good, and Jim Curtin is right to like what he sees.

“As a coach, I can’t create that in practice,” Curtin said about facing a team that plays with the week-in, week-out intensity and skill of RBNY. “It’s impossible. Until they go through it, I try my hardest to create it but I can’t. The intensity that they play at, the speed of game, a young player is never going to be used to that and for them to both step up and handle it can confidence, with winning tackles, playing with a yellow card, too, by the way, playing smart — we have asked them now through the weeks to grow and they are growing before our eyes and they are impressing.”

“They are impressing the other staff, as well. Again, happy with where they are at. But it was a total team effort. I don’t want to take away from the rest of the group. I think everybody put a lot into it and again, [and I am] almost disappointed that we didn’t make three points.”

Curtin is no dummy and he’s aware that progress isn’t linear. Sapong has followed up his career-best season in front of net with his career-worst, while from week-to-week the wingers can dominate or disappear. April was miserable for the young backline; May has been stellar. That’s just how this works.

But what’s important right now is that Philly have proved they can go out, keep a zero and get results on the road. It’s a major step for a young team that’s been a long time coming, and while I still don’t think they’re a playoff squad … folks, it’s worth paying attention to the Philadelphia Union. They’re playing good soccer and it’s not an accident.

All You Need is Nothing

I’m taking the opposite tack and feeling the opposite way about a struggling team on the other coast. I’m just not sure, at this point, what the San Jose Earthquakes are all about. They’re 2-7-3 following Friday night’s 1-0 loss at the LA Galaxy, and the song remains entirely the same for this team that was partially reconstructed over the winter:

As I said in the above video, it almost doesn’t matter what formation the Quakes set up in. They’ve tried a 5-4-1, a 3-4-3, a 4-2-2-2, a 4-4-2 and a 4-2-3-1, and regardless they always seem to find a way to concede goals from Zone 14. It’s not inexperience or anything like that – in this game they had Florian Jungwirth, a Bundesliga veteran, and Anibal Godoy, who’s on his way to the World Cup, patrolling in front of the backline. It just didn’t matter. They’ve simply shown no ability to adjust and adapt to/for the weakness that’s been killing their season since first kick.

Head coach Mikael Stahre was sanguine afterward.

“It was quite a good game. It was a game with a lot of intensity and passion. I think we stood up in a good way. We deserved at least a tie in this game,” he said, before addressing areas in which his team need to improve – which, to his credit, he admitted are myriad and sundry.

“I think we need to improve in all parts, actually. Tonight, we weren’t dangerous enough in the last part of the field. I think handled the build up well. I think we handled the defensive part well. I just think we weren’t dangerous enough in the last 30 yards of the field.”

In part he’s right. The Quakes didn’t generate a truly good look all night and while they weren’t sharp when they needed to be defensively, they did only get beat by a Romain Alessandrini banger. It’s not like the Galaxy outright dominated.

But at the same time, it’s not like the Quakes are any better than they were in March. There are lots of worries for teams below the playoff line, but in general it’s worth looking at their improvement curve. Philly can point to theirs and say “see? We’re doing lots of stuff right, just not finishing.” When the Quakes point at theirs … there’s no curve at all.

A few more things to ponder…

11. LA actually took a pair of 1-0 wins this week, with the first coming Monday at the Impact. I’m convinced there are five for sure playoff teams in the West (Sporting, LAFC, Dallas, Portland, Houston) and then a sixth spot that’s up for grabs. And right now, I’m thinking that the Galaxy are likeliest to claim that remaining slot because, so far, they only lose to good teams, and beat the teams they should.

Here are their losses:

@ NYCFC

vs. Sporting

vs. Atlanta

vs. RBNY

@ Houston

@ FC Dallas

It’s a lot of home Ls, but none of those are actually bad. If the Galaxy keep beating the Montreals and San Joses of the world, they probably have the inside track on a Knockout Round appearance.

10. FC Dallas haven’t been awesome, per se, but they’ve been the ruthlessly pragmatic and cohesive team that were the league’s best in 2015 and 2016. They punctuated it with a 1-0 win in Toronto on Friday night, taking advantage of the injured Reds’ lack of speed at the back to counter the defending champs into a loss.

Jesse Gonzalez helped – he’ll be on the Team of the Week. But at the same time it’s pretty clear that TFC have the yips:

It’s time for concern if you’re the Reds. We know they’re literally the best team in MLS history when healthy, but the revolving door of center backs (Eriq Zavaleta played last week, then was injured this week; Chris Mavinga played a half on Friday, then came out with an injury; Nick Hagglund played the second half; what’s in store for him next week?), the lack of left backs, and their disastrous form in front of net has left them foundering after nearly three months.

They’ve got precious little play left in the schedule before they turn this around.

9. There would be no wiggle room for TFC if the Revs had held onto their leads – plural – against the Whitecaps. But they turned a 2-0 lead into a 2-2 stalemate, and then a 3-2 lead into a 3-3 draw. Truth is, they were lucky to get that, and Kei Kamara’s got two looks he wants back.

A point on the road is never a bad result, per se, and the Revs enter June with an eight-point lead in the race for the final playoff spot in the East. But there are 24 games remaining and the Reds have a game in hand. Those two extra points would’ve been nice for New England.

8. Still, that wasn’t as disastrous a result as what Orlando City suffered at home against the Fire. Chicago won 2-1 in central Florida and the Purple Lions, who’d been on a six-game winning streak, have now lost three straight.

Those three are the first three of a 13-game stretch, from mid-May until the end of July, in which I figured Orlando would be outright favorites in just two games. Saturday’s home date against the Fire was one of them, and even if they get healthy – a huge “if” – they’re officially in a brutal stretch. Jason Kreis & Co. need to figure out how to grind out results or this year will slip away from them as fast as last season did.

7. I’ve been down on RSL this year but take a minute to appreciate Bofo Saucedo’s golazo in the Claret-and-Cobalt’s 1-0 win at Seattle:

RSL, like Philly, have invested bigly in their academy program and USL affiliate. The rewards they’ve reaped haven’t been consistent, but are nonetheless bearing fruit from time-to-time. In this one, they played five members of the US Under-20 national team that made the quarterfinals of the 2017 Youth World Cup (Saucedo, Justen Glad, Brooks Lennon, Danny Acosta and Aaron Herrera), as well as sixth Homegrown (Corey Baird), a USL-developed CB (Nick Besler) and a young DP (Jefferson Savarino).

6. The best team you’re not paying enough attention to are the Houston Dynamo. They dominated NYCFC, 3-1, on Friday night, punishing the league’s best possession team for their stubbornness about playing through central midfield. 

Houston are completely rocketized when they win the ball in midfield, and let’s give credit to Wilmer Cabrera for allowing young center back Alejandro Fuenmayor to play through a rough first couple of months. That may have cost them points in March and April, but it will likely give them more stability and options in October and November.

5. Sporting KC’s scoreless home draw against Columbus on Sunday was rife with controversy. Make sure you tune into Instant Replay this week to get the full review from Andrew Wiebe and Bobby Warshaw.

4. Remember what I said about Philly’s finishing?

CJ’s got face of the week on lock. Miserable year in front of net for him thus far. #NYvPHI pic.twitter.com/BkqRnuN4O4

— Matthew Doyle (@MattDoyle76) May 27, 2018

3. Credit Minnesota United FC’s backline for finally giving Bobby Shuttleworth a relatively easy day in their 2-0 win over visiting Montreal. There were none of the usual errors that have plagued the Loons for the last 18 months, and both Christian Ramirez and Miguel Ibarra were on the mark for the hosts.

The Impact look destined to be one of the worst MLS teams in some time. They’ve lost eight of nine and the schedule doesn’t really get easier.

2. D.C. United put in their second really good performance in a row, this time going up a man and then taking a 1-1 draw out of LA against LAFC. Truth is it could’ve/should’ve been more with better finishing (hear that, Wayne Rooney?)

United spent nearly a third of the game in LAFC’s defensive third – a huge number, and one that shows they’re getting more comfortable using the ball to pin teams back. Obviously part of that has to do with the man advantage, but earlier in the year when D.C. went up 11-v-10 they were still a sit-and-counter team.

I’ll admit, I don’t know if this is an aberration or not. But for two weeks at least, adding Paul Arriola to central midfield has helped.

1. And finally our Pass of the Week goes to Samuel Armenteros for this pass to … himself:

That’s outrageous, and so reminiscent of the 2002 Dennis Bergkamp goal that was recently voted best in the 25-year history of the English Premier League.

Armenteros has been wonderful as the Timbers have rocketed up the standings. Their 3-2 win at Colorado marked their sixth straight, and it’s fair to say their early-season defensive issues have been mostly solved.

As for the Rapids … six straight losses with no end in sight. They’re off to the second-worst start in club history.

Series: 

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Armchair Analyst: Philly's process, Quakes sink & more from Week 13 was originally published on 365 Football