#Bobby sure is cute in every photo of his/hers..

[killersfool]

I Want You | ELIJAH HEWSON

PAIRING : elijah hewson x original f!character

GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers

SUMMARY: dahlia jenkinson, josh’s sister is asked to fill in as photographer at his bad’s concert. her plan is to ask him out by the end of the show as she’s been crushing on him for ever. what she doesn’t expect is that one of their songs was written about her—and she’s right there when he confesses it.

WORDS: 5.6k

WARNINGS: smoking, drinking, kissing

Friday. Underground. London.

I run through the station passing the endless people, posters and children's screams. My brother, Josh, had asked me yesterday to help out at his band's concert. He'd told me that their photographer had gotten COVID so he needed someone to fill in.

I dragged my roommate along with me as my moral support, seeing as she's heard me spill every secret in my mind about the band's lead singer, Elijah.  I've been helping Josh with his band's endeavours for years and have also had to condone countless sleepovers. I've had the sound of drumsticks crashing together engrained in my head by this point. Robyn has always told me to 'stop being a pussy and ask Eli out on a date' but honestly, I'm terrified I'll ruin everything. This photography thing has really helped to get me new jobs and more exposure.

"So, you still crushing on Eli?" Robyn asks. She's been glancing over at my phone for the past few minutes. I've been texting the band group chat that I've been added to. They usually kick me out randomly. This is the longest period of time I've been in it without having an argument. I'm pretty proud.

"Shut up." I scoff. "If you dare say anything to any of of them, I will kill you."

"I wouldn't," she laughs. I give her a look. "I'll try not to..."

"You and your big mouth."

"I can't help it."

"I shouldn't tell you things."

"Who else would you tell?" She grabs at my phone, noticing a message from Elijah pop up.

It reads: "Missed you. You've always been the better Jenkinson." I try to contain my smile at the stupid message. It's just a couple words beneath a name on a screen and I'm getting all nervous. It's pathetic. God, this is getting bad.

"That's cute," Robyn says and is about to start writing a message back until I snatch my phone back. Who knows what kind of bullshit she'd start sending. She'd surely send some terrible pictures of me. That's happened on many ocassions. I've learnt my lesson to never trust her with my phone.

"Cringe." I type back, although the smile on my face is betraying the words on the screen. I stare at his profile picture for a few seconds. It's a selfie of me and the band. I look half asleep, probably drunk. Eli's hair is all over his face and Josh is squeezing Ryan's cheeks. Bobby is just angrily staring at the camera. He definitely didn't want to be in that photo. It's sweet that Eli has kept his profile picture that way for so long. We haven't seen each other in months. I send another message, "Well you're not my favourite Hewson."

He sends an angry emoji. "Who is then?"

"Bono, course."

He sends a few more angry emojis before spamming the group chat. There is already some kind of argument happening. Robert seems to be late and they're all asking where he is. I switch my phone off, sliding it into my pocket. Robyn's been unusually quiet.

"What have you done this time?" I ask with a subtle tilt of my head. She's chewing on some haribos she'd bought moments ago. She then smirks to herself, "Nothing."

I'm a little worried but decide to brush it off. We leave the train station and I'm struck by the freezing air. I sometimes forget how cold England is. Having moved from Ireland over a year ago, I feel like I should've acclimatised. But, why is it always so cold? I hold my jacket closer to myself to try to warm up.

We pass at least ten people with 'I love London' shirts. Sounds of street sellers are familiar along with the hustle and bustle of late London nights. I see the London Eye twisting in the distance. Big ben is tolling. The venue comes into view a few streets away. I'm dreading it slightly. I feel as if I'm not going to cope this time seeing that ever-so-familiar face. It's as if with each passing month, he gets better looking. It should be crime. I'll probably melt when I see him.

I instead focus on seeing Josh and my excitement for seeing the gig. They've all really improved over the years. They really know how to put on a good show. Adrenaline rushes through my veins. It'll be fine. Surely.

"You're nervous, aren't you?" Robyn takes notice of me fiddling with my earrings. It's become some nervous habit. I find a comfort in twiddling the crystals between my fingers.

"A bit," I say. Honest. "What if he finds out? We'll surely get piss-drunk. What if he only wants to be mates?"

"Lia, darling, you've got to stop overthinking it. After hearing all these stories you've told me, it sounds like he likes you a lot," she says, grinning. "I'll tell you if I see any looks passed or anything suspicious, okay?"

"You're the best." I give her a hug, forgetting for a moment about the crowded streets around us. Robyn hugs are always too good to be true. I sometimes forget how unbelievably short she is and how she tries to suffocate me with her arms.

Just as we're about to continue down the endless streets, I see someone running past us. I barely even realise he's passed me until Robyn points him out. I see long, curly hair and a massive case swung over his shoulder. Bobby. Then, he turns to face us. Blue eyes catch me off guard then a massive grin. He seems to question whether he should stop or get to the venue. He's very late.

"Is that the bassist?" Robyn wonders. "Robert?"

"That's me," he says, retracing his steps. His mullet has gone all messy in the autumn wind. He's trying to swipe away a few stray hairs from out of his face. "Hey Dally. Who's this?" He points towards my friend with a lazy smile.

"This is Robyn. My roommate. She's the one who accidentally stepped on a pigeon."

"Ah." He then turns into his bird lover mode. "How could you do that to a poor, helpless bird? How could you? Can't believe you're called Robyn. That's a disgrace. Wish I was called Robyn. Or sparrow. Or some kind of bird. God, do I love birds—"

"Okay, Robert. We get it," I interrupt with a finger in the air. He crosses his arms over his chest, pouting. Robyn is laughing at his angered demeanour. He always puts on this irritated-sarcastic face in moments like this. He looks like a child after stepping on lego.

"Aren't you late?" Robyn asks the blue-eyed boy. His phone has been pinging with notification throughout the few minutes they have been walking together. He seems to be a little stressed. I have to almost run to keep up with this speed of impossibly long legs.

We approach the venue. It's a huge, pretty rundown building which strikes out in stark contrast to the fancy buildings around it. The words 'Inhaler:tonight' are written on a chalkboard beside the entrance. The place really matches the band for some reason. There's a queue of fans outside. A lot of them are sat down on the pavement. They scream at the sight of the bassist, piling around him. Phones are being held up to take pictures of him.

"Sorry guys, I've got to get inside. Thank you for coming," Robert mumbles.

Robyn and I act as body guards, preventing anyone from getting too close. Banners have been dropped onto the ground, passersby glance over in confusion. There's colourful cowboy hats covered with jewels everywhere. That music video really drove the world crazy. It definitely drove me crazy. I probably make up at least half of the views.

The majority of the crowd continue to take photos. Some say 'Oh my God, that's Josh's sister!' I give them a smile whilst simultaneously pushing Robert forwards.

We finally get to the back door. The gathering give up after a while. They go back to the queue, attempting to slot in to their previous place.

"Well, doors haven't opened yet so you can't be that late," I remark. The front doors are still locked.

"I'm missing sound check though."

I hear music booming quietly through the walls. I open the door, pressing down on it with fingertips. It creaks open to a long corridor with white plastered walls. It smells of fresh paint. The light is barely even attached to the ceiling. It looks like some horror film scene. Creepy.

But then Josh comes around the corner. His guitar is slung over his chest and his face lights up to reveal a huge smile that I've always adored. He's taller than the last time I've seen him. He runs straight towards me, engulfing me with his arms. I'm uncomfortably pressed against his guitar but I couldn't care less. I'm so glad I came. I missed him so much.

Robert slides past us and Robyn awkwardly stands in the doorway. I introduce her to my brother. He gives her a hug as well. She seems to enjoy this whole situation a lot. She's getting all loud and giddy.

The rest of the band are still playing through songs. They're running through 'Dublin In Ecstasy'. Elijah's voice is echoing through the entire building, sliding it's way through my skull. There's a part of me that wants to turn back. I could just make my way back to my apartment, have a cup of coffee and stalk Twitter accounts of people who went to the show. I definitely haven't been doing that for the past few months. I'm not that insane. Or obsessed.

"Do you want to listen to sound check or hang out back stage?" Josh asks us. He's been talking to Robyn, getting to know her and she seems to like him, thankfully. It'd be downright awkward if she hated his guts.

"I'll follow you," Robyn says to Josh. She starts to traipse down the corridor. I watch her curls bounce from side to side as she jumps with every step. She suddenly realises that she's left me behind. "You coming?"

I groan, staring at the door. "Yeah. Fuck it."

I pick up my camera in preparation. I've been using the same one for years. It's got stickers all over it. Some of random bands, some from different countries and little letters spelling out my name. Elijah had bought me a few pages of letters of the alphabet as a birthday present when I turned 15. I still remember that day. We were all huddled inside my living room after being drenched by a sudden storm. There were about fifteen of us, including the band. The fireplace before us was the only source of light in the darkened room. I think I was dating Ryan at that point. That was a strange time. He was sweet. It only lasted a couple of weeks. Elijah had a girlfriend too. Younger me was very jealous. I think that's what made me realise I liked him.

Now, fast forward eight years and my heart is beating in my ears like I'm a teenager all over again.

I allow Robyn to go first. I trail behind. Josh has left us to our own devices and we try to figure out where exactly we're supposed to go. We decide to follow the sounds of music booming. Closer and closer. We go down a staircase, open a door then we're right at the stalls, just beneath the stage. The door crashes so loudly that all of the band stop playing. They all peer down at us.

The band name 'Inhaler' is upon the wall and coloured lights paint the stage. This room is a lot nicer than the exterior. There's a standing area then seats up along the top. The walls are painted a deep shade of crimson with gold lines intricately painted everywhere. It's too good to be true. It feels so weird being at one of their gigs again. It feels even weirder to see all of them in the same place at the same time.

I trace my gaze along the stage. I take a quick glance at Josh who is tuning his guitar, then Ryan who's staring at us with wide eyes. I shift my eyes a little further to see Elijah. He's dropped his mic at the sight of us. I take notice of the length of his hair. It's falling over his eyes, a mess of curls shrouding his face. He's wearing a white vest top and a bulky blazer which is holding onto his shoulders for dear life. I can't see him very well from here. What I can see is the complexity of his gaze. The way he's looking at me is making me nervous. I take a deep breath.

"Dahlia?!" Ryan calls out. He drops his drumsticks similarly to Elijah.

"Surprise?" I say. I thought Josh had told them I was coming. "Wait, did Josh not tell you?"

Elijah picks up the microphone from the ground, not taking his eyes away from mine. "Josh, you gobshite. I thought she was coming next week," he says into the mic, words jumping through my ears. I hate how warm his voice is through those speakers. It's sickening.

"Well, I'm not complaining." Ryan jumps down from the stage, giving me and Robyn a hug. It's a group hug where we're all squashed together. He's grinning from ear to ear.

"You're still short," I say. I can still look down on him, especially with my chunky boots. He rolls his eyes.  "This is Robyn." I introduce my roommate to both Ryan and Elijah.

"Nice to meet you," Elijah murmurs as he jumps off the stage. He's left the mic on the stand. He's pushing his hair from his face.

Robyn gives me a look, raising an eyebrow in the direction of Elijah. She's got a malevolent smile. What's she going to do? Maybe I shouldn't have brought her.

"I've heard all about you." Robyn gives Elijah a little wink. I kick the back of her leg .

His lip raises the slightest bit. I find myself staring at his mouth for far too long. There's stubble lining his chin and a splatter of freckles on his cheeks. "Have you, now?" His low voice drifts through the air. He's maintaining eye contact with me. I'm trying to evade his gaze.

"She's exaggerating." I assure him, trying to stop myself from giving Robyn another thwack.

"Eli! We have like 5 minutes until door opens and Dublin In Ecstasy is a mess. Get up here. You can swoon later." Robert is already playing the introduction to the song. Ryan and Josh join in.

"Swoon?" Eli shakes his head with a grin.

"We're just that amazing," Robyn whispers to me.

I hold up my camera, taking a picture of the three lads on stage. Then I point it at Elijah. I take a few of his confused face before he leaves us to sing along to the music.

"He's whipped." Robyn watches as he climbs back onto the stage. "Likes you so much he can barely even function-" She points out how he can't even plug his guitar in. He's been trying to shove the lead in for a while but his eyes are wandering elsewhere. "You've got to say something to him. He's leaving tomorrow, isn't he? Maybe tonight.."

I breathe in. "Alright. I'll try."

Robyn and I hum along to the tune. Elijah's rough vocals make my mind go cloudy. He sounds so much crisper in person. I think back to the cuts and bruises vinyl on my shelf. Robyn had bought it the day it came out. Josh sent me every version possible. Robyn went on about supposedly being 'the first person in the world who bought it'. She said she saw the record in HMV and instantly thought of me. We had stayed up late that night to listen through each track. Eating popcorn, drinking alcohol, talking about random shit. That was when I told her everything about Elijah. From the schoolgirl crush, to the trying to forget him then to the full-blown infatuation. She enjoyed listening to every detail I had to offer.

Elijah continues singing. I'm holding my breath, my palms are sweaty, I feel my heart pulsing at my throat. Robyn is swaying to each beat of the drums. Elijah won't stop looking at me.

Then the song ends and we all tun backstage, in an attempt to evade the incoming fans. I hear shouts echoing in the distance. We've gathered in a little room backstage. Josh is showing me some fancy chocolates he bought in Rome. I'm taking pictures of the band members. Robyn keeps photobombing. I rest my head upon the armrest of the sofa, closing my eyes. It feels nice. Calm. Until, someone settles beside me. They grab my legs so that they can properly sit down. The hands are cold and fingertips are calloused. That someone is Elijah. "Excited for the show?"

He's got his pre-show drink in one hand and his phone in the other. I close my eyes once again.

I shift around in the soft cushion attempting to get into a more comfortable position. He scoffs and pulls my legs up by the ankles to rest them over his thighs. "I know you're tired," he says. He takes a sip of his drink. "But if you dare fall asleep during the show, I will throw my guitar at you." I move my legs around his thighs then actually raise my head to look at him. I take a picture as he makes a stupid face. I don't know how he can do that whilst still looking pretty.

"Is this comfortable?" I ask. He's been very still. "I can move if you want."

"It's nice... fine," he mumbles as he scrolls through messages on his phone. "Reminds of that music lesson. Must've been our first year of secondary school. You fainted after some practice test we did. We were sat in this exact position for at least an hour. I think my legs stopped working."

I try to bring my head back to the memory. He was so different back then. Shorter hair, insanely asthmatic. He only knew me as Josh's twin sister. Somehow that was enough for him to stay there with me and keep me safe. After that, he had some complex where had to look after me with his life. It was charming.

"I had to kick you about nine time because you feel asleep, " I recall. My mind is wandering through moments I can barely even remember. "You were so strange."

"I could've left you there in the practice asleep. You should be thanking me for saving you from embarassment-"

"Why, thank you. Oh how you've changed my entire life. I owe you all that I have."

He shakes his head, squeezing the skin at the bottom of my ankle. He then rests his hand there. As if it's normal. He's still reading through messages, biting the top of the plastic cup.

"When do you lot go on then?" I ask everyone.

Robyn has started drawing eyeliner onto the other boys. She just pulled it out of her pocket randomly and asked if they wanted her to do it. They've filed into a queue. She's done some graphic liner on Bobby with little stars that makes his bright eyes pop out all the more.

"Ten minutes." Ryan is putting some hair gel through his hair. He puts some music on using a bluetooth speaker they placed in the corner. Lover, You Should've Come Over by Jeff Buckley comes on. I'm trying to stop myself from falling asleep but it's getting harder with each passing second.

"I'm so excited," Robyn says as she does Josh's eyeliner. She's made his more smudgy and messy. It suits him a lot.  "Elijah, should I do yours? Or Dahlia can do it?" She passes the tube towards me. There's some malicious intent behind her eyes. I narrow my eyes down to the black contraption, taking it uneasily between my fingers.

He lays down his phone and drink. He's trying to push all the hair out of his face to give me some access to his eyes. I kneel down on the sofa beside him. I grab a hair bobble from my wrist then tie the top half of his hair up. He groans as I pull some strands way too hard then relaxes into my touch. He smells like cigarette smoke and cologne.

"How should I do it?" I wonder out loud. I've opened the tube and I'm trying to figure out the best way to go about this. He looks like his teenage self with his hair like this. His eyes are maintaining a hard eye contact as I near him. There's a warmth rising to my face.

Robyn pulls out her phone and shows me a picture of Rodrick Hefley. I snort. "Try it like that," she says.

Elijah closes his eyes as I begin to draw little lines then smudge. I've grabbed his chin to keep him in place. I can feel the sharp stubble poking at my fingers. He opens his eyes every now and then. They're half-lidded, watching. I poke his eye by accident. I scold him for opening his eyes. He decided to instead keep them closed.

I admire my work once I've done. It's not my best liner but it's alright. The other boys gather around to get a look at him. His hazel eyes come into view and he smiles widely at the sight of us all. "Does it look good?"

"Looks class," Ryan says as he grabs a mirror. The other boys nod along.

Elijah looks at himself. He seems to not know if he likes it or not. He smiles at me and says, "Thanks, love."

I just smile back, pulling out the bobble from his hair. An unruly splatter of curls cascade across his forehead. There's something about him wearing eyeliner that's stopping me from thinking straight. It's different. I'm still sat half on top of him, one knee resting on his thigh and the other on the sofa. He helps me off of him then stands up.

He ruffles his hair as he says, "Let's get going lads."

The four boys grab everything they need for the show. Water bottles, instruments, drumsticks, their sanity. They all give each other a group hug. It must be some pre-show ritual because they all down their drinks at the exact same time. If that wasn't planned, it was uncanny.

"Good luck." I wave them off and they travel down the corridor in a straight line. As each of them walk out, I take a picture. Elijah is the last to leave. He stops in the doorway, still holding his plastic cup. He raises his lip to reveal his white teeth as I take the picture. He really enjoys making the strangest faces.

"If you don't get our best angles, I'll have to think about firing you." Elijah warns me just before he turns around. He then disappears down to another asylum-like corridor before I can get a chance to insult him. I let out a breath.

"That went well, right?" Robyn's trying to figure out what's going through my head. I can't even comprehend anything that just happened. The feel of his hand still lingers at my ankle. "That whole time you were talking to Josh about those chocolates, he was staring you down. It was pretty creepy, to be honest." She laughs. "Don't even get me started on the eyeliner. All of us felt like total third wheels."

"Sorry," I say. I play around with the bobble at my wrist. It had been wrapped around those glorious curls only moments ago. "God, I'm so in love it hurts."

"That's how I felt when I started liking Emmy. Literally all I could think about was her." Robyn is in a daze, eyes glued to the wall. "You need to do something before it's too late."

"After the set, I will tell him." I finally accept my fate. I could possibly not see him until next year. Or the year after. Who knows how busy I could get?

"Good," Robyn says. "I'm tired of hearing Elijah this Elijah that. Girl, I get it."

"You had an Emmy this Emmy that phase. Don't even start."

She frustratedly sighs. "Come on. I think they're going on."

I hear the crashing of drums reverberating through every wall, every floorboard. Slowly, we approach the main room. The bodyguard lets us through to the wings of the stage. I can see all the crowd from this angle. There are phones, cowboy hats and banners littered through the crowd. Some of the audience are people we had seen when Bobby was surrounded. They're screaming at the sight of the band.

The first song they play is These Are The Days. I keep my camera handy through every song. Elijah takes notice of us standing there. He steals a glance at us when he has a chance to breath. He's singing a lot stronger than I'd ever seen online.

Then they play through a few more songs on the new album. I sing along, I dance, I try not to get blinded by the flashing lights. Then all of a sudden they've finished playing Love Will Get You There and he turns to look right at me.

"This next song..." His words are pretty slurred. He's drunk. "This is an old one. I wrote this when I was about 17. There was this girl at my school who I just liked so much— I couldn't even focus in class. I played it to her once we'd got it perfect and she had not a single clue that it was about her. She still doesn't. It's been six years and I've never told her." He pauses and looks at me. "This is for you."

I'm overwhelmed by emotion. I raise an eyebrow at him. He just starts strumming along with his guitar. That's when I realise he's playing I Want You. They'd played that song to me in Elijah's garage. I asked him who it was about. He lied and said it was about his ex-girlfriend. I never thought twice about it. I never listened to it because it made me sick to my stomach that it was about her. A girl who I had been so jealous of.

"You got your lipstick on..." He starts singing. He's literally pointing at me. The crowd looks confused. They can't see me.

"Oh, Jesus," Robyn exclaims. "Oh, wow. I can't believe this. He's fucking confessing! Dally, I'm so happy for you right now. What the hell!"

Robyn is just as shocked as I am. We're both slack-jawed, wide-eyed yet caught in a silence as the song goes on. The crowd sings along with each and every line. The other members of the band have caught on with what is happening. They all seem to be pretty proud. Especially Josh. He's smiling so big it's making me smile too.

The truth is, I don't want the song to end. Or the show. I just want this moment to drag on forever. It all feels too good to be true.

The song finishes, the lights switch off, the crowd screams. I'm left in the darkness. Robyn is holding onto my side for dear life. The only thing illuminating the world around us is a tiny light bulb above us. My eyes start to get used to the darkness. I see a figure approaching.

"Can you come with me?" It's Elijah. His cheeks are tinged a shade of bright red. There's sweat lining his throat and his chest. He's taken off the blazer and has slung it over his shoulder. The eyeliner has bled down a little.

"Yeah..." I'm exasperated. My throat is raw from singing so much. My brain can barely process what is happening around me. My hands want to reach out and hold him close to me.

He grabs my hand, pulling me down through a corridor. We're both running towards the back door. I'm trying to match his pace but his longer legs give him an unfair advantage.

We finally reach the exit. He opens the door for me, allows me to pass through then shuts it. I'm met by London streets. Brick walls, crooked alleyways, a rubbish bin. It's not particularly romantic. But, with him standing there in front of me, it becomes the most romantic place on Earth.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like that," he admits. "I just couldn't stop thinking about you when you left. I was going to tell you at the airport when you were about to leave Dublin. So that you could think it through without us seeing each other every day. Then I got fucking terrified."

"I was going to tell you then too." I press my back against the wall. He's pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He offers me one. I let it rest between my lips. "I had plucked up some courage after I went to the toilet but then I sat beside you and forgot the whole script I'd planned out in my head. That was a pretty awkward five minutes. Felt like a century."

"We're idiots, aren't we?" He says as he lights his cigarette. "Josh has always known. I don't know how he never told you. He's great at keeping secrets. Six years of keeping his mouth shut. I don't know how he has that much self control."

"Six years?" I blow out a puff of smoke into the air. My eyes wander across the star covered sky. The moon is looming and watching us.

"I know." He's blushing again. He's trying to keep his distance from me, leaving a slight gap between us. "I'm pathetic."

"I liked you for longer."

"What?"

"Eight years. Since the day you started dating the blonde girl." I feel stupid saying it out loud. He's laughing at me.

"That's class."

We stand there in silence just looking at each other. I can hear ambulance sirens and birds calling. The brick walls is hard against my back. My shoes are covered in water from standing in a puddle. I can imagine that there's a camera above us. This could be a scene straight out of a film.

"Are you going to kiss me then?" Some sudden burst of confidence brings those words from my lips.

He's taken aback. His eyes fall down to my mouth. He then takes a step closer. I can feel his breath at my cheeks.

"Do you want me to?" His voice goes all low and his accent gets thicker. His hand reaches up to cup my cheek. Metal presses against my cheekbone. His thumb lazily draws a line across my bottom lip. His words hang in the air. "Dahlia, my love. Do you—"

I press my lips to his. I can't hold back anymore. I can taste the smoke on his tongue. His mouth is minty and his lips are soft. I've imagined this moment countless times. In a bookstore, in a train station, in the garage. But, this is perfect. Perfect.

My fingers sink into his hair. He groans into my mouth as I pull a few strands at the back. His thumb is sliding across my cheekbones. He's dropped the cigarette to instead use his other hand to clutch my waist. My hands are at his chest. His heart is beating incredibly fast. He holds me tight against him until I feel his chest rise and fall. Up and down. Breathing in and out.

We hear voices behind us. He pulls away quickly. We both turn to see a group of fans. They're teenagers and they're all dressed in bright outfits. They didn't see anything but they seem rather suspicious, whispering.

"Eli! Oh my God!! Can you take my BeReal please?" One of them shouts over.

Elijah runs his fingers over his lips. His ears are a pink shade. He slides his hand away from my waist.

"Yeah, sure!" He approaches the three girls with a small smile. He's trying to act normal. "I love your hats." He points at the 3 cowboy hats which spell out the word 'Inhaler' when they're all stood side-by-side.

"Thank you so much!" The darker haired girl passes him her phone. "Your eyeliner looks so good. You should do it like that more often."

"I had a grand makeup artist." He winks. I roll my eyes.

"Could Dahlia be in it?" The girl with glasses notices how I've awkwardly shifted to the side.

"Course she can," Elijah says.

I stand in the frame next to Elijah as he holds up the phone. His lips are red after being stained by my lipstick. I drop my head onto his shoulder and close my eyes. He nestles his face into my hair as he takes the picture. We're both giggling like lunatics.

I'm so glad it happened like this.

[etes-secrecy-post]

Hi, before I explain my post, I want to say something important.

• What you see my blog has become a major overhaul. And despite the changes, I decided that my 2nd account will be now my artwork blog with a secret twist.

⚠️NEW RULE! (W/ BIGGER TEXT!)⚠️

⚠️ SO PLEASE DO NOT SHARE MY 2nd ACCOUNT TO EVERYONE! THIS SECRECY BLOG OF MINE IS FOR CLOSES FRIENDS ONLY!⚠️

• AND FOR MY CLOSES FRIENDS, DON’T REBLOG IT. INSTEAD, JUST COPY MY LINK AND PASTE IT ON YOUR TUMBLR POST! JUST BE SURE THE IMAGE WILL BE REMOVED AND THE ONLY LEFT WAS THE TEXT.

⚠️ SHARING LINKS, LIKE POSTS, REBLOG POSTS, STEALING MY SNAPSHOT PHOTOS/RECORDED VIDEOS/ARTWORKS (a.k.a. ART THIEVES) OR PLAGIARIZING FROM UNKNOWN TUMBLR STRANGERS WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED, RIGHT AWAY!⚠️

😡 WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT EVER LIKED & REBLOG MY SECRET POST! THIS IS FOR MY SECRET FRIENDS ONLY, NOT YOU! 😡

Okay? Capiche? Make sense? Good, now back to the post…↓

Title: Pizza Love - Miya & Sammir

Hello, September! 🍁🍂 My A-Pal might had free time from celebrating his birthday (like mine), but here's another "Art Trade" for my G-Pal, sammirthebear2k4. 🇬🇹😊

I would like to say something about this "Art Trade", but I'll let Miya do the talking. After all, I'm very VERY busy. ✍🖌️🎨🖥️ So, take it away, Mi! 🙂

Miya 🐰🐻🔋 [wearing her Teenager Bobby & Teenager CraftyCorn clothes combined]: Gracias, creator! 😄 Real question, is my cute cloudy bear Sammir look different to you? 🤔 Don't answer because, that's literally HIM in his young adult looking stage! And man aww man, he look so handsome as his cute baby face in his younger version! 🥰🌩️🐻🤗 As for our date moment? Well, we're having a nice lovable date at the famous Rome Colosseum at Rome, Italy, and eating the best pepperoni pizza, EVAH! Yum-yum! 🇮🇹 🍕🍕😋 Plus, were old enough to drinking a special flavor of wine! 🍷 Its less alcohol than a nasty strong beer, which I don't like... No, WE Speedster fam don't like strong beer. Yuck! 🍺🤢 But light alcohol volume? Yes, please! Don't pls... "Drink Responsibly", folks! 😉 Anyway, we're still at Italy for the next few weeks before me going to a schedule race! I'm gonna beat every racers before I get the highest point from securing the three podiums! 🏎️🏁😁 Bueno eso es todo por ahora! Adios! 🇪🇸 Arrivederci! 🇮🇹👋😄

Yeah, that's all for now! (she said in Spanish) 😊

(Young Adult) Miya Speedster (Chowder OC) - created by ME! (Young Adult) Sammir (HTF OC) - owned by sammirthebear2k4

[kwlsn]

Looking at your appearance once again, you tapped your chin with a hum, thinking what might lack from your today's look — was it your hair, outfit or accessories?

For your hair, you decided to go with a half-up pigtail with loose curls. Adding small accessories and hair ties to secure your pigtails, you put some bobby pins around them and pull your side hair to frame your face.

For clothes, you decided to go with a strapless pink short dress and a frilly miniskirt, showing off your thighs before completing the look with pink high heels with rose and ribbon theme.

While it looked quite tacky and childish, you could for sure say that this hairstyle was so popular during this era.

"Hey, you—"

Emma stepped into your room before going silent for a bit then took out her phone, taking numerous pictures of you in almost every angle she could find.

"You're so cute! You look like a model from 'Koakuma Ageha¹'!"

She looked at you with heart eyes before wrapping her arms around you tightly, burying her face against your neck and smiling at you lightly before letting you go.

"I knew it! Choosing you is always the best decision!"

Walking through crowds in Shibuya, you watched Emma staring at a certain kimono store before taking her inside, staring at different kinds of kimono² and yukata³ were displayed on the wall before a kind staff asked what we were looking for.

As Emma walked with the staff to measure her size, you found a soft peach yukata with peach blossom pattern around its sleeves and at the end of the skirt.

"Excuse me, can I try this on? Do you mind recommending an obi⁴, too?"

The staff looked at you with a smile before taking you to try it on with a burgundy obi as you decided to pay for them almost right away and found Emma sitting down beside you, thinking really hard about something.

"Do you think I should take the pink one or navy one?"

Both of them were really pretty and you could understand why Emma had a hard time choosing one — after taking it into some consideration, you told her to take both of them with her.

"But, I can only pay for one!"

"I'll buy the other one for you, take it as a gift, please."

You looked at her with a pair of puppy eyes and watched her letting out a sigh, paying the navy yukata before you asked the staff to pack the pink yukata, too.

Leaving the store with a grin, you were so happy on the way home as Emma bought both of you a hairpin — pink carnation for her and pink wisteria for you, showing off both of you were sisters and close friends.

As both of you passed by in front of S.S Motors and decided to pay a visit, finding four of them with Draken were still chatting with each other and Shin tuning his bike, humming in delight before hearing the bell rung and muttered a small 'welcome'.

"Why all of you still here?"

Emma stared at Draken with a pout as Mikey ran to you, pulling you into a tight hug before Draken ripped him off you.

"It's great to finally see you again, pipsqueak!"

Draken grinned before giving you and Emma a head pat, letting his hand stay on the latter's head a bit longer before Emma pushed it away — cheeks turning red in embarrassment and shock while Draken let out a snicker.

Placing a hand on your shoulder, Mikey pressed his finger against your cheek when you turned around to face him — earning an earful smile from the older guy before pointing at the shopping bag in your hand.

"Oh, this?"

Holding a finger in front of your lips, you gave him a cheeky smile and wink — feeling satisfied with his reaction as he puffed up his cheek and pouted at your reply.

Meanwhile, the night kept getting darker and Shin asked Mikey to give Takemichi a ride home while both Draken and him would go home with you and Emma.

Waving goodbye to Takemichi, you sat down on Shin's bike with a smile and started to urge him to take you home as he spent some time taking pictures of you just like Emma this morning.

"Shin, ugh, c'mon!"

"I swear, this is the last photo!"

He took a picture of you crossing your arms while looking at him with a frown and pout before he finally closed his shop and gave in to you.

Closing his eyes with a smile, he held the throttles tightly as you wrapped your arms around his waist before starting his bike, tightening the hold every time his bike hit the speed bump or increased the speed.

"Sano Shinichiro, I swear, if you pass the speed limit again—"

While it was scary for you to hit one hundred kilos per hour, it was just another day of Shinichiro as you screamed and held onto him for your dear life.

A few days had passed and you decided to go back to cram school, feeling bad at Grampa for spending money on your education while he would always laugh and said,

' You are the only Sano who got brain. I'll do everything if that means these three fools can be taken care of when I'm gone! '

Sitting down on a bench in front of the school, you took out your phone and texted Shinichiro to pick you up, hoping he wouldn't be late this time since the sky started to get darker and murky.

"H-Hello!"

Looking at your side, you saw a pair of kids standing a few feet away from you. One was a girl with shoulder length hair and the other was a gloomy boy with rectangle-frame glasses.

"You okay? I hope Takemichi already gave you the plushie I got for you."

She replied with a shy smile after introducing both of themselves while playing with her fingers before the other guy gave you a nod, looking at you with an intimidating gaze after letting out a huff.

"Actually, Kisaki got it together with me."

The girl corrected herself before she bade a goodbye and left with that guy, walking to the other direction to your house as you watched both of them disappear from your sight.

"So, that's what Kisaki used to look like."

You hummed lightly, wondering how small this world was when you met the child version of your (presumably) murderer and was actually a friend of the girlfriend of the person you saved a few weeks ago.

While it was shocking for sure, at least, you knew that it would be the best for you to avoid him from the start and made sure you wouldn't cross his path again in the future.

¹ : A popular fashion magazine in Japan in 2000s. Known for their princess-like model and fashion.

² : A traditional Japanese attire for women during formal events. Usually very expensive with few layers and sometimes handed down to children and grandchildren due to legacy and history.

³ : A traditional Japanese attire during informal events and mostly worn by women. Usually affordable and worn during summer due to its cooling effect.

⁴ : A sash to secure clothes. Usually worn over kimono since yukata is really secured and easy to fix.

[stratiotis-nth]

Dean’s lost his wallet. He’s freaking the fuck out. It’s not because he’s gotta worry about his credit cards getting stolen—technically, he stole them first—or the shitty savings cards he stuffed in there since he’s got ten more back home. No, Dean’s freaking out because right in the middle of a heated debate with Cas over noodle shapes, the intercom comes on and an totally oblivious lady’s voice says to the entire freaking store—“Would Dean Winchester come to the front desk please? Figure he might want his wallet and photo of his cute husband back.”

To be fair, the old lady was clearly one of those sweethearts who dote on customers and find anyone of a younger generation to be absolutely adorable and not dealing with delicate issues such as the photo of Cas Dean’s been hiding in his wallet for years.

So naturally, in the midst of total mortification, Dean forgets all about bowtie and elbow noodles and avoids Cas at all costs as he makes a beeline for the front desk, perplexed angel at his heels. His ears are burning, his face is burning, Dean feels like the entire store his watching him as he speed walks as fast as he can without full on sprinting.

“Dean—“ Cas hisses, but because he now thinks he’s in an action movie, Dean makes a wild turn into another lane to skitter out of Cas’ view for a moment. It’s enough time for him to pretend he didn’t hear.

The old lady is smiling when Dean reaches the front desk, Cas following and standing too too close right behind him. Her eyes dart from Dean’s bright red flush to Cas, sparkling in fond amusement.

“Was gonna ask you to describe your hubby in the photo to make sure it’s you, hon.” She chuckles in a Southern drawl. “No need to when he’s right behind yah, hm?”

“There is no one behind—?”Cas began, but Dean cut him out with a strangled sort of noise. The lady chuckles again.

“Here’s your wallet, honey. You two have a good day now.”

“Thanks.” Dean wheezes, stuffing his wallet in his pocket like he could bury the last five minutes six feet under.

Neither of them talk about it until they’re in the car.

“What did that lady mean by the husband in your wallet?”

Dean gulps, eyes fixed on the road as if that would save him embarrassment. It doesn’t.

“It ain’t some random smuck, if that’s what you’re asking.” He grunts. “S’just a photo of you I threw in there.”

Cas was silent for a moment.

“Ah.” He murmurs a moment later. “She assumed we were—“

“Yeah.”

“Why did you put it in there?”

“What?”

“You usually keep photos of your family in your nightstand. Why didn’t you put the one of me there too?”

Dean knew how Cas was looking at this. That because he separated Cas’ photo from the ones of him, Sam, Bobby, and Mom, that it didn’t equate him to family. That Dean didn’t see Cas as family like he did the others. And that just couldn’t slide for him.

“‘Cause I wanted to.” He mumbles, ears burning again. “Got a habit of carryin’ a piece of you ‘round when your gone. Your coat, your ashes, your bloody handprint…” he gulps against a sudden lump in his throat. “Guess I’m waiting for you to leave me again. Or somethin’.” He trails off into silence, avoiding the heavy gaze on him.

“I’m not leaving.” Cas says after a long moment. “Never again, unless you ask it of me.”

“I ain’t gonna do that.”

“Then I’m not going anywhere. There’s no need to carry of piece of me around when I will always be right here.”

Dean swallows again.

“Do you believe me?”

And, just how Cas continuously put his faith in Dean, Dean decides it was time to put his faith in Cas.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Dean still keeps the photo in his wallet, not because he thinks Cas will leave him, but because seeing his angel’s face every time he goes for his stolen credit card or shitty savings coupons makes him smile.

[innytoes]

I love your AU's! Any chance I could prompt 'you're not alone you never were' for platonic Reggie&Luke&Alex in your abo AU or in the Reggie survives AU?

(Set in the Reggie is the one who survived AU. I did tweak the quote a tiny bit.)

Honestly, Reggie thought he should deserve a pat on the back for the way he'd handled the last few months. The tour he'd taken to get the label off his back for axing half his album (all the songs that Julie was going to be in) and having to re-record had gone great. His new album had done pretty amazing as well. And he hadn't had a full, screaming breakdown when he learned that his daughter had been harbouring his three dead best friends in the garage.

Okay, there had been some screaming, but not a full breakdown.

Then there had been an evil ghost magician, and something about powerful shocks hurting his boys, and he'd almost had to say goodbye to the guys again, if it weren't for his daughter's magic hug of love.

Listen, he'd always said Julie was a wonder, a marvel, a miracle. He shouldn't have been so surprised when she proved it.

These days, the guys could be seen by anyone that Julie loved, all the time. Which made life a lot more interesting in the Molina house. Even if it was kind of weird how he'd aged twenty-five years and the guys... hadn't, it was so, so good to have his friends back. To be able to actually talk to them. To be able to talk to them without Julie having to be right next to them playing music with them, or translating for them while they were invisible.

He loved having his gossip sessions with Alex back. Okay sure, they mostly focused on Willie, since every time Reggie gushed about how cute Ray was, Alex' eyebrows did The Thing. He loved walking into the studio to see Luke sprawled on the couch with his song book, wanting his opinion on a cool riff he’d come up with. He loved just sitting quietly with Bobby, knowing that if he looked up from his book or his own writing, he'd see his friend right there.

Still, sometimes Reggie felt like there was something twisted up inside of him. He’d spent years and years in therapy, getting over the loss of his friends, finding reasons to live again. And now they were just... back. Just like that. As real and alive as they ever seemed, except for the whole ‘incorporeal’ part. Only Julie had been blessed with the ability to touch them, it seemed.

He’d go back to therapy, but he couldn’t exactly tell Dr Butler about his dead friends coming back as ghosts, now could he? Or the incredible amount of guilt he felt sometimes at the dark thoughts that swirled around. Ray said he was sure Rose had sent them the boys, but didn’t she know they needed her? But Luke, Alex and Bobby had given Julie her music back, her spark. Wasn’t that enough?

He used to go in the studio sometimes, to cry, to sit among Rose’s plants and talk to her. To let out all his grief where the kids didn’t see it and Ray wouldn’t feel like he had to comfort him. But now, that wasn’t an option. Which was why Reggie was wandering the house in the dark, unable to sleep, unable to settle.

Luke was the one that found him, pressed up against the bookshelf in a corner of the living room, a big, chunky photo album on his lap. He’d shied away from photo’s a lot, the first year or two after the guy’s death, barely able to look at himself in the mirror, never mind in a photograph without feeling like something was missing. But as his thing with Rose and Ray grew, bloomed into love, into a real relationship, he hadn’t been able to resist his photographer boyfriend. Besides, he’d wanted the happy memories, the proof that there were things to live for other than survivor’s guilt and duty.

He’d been tracing the edge of the photograph of him and Ray and Rose, squished together on their new (well, newly thrifted) sofa. Ray was sprawled half over his and Rose’s laps from where he’d tripped, trying to get back to the couch before the timer on his camera went off, Reggie throwing his head back in laughter. Rose was smiling, eyes so full of love as she’d placed a hand to steady Ray.

Reggie could feel the tears dripping down his face, but as long as they weren’t getting on the album, he didn’t care. He’d barely heard Luke’s little shocked ‘oh’, but he had heard the distinctive woosh of a ghost leaving.

Even after all these years, Luke still had no idea how to deal with crying people.

Or at least, Reggie thought, as he heard two wooshes, his reaction was still the same as it always was: Get Alex.

“Reg?” Alex asked, gently. It was ridiculous, Reggie was a grown man, and here he was, relying on comfort from a seventeen year old. Who died. “You okay, buddy?”

He wiped at his eyes, trying to muster up a smile on his face like he would for Julie or Carlos. “I’m alright,” he said, reassuringly. “Sorry for freaking you out.”

Luke stared at him, eyebrows knit together, like he was a puzzle, before declaring: “Bullshit.”

“What?” Reggie asked, dumbfounded.

“Bullshit,” Alex repeated, clearly agreeing with Luke. He plopped down next to Reggie, squeezing himself in the impossibly small space between Reggie and the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest. Luke flanked his other side, sitting as close as possible without actually touching. “You’re such a dad now, Reggie. You don’t have to pretend with us.”

Something inside Reggie that was already brittle started to crack.

“You know you can always talk to us,” Luke said. “We’re here for you, man.”

A sob escaped his lips before he could bite it back, then another. He figured it was better to let those out than the words brewing inside him, like a storm, black inky clouds ready to burst forth and ruin the peace, ruin everything between them. Luke and Alex crowded in as close as they could without going through him.

“You miss your wife?” Alex asked gently, peering at the photo album. It must be weird for him to see Reggie like that, a few years older than when the guys had died. Proof he’d grown up without them. He nodded.

Alex leaned in, peering at the pictures. One was of him and Rose, slow dancing in the kitchen, which Ray had sneakily taken. He’d somehow made the shitty orange-y light in their kitchen into something warm and magical. Another was of Ray and Rose at Ray’s birthday party, Rose laughing because he got frosting on his nose from the cupcakes Reggie had made. The third was of Reggie and his banjo, serenading Rose or possibly the neighbour’s cat that liked to hang out on their fire escape. “You guys look happy.”

“We were, in these pictures,” Reggie heard himself say, fingers tracing Rose’s handwriting under the picture of her and Ray. “Rose put together these albums for me, to remind me there were still good things.”

“There weren’t a lot of good things?” Luke asked, and he sounded confused. “You’re having cupcakes and playing music.”

The crack inside him grew wider, the storm brewing inside him spilling out before he could stop it. “Well I was a little depressed about the only people who loved me dying and leaving me all alone in the world,” he snapped.

Luke reared back, eyes big, and Reggie took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to remember the breathing exercises Dr Butler had taught him all those years ago. “Sorry,” he said, wiping a hand over his face. “Sorry, that’s not fair, it’s not your fault.”

“But you’re not alone,” Alex said gently, flipping the page. A large picture of him, Ray, and Rose was on this page, posing in front of the music club where Rose had her first big out-of-town gig with the Petal Pushers, Rose’s neat handwriting reminding him of how for the encore, Hazel had pulled him on stage so they could sing the love song Rose wrote for them at Ray. On the other side of the page were shots from the performance, Rose looking radiant, her and Reggie crooning into a single mic together, Hazel messing up his hair during the final applause. “Looks like you never were.”

All the fight went out of Reggie, and he sank back down. Alex was right, of course. He’d been so lucky to have Ray and Rose, and then also the Petal Pushers. But it hadn’t filled the raw, gaping hole in his heart that had been made when Alex, Luke, and Bobby were torn out of his life for what he thought was forever.

“And you have us now again too, for however long we get to stay,” Luke said, the stubborn set of his jaw showing that it would be a long, long time if he had anything to say about it.

“I’m so glad you guys are back,” he said, wanting to make sure they knew that. Of course he was. “I just... It’s so selfish. I just wish she was too.”

“Dude, of course you do,” Luke said. “You love her.” He looked kind of uncertain, but he pressed on anyway. “Julie thinks she sent us back to you. That she’s watching over you guys. She says there are Signs.”

And yeah, that sounded like his Julie. And his Rose. He tried to hold on to that. Maybe he should start looking for signs as well, instead of focusing all his grief and energy inward again, bottling it up until it either exploded within him, or he just went numb. Maybe he should give Dr Butler a call, even if he had to talk around the Ghost Thing.

“You’ll be with her again one day,” Alex soothed. “Maybe just... take your time getting there.”

“Of course,” Reggie agreed. “Someone needs to make sure you guys aren’t too much of a bad influence on my daughter.”

The spluttering from his boys might not be a sign, but it did help seal the cracks in Reggie’s soul a little.

[caitlesshea]

begging for footnotes in the story of your life

Ana learns a lot about Buck while she’s dating Eddie, like how Buck’s the one who should be dating him.

Ana learns about Buck in stages.

First from Christopher, when she was his teacher, and he would mention his Buck or draw Buck in family pictures. 

The second from the school nurse telling her that Christopher is being signed out to go home and she sees his name on Chris’ school forms. 

The third is from Eddie, when he brings him up as a work colleague even though she suspects it’s more than that.

She just doesn’t realize how much more until the first time she sees the inside of Eddie’s house. 

His house is homey, much cozier than she’d expect for a single dad who’s a first responder. She says as much and he chuckles.

“Some of this I did, but most was my Abuela.”

Ana nods and walks over to the mantle to look at the photos. 

She sees a picture of a younger Christopher sitting in a high chair between Eddie and a woman who she assumes is Shannon. 

“Shannon?” She asks quietly.

“Yeah. Chris, uhh, wanted to put some up.”

Ana nods and continues looking. There’s some more of Eddie and Chris, people she assumes are Eddie’s parents and his Abuela, and then there’s Buck.

Or well, she thinks it’s Buck, with how Chris has always described him. She notices one photo in particular that causes her to pause.

“Is that?”

Eddie reaches up and grabs the back of his neck, almost like he’s nervous. 

“Uh, yeah. Buck built him a skateboard, we tried it out at the park.”

So, Buck built Chris a skateboard after Ana wrongly said that Chris should know his limitations. 

“I’m sorry for saying what I said.”

“It’s fine, Ana.” 

“It’s not.”

Eddie shrugs and Ana considers bringing it up again but she chooses not to, instead focusing on a Christmas photo that was taken at the station; Eddie, Chris, and Buck in the back smiling. 

Eddie follows her eye movement and he smiles. “Buck and Athena set that up. We were on shift on Christmas and he surprised us with our families and dinner.”

“That was sweet.” Ana feels a little out of her depth here. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen this soft look on Eddie’s face before but she doesn’t want to ruin the moment. 

“It was, yeah.” 

They finish going through the photos, as Ana learns more about Eddie’s life. 

He makes them dinner, although he sticks a pan of lasagna in the oven so she doesn’t know how much he actually cooked. 

They’re about to sit on the couch, when he stops and says he’s going to grab something from his room. She follows him and notices for the first time that his room is a different sort of style than the rest of the house. 

It’s all dark blues and grays with some stylish lamps and photographs on the walls. 

She almost wishes she didn’t know about Buck now. 

“I like your room,” She comments while he grabs a blanket from the bed. It’s a soft black velvet.

“Oh, thanks. This was mostly Buck. My room apparently looked like a boring hotel room so he’s been giving me some of his stuff.”

“That’s?”

“Nice, right?”

No. She was going to say weird. But she nods instead. 

“The photo?” Ana asks as she walks closer to the print on the wall. It’s the typical California style photo, the palm tree lined street, but it’s in black and white, tasteful, where they’re usually cheesy. 

“Oh, uh, Buck took that. Had it framed for my birthday last year. Said it can remind me of why I moved us here, for a fresh start.”

“Huh.” Ana can tell it’s important to him, can tell that he loves the photo and the sentiment behind it. What she can’t tell is if he loves the photo more or the person who took it. 

“C’mon, let’s go watch the movie.” Eddie grabs her hand and she forgets about the room and Buck, at least for the night. 

~~~

Ana meets Buck in stages.

She thought she’d meet him at school, when he came to pick up Christopher, or at the school play, where Christopher was the main character, or at the science fair, or bake sale. All events she knows Buck was there for.

But, she never does. Whether it’s by luck or design, she doesn’t know. But she wishes she had, because she meets Buck, awkwardly, while on a date with Eddie. 

The one night Buck isn’t babysitting Christopher, Eddie’s Abuela watching him after Chris and Eddie’s talk, they run into Buck. 

So, she meets Buck outside of an ice cream shop. 

“Buck.” Eddie freezes beside her and she sees a tall man, taller than she thought with the pictures, with a cone halfway to his mouth. Buck lets out a sheepish smile and shrugs. 

That’s when Ana notices the woman next to Buck, she’s pretty, her red hair is gorgeous, and Ana thinks she looks familiar. 

“Taylor,” Eddie says clipped, in a voice she hasn’t heard from him since the skateboard incident. 

“Eddie,” The woman, Taylor, says just as clipped. 

Ana wonders what she missed. 

“What are you two doing here?” Buck asks and then he holds out his non sticky hand. “Sorry, Eddie’s rude, I’m Buck. You must be Ana.”

She nods and looks between Buck and Eddie who are giving each other eyes. “Yes, hi, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too.” Buck looks at Eddie and realizes no one is going to say anything else so he looks back to Ana.

“Would you two like to join us?” Ana asks out of desperation and Eddie looks at her incredulously. 

Buck looks at Taylor and she nudges him back. “We’d love to, but I have to get back to the station, I’m on nights right now. Next time? Buck and Eddie can schedule something.”

“Sure, bye Eddie. Ana.” Buck nods his head and she smiles at him. As they leave she can hear Taylor and Buck whispering to each other.

“That was awkward Buckley.”

“It’s not my fault he didn’t say anything…” Buck trails off and then they’re too far away to hear anything else.

Ana turns back to Eddie. “They seem like a cute couple.”

“Huh?”

“Buck and Taylor? You didn’t tell me he has a girlfriend.”

“He doesn’t,” Eddie says sharply. “They’re friends.”

“Oh, could’ve fooled me.”

“Why do you say that?” Eddie asks, looking at her for the first time since they ran into Buck.

“They seem close.” Ana shrugs. She doesn’t know why she has to explain anything, or why it would matter if Buck’s dating someone. 

“They, uhh, dated a couple years ago, but I think they’re friends now.” Eddie finally manages.

“Ohh. Okay. Friends with benefits. I get it.”

Eddie chokes on nothing and he looks a little green.

“Edmundo, are you okay?”

“Yeah, lets get that ice cream.” 

She nods and follows him into the ice cream shop, not surprised in the slightest when he orders the same flavor Buck was eating. 

~~~

The second time she meets Buck is at a party in his loft. Everyone is vaccinated and Buck wanted to have everyone over before his sister, Maddie, has her baby. 

Eddie introduces her to everyone; Bobby and Athena, Hen and Karen, Michael and David, Chimney and Maddie, Albert, and then Taylor.

“It’s good to see you again,” Ana says kindly as Eddie goes into the kitchen to grab them drinks. The loft is nice, modern, and looking suspiciously like Eddie’s bedroom, but she keeps that to herself. 

“Hey, not until after dinner. You’re worse than Christopher!” 

Ana looks over as Buck smacks Eddie’s hand with a towel as he tries to sneak cookies and Ana laughs at their antics, although no one else even so much as blinks their way. 

Taylor follows her line of sight and smiles. “Oh, they’re like that. You’ll get used to it.” 

Before Ana can respond she sees Taylor slide up to Buck and helps him with setting up the rest of the food. 

Eddie comes back over to her with a glass of wine and Ana smiles even as she notices Eddie’s face is pinched. 

Before Ana can grab it she spills some on her dress and Eddie curses.

“Shit, sorry Ana.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just grab a towel.”

“Buck, I’m taking her upstairs,” Eddie shouts to Buck and he looks over and nods.

Eddie guides her up the stairs and when she sees Buck’s bedroom, she pauses. It’s almost identical to Eddie’s in style and color. He even has the same photo hanging up on the wall. She says as much and Eddie smiles. 

“Oh yeah, he came to LA for similar reasons so he had one made for his place.”

“Huh.”

“There should be Shout Wipes in the bathroom. Medicine cabinet.” Eddie points to the bathroom as he sits down on Buck’s bed like he has every right to. He probably does. 

“Thanks. I’ll be just a minute.” 

Ana closes the door and finds a towel, wetting the stain first and then finding the wipes. As she cleans, she notices the meds in the bathroom. 

She knows she shouldn’t snoop but seeing Chris’ name on one of the bottles surprises her. It looks like Buck keeps extra medicine here for backup. She notices painkillers and Eddie’s favorite brand of shaving cream. 

Feeling like she’s crossed some sort of boundary she closes the medicine cabinet and is about to head back out when she hears voices from the room.

“You spill on yourself, too?” Eddie jokes and Buck groans.

“Albert ran right into me with the dip.”

“Sucks.”

“Seriously. I can’t wait til he leaves.”

“He could go back home, you know,” Eddie says gently as Ana hears what is likely a shirt being thrown in a hamper.

“I’m not gonna do that to Maddie.” Buck moves around and then asks. “Which one? Red or blue?”

“Blue, definitely,” Eddie responds and Ana can’t see them but she has to agree, whatever blue shirt Buck puts on will bring out his eyes.

“Good, I think this red shirt is actually yours.”

Eddie laughs and Ana pauses a moment because she’s never heard that laugh before. Part fond, part exasperated. She wonders why he laughs like that with Buck. 

“Makes sense.”

“Okay, come down when you’re done, I can’t have Albert setting my kitchen on fire.”

Ana can hear Buck heading down the stairs so she leaves the bathroom. Eddie stands to come closer and she accidentally blurts out what she’s thinking. 

“You have clothes here?”

“Huh? Oh, well I did live here for a couple of months, but with the firehouse and everything we all probably have each other’s clothes.”

Eddie says it so nonchalantly that Ana can’t even respond as he heads towards the stairs. He turns to look at her.

“Coming?”

“Yeah, sorry.” She doesn’t think it’s nonchalant at all. 

~~~ 

Ana meets Evan all at once. 

It’s her first night staying over at Eddie’s, with Christopher at Hen’s house for a sleepover of his own. 

She isn’t sure what wakes her up until she hears Eddie’s sleep rough voice.

“Evan?”

Who’s Evan? 

“Yeah, no, we’ll be there.” Eddie pauses as he sits up. “Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Eddie hangs up and looks at her sheepishly. 

“Is everything okay?” She asks as she sits up as well. 

“Yeah, Maddie’s gone into labor, so I was gonna head to the hospital.”

Huh? Eddie isn’t family, why is he going to the hospital?

“Okay. Let’s go,” Ana says instead of asking that question. 

“Are you sure? I can drop you off first.”

“No, it’s fine, we can go.” 

Plus this is a way for her to assert herself as an important person in Eddie’s life. 

“Thanks,” Eddie say, relieved, as he starts getting dressed. 

Ana follows suit and when they finally head to the hospital Eddie’s a bundle of nerves.

“She’ll be okay,” Ana says quietly as she places a hand on his leg. He nods but he doesn’t relax. 

He doesn’t relax, that is, until he sees Buck in the waiting room. 

“Evan,” Eddie breathes out as they hug. Ana’s momentarily shocked, because Eddie isn’t overly affectionate with anyone other than Christopher, but he hugs Buck like it’s a normal thing. 

Both of them calm down when they hug and then it hits her that Eddie called Buck ‘Evan’. She’s never heard someone call him that, but it must be his first name. 

She wonders when Eddie got that privilege. 

She feels like she’s intruding so she taps Eddie’s shoulder and he turns toward her. 

“I’m gonna grab coffee, you two want anything?” 

Buck smiles at her but Eddie answers her. 

“Black with cream for me, sugar and cream for Buck.”

“Okay.” Ana walks away and turns around just to see Eddie and Buck sitting down and bringing their foreheads together, almost unconsciously. 

“Oh, Ana, hey.”

Ana turns and sees Chimney.

“Chimney, hi. How’s Maddie?”

“She’s good. I’m grabbing her water. And waiting for Albert to get here. I take it you came with Eddie?” 

“Yeah. Is the whole station coming?” Ana asks even though she thinks she knows the answer.

“No. Only family. Hen and Bobby said they’d stop by after she’s born,” Chimney responds and then he’s quickly turning back towards the rooms. “Tell Albert when you see him that he comes in second since he’s late.”

“Sure,” Ana says quietly as she takes the coffee back to Buck and Eddie. After they grab theirs she sits next to Eddie and sees what they’re looking at on Eddie’s phone. 

“Is that Christopher?” She asks and Eddie nods.

“Yeah, I got so many photos of him when he was this age,” Eddie speaks quietly and Ana realizes that he got sent photos of Christopher because this must’ve been when he was deployed with the Army. He doesn’t talk about it much but she can tell Buck knows because Buck squeezes Eddie’s knee in support. 

The biggest shocker, though, is when Eddie grabs Buck’s hand and squeezes back.  

She once again feels like she’s intruding on something private, something theirs, and she doesn’t know what to do. 

Luckily she doesn’t have to think too much because Albert comes running in and he and Buck start arguing over who’s going to go in first, who’s going to be the better uncle. 

“Should we?” Ana gestures to them and Eddie shakes his head.

“Nah, they’re fine. This is fun for them.”

Ana nods and sits back to drink her coffee. Before she knows it, Chimney’s back in the waiting room telling them that Maddie and baby are fine and that they can all come meet her. 

Buck and Eddie jump up and Ana trails behind with Albert. 

“You don’t want to run in there?” She asks Albert.

“Oh I do, but I don’t want to overwhelm Maddie.”

Ana nods and keeps walking towards the room. When she gets there what she sees stops her in her tracks. 

Buck is holding his niece and Eddie, well, Eddie is staring at him with so much love, adoration, and abject want that Ana feels like she’s intruding. 

Eddie turns to her and holds out his phone. “Can you take a picture? I promised Chis I would show him before he meets her.”

“Sure,” Ana says like she’s underwater. Eddie’s lockscreen, a picture of Buck and Chris, barely registers. 

She hears the baby's name, Kylee Danielle, after her uncles, and watches as Buck tears up, and Eddie grabs the back of his neck. 

She then watches Buck pass Kylee to Eddie, and if she wasn’t so shocked she would notice the way Buck was watching him, the way Maddie was watching her, and the way Albert was videotaping everything. 

She would notice that Eddie looked damn good holding a baby. 

If she didn’t feel like she was intruding on a private family moment. 

She doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong with Eddie. 

She looks toward Maddie and Chimney, Maddie has kind but sad eyes looking at her and Ana knows now that she’s not who Eddie is meant to be with. 

“Congratulations,” Ana says quietly. “Eddie, I’m gonna go.”

“You don’t have to go,” Eddie says as he hands Kylee to Albert.

“I do. It’s okay, I’ll call you.”

It shouldn’t surprise her when he nods and turns back to the others but it does. 

She nods to Maddie and Chimney and then to Buck, who’s looking at her with an odd expression on his face. 

“It was nice to see you again, Evan,” Ana says and she hears his breath catch. 

She calls an Uber, waits outside for it, and when she finally gets home, she realizes she took some photos on her phone, too.

Ana looks at them, sees Eddie and Buck, looking like they belong together, and sends them to Eddie with the text ‘you have a beautiful family.’ 

~~~

Ana learns about Edmundo and Evan Buckley-Diaz when she gets a change of name form for one Christopher Buckley-Diaz. 

Along with the name form is an official form of guardianship for Buck, declaring him Christopher’s other father. 

~~~

Years later Ana learns about Ellie Buckley-Diaz when her fathers drop her off for her first day of kindergarten. 

“Eddie. Buck. Hi,” Ana greets them as they come out of the front office, paperwork in hand and an excited five year old bouncing on her toes. 

“Ana,” Eddie says warmly and Buck smiles. “Principal now?”

“Yeah, for a couple of years.”

“Congrats.” Eddie smiles and then turns to his daughter who pulls on his shirt sleeve. 

“Daddy, I want to see my classroom.” 

“I’ll take you,” Buck responds and gives Ana a smile. He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder once and then takes Ellie’s hand. 

“Papa! We have to see it right now!” 

“Okay, okay, little monster, we will,” Buck chuckles after her. 

Ana turns back to Eddie and he smiles after them and then turns to her. 

“I’m happy for you,” Ana says and Eddie looks at her curiously.

“Thank you. I am sorry about how…”

“Water under the bridge.” Ana waves her hand and points to a photo of her and her son, Milo, and Eddie smiles. 

“He’s beautiful.”

“Your daughter is, too.” Ana wants to say she looks like a perfect mix between the two of them but she keeps those thoughts to herself. 

They’ve never been close enough for that kind of conversation. 

“Thank you. She’s certainly energetic, takes after Evan,” Eddie says this with such fondness that Ana’s thrown back to the hospital when Kylee was born, and how he looked at Buck even then. 

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“Nope. Well, it was good to see you, I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”

“Yeah, of course.” Ana smiles as he walks away, towards his family.

Ana looks at the photo of her son again. 

Learning all of these things about these great people led her to her greatest joy. 

She can’t be mad about that. 

[ravenadottir]

what do you think the characters would be doing after the show/how would they be using their platform? for example, i think lottie would be using hers to give people astrology readings and stuff and i think the season 3 mc would be sooo problematic online

ok but you know what? definitely! s3 mc would be causing the stir she wanted to in the villa and couldn't. i'm almost certain she would be raging and saying absurd things to get attention, something like gabby hana you know? BIG YIKES.

one thing is certain... all of them (purposely or not) would be making thirst traps... and definitely supporting masks and registering to vote. so that's a certainty for almost all of them.

lottie. witchtok constantly. not necessarily giving readings but she would be an apologist and majority on that tag. her instagram would be split into two accounts: one for her personal endeavours like thirst traps and *looks of the day*, and a second for her brand as a makeup artist/personal stylist. cause i think that would be so fucking cool! lottie knows how to perpetuate her personal brand and would use social media for that as well. here's some edits i did in the past to explain it better. i headcanon a collab with elisa for wigs that they would both wear on social media, so that's something i really like! plus, advocating for women's rights, especially when a male politician says something dumb, so you know, EVERY SINGLE DAY.

bobby. in the middle of the pandemic? can't help thinking he would be doing some humorous videos, but in my head they're not the funny type. just some cringey ones... don't get me wrong, but bobby is only funny when he's not trying to, and in social media he strikes me as the type that not only makes videos but also puts the towel over his head to play a girl, so that's probably the majority of his content. some food of course, and DEFINITELY some *cute* selfies that he knows it works as thirst traps. i think he talks about registering to vote and blm, but doesn't give his opinion on anything else, politics wise. here's bobby's feed for the rest.

gary. i'm not thrilled to inform that gary would be thirst trapping all the time. now that he's relatively famous there's no reason why not posting those pics and videos. between tik tok trends to show off his muscles, and instagram to... well, do that exact same thing, he might take some time to show nan and the soup kitchen, but overall... thirst traps. possibly being blunt about masks and registering but his content is very closed off. also, he will get a dog and encourage people to adopt. there's a lot of pranks on dicky and vice versa, so that's something i thought for his social media, just couldn't find a good faceclaim that has a variety of pics.

lucas. mostly bringing awareness about covid and the use of masks, probably pointing it out a couple of political disputes, and definitely advising people to be careful about their votes all around the world. i like to think he's a huge advocate for legalization of a certain practice that women have to beg to have (you know the one), and i think he knows exactly how to make a thirst trap without making one. stop asian hate and blm carrds present, and often giving his followers the incentive to donate. DEFINITELY 'look of the day' for at least the weekend, and lots and lots of landscape from the places he's been visiting or wishing to.

henrik. he's everywhere and he takes his phone to talk about it. no doubt henrik is having the time of his life by travelling alone, or with his wife, and doing lives at all times. i think you would see him doing lives in the middle of the night, or watching the sunset/sunrise with his followers, besides making his *questionable* forest foraging and recipes. survival videos? MOST LIKELY THAN YOU THINK. here's his social media, where i covered mostly of what his relationship would like on instagram. (heavily based off "beyond the hill").

carl. the amount of rpg on his stories? immaculate. chess? you bet! lots and lots of carl's launchings for his company, which does have a separate account but he can't quite separate himself from it and it shows on his feed. his relationship would be discreetly displayed with cryptic captions since he's not so sentimental. here's his feed with some personal things he would be encouraged to post and boost that confidence of his.

anon that asked for more hannah stuff, this is for you:

hannah. i have one for her because i do like her aesthetic. don't mind the faceclaim, it was the only one i could find in so many situations. horses, books, some *cute* selfies, travelling pics and more. on tiktok definitely booktok, no doubt about it. she might do a lot of the "telling the story of my book as a story time" trend to promote it and say "technically it's real life."

elisa. it's all about branding and she knows how to do it well! some influencers might not get political because of how they can be perceived but i think elisa doesn't give a flying fuck about that. she talks often about blm and vaccines on her stories. i get a jackie aina vibe from her when talking about brands that support/encourage dark skin models and influencers, so that's a plus. she will give shit to a makeup brand that doesn't care for shade range and won't hide her feelings about it. here's her usual feed, with looks and tours (that i'm certain she would do a lot). i also think she'll eventually cave and have a brand of wigs, clothes and makeup, AS SHE SHOULD.

hope. there's no question about her activism on social media and i like to imagine she would be speaking up against anti-vaxxers and racism, mostly. just like yewande, she would probably talk about every time she felt the show might've favoured people that don't look like her. we would be getting the hot tea on everything since she's so honest. there's also lots of looks and promoting her friends' products because she supports them so much. priya's clothing line, elisa x lottie collab, etc. here's the feed i made for her a while ago.

chelsea. she might not be that deep into politics but she'll talk about covid and how people should be more careful about it, "wearing all these cute masks my babes lozza made for us!". LOTS of *look of the day* and tours on the spaces she decorates, besides the behind the scenes of parties and weddings (of ex-islanders) that i know she would throw. her feed also includes her closet, supporting her friends' endeavours and promoting them, besides some random mug collection shots and FOR SURE a pug selfie with mc.

priya. there's not much to say except for the occasional thirst trap (with those amazing thigh, ffs she should), lots of vaccine warnings, definitely political anecdotes and her clothing brand. i love to think she would have an actual boutique once things get settled after covid, and she would use social media to promote every line. her feed consists mostly of her travelling, designs, supporting the girls and her photoshoots.

kassam. lots and lots of backstage photos and that *prickly* way of demanding people to use their brains and wear a mask, besides getting the vaccine. in studio or just before the stage, selfies with a clothing line with his logo and definitely pics with islanders he didn't get to meet but is now friends with. during covid he would be using his lives to play for his followers, like lots of dj's and musicians i've seen doing on reddit and tiktok, probably called "late night music" or something like that. encouraging followers to donate for causes as well.

noah. not so huge on social media, might be the most discrete of them all. there would be lots and lots of pictures of the mornings before he opens the library, because i sincerely think he would keep his job. not the most outspoken about certain matters but carrds like the blm's and 'stop asian hate''s are on all of his bio's. i do like to imagine him taking selfies with the boys from the show, like ibrahim. he would be so present in noah's feed it's not even funny. the casual "cute unintentional" thirst trap too. family photos from ages ago and lots of his siblings as well. he does love to write long captions for whenever he posts his girlfriend. one thing though, during the first few months on the outside, he wouldn't be so present, afraid of facing the bashing on him if he got with mc in the show. that could be a reason for him to stay away until people "forget" about it.

marisol. SO - MANY - SUITS - SELFIES it makes me cry happy tears. between advocating for women's rights in a more technical way, she would definitely be using her platform to also talk about lgbtq+, especially after the realization she had during her journey. lots and lots of activism about those things, and i think she would be doing a fine job. definitely promoting the girls' products/services and an occasional thirst trap with a braless suit look.

rocco. covidiot. (i just wanted to use this nickname one more time). he might get a hard time from followers and villa buddies because of his stance on vaccines. i just hope he reads some articles instead of sharing bibity-bobity-bullshit on facebook and instagram. there's lots of vaccine memes on his comment sections no matter what he posts though. it's gonna take a while for the public to move on.

[a-tomb-with-a-view]

for the first sentence thing :)) "And what exactly did you think was going to happen, when you decided to do this?"

Hiya lottie, thankies for the ask! (Send me any sentences and I’ll write a short fic from it :)) have some boblexie

“And what exactly did you think was going to happen, when you decided to do this?”

Alex is struck suddenly with the realisation that Luke has finally taken his place, stood in front of the kitchen table with his hands firmly on his hips, not at all regulating his volume despite the fact that Alex knows Luke exactly how painful every damn word is. He shrugs helplessly, groaning at the wave of nausea that rolls through him. “I don’t know,” he complains, keeping his eyes trained on the box of Bobby’s cereal on the counter. “It seemed like a good idea at the time!”

“So let me get this straight,” Luke says slowly, letting go of his hip to pull Reggie against him when his boyfriend appears in the kitchen doorway. “You thought that getting incredibly drunk was the best way to deal with introducing your boyfriend and the guy you’ve been in love with since sixth grade?”

Alex doesn’t bother to deign that with a response. Honestly, he’d thought introducing Bobby and Willie was the worst idea ever, but Luke and Julie and Reggie had insisted that he’d only hurt both of them by putting it off, seeing as they’d been introduced before Alex had even gathered the courage to ask Willie out.

So he’d… prepared.

And maybe those preparations shouldn’t have involved daring Bobby to see which of them could get through the most shots before they tapped out, but in Alex’s defence, it had certainly helped relax him.

“I’m not in love with Bobby,” he said instead. “We’ve been over this.”

“Oh don’t even try that.” Julie wormed her way between Luke and Reggie, tilting her head up until the both obligingly kissed her cheek. “And your guest is doing just fine by the way, Bee’s holding their hair back while they throw up.”

Alex groaned again, letting himself pitch forward until his forehead made contact with the table. “Do you think they’ll hate me forever?”

“For what?” Reggie asked, tone far too innocently. Alex opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Reggie continued. “I mean, you only rambled for half an hour about being in love with both of them but not being sure why to do about it. I’m sure they’ll be totally fine with you dropping them on that after you drank half our vodka and convinced Bobby to have near the same in whiskey.”

“They won’t hate you,” Julie promised, flicking Reggie’s cheek. “I don’t know if you remember, seeing how gone you were, but you all fell asleep curled up together.”

“We have photos!” Luke chimed in, apparently done with telling Alex off. “They’re very cute.”

“We’re thinking sunset curve merch,” Reggie agreed. “To prove we’re for the gay agenda and all that.”

“Two poly relationships, that’ll make us popular,” Alex said faintly, relishing in the cold radiating from where his forehead was pressed against the table. “Super gay.”

Bobby appeared in the doorway, making room for Willie to squeeze in next to him. “You done panicking now?” He asked, voice rough probably from both sleep and the insane amounts of neat whiskey he’d drank the night before.

Alex sat up slowly, wincing when his stomach protested. “No.”

Luke glared at him.

He sighed and stood up, something warm flaring in his chest at the sight of Willie and Bobby curled against each other in the doorway. If he were any more sober, or maybe any more drunk, he’d probably start waxing poetic about his oldest and newest loves, but instead he just shuffled towards them, like some sort of zombie.

“Yeah.”

[michelangelinden]

A coffee order doesn’t tell you someone’s sexuality (but it kind of really does)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @iti-iskuna I WROTE THIS FOR YOU I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

this is a willex coffee shop au because there aren’t enough already! (Thank you @sunsetcurbed for beta reading ily)

(6.2k words, link for ao3 is in the reblogs)

„Honey, I’m home,“ Luke calls as he strides into the apartment.

Alex groans loudly as a greeting. He doesn’t want to get up from the couch. His position isn’t very comfortable – his face is pressed into the armrest, his neck at a very awkward angle – but he needs to lie like this to mope correctly.

“Why isn’t dinner on the table yet? What are you doing in the living room?” Alex lifts his head to stare at him. “Sorry,” Luke says quickly and comes over. He drops his backpack by the coffee table and Alex pushes himself up so that Luke can sit on the couch and Alex can lie back down over his lap. Luke begins to gently card his hands through Alex’s hair.

“Why are you moping?” he asks, scratching Alex’ scalp and he feels himself relax a little.

“You know how I work at the coffee shop down Wilshire Boulevard?” he begins and Luke chuckles.

“Yes, I am in fact aware of that job. Pays our rent.”

“Right. Get a job, by the way.” Alex turns his body so that he’s lying on his back and his face isn’t squished by the cushion.

“I’m working on that. Continue.” Luke starts pushing Alex’ hair out of his face.

“Anyways. So, you know how I meet a shit load of people every day. Like, we have our regulars, but we have a lot of new people coming in, too.”

“Let me guess,” Luke interrupts him, “cute boy?” Alex groans again in response and raises a hand over his eyes.

“So cute. You have no idea.”  

“You’re gonna tell me about him.” It’s not a question. Luke already knows what’s coming.

“I sure am, close your eyes.” Alex peers up at him but the angle doesn’t let him see if Luke actually did as he was told. “Are they closed?”

“They’re closed.”

“Alright, picture this.” Alex thinks back to the situation from this afternoon. “I’m just chilling behind the counter, wiping the same spot for like three minutes straight, ‘cause I’m so bored, it’s a Tuesday afternoon, you know the drill.” Luke nods. “Flynn said some stupid shit, as she does, I’m laughing, and the bell above the door rings. So, I whip around, a little surprised, because, you know, Tuesday afternoons are always super lame and no one gets coffee –“ there’s a bite of pain his side “– hey!”

“Get on with it.”

“Chill. Okay. So, I turn around and in walks this absolute god of a man.” Alex takes a moment to envision him again. “Long, dark hair, black shorts, a skateboard under his arm, tie-dye shirt that’s, get this,” Alex pauses, “cropped.”

“Oh shit,” Luke gasps, rightfully so, that has been a damn sight for Alex’s sore eyes.

“YES! And he just strolls into the shop like it’s no big deal, like I’m not dying behind the espresso machine just looking at him.”

“Did you greet him?”

“I didn’t, at first, I was too stunned by the inch of skin visible above the shorts.” Luke laughs because that definitely hasn’t been the first occasion that Alex has been stunned into silence by the looks of a cute boy. “But Flynn pushed me and I had to serve him.”

“And?”

Alex frowns.

“What?”

Luke sighs.

“What’s his name?”

“Oh. Yeah, I didn’t ask.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Luke looks down at him, his eyes now open and his eyebrows in a deep frown.

“It’s a Tuesday afternoon, the shop was empty! I can’t just ask him for his name if he’s the only one there,” Alex exclaims, gesturing wildly, before hesitating. “He’d think I’m a creep,” he concludes.

“But now he just thinks you’re not interested in him!” Luke counters.

“Good! He’s not supposed to.” He glares at him. “He’s a customer, Luke, I have rules.” He groans again. “Hell, I don’t even know if he likes men.”

“What did he order?”

“Vanilla cold brew.” Luke squints his eyes at him until he continues. “With oat milk.”

“He’s gay,” Luke says with a satisfied nod.

Alex scoffs.

“What? Luke, someone’s coffee order doesn’t –“

“Have you ever had a customer order a vanilla cold brew with oat milk that gave you heterosexual vibes?”

Luke raises his eyebrows at Alex, who frowns in concentration. Then he sighs.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Told you!”

Alex grumps.

“Maybe he’ll come back,” Luke offers, patting Alex’s chest consolingly.

“God, I hope he doesn’t,” Alex answers, but at Luke’s confused face he quickly adds, “I’d combust if I had to see him again.”

Luke makes his ‘that’s fair’ face. Alex drops his arm over his eyes again, trying to block out reality.

The front door opens again, a fresh gust of wind blowing over Alex’s face and he lifts his arm. Reggie’s face pops up in his vision, sporting a bright grin, but it turns into a concerned frown when he spots his roommates on the couch.

“Oh no,” he starts, stopping in his tracks, “why are you in the ‘Alex is sad’ position?”

“I’m not sad, Reggie, just gay,” Alex answers him tiredly.

“Oh my god, same,” Reggie exclaims loudly.

He lifts Alex’s legs and drops himself onto the couch next to Luke, draping them over his own lap. Alex turns so that his face is pushed into Luke’s stomach. Luke gives a small ‘oof’-sound in surprise but starts stroking Alex’s hair again.

“Bobby took me to the petting zoo to pet some goats and it was really cute and he was really cute and I was so excited and he took a photo of me and called me ‘Boo’ and –“

Alex closes his eyes. He really loves Reggie but he can’t really handle listening to him gush about his almost-boyfriend-but-also-not-really-boyfriend-but-actually-definitely-his-boyfriend while he’s still moping.

So, he tunes him out, presses his face further into Luke’s stomach, and lets him handle the situation.

 ***

 It’s another Tuesday afternoon and Alex is fucking bored. The shop has been a desert for the better part of his shift – he’s had like three customers and none of them wanted cool fancy drinks but instead something like ‘a coffee, black’ or ‘a green tea, please’.

Not that there is anything wrong with liking black coffee or green tea, but the least his three customers could do for him is ordering something fun for him to make that requires more than pressing a single button. Especially when it’s a Tuesday afternoon.

Flynn is on her break in the back, talking to her girlfriend Carrie on the phone, but Alex doesn’t mind that she left him alone; it’s not like they have anything to do anyways. And when she uses her break to talk to Carrie, the amount of time she spends to talk about her is much shorter, which Alex appreciates. He loves Flynn and Carrie both, but they’ve been dating for two years now and act like an old married couple which can get hella annoying hella fast.

He’s standing behind the counter, sharpie in one hand, drawing random doodles on the paper cup in his other. He’d started with a ghost, that’s his go-to drawing when he’s bored, but now it has four friends, three dogs, a small drum set, a microphone and two failed attempts at a guitar.

When the bell chimes and the door opens, Alex lifts his head and he almost drops his pen.

It’s the boy from last week – hair down, shirt cropped, a skateboard in hand.  And he’s headed his ways.

Alex looks over his shoulder to check if Flynn finished her break and magically appeared behind him but nope, he can still hear her giggling in the break room.

Fuck, he thinks as he turns back around. He startles when he sees the boy right in front of the counter, smiling at him.

He straightens up and clears his throat quickly, running a hand through his hair, almost tangling the pen in it. He drops it and it hits the counter’s edge before falling to the floor and Alex crouches down at rocket speed to pick it up. When he snaps back up he sees that the boy’s eyes follow every movement, his eyebrows quirked and his lips in a lopsided grin.

“You good?” he asks, his eyes scanning Alex up and down.

He clears his throat again, his mind scrambling for an answer for probably a moment too long.

“Yeah!” he settles on eventually, really rushed and with too much air to be too convincing. “Uh, yeah, sorry,” he continues, tucking the pen in the front pocket of his apron. “I didn’t have a lot of customers today, I didn’t, uh, I didn’t expect you.”

The boy chuckles and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and Alex could combust right then and there. Who gave this man the right?

“Yeah, it’s not very busy right now,” he says, looking around a little. He turns back to Alex. “I was here last week, though.”

“I- yeah. I, uh, I just didn’t expect you to come back.” Alex is so sure his face his bright red from embarrassment. Why can’t he just hold a conversation like a normal person?

“Well,” the boy starts, leaning his board against the front of counter, “I liked your coffee.”

Alex stares at him for a hot second before clearing his throat a third time.

“Anyways, what can I get for you?”

The boy smiles again.

“I’ll have a vanilla cold brew with oat milk, please. The biggest one you have.”

Alex smiles a little at the order but nods, punching the order into the cash register and picking up one of the plastic cups. He contemplates for a second, before pulling the sharpie from his pocket again, starting to push the lid off with his thumb.

“Uh, what’s your name?” he asks carefully. God, he hopes he doesn’t sound creepy.

“I’m the only one here,” the boy answers and Alex half expects him to frown, when he looks up at him, but he’s sporting a small grin.

“Uh,” Alex just says again and mentally kicks himself for it. “Sorry, I-,” he continues, closing the sharpie again and beginning to tuck it back into his apron, when the boy speaks up again.

“It’s Willie,” he says with a smile shining through his voice and Alex blinks at him. “My name is Willie. With ‘ie’.”

Alex looks at him for a second longer than probably appropriate, studies his long, brown hair falling over his shoulders as if carefully draped there; the small golden earring in his right ear, glistening in the afternoon sun shining through the windows; the mischievous glint in his dark eyes as he looks back at Alex. He decides that Willie with ‘ie’ fits perfectly.

Alex smiles at him. He flicks the lid off the sharpie, careful not to send it across the counter, and writes ‘Willie' on the cup in his hand, adding a smiley face after another second of contemplating and deciding that fuck it, he deserves a smiley face.

He moves over to the coffee making station, flipping the lid of the vanilla syrup open and swirling some into the cup with a skilled motion. He adds a scoop of ice and then another, filling the cup almost to the brim. He’s just closed the fridge getting the cold brew when he hears the boy – Willie – speak up again.

“Is this yours?” he asks and when Alex turns to him, pitcher of coffee in hand, he sees that Willie is holding the paper cup full of doodles. “Did you draw these?”

Alex feels an embarrassed blush creep up his cheeks and he looks down again, concentrating on not missing the cup when he fills it with coffee.

“Uh, yeah, I was bored.”

“They’re cute,” Willie says and Alex feels that it’s genuine, the smile noticeable through his words. “I like the ghosts. And the dogs.”

“Thanks,” he answers, not looking up out of fear that Willie might notice his blush.

“What are they called?”

Okay, now Alex does look up, looking at Willie with a frown.

“What?”

“You need to give them names,” Willie tells him as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Really Alex, why haven’t you given them names yet, huh?

“Uh,” he just says, unable to form correct words in his head.

“Can I name them?”

Willie looks at Alex with his eyes sparkling softly, the excitement clear on his face and if the plastic cup full of coffee in hand weren’t for him Alex would crush it for sure.

Can Willie name the doodled ghosts and dogs on his cup? Of course, he fucking can, he can name Alex first born if he asks like that.

“Uh, sure, go ahead.”

He’s so glad he sounds so calm because he’s totally screaming on the inside.

Willie beams at him and turns back to the cup, holding it closer to his face and studying the drawings.

“I’ll call this one George, totally the vibe. And this one – oh, that’s a cool drum set!”

He’s turned the cup over looking at the other side and for a moment Alex feels bad that he has to see his ugly drawn guitars.

“Thanks,” he says anyways, because yes, his drum set did turn out pretty good.

“Do you play?”

Alex’s head snaps up from where he’s pouring oat milk into the cup.

“How- how do you know?”

“You do?” Willie's eyes widen as he looks up at Alex. “Really? That was a wild guess.”

Alex can’t help but grin back at him, Willie's excitement over that revelation infecting him too.

“Yes, I play,” he tells him happily, setting the carton of milk down to not spill anything. “I’m actually in a band too,” he adds because a little promo can’t hurt.

“Dude!” Willie almost yells, leaning over the counter to get closer to Alex. “That’s so cool! What are you called?”

Alex feels pride and excitement bubble up in his chest as it always does when he gets to talk about his band.

“We’re ‘Julie and the Phantoms.’ Tell your friends!”

“Oh, I will! Do you play gigs? Are you on Spotify?”

Alex chuckles a little when Willie pulls his phone out of his pocket eagerly.

“We are, we have an EP out. You should check it out.”

“I definitely will!” Willie taps on his screen before he gasps. “That cover looks so cool!”

“Thank you so much,” Alex says genuinely. “Julie designed it herself.”

Willie looks back up at him, the smile still stuck to his lips.

“Who’s Julie?”

“Oh, our lead singer. She’s honestly the best. You’ll be so impressed when you hear her, I promise.”

They’d all been there when they first heard her sing. That girl has a power that’s not to be underestimated.

“I can’t wait,” Willie answers and his clear voice accompanied by his honest eyes tells Alex that he means it.

For a moment they just stare at each other, both smiling, a blush high on Alex’s cheeks, Willie still holding his doodle cup in one hand and his phone in the other.

It gets awkward after another moment because Alex notices the ice in the cup in his own hand hurting his fingers a little. He pulls his gaze away from Willie and down at the coffee, busying himself with slapping a lid on it.

“Your, uh, your coffee.”

He walks back over to the counter and sets it down in front of Willie, pulling a paper straw from the tall glass next to him and balancing it on top.

“Thanks, uh,” Willie's eyes flick down to the name tag on Alex’s chest, “Alex,” he finishes with a smile. “What do I owe you?”

Oh. Right. Money.

He glances at the cash register.

“$4.55, please. Do you want a receipt?”

“No, thanks,” Willie says. He pushes his hand into the pocket of his shorts and fishes out a $5 bill, sliding it over to Alex.

“Keep the change,” he says while dumping another $1 bill into the tip jar. He grabs the straw and his cup and slowly walks back towards the front door. “I’ll see you around?”

Warmth spreads in Alex’s chest at the thought of seeing Willie again.

“Yeah, definitely.”

Willie smiles at him and salutes him with his drink before he turns and exits the shop.

Alex stares at the closing front door for a moment, watching Willie place his board onto the ground and step on it, pushing off and skating away out of Alex’s sight. When he can’t see him anymore and it doesn’t look like another customer will enter the shop, Alex places his hands on the edge of the counter and leans forward to let out a loud groan towards the floor.

What just happened? Where did Willie come from and why does he make Alex’s insides feel like mush?

This – this – is not okay!

“Ehm, what did I just witness?”

Alex’s head snaps over to Flynn standing in the doorway to the hallway, one hand propped up on her hip, the other holding her phone.

“How long have you been standing there?” Alex asks, not moving from his awkward position at the counter.

“Long enough to watch you fall head over heels for a skater boy.”

Alex gets up straight immediately, holding his hands up in defense.

“I – I didn’t – I’m not in – I didn’t fall – You can’t,” he starts to splutter, taking a step back and bumping his hip against the counter. “What?”

“Sweetie, you had a whole gay panic in the 30 seconds I watched you.”

“What?” he says, his voice raising at least an octave and he clears his throat. “No, I didn’t.”

Flynn doesn’t answer him, just tilts her head and raises an eyebrow.

He groans again because yes, she’s right, he did have a gay panic.

But who can blame him, honestly, when Willie exists with his beautiful hair and his beautiful smile and he’s just strolling into the coffee shop wearing a cropped shirt and –

“Alex!”

His head snaps around to the source of the voice and his eyes lock with his friend Julie, Luke standing behind her.

“Are you okay?” she asks, one hand hovering in the air as if close to reaching out for him.

“Yeah,” he starts, but Flynn butts in and yells “gay panic!” over from where she’s standing behind the espresso machine.

Luke perks up behind Julie, his eyebrows flying up until they’re hidden under his fringe.

“Was it the crop-top boy from last week? Did he come back?” He comes up behind Julie to stand next to her, leaning over the counter to get closer to Alex.

“I –“ he pauses, glancing back at Flynn, who just raises her eyebrows at him. “Yeah,” he answers with a sigh, watching Luke gasp excitedly.

“Did you finally get his name?” Luke asks.

“Wait, what? Who are we talking about?” Julie asks with a frown, looking back and forth between Alex and Luke.

“Alex has a crush on a –“ Luke starts to explain, but Alex cuts him off.

“I do not have a crush on him!”

“Then tell me why you were staring longingly after him just three minutes ago.”

Alex gasps dramatically at Flynn’s betrayal, turning back and glaring at her, but she just glares back at him. He sighs again, turning back to his friends.

“So, there’s this customer, his, uh, his name is Willie.” He pauses for a second for Luke to start vibrating out of excitement about the new information. “He came here for the second time today and – and he’s so beautiful, fuck!” He slumps forward, burying his face in his arms on the counter.

“Oh Alex,” Julie said consolingly but he can hear her smile. He feels her hand patting his hair gently and he lifts his head a little, setting his chin on his forearms.

He’s fucked. He’s so fucked. And Willie is so beautiful, Alex just wants to scream.

 ***

 “No- no Flynn, you can’t – don’t leave me!” Alex argues as Flynn struggles to release his grip. “It’s 3.30, he’ll come any minute now!”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to be here!” she argues back, softly punching him in the stomach to let go of her. It doesn’t hurt but he gets the message and releases her shoulders. “I don’t want to watch you simp over this guy for five minutes while you stretch making his coffee just so you can talk to him.”

She’s calling him out and she’s right. He does take way too long making his drink just to get him to stay a minute longer. But it’s not like he’s harming anyone with it. Most of the times Willie came in in the past month he’s been the only customer and he never seemed to be in a rush, so Alex doesn’t feel bad for pouring the milk in very slowly.

And yes, she’s also right about the simping part, even though he really doesn’t want to admit it. He keeps staring at him when he talks about a topic he’s interested in – art for example, he really likes art – and has to be careful not to spill anything when that happens. It happened once. He’s not proud of it.

But every time he starts to ramble about something he likes his eyes start to sparkle and it seems like he’s glowing and his hands are everywhere and he makes it really hard for Alex to look away.

Willie got him to ramble too, one time, about the band and their music and when Alex looked up from the cup in his hands and at Willie, he saw that he had the brightest smile on his face, teeth shining and his eyes crinkling. Alex had felt the punch in his gut before his brain caught up to him.

Yeah, he does have a crush on Willie, there is no denying it now, as much as he wants to. But there’s not really much he can do about it.

So, he can kind of get why Flynn tries to get on her break. Still.

“I don’t want to be alone with him, Flynn. He’ll say something cute and I’ll start crying.”

“Oh my god!” Flynn lets out an exaggerated groan. “Just – be the responsible one and start flirting with him or something. Tell him he’s cute.”

“I can’t!” he says loudly. “I have anxiety.”

Now it’s Flynn’s turn to put her hands on his shoulders, shaking him a little while she speaks.

“Alex. You’re 20 years old, you pay rent for an apartment, you’re an adult, you play drums in front hundreds of people! You can tell a boy that he looks cute!”

Alex opens his mouth to argue but she shushes him.

“I –“ he tries again but she cuts him off with a “nope” and when he opens his mouth again she finally asks “what?”

“This is different,” he says, very softly, hoping she finally gets his struggle.

She doesn’t.

“Okay, how is this different?”

He groans internally. How do people not get this?

“I – I don’t know, I –“ he breaks off to heave a sigh. “I really like him, okay? I don’t want him to think I’m weird.”

Flynn tuts. Not in the annoyed way, but in the way she does when Julie is being really dense about Luke’s crush on her or when Reggie hurts his foot jumping around while playing bass.

“Alex,” she says slowly, grabbing his face and making him look at her. It’s a little awkward, her being almost a foot smaller than him, but her grip is strong and her message clear.  “He wears crop tops and buys coffee with oat milk. I don’t think there is a single drop of toxic masculinity in him that would make him think it’s weird if you call him cute.”

He stares at her, his head unmoving between her palms, as she glares into his eyes, into his soul. She squeezes his cheeks a little and he chuckles quietly. She smiles at him and releases his face.

“Here,” she says, looking down at her chest and removing the small rainbow pin from her apron. “Maybe this can give you some emotional support.” She fastens the pin to his own chest, right next to his nametag, and puts her hand over it once she’s done.

“You got this!”

“Thank you,” he says genuinely.

The bell above the door chimes and Flynn’s eyes fly over to the entrance.

“Oh, he’s coming,” she whisper-yells, removing her hand and turning on her heel. Alex takes a step forward in panic, trying to get her to stay one last time.

“No, Flynn, please,” he tries but she shakes her head without looking back at him.

“Nope, I’m already leaving, good luck!” She throws him a thumbs up before she disappears around the corner.

Alex stares after her for a moment before turning around slowly, facing the counter and Willie behind it. Willie smiles brightly when their eyes meet, his gaze warm and Alex feels his stomach flip from that alone.

“Hey,” Willie says, “what’s up?”

Oh, nothing, I’m just hopelessly in love with you, Alex thinks but thankfully doesn’t say out loud.

“Nothing,” he answers instead. He steps closer automatically and props himself up with his hands on the edge of the counter, as he always does when Willie comes in. “Just, uh, life, I guess.”

Willie chuckles at that, a strand of hair falling in front of his face and he brushes it back with his hand absentmindedly. Alex follows the motion closely and hopes Willie doesn’t notice him staring.

“Yeah, I get it.”

They both stay silent for a moment before Alex remembers why Willie came here in the first place.

“Coffee,” he blurts before he can stop himself and he leans back to get to the cash register.

“Right,” he hears Willie say and then the sound of him setting his skateboard onto the floor.

“Vanilla cold-brew with oat milk?” Alex asks, his fingers already hovering over the buttons.

“Actually,” Willie starts and Alex looks at him, “I kind of want to try something new today.”

“Oh, sure. Do you already have an idea?”

“Hm, no, not really.” Willie leans forward, settling his palms on the counter, his face turned upwards at the menu above Alex’s head.

“Do you mind if I suggest something?” Alex asks carefully. Willie tilts his head to look at him and smiles.

“No, not at all, please.”

“So, you like sweet things, right?” Willie nods. “Okay, I’d suggest a latte and we got this cool new cinnamon syrup that makes everything taste like cinnamon buns. I can make it iced and with oat milk, too, if you want to.”

Willie's face lights up and he nods excitedly.

“That sounds great, thank you so much,” he comments. Alex bites at his bottom lip for a second but then he smiles, giving himself a second to appreciate Willie's smile before turning to make his drink.

Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Willie leaning forward, his elbows on the counter and resting his face in his palms. He can feel him watching him work, observing his motions of preparing the espresso, swirling the inside of his cup with the cinnamon syrup and filling it with ice. It’s not really something to show off with, but if he could he totally would. When he turns to get the milk from the fridge he catches Willie's gaze, head tilted slightly to the side, and he feels a blush creeping up his cheeks. Knowing someone is watching you is one thing, but seeing it makes it more intense.

“So,” Willie starts to strike up a conversation, “what made you decide to be a barista?”

Alex huffs a laugh, taking the espresso cup and tipping it over the plastic cup.

“It’s really not as exciting as you might think,” he says, setting the empty cup next to the sink and looking at him. “I moved into an apartment with my friends, needed a job, saw that the café was hiring and applied and thankfully I got the job.” He adjusts the straps of his apron as Willie takes a short look around the shop.

“Do you like working here?” he asks when his eyes have settled back on Alex, now slowly pouring the milk into the cup. He’s taking his time, not only to not overfill it, but also to get Willie to stay longer, talk to him longer, to look at him like that for just a little bit longer.

“Yes,” he decides, because it’s true. He does like working here. “Yeah, I really do.”

“What’s your favorite thing about it?” Willie asks, his gentle voice showing genuine interest.

“Oh, that’s hard.”

There are so many things to like about his job. He likes that it always smells like coffee and sugar when he comes in, he likes it when the sun shines in through the glass panels at the front and paints the entire café in golden hues, he likes having his regulars greet him like friends and tell him about their day. And he likes the work too, making coffee, preparing desserts, talking to his coworkers.

But then he knows what to say.

“Probably observing people,” he finally answers, causing Willie to laugh.

“What?”

“Oh, no, I know how it sounds, but not in the creepy way.” He allows Willie to calm down for a second. “I like watching them being here as a part of their daily routine, you know. When they come here before work they’re stressed because they have somewhere to be, but when they come here after work they always stay to chat for a bit.” Willie nods. “And sometimes we have people come in here, order a hot chocolate and a croissant and then they sit here for hours typing on their laptops or writing in notebooks. And there are people going on dates here and there are many friends and families just spending their afternoon and –“ he breaks off, noticing how he’s rambling and spares a glance at Willie.

“Oh, please continue,” he encourages him, the smile on his lips warm and comforting.

“I – I don’t know, I just – I like the idea of being a part of their life, in a way. Giving them something nice to make their day a little better.” He looks down at the drink in front of him. “Even if it’s only an iced cinnamon latte. Do you want whipped cream? It’s vegan.”

“Yes, of course, thank you.” Willie straightens up, pushing his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He watches Alex add whipped cream to his drink, as well as another small swirl of the syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

“Ah, look at how pretty that looks.” Alex carefully takes the cup and places it in front of him on the counter. “Please appreciate it for a second, before I slap a lid on and smush it.”

Willie laughs but leans forward again to take a closer look.

“It looks very nice, excellent swirl, chef’s kiss.” His eyes flick up at Alex and he feels the blush, that has never quite left his cheeks, darken.

“Thanks,” he says with a short laugh.

“I don’t think I need a lid,” Willie says as he leans back again, “but I do need a straw.”

Alex nods, pulling a paper straw from the glass and sticking it into the cup.

“Voila. Now it’s done.” He pushes it a little closer to Willie. “Please try it.”

Willie reaches for it immediately, picking it up slowly to not spill anything. Alex can’t help but stare in anticipation as Willie takes the first sip through the straw. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a satisfied hum and Alex is too busy blushing hard to be proud to have evoked that reaction.

“This is really good,” Willie says after a moment, keeping his eyes closed and taking another sip. “Thank you for recommending it.”

Alex clears his throat, trying to get his brain to focus again.

“Sure. You’re, uh, you’re welcome.” He has to scrunch up his eyes for a second and when he opens them again he sees Willie looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

“You good?” he asks and Alex nods.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m glad you like it.”

“I do, really. How much is it?”

Alex’s brain jumps on again and he moves over to the cash register, tapping in the order.

“$5.20, please. Would you like a receipt?”

Willie shakes his head, setting the cup back onto the counter and pushing his right hand back into his shorts pocket. Alex fiddles with his apron straps again while he waits and adjusts his nametag, too.

When Willie hands him the cash, dropping $2 into the tip jar, his eyes settle on Alex’s chest and a smile on his lips.

“Nice pin, by the way,” he comments, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

Alex, who thought it had stopped, blushed again, looking down at the rainbow pin still on his apron.

“Thanks, it’s my friend Flynn’s.”

He now remembers why he’s wearing it, too. Emotional support. For telling Willie that he looks cute. He can do it, he thinks. But he doesn’t.

“Here’s your change,” Alex says as he hands over a few coins.

Willie nods and a silence forms around them, while they both kind of stare at each other but also kind of don’t. At least Alex tries to hide it, but Willie's eyes bore into his face.

“So,” he starts and Alex can hear his foot scuffing the floor. He’s nervous. “Are you, like, an ally?”

Alex blinks.

What?

Alex didn’t hear him correctly. He can’t have. That can’t be what Willie just asked him.

He blinks again and a concerned frown settles on Willie's face.

“Are you – not an ally?”

What?

“I’m gay.”

Realization dawns on Willie's face. His frown loosens and he opens his mouth slightly.

“Oh,” he says softly. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Alex answers, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Cool.” Willie pauses, nodding. “Me too.”

“Cool,” Alex repeats, to seem causal, but inside his brain he’s yelling gaygaygay on repeat.

Willie stares at him for another moment and Alex tries his best to stare back.

“I’m gonna go now,” Willie says, grabbing his drink and taking a step back.

Alex’s thoughts are a wild mixture of no, please stay, you make everything feel warm and oh my god, please leave, this is getting too awkward, but he doesn’t want to say either of those so he just says “okay” very quietly and mentally kicks himself for it.

So much for telling Willie that he’s cute.

Willie walks backwards a few steps before finally turning, holding his board under his arm and his drink in his hand, to pull the door open. Alex watches him, unmoving behind the counter. Just as Willie's about to step outside, he turns again, still holding the door handle. He closes his eyes for a moment and breathes in and out.

“Hey, uh, if I were gonna ask you out on a date,” he pauses, “would you say yes?”

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

“Yes.”

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

“Okay, cool.” Willie moves to leave again, before stopping once again. “When does your shift end?”

Alex can’t believe this is really happening. He glances back at the clock above the menu.

“In about an hour,” he answers, his voice raising at the end like a question even though he’s never been more sure of anything in his life.

“Okay, cool,” Willie says again and Alex laughs a little. Willie smiles at him.

“I’ll see you then?” Alex asks, just to clarify what Willie seems to imply.

“Totally.”

Alex can’t help but grin back at him.

“Okay, cool,” he repeats Willie's words and this time Willie laughs a little.

Willie takes one last look at him before actually moving out of the door, placing his board onto the ground and stepping on it. He doesn’t push off right away, shooting one last smile at Alex and waiting for him to smile back and wave at him.

Alex’s eyes follow him rolling past the front of the shop. He’s still smiling when he disappears out of his sight and Alex feels like his whole body is glowing.

He grips the straps of his apron, biting back a laugh.

This can’t be real, he thinks, but the condensation of the drink on the counter is real and the tips in the tip jar are real and the blush on his cheeks is real and the date – date – is also real. So very real. Holy fuck.

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 4

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

If you have been reading this series....things are going to start happening....

Title: Dreams, Chapter 4

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3773

Summary: For Sam and the reader, a winter night working together leads to an uncomfortable confrontation and a confusing dream.

Warnings: angst, fluff?, alcohol, swearing, slow burn, I think that’s it!

           The tree was still up a few days later when you were throwing together sandwiches. It was a gloomy afternoon, stealing from the already meager offering of sunlight you got each day, but at least you could see the Christmas lights as you worked in the little kitchen and listened to Me Talk Pretty One Day. Brushing crumbs off your hands, you ducked your head into the bedroom to tell Sam lunch was ready.

           He was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed under him, looking surprisingly young with his long limbs folded. He glanced over at you briefly with a noncommittal nod before turning his gaze back to the wall. You walked into the room when you understood; following his eyes to the photos where you’d taped them up. Toeing off each of your boots, you climbed onto the mattress with him and gently put your arm around his broad shoulders. “He would’ve loved this,” Sam murmured, and it was almost too low for you to hear.

           “Which part?” you asked, trying to match his tone.

           “This cabin, the bar, Christmas.”

           “I think you’re right.”

           You looked over at the pictures, a tight row intentionally placed a little too low so you could see them as you fell asleep. Sam tilted his head to rest on yours.

           “We had a lot of fun though, didn’t we?”

           You considered the memories and the heat coming off of him under your cold fingers. “Yeah, we did.” After a beat you opened your mouth again. “Getting that tree was fun.”

           Sam pulled back and you looked up at him. A sad smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

           You curved your head back into him. “Dean would’ve liked that too.” He was silent for a moment.

           “There’s no way he would’ve worked at the bar and not made every night a party.”

           He was right. Even just passing through, bars like the one you worked at were Dean’s favorite—no frills, honest people, décor not so nice it couldn’t tolerate some spills in the name of a good time. In the right mood Dean would’ve been everyone’s best friend in an hour, taking shots with the owners and playing pool with anyone who had a spare minute.

           You sat upright and tucked your hair behind your ears. “Okay, then tonight’ll be a party.”

           Sam looked at you in surprise. “Uh, what?”

           “You heard me. Tonight, we’re doing tequila shots and dancing on tables and talking to people longer than to take their orders.”

           “It’s a Monday.”

           “Wouldn’t have stopped Dean. Now come eat this sandwich I slaved over, you’re a lightweight on an empty stomach.”

           Sam’s smile was tired, but he obediently untangled his legs and got off the bed to head to the kitchen. You padded after him, letting a deep breath out through your nose. Dean would be so pissed if he saw you weren’t being strong for Sammy, just a little tougher, come on. By the time Sam sat down at the tiny breakfast bar to eat, you’d screwed your face back together.

           In some ways, it was better that you’d had this sudden change of heart on a Monday, when there weren’t so many customers to watch you crumble if it came to that. You had a propensity for being a sad drunk even in the best circumstances, and this first time truly drinking around people since losing Dean was about the worst circumstance as you could imagine.

           A few shots in Sam’s cheeks were flushed and you could feel the heat in yours as you sucked hard on a lime wedge. He was pretending to know about some football controversy with the over-shoulder towel that was ever present when he worked, his legs crossed and accentuating the long, relaxed line of his body. It was an especially cold night and condensation clouded the windows of the bar where hot air met the freezing glass. You watched as a woman about your age—you were pretty sure her name was Megan but had only served her a handful of times—traced lazy shapes in it before replacing the moisture with a hot breath and starting over. It was almost hypnotic and you didn’t know how long it was until you snapped back to reality when Sam’s warm hands wrapped over your shoulders.

           “You okay?” he asked, low and private, straight into your ear.

           “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just tired,” you lied.

           Sam gently and half-consciously kneaded the muscles in your shoulders. Before you realized what you were doing, muscle memory bobbed your head to the side, kissed his rough knuckles, and pressed your cheek to his hand. You both froze.

           “Aw, so cute,” Steve sang out from across the bar top.

           You took your chance to step forward out of Sam’s grip. “Yeah, yeah. Refill?” Steve nodded, and you snatched another Miller High Life out of a mini fridge under the bar and popped the cap with a fluid practiced motion. About a week ago you’d realized that the twist-bottle callus you had just below the first joint of your index finger had come back, a recurrent souvenir that had lasted years after you’d quit bartending last time. You were thankful for it as much as the distraction from your bizarre reflexive step over the unspoken boundary between you and Sam. It wasn’t that the contact was unprecedented, obviously, you could only catch even chunks of sleep tightly wound around Sam and kept your fingers wrapped around his forearm as he drove, but Dean was the last person whose skin your lips had touched. Until now, you corrected yourself. It was a very specific kind of closeness in a relationship already stretching the limits of what appropriate intimacy could possibly be.

           You jammed a cold metal scoop into the ice machine to break up chunks and buy some time. The same grief-hungry part of your brain that searched Sam for facial tics and habits that Dean had couldn’t stop repeating how much those hands felt the same, dry and warm and firm under your lips, under your cheek, and you wanted to clutch at them, a phantom of Dean’s that first stitched you up in Bobby’s kitchen all those years ago when life was easy and bloody, so nervous to touch you his hands shook and the scar still remained to this day. You crashed through those thoughts with a solid thump of This Is Sam Not Dean Sam Your Friend Sam The Only Thing You Have In This World, and how cruel it was to triple distill him down to only the parts that were reminiscent of someone else. Sam, who chopped wood to keep you warm, who restocked beer in the little life you’d created here. Sam, who in his own unfathomable sadness let you latch onto him as a steady point in a storm and kept you afloat just as you had him.

           “Hello?” Joe repeated, a touch of concern peeking through his annoyance.

           “Yeah, sorry! What’s up?” you asked, hearing the shrillness of your voice as you tried to overcompensate.

           “I’m trying to buy you a drink, hon. 5 shots, dealer’s choice.”

           “You, me, Jake, Steve and who?” you asked, racking up 5 sturdy shot glasses.

           “Your Paul Bunyan over there, unless you’re trying to take his too. I’ve never seen you guys really drink before, gotta jump on my chance,” he winked.

           “Oh, okay. Uh, Sam—” you called out across the bar. He was wiping up a spill you knew didn’t exist from the way he focused too hard on the bar top, trying to look busy. He looked up at his name and walked over with his hands jammed in his pockets. His unease was palpable, and your heart sank as you let go of any possibility that he wouldn’t have registered the fleeting kiss and the shift was only in your head. “—Joe’s trying to get you drunk.”

           “Careful, Joe, you think you can carry me home?” Sam joked, and you thought you would be the only one who’d be able to detect the tightness in his throat underneath it. He rubbed a lime wedge on the web of his thumb and poured salt over it before handing you the shaker. You almost dropped it when your fingertips grazed his.

           “To the only people dumb enough to move up here in the winter,” Steve proclaimed, touching his glass to the counter before shooting it. You all followed suit, politely chuckling at the teasing. When you took the lime wedge out of your mouth, Sam had his palm open in front of you. You dropped the rind in his hand and let him take the stack of glasses to the sink.

           It didn’t get as crazy as Dean likely would’ve gotten which was probably good for the bar’s bottom line and your drive back to the cabin, but Sam did end up somewhat accidentally hustling Jake for $100 over a game of pool and singing along to Shania Twain when you put it on. You were careful not to touch him or stare too long the rest of the evening, and by the time you were flipping chairs up for the night you had almost convinced yourself that nothing was different save for a little softness around the edges of the ever-present bolus of sadness in your stomach.

           Sam had two cases of Miller Lite from the basement in his grip, the veins on his forearms popping out as he set them on the ground in front of the beer cooler and crouched to replace the ones that had been drunk that night. You double checked that the cash drawer of the register was even and hopped up to sit on a spare spot of counter.

           “That’s the last one?”

           “Yeah, I already did the Coors and Bud.”

           “Are you good to drive or do you want me to?” You wiggled your toes in your shoes, feeling the ache of standing for hours in the balls of your feet.

           “No, I’m good to drive,” Sam said, shaking hair out of his face. He looked up at you, hazel eyes hard to read with fatigue or fear or pity or some murky combination thereof. You drew tight spirals over orders you’d taken that night, feeling the pen press impressions into the small notepad. The absence of words spread out to close the distance between you, feeling cloying and claustrophobic even as the Nate Bargatze standup you’d cued up piped out through the bar’s speakers.

           “Hey, I—”

           “Are you—” Sam started at the same time. You held out a palm to signal for him to continue, not truly wanting to speak yourself. “Uh, sorry. I just…I—I’m not Dean. I can’t be Dean.”

           The words and deflation in his shoulders made you wish you’d been set ablaze. Stunned, you felt your mouth open and close around words that weren’t materializing, just collecting in your throat and hardening there, the backup starting to choke you.

           “I, uh—I know,” you finally managed to squeak past the lump.

           And part of you wondered if he was right in thinking you were using him as a stand-in. As atypical as the whole situation was, you couldn’t imagine that it was normal to sleep in the same bed and spend virtually every minute together. You began to feel sick at the thought that Sam would be out living up to his potential somewhere if it weren’t for you, back to law school or righting the wrongs of the world rather than in a Northwoods dive bar restocking domestic beers at 2:30 on a Tuesday morning. The selflessness of it seemed unfathomable and yet so entirely something Sam would do. Suddenly it felt like the walls were collapsing around you.

           The moment stretched out and Sam stood up, leaning on the counter across the bar from you. His jaw was set hard and he tilted his head the way he did when he was trying to stop himself from teetering over the edge of tears. “Sam, I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

           He cleared his throat but looked down at the nonstick mats on the floor. “No, ah, you don’t need to apologize. I just need you to know I can’t be him for you.”

           You didn’t dare look up in case you met Sam’s eyes as you nodded, so eviscerated and humiliated you were having a hard time taking a deep breath. After a long minute you heard the clink of bottles as Sam finished restocking, grabbed your coat to mumble something about warming up the car, and went to the small parking lot. You managed to make it into the Impala before your vision started swimming and the potential enormity of the situation crashed against you; was this the end of your carved out hideaway, full of grief and memories and comfort and little moments of affection and joy you had just barely started to accept? All for some stupid thought that Dean would be happier if you were out getting wasted, an idea that reduced him to a drifter barfly instead of the complex man who’d been more loyal and loved more deeply than anyone you’d ever met. The tears dried up quickly as self-disgust rolled over you and started ringing in your ears. You didn’t hear Sam coming and jolted when he opened the door, recoiling against the passenger side to give him as much space as possible. He glanced over at you with eyes so pitying that you couldn’t bear to look at them, staring out the window at the abject darkness the rest of the drive home.

           Sam didn’t turn on the stereo.

           Back in the cabin, you quickly shucked off your coat and snatched what you needed out of the bedroom before barricading yourself in for a shower. You didn’t bother taking your makeup off first, allowing the sting of mascara to get washed away in the water. It was too hot and you didn’t care; you only came out when you realized you were going to leave Sam in a cold shower in the last week in December.

           You brushed your teeth in the mirror and took a few deep breaths before sliding out, heading past the open bedroom door straight to the kitchen in order to gulp down a panicked glass of water. Mercifully, you heard the bathroom door lock when Sam entered it quietly. You took the opportunity to grab your pillow out of the bedroom, tossing it on the couch and pulling the throw off the sofa’s back to cover yourself. Your eyes were closed tight and ramming up against your racing mind when Sam came out.

           “You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” he said softly from behind you.

           You opened your eyes but didn’t move your head to seek him out. “It’s okay.”

           Sam appeared in front of you, legs bending severely to perch on the short coffee table. His bare chest still glistened a little from the shower and you knew the green flannel pants he was wearing were soft and thick to the touch. Earnest hazel eyes meeting yours, Sam braced his elbows on his knees.

           “Sam, I’m really sorry. It was a weird reflex and it was unfair for me to—”

           “No, I, it—it wasn’t that. It’s just like, sometimes when you look at me, you look like you’re seeing a ghost. I’m just—I need to know you’re not staying here because I’m the closest you can get.”

           If your heart hadn’t been shattered and re-shattered over the last almost- two-years and today, the fear and resignation in his eyes would’ve sent you to pieces. You pushed up to sitting in order to give Sam the respect he deserved.

           “I can’t—I won’t lie and say you don’t remind me of him, but you’re my best friend—been my best friend since I first met you guys—and I am so, so, sorry I made you feel…I could never try to replace him, Sam.” You were barely making sense, having a hard time stringing together how you felt. “The only place I want to be is with you. You’re all I’ve got.”

           It felt desperate and needy but it was true and Sam deserved the truth. You didn’t shy away from him, stayed there holding his gaze until he seemed content having searched your eyes for anything hiding from the light. After a moment he nodded tightly against lips pressed in a firm line. “Okay.”

           Sam stood up, the broad planes of him catching the glitter of the Christmas tree lights. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and tentative. “Can you, uh, can you come back?”

           It took a moment to process before you nodded, standing up and snagging your pillow before following Sam into the bedroom. You climbed into your side of the mattress, close to the wall and your tiny precious gallery, and Sam folded around you, his warm skin seeping through your t-shirt onto your back. You felt tense and comfortable all at once, safe and uneasy. The two of you sat there for a long time, the relatively light weight of Sam’s arm over you betraying that he wasn’t asleep either. When drowsiness finally began to tug your eyelids closed, he pressed his lips to a spot on your shoulder exposed from the looseness of its sleeve. The last thing you remembered was his arm going heavy like an anchor across yours.

           The sun is hot and delicious on your cheeks, baking the cotton of your jeans and t-shirt into you and turning the roof tiles under you into a frying pan. Wispy clouds move with no urgency across the sky above you and you can’t think of anything better than this, glancing down to worn laces on Dean’s boots undone to give his feet some air as his t-shirt clings half-humid to him. You know his freckles are going to be darker by dinner and it makes you smile to think about it but you’ll never tell him—it makes him shy to be reminded of the spray of pigment that makes him feel alternatively feminine or juvenile but never stunning the way you think it should. You press up to your elbows, barely registering the sting of heat and grit of the roof underneath you and kiss the spot on Dean’s arm where his shoulder slopes into his bicep. He smiles down at you, a lazy half-open smirk perfectly framed by the blue sky behind him like a painting.

           “You’re so weird,” he chuckles. “Who kisses someone’s arm?”

           “Then come down here,” you toss back, exaggerated pout ready for him. He ducks down to you, the warmth of his lips on yours like a cookie fresh out of the oven, like sliding down the hallway on new fuzzy socks, like the summer’s first plunge into water.

           Sam’s head peeks out from under the gutter. “Bobby’s putting brats on the grill, do you want any?”

           “Hell yeah, extra onions,” Dean yells down, grinning smugly when you make a face.

           “Me too!” you call out, watching Sam squint up at the roof. 

           “No onions though, right?”

           “You’re the best, Sam.”

           Sam beams up at you, dimples almost high enough to reach the squint-crinkled skin around his eyes. He nods and ducks back out of sight.

           “Come on, I’m thirsty,” Dean says, standing up. He reaches a hand down to you and takes a half step back to brace himself, stepping on the lace of his other boot. He stumbles and it’s a quick shuffle and you realize he’s too close to the edge his next step is into thin air like Wil E. Coyote and you’re grabbing at that same thin air and you can see his face change when he realizes and some part of your subconscious that’s even deeper than this can feel it’s happening again and the sound is so final, such a wet crack but you scrabble to the edge anyway because you have to see and Dean’s lying there.

           He’s clutching his left leg bent against his chest like a stretch. “Son of a bitch, what the fuck!” he mutter-yells, and you hear the thump of Sam and Bobby running through the old house and skittering to a stop in front of him as you carefully shimmy down the porch post with your hands tearing on the gutter’s rusty edge, jumping down when you feel the railing beneath you.

           “Dean! Are you okay?” Sam yells over Bobby who’s cursing out the goddamn idjit told you not to climb up there it’s like having a bunch of teenagers in this goddamned house and Dean winces and nods angrily.

           You’re lifting up the hem of his jeans and gingerly taking off his boot and Dean hisses when you peel off his sock, but nothing is poking through the skin and that’s better than you expected. “Can you stand up?”

           He nods again and you can practically taste him biting back the string of expletives when you and Sam each take an arm and lift him to standing. You snake a hand into his pocket and grab the keys to the Impala, leaning behind Dean to say to his brother, “I’ll take him to the ER.”

           Dean doesn’t argue and it’s yet more evidence that it’s pretty bad, but you feel fine, elated almost, that he’s still warm under your palm and against your side, that he still smells like fresh laundry and domestic beer and a little bit of salt and engine grease. Sam’s long arm opens the door when you get there and slides Dean in and you promise to text when you know how bad it is as you round the car and get to the driver’s side. You turn the key in the ignition and throw your arm around Dean’s seat to reverse out of the driveway. Dean’s looking at you as you throw the car back into drive, staring almost, and his face is soft even around the broken ankle.

           “I’m always going to love you,” he says, smooth and sure of himself. You tug your eyes away from the road with half a question on your face but Dean doesn’t explain why he’s saying this now. “I’ll be okay and I’m always going to love you, no matter what.”

           It doesn’t make any sense and you open your mouth to tease this unexpected sappiness, remind him the ankle is just one more in a long string of injuries he’ll owe you for, and then Dean’s gone, the car’s gone, and the heat is coming from Sam’s chest in front of you. 

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 5

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[join-the-joywrite]

and I don't want to (but I love you)

@jatp-week Day 6: favourite trope

Not me doing a self-indulgent and stupidly long enemies to lovers au :>

Julie Molina didn't have enemies in her life. She had competitors, sure. Everyone did. But Sunset Curve took the whole cake. She didn't have enemies but Luke Patterson came dangerously close.

Luke Patterson, on the other hand, fully considered Julie Molina his number one enemy. He had zero qualms about saying that to her face and behind her back. He knew his band was the best but Julie had a real knack for knocking his ego down a bit and he hated her for it. Maybe he wouldn't get so riled up if she was nice about it or if not nice, she was less nasty and more stern. Honestly, it seemed like she took pleasure in criticizing Sunset Curve.

The rivalry between them extended to their bands and friend circles. Well, for the most part, anyway. Julie and Luke let Willie and Alex get away with their little forbidden lovers thing because they both thought the pair was cute together. It was pretty much the only thing they agreed on. Ever.

Willie only ever talked about Alex, not the band and Alex made sure to steer clear of mentioning Julie whenever he talked about Willie. The arrangement worked for all sides.

Julie and Luke's rivalry extended far beyond their music. It crept into their classes and had them fighting for the top spot. The teachers were thrilled. It meant Luke put in as much effort as he possibly could into every assignment or test. Even if it was out of pure spite, it was working.

And then, oh dear, and then there was a group project. Obviously, they split to opposite ends of the room with their friends to choose pairs (except Willie and Alex, who were shoved together and assured it was perfect) but apparently, it was important to learn how to work with people you dislike because in the workplace you might be forced to work with people you dislike -- or something like that.

Julie and Luke had never let their rivalry coerce them into doing stupid things -- except the one time where Carrie was convinced Luke could hold his breath longer and Julie almost drowned in the school pool to prove Carrie wrong -- but the moment they were paired up, Julie and Luke both wanted nothing more than to break several school rules, vandalism being the top one and starting violent fights being the second. It was unclear if they wanted to fight each other or their teacher.

Matters were made worse when their friends got to pair off together on their own terms while they were stuck with each other. The only thing keeping them from completely refusing to do any work was that they both were still competing for the highest scores.

Their friends had never been more entertained and the two opposing groups bonded over watching the two most stubborn people they knew suffer out a school project together. The clear awkwardness between them was hilarious and it was a pleasant thing to see them sitting at the same table and not trying to verbally murder each other. Bobby turned out to be the funniest person in the whole group. He had a meme-y caption for every moment they caught of Julie and Luke sitting near enough to have a normal conversation and the others loved it. He also seemed to be able to relate all the memes to the pair and was strangely good at photoshop, which earned him the Groupchat King title. (Julie and Luke were completely unaware of this groupchat excluding only them -- which, for the others' safety, was for the best.) Flynn's favourite was a photo of Julie with a feral look on her face, miming strangling a smug Luke. Me & 2020 was Bobby's winning caption. She wasn't sure which was which and that made it even better, in her opinion.

As the weeks passed, Julie and Luke's rivalry mellowed. As far as they said, it was still going strong but their actions told another story. There were playful nudges in the hallway, now. Teasing death glares across a classroom. Locked gazes and stifled giggles at inside jokes -- the fact that they even had those was surprising enough. They willingly shared a lunch table for the sole purpose of interrupting a mini date between Willie and Alex but most of it was spent in their own world anyway. Their mockery of each other had become gentler and more harmless teasing than anything.

And then one Tuesday, Luke didn't show up at school.

Of course, Luke's band knew exactly what was up, but they -- with support from Julie's friends -- decided it would be fun to play dumb and send Julie to Luke's house, just to check up on him, you know, despite the fact that the group project was long over and she really had no need to meddle further into Luke's life. The mere fact that Julie forgot she still had class and was seriously ready to leave immediately said a lot.

"I can promise you that it's really not as bad as it looks," Luke said from under several pillows, a puffy duvet and maybe three stuffed animals, "but there's no band practice today and I'm not coming to school tomorrow either so can one of you flick Julie's forehead for me? It's tradition."

"Band practice, huh?" Julie said, dropping her bag on the floor with a soft thud. "And here I thought you just had nothing more interesting going on in your life than disrupting mine."

Luke sat up fast enough that his head spun, his vision swam and two pillows fell off the bed. "Who told you where I live?"

"You did, dork. Here, I brought your homework and my dad's trying something out in the kitchen. He misread balf the recipe so it's the blandest thing I've ever tasted but if you're sick, it'll be good for you."

Luke responded to the bit that made sense. "I don't want bland food," he said, scrunching up his nose as Julie set a small stack of papers on the desk in the corner and walked up to him with a covered bowl.

"As if you'd know the difference. Your mom said you can't taste anything anyway."

"You talked to my mom?" Luke asked, looking mortified.

"Yeah, duh. What, did you think I climbed through your bedroom window? I don't care that much for you."

"Aww, I knew you cared for me."

Julie didn't respond to it. "So this is supposed to be a vegetable stew," she said, tapping the plastic wrap over the bowl, "but like I said, mistakes were made."

"Well, what is it then?" Luke asked, leaning over to peer at the bowl.

"I'd call it . . . semi-flavoured water with surprise veggies."

"Joy."

"I know, right? Anyway, I'll leave you to your . . . pillow fort? Cute stuffies. I have the same penguin."

Luke glanced at the penguin that was still secured in his arm. "Don't you dare tell your friends. Especially not Flynn. She's ruthless."

"She is not. But fine, only because you're sick. I'll be back for my bowl tomorrow and it better be empty."

Luke watched Julie leave with a look of amazement. As soon as he heard his front door close, footsteps pattered through the hallway, leading up to his mother sticking her head in his room. "I like her."

"I'm going back to sleep," Luke said, diving back into the safety of all his pillows, wondering if it was the fever or Julie that set his cheeks blazing.

Probably the fever.

"Good afternoon, dork. Reggie says you said you liked the semi-flavoured water and my dad felt very appreciated by that so he's made some actual stew for you to try. It's beef stew this time so please don't get surprised. Did you do yesterday's homework? You should, because I brought today's. How do you feel?"

Luke, who had been staring at Julie with his mouth slightly open in a perfect picture of surprise, blinked when he realised she'd stopped speaking. "Don't you knock?!"

"Your mom said you were asleep and I could just leave everything here for you but you were awake so. . ." Julie trailed off, shrugging.

"You . . . you are so strange."

Julie shrugged as she set the homework down on the desk and walked up to the nightstand to put the covered bowl down in Luke's reach. "You need to come back to school. I feel bad bullying your friends."

"I'm sure they'll be glad to hear that," Luke said sarcastically. He paused for a second. "Yeah, I did the homework. Most of it. My mom said it'll help to get out of bed and do something. I tried to play the guitar but she was adamant I didn't do that something."

Julie nodded and walked back to Luke's desk. She rifled through the mess and picked up all the homework. "I'll finish this essay for you," she said almost absently, searching among the pages. "Please tell me you did your science homework. I got a lot of that wrong and no one wants to give me the answers because apparently, I should learn my work."

"Uh . . . yeah. Um, yeah, I did the science. Wh-- what do you mean 'do the essay' for me?"

Julie looked up as she gathered everything into a pile of messy and uneven papers. "It's on the African American civil rights movement. It's factual and ninety percent of the class will have the same essay anyway so--"

"No. No, I mean . . . why?"

"Oh. Uh . . . why not?"

Luke didn't have a response, so he fell silent.

"Well, that's all of yesterday's homework. Get some rest and then make sure you eat. I can't have my favourite punching bag get too weak to take a hit."

As Julie turned and left his room, Luke felt the sudden urge to scream, so instead, he slammed his burning face into his favourite penguin. Yes, she had called him a punching bag, but she'd also called him her favourite.

"Music class just isn't the same without booing you. Also, Alex said you managed to keep the beef stew down yesterday so my dad thought you could try something a little heavier. This is an experimental chicken and fried rice . . . thing. I do not reccomend eating unless you're sure you're okay enough for a full meal. That said, I brought more beef stew in case you're not up for the chicken and rice."

"You can't just walk in unannounced!" Luke cried as Julie set down the two bowls on the nightstand.

"I can, actually," Julie said, flashing a set of keys at Luke.

Luke's jaw dropped when he recognized the keychains. "Hey, those are mine!"

"Wow, so observant. Your mom gave it to me before I left yesterday because your dad is at work and she needed to go out today and with you holed up in here, there wouldn't be anyone to open for me."

Luke frowned. "Oh, yeah, she said something like that but I was half-asleep."

Julie was pleasantly surprised to find Luke's homework neatly gathered at the corner of the desk. It didn't escape her how Luke seemed to glow with pride when she commented on it. She had to fight a smile as she dropped Luke's homework into her bag.

"Get some rest, dork. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call someone from Sunset Swerve. I'll be busy."

"It's Sunset CURVE and you know it."

"Really? I never noticed."

Luke pouted. "Tuxedo Sam says you're being very mean right now. I'm sick and I deserve care."

"Well, you can tell your stupid penguin that Skipper will beat his ass."

"You named your penguin after the penguins from Madagascar?"

"You call yours Tuxedo Sam."

"Yeah, okay, that's fair."

Julie rolled her eyes and turned to leave. "Take a nap, Moody McSleeveless."

Luke glanced at the penguin laying nearby as he heard Julie lock up the house again. "Don't look at me like that, she's mean all the time."

"I BROUGHT CAKE!"

Luke scrambled up, launching Tuxedo Sam off the bed. "Who died?"

"No one died," Julie said, picking up the penguin as she walked up to Luke's bed. "It's Friday and since you're doing a little better, I thought you could do with a small treat. Tuxedo Sam agrees."

"Give me back my penguin," Luke said, reaching both arms out to Julie.

"Did you do yesterday's homework?"

"Yes."

"Did you really eat both bowls of food yesterday?"

"Yes."

"And keep it down?"

"Yes, ma'am, now can I please have my penguin back?"

Julie passed Luke the stuffed animal. "You're adorable," she blurted, turning away immediately to hide her own stunned look. She cleared her throat as she headed to the desk to grab Luke's homework. "So, that group project? We got a ninety-five."

That distracted Luke easily enough. "What happened to the other five?!"

"We're very bad at teamwork," Julie said, glancing back at Luke over her shoulder to see him relax against the pillows.

"Ah. That . . . makes sense."

Julie nodded. "Mhm."

The silence that blanketed the room wasn't as awkward as it should have been.

"I have to go. Most of the teachers said it would be okay to get your homework on Monday, but Mr Hughes is on my tail about your chemistry paper. My dad is making cupcakes tonight for some reason and I told Willie he could have some, so I'll send extra with him to give to Alex to give to you, but enjoy that crappy store cake for now. I left proper lunch with your mom for when you feel like it."

It didn't register that the only reason Mr Hughes would be harassing Julie about Luke's homework was if Julie herself had taken responsibility for Luke. Well, it did register, but by then, Julie was long gone and the only response Luke could muster was a muffled scream into poor Tuxedo Sam.

"Oh, ew, gross. Luke, it smells like the middle school locker room in here. What were you doing?"

Luke had never looked more sheepish in his life as he pointed to the canister on his nightstand -- right next to his alarm clock. "My phone went off about an hour ago and I thought it was the alarm so I did the smart thing and slammed it down but I missed. Obviously."

Holding her nose, Julie dropped everything she was carrying on Luke's table and tore the curtains open, pushing the windows as far as they could go. She stood there for a moment, relishing in the fresh air. "I'll come back inside when I can breathe," Julie said, halfway out the window.

Luke wanted to melt into his pillows. A week later and he was only feeling slightly better. The pros of it was that Julie visited every day with something tasty and a level of snark that only amused him. The cons of it was that Julie visited every day and left him flustered and red in the face.

He firmly believed that Julie only came by every day because she had homework to drop off, but today was Saturday. There was no more homework to drop off.

And she could have just backtracked right out the door again but instead, she headed for the windows on the other side of his room. Why?

Because she's taking care of you, dork.

Luke couldn't help but think that the logical voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Julie.

"Hey, my parents have some stupid couple's yoga thing on Saturdays. Did you break in?"

Julie pulled the windows halfway closed and stepped back into the room. "No, I still have your keys. Your dad tried to give me the spare key to the front door but your mom said it'll be fine if I kept yours until you're back on your feet."

"Wow. She really trusts you, huh?"

Julie shrugged. "I'm a very trustworthy person."

"No, you're not. I saw you lose a pen that you stuck behind your ear and then you proceeded to lose three more by tucking them behind your other ear and in your pockets. You then tried to steal mine."

"I was fourteen," Julie said defensively.

"It happened last week!"

"I felt fourteen."

Luke gave Julie a deadpan look.

"Cute pyjamas."

"I know, right? Bobby got us matching ones when we were like fifteen for band bonding. I mean, I grew out of the pants but the shirt still fits."

Julie scoffed as she stared at the dark haired cartoon smiling at her from the pink shirt. "Looks really good on you, Skip."

"Hey, I like being Skipper. She's Barbie's most intelligent sister."

"Oh, yeah?" Luke didn't even notice that Julie had made herself comfortable at the foot of his bed. "And if you're Skipper, who are the others?"

"Bobby is Chelsea, 'cause he's the youngest of us, Alex is Barbie, 'cause his summer jobs have been everywhere, and Reg is Stacie, 'cause she's Bobby's favourite and Bobby's favourite bandmate is Reg."

Julie's head tilted slightly. "You sound drunk."

"The bottle said one teaspoon of cough syrup but I didn't read and I took two tablespoons. It's okay, though. Mom panicked and called the doctor and he says the cough syrup he gave me is for kids and I'm just really, really, really intolerant. Which you should remember for me because I plan to be super famous with the band and there are gonna be a lot of after parties and I don't wanna get drunk five minutes in. I think the cough syrup is kicking in."

"Luke Patterson, you are unbelievable."

"I know, right?" He attempted a winning smile, but it came off as plain childlike.

Julie chastised herself for finding him adorable. They were mortal enemies and she had to remember that. Then what are you doing in his room on a Saturday, after explicitly telling the rest of his band to stay away?

Julie found it unnerving how much the voice in her head sounded like a teasing Luke.

"You're like, really annoying."

Julie frowned. "I -- I'm sorry?"

"You should be." Luke was sitting cross-legged now, fiddling with the ears of a stuffed bunny. "It's really messing with my head."

Julie decided she liked tipsy Luke -- even if it was just cough syrup. "How so?"

"No, it's nothing."

"You can tell me, Luke. I promised not to tell anyone about your stuffed animals and I kept it, right?"

"Yeah, but this time the secret about you. You're not allowed to know."

Curiosity more than anything made Julie lean forward slightly. "It'll be our secret."

"Okay, but you have to promise not to talk about it."

Julie nodded quickly. Luke tugged at the bunny's ears for a moment.

"You're like . . . really pretty."

Julie couldn't help the soft laugh that bubbled out of her. Adorable, she thought.

"Like, a lot of pretty. You're pretty on the inside, too."

"On the inside?"

"Yeah. On the inside. You know, your heart."

"M-my heart?"

Luke nodded at his stuffed rabbit. "Yeah. You have a really pretty heart. It beats like a drum. Making music. Like you."

Julie's mouth hung open, surprise silencing her.

"You have the prettiest music in you. I can hear it like -- like a song that gets stuck in my head all day. It's really annoying but it's so pretty. It smells like flowers and it looks like butterflies."

At this point, Julie didn't think she'd be able to speak, even if she knew what to say. Luke was talking to the stuffed animal, frowning as he struggled to voice his thoughts understandably.

"Sometimes it's just so loud and I wanna cover my ears and run away but it just gets louder and louder and then you come over and you're saying something mean but the music is there and it's not so loud anymore but I still can't hear anything else. Your heart sounds like a ballad."

Julie was frozen to her seat at the edge of the bed. Part of her wondered if it was Luke talking or the fever. Part of her desperately hoped it was Luke.

"Julie, you are music."

It was a simple sentence. Anyone could have said it. It could mean a lot or it could mean nothing at all. If anyone else had said it to her, she would have taken it as the highest form of a compliment. But that wasn't what Luke was saying.

Everyone knew that Luke spoke best through lyrics and chords. His books and desks were covered in etched notes and scribbled words. Luke lived and breathed music. It was everything to him. Without it, Luke didn't know who he was.

And he compared it to Julie.

Julie stared at the text on her phone. She bit her lower lip, unsure of what to say in response.

Mom said you visited yesterday. I was dazed for most of it. I didn't say anything stupid or incriminating, right? Not that anything could be more incriminating than the three stuffed animals on my bed.

Ten minutes after that, another had come through. Jules, are you ignoring me? Did I do something?

Then another five minutes later. This is still Julie Molina's number, right?

Julie quickly typed out something before she chickened out again and tossed her phone to the foot of her bed once it was sent.

Hey. Got busy in the kitchen with dad. No, you're good. See you at school tomorrow?

Julie scrambled for her phone to send one last word.

A few streets away, Luke stared at the word 'dork'. He was sure he had said something. He vaguely remembered yapping on about music to Julie -- duh, what else did they share? -- and then suddenly, she wasn't there anymore. He wondered if he'd fallen asleep talking and Julie had left then or if he really had said something to make her leave.

Yeah, he wrote back, see you at school.

Luke cornered Julie as soon as he caught sight of her in the school hallway. "You've been ignoring me and I don't like that."

Julie squeaked. "I most definitely am not ignoring you."

"Julie, you're pretty much the only person in this school that doesn't keep their phone on mute or vibrate. I know you heard my texts yesterday."

"So what if I am?" Julie asked, folding her arms. "We're not friends, so why should you care if I reply to your texts or not? In fact, why were you even messaging me in the first place?"

While Luke fumbled for a response, Julie slipped past him and continued on her way to class.

"Oh, that is just rude!" Luke yelled after Julie.

She ignored him all through any classes they shared and when lunch rolled around, she made sure to sit with Carrie and Flynn at a small table. Luke had never looked more offended in his life as he joined Reggie in sitting with Alex and Willie.

"What did you do on Saturday?" Alex asked, leaning forward to whisper. "Julie was fine when she told us we don't need to come by at all."

"Julie told you not to come over?" Luke asked, ripping his gaze from Julie to Alex and then Reggie, who shook his head.

"Bro, she actually called Alex and told him that we don't need to come see you because she was going to."

"Yeah, I remember her being there but I was drugged up on cough syrup."

"Weak," Alex whispered loudly, grinning when he made Willie laugh.

"Maybe you said something?" Willie suggested.

"Yeah, probably! But she's not talking to me. She's not even insulting me, which I would very much prefer over this apathy."

"You know where she lives," Reggie said dismissively. "Maybe you should pay her a visit."

Luke glanced across the cafeteria to see Julie quickly whip her head down to stare at her fold. "Yeah. Maybe."

Julie was tired and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. Her plans were thrown way off the rails when she walked into her room and found Luke petering around the shelves beside her bed.

"What are you doing here?"

Luke drew his hand back sharply. "Cute box. What's in it?"

"None of your business," Julie snapped, hurriedly closing her bedroom door. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you but you were ignoring me and--"

"You could've just yelled at me from outside," Julie hissed. "I would have come down to shut you up! You can't be in here. Get out of my room."

"No. Not until you tell me why you've been avoiding me since Saturday. Jules, what--"

"Fine! Go and wait for me in the garage. I'll come talk to you in there."

Luke hesitated, unsure if Julie was serious.

When she heard footsteps getting closer, Julie grabbed Luke by the neckline of his shirt and dragged him to the window. "Get out," she whispered hurriedly, "I'll come down to the garage, I promise."

Thankfully, by the time her father arrived, Luke was gone.

"Who were you talking to, mija?"

"Luke," Julie said with a smile. She pointed at the phone. "He liked the cupcakes I sent with Willie."

"Oh, that's great. You didn't take something yesterday and today? Is he feeling better?"

"Much," Julie said, nodding, "in fact, we have some talking to do, so I'm gonna meet him in the garage in a few minutes."

"So late?"

Julie absolutely could not lie to her dad. But she could do half truths. "It's a long overdue discussion."

"School work?"

Julie shrugged. "Music."

"Ah. The garage makes sense. Well, do you wanna take some food down? Midnight snack?"

"Thanks, dad," Julie said with a smile, "you're the best."

"Oh, your dad is the best!" Luke cried as soon as he saw Julie walk in with a plate of cookies.

"These are experimental, too. They're some kind of oatmeal and choc mint blend. They taste good, in my opinion."

"Everything your dad makes tastes good," Luke said, grabbing three cookies. "My mom's starting to get jealous of how much I love your dad's cooking."

Juli smiled and set the plate down on the coffee table. Was there any point beating around the bush? Sugarcoating things?

"You told me I was music."

Luke paused, one and a half cookies gone. "What?"

Julie kept her gaze trained on the tassels of the carpet. "You told me I'm annoying . . . because I'm pretty. Because I have a pretty heart. You said it beats like a drum and I have the prettiest music in me that gets stuck in your head. It --"

"Smells like spring and looks like butterflies. . ." Luke looked positively mortified.

Julie, refusing to look up, did not notice. "You said . . . you said my heart sounds like a ballad and then -- and then you told me I am music."

Had he really said all that aloud? Well, no wonder Julie was avoiding him like the plague.

Julie tensed up when she could see Luke's feet step in front of her. Almost every part of her screamed that this was wrong. They shouldn't be so close without bickering and fighting. But deeper within, beyond the confines of logic and sense, Luke's voice told her that this was the furthest thing from wrong.

"I said all that? Aloud?"

Julie nodded.

"You know what music is to me."

Julie nodded again.

"Jules," Luke said gently. "Julie, look at me."

Julie refused to, so Luke gingerly tucked his finger under her chin and lifted her head, waiting until her gaze fell on him before speaking.

"You know what music is to me," he said again, prompting another nod from Julie. "Then you know what you mean to me."

Julie blinked a few times and shook her head. "No. No, that's just the fever talking. You -- you didn't really mean all of that."

"If you really believe that, why are you avoiding me?"

"I . . . I don't know."

Luke dropped his hand to take hold of Julie's. He glanced at her, waiting for her to pull away. When she didn't, he interlocked his fingers with hers. "I meant every word. Okay, maybe not literally, but you know what I mean."

Julie shook her head. "We're not even friends, Luke."

"Hm, well, who said I wanted to be your friend?"

Julie wanted to hate Luke. She wanted to loathe the sight of him. She didn't want to like him, let alone love him.

And yet, she did.

So before the overthinker in her could stop her, Julie leaned up on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. Luke beamed at her like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Not the response I was expecting, but definitely one I'm enjoying."

"Don't make me regret it."

"Yes, ma'am. Now, what are my chances of getting two more? And one for the road? Within the next five seconds becaus my mom doesn't know I snuck out and she think I'm still sick."

"Dork," Julie said fondly, shaking her head.

"I'm serious!"

"You can have two."

"Three."

"Two."

"Four."

"One."

"Two will do," Luke said, letting go of Julie's hands to wrap his arms around her. He gave her a small squeeze. "Plus a hug."

"Dork," Julie said again. But he was her dork and he was her favourite.

Before anyone comes for me about the cough syrup thing, I'm drawing from experience. I mean I never confessed my undying love for anyone but I did blurt out some weird shit. Also, THAT WAS LONG AND IF YOU SURVIVED THE ENTIRE THING, CONGRATULATIONS TO YOU

Mara's masterlist

[dooandpoo]

Boo’s clown thoughts about Dan

I just re-watched the Heartthrob video from 2018. I have listened to Dan and Phil playing Heartthrob in 2021. I have watched compilations of Dan and Phil’s liveshows and ✨ gay moments ✨ throughout the years. I am officially qualified to make reaching assumptions about Dan’s psyche, and his taste in men 💅. (I am a clown.)

Dan hides many of his feelings under sarcasm. This essay is predicated on a combination of assuming many of his jokes are actually his real feelings, and also taking into account things he has said with sincerity.

First, he wants to fix people. His whole perspective of Bobby changes when the card “never been kissed” is added — Dan gets all soft and literally says “that’s a game changer”. Phil thinks the same, suggests that everything else of Bobby is bravado, to which Dan heartily agrees. Dan loves himself some 💪 meaty men 💪, but gravitates more to the men that seem soft or personable. “Never been kissed” is a big deal for a cool sexy rich guy in high school, and Dan just knows that he could take care of him. It brings Bobby back down to earth, makes him feel real, makes him someone that Dan could relate to. Dan is obsessed with cleaning, takes forever to plan things, gets worked up when things aren’t perfect, must be in control. But he’s drawn to the imperfect, knows that he can do something with it. Someone that’s already perfect isn’t interesting to Dan. But Bobby, who’s rich and sexy but never been kissed? That’s interesting to Dan, that’s someone he can work with.

Dan is a gold-digger 💷💰 (let me explain). Even before the kissing detail is learned about Bobby, Dan chose him to go to the party with just because he’s rich, because his house would be cool, and Dan could pretend to like him for a night of luxury. Dan is a minimalist, he enjoys things to be simple in his life (as stated in the pizza mukbang video), but he loves opulence .... but not for himself. This is fascinating — Dan doesn’t parade his current wealth around, actively works against it. But. He wants to go to a party at a fancy house with a pool, hang off the arm of some cool guy. He wants to have a “team of stylists” for red carpet events to choose his outfits and dress him up all pretty for the world to see. He loves his fancy trips to beautiful places. He gives his Sims elegant and gaudy accessories and furnishings, splurging in a way he never would in real life. This boy loves him some extravagance and attention, wants to parade around looking like a snack, even though most of the time he prefers being low-key.

Dan loves cultivating a specific image for himself. He spent much of his teenage and young adult life trying to fit in, making sure his hair is perfect, making sure his photos are from the perfect MySpace angle, not being “gay”. His Instagram is a wall of black, broken up by only a few things. This is partially because he doesn’t like choice, can’t commit to things when it’s his decision. He can’t choose something “wrong”. See the mukbang video where Phil suggests just picking different clothes from along the line in his closet, and Dan says “that’s how you get ensembles that look like this” indicating Phil’s absurd get-up. Dan can’t imagine just throwing things on willy-nilly, he must present a completely unified vision of himself to the world. In the Attitude shoot, he was devastated that he couldn’t wear the cool boots, that his hair was too long. He secretly wished that it was a nude or horny photoshoot, joking about this during their first Stereo, because he wants to be noticed in that way. He wants to be seen as sexy and cool, he loves it. He wants positive attention. His mid-2020 thirst post on Instagram is a perfect example of this, playing it off as silly when he clearly was really into it. He does this with most of his photos, needing to look a certain way so that the world sees him as cool and sexy even when he’s masking it behind sarcasm. He knows he’s cute, and flaunts it, even though “flaunting it” means he has to be in control of everything all the time.

Let’s go back to the 2018 Heartthrob. One of the boys’ personality traits is revealed to be “can’t wait to have kids”, and Dan is not having it. 🙅‍♂️ Now, Dan would describe that as his fear of commitment. But let’s look closer. Earlier that year, Dan and Phil met Louise’s newborn baby. Both boys go completely gooey the entire time, entranced by her. Dan gets this look in his eye when he hands Pearl to Phil. He watches Phil closely to make sure he’s holding her correctly, hovers and touches her, needing to protect and feel the inherent trust of a baby. He and Phil keep smiling, and then Dan — out of the blue — gets a far away look and comments that there will be phanfiction of him and Phil adopting a baby. Dan was thinking about having a baby with Phil. But he’s scared, because even though Dan would take care of his baby so well, he’d probably worry his ass off making sure the baby has everything. It’s not just the fear of commitment, it’s that he can’t trust himself to do it “correctly”. Even though he’s been with Phil for years, I think Dan second-guesses himself constantly. A baby, or even a dog, for that matter, would send his anxiety into overdrive, because he can’t be in complete control (even though he’d be the best dad and partner ever).

Time to think about thot Dan. In the end, Dan is horny. He visibly reacts to each of the Heartthrob boys that have their “guns out”, and doesn’t easily deny that he’s interested in Bobby for his arms. And Phil knows that. When Dan asks Phil why he thinks Dan chose Bobby ... Phil stalls. Phil does his best to justify his guess that Dan likes Bobby because of his random personality traits, because Dan would like being driven around in a nice car and to ask Bobby about his dream of being a secret agent, but Phil clearly thought Dan would choose Bobby because he knows Dan loves the meaty lads. Phil knows Dan well enough to know that this boy loves him some skin and some muscle showing. (Hmm, interesting that Dan likes his boys meaty 👀, and frequently refers to Phil as such, even at the beginning of this very Heartthrob video …. hmmmm ... says he’d like to receive a lapdance 💋 from Phil “for the spectacle” .... hmmmmmmmmm.)

Back to “commitment” 💍 issues. During a liveshow from the early danisnotonfire days, Dan is asked for relationship advice. Here, he is surprisingly honest and serious. He says to not stay in a relationship where you’re not happy. It seems simple, but Dan really digs deep here. Dan says that if you’re not going to marry a person, don’t stay with them for even a day longer. Dan said that. Dan is scared of trusting others, he is constantly sarcastic and talks about himself disparagingly, but he is self-aware enough to know that he wants commitment. He wants someone to love him forever, to be by his side. That’s why he says there’s no point in remaining in a relationship if you and the other person can’t see yourself together in 50 years. And Dan had been with Phil (in whatever way that means for them) for a few years at that point, completely comfortable with each other. They were already making huge decisions together, like living together and moving to London and starting a radio show and considering moving to New York together. Dan had committed to Phil at this point, knew that he could see himself still with Phil in 50 years. And Phil had committed to Dan, regardless of if Dan felt sure of that or not.

Even earlier than that, Dan had told a fan on formspring that he loves sleeping in the same bed as other people, not even in a sexual way. He loves human contact, sharing space 😌. We know this because he’s so open to hugs with his fans, wants people around to make him feel safe (by people I mean Phil), and is so exasperated by quarantine because he needs more touch and contact. (Tangent — Phil also loves physical touch, as stated in an old liveshow when he said he prefers cuddles to kisses, and is very handsy 👐 with Dan.)

This doesn’t end in physical touch though. He needs other people around. He wants a companion through life. He misses Phil when he’s gone because he’s scared of the house being empty, because Phil makes him feel safe. He wants another person in his bed because it feels nice to be with someone, knowing they’re there. He wants to have someone to work with, to connect with, to make music with, to share moments with. And now this boy has all of that. He has for the last ten-odd years. But this is scary. Dan isolated himself growing up, built barriers between himself and everybody else. He needs to be control of the situation at all times, embarrassed when he’s not. Dan uses self-deprecating language constantly, complains about his inability to connect with people. But he has Phil. Every day they’re together, I think Dan accepts just a little more that he can deserve happiness, that he won’t lose Phil, that Phil is not temporary. Phil shows him that he is worthy of affection, physical and otherwise, that Dan is allowed to reach out and it’s safe to do so. Dan doesn’t have to be alone anymore, he can reach out and Phil is there.

These nonsense ramblings are just to say that Dan has the perfect life partner in Phil. Phil balances him out, lets Dan be himself loudly and quietly, jokes when Dan is too serious. Phil will never leave him, proving that every day, making plans with Dan in mind. Phil is confident and self-assured where Dan is not. They ease each other’s anxieties, approach their fame in similar ways. They genuinely enjoy being together, not just in their personal life, but professionally as well. They are a perfect match, soulmates. 💕

[honey-dewey]

All the Write Places

Pairing: Javier Peña/Reader

Word Count: 3,041

Warnings: Mentions of canon typical violence, some use of (Y/N)

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

A collection of letters between the Reader, who is still in Texas with Javier’s family, and Javier while he’s hunting Escobar in Columbia. 

Mi Amor,

It’s Javier again. I know it’s been too long since my last letter, but the DEA doesn’t want any of my personal information to be intercepted. Steve is doing well. He and Connie just adopted a baby. I think her name is Olivia.

I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while. It’s for the same reason I don’t write all too often. I can’t wait to see you again, I promise it will be soon.

Yours forever, Javier.

P.S. keep an eye out for a package.

———

My Javi,

I miss you so much my dear. Your last letter brought me to tears, and I’m over the moon about the package. The jacket is huge on me, but it smells just like you. You be sure to give the Murphys my love, and kiss their little girl for me.

Things are alright here at home. Your mother treats me like one of her own kids, and it’s very sweet. Your father has begun to teach me Spanish, and your cousins constantly ask about when their Uncle Javi is coming home.

We all miss you, but I miss you most my dear. I can’t wait to see you again.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Amor,

The Murphys insist I tell you Olivia is doing well and has received your love. The hunt is long, but the promise of you waiting for me at home is a sure comfort.

I apologize, but I must keep my letters short. Just know that I love you and I will be coming home. I promise.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

I know you must keep your letters short, but your mother insists you write more. She misses you dearly. I don’t think she understands the gravity of your job. Your father understands. He is worried for you, and his brother helped him rig his radio to listen to the Colombian news. Every time I hear that name, I shiver. He’s a horrible horrible man, and I cannot wait to see him rot in prison.

To keep this letter happy, I want to tell you your sister is pregnant! She’s overjoyed, and so am I. I know you won’t be home to meet the baby, but I’ll send photos, just as I always do.

I love you my dear. I’ll wait for you to return to me, no matter how long that is.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Amor,

The pictures were just what I needed. They are in my apartment, and I put the one of you and my parents on my desk so you’re always with me.

Tell my sister I’m proud of her and cannot wait to meet my niece or nephew. With luck, we’ll be home soon.

I’m sending another package for you and the family. I love you.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

The pregnancy continues to go well, and the kids loved your package. I’m glad you enjoyed the photos.

Unfortunately, I don’t know when I’ll be able to write again. I know it’s hard for you, but my mother just passed, and I’m headed back north for the funeral and to spend some time with my dad. I’ll give them your love, as always.

I wish you were by my side, Javier. The days seem so long without you.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Corazón

You shouldn’t have called me Javier. It was risky, for the both of us. However, I do so desperately miss your voice. I’m glad I got to speak with you.

I promised I’d write when I returned to Texas, and I am home beside your family once more. They’re all jealous I got to speak with you, but the adults understand. Your mother especially understood, and made me swear to tell you she wants you to call for Christmas.

Javier, if at all possible, please listen to that annoying American station on the radio, you know the one that’s obsessed with 50’s music? We listen every night during dinner, and it would warm my heart if I knew you were listening too.

Give Murphy my love. Tell him I can’t wait to meet him one day.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Amor,

I apologize for the call, but you must understand why I risked it. I couldn’t have you grieve alone, not without me to help you through that pain.

I do know the station you wrote about, and I agree it’s annoying. The boys at the office like it, and it’s on while we work. Knowing you listen to it too, it makes my heart swell. One day, we’ll listen to those old songs together, I promise.

My letters will be few and far between, and I apologize. Things are getting worse here, but I vow to return to you alive and whole.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

You mother has decided our song is that Bobby Darrin song that plays every day. The one about the man who’s away from his woman and wishes he could grow wings and fly to her side? Beyond the Sea, she says it’s called.

Your father always changes the station when he thinks we’re all asleep. He listens to the Colombian news, and I think he prays. You said he doesn’t miss you, but he does. He absolutely does.

In other news, your sister is about ready to pop. She’s always complaining about how much her back hurts, and she’s adamant that the baby is staying in all nine months only to make her suffer. I’ve enclosed pictures, because we all painted her stomach and it was hilarious.

I hope to hear from you again before Christmas. The holidays haven’t been the same without you.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Amor,

And I thought my family decorated for Christmas. Columbia has some of the nicest holiday decorations I’ve ever seen. I tried to get Murphy to photograph them, but they didn’t turn out quite right. I’ve sent them anyway.

Tell my sister I cannot wait to meet my niece or nephew. I’m sure that tiny bundle of joy will be just what you need over the holidays.

The Embassy is allowing me to call on Christmas, and I’m allowed to stay on the line for as long as it’s safe. With the precautions they’ve taken, I might even be able to talk with you for hours, my love. I cannot wait. It will be the best Christmas present, being able to hear your voice.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

I don’t know when this letter will reach you, but the baby came today! Only a day before Christmas. Your sister is pissed that she’ll be spending Christmas in the hospital, but the baby, a beautiful little girl, is so cute. She’s lifted everyone’s spirits, and the promise of your call tomorrow is only making them happier.

I know this will be our reality for as long as it just be, but I want you home Javier. It sounds selfish, I know, but I want you beside me, no matter the price. Please come home soon, my love, or I fear I may forget you.

I’m eagerly awaiting your call. I’ll talk to you soon.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

———

Mi Amor,

Hearing your voice was just what I needed today. I assume I’ll be receiving a letter soon that tells me my sister had her baby, but I couldn’t wait to write.

My love, I have a surprise for you. Before you get excited, I’m not coming home soon. The fight only grows harder, and I don’t know if I’ll be home for years. But I found you a gift, one I know you’ll adore. I must be there to give it to you, in person. I know, how cruel of me to deny you your gift for what may be years. Just know, I will never forget it. It sits on my desk and Murphy teases me about it relentlessly. One day, I’ll give it to you. One day.

I’ll see you again, my love. I swear it.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

Your last letter stunned me Javi! You must’ve written that as soon as we hung up. As for the gift, it will be aging waiting for it. Am I allowed to guess? Will you tell me when I get it right?

Your mother was a bit disappointed you couldn’t be with us for Christmas. She made an absolutely heavenly apple pie that she said is your favorite.

The baby grows stronger with every passing day. Maybe one day, she and the Murphy’s little girl can be friends. I think they’d like that.

I’ll see you soon Javier.

Yours truly, (F/N).

———

Mi Amor,

This will be hard to hear. I’ve had trouble simply writing it, and I know it will be hell to read. I have to stop sending letters. One of the DEA’s men wrote a letter to his wife, and two days later he was found dead in a river. It won’t be forever, and I will still receive every letter you send me as long as you keep mailing them they way you are, but we cannot risk anyone finding me right now.

To answer your previous question, yes. Please guess what the gift is. I bet you’ll never be able to guess.

I’ll write as soon as I can.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Corazón,

Not knowing whether you’ve received my letters will be torture Javi. But, as you’ve told me many times, I must remain strong. I will admit I cried when your last letter arrived, but then I imagined you sitting next to a radio, listening to our song at the same time I did, and it was like you were beside me. I miss you dearly Javier, but I will remain brave until your next letter arrives.

Until then, I will simply have to keep you updated. The baby is almost three months now and starting to be a troublemaker, just like her uncle. Your sister jokes her first word will be ‘Javi’ with how much we speak of you around the house.

I also heard, via phone, that Connie is back in the states with Olivia. She says Columbia was just too much, but promised to come and visit me. Give Steve my condolences, I know it must be hard.

Until my next letter, I love you dear.

Yours truly, (F/N).

P.S. Is the gift that book I spoke of over Christmas?

———

Mi Corazón,

Another month, another letter. Now, I make no effort to conceal myself when I listen to the Columbian news with your father and mother. Your mother cries, and your father prays. Sometimes I cry with her, and sometimes I pray with him. It’s hard, not knowing who’s reading this letter first.

Connie came to visit, and she brought Olivia. She’s such a sweet thing, and she adores your cousins. She told me about what she’s seen, what’s happened to her, and I wish for you home more than ever. It sounds horrible, her retellings coupled with the news I barely understand, it sounds awful. The price on your head, and yet you walk around anyway. Please, my heart, be careful. I cannot lose you.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

P.S. This guessing game is such fun. Your sister gave me an idea. Is your gift a camera? I doubt it is, but she wanted me to ask.

———

Mi Corazón,

I apologize for not writing for months. I was traveling to visit my father. He had a health scare and wanted me by his side.

The baby is almost eight months now! Her first word was ‘Javi,’ and we all had a big laugh about it. It’s painful not having you here, or at least having letters.

I listen to our song every night, whenever it’s on the radio. Your sister teases me for it, but I don’t care. It connects me to you. To makes me wonder if some day, we could have a future where there’s no threat, where we could be together.

Please promise me Javier, you won’t get involved with any of this dangerous shit happening in Columbia if you can help it.

Yours truly, (Y/N).

P.S. is the gift jewelry? Your mother thinks it’s a ring.

———

Mi Amor,

I have another torturous request. Please stop writing. Your last letter was intercepted by his men and it was almost very bad. Before I go, please know I listen to our song every night. Tell my sister I love her and her tiny troublemaker, my mother I wish I were home, and my father I’m grateful for the prayers. As for you, I miss you so much my love. I tried to delay the inevitable, but we must stop communicating. I love you, no matter how far apart we are. I’ll write as soon as it’s safe.

Yours forever, Javier.

P.S. No it isn’t the book, no it isn’t a camera, and yes it is jewelry.

———

Mi Amor,

Are you still the same person I wrote to years ago? How’s my sister and my niece, and my parents? How are you? And your father? Murphy and I are good, if a little stressed, because I know you’ll ask.

Things have gone maddeningly quiet. He’s gone, it seems. Disappeared, but I’m sure the radio told you. I know you asked me not to get involved, but I did, and I think I’m in trouble for it. Big trouble.

Anyway, I may be home soon, depending on how it all goes. I cannot wait to kiss you again.

Apologies for such a short message after years of nothing. I missed so much, you’ll have to tell me all about it.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

Mi Amor,

Please tell me these letters are reaching you. Are you still with my parents? Should I call? I think I will, at the end of the week. It’s Monday now. I guess I should tell you, right?

I received good news for you today. They’re sending me home. I know, he isn’t dead yet. But every action has a consequence and unfortunately mine are sending me home before my job is done. Murphy is understandably upset. Yelled for almost twenty minutes about how it wasn’t fair. I’d put my life on hold for almost a decade to catch Escobar, it was only right I was there when he was brought down.

But life isn’t like that, and I’ll be on a plane home in a week or two. I can’t wait to see you. I hope you’re still waiting for me.

Yours forever, Javier.

———

“Mi hija?”

You looked around, seeing Javier’s mother come out for you. The tinny radio playing your song flickered next to your leg. It was on repeat, on a CD Javier’s cousin had burned for you. You’d taken to sitting on the porch swing after dinner was over, simply to take your mind off things. The letters were stacked beside you, the newest one on top. You hadn’t had the energy to even open the new ones. What could you possibly say after years apart? Who would he be? Was he still your Javier?

“Mi hija?”

“Yes mamá?”

Javier’s mother sat beside you. “There’s a new letter in the kitchen for you.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

Standing and gathering your letters and the radio, you followed Javier’s mother into the kitchen. It was warm, and there was an envelope with your name on it resting on the counter.

Picking it up, you turned it over to see two tiny words scrawled across the back.

Open me

You popped the letter open, seeing a small card inside.

The porch. Hurry, before the sun goes down.

Confused, you headed back outside, where the sun had just begun to paint the sky. There was someone on the porch swing, rocking back and forth and humming your song, the same song that was playing from the radio by his side.

The creak of the porch door brought his attention to you, and you immediately put your hands over your mouth and sobbed. “Javi.”

“Mi amor,” he said, standing and wrapping you in a hug. “Oh how I’ve missed you. I promised I’d come home.”

“You did,” you said weakly, collapsing into the hug. “Oh Javier, my heart I’ve missed you.”

Javier kissed the top of your head, smiling as you pulled away a bit. “May I have this dance?”

You laughed, beginning to sway as Javier swayed, both humming your song.

Eventually, once the sun had set completely and the Texas stars were out, you and Javier separated, sitting together on the porch swing.

“Oh,” Javier said, standing suddenly. “Your gift!”

You smiled. “You forgot?”

“I was too busy with something else,” Javier said. “But I think I’ve made you wait long enough, mi amor. Close your eyes.”

You did, closing your eyes and hearing him shuffle in front of you. After a minute of silence, Javier spoke. “Open your eyes.”

Opening your eyes, you gasped. Javier was on one knee before you, holding out a gorgeous ring. “I knew,” he whispered softly. “I knew the minute I received your first letter that I wanted to marry you. If we had been married all those years ago, you would’ve been able to come with me, to have me by your side. And now, if you’ll have me, I want to remain here, with you at my side and with me at yours, for the rest of my life. No more letters, my love.”

You nodded, crying as you practically threw yourself into Javier’s arms. “Yes!” You said happily. “Yes!”

Javier smiled, sliding the ring onto your finger. A perfect fit. “Now we’ll always be together,” he said, kissing your knuckles. “Always.”

Kissing Javier firmly, you nodded. “Always. No matter what.”

And you did stick together. The day he got sent back, you packed a bag and boarded the plane right beside him, ready for whatever horrors would await you. He didn’t want you going, but you insisted. Together always, no matter what.

[rizlowwritessortof]

Riz’s Master List

Just updated my master list (finally) - haven’t added anything new for a few months, unfortunately, but I’m working on it! Links below the cut. HUGE THANKS to @firefly-graphics for the dividers, you are a GIFT, my friend! 

Never Look Back

Dean Winchester/Female OC, 21 chapters

Bethany Rae Cooper didn’t realize when she met the Winchesters in her family’s bar and grill that her life would never be the same. But she’s always believed that everything happens for a reason, even if it’s not exactly what you were expecting…

The Shadow’s Edge

Dean Winchester/Female OC, 17 chapters

Sequel to Never Look Back. When the demon Dameon was killed, Dean and Beth thought their son was safe from the prophecy. But when Cas brings them news of the new battle for Hell, they realize that their war has just begun.

The Fine Line

Dean Winchester/Female OC, 34 chapters

An unexpected tragedy sends Devon down the dark path of hate and vengeance, but she will learn that things are not always what they seem…

Scars

Dean Winchester/Female OC, 10 chapters

Sequel to The Fine Line. Dean and Devon’s relationship has always been stormy - but can they work through the scars of their past to find each other again?

Stars In the Darkness

Dean Winchester/Female OC, 8 chapters

A crushing loss brings Dean and Sam to Sioux Falls, and ghosts from the past and present bring them across the path of Tiara, a girl they haven’t seen since childhood.

Dreaming

Dean Winchester/Female OC, 5 chapters

Dean Winchester has always been a bit of a thorn in Kelsey’s side - a very attractive thorn, but still… A visit at her uncle Bobby’s reunites her with the boys, and she begins having vivid dreams - about Dean. Is it just her subconscious trying to tell her something? Or is there more to it than that?

My Unimportant Little Life

Dean Winchester/Female OC, 11 chapters

Season 5 timeline. Dean gets yanked from 2009 to 2014, so he can see the ‘consequences’ of saying no to Michael. At Camp Chitaqua he meets Reggie, and is surprised to find that she comes from 2009 as well…

Back In the Saddle

Dean Winchester/Female OC, 10 chapters

Dean and Sam are back in the old west again - in answer to a cry for help from Samuel Colt. And if Dean just happens to get tangled up with the spirited redhead that owns the saloon… what’s the harm, right?

Sweet Escape

Dean/Female Reader, 2 parts

What happens when a friend jokingly does a spell at your birthday party to bring your cardboard standup of Dean Winchester to life? This one’s dedicated to my friend, Liz, who gave me the idea. If only…

Sweet Escape Part 1

Sweet Escape Part 2

Shut Up and Drive

Dean/Female Reader, 2 parts

Reader teases Dean while he’s driving, so - he gets even

Part 1 - Keep Your Eyes on the Road

Part 2 - Or We Could Park - Parking Is Good Too

Take the Long Way Home

Dean Winchester/Female OC, 8 chapters

A look at Dean and Rusty’s relationship, in the present and through their memories. Flashbacks/memories are in italics.

Black Velvet

Demon!Dean/Female Reader, Dean/Female Reader, 9 chapters

You and Sam are broken after Dean’s death. Nobody expected him to come back with black eyes…

Fade to Black

Dean/Female Reader, 11 chapters

Sequel to Black Velvet. Dean is no longer a demon, but he’s still cursed with the Mark of Cain, and the lure of that darkness grows stronger as time goes on.

Dean and Toby Series

Part 1 - The Meet-Cute (Actually Rescue but Whatever)

Part 2 - The Emergency Bed-Share/Move In With Us Combo

Part 3 - The Hit and Then Run Like Your Ass Is On Fire

Part 4 - The FINALLY Admit Your True Feelings and Get Busy

GENERIC

I’m Good

This is the story that was published in the Seasons - Supernatural Short Story Anthology in 2017. Bobby sharing some memories.

Combo Shot

Dean/Female Reader

June 2015 GIEPP (Girl In Every Port Project) entry. Prompt: Pool/Poker hustler competitive chick. Pretty much pure smut.

A Hunter Walks Into a Bar

Dean/Female OC

Prowling hunter, sassy bartender

Shelter

Dean/Female Reader

Dean providing comfort

That’s How It Should Be

Sheriff!Dean/Female Reader

They have to make a fast escape, but Dean won’t let being on horseback stand in the way of showing a lady a good time

The Storm

Dean/Female Reader

You’re terrified of storms, and Dean is concerned, feelings get shared

Pest Control

Dean/Female Reader

You think you’ve got mice. The exterminator that shows up is Dean Winchester. He’ll just let you believe that, and take care of the problem. And you.

Happy Birthday, Baby

Dean/Female OC (KK)

Fluffy, smutty birthday fic written for a friend

Gunpowder and Dean

Dean/Female Reader

You’re pissed off at Dean, taking it out on the firing range, but he just won’t leave you alone…

Juicy and Delicious

Dean/Female Reader

My entry for Dean’s Flavor of the Month fic challenge - Peach Pie. You bake some peach pies for Dean, and he’s very grateful…

Lost In You

Dean/Female Reader

A casual flirtation leads to a violent encounter, and Dean’s reaction is a little more than you expected. Warning for brief description of attempted (unsuccessful) assault. Protective Dean.

What You Need

Dean/Female Reader

You’re watching as Sam and Dean prepare to interrogate a demon. Dean knows you’re watching him, and he knows exactly the kind of effect it’s having on you…

Santa Claus Is Coming Tonight

Dean/Female Reader

Dean’s really getting into the Christmas spirit…

I Need You

Dean/Female Reader

You screwed up, Sam got hurt, Dean’s pissed and you aren’t handling it very well.

Snow Day

Dean/Female Reader

You and Dean, stuck in a motel room in a blizzard

Frisk Me

Dean/Female Cop Reader

You’re a cop, in hot pursuit of a murderer, and guess who crosses your path?

Comfort

Dean/Female Reader

Dean had a rough hunt, and he’s beating himself up as usual. You take his mind off things for a little while…

When I Think About You

Dean/Female Reader

It was a wild hunt, and you’re both a little high-strung. Surely there’s some way to blow off some steam…

One Finger

Dean/Female Reader

Dean Winchester has never been one to back down from a challenge

What Makes You Feel Alive

Endverse!Dean/Female Reader

The world is bleak, the struggle endless after Croatoan. You and Dean do what you have to do to keep going.

Sweet Misery

Dean/Unnamed Female OC

My entry for Bev’s Song Challenge - song prompt was Cryin’ by Aerosmith, lyrics at the beginning

Winchesters Don’t Giggle

Dean/Female Reader

A friend and I were having this discussion about giving Dean a back rub, and whether he might be ticklish…

Confession

Dean (Priest!Dean)/Female Reader

When Dean returns from some undercover work, you discover a fantasy you never realized you had

The Bait

Dean/Female Reader

This was written for @jessica-bones-winchester’s (now on her 100th url as @cavillanche - Love you, Jess!) Dating Dean Writing Challenge. The prompt was ‘dressing up as an anime character for his birthday.’ And I have to admit, I really enjoyed this one… Reader dresses as Sailor Mars (from Sailor Moon) for Dean’s birthday.

Hey, Man - Nice Shot

Dean/Female Reader

This is for @jessica-bones-winchester’s ( @cavillanche ) Dating Dean Writing Challenge. The prompt was ‘competitiveness in the shooting range (loser cleans the kitchen for a week) No smut.

Take the Pain Away

Dean/Female Reader

This was written for @jessica-bones-winchester’s ( @cavillanche ) Dating Dean Writing Challenge. Prompt was ‘him taking care of you when you’re sick.’ Reader falls victim to a migraine, and Dean helps her through it. No smut.

Lose Yourself

Dean/Female Reader

Smut, pure and simple… Just imagine having Dean tied up, at your mercy while you worship those perky nipples…

The Contest

Dean/Female Reader

Dean loves to give you a hard time, and one night he pushes things a little too far… Flashback in italics. All’s well that ends well.

Slow Ride

Dean (Bullriding!Dean) /Reader

Yeah, after 12x11, y'all should have known this was coming - they don’t call me Cowgirl for nothing… Written (coincidentally - timing is everything!) for the Smut Apocalypse (Smut Appreciation Day) on Tumblr.

The Photo Booth

Dean/Unnamed Female OC - Dean’s POV

This was written for @winchestersandwordprocessors SPN Valentine’s Fic Challenge. Prompt was Semi-public/Risk of getting caught.

Make You Mine

Dean/Female Reader

Dean’s jealousy gets the best of him, which is not a bad thing…

Take a Chance

Dean/Unnamed Female OC - Dean’s POV

In 7x04, Dean gives himself a little pep talk before his planned hook-up with the bartender. That scene is what inspired me. This one is more important than the usual one-nighters, and it’s making him a little nervous…

If We Don’t Make It

Dean/Female OC

This fic was written for @whispersandwhiskerburn Angel’s 2K Follower Celebration. My song prompt was “Broken” by Lifehouse, and the dialogue prompt was “If we don’t make it out of this, I need you to know…” No smut.

My Deliverer

Dean/Female Spirit - Her POV

Dean is hunting a vengeful spirit. But another spirit is in this place, and she is drawn to him…

Friendly Advice

Dean/Female Reader - Dean POV, Reader POV

This was written for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge. The fluff got a little smudged into smutty fun… oops! Two POV’s, Dean’s thoughts are in italics and Reader’s are in regular font.

Old Times

Dean/Female OC

Sequel a few years down the road from A Hunter Walks Into a Bar. Tiara goes back to the bar for a visit, and who should show up the next night but Dean Winchester… Flashback in italics.

You Can Leave Your Hat On

Dean/Female Reader (nicknamed Taz)

Inspired by the sexy AF Cowboy!Dean we were treated to in 13x06 Tombstone. Helped along by Joe Cocker’s rendition of “You Can Leave Your Hat On.“

Wish Her the Best

Dean/Female OC - Dean’s POV

This is an angsty li'l fic inspired by Thomas Rhett’s ‘Marry Me,’ tore at my heart until I finally wrote it. No smut.

A Matter of… Time?

Dean/Female Reader

This is the crackiest piece of work I’ve ever written - for @percywinchester27 Ana’s PJO Quotes Challenge. Prompt was “Don’t you ever feel that way? Like you could do a better job if you ran the world?” - “Umm - no. Me running the world would be kind of a nightmare.”

Demon Seed

Demon!Dean/Female Reader

Demon!Dean stops in for a drink and decides he wants you. He’s very persuasive. Written for @evansrogerskitten’s Hottest Dean Challenge.

Not Wasted Now

Dean/Female Reader

When you all decide to get drunk in the aftermath of a bad hunt, lines get a little blurred. Or crossed. Or fucking erased. Fluffy, smutty, comforting, sweet and sexy Dean.

Bad Guy

Demon!Dean/Female Reader

This was written for @eyes-of-a-disney-princess Rapunzel’s Tangled Up With Supernatural Challenge. My Tangled quote was “You want me to be the bad guy? Fine, now I’m the bad guy.”

Shiny

Trucker!Dean/Female OC

Trucker!Dean AU. Breaker, breaker, got your ears on? 67 Midnight Rider, put that hammer down…

Some Kind of Hero

Dean/Female OC

Written for Tiff’s WTF Challenge. Dean’s just filling up Baby, minding his own business, when he hears an argument and gets involved. Protective Dean, no smut, left that to your imagination.

Crave

Dean/Female Reader

So, have some ‘Riz is craving some sexy Dean action with a big ol’ side of schmoopy fluff’ stuff. Because I was, and I’m sharing with you - the smut and all the sickenly sweet cuddly that I just need sometimes. If y'all are in the mood for that kind of thing.

Perchance to Dream

Dean/Female OC

Using African dream root on a case leads to an awkward situation, and Karlie can’t handle the tension between her and Dean any longer

Ruined

Dean/Female Reader

Dean comes home from a hunt, and he’s had something on his mind…

Going Home

Dean/Female Reader

Written for @crispychrissy’s Gif It To Me Challenge. Overhearing only part of a conversation sends her running, but jumping to conclusions without the whole story isn’t the best decision. No smut.

Not the Smartest Thing

Dean/Female Reader - Reader POV

Only Dean Fucking Winchester could turn taking a swig of beer into pornography. Cocky bastard. But two can play at that game.

Suzy Q

Dean/Female OC - OC POV

Written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan’s Multi-fandom Follower Celebration Challenge. Prompt - “I think I’m having a feeling. How do I make it stop?”

Invisible Touch

Dean/Unnamed Female OC

Rowena teaches Dean something new, and he gets inspired. I have no idea where this came from, but here it is…

Maybe I’m Amazed

Dean/Unnamed Female OC

An accident leaves her unconscious and fighting for her life in the hospital, drifting in and out of awareness and memories as Dean refuses to leave her side. Written for @rockhoochie’s 1K Love Supernatural Style Writing Challenge.

Reunion

Dean/Female OC

Passing through town, Dean runs into an old high school classmate. Fluffy and smutty, no angst here!

Playing With Fire

MOC!Dean/Unnamed Female OC

Late Season 10 MOC!Dean smut fic that just wouldn’t leave me alone…

Uninvited

Michael!Dean/Dean/Unnamed Female OC

Michael gives Dean a choice, because sometimes Michael likes to watch…This one is darker than my normal, PLEASE heed the warnings.

What Happens At the Roadhouse…

Early-Season Dean/Female OC

Bailey’s just looking for a couple days post-hunt R&R at Harvelle’s - and then he shows up. Cocky bastard.

Unleashed

Post-Purgatory Dean/Female OC

She’s still struggling to cope a year after Dean disappeared in the explosion that killed Dick Roman.

The Pool House

Dean/Unnamed female OC

Inspired by a dream - one I will never forget!

The Break-In

Dean/Tara (female OC)

One night I started thinking about what it would be like using mics and earbuds and having Dean’s voice RIGHT IN YOUR EAR. And then this fic happened. Hope you enjoy!

Tired of Missing You

Dean/Journey (female OC)

This is one of those times when my story yanked the wheel out of my hands and I just went along for the ride. So if you’re in the mood for a fluffy, angsty cookie with a smutty, creamy middle - here ya go!

Compelled

Dean/Brandi (female OC)

Have you ever had a really bad day at work? I’ve never had a day quite as bad as Brandi’s - but damn, I’d love to use this method to relieve the stress…

The Devil Made Me Do It

Demon!Dean/Shea (Female OC)

Shea is in a reckless mood. Demon!Dean is happy to help her indulge that mood.

Driving Miss Baby

Dean/Reader

Dean decides you need a driving lesson in Baby.

Just a Little Story About Lou and Sam

Sam/Female OC

Lou and Sam walk into a bar… written for a friend who’s a Sammy girl

Doctor-Patient Relations

Sam/Female OC

One-shot inspired by The Born-Again Identity - sick Sammy and Dr. Nicole. Written for another Sammy-girl friend

Head vs. Heart

No title

Fourth of July

Working Saturday Isn’t So Bad

11x17 Drabble

Some Nights He Dreams

Most of the Time

The Name Game

God Bless America

Stress Relief

Dean Hurt/Comfort Drabble

@mrs-squirrel-chester ‘s Album Fanfic Writing Challenge Drabbles

    Dangerous

    For My Brother

    In Chains

    Kiss and Tell

    The End of Me

    Choices

    Hero

    Pure

    In the End

[buckleysjareau]

masterpost of all of my fics

!hey hey, here’s mostly everything i’ve ever written for 9-1-1 and Criminal Minds. Reblog if you like any of them, and always come back to check and see if it’s updated. It’ll always be pinned. :) Everything under the read more line!

AO3: 9-1-1

Buck Goes To Pride (buddie, getting together)

Thinking back to that cold winter afternoon when Buck broke down in her arms after the shit show that was his coming out, she never thought she'd be helping her brother get ready for Pride. He shut that part of himself away for a long time. But eleven years later, she's handing her brother a box with a pride flag in it, and he's grinning from ear to ear.

Buck goes to his first pride featuring his journey of coming out, lots of hugging, and Hen being the best.

...or you could have mine? (buddie, pre-relatioship)

There's too much going on between his agitation, people talking over each other, the way his uniform feels more scratchy than it ever has, and the bright lights. He can't sit still and he knows he's starting to annoy everyone but he can't help it no matter how much he wishes he could with his medication.

ADHD Buck

agree to disagree (buddie, getting together, friendship)

Whoever thought a night of heavy drinking between Buck, Eddie and Chimney was a good idea, were out of their minds. When sober, they were idiots but shot after shot of tequila plus the couple of beers they each had before meeting up multiplied the absolute stupidity of the three men.

Buck, Eddie, and Chimney get wasted and Athena wins a bet.

i put a spell on you (buddie, getting together)

Eddie Diaz absolutely loved Halloween. Ever since he was an excitable eight year old boy he’d been known to go all out for the holiday. Twenty-four years and a son had not changed that.

4k+ words of Eddie being happy, scaring his friends, and loving Halloween.

baby you know i just wanna leave tonight (buddie, pre-relationship)

If there was one thing that people knew about Evan Buckley, it was that he didn’t want people to know him.

People find out more about Buck then he ever wanted them to know when the Buckley’s come to town.

i woke up from a never ending dream (buddie, getting together)

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Sensing the urgency, Eddie jogs the rest of the way. He doesn’t know what he’s really expecting, his mind not entirely focused, but for the second time that night, Buck surprises him.

“Buck?!”

Where Buck is going through it and Eddie has anxiety but they help each other through it. Featuring pet names and lovesick Eddie.

you feel like the sun on my face (buddie, established relationship)

Buck has a way of doing things and saying things that even in Eddie’s worst moods, he still can’t fight his smile.

Eddie's view on Buck's Wikipedia spirals and the beginning of the brilliant idea it inspires.

Part 1 of 3 in the ‘cause of i’m not too far and you’re my favorite place series

you feel like the perfect escape now (buddie, established relationship)

"In the symbolic language of jewels, a sapphire in a wedding ring means marital happiness."

Eddie planning his proposal with the help of Hen and Karen. Featuring good ol' Buck and Chimney banter, soft and in love boyfriends, and tooth rotting fluff.

Part 2 of 3 in the ‘cause i’m not too far and you’re my favorite place series

everything is blue (may + buck friendship, buddie, getting together)

When Evan Buckley is ten, he discovers nail polish.

In which Buck paints his nails, Eddie is flustered, and May is a matchmaker.

it weighs on me (buddie, established relationship)

The bad weather is gone, except it’s not.

In which Buck has a bad day and Eddie holds him through it.

101.9 (buddie, getting together)

Evan Buckley did not get sick.

Based on a tumblr prompt where Buck’s fever won’t fuck off so Eddie makes him take a cold bath.

when i’m walking in my sleep (buddie, getting together)

He finds that maybe he’s a little in over his head when Buck greets him with a loopy smile. He’s just a tiny bit in love with Evan Buckley, and having dealt with post-surgery Buck before, Eddie is sure his heart might burst with every zany grin and stage-whispered expression of appreciation.

Eddie takes care of a loopy Buck after he gets his screws removed, and truths come out.

you’re in my heart  (buddie, established relationship)

"I will not be broken... I will not be... fine, fine, you win! Stop with the face."

Eddie sings Buck to sleep after he finds out Eddie can sing.

we’ll be fine, you and i (buddie, established relationship)

He couldn’t believe his luck. He never imagined he’d be able to have this and now, he’s here. He has everything he could ask for and more in his boyfriend’s arms. Stability, happiness, love.

dizzy hurricane (buddie, pre-relationship)

“I’m a medic,” Buck mocks. “You’re a medic, but you can’t take care of yourself, apparently!”

Eddie refuses to admit he’s sick and finds his medic expertise is unreliable when it comes to himself.

tongue forgot the words and feet forgot the earth, it’s true (buddie, established relationship)

Eddie feels like he’s drowning in insurance payments, tuition raises, overbearing parents and anxiety. Things had definitely been worse on him when he didn’t have a whole new support system on his side but things just kept piling on, one after another, it was impossible for him not to feel suffocated. Every muscle in his body was sore from being completely tensed all of the time, the lack of sleep was getting to him, he’s in a foul mood to everyone that loves him. He just wants a break, needs a break.

Eddie finally gets a second to breathe.

you are my glitter and my gloom, i am so numb without you (buddie, getting together)

But right now, with Eddie by his side, he doesn’t worry. For the first time in almost a year, he doesn’t have to worry.

Buck has a flashback, or six, after the landslide. Eddie is there to bring him back, like always.

double vision wrapped in last night’s party clothes (buck centric, pre-relationship buddie)

"I have always been honest with you." When Eddie's voice cracks, Buck's composure almost cracks with it. "Why can't you just be honest with me?"

When Buck is let in on a long kept family secret, he doesn't know what to do. He almost ruins things with the one person that keeps him from feeling like he's floating away with no way to land, but it ultimately turns out okay with help of a little communication.

safe, better keep that thought to yourself (madney)

But days after, he still can’t stop hearing it in his head, over and over.

I love you, Howie. I love you, Howie. I love you, Howie. I love you, Howie.

with friends like ours anywhere is home (buck & tk, background buddie)

[@evanbuckley: you have two new follow requests.] @marjanmarwani would like to follow you. @tkstrand would like to follow you.

@tkstrand liked your photo. @tkstrand liked your photo. @tkstrand liked your video.

@tkstrand So, I see you have a boyfriend, too. I’m sorry for assuming haha

Wait, what?

Buck and TK’s long distance friendship featuring love advice, horrible nicknames and background Buddie.

wish i could keep you in amber, safe from the outside (buddie)

Neither of them say anything as Eddie takes shelter in Buck’s arms, face tucked in the crook of his neck, sheltered from all the bad that’s happened. A safe place.

He can only hope that he’s Buck’s safe place, too.

In which Eddie and Buck are struggling after the shooting and they finally have a much needed talk.

AO3: Criminal Minds

you light my fire (jemily, AU)

Emily's face stays complacent as JJ reaches out her hand to shake, only dropping the smug act and smiling genuinely when she reaches for JJ's hand. "Welcome to the team, Pennsylvania Petite."

Jemily Firefighter AU

Tumblr: 9-1-1

“i saw this and i thought of you immediately.” (buddie)

keep you warm (henren)

wheels up, buck (9-1-1, criminal minds crossover)

stand, you’re gonna run again (buck centric, buck & bobby)

bows and ribbons and glitter (buck & chimney, madney) 

“i believe that would be murder” (buddie, pre-relationship)

mac-and-cheesy (buddie, established relationship)

his saving grace (buddie, pre-relationship, buck centric)

what i love about the south (pre-relationship buddie)

unconditional, unadulterated (buddie, getting together)

home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling (buck & athena)

he’s special, they’re special (madney, meet-cute)

Tumblr: Criminal Minds

rough nights end in hot chocolate (garvez)

[tangledstarlight]

days go by and seasons change (lets try again next winter)

julie's ready for a year away from home, studying and trying to refind the magic in music. luke's about to start on a summer tour around europe opening for a band. they meet one night, sparks fly and emotions run hight. now they've just got to try and see if they can maintain a long distance friendship.

ok hello hi so this is my wild ride of a fic that i’m working on, a scene (much later on) came to me in a dream, and much like how smeyer wrote twilight, i just had to find out how they got there fhbdj there’s some drinking which would be classed as underage in the us but is legal in the uk which is where it’s set so 

trigger warnings!! alcohol and swearing

also on ao3 –– [ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | extras 1 & 2 ]

winter

There was a line almost outside the door for the coffee shop, people wanting something to warm them up or just to avoid the sudden downpour of rain. Julie had been in England for just over a month now and she still wasn’t used to the randomly changing weather, how were you supposed to plan an outfit for the day if it started mildly sunny and ended in a thunderstorm? It was January! She had come prepared for snow, not rain, damn it.

From her table in the back corner of the cafe, hands wrapped around a mug and headphones blaring music, Julie people watched. Sure, she was supposed to be working on an essay, but she’d been there for half an hour already. She deserved a little break.

Even through her music she can hear the sounds of the cafe around her. Customers placing orders and rain on the windows and cups hitting tables and people laughing and it’s comforting. The sounds of life going on around her while she pretends to be doing work.

Pretends, because she’s been trying to work on this essay for a week now and getting nowhere with it.

When she’d signed up for the study abroad scheme her mind had been on experiencing a new country, on the places she could visit, the new friends she could make, the thoughtful looks she could escape.

She hadn’t thought much about the work she would have to do, the essays that would need to be written, the awkwardness of settling into a new place, the strangeness of hearing new accents.

The actual creative side of her course she found easy enough, but when it came to writing about her stylistic choices and her themes and her influences and how they all tied back with what they’d been reading about? She was drawing a blank.

Blowing on her drink, Julie let her eyes wander around the coffee shop. It was a fairly small place with an extensive collection of teas and fresh baked cakes and free wifi. She’d found it by mistake while looking for a music shop her first week in the city, they’d lured her in with carrot cake and coffee and she’d been coming back at least once a week ever since. A group of boys push through the door, shaking off hoods and laughing at something as they join the queue.

Something about them seemed vaguely familiar, like she’d seen them from a distance in a dark club, or scrolled past a group photo of them on her instagram suggested posts. Or maybe it was because they just looked like every other group of young adults she’d come across, both back home and in Liverpool. One thing she had learnt pretty quickly was that boys were the same everywhere.

She was saved from mulling it over by her phone vibrating on the table with a text, Carrie’s name popping up on the screen and Julie swapped her cup for her phone, a small smile already tugging at her lips as she read the series of texts on her screen.

Julie’s attention is dragged away from her phone by something – someone – knocking into her table, sending her pen rolling off and her cup to shake. Pulling her headphones out of her ears she looks up as the culprits eyes widen, mouth pulling into a grimace as he stares at the coffee now running down the back of her jacket that had been happily sitting in the spare chair.

“Shit,” he mutters, already pulling a napkin out of his back pocket and dabbing at the mess. “I’m so sorry, I uh– wasn’t looking and the chair leg and fuck I’m so sorry about your jacket, can it be dry cleaned?”

And he looks so sincere in his apology, all wide sad eyes and words stumbling out too quickly and messy brown hair curling out from under a beanie and accent that sounds like home, that Julie swallows back the annoyed retort she had ready to go.

It was just an accident. Accidents happened. At least it wasn’t over her laptop. Blowing out a breath, Julie shakes her head at him once, pushing back her chair to inspect the damage.

“It’s fine, honestly. Don’t–” she pauses, holding up the denim on either side of the collar and frowning at the pretty large brown stain. “Worry about it.”

Can she wash it? She’s never tried, but well. She bites her lip as she looks at it, the stranger awkwardly standing just a short distance away with a wad of used napkins and his half spilt drink, and yeah, she definitely won't be able to wear it tonight.

“I’m so sorry.” He says again and someone must catch his attention over her shoulder because his eyes dart away from her, eyebrows shooting up and shrugging his shoulders and, it’s kinda cute. The way he seems to be hovering, unsure if she’s going to shout at him.

“Seriously, it’s fine. Accidents happen, right?” She shoots him a quick smile – though not missing the way his cheeks turn slightly pink – before turning back to her jacket, carefully laying it out on the chair to hopefully dry out enough for her to stuff it in her bag before she needs to leave. She really hopes it stops raining.

“I uh– shit I’m sorry. Again. I gotta–” He gestures to the door where Julie can see his friends waiting for him, barely contained grins on all their faces that has Julie rolling her eyes. Boys. She looks back at him, raising an eyebrow even as her lips tick up into a small smile, she’s rewarded by his cheeks going red, the hand still holding the napkins rubbing at the back of his neck and a stuttered ‘goodbye’.

Sitting back down, Julie rolls her eyes again, muttering under her breath about ‘annoying cute boys’ and ‘favourite jackets’. Leaning down to pick up her fallen pen with one hand while the other tapped out a reply to Carrie. An hour more of sitting here, attempting to do her essay and then she’d have to go if she wanted enough time to get ready.

\\

“So where are you?”

Julie couldn’t hear what was being said on the other side of the phone, but judging by the way Carrie was rolling her eyes the answer wasn’t correct. Flynn leans her head on Julie’s shoulder, their linked arms drawing them closer as they walk, it’s not the most comfortable way to walk, but they’ve already had a few drinks and Flynn gets a little clingy after one. Julie puts her head on top of Flynns as they stumble along cracked stone streets.

“She actually might end up killing Bobby at this rate,” Julie mutters and is rewarded with Flynn letting out a laugh that has Carrie looking over her shoulder at them, eyes softening for a moment before she’s rolling them again. If she hadn’t known the other girl as long as she had, Julie would be worried about permanent eye damage.

“Fucking hell. Okay. Yeah, okay we’ll be like, ten minutes then. Yeah, yeah, okay bye.”

Sliding her phone into her back pocket Carrie took a half step back so she was walking with them again, linking her arm on Flynns other side.

“They’re at the Cavern Club,” Carrie looks at Julie over the top of Flynn’s head and lets out a loud sigh, “I know. That’s where we were going to go anyway. They’re so annoying.”

But she says it in a fond sort of way. Like how you talk about your neighbour's dog that barks too early in the morning and wakes you up, but always runs over to say hello to you through the fence when you walk past and brightens up your day. Annoying, but sweet.

Julie’s only met Carrie’s cousin Bobby once, it had been a short ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ type interaction as he ran into Carrie’s house to pick up his bag and then run straight back out again.

She’s never met the other three members of the band at all, but she knows, after doing a little bit of internet searching, that their band isn’t half bad. They’ve got some pretty good songs and a small following that she is sure is bound to get bigger by the time they’ve finished being the opener for whoever they’re touring with and their first album is out in the world.

The three of them flash their id’s to the security on the door, slightly giddy smiles on all their faces even now, still not used to it all being legal for them to drink under the age of twenty-one. But the security guy doesn’t even blink and then they’re walking down a flight of stairs, the air getting warmer and the sound of drums and guitars reaching them.

Carrie grabs hold of Flynn's hand and Flynn grabs a hold of Julies and then they’re weaving through people and avoiding knocking drinks out of hands.

Her attention is pulled from the crowd to the stage at the back of the room, a band playing a cover of something she can’t name, they don’t sound too bad, and the part of her that used to fall in love with music every time she heard it wants to stop and listen. But that part of her is small and quiet and shy now, so she keeps her grip on Flynn’s hand and follows along.

Julie doesn’t know how Carrie knows where she’s going but all of a sudden they’re coming to a stop, her free hand reaching out to balance herself on Flynn’s shoulder even as a small part of her is still trying to work out what the song is.

Turning her eyes away from the stage she looks at the five boys sitting at the table, a collection of bottles scattered across the wood, and Julie smiles at Bobby who’s standing up to hug Carrie, opens her mouth to say hello before stopping. Her brows furrow as she locks eyes with a shaggy haired brunette who’s own eyes are widening in realisation.

“You!” She blurts out before she can stop herself, and if anyone asks she would blame it on the three drinks she had before leaving the dorms, detangling her fingers from Flynn’s to point at him. With the music blaring so loud only the boys still sat at the table and Flynn heard her, the latter turning to raise her brows while Julie can see the boys trying not to laugh.

“He’s the guy who spilt coffee on my jacket earlier,” she shouts over the music, hand gesturing wildly at the table and Flynn follows her hand, eyes resting on the culprit.

“That was her favourite jacket!” Flynn props one hand on her hip and almost glares at him, but it loses part of its ‘scare factor’ when she starts swaying a little in place to the music. Well, Julie thinks it should lose some of it’s scaring power, but the guy still looks kinda worried, so who’s Julie to know?

“I said I was sorry!” He puts his hands up, shoulder raising to almost his ears, and with his eyes already open so wide and his hair curling slightly at the ends, Julie has to wonder how much trouble that look has gotten him out of over the years.

“You guys have already met?” Bobby jumps into the conversation before Julie has a chance to reply and Carrie is looking between them, lips pursed.

“This is the girl whose jacket Luke ruined earlier,” the blonde one says and Julie vaguely recognises him as being one of the boys from the cafe.

“Dude,” Bobby raises his eyebrows at the jacket ruiner – Luke, Julie reminds herself – shaking his head in disappointment.

“It was an accident!” Luke turns his sad kicked puppy look on Bobby before looking back at Julie, his hands lowering but his eyes still drastically wide, “I really am sorry about it.”

Julie tries, she really does, to hold on to that small kindle of annoyance that she’d felt upon seeing him again. But well, the jacket is already ruined and she’s come out to avoid doing an essay and she’s finding it really hard to be mad at someone so cute. Blowing out a breath she shakes her head at him.

“It’s fine, I’ll forgive and forget the whole thing if you buy me a drink.”

“That I can do,” the furrow in his brows smooths out and his shoulders relax and suddenly there’s a smile spreading across his face that seems to light up his eyes.

“So, you’ve met Luke. That’s Reggie, he’s our bassist,” Bobby nods at the dark haired guy sitting next to Luke who grins and waves, and it’s such an infectiously happy wave that Julie can't help but wave back. “Alex, kickass drummer,” the blonde who spoke earlier ducks his head a little, an almost shy smile on his face as he nods at them, “And Willie. Officially he’s one of our roadies, unofficially he’s just here to hype us up and do cool tricks in empty arenas.” Willie, who’s sat pressed against Alex’s side, raises his hand in a wave.

“This is Julie and this is Flynn,” Carrie points at them each before claiming the seat next to Alex and looking at Luke, “We’ll take 3 vodka lemonades. Please.” She only adds the please on the end after Flynn sits next to her, nudging her elbow into her side, Julie notices with a smile.

There’s a moment of bodies moving as Luke gets up from his side of the table, pulling Bobby along with him towards the bar and Reggie is waving his hand at her, nodding at the empty space along the bench next to him that she slides into gratefully.

They can’t really see the stage set up from here, but the music is still just as loud and Julie starts nodding her head along to the beat, trying to focus on the conversation happening on the other side of the table. Something about Carrie’s group and choreography and convincing someone to add in a dance break to a song. She’s laughing at something Willie said when a glass is slid across the table in front of her, a bottle of something passing over her to Reggie and she looks up in time to see Luke sliding into the space next to her, a small smile on his face.

“Forgiven and forgotten?” He asks, eyebrow quirked as he lifts his own drink, tilting it towards her in invitation.

“Forgiven and forgotten,” she agrees picking her glass up and tapping it against his beer bottle, shooting him a smile of her own before chasing the straw of her drink to take a sip, trying hard not to blush at the intensity of his stare.

//

It’s two hours later, three drinks and a deeply regrettable shot later, happily on the precipice of truly drunk but hanging out in tipsy land, when Julie shakes her head at Luke who’s standing on the bench. Tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he writes on the curved brick of the ceiling.

“Dude no ones gonna be able to even read that!” Reggie complains from next to her, his eyes squinting as if it will help him to read their names better. It doesn’t, Julie’s already tried.

“Why did we let the one with the worst handwriting do this?” Alex tilts his head to look up at Luke, who waves the hand not holding the pen in his face, almost hitting him but missing by several inches to the left and it sets them all off giggling.

“Because the rest of you are cowards!” He wobbles a little as he shuffles his feet to change angle, and Julie reaches out on instinct to hold his leg, fingers wrapping around his calf as if it will stop him from falling. His head drops down to look at her, teeth biting his bottom lip as he smiles at her quickly before going back to the ceiling.

To leave his – their – mark on a legendary musical site. Luke's words, the rest of them hadn’t been able to talk him out of it so they’d gone right into encouraging.

“I think you’re getting cowards and idiots mixed up,” Carrie mutters, head propped up on her hands, elbows resting on the table. Well, Reggie and Julie and Willie had gone straight to encouraging, the others were still on teasing.

“Do you want your name added or not?” Luke grumbles but Julie can see his pen moving, going over the letters of what she assumes is meant to be Dirty Candi, and bites her cheek to not laugh.

“Don’t forget it’s an ‘i’ instead of ‘y’ for candy!” Flynn leans forward, eyes on the ceiling as she shouts up at him and Luke says something, but it’s too quiet for any of them to hear.

It isn’t until he moves to get off the bench that Julie realises she still has her hand wrapped around his calf, her fingers idly tapping along to the song some guy with a guitar is playing behind them. Heat fills her cheeks (that she’ll blame on how warm it is in the club and the alcohol in her system thank you very much) as she lets go, pulling her hand back into her lap, watching from the corner of her eye as he jumps down and back into his seat, a proud smile on his face.

“Now when we’re big and famous people can come and hunt our names down.”

“And finally realise that you have awful writing and question how any of our songs get written,” Bobby grins at him, elbow nudging his side which sends Luke leaning into her to try and avoid it, sliding along the bench until there’s no space between them, and she can’t find it in herself to be too mad about it. He smells like tequila and mint and aftershave all mixed together, not really a good combination, but one she finds herself liking anyway.

“Well why don’t you start writing the songs, huh?” Luke retorts, and starts a back and forth with Bobby, Alex chiming in and Flynn watching it all like a tennis match, and Juile tries to follow it, but all she can think about is how Luke hasn’t moved back. How his thigh is pressed against her leg and his arm is resting around her back, hand near her hip and how if she wanted to, she could rest her chin on his shoulder and kiss his neck.

Not that she wants to kiss his neck. Does she?

Julie furrows her brows, biting her lip as she examines those thoughts, tries to decide if it’s the alcohol or the music or her lack of sleep or if she just wants to kiss him.

Flynn says something and it makes him laugh, loud and bright and unrestrained, head thrown back and eyes closed. And yeah, she just wants to kiss him. Fuck.

//

Reggie slings an arm around her shoulders, the other going over Flynns and tugging them together until their cheeks are all pushing together and Julie giggles, poking at his side with her partially trapped arm.

“What do we think chocolate tequila is like?” He asks, eyes glued to the chalkboard menu above them.

“Not as nice as the summer fruits one,” Julie says back, wrinkling her nose a little at the memory of when she’d tried it. If you liked chocolate, it was a bitter disappointment in her opinion. But she was also drunk enough now not to mind.

“Alex says we can’t get the coffee one. Thinks we’ll have a repeat of the red bull incident.” Luke appears on her other side, pushing his body into the small gap between her side and the next group of people. He’s stood so he’s facing her – them – and rests one arm on the counter top.

“Man he’s gotta get over that, it was one time,” Reggie mutters and Julie wants to ask what the ‘red bull incident’ is, but then Flynn is sliding three shot glasses towards them, salt and limes following, apparently having ordered without any of them noticing.

“We’re standing with mango!” Flynn shouts, shot already in one hand and salt on the other, clearly waiting for the three of them to catch up. Reggie lowers his arms and Julie can feel Luke’s hand brush past her arm as he moves to lick the back of his hand, she can feel herself flushing as she watches him do it. And is happy to note that he flushes just the same as he watches her lick her hand in turn.

Idly, Julie notices that Reggie counts them down, that Luke inclines his head at her before he lifts his shot to his lips, that Julie lifts her own, the liquid sliding down her throat with a slight burn that’s not eased at all by the lime she bites into. She squeezes her eyes shut against it and when she opens them sees Luke grinning at her, eyes full of something she can’t name but makes her want to blush again.

“Y’know what? Screw Alex, four of the coffee my good man!” Reggie shouts next to her, waving a hand at the bartender in front of them who just rolls their eyes but puts out four more shot glasses.

“Okay, you gotta tell us about the red bull incident,” Flynn finally asks what had been nibbling at the back of her mind from the moment Luke had spoken so she pulls her attention away from him and back to her friends as Reggie launches into his story that even grabs the attention of the bartender for a moment.

But Luke is a warm presence at her side, leaning into her space and breath ghosting against her neck as he chimes in the story. If she stepped back, just a little, she could lean her back against his chest. She wonders if he’d wrap an arm around her waist to hold her steady? Julie blinks and blows out a breath, raising an eyebrow as Reggie talks.

“Wait, how’d you get onto the roof?”

//

“So why Liverpool?” Luke asks, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat as they aimlessly walk through almost empty streets, faint music coming from clubs and other drunk people giggling in doorways. The fresh air has helped a little to sober her up, but not enough for her to know where they’re going. But they’re following Carrie, who has a plan for the night and they’ve no option but to follow it.

Julie wraps one arm around herself, the other pushing hair over one shoulder as she thinks about it. There isn’t really a big fancy answer, no special reason for her choice, she shrugs at Luke, lips ticking up into a smile.

“It was the only place still with spots open,” she can see the slight confusion on his face and explains more, “I wasn’t going to take the study abroad year, but I changed majors and I needed to get away from home for a while. Carrie and Flynn had already signed up and the internet said the train didn’t take too long to get to Manchester or Glasgow.”

“You changed majors?”

Of all the things she’s said that hadn’t been the part she’d thought Luke would zone in on. It wasn’t really something she liked to talk about much, her fall away from music. She still loved it, still listened and wrote and sang, but the passion she’d once had, the magic she’d once felt whenever she sat at a piano? It had gone away. Had been gone for a long time. Had been gone for four years and she’d only been pretending she still felt the magic.

Everything she played or wrote was missing something and no one had seemed to notice but here.

It hadn’t been until one of her teachers in first year had pointed something out that Julie had finally confessed. And changed course and major the next week.

Everyone had tried to understand, had listened as she explained why she couldn’t do it. How her mom and music were so intertwined together in her head and her heart that it felt impossible to detangle them, to love and play music without always feeling like there was something missing. But she knew they didn’t really get it

So she’d signed up for the study abroad, and picked Liverpool because they had a good English Lit course and was close enough to her friends if she needed them. Okay, so maybe she’d lied a little, there was a fancy answer for why she’d moved, but picking Liverpool had just been random.

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and glances ahead of them, where Willie has Alex clinging on to his back, running through a puddle and laughing loud and clear. She can’t help but smile at them, at the carefree way Willie spins around and Alex holds tighter, face red with whatever he’s trying to say between laughs. Luke must follow her gaze because he lets out a soft snort of laughter, and she can see him shake his head from the corner of her eye.

“I’d hate them if they weren’t so adorable together,” he muttered, but his gaze is soft as they both watch the couple; Willie lets Alex off his back and grabs hold of his hand before he had a chance to get too far away. They’re all soft eyes and teasing smiles and vibes that scream about being in love, you’d have to be blind not to see it. Julie looks away, feeling like she’s intruding on a private moment as they share a kiss.

“Tell me about the tour,” Julie says, drawing Lukes attention back to her and it’s the right thing to say because his face lights up with a smile that she’s sure is going to drive girls wild one day soon.

//

Julie nods along with the song blaring through the speakers, mouthing the words so herself as she scrolls through her phone, ignoring the press of bodies crowding the smoking area as best she can. From her spot near the wall, opposite the door, she can see Carrie and Willie and Alex dancing together, wide smiles and heads thrown back.

Flynn and Reggie are talking to a group of people off to the side and Julie can see the way Flynn has pulled her braids over one shoulder and is gesturing to Reggie every few words the way she does when she’s trying to hype someone up (she knows, from having been on the receiving end of it, many times). Bobby, standing with them, seems to find the whole thing hilarious, grinning around the cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Okay, favourite book?” Luke asks, leaning in close to be heard over the noise and if he doesn’t move back, well Julie’s not about to complain. The little space heaters on the wall don’t provide much warmth, and it’s January and she’s cold and someone ruined her jacket.

“Currently or of all time?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she turns her head a little to look at him. Her heart stutters for a second at how close his face is to hers, she can see the small flecks of green in his eyes, can feel his breath ghost across her cheeks.

“Current,” he says and she can see as his eyes flicker down to her lips quickly before back up to her eyes and Julie really hopes she’s not blushing right now.

“Stardust. By Neil Gaiman. I’m reading it for one of my classes and it hits all the boxes for a fairytale.” She likes fairy tales, likes the idea of them, likes the message of true love and pure of heart and happily ever afters. This one just happened to involve lightning pirates which was a bonus. Okay, so maybe the lightning pirates were mostly a film detail, but still. “Favourite food?”

“There’s this little hole in the wall place down by the strip? They do the best cheeseburgers. If I could have one for every meal, I would.”

They’re still standing close together, eyes staring too intensely for a game of twenty questions and comments about cheeseburgers and Julie’s eyes flicker to his lips, can see the way they’re pulling up a little on one side. She wants to lean forwards, close the gap between them and press her lips against his. But then she shivers, shoulders hunching up around her ears as she rubs her bare arms, conscious of how close they’re sitting and how much she just kind of wants to steal his body heat.

“Are you cold?” He’s biting his lip, pulling back out of her personal space and Julie almost whines at the loss of contact and body heat and – well maybe she’s too drunk to be making smart choices right now if she’s five seconds away from whining.

“Well someone ruined my jacket,” she points out, eyebrows raised at him and is rewarded with his cheeks flushing and one hand rubbing at the back of his neck which she’s quickly coming to realise means he’s embarrassed or just a little flustered.

“I thought we’d agreed to forgive and forget about that?” He mumbles and before she can come up with a response Luke is standing up, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and then he’s carefully draping it over her shoulders, fingers tapping lightly on her arm until she holds it out for him to slip through one arm hole, doing the same on the other side and then pulling her hair out from under the collar.

It’s too big on her, but the faux fur inside is soft on her skin and still warm from Luke and she can stick her thumbs through the little gaps created by the fastened buttons and if she turned her head a little she could smell his aftershave clinging to the collar. Julie can’t help the little smile that graces her face, rotating her shoulders to let the coat settle better on her body.

Looking up at him her brows furrow a little at the look on his face (if she wasn’t so drunk and giddy and tired she’d say it was something like awe but that made no sense. Why would Luke be looking at her in awe while she wore his jacket?), but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared and he’s smiling at her, that wide smile from back at the start of the night when he’d handed her her drink and she’d tapped it against his.

“Thanks,” she tilts her head to the side, loose curls falling across her cheeks as she looks at him, a wide smile of her own and she opens her mouth to say something else – though she’s not sure what she’s going to say – when another voice cuts through and pops the little bubble they’ve created.

When did they even create their private conversation bubble? Julie doesn’t know, and from the way Luke’s head whips around to land on Flynn and Reggie and Bobby with wide eyes, he probably doesn’t know either. But it’s nice to know that he’d been enjoying their conversation as much as she had.

“We’re gonna get food, come on!”

//

“I wanted to be wrapped up in bed an hour ago,” Julie sighed but there’s no real annoyance in her tone as she hugs Luke’s jacket closed tight across her chest, shoulder brushing against his arm as they walk.

“But you also wanted pizza instead of McDonalds like everyone else.” And Luke has a point but she still pulls a face, sticking her tongue out at him and getting a laugh in return. She couldn’t even be annoyed at it, he had a nice laugh.

Plus, when she’d said she wanted pizza Luke was the only one who’d wanted to come with her, the rest of their friends going back to their hotels. He’d walked all the way to the takeaway with her, shared half of his chips and then started walking her back to her dorm, insisting on carrying her half eaten pizza too. It was all very sweet and kind and not helping her not want to kiss him.

“Where’s your first stop?” She asks, because he was about to start a tour and she had school and maybe if they were both back home they might have been able to give something a go, but they weren’t and Julie wasn’t really a one night stand kind of person.

“We’re heading up to Newcastle on Sunday to kick it all off,” there was a slight bounce in his step, his excitement almost palpable and Julie could tell that this was all he’d ever wanted. To play music to as many people as he could. A small part of her remembered what that was like, to want to share your songs with the world.

“Sing something!” She pulled him to a stop in the middle of the street, bouncing a little on the balls on her feet and grinning at him. Because she was still a little drunk and she missed feeling excited about playing music and here was this sweet charming guy who loved it so much and felt it with everything he had and Julie wanted to be like that again too. She wanted to think about music without it being tinged with sadness.

“What?” He laughed, eyes a little wide and glassy and with his hair looking more wild then it had when they’d started the night, but Julie was pretty sure she looked the same so she didn’t comment.

“Sing! Anything! Please?” Julie tried pouting at him, doing her best impression of Carlos and his puppy dog eyes and something about it must have worked because Luke huffs out a laugh as he looks at her, biting his lip in thought for a moment before he nods his head for them to keep walking before he starts singing.

His voice is a little rough, from screaming lyrics in the clubs and shouting to be heard in the bars, and his words are a little slurred because he’s a little drunk and a lot tired, but Julie’s sober enough to decide it’s one of the best versions of Mamma Mia she’s ever heard. As he gets to the first chorus she joins in.

They were just two slightly drunk young adults, singing in the street and if nothing else comes of his night she’ll always have this memory of unadulterated joy.

“You can sing,” he whispers and now it’s Luke’s turn to pull her to a stop with a hand on her arm and a look of wonder on his face. Julie shrugs a little and can feel her cheeks heating, but she keeps their eye contact and smiles at him.

“Only drunk in the streets.” Which is more true then he’ll ever know.

Luke opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off by pointing over his shoulder at the building behind them.

“This is me.” She’s not sure what to do now, take her pizza and run? That seems a little rude, and unsafe. Julie’s not sure she can actually run in these shoes without falling. Luke looks over his shoulder quickly before looking back at her, blowing out a breath and nodding.

“Right, right.” He seems just as unsure as she is about what to do now, which makes Julie feel a little better about it.

“I should–”

“Can I–”

They both start at the same time and then Julie is laughing and Luke is huffing out a breath while a smile grows on his face. The only thing between them is a pizza box and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes keep flickering down to her lips.

“I can’t kiss you!” She blurts out, a hand quickly going up to cover her mouth and Luke’s eyes widen, taking a half step back, retracting his hand like he’d been burnt.

“That wasn’t– I– this–” Luke started stuttering, face going red and Julie quickly shook her head at him.

“That came out wrong! Fuck. I–” She curled her hands into fists at her sides, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them, “I want to kiss you, but I can’t.”

The shock on his face had softened at the start of her sentence only to morph into confusion at the end.

“You’re gonna have to explain this to me, Molina.” Luke still looks confused, but he’s still standing in front of her and that’s enough for her.

“I like you,” she dips her head as she says it, because Julie’s pretty sure she could really like him if given the chance, “but I’m no good at one night...things and you’re about to go on a tour and I’m stuck here and I just, I think– I think I’d like us to be friends. I think we could be really good friends actually.”

Because they’d only spent a few hours together and she’d laughed and smiled more in that time then she had in awhile. Luke was sweet and funny and had something to say about every song the DJ picked to play but sang along anyway. Which is why she doesn’t want to risk a friendship for one night in bed. The confusion on Luke’s face turns into understanding and the soft, slightly sad smile that he gives her tells Julie that she’s right. A friendship with him would be better than one really fun night.

“I get it,” and he carefully puts his hand back on her arm, squeezing slightly before pulling away. “And, for the record, I’m not very good at one night things either.”

Her heart beat sounds loud in her ears and it takes Julie a moment to refocus her thoughts. Friendship. No kissing. Friendship.

“Well, maybe if we can keep a friendship going until we next see each other we can try this moment again,” she waves her hand around them with a small laugh. They could probably keep a friendship going long distance, but Julie isn’t so sure that they’ll ever get a moment like this again.

“Deal,” Luke grins down at her and pulls his phone out of his back pocket and unlocks it, Julie raises her eyebrows at him when he holds it out for her, “In order to keep in touch we’re gonna need to exchange numbers.”

“You make a point,” she agrees, putting in her information and handing it back to him in exchange for her pizza box. “Text me when you get back to your hotel, okay? So I know you didn’t get lost.”

“Yes, boss.” His smile is a little teasing now and Julie shakes her head at him as she brushes past him to walk into her dorm. She’s half way across the road when stops in her tracks to turn back at him.

“Wait, I’m still wearing your jacket.” Julie stars to shrug the item off when Luke shakes his head, already starting to walking backwards down the street.

“No, keep it!” He shouts with a smile, “Means we’ll have a reason to see each other again and have another go at this.”

Julie just shakes her head at him with a laugh, watching as he walks away before tightening her grip on the box and finally making it into her dorm. She’s still got an essay to write and a pile of laundry to put away and magic in music is still missing, but she’s gotten herself a new jacket and a friend who she thinks could make her life a little brighter. So she’ll forgive and forget that she's home an hour later than promised.