#I just got ANOTHER parking ticket for the same reason as last time

[thehateinc]

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[heliads]

I would like to request a one-shot where the female reader is a paramedic and Jack from Now You See Me has a crush on her and keeps doing things that result in minor injuries in the hopes that she will be the one to patch him up

i will love now you see me (and dave franco) until the day that i die

masterlist

If you were going to thank the Four Horsemen for anything, you’d owe them a great deal just for getting you out of yet another boring workplace training. Other people across the world can love the magicians for the money they scatter across their performances, or the thrill of getting into one of their exclusive shows, or just to appreciate someone getting one up on the FBI. There are many reasons to be a fan of the Horsemen, and yours has to be the most mundane.

In your defense, you’ve been hideously overworked for what must be years at this point, and at least this is one afternoon you can relax. You knew what you were signing up for when you decided to become a paramedic, but that doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate a bit of down time when it comes to you.

The marvelous performances of the Four Horsemen don’t usually involve a whole lot of injury, but ever since one of the original shows ended with an FBI agent getting tackled by fifteen people under deep hypnosis, it was determined that having a few paramedics around couldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Usually, the shows are in lavish places across the planet, but this time, they announced that they’d be putting on a display right in your city.

You were excited when you first heard the news, much like anyone else. Even if all tickets sold out within a few minutes, just the thought that the world famous magicians would be so close to you was thrilling. There could be magic right in front of your nose and you wouldn’t even know it unless they snapped their fingers. Maybe they’d cross your path without you realizing it. Maybe they’d even stay next door to your home.

Your schedule was filled during their performance, so you knew there wasn’t a chance that you’d actually get to see a second of their show. There will always be YouTube videos, someone uploading a grainy video from the nosebleeds of whatever venue hall the Horsemen have decided to occupy, but it wouldn’t be the same as being there in person.

You’d assumed you’d be distracting yourself from thoughts of whatever exquisite show was going on down the street with some lovely mandatory trainings. Unless your squad was called upon for an accident, you’d have to content yourself with lackluster meetings and the like. 

That was the case until you got the call that you’d actually be at the event hall. In a professional capacity, of course, but still, it was closer than you thought possible. The city had decided that it would be a good thing to have a few medical professionals on hand just in case something happened. There had been a handful of faintings and a small stampede at the last show, so you can understand why you and a few of your coworkers were called out here.

Most of you will be staying outside near your ambulance, parked just out of view. One or two paramedics are stationed inside, but you’re all going within the venue now just to get a feel for how the place is set up. Odds are nothing major happens, but it’s still fun to peer around and imagine what might be going on later that day.

The show won’t start for another hour or so, but the Horsemen are still kind enough to greet you and point out the major entrances and exits. You aren’t allowed to look around too closely, of course; half the fun of the magic is that no one knows it, not even the medical staff, but you can guess at the areas they’re keeping from you and what that might entail.

In all honesty, you’re kind of distracted from peering too closely behind various curtains by one of the Horsemen. Although you’ve never been to one of their shows before, that didn’t stop you from picking out a favorite:  Jack Wilder, the cutest, or so you tell your friends between bouts of laughter and over drinks.

And, by all twists of fate, he seems most interested in you. He stutters twice over his one-syllable first name, and tries both to shake your hand and hold it, too. He got distracted when you smiled at him, you think, but that didn’t stop the rest of the Horsemen from shooting each other knowing glances, especially when Jack insisted that you be one of the paramedics to stay inside the venue. Just in case, you know.

The rest of the Horsemen file away to their dressing rooms or wherever they go to practice their tricks one last time, but Jack sticks around a little longer. The other paramedic staying in the venue with you opts to scout out the surrounding hallways, but you take the seat Jack offers you and he sits down too, grinning like he’s the audience and you’re the main attraction.

“Don’t you have to go back with the rest and rehearse your show?” You ask, teasing him lightly.

Jack shakes his head a little too quickly. “No, no, I’m good. Always good. Besides, if I did that, how would I get to know you?”

You laugh. “I suppose that’s a good point. Do you flirt with all of the paramedics you meet at your shows or just me?”

“Only the prettiest ones,” Jack grins, “although you’ve blown any competition out of the water, I can assure you that.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up when he says it, and you look away quickly to regain your composure. “That’s nice of you to say.”

You can still see the ghost of Jack’s smile out of the corner of your eye, blinking in your mind like you’ve stared too long at the sun. “I only speak the truth, of course.”

He looks like he has plenty more to say, but Daniel Atlas appears at the corner of the stage, looking irritable and tapping the watch at his wrist. “We need you, Jack. Quit flirting and help us, will you?”

Jack groans. “Always such a control freak. I hate to leave you alone like this.”

You swat him lightly on the shoulder. “I’ll survive somehow. Go handle Daniel.”

Jack grins again, but he’s still looking disappointed. “Can I talk to you after the show, at least?”

You make a face. “I don’t know. We’ll probably handle any injuries, if there are any, then head back pretty quickly.”

Jack’s brow furrows, thinking something through. “Alright. Okay. That makes sense. I’ll be sorry to miss you, though.”

You smile up at him. “It was nice to meet you, Jack.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he says in a rush, standing up quickly when Daniel shouts for him again.

You let yourself sit there for a moment or two longer, giddy over the undivided attention of one of the prettier boys you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, then head back out of the performance hall to go find your other paramedic. They’re a friend of yours, have been for a while, and so they greet you with a raised eyebrow and a question about if you’ve managed to secure a second date with your little magician for later that night.

You roll your eyes, but inside your heart can’t help but do a slow loop in your chest. He’s certainly charming, the Horseman, you only hope that his affections were genuine and not him trying to set up a trick for later that evening.

You’re able to peek through a window to see most of the show, which is as stunning as all the critics claim. You head back to the ambulance once the performance, tending to a few minor injuries like people forgetting insulin or getting their hand stuck in a door on the way out. You’re assuming it’ll be another ordinary day until you look up and see Jack standing in front of you again.

He grimaces at you, embarrassed. “Managed to slice myself open a little during the show. Would you mind patching me up, Doc?”

You reach for some bandages behind you with a grin. “Too cocky with our tricks, were we?”

Jack nods, feigning sadness. “My pride may never recover. Can I get a kiss while you’re here? You know, to help with the healing process?”

You arch a brow. “I don’t think that kissing an open wound would be all that sanitary. I can’t recommend it.”

“What about here instead?” Jack asks, tapping his cheek. 

You laugh at the hopeful expression on his face, then, in a rush of adrenaline you expect just as little as Jack, lean forward and do as told. The look in his eyes could trick any girl into falling for him, and if you hadn’t already had an inkling of feelings for him, perhaps you have a little more now than before.

He’s pulled away soon enough, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget that day. It’s certainly a memory you’ll treasure for a while. All’s well that ends well, though, and you’re in the ambulance driving back soon enough, staring out at the road zipping by you like you’ll be able to sight him again if you just look hard enough, just want him enough.

You don’t know how long the Horsemen will be staying in town, if they haven’t already left, yet one week later, the news starts blaring headlines about how the magicians’ next show will be here again. Here, in your city. In your reach. It seems impossible– they don’t repeat locations without a good reason, but yet so it is.

You insist a little quickly on being a part of the paramedic team to cover the new venue, even though the times don’t quite line up on your schedule. A few days’ time finds you waiting by the ambulance after the second show of the by now very famous Horsemen, looking around with too much foolish hope. 

You’re about to give up on the idea that you’d ever see Jack again– who were you kidding, after all, thinking that he’d be interested in you more than a passing crush on a pretty face– and then there he is, heading quickly down the stairs, walking directly towards you.

He holds up his hand, and you can make out a small dash of blood before he’s excitedly telling you about how he managed to cut himself again, can you believe that, and how are you anyway? Jack didn’t see you in the venue, only two other paramedics, and he was starting to think that you weren’t coming until he looked out and saw you.

You listen to his delighted wave of words, then speak once you’re able to. “This is a pretty small wound, Wilder. I’m assuming you would be able to patch it up by yourself.”

Jack’s face falls. “Shoot, you’re right. Wait, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

You laugh when he turns to run, grabbing his hand so he can’t leave. “Are you going to go back inside so you can make a worse wound? That’s absurd, you know that.”

Jack’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, caught in the act. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. No magician would ever fake an injury.”

“Not even to talk to a paramedic they like?” You ask, the picture of innocence.

Jack chuckles. “Well, maybe in those circumstances. I feel like it’s understandable, though. I don’t want to distract you from your work, you know, but I do want to see you. A lot, actually.”

You haven’t let go of his hand yet, you realize, but you find that you don’t really want to. “Alright,” you tell him, “How about something else? I’m free for dinner tomorrow night if that works with you.”

Jack’s eyes light up, fireworks in rowan wood. “That’s perfect, actually. I’d love that.”

Someone appears behind him– Henley, fresh from their show. “Are you two finally going out? Good, he insisted on switching the location of our second performance to be here again because he couldn’t ask the first time.”

Jack turns around, expression dawning with horror. “You said you weren’t going to do something like this. You said.”

Henley just grins. “I couldn’t resist.”

“I’m just glad you moved the second show,” you smile, “I was worried we wouldn’t be able to talk again.”

“We’re going to talk a lot,” Jack promises, “I just need Henley to apologize for interrupting.”

“Not a chance,” she says gleefully, much to Jack’s dismay.

They’ve been lingering for a while now, so you’re not surprised when Henley starts to head away again. Jack looks between her and you again, knowing that it’s time to go.

“Text me,” he pleads, “we’ll set this up, alright?”

You watch him go, and it takes a few minutes before you realize that you don’t have Jack’s number. When you reach in your pocket for your phone, though, you notice a playing card stuck to the back of the case. It’s the Queen of Hearts, and there’s a number scrawled hastily on the surface. 

You laugh to yourself. Falling in love with a Horseman certainly won’t be boring, but who would want that? You have Jack. The best trick was winning him, and you’ve come up with the best hand. Nothing could make you happier.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

now you see me tag list: empty for now!

[heartfullofleeches]

RuthieLand

 Yandere Amusement Park Staff [F,M,G.N/NB] + G.N Reader

Summary: A proper intro into Ruthieland. A park full of fun and colorful characters. A few with their eyes on a certain someone.

Word Count: 2.8k

The letter in your small hands is drenched in sweat, and the sticky combination of spilled soda and melted ice cream. You were the last to get up from the picnic table, placing you right at the back of the line of antsy children waiting to pass off their papers to the teacher waiting at its front. The excitement felt throughout the day dissipates the closer you get; your eyes locked on the untied pair of shoes beside you to avoid seeing just how many students you'd be competing with. The owner of the mitch match sneakers grips the sleeve of your coat, working their bandaged fingers into its opening to hold your hand with a comforting squeeze.

“Don't worry, Y/n. I’m sure you'll win.”

“I don't know…. The whole class is trying.”

“I can always ask my dad to pick you.”

Your anxiousness dies with a giggle of disbelief; your elbow gently nudging the other child's shoulder. “No way! That’s cheating. Besides, the main reason I want to win is to spend more time with you, but you said you don't even like it here that much.”

Their hold grows tighter.

“I'll go anywhere, as long as you’re with me.”

-

Knock- Knock-

A pause.

Knock-

“Just a minute!” 

You pause the brainrot currently playing on the TV, and dust off your clothes as you walk over to the front door. The alarm you set for the occasion goes off the second you rise to your feet. Huh. Tv- Bit later than usual today. On most days, your visitor arrived five minutes before it went off, even when you adjusted the schedule to the new time. Opening the front door, a shower of confetti meets you with the same familiarity as an old friend; the colorful onslaught sending you a wave of shock no matter how many times you're blasted with it. A sharp gasp comes from behind the barrel of the popper.

“O-oh, crap- Sorry about that, Y/n. Didn’t think you'd be so close this time.”

Dressed in a stereotypical mailman outfit with a new miner changes, the figure shoves the remains in their bag and straightens their back; fixing the rim of their bunny-eared hat over their face. The shadow of a sheepish smile appears under the lid. They extend their hand, holding out a bright pink envelope. 

“Got your tickets for you, same as always.”

You take the paper, bittersweet nostalgia lingering on the tip of your tongue like your favorite food you haven't tasted in ages. Ruthieland. The talk of both children and thrill seekers across the county and beyond. It would’ve been anyone's dream to even have the chance of winning lifelong tickets to an amusement park. Imagine your unfortunate luck to be the one child to win that once in a lifetime prize.

“Thank you, Cass.”

The carrier pulls their hat down further. “It's no problem. I actually have something else for you.”

They retrieve another item from their satchel. A single red rose. You take it with addled glee. Normally you didn't get any extra gifts unless it was at the park, or for your birthday or a holiday. 

“This is.. different.” 

Cass rubs at the back of their neck. “It's from me. I thought it'd be nice to give you something myself after all the time we’ve spent together.”

You can’t help but smile, partly from the guilt racking at your nerves. Cass has been delivering your tickets personally for the better half of two years. They were a reserved individual, only opening up to you about three months ago. In the beginning, they just left your tickets at your door and ran off. You weren't even sure if Cass was their name. It was pinned on a jacket they wore in the winter, and they never argued when you called them by that name. 

“That's sweet of you.” You press your fingers over the seam of the envelope. “Would you like a ticket? I can treat you to a float if you show up one day.”

Cass raises their hands. A dark substance is caked beneath the nails of the hand placed to their neck. “N-no thank you. I’m not good with amusement parks… Too loud and not a big fan of roller coasters. I gotta go. Can't be late. See you next month, Y/n.”

Cass flees the scene, running straight down the block instead of climbing into whatever vehicle they came in. You’ve never actually seen them drive. Hopefully they had some sort of transportation. With your company gone, you open the envelope. Four tickets wait for you in the pouch, decorated with four of the park's most beloved mascots. Ruthie Hare, Farmer Crow, Serenity the Baker, and a newer addition to the crew – Bashy Fox. Four tickets for four days of the month. You figured it was the right amount of days. Anymore and you'd probably get sick of going honestly. Since you had nothing better to do, the timing for their arrival was perfect. 

-

Throwing on some casual clothing, you hop on the nearest shuttle to the park. There was a number you could call for a lift, but taking the stroll felt like a nice start to the day. You lived roughly twenty minutes from the location and the stop was only a five minute walk. Excitement peaks for fellow riders of all ages as the park's largest coaster rolls into view, screaming from its passengers clear as day through the thick glass as the carts loop through the biggest hurdle. That one most likely wasn’t in the cards for you together. Especially after you saw someone losing the horde cotton candy they'd eaten before the ride during your last visit.

Stepping off the bus puts you front and center to Ruthieland's main entrance. The park's main mascot smiles down at you and all the other guests, hand raised in a partial wave.

Ruthie Hare was a silly character, as one would expect from a character originally solely targeted towards children. A root beer loving, flute playing hare with a whole gang of friends waiting inside. The anthropomorphic creature was soft pink in color, a black diamond around his left eye and a spotted bow tie from his early days as a circus mascot. He wore brown overalls with one sleeve always pushed down and large, oversized gloves. He had a bite mark on his right ear the comics and shows based off his gang never explained.

Reading your ticket, you march up to the counter to hand it to the attendee on staff. The woman stares at the sky as she aids another customer, cinnamon sugar powered around the corners of her lips. The hat she wore was dawned with rabbit ears just like Cass', but hers was a baseball hat and the ears had been snipped to keep them out of her face.

“Thank you for visiting our fantastic park today. We hope you have a hop-tastic day, and to see you soon… Or not.”

You walk up to the counter.

“Welcome to-Fuck" The woman wipes at her mouth and fixes her cap, adjusting her collar as she leans against the back of her seat.

“Y/n. Sup. Finally gonna let me treat you to the good shit today?”

Her relaxed attitude is a complete one eighty from how she first acted towards you, and the rest of the park goers. Ell, or Dashiell as her tag read, has been manning the ticket booth since high school; when she isn’t cleaning up messes she’s partly responsible for around the park. She was apparently homeschooled which is why you never saw much of her, and hardly showed emotion except for when you were around or in the company of her favorite snacks.

Like everyone else, she thought little of you in the beginning, but when she became aware of your status she figured it wouldn't hurt to get to know you a little. Majority of her coworkers had picked up on the crush she developed over the years, while you still remained obvious. 

“If I’m still here when you get off, then sure.” You pass her your ticket. Ell wipes it through the reader and shoves it directly into her pocket rather than the bin by her post.

“Gonna hold you to it. If I catch word you bailed on me, I'll find out where you live.”

Ell plays off the threat with a pat on your shoulder. “Alright, you better get going. Don't need the head of the lap dogs biting my ass again for holding up the line.”

You heed the warning and take your chance to go on ahead. The last time Ell was able to brew up a conversion, it took nearly a half hour to find your way out. Luckily it was a slow day. Finally entering the park, your senses are overloaded by the smell of buttered popcorn and sugar, and the amplified screams and laughter of everyone else at the park. Today felt like one of those easy days. Just a couple of the more relaxed rides and maybe a look at the other types of attractions till the firework show later in the evening. Maybe it was finally time to go back to the carnival area. 

“Well. Well. Well. Look what we have here.” 

The thick southern drawn slithers up your back like the snake the shadow behind you was. You watch from the silhouettes on the ground as its arm reaches over your shoulder, the handle of a shovel keeping you from going anywhere anytime soon.

“Well I'll be- I knew I could recognize that pretty head of hair from any angle. And here I was thinkin' these weary eyes of mine were foolin’ me.”

“Hello, Farmer.”

The farmer chuckles, voice fluid as  molasses and course as gravel. They step in front of you, twirling the rubber tool before planting it in the cracked concrete for support as they lean on it. They lift their head high so they’re able to see you past the rim of their sun hat and the tip of their beak.

“Howdy, there. Ol' friend.” 

Farmer Crow was the periodic villain of the park. A foul tempered soul, who hunted after the main characters for stealing their supplies. A lot of people sympathize with the crook for this reason, though their original methods for getting rid of the crew were – quite harsh.

The farmer was mostly humanoid and leaned slightly more towards scarecrow than anything with burlap skin and straw coming from the sleeves of their flannel shirt. The upper half of their face was fashioned after a regular crow with a long beak and black feathers. The shovel they carried was once a scythe, but after an accident that resulted in a young boy losing his eye, a petition was created to have it changed. 

“I missed ya dearly. Couldn’t catch a wink of sleep without seeing that face of yours. Here. On the house. As a welcome back present” They palm the breast pocket of their shirt and extend their hand, a small pin resting in their gloved palm.

It depicts the character Serenity offering the grumpy farmer a bouquet of roses. She had always been a neutral figure in the group, baking pies and other goods for them all to enjoy. You met the character at the themed restaurant in the park, and she was as sweet as her desserts. She even snuck you an extra treat on those days when you weren't feeling like yourself.

“A special gift fer a special friend. Long as you stay away from that darned rabbit, and all the other troublemakers we can be pals.” Farmer Crow readjusts their grip on their tool. Their tone is quiet, almost hesitant as they continue. “We are pals, ain’t we?”

“Course. Thank you, Crow.”

You take the pin from them. As you do, a group of kids runs up to them for an autograph. One of the older teens bumps right into you and just keeps running ahead. Strange. Farmer Crow grumbles something under their breath, but faces the crowd; body still angled towards you. You wave. 

“I'll catch up with you later, Crow. Try not to murder anyone.”

“I'll try…” 

Continuing ahead, you barely make it ten steps before another person is running up to you.

“Hey, Y/n! Wait up!”

The male catches his breath as you stop, standing to full attention now that your focus is solely towards him. He turns slightly so you can get a good look into his good eye; his right lidded and iris milky.

“You- Whew. Dropped this.” He holds out your phone to you. You slap your hand against the pocket it was held in, unaware of its absence until then.

“Crap. When did that happen? Thank you so much, Atlas.” You return your phone where it belonged. What would you do without this man? A newer hire, but one of the most helpful park employees you had met to date. He helped you out on those scarily frequent occasions you lost your phone or your keys, sometimes driving you home when the shuttle didn’t show. It was honestly no surprise really that he became head of security in such a short time.

Atlas waves off the praise. “It's nothing, Y/n. Just helping out a friend is all. Everything else okay? Need a chaperone around the park? Someone to take you home later?”

“Nah, I'll be fine. I think I’ve been coming to the park long enough to know my way around.”

Atlas looks a little down, but quickly picks himself back up. “I understand. If you need anything, you got my number and I'll be in the back checking the cameras for your every move.”

Realizing his error, the guard backtracks. “N-not that I’m watching you specifically! I meant it like I'll be watching out for everyone, but you especially. Cause I care about you and all.”

Atlas fakes a laugh. “I probably said too much, huh? I'll get out of your way for now. Talk to you another time.” 

The guard politely excuses himself; retracing his steps just to make sure you have his contact information including an email and back up phone. He leaves you to your business and with no further interruptions you go about your day. Getting on your rides of choice, exploring the on-plot museum and trying out some of the seasonal treats. You even meet back up with Ell at one point to fulfill her previous requests. You wonder about blissfully unaware to all the eyes that follow you; a mix of human, faux, and from behind the lens of a camera. 

As the day draws to an end, you finish your trip by sitting on the ledge of the fountain in the middle of the park and watching the fireworks. It was the central hub of the area, giving attendees easy access to all the different junctions. Small droplets of water sprinkle the back of your shirt as the fountain recycles its stream, but you don't mind. Vibrant flashes of color bead across the sky, blinding you momentarily from their brightness and the sheer wonder of it all. If there was one thing you could never get tired of – it was this. With the fireworks soon coming to an end, you stand up. Where did everyone go?

A sharp whistle pierces through the loud booms.

 You look around.

There’s a short breath, before another whistle. The sound stops for a solid five seconds, and then another.

It continues longer this time. You’re able to trail it back to your left, towards the circus themed corner of the park. Your breath quickens. 

Standing right beneath the sign was an all too familiar, buck toothed face. He waves his arm in your direction, drooping ears swaying with the motion. They looked longer than the poster's pictured them to be – every part of him did. 

“Ruthie?”

The hare nods, beckoning you towards him with a finger. You haven’t seen him in ages. While his face was still plastered everywhere, the mascot himself had been retired from walking about for reasons even you didn't know. He points over to the large circus tent at the back of the park, forming a heart with his thin fingers. 

“I can't come with you. The park is going to close soon.”

His arms fall to their sides. He stomps his foot before pointing again. Seeing you won't budge, he steps forward. He moves as though an unseen weight is dragging his body to the ground, dragging the left side of his body forward. Paralyzed by fear, you remain glued to your spot as he nears. The fur around his mouth glistens with a dark substance. As he stands over you, you shut your eyes, fearing the worst. It's only when you hear the mascot shuffling away that you open them.

In your lap is a napkin with two, mug shaped candies nestled in it. Ruthie's favorite. Beneath the sweets are three words.

Some-bunny likes you.

[dre6ming]

Tell me…was it worth it?~I thought you quit~sequel

“I stayed there” series -part II

Masterlist here

〘Part I 〙〘Part III〙〘Part IV 〙〘Part V 〙

To be added to the tag list click here

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader

Warnings: a little swearing, crying, idk I think that’s it, fluff angst

Plot: it’s been three years, but you’re still stuck there with him. Austin got the part for Elvis and finished the movie, he moved on, or so you think. Going back home your luck makes it so that you meet again, but it’s not the same as it was.

Word count: 2100+

Disclaimer: I don’t want to make Kaia a villain, I don’t know her and I have nothing against her, I’m just describing the way I think the reader would see Austin’s gf on the outside.

After that day in the park time went on for the both of you, but differently. For him it past by very fast, two weeks after your break up the news of him getting the role of his life were everywhere, he was doing press in the Elvis voice and you could see it in his eyes that he was lost in this person he now played. He looked happy and you almost forgot you walked for an hour in the cold, butt wet from your fall, tears soaked into the collar of your sweater, you almost forgot and you felt happy for him, but before you went to look for his number in the contacts to congratulate him, you remembered. So you cried.

For you time went on different, somehow slower, you were busy with studying, every day in med school seamed harder than the last, but you loved it, plus every time you wanted to cry from how tired you were over learning so much, his words pushed you further. "Just fucking drop out already" he had said to you, slapping you over the face with that one intrusive thought you had, so you were always pushing on those words to prove you can finish and be a doctor. All the college work helped erase the event from you mind, but his memory was forever alive. There were times when you'd wake up and think it was all a dream, than you'd pull up that picture album and look at it, cause it was in fact true, just always so private. Only your families knew he was your boyfriend, for "privacy reasons" he had said, which made you feel special, he wanted you all to himself. But then again there were those thoughts that he was ashamed you were not a famous girl with a Covergirl bod.

Now it's three years later, a heartbreak  and a pandemic put behind you. You sit in the chair, in the big stadium, dressed in your graduation gown. The say your name, you get up, take the diploma with shaky hands, smile for the picture, get down from the podium, hug your parents and cry, because you're 26 and finally a doctor. At the after party you drink with your best friend (bff/n) and manage to get a little tipsy. As the coordinator gets in the stage to tell you all to settle down, your heart starts to race, the waiters handing out the small envelopes. Each one has the name on the student it belongs to on it and inside is the name of the place where you got accepted for you residency. Your sweaty hands cause the envelope to dampen and to wrinkles at it's edges. You share a look with (bff/n) and you open it.

"New Amsterdam, New York!!" She screams as she got her number one option she wished for. "What did you get?" You look at the name and start to cry, a ticket back home. "Los Angeles community hospital, LA" you say trying to make it believable that you are finally moving back home, after 6 years of medical school in Boston. You are so happy, you hug you best friend and order another round of drinks to enjoy.

-one month later-

As you bring the last box of things into your small two bedroom apartment you smile to yourself. You've made it so far that it seams like a dream, but you are not ready to wake up, if that's the case. You bought the small apartment with the money you still had left in you college fund, since along the years you got scholarships here and there to help pay for your studies. The 50 square meters apartment has a nice cozy vibe, it is an open concept plan, with the kitchen looking into the living room. It's also conveniently just one hour away from the hospital and two hours away from your parents house all the way in Anaheim where you grew up. That's how you met Austin, you were 22 back then and on summer vacation visiting your family. One night when you decided to camp outside and sleep on the nearby beach you met him. At first you didn't know he who he was, you didn't know he was a famous actor, not even after he told you his full name, guess he liked that...until he didn't anymore.

You shake your head at the thought of him, it's been three years, but you never allowed another relationship, you focused on your studies and that was that. Austin on the other hand, while busy with filming Elvis, managed to add 3 new girlfriends to his belt, the most recent one being a 20 year old model. For a while it was easy to forget about him, but then he started promoting the movie and he was everywhere.

You start to unpack some of the boxes and as the sun sets you finished putting everything in your bedroom and part of the kitchen. Too tired to do anything else, you skip dinner and just go to bed. It takes you a full week to settle in, unpack everything and do some shopping. You still have 3 weeks before you start your internship year at the hospital so you pick this Sunday as the best day to finally go over to your parents house and visit them. The drive is nice, but way to crowded for your liking and unfortunately way too hot, that's the one thing you liked about Boston, it was never this hot. Pulling up in your parents driveway, you are reminded of the last time you were here years ago before your break up. It's safe to say you avoided LA for the purpose of not having to face him again, but now it's been years and you're mature and grown. Right?!

You get out of the car, lock it and go inside, where your dad is on the sofa in the living room watching a movie. "Hi dad!" He gets up, big smile on his face. His hug is so tight the air is pushed out of you, so you pet his back to let him know. "My doctor daughter!! Honey, the doctor is home!" He called you doctor since you got into meds school but now that you graduated, he seams to have forgotten you have a name, that is not doctor. Your mom comes from the bedroom and hugs you, she is happy to see you, but she keeps to herself. It's safe to say she's a lot colder than your dad. "It's nice to see you, (y/n)!" She lets go of you and goes back to her business, typical.

After an hour on the sofa with your dad, you decide it would be nice to go for a walk on the beach. You get up, go to your old room, pick a random novel out of your bookcase and go. The sand between your toes feels nice, the warmth of it travels through your body. You pick a place under one of the many palm trees, so you stay covered in the shadow, put your beach towel down and sit. You fly through half of your book pretty fast, the plot captures you so much that when you feel something wet touch your feet, you get startled. The white pup in front of you keeps licking your feet despite you trying to hide them in the sand. You pet it and it makes is way into your lap. Looking up you search for the owner "Sheldon!" You hear a male voice say and as soon as you see him and put a face to the stranger's voice, your whole body grows cold, you want to throw up. He comes near you, but with your head down he doesn't seam to figure out who you are right away, or maybe he just forgot who you were. "Sheldon, come here buddy!" The dog gets up from your lap and goes back to his owner. "I'm sorry, he doesn't really do that, people kinda scare him off" Austin says. His Elvis voice is still with him it seams. "That's ok" you don't look at him, you can't, so you just wait for him to go, but he lingers a moment to long.

"(Y/n)?!" the moment your name leaves his lips, you look up at him, he can now see your face and he can't believe it's really you. "Yeah.." that's all you say as he stays there looking you up and down, you haven't changed at all besides your hair being longer and you maybe losing a few pounds, you still look the same. So does he, but yet it feels like you're looking at a stranger. His hair is back to his natural dark blonde and he looks considerably healthier than he did when you left him in the middle of that park back in Boston. "What are you doing here, I haven't seen you in ages!" Austin stands over you, cream colored pants rolled up and thin white T-shirt moving on his torso with the blow of the wind. You stay quiet, you don't want to talk to him.

"Babe, why did you run like that!" A voice says from behind him. He turns around as the girl approaches him. It's the model. The 20 year old beautiful model. You begin to pack you bag as she puts her arms around his neck and gives him a kiss on the cheek. "I had to catch Sheldon, sorry" he answers, then he turns to you, seeing you pack up to leave. "So how have you been?" He asks. Does he really care? No way he does. "Good." You keep your answer short and cold.

"How's school going?" Oh my gosh you can't believe him, he really wants to do small talk with you now? "Finished." You glance at the girl on his arm she's busy looking at her phone not interested in who he was talking to. "Oh so you dropped out in the end?" You blink turning your head, no way he just slapped you with his words like that. "I graduated, Austin!" His name tastes like poison on your lips. "Oh that's great, congratulations!" You nod, putting you bag on your shoulder as you begin to walk away. "Hey!" You feel his hand on you arm and pull away. He looks at you confused. "What would you say to grabbing a coffee with me sometime?" You know he didn't just ask you that, you know you imagined it, you're crazy, that's what this is. "What?" You look back at his girlfriend, but she doesn't care, preoccupied with something else. "Coffee with me? Casual of course, just to catch up, you know!" He explains pushing his hair back. "No, I'm sorry, but no." And just like that you walk away, crying.

This person you just talked to wasn't your Austin. Your Austin was sweet, shy, reserved, considerate, always careful with his words, gentle and kind. This Austin was something else, some of those things you could still see, but there was arrogance now, cockiness, he was a Hollywood star you guessed.

Back at your parents house after dinner you lay in bed, scrolling through your phone. Involuntarily you open up the contacts app and look at his number, you never deleted it, you kept it. You even unblocked it a week after blocking it, you hoped he'd text you back, to say he got the part and that he was sorry. You wanted him back, or you at least wanted his last words to you to be something more than "I think we should break up!". You close your phone and put it back on your nightstand.

For the rest of the night you toss and turn, you can't shut your mind off , but when you finally fall asleep you dream of him. His voice, his smell and you wake up shaking, licking your lips, somehow tasting him on them. You sit up in bed and take your phone in your hand. Mind cloudy with anger you find his number and start writing your text.

"Tell me! Was it worth it?"

You quickly press to delete it, but you accidentally hit send. Your heart drops in your stomach, you feel like you might pass out. The last text you send him, was still there, he never answered it or if he did you had blocked him and the text never went through. All you can do now is pray he changed his number.

That hope dies fast as you see the 3 bubbles indicating he was writing back to you, appear on your phone.

Fuck? What is he going to say?

[hailieshapedbox]

ohhhh i just realized why i have no desire to sleep even though i in fact am getting tired🤪 my cousin was in psychosis for two weeks on coke off meds and two days ago he took a turn and directed all of his pain and anger at me n was talking shit about me saying vile things (mostly about being lesbian) till 4 am two days ago and till 6am last night. walking in the living room where i was juggling a knife and scraping it on our roomates doors, throwing n stabbing oranges around the house till he got 5250’d in the morning. i hope hes having an alright time in there he really needs help and hopefully rehab and hopefully he finally wants the change that he might not know he needs and actually does want. ya had to vent it out guys thx for reading my run on sentence, im actually tryna lead into a better, personal topic and this plays a part on it so i started there. i uh started recovery in AA 3 days ago and im so fucking happy to finally want to take my life back fully into my own hands and have the drive and ambition that i got easily with alcohol (fucking cop out). ik how this sounds to some people, i went to AA and NA for fun when i was in a grouphome at 17 bc it was another way for us to get off the campus and hangout with the other houses (they called them cottages🏡🕯️🎍☺️). so im very comfortable in that environment, it wasn’t an entirely new concept or energy to me, its been about ten years, but this is my first time coming with a severe desire to change and take back my life into my own hands. ya i had drank in highschool (fuckinn middle school too) but i dont think i ever had to drink and drink and drink till i passout and not be able to stop until im blacked out. that didnt happen till i was 23 in such a chaotic livlihood i couldnt stand any part of my reality, work, home, abusive relationship, i couldnt breathe but i could drink. to the point i was delivering weed from the dispensary drunk. it happened again over the summer for all of the same reasons but this time i had come back to my cousins house to get on my feet and ultimately ended up helping everyone else and their businesses and livlihood more than my own and i was drained out, favor not returned gang. i thought i was gonna stop drinking at the end of summer and i did a few times, a week, two a month but the binges were bad and i was in a lot of dangerous situations recently. everytime i thought i was ready, someone would give me a reason to catch a nice break from the chaos circus life, n who would say no to what sounds like bliss? the last time i drank i didnt even want to, i didnt even wanna go out shit, friend called me crying for help, by the end of the night i needed a relief drink joined got physically hurt (7 minor injuries but some are mid😭), stranded they took off w my phone and wallet in my bag, no sweater at 4am upset in a parking lot not tryna take three hour walk home. a ride from a nice lady w a sketchy guy judging me. how the fuck did it happen again, how easy couldve i prevented this. i had already reached out to a well versed friend that i need to get sober, she said she’d be around in a couple days n we would go. i told her again the next day i needed it even more now and we went that night, which she was wanting to bc she liked that specific meeting. well gang that specific meeting is always gonna be the story to the start of my meeting. i immediately got picked to lead and read through out the meeting on a little stage in front of everyone with the key speaker. as i expected haha, never heard of a lottery meeting like that. i made a home that night, i kept eveyones lottery ticket from the raffle that i picked (and the three left over), i hadnt felt so much support in years, and all at once and a whole room full of people.

i know im only three days in but ive been waiting my whole life to be here.

[gucciwins]

one final chance

Harry and Y/N get a reunion no one was expecting…

Word count: 3324

A/N: hi friends! this is the final part to Confessions l and ll. I wrote Confessions l in  January of 2019 when I had been writing for a few months. The second part came August 2020. This last part now in 2022. I honestly read back the first stories and see how my writing has grown for this last part it might be short but it’s a nice conclusion I think. More writing soon promise! 

 ______________________________________

AUGUST 2021

One thing you take pride in is being a safe driver.

Not a single parking ticket and many people think that’s hard in Los Angeles. No crossing red lights, and never pulled over for speeding. Having begged your brother to teach you once he got his license was easy to convince, and that is how you got your license at sixteen. A license and no car. It wasn’t necessary as Thomas still lived at home, but when finally transferring to a university after two years in community college, he went across the country to New York City. Your big surprise was that he left you his white Toyota Corolla that he took care of as if it were his kid; you vowed to do the same. You didn’t change the car until graduating from university because Thomas was embarrassed you still had it, not that it was ugly or mistreated, just that it was old and you needed an upgrade.

He drove you both straight over to the dealer and let you pick out a car at graduation. That was overwhelming, leading to more tears than car choosing. In the end, you picked out a Jeep Wrangler, a sleek white. It was love at first sight. Also, a car you dreamed about forever, thanks to your brother’s hefty salary, he called it a gift, not letting you pay a dime.

Thomas wanted to get you something nicer and pricier, but you insisted he didn’t. As much as you would have loved whatever car you got, it was not something you needed. You liked not blending in with the rest of Los Angeles.

It’s Wednesday, in the middle afternoon, and having left work early meant avoiding rush hour. You decided to stop by for a smoothie at a place that your friend recommended. A bit pricey, but that’s LA for you.

You are coming up on Sunset Blvd and put your blinker for the right, hearing it blink, checking your mirrors and over your shoulder, seeing no car about to pull into an empty parking spot next to a meter when an easy parking space to slip right in. No need to parallel park today. As you were straightening out the car, when you feel a car slam into you from behind, you’re quick to hit the brakes.

You sit back in the seat, trying to get your breathing under control because a car just hit you.

Another car hit you.

You were just in an accident.

You look over your shoulder seeing the man sitting in his car, shocked. You try to get your focus and park your car quickly, needing to get out and check yourself over and see the damage to your vehicle. You hop out, trying to steady yourself.

You don’t even realize when the car that hits you pulls in to park behind you at a reasonable distance. You pull your phone out of your cardigan pocket, needing to call someone to talk you down, but your hands shake too much. Instead, you settle with leaning your head against the side of your car and focusing on your breathing, counting to thirty. You do that until you feel your hands stop shaking.

The man is getting out of his car, phone already held up to his ear, probably his insurance company. It’s a classic Mercedes Benz; no doubt your insurance will skyrocket, somehow getting blamed for the accident. That is how most cases in Los Angeles go. It might be really time to leave the city now.

“Alright, I’ll update you later.” The man hangs up as you stand there looking at your car.

Getting yourself together, you’re now able to take a look at the back of your car. The damage isn’t as bad as you thought it was. Maybe it was just the initial hit that scared you so much. The left tail light was broken, and there were scratch marks. The paint has peeled off. Easy fix, thankfully.

“I’m so sorry.” The man addresses you finally, shoving his phone in his pocket. You tense up hearing his accent. You’re ashamed to say you do it with every British person you come across.

It used to fill you with dread, but it left you disappointed over time because it was never the person you wanted it to be.

You look away from your car only to lock eyes with a person you have only ever seen in your dreams since that goodbye at your last dinner together.

“Harry,” you breathe out. He’s dressed in black shorts and a Columbia sweater. His hair is full of messy curls pushed back by his sunglasses.

Harry looks just surprised to see you. He scans you head to toe, making sure it’s you and seeing if you’re alright.

“You-I-I can’t believe it’s you,” he breathes out. He doesn’t move his eyes from you as if you might disappear.

You nod, agreeing because what are the chances. You expected to see him at a concert, a mutual friend’s party, or even out at dinner, but never believed it would be like this from Harry hitting your car.

“Are you okay?” You ask, making sure he’s not injured.

“Am I okay?” He repeats, “I hit your car.”

“I’m fine,” you assure him, “a bit shaken up but very much okay.”

“That’s great.” You see him relax just a bit, “I’m okay as well.”

You nod, falling silent.

“I’m sorry, I saw you put your turn signal, but I was going a bit fast and thought I would make it past, but that was not the case. I’ll need your insurance, but I’ll make sure it’s all covered, I promise. It was 100% my fault.” Harry expresses wanting to get the issue resolved.

“Thank you, it’s best we trade info just so we can give both insurances the proper information.” You answer professionally.

“Of course.” Harry opens the driver's side, leans in to pull out a notebook, and rips out a paper, handing you a pen to write your number. You scribble it down, making sure it’s all eligible, and give it to him. He hands you a sheet of paper with his number and his insurance below.

You think this is goodbye, it feels like it, but you can’t bring yourself to do anything about it. “It was great to see you, but I wish it was under different circumstances.”

“I agree,” he smiles.

You run a hand through your hair, turning away from him. If you leave now, this could very well be the last time you see him.

You say screw it.

“You want to grab a smoothie with me?” You point to the building behind you. “It’d be nice to talk.”

Harry is shocked, you can tell, but there is a glimmer of excitement in his green eyes. “I’d really love that.”

“Great. Let me grab my bag.” You open the passenger door before locking it and meeting him at the door.

You go up to the register and take a long look at the menu before deciding and ordering an apple and ginger smoothie; Harry picks mango. He doesn’t fight you on paying, something you’re grateful for.

You take a seat across from each other, silent until your drinks are called, and Harry goes to retrieve them for you both.  

“What are you up to in LA?” You ask.

“Tour preparations. We start in a week.” He shares.

You almost spit your smoothie out. “Shut up, no way.”

Harry tries to hide his disappointment at you not knowing about the tour. “Yeah, it’s Love on Tour. The first show in Vegas…” he trails off.  

You can’t hold it anymore and burst out laughing. “I wish I could have recorded that. You looked so sad thinking I didn’t know, as if Sarah hasn’t told me all about it.”

“You’re mean. You made my heart drop.” Harry says, letting out a deep breath he was holding.

“You have to admit it was good.”

He grumbles whatever.

“Excited for it?”

“Buzzing to be out on the road. Everyone has worked so hard,” he raises his ringed hand to brush through his curls. “I’m proud and ready to share with the fans.”

“Right, I heard you got new bandmates. From what Sarah and Mitch have said, you’re in for a hell of a tour with them.”

Harry blushes, loving the validation thrown his way.

He’s missed you like crazy; he hasn’t dated since you. He knew you’d forever be the one that got away. He hoped you’d walk back into his life, and he was right.

“You should come to our soundcheck tomorrow. I’m sure Sarah would love having you.” He scratches his neck. He’s being very fidgety, a tale sign he’s nervous. “I would as well.”

“I’d love that,” you tell him softly. “You’ll send the address?”

“Yes, three pm” He pulls out his phone, shooting you a text with all the information. “You’re more than welcome to come earlier to hang out and get the feel.”

“I’ll let you know. I need to figure out if I want to drive or get a ride. Have got to fix my car. Driving with a broken taillight will only lead me to being pulled over.”

“I could have Jeff or Tommy pick you up and then drive you home. If you’re okay with that,” he offers.

You smile, “that sounds really nice. Thank you.”

You chat for over two hours in the smoothie place, and before saying goodbye, you confirm Friday.

“I’d call it a date, but it’d be you watching me perform rather than us talking.”

You step into his arms, giving him a hug, happy over the lovely afternoon together. You lean up to kiss his cheek as you pull away.

“I say let’s call it a date, seeing as you’ll be driving me home. Then you can walk me to my door just how first dates should end.”

Harry blushes. “It’s a date.

~~~~~~

The day of the soundcheck. You have changed your outfit three times.

You finally decide on a white loose tank top, pink corduroy pants, and your favorite worn-out Doc Martens that you swear to elevate each of your outfits. You keep your makeup minimal, knowing it is an informal practice.

The car comes to pick you up at three, and it’s Tommy. You had the pleasure of meeting once, but now is the chance to speak more. The conversation jumps from how long you lived in the area and how grateful he is to work with Harry. You tell him you’re old friends with Harry.

Arriving, Tommy brings you through the back entrance, where you spot Sarah. She screams as soon as she sees you.

“You saw me a few days ago.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.”

“How’s bub? I want some cuddles.”

“Sleeping now. Excited to see his favorite auntie when he wakes up.”

She promises to make time for you before you move.

“Y/N?”

You turn around to find Mitch with a sleeping baby strapped to his chest. It’s not a new sight, but it always makes you smile. He’s such a fantastic father.

“Does H know you’re here?” Mitch asked, shocked to see you.

“I texted him that I was with Sarah.” You tell him casually, “Tommy must have let him know.”

Mitch nods. “He’s two doors down if you want to go find him.”

You look panicked. “Should I?”

They nod yes.

“Alright.”

And off you go.

You don’t know your way around their practice space, so you end up at the wrong place as you took a right out of the room you were originally in and not left. You see a woman shutting the door as you finally make it in the right direction. The woman had dark hair and a tan completion from her time in the sun. As she turns in your direction, you recognize her as Harry’s mother, and she’s smiling at you.

“Hi,” you greet. “You’re Harry’s mother, right, Anne.”

She nods proudly, “that’s me.”

Anne keeps her eyes on you before an ever bigger smile sets on her face. “You must be her, the girl he always talks about. I’m sad we’re only just meeting.”

“I’m sorry we never met sooner.” Life happened, but you’re glad for the chance now.

“Nonsense, dear, no apology.” She waves you off, “this boy gets into so much trouble on his own.”

“That he does.” You laugh together.

“Do you want to go in and see him? He’s free.” You’re not sure what to say before you can decide; the door swings open.

“Mum-” He cuts himself off, seeing you standing next to his mother. “Are you two ladies gossiping about me?” He teases.

“Well, of course not. You don’t need your ego-inflating H.” You respond without thinking, surprising yourself and Harry. Anne just looks at you, amused.

“I like her, dear.” She tells Harry. “Now, Y/N, you come to find me, and we can watch them rehearse together right by the sound booth. How does that sound?”

“Perfect, thank you.”

She squeezes your shoulder and then walks away quickly, finding someone new to chat with.

“You just met my mum.” Harry states.

“That I did.”

“Now, you just need Gem.” You nod, not sure where he’s going with this. “How about October? I’ve got a few shows in New York if you’re free.”

“A little presumptuous, don’t ya think?” Your face is neutral, but you’re trying your hardest to stop a smile from surfacing.

“Maybe so, but don’t think I want to go so long without seeing you.”

You admire his honesty.

Together you bask in the silence and decide that you do want that. You do want to meet his sister. He always told you stories of how he looked up to her. You want to meet the equally amazing sister that Anne raised.

“Alright, I accept.”

“You do?” Harry sounds surprised.

“Yeah, I-I also want to spend time with you,” you confess.

“First date, moving a little fast, aren’t you,” he teases.

“Keep it up, and no kiss goodnight for you.”

Harry puts his arms up in defense. He opens his door gesturing for you to come in and hang out. It’s full of his stuff as if he’d been there all week, clothes on the floor. Gucci pillows on the couch, his outfit hanging on the back of the door.

“You look beautiful, don’t think I had a chance to say it.”

“Thank you,” you do a little twirl. “I love these pants. They make my butt look nice.”

Harry looks down, focused on your ass as you do a spin, “I agree.”

“Harry!’

“Not my fault. You were asking for me to look, baby.”

You blush and step close to him, toying with the hem of his sweater. “Baby, huh.”

Harry blushes at your touch and at the term of endearment. “Can I call you baby, or is that moving too fast?”

“I quite like it.” Your gaze fixated on the pearls on his neck. “You look pretty in pearls; it feels very you.”

“Thank you, I quite like it as well. Lambert got them for me as a gift for finishing the album. These are real now. Went around wearing fakes for the longest until Lambert found these.”

“Might be one of his best finds.”

You step away from Harry and go sit on the couch. You don’t hide your smile when he joins you/  You’re on a high it feels surreal being here with him after so long. You focus your gaze on the lettering of his sweater, “I’m gonna die lonely,” an adorable panda in the middle.

“We haven’t discussed the elephant in the room,” you decide to bring up.

Harry reaches for your hand and begins to play with your fingers before slotting them together and resting them on his lap. “I know.”

“It was over a year since we last met at the diner.” Harry nods because he knows he’s been counting the days, not that he’d mention that. “I don’t- I think after a few months, I wondered why I pushed you away if I was now left with missing you like crazy.”

“It was hard, gosh. I started therapy again even though I officially moved back to London. LA isn’t home anymore. I think I didn’t like who I had become here and being home brought me back to who I was and the person I knew I could be.”

You nod while listening intently. “Proud of you.”

Harry blushes at your words but decides enough about him, “What did you do in the year?”

“I started working with UNICEF, and it’s been amazing. I started in New York for about a month before being moved to LA, and well, they needed someone in London, so I jumped at the chance.”

“That’s amazing. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you. I love it. It’s- it’s good being able to do what I love,” you share with him.

“You feel good about yourself?”

“I do. Do you?”

He pinches his bottom lip with his free hand before nodding, “I do, yeah.”

“How do you feel about us?”

“Honestly.” You nod. “It feels like everything is falling into place. Like it’s our time to take care of each other together.”

“I agree. I feel this pull to you that is telling me. I’ve pushed you back together. Now it’s your turn to make it work.”

“I’m assuming you’re serious about this with the London move.”

You nod. “Very serious. I’m all in.”

You’re not shocked at how quick and assured that came out of you. You feel it this time that you’ve both grown.

“I am too, baby. I’m all in with you.”

You stare at each other, beginning to lean in when the door flies open. It’s Jeff.

“You are needed,” Jeff says, then spots you sitting next to Harry. “Oh, Y/N. It’s great to see you. I’m glad his terrible driving did not leave you injured.”

“Jeffrey, that’s enough.”

“Drama queen, hope you can fix that.” You laugh as Harry throws a pillow at Jeff. Harry kissed your cheek. “I’ll give you a moment,” Jeff told you, noticing the apparent tension.

You stand up and look at Harry, who has followed you, now only standing a step away from you as you lean against his vanity.

“I’m proud of you, I may not have been around to see you write this album, but it’s beautiful and 100% your heart that you put out for the world to see. It might not even mean a lot coming from me, but I wanted you to hear it.”

“Hey,” he closes the gap, his hands resting on the side of your face, “It means everything coming from you. Thank you, baby.” He kisses the top of your head.

Harry pulls away, but you pull him back and look in his eyes to see if he’ll stop you, but all you see is love reflected in his eyes. You connect your lips with Harry’s, and it’s everything. You feel the butterflies settle in your stomach as he deepens the kiss. You’re safe and cared for.

Your feelings for Harry are strong, and you know things will be different.

You know now that you’ll get to love him, and he will get to love you.

Life’s journey together is just beginning.

“Good luck, kiss,” you tell him.

He looks dazed. “Just rehearsal,” he breathes out.

“Good luck can be used for anything.”

“Enough to let me go home with you.”

“If you braid my hair and buy me takeout.”

“As you wish.”

Harry gives you one last bruising kiss before walking out, head held high and heart left in your arms, the safest place it can be.

_____________

Thank you for reading <3 feedback is welcomed and appreciated 

[detroit-grand-prix]

Montreal Thots (strictly about the race weekend and not the city itself or my trip. Those will be separate.)

Things I’d do differently next time

Probably would have been more fun if I hadn’t gone solo. I wasn’t supposed to, the friend I was supposed to come with had Yeticon this same weekend. The closest I got to hanging out with other people was getting dinner two different nights with some girls I’m in a group chat with. The good thing is that I’m an American and an extrovert at my core so I managed to strike up conversation nearly everywhere but it’s not quite the same as having a friend or significant other to enjoy everything with you.

Definitely also wouldn’t pick the grandstand I was in. Sure, the price was good, but it was just on a straight between the hairpin and the DRS zone so I saw absolutely no action.

So. Much. Walking. Holy shit. I did a MINIMUM of four miles each day and now I feel like my legs and feet are about to go on strike. I feel like my body was NOT prepared, so I would definitely need to like, start walking more before leaving:

Next time I need to be better about sunscreen application. A bitch is crispy.

Also, the raincoat and umbrella I bought were horrendously inadequate. Next time I need to bring a poncho that covers my backpack too. The “ushers” in my section also seemed to be really pissy about umbrellas but that didn’t seem to be something that was strictly enforced in every section.

I wish I’d packed more snacks. I stopped at Dollarama Sunday morning for some but that was the first time I’d done that.

The support races in Canada suck ass. Maybe it’s because I’m not a Motorsport diehard that likes watching racing for the sake of racing (I’m sorry, I’m just not) but just having some random Canadian junior series that doesn’t even have an up to date website and a Ferrari Challenge race is nnnnnot worth it. If I could do it all again I’d pick somewhere that has an F2/F3 race as well.

The commentary over the track speakers was inaudible over the cars so I had to rewatch the regular broadcast of the race when I got back. It didn’t help that it was a bilingual broadcast and they switched languages very quickly and without warning.

The pit lane walk was worth it for my own reasons (will discuss in a second) but it was probably the worst organized thing all weekend. They made it a ticketed event this year but they also made the entrance the same as the exit so the line ended up feeding back on itself which really slowed things down, so I don’t know how much good making it a “ticketed” event did. I spent most of that time listening to security yell at everyone in front of the “big three” garages. I was honestly a bit worried of a sudden stampede or something happening because I constantly felt like I was about to get swallowed by the crowd because I was shorter than most everyone (except for kids ofc). I got super anxious and probably would’ve bailed if I wasn’t on a mission so that was that.

Things I liked

The atmosphere was crazy good, and people were civilized for the most part. I didn’t feel like I’d be potentially unsafe as a woman traveling solo at any time, unlike some of the horror stories from Zandvoort and Austria from last year. People weren’t even that drunk I don’t think, at least not in my section.

Things seemed pretty organized even though the park is on an island with only one metro line on and off. I know there was another bridge to the island but I think getting from my grandstand back to the metro station by my hostel only took 40 minutes, which surprised me. Most of that time was just walking.

The water bottle fill stations were amazing but there needed to be a lot more of them!

I made it to some of the fan zone interviews, which were super fun. The Ferrari and Mercedes ones being cancelled because of the rain sucked, but that’s Canada for you.

The way people would cheer whenever they showed the groundhogs on the camera was amazing.

Note that I did not stay for Martin Garrix or the podium ceremony.

I did see Lewis (kind of) and saw Charles! They did not see me but I got okay pictures

Other thots (mostly about the tapestry)

I am glad I managed to get the tapestry to Mercedes, and that Rosa (the woman I handed it off to, who is one of their communications directors) seem to be really amazed by it. I’d also been chatting with one of Lewis’ engineers about it on Twitter and I brought him a thank you card. Rosa brought him out of the garage to meet me and we talked for a few minutes. That was nice.

I am glad I tempered my expectations about what they would do because… in truth, I have not heard anything about the tapestry. I don’t know if anyone in the team got to see it. I haven’t seen it show up in any pictures on Merc socials. Nobody from Merc’s social team has dropped me a DM about it. I’m a bit miffed because some girl made little Charles and Carlos amigurimis and they tweeted a little thank you to her. That said, maybe it will show up in an unexpected way later, like that crocheted George doll they used in the “what’s in the box” video, maybe they will thank me later somehow. I know, it was a gift, and gifts that are conditional aren’t really gifts at all, but while I was working on it I kept having these wild fantasies (maybe I’d get to meet Toto or the drivers if they wanted to thank me in person, maybe they’d invite me for a garage tour or a tour of the motorhome, things like that. It certainly wasn’t the point of me making it, but it was more like, ‘what are they going to do when they get this, it’s such a big project and they probably don’t get things like this all the time.’ But, maybe they do and it was bigger in my head than it is in reality to them.) to keep myself motivated, and then nothing ended up happening at all. Not as of yet. We’ll see.

Do I regret doing it, even with the team’s radio silence so far about it? Not even a little. I would do it all over again. For one thing, maybe they will plan on doing something cool with it. I gained a lot of new followers and mutuals that cheered me on, which is always amazing. For another thing, It was a challenge to make, but I learned new techniques and produced something I never would have thought possible, so I’ve honed myself craft a little bit. I’m very proud of it, at least artistically. It’s got me planning more similar projects (though just for my own sake this time) and even making it feels like a major accomplishment. (I am also happy that i don’t have to take it back home with me. Even folded up it was pretty bulky) Plus, the picture of the moment Rosa took it from me and into the garage is still one of my favorites from the weekend. I’m happy just knowing that it’s somewhere amongst the Mercedes personnel, and I hope they all get to enjoy it.

Anyway, I go home tomorrow and I’m so ready. I might add more to this tomorrow, I mostly just started scribbling down things in my head as they came to me.

Very happy that I got to see Lewis and Fernando on the podium, too. 😌 Not so happy about seeing George having to DNF.

[wowbright]

Fic: Mismatch

Klaine Spring Fling: insidious

Words: ~2100 words

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Blaine wonders out loud if Kurt wishes he could go on a date with another guy.

This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place after Distractions, on the same evening.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost. (More recent posts are in bold.)

––––

“You never cease to surprise me,” said Blaine as they arrived back at the apartment from English group. “Accepting concert tickets from Chandler Kiehl. So …” He searched for the perfect word, but couldn’t land on it. Well, the closest approximation of what he meant would have to do. “Unorthodox.”

“It's not a big deal,” said Elder Hummel. “We’re allowed to accept gifts from investigators within reason. And it's classical music, which classifies it as a cultural event. I'm sure President Steele will be fine with us attending.”

“Yeah, but we just did Georgiritt on Easter Monday. Wasn’t that a cultural event, too? And we only get one a month.”

“That was April. The concert’s in May.”

Blaine went over to the bookshelf and began putting away the Books of Mormon and pamphlets they hadn’t managed to place with new investigators. “Right. And I agree with you that President Steele will probably be fine with it. I’m just surprised you are. You always struck me as a bit to the right of President Steele when it came to rules.”

“It’s church, not politics.” Elder Hummel sat on the loveseat to unlace his shoes.

"Fair enough.” Blaine tucked his English-teaching resource book into its place on the shelf.  The group had gone well. Chandler had stayed, and Dolcezza and Harmonie showed up, and Samir and Nuriya stopped by for the second half. The conversation was so dynamic, Blaine had been able to set aside a thought that had begun niggling at him since Chandler's confession. But now, as he was winding down from the bike ride, it started up again, like fallen hair tickling the back of his neck.

“So,” Blaine started, glancing over to make sure Elder Hummel wasn't looking at him, and then carefully turning to face the bookshelf so the words would sound casual and spontaneous and, maybe, almost inconsequential. “You didn't seem too surprised when Chandler mentioned wanting to take you out on a date.”

“Are you surprised?” Elder Hummel slipped off his shoes and set them on the low rack next to the front door.

“That he's interested in dating you? No. But that he actually went out and bought concert tickets? Yes.”

“Well,” said Elder Hummel, disappearing around the corner into the bathroom, “He sort of mentioned it on Sunday. You know, when we were at the park.”

Blaine heard the creak of a pipe, followed by water flowing out of the bathroom faucet. He knew Elder Hummel wouldn't be able to hear anything he said over the running water. He wondered if this was Elder Hummel’s way of attempting to end the conversation.

Blaine looked inside his bag one last time to make sure no stray bits of literature were floating around in there. He lifted it onto his shoulder and walked to the bathroom door, leaning against the door frame to watch Elder Hummel splash his face three times before turning off the water. “He asked you out on Sunday?”

“Not exactly.” Elder Hummel grabbed his hand towel from his assigned hook and began patting himself dry.

“And you said—?”

“No, of course.”

“You could've told me, you know.”

“It didn't seem that important.”

“But it is important, right? How often do you get asked out by a guy who's super hot in gym shorts?”

“That's so superficial.” Elder Hummel replaced his towel on the hook. “Anyway, since I'm not going, why does it matter?”

Blaine looked down at the floor. He wasn't sure if he should say it. He wasn't even sure if he meant it. But he had the same feeling that he got when he felt prompted to go off script in a discussion with a challenging investigator. It was like the Holy Ghost was right at his shoulder, whispering into his ear what he should say. “If you want to go out with him, you can.”

For the first time since they had gotten home, Elder Hummel looked Blaine directly in the eye. “Don't be ridiculous. It's against the rules.” He walked past Blaine and out into the hallway.

Blaine followed him. “I know, but— If you want to, you can break the rules. I don't have to go to the concert with you. I mean, I'd like to, but— It was Chandler's idea. And he's the one who paid for them. And I'm sure you think I'll go to hell for suggesting this—”

“There is no hell.” Elder Hummel was standing in front of the bedroom mirror, aggressively removing his necktie.

“—but I'll cover for you. If you want to go out with Chandler. Because … Because you're important to me and I want you to be happy.”

“The church makes me happy.”

“I know, I just—”

Elder Hummel spun around. He glared at Blaine for a nanosecond before walking over to the dresser and folding his tie into a compact bundle and setting it away in its drawer. “And for the millionth time, Chandler doesn't. Not just because it's wrong and it breaks the mission rules, but because it's Chandler, OK? He’s nice. Sometimes he's even funny. And yes, I did flirt with him, but that's because I was being an idiot. Really, really, truly, I do not have any romantic interest in Chandler Kiehl. And it's very confusing to me that you went from hating him to wanting him to be my boyfriend.”

“I don’t want … It's just, you said he wasn't that stupid to think you might want to go on a date with him. So I thought—"

“It wasn’t stupid because we’re friends, and I like him as a friend, and sometimes people wish that their friends were interested in them as more than friends. But just because a person wishes for something with a friend doesn't mean their friend will feel the same way back. And that’s okay. It’s okay to have feelings that aren't reciprocated. It doesn't make you stupid. It just makes you human.”

Blaine's head spun. “Wait. I’m confused. Whose feelings in this scenario are unreciprocated?”

“Oh, for crying out loud. Chandler’s.” Elder Hummel slammed the drawer shut, the sound of wood-on-wood banging in time with Chandler’s name. “Not that it matters. I'm gay and I'm on a mission and I don't date. It's not like I didn't know what the rules were coming into this.”

“Right. But you didn't know what the rules were when you were born into the church, either.”

“Says the guy who thinks everything was already decided in the pre-existence.”

It seemed unfair for Elder Hummel to bring up their diverging beliefs about the pre-existence, but Blaine couldn’t put his finger on exactly why.“I never said that. I just said— I just said I knew you and I promised to look for you.”

Elder Hummel rolled his eyes and huffed. Blaine felt a twinge in his side. “And if that’s true, then what my seminary teacher said is true: We chose all the important people we would have in our lives. We chose our parents because we wanted to be born into the covenant. We wanted to grow up in righteousness.” He grabbed his pajamas out of the bottom drawer and headed back toward the bathroom.

“Maybe we chose our parents. Maybe not. But it’s not like we knew in the pre-existence who would become a Mormon and who wouldn't. I mean, that's the whole point of leaving the preexistence to get a physical body. So you can make your own choices, free of the influence of—" Blaine wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. They were back in the bathroom. Elder Hummel was facing the mirror, undoing the top buttons of his shirt.

“Can I maybe take my shower now?” Elder Hummel said, meeting Blaine’s eyes in the mirror. “By myself?”

* * *

Blaine wasn’t in the mood for a shower. Or for changing his clothes. Or for anything.

He hated when Elder Hummel got mad at him. It made him feel so small.

But unless he was going to sit on the loveseat and mope, or go over to Dani’s and bribe Stürmchen into cuddling with him, there was nothing to do but get ready for bed.

He changed out of his clothes and put a clean set of garments on. It was warm outside, and he would have been perfectly happy to go to sleep in just his underwear. But they still needed to pray together, so Blaine put on a pair of pajamas—the same pair he had worn his first night in Ingolstadt, navy with white piping around the edges.

He could still remember maybe the look on Elder Hummel’s face when he came into the bedroom that night and saw that their PJs were almost an exact match. His expression had been one of absolute delight.

Blaine had thought, back then, that they would be two peas in a pod. But they weren’t, were they? Blaine loved Elder Hummel with all his heart, but they weren’t the same.  They saw things so differently. Sometimes, those differences fit neatly together, like water in a cup. One was loose and flowing, the other hard and immutable. And yet, when they came together, they took on the same shape. They belonged together.

Other times, though, the edges didn’t match up, no matter how hard Blaine tried.

Blaine sat on his bed and opened his scriptures to a random section, closing his eyes and resting his finger on the page, the way his mother had taught him to when he needed guidance. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the fourth chapter of Ecclesiastes. Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.Again, if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?

The passage said nothing about fitting. It said nothing about ease. But still, it was better to share your life with someone else, to care for each other in any way you could. It was always good to love. Even if, right in this moment, it hurt.

Maybe the reason it hurt wasn’t the love part. Maybe it was Blaine—always trying to fix things, always wanting peace, never wanting disagreements to come between them. Maybe not wanting it to hurt was what made it hurt in the first place. Maybe Blaine was caught in an insidious cycle of fear leading to more fear.

But the scripture said two are better than one not because it kept anyone from falling; but because, if one or both of them fell, they could help each other up. If one or both of them was overwhelmed by the coldness of the world, they could make each other warm.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Elder Hummel said when he came into the bedroom. His hair was wet. His pajamas were unbleached linen. “I was short with you. I know you’re just trying to help.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Blaine said. “Maybe I try to help too much?”

Elder Hummel sat down on the edge of Blaine’s bed. “Sometimes.”

"You know I love you, right?”

“I know.” Elder Hummel sighed, as if that knowledge was a burden.

“Do you not want me to?”

Elder Hummel shook his head. “No. It's not that. It's just— Sometimes it hurts. I guess because I'm used to being on my own? Watching out for myself, you know? It's hard to explain.”

“You don't have to," Blaine said.

“I don’t know. I always thought I was a pretty self-confident person. I never thought I had any trouble seeing my own value. But it feels sometimes like you care more about me than I do. And I don't know what to do with that.”

Blaine reached for Elder Hummel’s hand. The ends of their sleeves touched, Blaine’s with its bright white piping, and Elder Hummel’s with its flaxen earthiness. The tones didn’t match, but they were pleasing together, all the same. “You don't have to do anything with that. I don't want to make you upset. I just want to be your friend. To lift you up, when I can. That's all.”

Elder Hummel gave Blaine a shy, sad smile. He laced his fingers with Blaine’s. “I'm sorry that sometimes I have a hard time accepting it.”

“You don't have to apologize. You’re the way you are for a reason. Maybe I shouldn't push so much.”

“Well, maybe.” Elder Hummel made a half shrug. His smile grew wider. A bit sly. “Or maybe it's good for me. I don't know.”

“Good. Because I know even less,” said Blaine. He felt a warm glow in his chest, much like the one he had felt at the Schönfeld’s piano. He squeezed Elder Hummel’s hand. “Let’s pray.”

[brainrattlers]

Play It Cool - Tyson Jost (13/n)

Author’s Notes: Yep I’m up super late again writing and posting, with little editing. If it doesn’t make sense, that’s all on me. But hey, let’s celebrate NYE, shall we? Things are heating up in the kitchen. I mean literally, the oven is pre-heating. But also Tyson and AJ are too.

Pairing: Tyson Jost x OFC

Word count: 4000

Warnings: language. Things get a little hot between Tyson and AJ so... if you’re under 18, begone! 18+ please. Part 12: https://brainrattlers.tumblr.com/post/689557201997774848/play-it-cool-tyson-jost-12n-authors-notes

AJ was happy to have a few days off from work, but sad for the reason. She had tickets to the New Year’s Eve game in Dallas, but with the shutdown, she was not enjoying her time off in Texas. Instead, she spent another couple of days with the Jost crew, but definitely insisted on letting Tyson spend time with his family. It was evident that they were so important to him, and she was almost jealous of that because it definitely was not the same with her own family. Things weren’t bad, but it just wasn’t the same sort of connection. She’d always kind of been the black sheep in her family, different interests lead to just feeling slightly disconnected.

But while Tyson and the family were off adventuring, exploring the city or taking a small day trip in the surrounding areas, AJ was home getting caught up on some chores she’d been slacking on. Dinner with Jess was another evening, getting all the juicy gossip she’d gotten at work. The last night Tyson’s family was in town, the four had dinner again, much more casual than the first meeting was.

In fact, honestly, AJ was going to miss Laura and Kacey being around, but knew that Tyson already promised that she was going to be in on more facetime calls with everyone. Again, she didn’t really fit in too much interest-wise with his family, but they took an active interest in her, asking questions and seemingly trying to understand what all AJ did for work, and what she did for fun. She really understood why Tyson was so close with his family. The two took Laura and Kacey to the airport for their flight home on the 30th.

Everyone said their “see you laters” (it’s never goodbye, AJ learned that quickly with Tyson traveling for work), and Laura pulled AJ in for a tight hug, leaning in to whisper something to her that definitely wasn’t meant for Tyson.

“You two are good for each other. I know I’m his mom so I’ll always worry, but I feel much better with you here keeping him in line. Let me know if you ever need anything,” Laura hugged AJ tight, “we’re always here for you two.”

AJ nodded, and promised to keep in touch. She reciprocated the offer for assistance if she can ever do anything, between hugging both Laura and Kacey.

Tyson and Kacey did their annoying sibling thing for a few moments, before the two grabbed their carry-ons to head through security at DIA. They waved at each other until they were far away into the TSA security area. AJ could tell that Tyson was a little down, but she grabbed his hand and asked what he wanted to do that afternoon, when his phone buzzed in his pocket as they were walking to the parking lot.

JT: We’re having a small get together tomorrow night for NYE. Just a couple of friends. AJ is invited too, of course.

Tyson stopped, and asked AJ if she had plans for the next night, which she didn’t really, other than hoping she’d get to spend a few moments at midnight kissing Tyson. She didn’t care where, or with who. Just as long as he was there.

Tyson: We’re in. AJ wants to know if we need to bring anything? Food, beverages, games?

JT: Sydney says to just bring whatever you want. We’ve got some food and drinks but up to you all.

Tyson: Cool. 

The two detoured and made a stop at the King Soopers before heading back to Tyson’s. The plan was to have the afternoon to be lazy together, have some dinner and play it by ear for the evening. Probably crash at Tyson’s place, but then on NYE, head to AJ’s to start making treats for the party. AJ snagged a few things to make her secret recipe of chocolate chip cookies, but then also stuff to make a dip that was pretty high in protein, that was really good with the veggies Tyson picked up.

As soon as they made it to Tyson’s place, AJ was super excited and ran to the door, this being the first time she was using her key. This was funny to Tyson, he didn’t expect her to actually be giddy about it. But here she was fumbling around with the lock until the door swung open and she exclaimed…

“TA DAAAA!”

There might have been some jazz hands in there as well.

Tyson rolled his eyes, but still giggled as the two hauled a couple bags of groceries inside. With the refrigerated items stored safely in the fridge, he turned to the woman unloading some items into the pantry. AJ couldn’t see the mischievous look in his eyes, but definitely could feel something in the air.

Rather, she felt something near her ear. The faintest of whispers were perceived.

“I love my family being here, but boy am I glad they’re on their way home…” Tyson’s lips brushed over the shell of AJ’s ear. “I’ve been wanting to do this for days.”

AJ was trying to keep her composure, play aloof.

“Whatever are you talking about, Mr. Jost?” 

She knew the name would rile him up. And instead of calling him daddy, which actually weirded both of them out, AJ would just get very formal with Tyson, which would cause his brain to short-circuit a bit. And inevitably, he’d get a bit of an ego stroke from it, as he felt like she was giving up control to him, that he was in charge. What he didn’t realize was that in doing so, she still truly was in power in the situation as she knew the effect it had on him.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, as the case may be), Tyson placed soft, tiny kisses up the column of AJ’s neck, right behind her earlobe. This one particular spot was AJ’s kryptonite, as Tyson found it early on in their relationship. A soft touch of the pad of his finger, or a brush of his lips against it sent her flying high, shivering slightly. Strong arms wrapped around her midsection from behind, holding her firmly in place as he continued the slow pace of kisses followed by more whispers. 

“It’s been over a week since I’ve been able to rile you up like this… and actually do something about it.” 

AJ shuddered at the feeling of his lips ghosting against her neck. Tyson could feel how hard AJ had begun to breathe under his arms, the air stuttering as she exhaled. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“How’s about we leave these groceries out for later, and I continue to just keep kissing this spot (kiss) right… here (kiss) and, I don’t know…” Tyson let the stubble on his face softly rub against AJ’s lower neck and shoulder as he gently pulled the collar of her t-shirt askew. Her skin felt like it was on fire, and she was getting dizzy from either breathing too hard, or not enough - just wasn’t sure. One thing that Tyson is definitely good at is taking AJ’s breath away.

The arms surrounding AJ’s torso loosened, and rough, but warm hands slid down her arms until one of of those hands grabbed her own, twirling her around to face Tyson. His other hand reached behind her to shut the door to the pantry, then gracefully leaned her back onto the cabinet doors. Leaning in, one of Tyson’s legs nudged between AJ’s, seemingly holding her in place.

Eyes searched each others’ for any sign of negative reaction. But doubling down, Tyson opened his mouth and asked the question. He absolutely needed to be sure that everyone was on board and in agreement about what was about to happen.

“Is this okay?”

AJ nodded, feeling Tyson’s thigh pressed between her own.

“Nuh uh babygirl, I need you to say it.”

AJ hummed while breathing out. “This is good. If it ever becomes not good, I will tell you. Same with you?”

“Absolutely.”

As soon as it was said, Tyson’s thigh pressed harder against AJ, using half of his body to now hold her in place. Had she not actually had her feet on the floor, he easily could have held her up against the pantry door, suspended in mid-air.  As he did so, a soft whimper fell from AJ’s lips, betraying all of her efforts to keep calm. That smirk reappeared on Tyson’s lips as he felt her attempting to create any sort of friction with his thigh. 

“Oh, I see how it is. Did my little Eggo miss being covered in her man’s maple syrup this week?”

AJ just stared at Tyson who didn’t even comprehend immediately how ridiculous that sounded. She did her best to keep it under wraps, but couldn’t. She started to shake while holding in the giggles that were threatening to escape.

The dam broke, and she started laughing.

“YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT!” 

The realization started to click of what exactly he said and why it did not work the way it should have.

“You’re dirty, Mr. Jost.” AJ couldn’t stop the giggles, which were infectious and spread to Tyson as well. “And I don’t think I can call you my Maple Syrup anymore because.. What the fuck!”

Leave it to these two to have this amazing slow burn, only to have the flames doused with a bucket full of laughter. But they wouldn’t have it any other way. These two sidestepped some awkward moments earlier on in their relationship with laughter. It eventually turned into pretty much a mantra shared between the two:

If you’re not able to laugh during it, are you even doing it right?

Sure that seems awkward, but if something ridiculous happens, it’s better to acknowledge and laugh, than to let it get weird. And once that was finished, the couple was able to pick up right where they left off, and somehow it made it hotter. It was just part of their emotional connection.

This time was no different. After the giggles subsided, Tyson picked up AJ and set her on the counter, nestling himself between her legs and kissing her deeply. After a few moments of staring into each others’ eyes between kisses, he finally just straight up picked AJ up and carried her to the bedroom. 

So much for watching a movie that afternoon. They also missed dinner time, opting to just stay in bed, doing a handful of those things that they were unable to do while Laura and Kacey were visiting. Speaking of those two, Tyson heard his phone that was still sitting in the kitchen buzz, figuring it was his mom and sister saying their flight landed. He wasn’t about to let that get in the way of accomplishing the goals he set out to do, which mainly included making up for all the lost time while his family was visiting. 

It was a long evening, but well enjoyed by both. Exhausted from the activities, they opted to skip dinner, but wake up early and see about a big breakfast before The Great Bake-a-thon was to commence at AJ’s. Thankfully one of Tyson’s favorite breakfast joints was not terribly busy when the two finally arrived around 10 - no thanks to Tyson deciding they, yes, they needed to take a shower. 

“You know there is a water shortage, right? We totally should just take a shower together to save water.”

“Why do I think this is going to use more water together than it would separately?”

Tyson scoffed as he turned on the faucet, and AJ turning it a bit warmer than the rather frosty temp he liked to shower at.

Regardless of how much water was used, the two got cleaned up and properly dressed to head out for pancakes, before arriving at AJ’s. Thankfully they remembered the groceries to make everything for the evening that were still at Tyson’s before the left - driving by a couple of grocery stores, they were seemingly packed with everyone buying their snacks for the night’s festivities. 

And while Tyson was trying to recreate the previous night’s kitchen scene in AJ’s kitchen, she somehow kept him in line long enough to make the fiesta veggie dip. He was curiously watching the baker across from him mix ingredients into the mixer bowl, until the wad of unbaked goodness was just as she wanted. Her finger swiped up a bit of the dough, and found itself in front of Tyson’s mouth. Still trying to start something, he sensually licked the dough off, earning a moan from him.

“I’m not sure what to say to this, Tyson. You were making those same sorts of sounds last night… if I would have known I could have just made cookies…”

This might have been the first time she rendered Tyson speechless, rather, just a blush crept over his cheeks as he smiled.

Instead of teasing him further, AJ enlisted his services to shape out balls of cookie dough, and place them on the cookie sheets. All the while, the oven was preheating, and dishes were starting to be washed. That is, until AJ looked over to find that Tyson was making inappropriate cookie dough balls (sigh). She smirked, and he reshaped them into actual round shapes. Into the oven it all went, and that left them a few minutes to clean up the kitchen. With the timer set, AJ told Tyson to take them out of the oven when the timer goes off, and if she wasn’t back from taking a shower in time, after 5 minutes, put them on the cooling rack. Thankfully his mind was there and he did just that, despite really wanting to surprise AJ in the shower. With the cookies safely cooling, and AJ getting dressed for the get together, Tyson took a quick shower as well, seeing as how he somehow got protein powder and flour on his neck.

Quickly cleaning the veggies and packaging up all the food to take over to JT’s, Tyson back out to the kitchen.

“Hey, uh, babe?”

AJ looked up, and already knew what Tyson was going to ask. Tyson stood in the doorway, wearing some dark brown pants, and a pink shirt. 

“Oh, hey, did you bring anything else with you? Those… don’t…  work together.”

Tyson was getting better at matching his clothes, but occasionally he’d still stumble a bit, and would have to learn what he picked out just wasn’t two colors that should be paired like so.

“Damn it, I had just about three weeks straight that I did alright!” Tyson chuckled. “Alright time to start a new streak. But… oh no. I didn’t bring anything else with me, and we don’t really have time to go back to my place to change.”

AJ thought for a moment. 

“Hold that thought, I think I have something that might work.”

Disappearing into her room, she came back with a black hoodie that simply said “Meh.” AJ shrugged as she handed it to Tyson. She knew it would be plenty big to fit him, but wasn’t sure how he’d react. He eyed the hoodie, then looked at AJ. She nodded, and he put it on over his head. Instantly his eyes lit up.

“Okay I so get why you girls are always stealing our clothes. This…” Tyson stopped to put his hands through the sleeves, “This hoodie is so soft and warm… and smells like your conditioner. I’m stealing this.” His smile was lighting up the room.

All AJ could do was roll her eyes. Somehow she managed to corral him and the two loaded up AJ’s car, and Tyson was her navigator to get to JT’s home. 

It was indeed a small get together, with just a couple other friends of JT and Sydney’s. Everyone meshed well, and the conversations flowed nicely. The wild thing in all of it was that somehow everyone managed to bring different food/beverages to the party, so there was a great spread.

The one thing that disappeared the fastest though was AJ’s protein-packed chocolate chip cookies. Sure, they weren't great for you, but they did have some extra goodness in them so the guys felt less bad about snagging a second, or third. The recipe was requested to be shared, but AJ said it was indeed a secret. But she also would be more than willing to make them upon reasonable request. (This might have sparked an idea with Sydney to talk to the rest of the WAGs about having a bake sale to raise money, but more on that later.)

Games were played, food was eaten, jokes were told, stories were shared. People started getting sleepy, but there were only five more minutes until midnight. Tyson started getting fidgety, seeing that AJ was across the room talking to the other women. Slowly but surely, he inched his way closer and closer, until there was one minute left. The TV showed the countdown. With seconds left, Tyson pulled AJ up and close to him. His eyes never left hers.

“I can’t wait to spend the next year with you, AJ…”

Fireworks could be heard outside, but Tyson and AJ never flinched. He looked at her lips at the stroke of midnight, and let his lead the way as the two kissed, probably a little too deeply, maybe a touch inappropriate, but Tyson didn’t care. He was kissing the woman he loved at midnight, the start of New Year’s Day. He fully believed the tradition that whomever you kiss at midnight, you spend the rest of the year with. In his heart, he had hoped it would be much longer than just 2022.

What did break the kiss between the two was Sydney's cell phone camera flash illuminating the faces of Tyson and AJ. Although the photo wasn’t planned, she managed to catch the clock showing midnight behind them, and honestly, it was a pretty dang cute photo. She texted it immediately to AJ, which gave her an idea. 

An evil idea.

But that train of thought was derailed by texts from friends and family coming in, wishing everyone a Happy New Year. Jess sent a photo of her and Nate, both wearing ridiculous hats and blowing on party favors. AJ sent a message to Laura, Kacey, and also one to Grandpa and Grandma Jost from the both of them. Sent another to her own family, saying she’d see them in two weeks.

Everyone continued the joyous outbursts and friendly shows of affection for a few more minutes, until it died down, a couple of the guys realizing that they had to be at practice in less than 10 hours. The NHL was restarting on January 2nd, figuring that the COVID outbreaks would more or less be contained again. This gave the team a day before their first game back to prepare after almost a week and and a half off.

Pitching in, AJ helped Sydney pack up all the food that was out in the kitchen, and tossed around the idea of the WAG bake sale again. This felt weird to AJ, confused why she was bringing it up to her. Sydney had to point out the obvious before it finally clicked.

Whether AJ really wanted to be labeled or not, she was one of them now - she was a WAG. It wasn’t the title that bothered her at all. But what did was the fact that AJ didn’t feel like she belonged with the group. Even though AJ was becoming friends with a number of them, she couldn’t help but feel like she was going to always be the odd one out. She wasn’t blonde, she isn't stick thin, she didn’t have a home or life that would incite jealousy on Instagram. Some of them came across as fake at times, and it was almost irritating. Instead, she was just AJ, who currently has curly brown and fire-engine red hair, works in IT, and has a house that is far from pristine or Instagram-worthy. 

At least focusing on the planning kept her from focusing on what she felt like she was lacking. Sydney added AJ to a group chat, which made her more nervous still, but this was going to be part of her life now and was going to do her best to adjust to and simply accept it. A few cheering emojis and hearts popped up after her welcome, which made her feel a little better. 

Tyson actually interrupted the two chatting, with a tiny reminder that even if AJ had off on New Year’s Day, he didn’t. AJ always got a good chuckle from this as usually she’s the one that has to leave for work by 7am to make it on time. She’d get to sleep in this time around if she wanted to! 

The couples all gathered their belongings, got their final New Year's wishes in to everyone, and called it a night, heading back to their own respective homes. The two made it back to AJ’s, and Tyson pretty much crashed as soon as his head hit the pillow. AJ wasn’t so lucky though, and her insomnia started kicking in. Fiddling with her phone, she found a bunch of photos from the holidays, photos with the Josts, photos from Christmas, New Year’s Eve. 

Her eyelids getting heavy, AJ curled up in bed next to Tyson, knowing his alarm would be going off in just a few hours. And when it did, she grumbled, but sleepily smiled when Tyson kissed her before heading off to practice. She didn’t even notice he was still wearing her black hoodie as he headed out the door. But, she was awake enough to press send on the Instagram draft.

Quickly, AJ created a draft of a message along with a handful of her favorite photos from the past few days, and hit send.

Photos with all of the Josts and AJ in their Christmas pajamas, Tyson cooking the Christmas dinner, the beautiful necklace Tyson gave AJ, Tyson in his Coors onesie, the photo of them kissing at midnight, as well as one other photo  all uploaded along with a message within the draft.

wicketthewarrior Happy New Year, everyone! This was a holiday season I would have never guessed would happen a year ago, hell, 6 months ago, but here we are. May everyone have a fantastic 2022 - it’s gotta be better than where we’ve been, right? Also… @josty17? Love you, but… Game on.

Tyson didn’t have a chance to check his phone before practice to see why he was getting pinged so hard suddenly, but a few of the guys on the team sure did. If they weren't already teasing him for clearly wearing one of AJ’s nerdy hoodies to practice, they definitely were after tapping that heart or commenting on AJ’s instagram post.

At the end of practice, Tyson had so many notifications, the main one saying that AJ had tagged him in a post. He read the message before looking through the photos, so he was clearly confused. Seeing AJ with his family made his heart skip a beat. His stomach growled looking at the Christmas dinner photos. The warm feeling settled in his chest when he saw the photo of them kissing - he’d not seen it previously.  But that all dropped to the floor as soon as he swiped to the last photo. Staring back at him was a photo of himself, that probably could have been a thirst trap, but was most definitely him the morning prior, staring at AJ with a very sleepy look on his face, and some of the craziest, out of control bed head curls he’d ever had.

AJ’s phone buzzed with a notification from Instagram, regarding a specific comment that she just received.

josty17 love you too babygirl… but be afraid. Be very afraid. (evil imp face)

Part 14: https://brainrattlers.tumblr.com/post/690822714485817344/play-it-cool-tyson-jost-14n-authors-notes

[elizmanderson]

2022 wrap-up, part 4

part 1 is here

part 2 is here

part 3 is here

istg this is the last part. it just turns out I did more stuff this year than I thought, which is exactly why I do these wrap-ups for myself every year. otherwise I fixate on the bad parts or the parts where I did nothing yet somehow also failed to rest.

travel

new york

I went to NYC for the first time ever for my friend chelsea's book launch! the officially unofficial one that we had for her in central park, since during her official book launch I was at phantom of the opera with another one of our friends who was kind enough to treat me to a broadway show

I saw and did a lot and went many places, but lowkey the highlight of my trip (aside from meeting all my long-time twitter writing peeps <3) was my last evening in the city. I had a drink at the stonewall inn and then wandered around the village, taking pictures of buildings because I was in love with the light on the fire escapes. I turned down jane street without even thinking about it.

after about a block, I was like, "wait, which street did I just turn down," and I went back to the nearest intersection to check. but nope, I'd turned down the right street without looking at my map, without paying strict attention to street signs and landmarks, without even thinking about it. I realize actual new yorkers will 100% disagree with this, but in that moment new york became a little bit mine and I became a little bit hers.

it took me months to recover financially from this trip, even with staying in a sketchy hostel and without paying for my own broadway tickets, but I loved it. a lot more than I thought I would, actually, since I grew up in the country and I'm probably three trees in a trench coat rather than an actual human person.

admittedly when I got back and saw how green the trails on our campus were, I was like "how did I even THINK I liked it there?? they kept all their nature in one place and it wasn't half this green!!" but I seriously did fall in love with the city, and yes I obnoxiously point at the screen when watching media set in manhattan like "I've been there!!" I am That Bitch.

georgia

I mean okay fine I go to georgia every year because my parents live here now. but still. I love savannah and coastal georgia in general, and this year I also visited jekyll island for the first time. I didn't stay long at jekyll, and unfortunately savannah was so cold I might as well have been back home (jk, it was sub-zero at home and a balmy 15 in savannah on the coldest night), but I always love going, I got to see my beloved atlantic, and I once again took a thousand pictures of live oaks just because.

other things

non-book media

movies: cyrano (yes it says 2021 but it wasn't at my theater until february of this year, so we're calling it 2022), bros, thor: love & thunder, ticket to paradise, see how they run, and actually encanto played at our second-run theater so I saw that in theaters again <3

tv: ofmd and only murders in the building, both new comfort shows despite one involving piracy and the other involving murder

musicals: groundhog day: the musical and come from away, and also I'm listing cyrano here in addition to above bc I love the soundtrack and have it in my car along with the other two

personal tomfoolery

we're about to go full-on diary here, but whatever bc that's how I used this blog before I got 500 new followers and ofmd ruined all other uses of said blog, so that's how I'm finishing this post

queer feels

I've both thought about and avoided about thinking about my sexuality and gender even more than I already have in the past 10 or 12 years. I like "queer" for this reason: it covers any non-allocishet identity I might ever need. it indicates that I'm part of the community while giving me space and time to figure out the particulars on my own (and reduces the need for me to come out repeatedly to the same people as I decide on new identities, which is good bc I viscerally hate coming out at all and dream of a world where I wouldn't have to). I like more particular labels for helping me figure out my experience, validating my experience, and finding other people whose experiences are similar.

I'm still thinking through they, although I admit when I asked folks to use it in a pronoun testing room I got warm fuzzies. I've avoided thinking through my gender in detail, but I bought a genderqueer sticker and enamel pin to add to my existing pride stickers and pins. it's just that it's like I have to come out to myself.

I did actually come out to my dad as queer this year. which made me feel feelings even though it shouldn't have been a big deal bc my parents are allies. my dad's literally in his law school's gsa, much to the confusion of the younger folks. I came out via email, in the spur of the moment, which is both a very me and a very internet-dad way to come out. and he basically said, "thanks for trusting me with that, but I already vibed it from your writing."

(I'm paraphrasing. my sixty-year-old, deeply uncool white-guy father didn't use the word "vibed.")

I'm quietly queer, for the most part, but every year I get a little louder. this year, with fascism on the rise and so many anti-queer and specifically anti-trans bills brought forth in so many states and me only just out of the closet to my parents (albeit less deeply in the closet in the first place than I thought I was), I talked more about my queerness than usual. I put "queer" in every single author bio for every single thing for which I needed a bio. I stickered my laptop in pride flags. I put up pride flags outside my office and pride pins inside it and joined the dei committee at work. I'm not a fighter. but I got just a little bit louder.

friend feels

I kinda started thinking some time within the last few years, how many friendships have I maybe missed out on because both of us were too insecure to take the first real step and be friends?

which has highkey always been my approach to romance. I'll get my heart broke a thousand times and still go after every new person I fall for. but when it comes to friendship, I'm like do not.

but I've been thinking this lately.

so with an existing maybe-friend, when an opportunity came along to write him a letter for a retreat he went on, I basically just wrote him a letter like "hey I care about you and I'm glad we're friends." and boom, lo and behold, he came back like "oh my goodness thank you so much for that wonderful letter," and things have been much more comfortable since then. which was a nice lil validation of my theory that sometimes people Do Not Dislike Me, In Fact, but are just as insecure in friendship as I am.

I also made a whole new friend with this new girl at work. the rsd has hit me fucking hard this year, which I do not appreciate. but I keep pushing past it and making an effort, and now I have a nice stash of good encounters stored up for when the rsd tries to bamboozle me once more. she's so welcoming and lovely and kind, so I hope things are also settled there even if sometimes I feel like they aren't because that's just how I am.

anyway, that's my year. there was a lot of weird and terrible bullshit going on locally, nationally, globally, and in the background, but there was some good shit in there, too.

here's to more friends, more books, more birds, more plants, more falling-in-love-with-cities, more kindness and good and little warm gestures in 2023.

[televinita]

ABSURDLY pissed off right now,

gonna yell into the void until I feel better.

So, although Tumblr and YouTube are finally starting to make with the Claire/Owen/Maisie content, for the last few days I’ve had my heart set on celebrating the end of this project by going to see JWD again, specifically for $5 since I have already spent an absurd amount on tickets out of desperation and stupidity (aka letting other people do my ticket research).  Here are all the things that went wrong, without me realizing they went wrong until it was too late, in the last 48 hours to prevent that from happening.

(so I am now really fucking frustrated that I have ten days off before going back to a Hard Project, and absolutely feral about how much I want to see this stupid movie again, in a way I do not often feel about media anymore, but now can’t do for at LEAST another four days if not six, and there were SO MANY MINOR THINGS THAT WOULD HAVE MADE ALL THE FUCKING DIFFERENCE.)

+ I found out on Tuesday night that the nearby theater I abandoned years ago, when they switched to reserved seating and higher than average prices at all times including matinees, has temporarily gone back to their $5-any-time-of-day pricing on Tuesdays. [edit: oh man, apparently the other local theater that I abandoned for the same reasons now has that too!] But there was something else I had already planned to do on Tuesday:

+ I went out on Tuesday after work (at 5) to take advantage of their once-a-month free admission to a regional park -- side rant on: its own separate issue of rage, because I have already paid thirty fucking dollars to have unlimited access for a year, but that was 5 weeks ago and I never received the permit in the mail even though they sent it twice, and I am on the verge of crying right now on that because I have no idea how I’m supposed to convince them to either send it again (and again, and again?), or refund $30 so I can buy it in person when for all they know I’m just pretending I never received it to get a free pass /rant-- but even though the weather was perfect and a hundred percent of the forecasts said no storms and minimal chance of rain, the sky was a foreboding Dark to the south and west and kinda green tinged also, and I just could not believe a tornado would not blow up while I was in the middle of the woods, so after driving halfway there I gave up and went home. But of course nothing happened except a light smattering of rain for at most 20 minutes between 8 and 8:30.

+ This is relevant both because it’s one more thing that went wrong in this crap week, and because I went to the store to buy a little Treat for myself to feel better, and this will be relevant later.

+ Then I was so excited about finally!! going to see this movie on $5-any-time-on-Wednesdays-at-the-faraway-theater that I couldn’t sleep. I was already running on like 6.5 hours of sleep after the fireworks on Monday night, but then I was awake until 2 AM on Tuesday night, and I had to be up at 8 for work.

+ Work finished early on Wednesday!! (noon) I had the option of going to a mid-afternoon or an evening showing. But I was exhausted and couldn’t keep going; also I really really needed to wash my hair before I went out in public, so I collapsed in bed to nap first. I didn’t actually fall asleep until almost 2pm.

+ I did get a solid hour’s sleep! I woke up, having missed the afternoon showing at this point, but figuring I could still make the 6:10. I got up, took a shower...and immediately collapsed again, worn out. My eyes were sore and tired and I needed to sleep, and I knew I wouldn’t enjoy the movie as much like this, whereas tomorrow (Thurs) there are showings at 11:55 and 3:20 for $7, a bit more than I wanted to pay but better than the $9 they’ll be after that, or the $10-11 they’ll be Friday through Sunday here, or today at the local theaters.

So I went back to bed, resting but not sleeping all that much until approximately 6:30pm, when I felt well enough to get up.

+ Wednesday night, continued: I actually was tired at this point. Really tired. But somehow fucking insomnia?? hits me and it is THREE THIRTY AM and I’m still awake. So now the only way I am going to make it through a 2.5 hour movie and actually enjoy myself is if I just sleep as long and as late as humanly possible.

+ I wake up at noon and my eyes are too sore to stay open until 12:30, so the first showtime is gone. But 3:20? I can make 3:20!!

+ Now fully dressed and ready, I contemplate whether I should plan to leave early and go shopping/to the library/generally enjoy myself before the movie, or do it afterward, so I don’t have to drive home in rush hour traffic.

Note that leaving early and going to a store/library would have made all the difference today -- but no, I decide I’ll do it after in case I end up at a grocery store and want to buy something perishable.

+ Time to leave! I grab my purse, make sure I’ve got a notepad and pen this time, as well as my phone and even some water to make sure I don’t get a headache, and then I impulsively grab one of my shoulder bags too, because those are helpful for carrying anything I might buy. I leave about 20 minutes earlier than I need to, and on the way there I pass the library and once again ask myself whether I should stop here first or just -- nah, I brought earbuds, so I’ll just get to my seat early and enjoy my audiobook for a bit; I’m finally really getting into it.

+ Pull into the parking lot, which is a roughly 20-minute drive from home, at 3:10. Ten minutes before the movie and close to twenty before the actual film starts post-previews. If only this were the local theater, close to home, because then I...

+ Proceed to realize I don’t have my fucking wallet. Because it’s in the other shoulder bag, which was right next to the door, because that’s what I went shopping with on Tuesday night, but that one’s slightly smaller so I ignored it today. I don’t even have any fucking cash, because even though I normally stash some everywhere like a squirrel for times just like this, last week was the mega-neighborhood sale and I pulled every bill I could find and put it in my wallet to make sure I wouldn’t run out or find myself in situations where I had to either overspend at any given house, or force individuals to give me $18 in change.

Pound steering wheel, scream and cry and want to throw up. Can’t even do anything else in the area because the weather is too hot to enjoy walking this time of day, I’m too enraged to relax and enjoy window shopping, and I didn’t bring any physical books with me (listening to audiobooks while sitting still but not comfortably lying down w/ my eyes closed is BORING) .

It’s been an hour and fifteen minutes and I am still FURIOUS. I suppose I could grit my teeth and spend $9*** to see it at 6:10 tonight, but I don’t want to do that because I already did that on June 23rd, when I decided at the last minute I simply could not face work without all the shippy content fresh in my bran.

(something I would not have had to do if Tumblr had been making gifsets at its former speed, which I realize is real #ChoosyBeggar of me and I’m sorry about that, but also I am MAD because two weeks ago all I wanted was the content, but at this point I am desperate specifically to have a Full Day Fun Theater experience, with the going out and the big screen and the doing fun things in the area afterward. and $5 is the only reasonable price point because our original tickets were so absurdly expensive that at this point I have spent close to forty damn dollars on this stupid dino film and don’t even own it yet. Excluding the price of gas to drive 12 miles each way to this theater, twice now, once in vain)

***On second thought, actually, no. I wouldn’t enjoy the film as much knowing I’m overpaying, so even that avenue is closed to me now. All that remains is Rage and Wrath.

[my-awesome-roadtrip]

Still Day 7

4.00pm

Got back rather earlier than we expected, so we have taken the opportunity to do a bit of washing.

Another early start today, we had tickets booked for the Virginia Holocaust Museum in Richmond, I get it’s not the easiest subject in the world but it’s an important one.

The temperature was already in the 90′s when we arrived and it was a blessing to get into the museum and feel some cool air on my face.

Our first stop was a film that was narrated by actual survivors of the Concentration Camps, over and over again I found myself shaking my head at the stories, if I didn’t know it was true, I would think it was unbelievable at the way the Jewish people were treated, and it was not just the Jews, the list of persecuted people is huge, homosexuals, gypsies, Jehovah’s Witness, the disabled, black, brown , in fact anyone who did not conform to the Nazi idea of Aryan ( tall, blond and blue eyed ), which makes it all the more shocking as their leader ( unfortunately I cannot write his name or my blog will be deleted ) was the total opposite.

We moved from gallery to gallery, several times I had to unclench my teeth, I didn’t even realise I was doing it. The story of the Holocaust brought out so many emotions in me, anger ( lots of anger ), hatred, sorrow, sadness, however it also brought out wonder at the bravery of so many who fought against Nazi Germany.

The courage, tenacity and determination from an oppressed people were overwhelming in their telling, Nazi Germany tried to break the spirit of these men, women and children but the best part of it all? They just did not succeed.

( I hope that none of my blog is removed, because this subject is as emotive as it ever was)

For obvious reasons, I only took two photos.

We then went onto Tredegar Civil War Museum which is situated down by the James River ( the very same river that brought brought slave ships into Richmond )

So yesterday we visited where the first of the Confederate armies surrendered to the Union, then we looked into the life of a Civil War soldier at Pamplin and today we wanted to know about how it all started and why.

The why is easy, seven States of the Deep South decided that they wanted to be a different nation to the USA, mainly because Lincoln was trying to abolish slavery and the South couldn’t have that happening, because the whole of their commerce depended on the enslaved. Without the Africans who was going to till the land, pick cotton, grow tobacco ?

Initially everyone though the War would last 90 days, it was a chance for young men to seek glory and impress their family. However it didn’t turn out like that at all, the War lasted 4 years and more young men died in those 4 years than the Vietnam conflict, World War I and World War II.

The Union won a few battles, the Rebels won a few, back and forth they went until the decider at Gettysburg when finally the Yankees thrashed the Confederates. The battle lasted 3 days and the fallen amounted to fifty thousand men.

Not going to say much more about this battle as we are due there in a few days.

Lincoln was able to force through the 13th Amendment at last which enabled the enslaved communities to be freed.

By the time we got back to the Sherman, the temperature was hitting 90 degrees, unfortunately we had parked the car in the shade, but by early afternoon, it was in full blazing sunshine. So hot in fact that we could not sit on the leather seats. Most cars have a seat warming button, the Sherman has the same, but also at the push of a button the fans under the seat cool them off too. I can tell you they were very much needed today.  It was still quite early so we decided to visit Maymont,  beautiful gardens with trees shading the paths, myriads of different flowers,  It was lovely to sit under the boughs and just enjoy the cool relief of the breeze.

[realcube]

OVERHEARING SOMEONE TALK ABOUT THEIR S/O

characters ♡ baji, mikey & mitsuya

tw ♡ insults (in reference to the reader), violence & robbery 

KEISUKE BAJI 

♡ baji never mentioned that he was dating you to anyone in toman

♡ in fact, he hoped that none of them even knew about your existence, because that would only lead to trouble; and he was correct

♡ he was simply taking a puff on his stationary motorcycle, when members of the division started to filter into the parking lot that he was currently trying to relax in

♡ usually he’d try to ward off strangers so he could enjoy his time alone but he knew these guys from toman, so he allowed them to stay as long as they’d keep their voices down and not bother him

♡ most of his attention was on his own thoughts, but it was immediately redirected when he heard your name brought up in their conversation

♡ only your last name, so he wasn’t even certain whether they were talking about you, but still his interest was piqued 

♡ “they are on shift friday night, the only one left at eleven,” one of the guys explained, gesturing to his bat with a wicked smirk, “we’ll break in then. i’ll drive getaway.”

♡ “what if they call someone? shouldn’t we wait until they’ve left?” another suggested but was quickly corrected.

♡ “once they lock up the security system activates and it’ll be impossible to get in without alerting the cops. so we may as well bust in, handle them, and then steal the bikes.” 

♡ baji cringed, since he was certain that they were talking about you —since you happen to work at a motorcycle shop on friday nights — he hated to think about what they meant by ‘handle’.

♡ “now stop askin’ stupid questions.” the same guy scoffed, twirling around his bat, “i used to work there, idiot, obviously i know what i’m doing.”

♡ the group of six all laughed at the one poor guy who asked the question, and baji did too

♡ he laughed at the irony behind how they were calling each other idiots, when they were all the ones talking about auto theft in broad daylight, and discussing doing unspeakable things to a person, when their boyfriend was standing in ear-shot with a bat and a motorcycle ready 

♡ he did give them the benefit of the doubt in the latter aspect though; how were they supposed to know that y’all were dating when you are never seen spending time with each other?

♡ baji suddenly felt bad; it dawned on him that perhaps he had been neglecting your relationship as of recently. of course, it wasn’t with poor intention, in fact he thought he was taking the moral course of action by avoiding a situation where you are harmed because of his ties with toman

♡ however, being in a gang was no excuse to be a bad boyfriend, he figured 

♡ for now, the least he could do was take care of these guys to save you the trouble 

♡ but perhaps that wasn’t his brightest idea, he realised as he stood amongst the dejected bodies scattered across the ground, “i know you are all alive, so consider this a warning.” baji chuckled at the grunt one produced as he kicked him aside to head back over to his motorcycle

♡ before he left the area, obviously he stole all the cash he could from those guys, which gave him enough to buy the thing he had been eyeing for you

♡ though it took him a while to get his hands on it, it left him with the perfect opportunity to give it to you 

♡ “oi, open up!” baji hollered as he pounded on your door; if baji wasn’t such a bruiser, you would’ve thought he was dying 

♡ “what!?” you hissed, throwing the door open to reveal your frantic state.

♡ you were half angry at how loud he was being, and the other half at how he has been ignoring you for the past two weeks and finally decides to show up just as you were about to leave for work, in fact, you were running late for your night shift

♡ “no need to rush.” baji said, an odd sense of sincerity in his voice as he motioned for you to stop putting your shoes on, “you’re not going to work today.”

♡ you simply laughed, ignoring him and gathering your stuff to leave, “and why is that?”

♡ “well,” baji started, rubbing his chin for effect, “these guys from toman plan on robbing the place tonight. i did give them a warning, but they might still do it. and you know i just want you to be safe.” he said with a mischievous grin, as you both knew there was no way your shop was getting robbed tonight, unless the dudes wanted to try it with both arms broken 

♡ “so did you just come here to tell me that, or is there something else?” although you tried to hide it, baji could tell by your subtle flustered expression that you were thankful

♡ “i found this.” he lied, cupping your hand to lift it and drop in a gold bracelet, “one of the guys had it on him.”

♡ you gasped, taking the bracelet to examine the fine details, and noticed how it had a small crystal heart attached, “yeah, i’m sure a member of toman just so happened to be wearing a charm bracelet.”

♡ “i never said he was wearing it!” baji spat, swiftly snatching it from your hand and holding it above his head, “i can pawn it if you don’t want it.” 

♡ “i like it, though!” you said, reaching up for it, only for him to grab your wrist and put it on you 

♡ “then forgive me for not hanging with you.” he muttered, angrily clipping the bracelet through furrowed brows, while you leaned in to plant a kiss on his forehead 

♡ “it’s fine. i forgive you.” you couldn’t help but snicker at his word choice of ‘hanging out’, which resulted in you getting a swift flick to the forehead

♡ but before you could whine, he quickly followed it up with a kiss <33

MIKEY 

♡ one day he was visiting mizo to find takemichi and he happened to walk passed a group of guys talking about how one of them planned on asking out a person from a different school 

♡ at first he didn’t pay much attention since it was none of his business after all, until he heard that the person’s name and description just so happened to match yours 

♡ so like any good boyfriend would, he halted and told draken to grab takemichi while he listened in 

♡ as he gained more insight into the situation, he learned that the person happened to go to the same academy as you and had the same bus schedule too 

♡ it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the person they were talking about was you 

♡ as it turns out, the guy who planned on asking you out had your bus times memorised so if he was able to run fast enough, he would be able to reach your stop before you got on the bus, which is when he will ask you out

♡ or at least, that is what he hoped would happen if everything went smoothly and there was no unexpected interference from a group of delinquents

♡ mikey had many options on how to deal with this situation

♡ he could ask you to take a different bus, he could do nothing (because he trusted that you’d reject the guy either way) or he could beat them up right now to save himself the hassle later

♡ however, he decided to go with a more peaceful approach 

♡ he continued eaves-dropping until everyone besides the lover boy had left, so he could have an amicable one-on-one conversation with him — definitely no threats involved — and advise the guy to stay in his fucking lane and never go near you ever again, kindly. 

♡ when the day of the proposal arrived, mikey paid you a surprise visit after school and offered to walk you to the bus-stop; not because he was afraid that the dude might confess, but rather since he had booked you both tickets to the movies!

♡ but once you both arrive at the stop, you were greeted by the guy standing there holding a measly bouquet of flowers, looking quite taken back by the fact you were with someone else; even though mikey had done him the courtesy of explicitly telling him to back off 

♡ though he must’ve not got message despite the hand-holding, and he obviously didn’t recognise mikey, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have continued to confess, albeit with quivering limbs and a black eye

♡ but before he could even stutter out a greeting, mikey hissed at him, “what the are you doing?” yet the guy only replied with a shrug

♡ upon observing the interaction, your eyes widen as you turned to look at mikey, “do you know him?”

♡ “never seen him before in my life, dear.” he smiled sweetly, but it was ineffective; you already knew he was lying as soon as he called you ‘dear’. 

♡ “(y/n)!” the guy yelled, trying to catch your attention, but only shaking even more as your gaze fell on him, “i was going to ask you, if—”

♡ mikey let out an exaggerated yawn, widely outstretching his arms to distract both of you, “this has been fun, but we’re running late for the movie.” 

♡ “but i’m not fin—” the poor boy was once again interrupted by mikey waving him goodbye, grabbing your hand and swiftly guiding you around him, back on the route to the cinema

♡ before he even got the chance to cry another plea, you had both already disappeared around the corner 

♡ once mikey had dragged you both far enough away from the bus-stop, you began your interrogation, “seriously, who was that? and what was he trying to say? did you give him the black eye?” you had to stop to take a deep breath, “also, you said the movie would start in the evening!”

♡ mikey brought your hand up —which he had a tight grip on — and kissed the back of it gently, “my bad,” he chuckled slightly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, “i forgot to mention him. i met him a few days ago and he was planning to ask you out so i politely informed him that you were taken.”

♡ “for some reason, i don’t believe that last part.”

♡ he snickered, “and yeah, the movie starts in the evening so we’re not running late. but he wasn’t taking the hint!” he whined while clinging to your arm, as if you were going to run away from him at any second, “forgive me?”

♡ “sure, whatever.” you sighed, rolling your eyes as you watched his expression light up, “but next time, mind your own business! i could’ve just said no, instead of you beating him up, or whatever you did.”

♡ “noted.”

MITSUYA TAKASHI

♡ during his time as the second division leader of toman, he’s overheard all kinds of stuff that he probably wasn’t supposed to; awkward small talk, plans to commit felonies, deep conversations, weed brownie recipes, discussions about health issues — the list goes on forever!

 ♡ however, one topic he has never heard any one ever have the audacity to speak about (within a ten mile radius of him), is you. even though, your relationship was public to toman. 

♡ your name was often kept out of people’s mouth since you rarely interacted with any of the gang members when you visited, hence they didn’t really have anything bad (or good) to say about you. none of them knew you besides the title ‘boss’ partner’. 

♡ so, that’s why mitsuya had to do a double take when he heard someone in his division mutter to the guy beside him, “why does his friend keep visitin’? it’s annoying. plus, they just sit and don’t talk to anyone besides ‘im. they must think they’re better than us or something.” right after mitsuya mentioned that you were visiting toman.

♡ he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow; did that guy really think that he was being sly and quiet? by the look on his face, he seemed pretty self-assured. 

♡ “um, i heard you, idiot.” he hissed, pinching his nose and shaking his head as he watched the knucklehead stare at him dumbfounded, as if the whole room hadn’t heard him too.

♡ “don’t say shit like that. they don’t think they’re better than anyone.” he scorned, balling his fist and almost twitching with anger, fighting the urge to pummel that guy for the sake of his own reputation in toman

♡ and that impulse almost immediately dissipated as soon as you entered the room; his hand loosened and opened to cup your cheek

♡ he was as sweet as can be for the rest of the night, of course, and he still managed to send that dude daggers whenever he got the chance. 

[talesofstyles]

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain. 

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder. 

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment. 

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car. 

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.” 

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later. 

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald. 

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.” 

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later. 

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks. 

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off. 

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.” 

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors. 

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve. 

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING. 

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head. 

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her. 

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals. 

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom. 

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife. 

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process. 

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop. 

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache. 

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink. 

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers. 

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest. 

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room. 

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward. 

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket. 

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages. 

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side. 

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door. 

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.” 

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going. 

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him. 

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear. 

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat. 

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes. 

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt. 

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige. 

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down. 

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.” 

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching. 

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

[urimaginespimp]

Boyfriend Material

Bucky x reader AU Trope: Mutual Pining (fluff)

--------

You were one of the newer members of the team, yet considered one of the most valuable. At the other end of the spectrum, Bucky personally feels he’s the least. But the fact that you always made it a personal mission to prove him wrong was one of the many reasons he likes you so much. But he knows you are just a really nice person.  

Giving him words of affirmation before and after missions in the Quinjet, helping him with clever comebacks towards Sam, and introducing him to modern stuff was no task for you. Not when you are stupid attracted to him.  

Maybe it was his eyes, his chivalry, or that you just love men who just know when to keep their mouth shut, but it was obvious to everyone else in the tower that you were crushing on the old guy. Only that you had no clue he feels the same way.  

“They’re both world class fighters. There is no freaking way they’re both this stupid.” Sam groaned on the table.  

You and Bucky just had left the table after breakfast. Not together of course, but what got Sam all riled up was that all the while, he was seated next to Bucky, and he had to endure minutes of a painfully awkward attempt of Bucky to keep conversing with you, while the rest of the team were trying to mind their own businesses.

Key word: trying. You’ve seen Nat and Wanda pursing their lips trying not to smile, Tony had to let out a cough or two to mask his chuckles, and you even caught Steve trying to discreetly take pics of you two. And you thought this was all directed to you alone.  

“We said we wouldn’t meddle.” Nat told everyone at the table.

“Can I at least subtly, SUBTLY, give that old man a few tips on how to talk without sounding like a robot?” Sam insisted, and he was met with a mis of sounds of approval and ‘fine’.

--------

“Hey, tin man, look at this list I found on the internet.” Sam approached Bucky while he was training in the gym.

“Sam if this is another one of those girls and a cup thing, I won’t hesitate to attack you this time.” Bucky glared at him while Sam laughed at the memory. He didn’t really show the guy that awful video, just narrated what had transpired.  

“No, it isn’t. It’s a self-help one.” his serious façade was enough to convince the ex-assassin into giving him attention.  

“Top 5 pick-up lines that are guaranteed to get the girl.” he read the test out loud before glaring at Sam. “What the hell is this, Wilson?”

“What? I actually tried some last week and now I have a date. I’m just showing you, man”. He feigned innocence.  

“Let me read that.” Bucky snatched the phone from his hands.  

“There must be something wrong with my eyes, I can’t take them off you. Can you take me to the doctor? Because I just broke my leg falling for you. Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got FINE written all over you.” He read one after another, each one getting cheesier and cheesier.  

“Did you read the top 1?” Sam snickered.

“Hold on.”  

He turned back to Sam who was sheepishly smiling at him. “Is that how people these days actually get dates? Because you guys are not moving forward at all.” He shook his head.

“Whatever man. Lecture me when you get a date.” He replied with a playfully challenging tone and left the super soldier in the middle of the gym with his own thoughts.  

--------

It was a lazy day at the tower, and Y/N, Nat, Wanda, and Sam just got back from hanging out at the mall. Sam went out of his way to go to Bucky’s room first.  

“What, you can’t even leave me in my room now?” Bucky groaned when he saw who was standing outside his room.

“Be nicer man, I’m just here to give you a new shirt I bought for you.” and he handed over a paper bag.  

“Thank you, Sam.” Bucky muttered and gratefully accepted the bag.

“Do us both a favor and try it on to show Nat and Wanda. They kept saying I don’t have taste.”

“So, I’m like your project now?” he knew it was all too good to be true.

“Come on, man. It’s a free expensive shirt. I’ll see you in 15 at the common area.”

--------

He hated to admit it, but the shirt actually is nice. The color somehow made his eyes even more blue.

“Wilson, I’m wearing it!” He called out loudly, walking to the common area, only to stop in his tracks when he saw that you were the only one in there.  

“Uh... hey Buck. Sam said he’d be back in 5 minutes.” you smiled sweetly at him.

“Oh. I’m sorry for being so loud.” he scratched the back of his nek awkwardly.

“Here, come take a seat with me first.” you pat at the space next to you on the couch, and he happily obliged.  

“So, I heard you just got back.” he started making small talk.

“Yeah, I was able to buy a few new tops.” You smiled at him.

looking at him, you couldn’t help but notice that the shirt he is wearing isn’t something you’ve seen him wear before. You know this because you’ve only seen him in about 8 different shirts.

“Is that a new shirt?” you asked, mindlessly reaching out to touch the material by the sleeve.  

His breathe hitched. “Uh yeah, Sam brought it for me.”

“It’s really nice material.”

“Yeah, it’s made out of boyfriend material.” He found himself blurting out. You both froze at what he just said. He had no idea what came over him. But then he suddenly remembered.

It was the top 1 pick-up line from the list Sam showed him yesterday.

And if it weren’t disastrous enough, a loud laugh rumbled out from a few feet away from you. It was Sam howling over in laughter.

Both you and Bucky were deep crimson.

“You like her enough to actually try that pick-up line. Oh my god I’m gonna pee myself!” Sam said in between laughter.

“Not if I get rid of your balls first.” Bucky growled and was about to lunge at him when you snapped out of embarrassment and pulled him back to face you.

“Is it true?” you asked him awkwardly with a small smile.  

He was contemplating whether to come clean or lie about, and he found himself whispering ‘oh what the hell.’  

“Yeah. I do like you, Doll.” he confessed, looking down at the floor. “I just didn’t want to make it all awkward between us, or have you be the subject of everyone else’s teasing and fuckery because you-”

“I like you too.” you cut him off with a big smile.

“So, will you um... go out with me perhaps tonight?” what you just told him would have eased his nerves, but it somehow made him feel like his heart was gonna burst.

“Only if you wear this very same shirt, Barnes.” you chucked at him.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Doll.”

--------

@lizzarooni

[warmau]

☆ [nostalgic] summer romance!au jisung another late birthday au for the february neos ;__; find others here: johnny | haechan | taeil | taeyong | mark | jaemin | yangyang | yuta | sicheng | chenle | kun | yukhei | doyoung | jaehyun | jungwoo | ten

a sour taste makes its way down jisung's throat

he pulls the candy out of his mouth and scrunches his face up

"did this shit expire?"

renjun's lips thin, "since when have you started cursing?"

chenle harks on the grass beside the other two

"ever since he got dumped."

jisung doesn't disagree.

out of everyone to pick up on his change of habits, it'd be his best friend.

he doesn't like to admit it, but the breakup that launched the beginning of his summer has made him feel different

bitter, angry, empty

he's sure if he told someone older like his parents or a professor they'd explain that it's normal.

it's part of growing up to have to process these horrible emotions and learn to feel them less extremely.

that somehow doesn't comfort jisung at all, why is it his fault that being young makes everything feel more vivid? the shatter of the heart in his chest and all the little pieces wedged up in his veins hurt so bad.

"jisung, you'll find someone better."

renjun ties his shoelaces and gets up, he's still chewing on the taffy they brought from the corner store.

jisung follows and he's never been so awkward about his budding height more than he is now

"i doubt that, i don't think i could find anyone better than my first love."

chenle gives a depressed sounding laugh and renjun starts a spiel about how he's being dramatic and silly

the sounds gloss over in jisung's ears, he tosses the candy he'd spit out and the wrapper over his shoulder

"you shouldn't litter."

three sets of eyes turn to the voice, you stand there with your gym bag over your shoulder on a path a little way down from the grassy hill the boys are on

you look at jisung with an unwavering gaze that drops to where he assumes the candy wrapper landed

you bend down and pick it up, shake your head and walk away

jisung follows your figure through the park as renjun and chenle mutter about how you're kind of right but kind of rude

"do you know them?"

jisung asks and renjun taps the bottom of his chin

"i think ive seen them at the tennis courts."

jisung doesn't know what it is about you.

he mistakenly thinks it is dislike that breeds curiosity when he shows up at the public tennis court the next day

you're out on the court with a group of middle schoolers, showing them the right way to swing a racket

jisung leans against the shade of a tree as you go through each step slowly and then have the kids copy you one by one

when you make a sudden movement to turn in the direction he's standing, he slinks behind the trunk

this is so fucking weird, im being a creep

he doesn't have anything to do for the rest of the day, or the rest of the summer, but still he cringes at himself

i should find something better than staring at a goddamn stranger. chenle was right, im cursing way too much.

so he leaves and he doesn't come back

but he visits the park for the next week with the slight hope that your path will cross with him on accident

not that he entertains that as actual hope - just that curiosity that nips at his heel like a cat asking to be feed

on day seven it happens

jisung is staring up at the expanse of the warm blue sky and you're walking from the direction of the tennis courts, you pause to check your phone and jisung springs to his feet

he's in front of you before he really knows what to even say

you don't look as freaked out as he was scared you might, you actually just blink and then point your finger at him

looks like they've got bad habits just like me

"you're the boy who litters!"

"i don't usually litter, i was just in a bad mood that day."

"doesn't excuse throwing your garbage around."

"is that why you remembered me?"

you slip your phone into the pocket of your duffel bag and shake your head

"no, there's another reason."

jisung itches to ask why but he realizes now that this conversation is going exponentially better than it could have

you could have said something like get the hell away from me....or who are you?

"do you want to walk with me for a little bit?"

fuck, i should have just asked why - asking them to walk is weirder

"why not."

you and jisung do loops around the park - it's pretty big so by the time you're on the third loop the night lamps are coming on and the sun is slowly disappearing

you two have talked about everything and nothing at the same time

jisung asks you if you're going to be at the park tomorrow

"i teach a summer tennis course for the park three times a week, but tomorrow is my off day."

"have any plans?"

he puts his hands in his pockets because they're sweating - i should have asked if they wanted me to carry their bag while we were walking. god did getting broken up with make me so stupid too?

"are you asking me out?"

jisungs palms stick to the fabric of his pants

"i got broken up with before summer started."

he blurts out before he can take it back, you poke your tongue into your cheek

"me too."

the genuine surprise makes jisung look younger than he is and you cross your hands over your chest as if you regret sharing the information

"sorry, i have to go."

you edge around him and jisung has one million thoughts run through his brain, how he should apologize or ask for your number or suggest something that could heal you both in the snap of this one summer minute

but instead he watches you walk ahead for a whole two minutes before you turn on your heel and uncross your arms

"can you meet me here at noon?"

"tomorrow?"

jisung feels the sweat on the nape of his neck now too, matching the moistness on his palms

"no, in twenty years. yes - tomorrow."

he nods and you don't give him anything else to work with as you disappear and jisung catches the last little slither of sunlight wave goodbye with you

"are you rebounding already?"

chenle's voice comes through the headphones as jisung clicks on a zombie with his mouse and shoots it

"it's not a rebound - we both got dumped so i thought we could like...FUCK! i died dude."

chenle groans

"maybe they can help you fix this cursing problem, but uhhh it totally sounds like a rebound to me."

jisung thinks about that as he waits for you at the park

rebounding has actually never even occurred to him as a possibility.

then again falling head over heels and getting tossed aside by the person he thought was his soulmate also never occurred to him as a possibility either - especially not before he's even managed to graduate university

but using someone to feel better about himself - that just isn't him.

"oh you actually came?"

he stops staring at the grass and meets the half smile you're wearing. he matches it with a shy one of his own.

you take jisung's hand easily - as if you weren't strangers a week ago - and tug him toward the park gates

"where-"

you look over your shoulder

"we have to eat ice-cream on a date."

jisung and you have the same taste, getting the same flavor of ice cream with a hard no to sprinkles. you tell jisung about this kid you teach privately for tennis and how he's a little rich brat but his parents always tip you nicely. jisung tells you that his best friend is chenle and they met when he nearly broke an elbow on the first day of middle school.

jisung pays for your bus ticket into the busier part of the city, you beat him at a couple of arcade games, and then he absolutely crushes you at mini-basketball. you pile all your tickets together and jisung tells you to pick the prize you want.

he watches you as you scan the cheap toys and then turn to your left where a younger girl is trying to see if she has enough for a sad looking stuffed panda

you dump the tickets into her hand and grin when her whole face lights up, jisung walks out behind you and goes

"you're actually nice aren't you?"

"oh - you didn't think i was nice when we first met?"

"i-"

jisung stutters when you look directly at him

"i just mean you- it was nice what you did in the arcade."

"why did your ex break up with you?"

jisung's world sort of stops for a moment. you still haven't looked away and he gets lightheaded by the sudden question.

"i don't know."

you nod, as if the answer is what you expected, and you take his hand again and make way toward the bus

he curls his larger fingers around yours and is silently thankful you don't ask for any more details

actually you both don't say anything the ride back, even though you rest your head on his shoulder the entire time

your hands are still clasped together and jisung finds himself not wanting to let go even when you stop in front of the park again

"thanks for the date."

you unwind your fingers first and jisung swallows

"do you want to go on another one?"

you shake your head

"sorry, i don't think i can do this more than once."

genuine shock sets in on jisung's face

"w-what do you mean?"

"i know being heartbroken makes you lonely, it makes me lonely too, but i can't just be someone's summer fling and get abandoned again. plus jisung -"

you tilt your head with a small laugh

"i think you're really cute and if we do this again i will start liking you seriously."

what the fuck do i say?

jisung thinks the summer heat in the air constricts around him - especially when he can't open his mouth to answer and you give a solemn wave as you turn and start to disappear down the sidewalk

fuck fuck fuck fuck

the curses start to hurt his brain and jisung breaks into a sprint to catch you before you make it to the end of the block

slipping his hand back into yours and spinning you to face him

"im not going to abandon you. and i - i already like you so please let me take you on another date."

the words fall out like letters into alphabet soup and you stare wide-eyed at him for about a second before you lean in and kiss him

and jisung forgets the entire language he's spoken since he was a child, curses and vulgarity gone with it

the second date comes and goes, then the third, and then the fourth, fifth, and sixth.

jisung watches you give tennis lessons and you even tug him onto the court one day to help with picking up the scattered balls off the court

the younger kids you teach really adore him, tall and smiley, they cling to him more than they do to you

and there really isn't any way you can stop them because soon enough you feel that urgency to be near him always too

it might be because jisung is so different from your ex, and you are so different from his

the reality is that when you finally tell each other what happened before your respective summers started

it turns out - it's almost exactly the same

jisung looks up at you as you lay across him in the tall grass of an empty corner of the parks sprawling fields, your tennis equipment abandoned and his shoes sitting beside yours in a lazy heap

"they just told me one day i wasn't enough."

you bury your face in his chest and sigh

"maybe im not, maybe something about me is still missing."

the tenor of his voice is sad and you put both hands on the grass to lift yourself up above him, you stare down into the prettiest eyes you've ever seen on a boy in your life

"shuttup park jisung. nothing is missing from you. you're enough."

he gives you a goofy smile and you want so badly to smile back and kiss him but you take the moment seriously and add

"remember when you asked me if i only remembered you because i caught you littering like weeks ago?"

the furrow of his eyebrow is enough of an answer

"i said there was another reason."

he sits up and you fall gently back against his knees and lap, jisung opens his mouth as if to ask what it was but you put your hands on both his cheeks before he can

"that reason was because i could see all of you - people tend to be shrouded in something, but it was all on your face the moment you made eye contact with me. jisung - you're the farthest person i know from being incomplete. you're you and no one else."

the weight of your words comes crashing down on you a second later and you get up off of jisung in a fit of embarrassment

even though you meant what you said it felt like something of a wedding vow than something you say someone you've been dating for only a month

but jisung just breaks into a bigger smile - he pulls you back down into a hug that gets you both covered in grass stains

"im so happy"

you smell the fabric softener on his t-shirt and suddenly wish you could slip it off of him and put it on yourself

his hands tighten around you

"i always thought the other reason was because i was ugly or something."

you scrunch up your nose and tell him to be quiet, but jisung just laughs and buries his nose in your hair

the rest of the summer is smooth and the happiest one you've had so far - and jisung, who had thought it would be hell, agrees

renjun points out that he hasn't heard jisung even utter the word 'damn' since he started dating you

and chenle cuts in that it's true - now whenever they game jisung just groans into the mic (or abandoned the game completely to fool around you with - as it is in chenle's imagination)

you notice it too, and you notice how everyday jisung grows further from the heartbreak that he had festered on for so long

and just becomes more open with you

on your last day at your summer job and what feels like the last day of summer in general, jisung picks you up with balloons

you both hand them out to the kids you worked with and keep one shaped like a big red heart tied around your wrist as you two walk through the dimming evening of the park

fall is coming, your shoulders shake and jisung pulls you closer into him, and when he stops suddenly

you see that you're in the place where you first met - when jisung had let that candy wrapper tumble down a grassy hill and you had picked it up with disdain

"is untying the balloon and letting it float off considered littering?"

he asks and you think for a second

"probably, it'll get stuck in a tree somewhere and we don't want that."

he looks down and leans in to kiss you gently, letting your lower lip sit between his teeth for a moment before he pulls away

"can we do it anyway to make the moment special?"

you look at him, eyes clear as day, and answer

"every moment is special with you."

jisung manages to get ten of those red balloons through the door of your shared apartment on your tenth anniversary

you fret about how balloons are bad for the environment, but still launch yourself at him in a big hug when he gets them all settled into your living room

he catches you, laughing as you both muse that you can't believe it has been ten years since you met

"and i haven't cursed once since then - can you believe it?"

you roll your eyes and say yeah sure, like he didn't curse when he stubbed his toe on your bed this morning

he pouts his lip and asks, "play along ok - just say i haven't cursed once."

"you haven't cursed once in the ten years we have been dating."

something twinkles in jisung's eye and you bite back your lip

"exactly - so is it ok if i curse this one time and say-"

he fishes something out of his pocket that looks like a small box, you think your breath catches in your throat

"i fuc-freaking love you - will you marry me?"