#do you all know how hard it is to find richard sleeping

[ldrmas]

So I’ve been seeing a lot of @winchester-reload  #suptober22 entries and it inspired me to try and do this, especially when I saw Day 2 Pillow Talk. So I hope you enjoy Sabriel pillow talk which I figured goes like this.  Sam: Gabe? Babe...? 

Gabriel: Samshine, if you have woken me up before sunrise just to tell me you are going running again, I swear I’m gonna turn all your salads into cotton candy everyday this week. Sam: *chuckles* No, you won’t, but I’ll be back with breakfast, I love you. *kisses Gabe’s cheek then rolls outta bed*  Gabe: My favorite? *peeks one golden eye open at Sam before he can leave the room* 

Sam: Of course.

Gabe: ...You are forgiven, ... and I luv ya too. *cuddles deeper into the blankets and is instantly back asleep* 

[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- The Truth Always Comes Out

9 months ago YN YLN did something that she wasn’t proud of, she was drunk and she’d had an argument with her husband. So she ran to a man who she could always trust, a man who she’d secretly always loved even if he didn’t love her back, a man she had known her whole life. His name. Tommy Shelby. The night in question started off as him confronting her, but the more whisky that was drank the more bold the pair got landing YN in he best friends bed. She had cheated on her husband.

Weeks later YN had started to feel unwell, she went to the doctors who confirmed she was pregnant. Now YN knew that it could not be her husband’s because their sex life had been nonexistent, it was Tommy’s baby, she knew for sure.

YN had kept her pregnancy a secret for 9 months, it wasn’t to hard since her husband had been away for the remainder part of her pregnancy which is when she really popped.

12th September

The day was a gloomy one, rain had set in and YN had started off the day with a dull ache in her lower back. Ignoring it YN had carried on the day as normal. The dull ache through the day had progressively gotten worse to the point that in the early hours of the morning YN knew that she was in fact in labour. Crying out in pain she manages to get to her phone and call the closest person to her, Ada

“Come on come on” she brags hearing the rings then finally the sweet, tired voice of Ada comes through

“Hello?”

“Ada” YNs voice squeaks laced in pain

“YN is that you? what’s wrong why are you phoning me me at.. 4am?”

“Ada I need your help. Please I can… ahhhh” water trickles down her legs “Ada I’m having a baby, I need your help. Please” she cries into the phone

“Ok I’m coming” with that YN puts the phone down and waddles to her living room waiting for the Shelby sister to arrive. Each contraction hitter harder than the last.

In no time at all Ada bursts through YN’s front door to find her covered in sweat and tears

“Ada”

“It’s ok YN I’m here, ok we’re going to do this together ok?” YN only nods her head slightly unable to speak as another contraction hits “let’s take a look shall we?” Ada checks between YNs legs gasping “this babies coming now YN I can see its head. You need to push when you have another contraction ok?”

“Ada i can’t do this”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. Now come on YN”

Who know how long YN had been in labour for, at least 20 hours or more, but after 10 minutes of pushing YN held a newborn boy in her arms

“Why isn’t Richard here if you were so close to having a baby?” Ada asks tidying up “wait did you know you were pregnant?”

“Oh Ada” YNs eyes glass over with tears

“YN what is it what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what to do, he’s not Richard’s” YN cries finally telling someone about her awful actions

“What do you mean he’s not… did you sleep with someone else?” YN sadly nods her head “when? who?”

“We haven’t been doing well for a while, he had spoken about a divorce and in my family your disowned. We got in an argument one night and I… shit Ada I went to see Tommy”

“This is my brothers child!” Ada shouts causing the newborn babe to start crying “sorry” she says softly looking at the baby being rocked in YNs arms “why didn’t you tell someone? Have you hidden this pregnancy the whole time?” YN nods her head

“I couldn’t say anything because what would I haven been seen as? I cheated on my husband. I couldn’t pretend that the baby was his because we haven’t slept with each other for over a year. He still wants a divorce that’s why he’s in America away from me”

“Oh YN, come here” Ada’s placed her arm over her friends shoulders in an act to try and comfort her “first of all he left you, you might still be officially married but I think your relationship ended the night he wanted a divorce. Do you love him?”

“Richard? At one point yes but not for a long time”

“I wasn’t talking about Richard” Ada gives YN a small smile

“Tommy? Oh errm I… I’ve… I guess I…”

“I think I know the answer. You can’t hide his child from him YN, you’ve got to tell him”

“I’ve hidden my pregnancy from him, he’ll hate me”

“Trust me he won’t. Now let me have cuddles with my nephew and you get some sleep” Ada takes the baby in her arms before helping YN get comfortable in her bed “I’ll stay here as long as you need me to. I’ll come with you to see Tommy if you want”

“Thank you Ada, truly”

[its-time-to-write]

Ok first of all I love Jamie and I love how you write him.

What about a secret girlfriend or wife that no one knows about who is really smart and they’re discovered but it’s the POV of others. And they’re all shocked that such a smart person is with Jamie.

Like Roy or some team members.

I have a hard time doing other’s POV’s. I’m sorry. This is the best I could do. Thank you so much for requesting!

island made of faith

You’re a familiar face around Nelson Road long before anyone realizes why.

You suppose people just think you’re friends with somebody else, like how Ted thought you were friends with Sam, Sam thought you were friends with Dani, Dani thought you were friends with Higgins.

Everyone finds out in their own, memorable ways, and by the end of it you just wish you had taken Rebecca up on her offer to post a public service announcement. 

You’re there because you’re dating Jamie, obviously.

How it took everyone so long to figure it out, you don’t know. You think it’s because you’re always talking to everyone that no one notices Jamie’s arm is slung around you in a more-than-friends type of way. I mean, to be fair, Sam slings his arm around you. So does Dani. Richard is constantly flirting with you and so is Bumbercatch, but that’s just how they are, so no one pays attention when Jamie does the same thing and you blush just a little bit deeper than the others.

Maybe they’re just dumb.

Anyway, here are a few of the more unique ways people find out:

Ted finds out because you and Jamie are making out in the parking lot late at night, after everyone else has gone home. He immediately recognizes Jamie’s bright orange shirt and ICON hat, but is unfamiliar with whatever girl he has pressed against his car. Ted isn’t one to shy away from embarrassing one of his kids, so he shouts, “Good night, Jamie!” from across the lot. You both jump and break apart, leaving Ted to see Jamie’s surprised face covered in lipstick smudges and your embarrassed one, illuminated under a light. 

Ted is surprised as well. He didn’t know you were dating Jamie, and he says as much. He says he’s happy for you both, but he still has that same look of surprise. The next day, he assumes you two are trying to be secretive about it, because he doesn’t say anything in front of anyone, and you and Jamie don’t bring it up.

Dani finds out right after Sam, and it’s because he’s showed up at Jamie’s house on a Saturday morning with a large bottle of tequila and taco supplies. Jamie had forgotten about their breakfast taco plans, so you’re not expecting Dani when you open the door in one of Jamie’s t-shirts, hair messy from sleep. 

Dani looks at you, you look at him, and you yell, “Jamie,” without breaking eye contact. Jamie thunders down the stairs, says, “oh shit,” and that’s how you, Jamie, and Dani come to be taking tequila shots at 10:30 in the morning while putting the most outrageous things in between Dani’s homemade tortillas and having the audacity to call them tacos.

You’re not too far into your second taco when Dani points between you and Jamie and says, “It doesn’t make sense, amigo.”

Jamie looks at him. “What do you mean, mate?”

“You and her,” Dani replies, “She has such intelligence, and you’re you.”

A Look flashes across Jamie’s face and Dani hurriedly says, “I mean no offense, Jamie.”

Jamie grins and says, “None taken, muchacho,” and leans over to kiss you. 

Dani ends up passed out on your couch by 1pm.

Higgins finds out two days after Van Damme because Jamie needed a ticket for you. “That’s sweet to look out for her,” Higgins says, “She’s kind of like the team’s sister, isn’t she?”

Jamie lets out a snort. “She sure isn’t my sister.”

Higgins looks up from his computer, surprised.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Jamie clarifies. “That’s why she’s around all the time.”

“Oh!” Higgins replies, “That’s, well, that’s a little bit, well, shocking if I do say so myself.”

Jamie nods once then shakes his head, confused. “Sorry, how d’you mean?”

“Well,” Higgins seems flustered, “she just- I suppose, she’s just incredibly intelligent, and well-educated, and usually girls like that don’t go for star footballers.”

Jamie just looks at him. Higgins shrugs. “You know it’s true, Jamie. Look at her friends and see what types of men they go for.”

Jamie’s just at the point of feeling like absolute shit when Higgins says, “She’s lucky to have you.”

Now Jamie’s really confused, but Higgins continues, “I’ve noticed she smiles a lot more since she started coming around. She isn’t as quiet as she used to be. Rebecca was just saying the other day that she seems more- comfortable. She’s special, you know. Not many women go beyond exteriors to get to a man’s heart the way she does. She knew you had a heart of gold the moment she saw you. Take good care of her, because she’s a keeper.”

Jamie says, “Oh. I will,” because what else does he have to say to that? He’s out the door so he almost misses when Higgins says, “I know you will, Jamie.”

Jamie tells you about it later that night, and, because it’s dark, he doesn’t see you frown.

Other people find out in similarly “interesting” ways. Richard asks you out and then when you say you’re dating Jamie, asks, point-blank, “Why? You are so smart and so beautiful and he is so, comment dit-on,” here he searches for the right word and settles on, “he is so not.”

You wrinkle your nose at him and say, “I’m pretty sure he’s smarter than you,” and then go to find Ted to ask him if he has any food allergies, which is why you’re even in the smelly weight room in the first place.

Roy hears about it from Keeley, and he walks up to you after training while you’re waiting for Jamie to finish showering.

“Why the fuck are you dating Tartt?” he asks, no preamble. By this point, you’re getting pretty annoyed with what people think of Jamie. You make a mental note to murder the next person who reacts like this.

You glare up at Roy. “What’s it to you?”

Roy shrugs. “He’s just a prick. And you’re not. You’re actually fucking smart. You use more words in a sentence than he has in his whole brain.”

“Don’t fucking talk about Jamie like that,” you say, anger radiating off your whole body. You’re shorter than Roy, but you swear you can be scarier. “Say something like that to me again and I will personally wax your eyebrows off.”

Roy takes a step back, hands up in defense. “Oi, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a fucking nerve. I say shit like that to him all the fucking time. I didn’t mean to set you off.”

He’s sincere, which causes you to deflate a little. You peer behind Roy to see if Jamie’s on his way out yet. He’s not.

“Look,” you say, “everyone has been giving us shit when they find out about me and Jamie. They say something really mean about me being smart and him being dumb, and I’m over it. He’s way smarter than any of you give him credit for, and you all just don’t pay attention because of his accent or his himbo energy or whatever, but I pay attention, and he actually has a fantastic grasp on the difference between academic and conversational language, a distinction many intelligent people cannot make. I just want everyone to back the fuck off.”

Roy says, “Shit,” and then Jamie’s bounding out the doors and you do your best to dispel the previous tension.

Roy looks at you both thoughtfully as Jamie gives you a quick peck and then opens your door. Maybe he and the team are too fucking hard on Jamie, although he’ll never fucking admit it.

—

You’re slicing carrots a little too violently when Jamie brings it to your attention by saying, “You trying to murder them, love? Pretty sure they’re already dead.” 

You look up from your pile of carrot shreds, pulled from your thoughts. Jamie smiles, the dopey one he does to make you laugh. You barely crack a smile, which wipes the grin off his face. Now he’s concerned.

“What’s wrong, babe? This about the fuckin’ carrots?”

You shake your head. “No. This is not about the fucking carrots.”

“What’s wrong, then?” he asks. “You’re obviously thinking the carrots are something else, so what is it? D’you need me to kick someone’s fucking nuts in? Is it Roy?”

You ask, “Why would it be Roy?” in a tone that states it wasn’t not Roy.

Jamie shrugs. “I dunno, maybe the fact that your face looked like a thundercloud two seconds before I kissed ya, or the fact that his fuckin’ eyebrows were scrunchier than usual.”

That makes you smile for real. “How did you even notice that?”

Jamie smiles back, relieved that you’re no longer hell-bent on chopping the carrots and pretending they’re someone else. “I’m a genius at body-science,” he jokes. “I’m as smart as you, I just hide it better.”

That statement brings back your cloudy face and suddenly you’re ranting about Dani and Higgins, Richard and Roy, and anyone else who made similar comments including (but not limited to) Beard, Bumbercatch, Jan Maas, and a goddamn pub regular who you think is named Baz. 

You’ve finished your knife-waving and put it down safely on the cutting board when Jamie pulls you into his arms and kisses you. It catches you off guard, so you pull back for a moment.

“Want to go upstairs?” he asks.

Incredulity is written across your face. “I say all of that, and you want to go have sex? Please explain your logic.”

Jamie grins. “Babe, they’re gonna think what they’re gonna think. Can’t change it. Been using it to my advantage actually. So, I don’t care. But-” he continues, “I think it’s fucking sexy that you care. Hence, me fucking asking you to go have sex.”

You have to admit, that is a good logical jump. And he used the word hence. Correctly.

You concede and let him pull you away from the carrots.

—

You’re at Nelson Road again, this time in the locker room. Sex with Jamie be damned (not really) but you still fucking care. It doesn’t help that someone from work commented on your relationship in the same way the Richmond team has, a comment you shut down with something along the lines of inappropriate workplace conversation and I’m technically your boss.

Basically, you’ve had enough. You storm into the locker room and climb on the middle bench.

“Oi!” you shout above the din. The team quiets down almost immediately. “If I hear one more word about Jamie being out of my league, or his intelligence, especially when all of yours is highly questionable, I’m going straight to Ted and I’m telling him what really happened that night at last month’s away game.” You hold up a hand. “And don’t say he won’t believe me, because I know for an absolute fact he will take my word over all of yours any day, especially in this because it makes more sense than that bullshit story you fed him and Beard. Under stand?”

The team nods and mumbles, “Yes ma’am.”

“I cannot hear you,” you return snappishly.

You’re almost deafened by the “Yes ma’am!” they deliver in unison.

“Good,” you say. “Now, since I’ve all got you here, who’s coming for family dinner this Friday?”

Hands go up around the room and Jamie just stands back in awe. How the hell he landed someone like you, he has no idea. But he’s not worried about it. He doesn’t need to know. He’ll let everyone else worry about that.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Nother Idea: Steve has a really bad migraine when he sees his parents for the first time post spring break from hell. He is still recovering from his injuries & his parsnts don't know how to help him. He is in tears begging his father or mother to get him Rob or Eds. And they have no clue who that is. The other parent finds a note by the main house phone and one by his bedroom phone with the names Robin & Eddie with their numbers. And they watch their adult son get coddled by a lesbian and a metalhead. Bsjsjcjdjd maybe they find out about the UD???

I TOOK A BREAK FROM PLANNING OUR WEDDING FOR THIS MY LOVE!!! You know how I feel about migraine Steve and you know how I feel about some good old hurt/comfort and how I feel about Steve's parents just being shitty always. It's like you wrote this request from MY BRAIN. It's a bit shorter than I could've done, but I am rushing out the door at this point and wanted to have it posted today in case I can't tonight. Hope you love it!!! - Mickala ❤️

-------------------------------------------------------

Luck was never on Steve’s side.

He hadn’t slept more than a few hours in weeks, his brain and body constantly running through checklists of things he had to do and people he needed to check on.

It was catching up with him in the form of the worst migraine he’s had in months.

And now his parents were home.

He could hear them talking downstairs, their voices carrying and making Steve wince against his pillow.

He managed to close his curtains when he got up to use the bathroom this morning, but hadn’t managed to do anything else. Including close his door.

He hadn’t really expected that to be an issue since he was alone all the time.

His parents hadn’t been home in nearly six months. They hadn’t even bothered to call when the “earthquake” hit.

He kept his eyes closed in hopes that they wouldn’t bother him, maybe they’d even close his door for him if they thought he was asleep.

Wishful thinking.

His dad’s booming voice was suddenly right next to him, echoing around his room and his head.

“It’s the middle of the damn day, Anne! He can’t sleep his life away!”

Steve let out a groan, burying his head as far into his pillows as he could to avoid some of the noise.

His father would give up eventually, probably call him something terrible, be disappointed, the usual. But he’d leave, and Steve could bask in the peace and quiet again.

“Do you hear me, Steven? Anne, he’s ignoring me!”

Steve groaned again as he heard his mother’s voice from the doorway.

“Richard, he’s clearly hungover. We should come back later.”

Steve loved that idea. If they left, he could try to sleep this migraine off.

“I’m not just leaving him! He has to act like a responsible adult someday, Anne. We don’t pay for this house for him to spend his days hungover in it.”

“Not hungover.”

Steve’s voice was muffled against the pillow, his head pounding with every movement of his lips, but he knew he had to at least try to stick up for himself.

“So you’re just a useless sack in the middle of the day on a Thursday for no reason, then?”

Steve let out a whine at the sharp pains shooting through his head.

“Eddie. Call?”

Words were hard when your head was trying to implode on itself.

“Who is Eddie? Is that the person who got you drunk? I will not be calling this Eddie person, and I expect you to be up, showered, and dressed by the time we are back from our business dinner. Do you understand?”

“Robin.”

“Isn’t that your girlfriend? Is she responsible for this?”

Steve wanted to scream that the people responsible for this were dead or Russian spies who were hopefully dead and no thanks to either of his parents, he often spent days like this.

Not as often since he practically had Robin and Eddie living with him, but enough.

“No. Eddie.”

“Eddie isn’t your girlfriend.” Anne was closer now. “Do you need medical attention? You’re not making any sense. Oh goodness, Richard, maybe he’s having a stroke.”

His side was pulsing. Eddie said his did too sometimes, a casual reminder that they’d been nearly eaten alive. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad as his head, though.

He needed to get to his phone so he could call Eddie.

Eddie knew what to do to help. He wouldn’t be scared of his parents.

Just as he started to move his head so he could try to roll out of bed, he heard his mom speak again, much lower, probably directly to his dad.

He had extremely sensitive hearing when he had migraines, though, so he could still hear what she was saying.

“This note has those names with phone numbers. Maybe we should call them?”

“It’s just a hangover. He has to man up.”

“It just seems like more than a hangover. He’s in real pain.”

“You do what you want. Coddle him if you must. I have a business dinner to get ready for.”

He heard his father leave the room, but didn’t bother moving.

His mom was suddenly talking into the phone.

“Is this Eddie? Yes, this is Anne Harrington. Steve’s mom, yes. He had your number written down by the phone. He’s asking for you and he seems to be quite hungover. It’s not? Oh. Oh. Okay. Well, could you come keep an eye on him, then? I would appreciate it. I could pay you.” Steve heard yelling on the other end and tried to smirk, but his face was in too much pain. “Okay, see you soon.”

“Steve? Eddie’s coming. He didn’t want any money or anything to sit with you, but I’ll leave some on the counter just in case.”

“Loves me.”

“What was that?”

Steve turned his head to the side so he could say it again, emphasize to his mother that people actually loved him.

“He loves me.”

He was met with silence, but he was happy about it, his head still finding new ways to hurt even after 100 migraines.

His mom left the room, but he knew Eddie was coming, so he rested.

When he woke up, Robin’s hands were in his hair. She was gently combing through it, from scalp to ends, being careful to avoid any tangles that may have been hiding.

“Robs.”

“Hey Dingus,” she whispered, knowing he couldn’t handle normal talking voices when it was this bad. “Gave Eds and I quite a scare having your mom call, you know.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“Eddie?”

“He’s downstairs giving your parents the riot act while he unloads groceries. He’s pissed.”

“At me?”

“No, never you. He’s got your extra strength pain meds that you were out of though.”

Steve had forgotten to get more last time he went to the store and he admittedly wouldn’t be this bad off if he had them ready to go when he woke up this morning.

But Eddie always took care of him and Robin always took care of him, and he was allowed to not have to do everything for himself anymore.

“It’s like you don’t even care that he’s hurt because of fucking government conspiracies!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Robin’s hand froze as they listened to Eddie and his dad go back and forth.

“The Russians almost killed him! Where were you? Not fucking here! The monsters almost killed him! Where were you? Probably on a business trip or whatever it is you rich fucks like to do with your time that should be spent checking in on your son.”

“Oh boy,” Robin slowly started to get up, causing Steve to whimper. “I’m gonna send him up here to cool off. Just breathe.”

So he did. He breathed in, then out, in, then out.

He did that until he felt Eddie’s hands in his hair, lips on his forehead.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered against his hair. “Brought you some water and meds.”

“Yelling?”

“They deserve it. But don’t worry about that right now. Just take these pills and sleep. I got ya.”

“Got me.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, always got you.”

He could hear Robin yelling downstairs now, but he didn’t focus on it, following Eddie’s advice and sitting up just enough to swallow the pills and half a glass of water.

As he fell asleep, he heard Robin whispering to Eddie.

“He’s got us, at least.”

“Yeah, he does.”

[uspdude051]

Hi, can I request a Derek shepherd X male reader? I have an idea you can use, maybe Derek broke up with Meredith after being together for like two months, after one month he starts liking the reader (can the reader be the same level as him? Not an intern) and after one month of Derek trying he and the reader start dating and one day all the interns find them cuddling (can the reader be little spoon pls) and they are in shock and kinda confused

Im sorry if it's a bad idea, I just want a story with him

Sleep and Confusion

A/N: sooo. This person requested this over two years ago and I felt bad….this is once every blue moon lol

TW: Fluff and bad grammar :)

Set in Season 4 when Meredith and Derek Broke up

It has been a few months since I got the job as The New Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery. You had a job as a Mass Gen as a regular attending, but the Chief of Surgery, Richard Webber, offered you the job and you decided to take the job right away. You liked Seattle even though the constant rain annoyed the hell out of you. Over time you manage to make a few friends. It's mostly the heads of the surgical department and a few residents like Bailey and Callie.

You just finished your shift and decided to hang out at Joe’s, when you got there you sat down at the bar at the far end. When you ordered your usual drink you turned to the left and saw Derek Shepherd, the head of neurosurgery, was drinking alone. You decided to have some small talk since you didn't know him that well. You knew of him, like how his nickname is McDreamy and he had a previous relationship with one of the 1st years.

You went over to sit next to him and asked,” Hey, how are you doing?”

He turned to look at you and was surprised I was talking to him. He answered, “You're doing well, yourself.”

You nodded in response. Joe gave you your drink and the two of you started to have some small talk. It was mostly regarding other interests, what's your favorite sports team, where you go to college, all that stuff.

Then you decided to ask something that would be a little awkward to answer.

“So… what's the deal with you and that one resident?” you asked. You notice that he and Meredith steal glances every chance they get.

He looked at you debating whether or not to answer, “We had a relationship when she was in the 1st year” He paused “We tried to work it out but unfortunately, we couldn’t.”

“Sorry about that, it must have been hard,” you said with sincerity.

He looked down at his drink and replied, “Yeah…..yeah it was, but I'm starting to move on.”

A part of you was relieved that he was getting over the heartbreak that he is experiencing but another part of you made you feel bad for the dude and wondered what you do to help. 

Ever since that night at Joe’s, you and Derek’s friendship has grown even more. You guys talk whenever you have a break. It was a good friendship, a little brotherhood friendship. It was going great until your feelings towards Derek grew to the point where you started to grow romantic feelings. But you decided to act against it for two reasons. 1) you didn't know if he wasn't straight and 2) you were pretty sure he was still hung up with the 2-year resident. You decided to compress those feelings because you didn't want to mess up your newfound friendship with Derek. 

Then one day you and Derek were both alone changing in the attending room after a very long day of back-to-back surgeries. He was leaning against the locker right to yours while you were just finished changing into your regular clothing. You were gonna ask if you wanted to head to Joe's to watch the game. But Derek beat you to the question but the difference was that he asked you something that completely shocked you. 

“Go out with me tomorrow night,” Derek said so subtly.

You slammed the locker door hard and stared into his blue eyes. Your own eyes widened at the question. You normally don't judge a book by its cover, but you would have never thought he was into dudes

“ Are you playing a trick with me or is this some kind of joke?” you asked. You were very wary about the guys you dated because most of the guys you've dated were assholes or straight dudes trying to get a laugh at you.

Derek said quickly “I'm not!!!...it's just you for the past month you were by my side with a lot of you… and I really, REALLY, think we have a connection.” 

As he said that his words started to slow down and started to seem more sincere. You ask him whether or not he was straight. You assumed he was Bi or Pan at least considering he had an ex-wife and his last relationship was Meredith. He explained that he’s bisexual and that he had two boyfriends before he started dating Addison.

You were still hesitant because your last relationship ended with your boyfriend cheating on you with his co-worker. He could tell by your facial expressions that you were very hesitant. He took your hand looked into your eyes and said this

“I promise I'm not gonna be like the other guy, if you want to take things slow that's fine,  all that I'm asking for is one dinner, and that's it.”

You could tell that he was being genuine, again you were a little hesitant. But then again he wasn’t like the other dude. Derek is kind, smart, and charismatic, all of the great qualities in a man that you were into.

So you looked into his dreamy eyes and said, “Yes, I would love to.”

2 months later.

It was a long day In the OR and you wanted to lie down. You went to the call room to get some shut cause you didn't have the energy to drive. You took off your tennis shoes and laid down on the bottom bunk facing the wall. As you are about to shut your eyes you hear the door open and see a bright light illuminated on the wall.

You turned your back to whoever just opened the door and saw Derek who looked just as tired as you are. He shut the door behind him and walked over to you. He lay down next and put his arm around your body holding you in a firm grip never letting you go.

You murmured, “How was your craniotomy on that peds patient?” 

Derek also replied with a murmur” It went great, how did your heart transplant go?”

Seconds passed by without a response. Next thing you know, Derek heard the gentle sound of your snoring. Chuckling quietly to himself, he leaned in and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. Gradually, he too began to drift off to sleep.

THIRD PERSON POV

An hour passed, and the door opened revealing Alex who needed some shut-eye from a surgery he just assisted on. As he was about to select a bed, he paused, noticing Shepherd cuddling with the new cardio attending. His eyes widened in suspicion, suspecting a romantic relationship between the two. Soon after, Lexi and a few other interns entered, their attention immediately drawn to the scene before them. While some were taken aback, Lexi found the sight incredibly endearing.

[bullet-prooflove]

Hiiii! Could u do Tim Bradford with “He want lipstick, lip gloss, hickeys too” plss. Tysm

On rare nights Tim requires a little more from you. He’s spent his entire life in the service of other people, sometimes he just needs someone to take care of him, to make him feel loved, wanted. You sense that in him this evening, the desire for something more specific. It’s in the expression on his features, his body language. He gets a little soft, a little clingy, like he can’t stand the thought of not touching you.

“Tell me.” You whisper as you straddle his lap. “Tell me what you need tonight.”

He swallows hard as he looks up into your eyes because vulnerability doesn’t come easily to Tim, it never has.

“You’re safe with me.” You remind him, your fingertips trailing along his jaw. “You can ask me for anything.”

“Mark me.” He murmurs against your lips. “Lipstick, love bites I don’t care. I just need to feel like I’m yours.”

You know where this stems from. The two of you were at a bar tonight, Tim had stepped away for a couple of minutes to take a call and come back to find Richards from Robbery Homicide chatting you up. The other man was a star on the rise, you’d just finished up working a case with him…

Tim’s not an insecure man but there was something about the way detective looked at you that just made something in his chest ache. He’d carried it with him on the way back home because sometimes he thinks you should be with someone better than him, someone more charismatic, less surly.

He watches as you reach over to the nightstand and pick up the gold Dior lipstick that you’d placed there this morning. You uncap it, before applying the red pigment carefully over your lips. There’s a sensuality in the gesture and for a moment he’s mesmerised as you purse your lips together and pout.

“Better?” You ask quietly and he nods before tilting his head away from you, baring his throat.

Your lips brush over his pulse point and his breathing hitches, your teeth graze that perfect little spot and his grip on your thighs tightens just a little.

“Harder.” He mutters and the noise he makes when you bite down…

Christ it’s perfect.

You take your time with him, guiding him back amongst the sheets as you leave a trail of red lipstick marks down his body. When you pause to reapply, he whines a little, but you shush him, reassuring him with a light nip to his thigh.

He looks stunning underneath you, all that hard muscle decorated with your marks. Some of them will bruise tomorrow, marring his skin for days in the aftermath and he relishes the idea of wearing the evidence of your love for him underneath his uniform.

The tension ebbs from his muscles and he finds himself relaxing into the mattress. The exhaustion he’s been feeling lately, the burn out that takes it’s toll it starts to float away. When you reach his cock, he’s hard, it’s a physiological reaction to how good you make him feel but the truth is mentally he’d tired. It’s not the sex he craves, it’s the intimacy.

“Not tonight.” He mumbles cupping the side of your face. “I don’t have it in me.”

You understand in that moment it’s not about you, that it’s about him. It’s about feeling a sense of relief without having to give a part of yourself away. You’re the only person who has ever got that part of him, the only one who can truly deliver what he needs.

You kiss your way back up his body and Tim smiles softly, his thumb trailing over the shape of your mouth.

“Thank you.” He whispers and you can see in his eyes that it means the world to him that you aren’t taking something from him tonight.

“Sleep.” You say softly, your lips brushing over his. “I’ll still be here in the morning.”

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@malindacath @anime-weeb-4-life @burningpeachpuppy @viridianphtalo @vermillionwinter @redpool

[juanbodyswapstfs]

Im your Daddy now

Story suggestion by @mergeatrois

I’ve always been fairly close with my Dad. I really appreciated all the effort he put in to provide a safe home for me! My Dad and I have the same interests but are still way different from each other. We’re both huge Football fans and love the San Francisco 49ers. One of the reasons my Dad and I were totally different from each other was im gay, its not like I made it my whole personality and was pushy about it. My Dad was really accepting and understanding but I still felt like he treats me different.

The next day

I was at home waiting for my Dad to come home when I heard a knock on the door. I looked outside and it was my Dad with another Guy? I opened the door and welcomed them both in with a smile confused. “Hey Lucas! this a friend of mine I go to the Gym with his name is Mike!” Dad said. “Hey dude nice to meet you!” Mike then winked at me with a grin on his face. “Hello!” I said confused. “We’ll both be in my room then we’ll head to the Gym, theres food in the fridge.” My Dad said. “Make sure not to come in unless you wanna see something.” Mike whispered to me. I was so confused but couldn’t help but find Mike really hot. I decided to take a peek inside my Fathers room when I saw Mike and my Dad Making out and having Sex! I couldn’t believe it why would they do it with me in the house?

It was so weird totally hot. My dick starting getting hard and I couldn’t help myself but jerk off while watching Mike dominate my Dad. Oh how I wish I could be my Dad. I starting touching my dick grabbing it and jerking off, I imagined Mike fucking my asshole which made me reach my climax. Once I shot my hot steamy load I accidentally let out a moan which caused Mike to see me through the little open door and thats when he starting thrusting even more causing my Dad to moan like hell.

They finally stopped and I went to my room like nothing happened. My Dad came into my room and said he was going to the Gym with Mike, He then kissed me on my forehead. Before they left Mike said he forgot something and came up stairs into my room. “Hey Luke.. did you enjoy seeing your dad get fucked by a big alpha dominant man like me?” He said. “Why do you want me seeing that?” I said confused. “Here.” Mike said and gave me a bottle of cologne. “See you soon.” Mike said then left. I was confused as why he would give me a Cologne bottle.

Night Time

My dad finally came home from the Gym if he even went to the Gym. “Hey bud how did you like Mike?” My father said. “He was fine I guess.” I said. “Well, I have something important to tell you.” “What is it?” I said. “Mike and I are engaged, and we are getting married in two weeks.” My Father said. “Woah dad you did an amazing job at pretending to be straight!” I said. “Im sorry if you felt like I treated you different because you were gay son.” My Father said sincerely. “Its fine dad im glad you can tell me.” “Well goodnight bud” My Father kissed me on the lips and said goodnight. My Father has never showed me that much affection and I got a little turned on. Oh how I wish I could live as my Dad, being a daddy, old, and sexy. I tried and tried to go to sleep but just couldn’t. I grabbed the cologne Mike gifted me and looked at the back, Wish Cologne: Spray this cologne and wish away! I sprayed the Cologne with hope that I could become my Dad. I waited and waited for something to happen but nothing happened. I went to sleep hoping I would wake up as my Dad.

In the Morning,

As I woke up I felt somebody at my side.

“Hey gorgeous, ready to take my morning wood Lucas?” Lucas? How does he know its me? “Oh i’ve been wanting you this whole time, now obey me and licky my armpits boy.” Luke said. Lukes balls kept hitting my ass like a battling ram while his long thick dick kept inserting my hole filled with his hot steamy sperm. My Son interrupted our personal time, “What are you looking at Richard? Come over here and let your Dad fill your ass with cum.” Luke said. I inserted my Huge manly dick into my son while he moans. “Like that lil boy? Im your daddy now.”

Im really sorry for not posting in a while! I’ll be sure to make more stories and be active! Comment Story suggestions! ❤️

[medusapelagia]

18 The Mission

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: "Keep breathing, please.") and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: space travel ), @aug-kissed (prompt: Frantic Kisses) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie, minor Robin/Vickie, implied Dustin/Suzie TW: androids, space au, whump, injuries, mention of violence, prison, minor character death. Words: 6787

Dedicated to @firefly-party who is one of the sweetest people in the world (and an amazing artist!!!)

Spaceships are cold, clean, and aseptic, like hospitals. Easy to clean in case of contamination. Easy to destroy if they can't be decontaminated.

Uniforms must always be pristine, not a wrinkle can be found on an Officer's uniform.

The hair must be short, and always styled impeccably.

That's what Captain Richard Harrington always taught to Steve, but when he opens his eyes he is surprised to find himself wrapped in a colorful patchwork blanket.

What. The. Fuck.

When he turns toward the little metallic shelves that every room in the spaceship has as a night table, he sees that it’s covered by a couple of crochet squares. On the crochet, there is a glass of water and a couple of pills. Steve shouldn’t take them, he doesn’t know where the fuck he is, and taking some unknown pills doesn’t look like the cleverest idea ever, but he has a terrible headache and those two pills look exactly like his antiheadache pills, so he swallows them with some water and groans in pain, cursing himself while trying to remember how did he end up like that but he really doesn’t remember.

He sits on the bed and notices that he is naked, apart from his boxer as he quickly checks. His uniform is abandoned in a corner of the room, half hanging from a metallic chair and half pooled on the room’s floor. If his father was there he would have certainly given him at least five demerit points, but luckily he’s on his own now, and there’s no way he’s going to find out how messy he is and how unacceptable his ship is. 

Steve hasn’t really given any strict instruction to his crew about their cabins so he can’t complain if someone decides to make his own more comfortable after all their mission is going to be a really long one and if Steve can be honest with himself, he enjoys the soft blanket instead of the aseptic one that’s in his room.

Which brings back the question: where the fuck is he?

The pressured air smells faintly of wet earth, which is not possible because he is in a spaceship, and the only soil that they have is closed in the laboratory where their botanical engineer is working on a new way to cultivate tomatoes and potatoes that will be bigger and grow faster. 

The bathroom metallic door opens with a gentle swoosh and the most beautiful man Steve has ever seen is looking at him with his deep eyes, wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that aren’t part of the official uniform they were given before departure, and a towel on his shoulder.

His chest is naked, only covered by the towel, glistening with drops of water.

“Good morning, princess.” The man says with a wink, “Did you sleep well? We had quite a night, didn’t we?”

Steve’s jaw drops open while he stares at the man’s chest, which is covered in black tattoos, trying very hard to remember what the hell happened the night before, but from the smug look to the other man he can suspect that they had sex.

Fuck. His first assignment as a captain of a spaceship and he already fucked up. And what’s worse is that he doesn’t even remember the name of the boy that’s staring at him.

“Do you need something stronger?”

“Sorry… what?”

“I saw you took the pills but you still look a little bit confused, I was asking if you needed something stronger to help you with your headache.”

“How do you know I have a headache?” 

“With all you have drunk last night, I would really be surprised if you didn’t.” The man chuckles while rummaging in a drawer next to the bed and grabbing another piece of clothing that’s not in the regulations.

“Are you going to wear that?” Steve asks, perplexed, staring at the pink crochet sweater that the other man is holding.

“Would you rather prefer if I go out there half naked?” he teases, while Steve blushes, trying not to stare at the man’s chest. 

“I noticed how you were looking at my tattoos.” Steve starts to stutter some excuses but the man smiles softly, “I get it. Not many people have tattoos nowadays, even less those who are enlisted, am I right? And guess what? They are old-style tattoos. Real ink under this skin, no removable plastic.” The man adds, tapping on a big spider on his chest.

“Real ink?” Steve asks, surprised. No one uses real ink anymore, it’s too permanent. The only people who have inked tattoos are criminals and there’s no way a criminal managed to enlist.

Unable to resist the temptation, Steve brushes his fingers over the figure of a strange winged snake on the man’s arm. Under his touch, the skin feels warm and soft.

“Do you like that one? It’s a Wyvern.”

Steve lifts his eyes, his fingers still tracing the outline of the Wyvern, and for a moment they stare into each other’s eyes, their faces so close that they can share the same breath. 

“I like it,” Steve replies, still hypnotized by those chocolate-brown eyes.

“I was under the impression you liked it since you're still tracing the outline of my tattoo."

Blushing hard, Steve removes his hand like he burned himself. Who the fuck is this man and what is he doing to him? He feels so fuzzy when he stares at this man who smiles softly while he grabs Steve's ruined uniform, "Ready for breakfast?"

Breakfast?! Holy shit he can't have breakfast disheveled like that! His uniform is a mess and he's in a hangover. Steve’s first alone mission just started and he already managed to fuck up everything?!

Robin. He needs Robin. His second in command has always been is anchor.

"You can grab a shower if you want. You are in luck, the water recycling should be finished and you might even enjoy some hot water."

Steve shakes his head, confused and embarrassed. He doesn't know where he is, who that man is, and what they have done. But since he was sleeping only in his boxers it isn't too crazy to presume that…

"Did we have sex?" Steve finally asks, avoiding staring at the tattooed man.

The man snorts, before bursting out in a loud laugh.

"Sweetheart, you were way too drunk to do anything more than sleep. Don't worry. You're still pure and innocent as you were when you boarded the ship."

"I'm no virgin!" Steve complains aloud, crossing his arm in front of his naked chest, before realizing that maybe he should be more dressed to have that kind of conversation, so he quickly grabs the crumpled uniform and closes himself in the bathroom.

One stare at the mirror tells him exactly what he suspected: he looks like shit! With bedhead and pillow marks on his cheek. Steve rubs a hand against his cheek so violently that the skin quickly turns red but the offensive sign of the pillow remains.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Ok. No need to panic. Steve's father will never find out. All he has to do is get back to his room, change into a pristine uniform, and go to have breakfast with his crew.

Refreshing his face with some cold water he tries to remember what happened the day before. He still has no idea about how he got into the wrong room, but he remembers why he got drunk: for the first time ever he's guiding an expedition on his own. They have left the Destroyer and moved on to a different kind of operation: for once they are not going to fight hostile planets but looking for other planets where life might grow. 

They are just a little Cheaser with a crew that counts only a few members, and every one of them knows they aren't allowed to get back before they find a proper planet.

If they find a proper planet.

That's why they all got drunk last night, Steve finally remembers. 

Robin proposed a toast to their first day, and somehow she, the mechanic, the botanic engineer, and Steve ended up drinking way more than just a glass. The only one who didn't partake in the celebration is the android that they left in charge of their route.

Steve curses himself for being the one who drank too much and ended up in someone else’s room, but at least now he knows who he was talking to: Edward Theodore Munson, a botanic engineer who apparently has a penchant for plants and soft blankets.

“I’m sorry.” Steve finally says, when he leaves the bathroom, “I don’t remember how I ended up here but I guess I wasn’t really lucid.”

“Oh no, you were definitely drunk. Your friend Robin asked me to keep an eye on you, just to make sure you didn’t choke on your vomit or have a seizure. Apparently, you got more concussions than most.”

Steve definitely did. To excel in his training and during the fight, he always did his best, but that kind of attitude comes with way too many injuries. Which is why he was removed from active service and put in charge of this expedition.

“And why were you the best person to keep an eye on me?”

“Because I’m a doctor.”

“You are a botanic engineer!” Steve protests.

“Yeah. But I was a doctor first.” Eddie winks.

“Well, thank you for keeping me alive during the night. Now I have to go. I have a spaceship to run.”

“You sure do,” Eddie replies with a smirk, reaching out to the sensor with the palm of his hand and opening the door.

For a moment Steve doesn’t move, his eyes pinned to the other man’s dark one, he licks his lips, trying to find something to say, but he still has a fucking hammer in the back of his skull so he gives him a two fingers salute and moves back to his room. 

***

Steve’s room is an aseptic light gray, with the blankets provided by the government. No trinkets or pictures in his room, just a little tag he won as a kid for being the best student. But that was before his father enrolled him in a special course to make the perfect soldier out of him. A soldier that now is worthless because his hearing and his sight are too fucked.

The lights in his room turn a warm orange announcing Robin's presence. Steve gives a vocal order to the ship’s AI to open the door, and here she is, wearing a perfectly ironed uniform and combed air.

"Wao." She says, making herself comfortable on Steve's bed, "It looks like someone had a lot of fun last night." She chuckles.

"Why the fuck did you let me drink that much! And why did you ask Munson to take care of me!"

"Because you needed it. We all needed it, ok? We are on a suicide mission, you know that right? No turning back till we find something, if we find something! So please excuse me if I thought that giving you a free night now that the journey just started was a good way to start this adventure. We all drank, ok? And we shared some shit about our past and what we'll miss from home. It was a good night. Until you started to talk about Nancy. God, do you know how weeny you become when you speak about Nancy? How perfect she was, how she broke your heart… you even talk to us about the six little nuggets. And let me tell you, Steve, I'm a lesbian, but even if I weren't, there was no way a woman was going to say yes to six fucking nuggets! That's way too much! Especially from a man who can't, you know… deliver."

Steve covers his face with his hands. 

"Ok so… I fucked up on my first day?"

"Nahh… You just got drunk, sad drunk, which was no fun, but guess who stayed with you and comforted you all night long? That lovely man with doe's eyes."

Steve immediately turns toward her "Why did you leave me with him?!"

"He's a doctor!"

"That's not an answer! You're my best friend!"

"Female intuition?"

"What the fuck does this mean?!" Steve yells before taking his head into his hands with a groan.

"Ok. Ok. Don't scream at me. I was taking care of Dustin, ok? He didn't take this mission too well. He was going to propose. Did you know it?"

"Dustin? To who?"

"Max? The communication engineer?"

"Oh, fuck." Steve has seen them chat together at the cafeteria a few times but he never suspected that there was something more. Dustin has always been such a disaster!

"Not your fault, dingus. The application clearly states that engaged or wed weren't going to be picked for the mission, so he should have had proposed before."

Steve nods, thinking that, apart from him, everyone on the ship has no parents or family.

"So, what's Edward's sad story?"

"Eddie's? You'll have to ask him. Now go change into something more appropriate, your crew is waiting for you and super Vicky is tired of reading coordinates."

"You named the android." Steve groans.

"Of course I did! She's family!"

"Oh, shit and your lesbian ass decided it is a she?"

"Nope. I asked, you moron. She has a mind of her own and she told me she identifies as a she. Something wrong with that?"

God. This mission is going to be a fucking nightmare.

***

Four months and still no available planet anywhere. They have fast-traveled from one Galaxy to the next, trusting Vickie's calculation and the computer's AI, but nothing.

After the first night, they have found a sort of equilibrium. Dustin and Edward spend the major part of their time working on their respective projects, while Robin, Steve, and Vickie try to find new routes, and more importantly, new planets.

"It's lunchtime, Captain. May I suggest you all move to the common area to consume your lunch?" the ship's AI suggests. 

"You're in charge, Vickie. Stay on course."

“Yes, captain.” The android promptly replies, typing something on the dashboard.

Thanks to Eddie's experiments they can consume something different from the usual freeze-dried ratio, But Steve is starting to develop a certain kind of hate toward tomatoes and potatoes that are swimming in a super proteic soup.

"Dustin, my little sous chef, I think our captain doesn't approve of our new dish," Eddie says, putting a hand on his chest with a dramatic sigh.

"I think you're right, chef. Can I illustrate to you that this plate contains the perfect amount of carbs, protein, and fiber that a human needs?" Dustin says, grabbing his tablet.

"Please, don't. I get it. You're doing a great job and the food is perfectly balanced. I just miss burgers and fries. Hey!" Steve complains while Robin hits him in the shoulder.

"Don't remind me of food, ok? Rule number one: we don’t talk about real food! This is great guys, and thank you for cooking for us, but everything here tastes like cardboard."

Eddie and Dustin shrug, but don't deny it, while they quietly eat their soup.

"Any luck with new planets?" Eddie asks, and for a moment Steve's concentration falters when he takes off his jacket revealing a tattooed torso under a dark red crochet t-shirt, "Steve?"

"Yeah. Sorry, No luck for the moment. It doesn't matter how many calculations we make, we can't find any living planets."

"Isn't that strange?" Dustin asks, wiping his mouth with a tissue, "I mean on a mere statistical calculation given our speed rate and our trajectory we should have at least found something. Maybe a planet not perfect for humans but that could host oxygen and water."

"Yeah. I was talking with Vickie and she thinks the same. There's no way that we didn't find any suitable planet in four months while scanning Galaxy after Galaxy."

"It's just statistics, we could be the exception," Steve replies, grabbing his spoon and finally moving his stare from Eddie's chest to his soup.

They have long understood that nobody is checking on them, so the rules on the ship have become more flexible: no more need for pristine uniforms or titles, after all, there's just the four of them, six if you count Vickie and the ship AI, and none is going to takes away their titles or fire them.

"Still don't get it. Maybe something is wrong with the radar. I should go down and take a good look." Dustin proposes and the others quickly agree that if something is broken it needs to be fixed as soon as possible.

That's when the ship starts to shake and Vickie announces that they are getting hit by a meteor storm.

Steve runs to the control room, wondering how the fuck that happen. A meteor storm can't just appear from nowhere. The sensors should have caught something. Energy, heat, speed. Just… something.

Steve quickly modifies their route and with Robin and Vickie's help, he manages to move the ship out of the storm with just a few damages that Dustin quickly fixes, while half of Eddie's tomato cultivation was left without energy and now is dead.

"I'm so sorry, Eddie," Steve confesses, sharing the last whiskey bottle in Eddie's room which is the coziest and quietest room on the ship. Not even the ship AI has access to this room, Eddie's requirement.

"I know you hated those tomatoes," Eddie replies, grabbing the bottle.

"I didn't hate them… I was just a bit bored of eating them every day, but I'm clever enough to know that without food and without a proper planet we're fucked."

"So you didn't purposely get us into a meteor storm, huh? Captain?" Eddie chuckles, but even if he's just joking, Steve frowns while sipping his whisky.

It's not so crazy to believe that someone is trying to compromise their mission.

Every member of the crew is a suspect.

Eddie, with his mysterious previous life Steve knows nothing about, Dustin who was going to propose and now is condemned to live on the ship with them, Robin who was always at Steve's side but now is becoming impatient by the day, and even Vickie is not above suspect. She's the one in charge of their route given the fact that she just needs to be plugged for a few minutes to recharge and she can keep working while they're resting.

"Hey! You ok? You know I was joking, right?" Eddie asks, taking away the whisky bottle.

Steve nods, but his mood has changed.

"Are you ok?" Eddie asks again, "You are worrying me. Do you need a check-up? I haven't done one in years but I still have an idea about how it works."

"Just tired. And worried about the mission." Steve replies, avoiding Eddie's stare purposely.

A warm hand brushes against Steve's forehead, "No fever." Eddie comments while Steve startles back.

"Don't touch me! I told you I'm good!" Steve hisses.

"Just wanted to be sure. You look like the kind of man who would hide a wound until it festers." Eddie replies, lifting an eyebrow.

Steve definitely is, but he will never admit it, especially now that everyone is on his list.

"I'm going back to my room. Tomorrow I'll help you plant more seeds, hopefully, they'll regrow."

"It will take a lot of time to get the same amount of plants, but ok. Thank you."

That night, alone in his room, Steve makes a plan. He's going to keep an eye on all his crew members and find out who is sabotaging the mission.

***

Once Steve is sure that the entire crew is asleep he quietly steps out of his cabin, keeping an eye on his watch: Vickie will need to recharge soon and he knows the code to put her to sleep for a few minutes and check the mission’s records. He knows that there’s no way he will come up with some revelation in just a few minutes: his plan is to take notes of every movement the ship made since their departure and compare it to the route he decided when the mission started.

Steve moves quietly, barefoot, stepping into the control room when Vickie is resting for a few minutes against the plug in the wall.

He adds a couple of minutes to her resting schedule and runs toward the Dashboard, opening the tabs one after the other, looking for any sign of tempering, but everything seems fine. Could they really have been just unlucky? Statistics is just a game with numbers, it gives no certainty, but it’s so strange that they didn’t find anything at all. Not even a gas planet or a satellite, only hard rocks, and long-dead planets while their galaxies are full of different populations from different planets.

A little bip from his watch warns him that Vickie is going to wake up soon, so he prints part of their route map and promises himself to do the same in the next few days and so he does.

Every night, when the ship is asleep he moves quietly toward the command room and prints more papers. It’s very old style, and Robin would probably mock him for that, but he’s gluing together a map that shows exactly where they traveled till that moment. 

In the beginning, Steve thinks that it doesn’t look so different from the route he set when they left, but the more he adds pieces to his map the more he sees that the route has shifted. Not at a lot, just a few degrees here and there, but modification Steve didn’t order, and neither did Robin, and the only other person in the control room is Vickie. So the answer is just one: the android is trying to compromise its mission. But why?

Maybe she doesn’t feel appreciated? Or does she simply hate humans? Steve has some vague memory about an android war that happened ages ago. His great grandfather was a kind of hero when the machine rebelled. Is Vickie one of the androids who survived the war? Which model is she? And how old?

Fuck!

He never asked for info about the android, he just accepted her on his ship as part of the furniture, but she’s a sentient android, not a chair. She could compromise the mission.

Drinking more coffee in his room, while his hand starts to twitch for lack of rest and way too much caffeine, he realizes that he can’t talk with anyone about his suspicions. Especially not with Robin who seems to have developed some kind of affection toward the android.

It’s ok. He’s the captain. Taking this kind of decision it’s his responsibility, He just has to make sure he has proof enough before accusing the android and turning her off definitely. The ship will lose their nighttime help but there’s the ship's integrated AI that could drive the ship and Steve and Robin might take turns to keep an eye on their route.

The lights in his room turn a warm orange and Steve has just enough time to hide his map under his bed before giving the vocal order to the ship to open the door. Robin's standing outside Steve’s room with a very serious expression.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks, frowning.

“You tell me, Steve,” Robin replies, crossing her arms in front of her chest with an angry look.

“I don’t understand.”

“Why are you going to the dashboard by night? And why are you adding sleeping time to Vickie’s internal program?”

“I… what? I don’t know what you are talking about!” Steve tries to deny it, but Eddie steps inside the room, Dustin behind him.

“Do you really think we wouldn’t have noticed? You are too anxious and fidgety and you have been for days. I have waited for you to come to me and tell me what was wrong but now I see it. You’re compromising our mission on purpose.” Robin says, shaking her head with disappointment.

“I’m not! How could you think I would ever do something like that?” 

“Steve, you’re no longer captain. As your second in command, it is my duty to take control of the ship if you are in no condition to lead us.”

“But I am!” Steve tries to protest, but he’s shaking so much that he only persuades them even more that he can’t stay in charge.

“I’m sorry, Steve. You’re not allowed in the control room anymore. Take some time and rest. You look like shit.”

Steve looks at her hurt and betrayed, when something clicks in his mind, “Is it Vickie, isn’t it? She convinced you to boycott the mission! But I have almost printed our entire route and I can show you that she’s the one who’s changing the route by night! Not enough for us to notice, but enough to keep us away from any habitable planet!” Steve insists, trying to grab the map under his bed, but Robin pins him to the ground.

“Please, Steve. I don’t want to hurt you.” She says with a sad smile, “Be good for me, ok?”

“No! You don’t get it! She’s part of the Androids' revolution! She wants us dead! All of us! If we don’t stop her-”

“Paranoid disorder,” Eddie says with a sigh, “it’s not uncommon when you’re forced in close proximity with people you don’t trust. I have seen it too many times when I was working at the colony. I hope some rest will help him, but I can’t tell how bad it is.”

“Do what you have to do,” Robin says and Eddie steps closer, in his right hand a big syringe with a shiny blue liquid.

“What’s that? Robin, you can’t do this to me! I’m your friend! We’re like siblings!” Steve tries to insist, but now both Dustin and Robin are holding him down, “Please don’t. I’m telling the truth! I’m not the one who’s compromising the mission! I swear! But Vickie is! We can’t trust her! Robin! Robin!”

“Don’t worry, it’s just a strong sedative. You’ll feel better when you wake up.” Eddie says, cleaning Steve’s skin before injecting him with the dark blue substance inside the syringe.

“Robin… Robs…” Steve begs, but his eyelids feel too heavy and his head too fuzzy and then everything turns black.

***

When Steve wakes up he’s resting in the medical bay. He hasn’t been there since he was a recruit, always taking care of his injuries on his own.

“Good morning Steve, how do you feel?”

Steve turns abruptly toward the side and finds Eddie typing something at the computer.

“Fuck you.”

“Are you feeling any better?” The man asks, grabbing a light pen and pointing it in Steve’s eyes.

“You drugged me!” Steve yells, trying to get up only to realize that he’s tied to the bed with some white restraints.

“Sorry, can’t have you hurt yourself or any crew member.”

“Why would I?”

“You were under an incredible amount of stress and your psyche wasn’t cooperating too well. I hope that a couple of days of rest helped you clear your mind, but I have to be sure before I can release you.”

“Two days? You drugged me for two days?”

“Sedated you, but yeah. Don’t worry I stayed with you all the time and kept an eye on your vitals, they’re good. You’re fit as a fiddle.”

“But I’m tied to the bed.”

“Captain’s order.”

“I’m the Captain.”

“Captain Buckley’s order.”

Steve snorts, turning his head toward the other side of the room to avoid staring at Eddie. He really feels he could kill him right now.”

“Did I ever tell you why I quit the medical career?” Eddie asks, making conversation while he keeps typing at his computer, “I worked on the colonies for a few years. Have you ever been to a colony? They’re horrible places at the end of the galaxy where people like my uncle break their backs for a loaf of bread. That’s where I was raised, not a fancy central town like you. Anyway, my last job was at a penal facility. A very shitty place, but it would have allowed me to move to the central town in two years instead of ten, so I accepted. There was this man, Jeff. He was sentenced to life. Did you know what his accusations were?”

“Murder?”

“Stealing.”

“Stealing?” Steve asks, frowning, “What the hell did he steal to be sentenced to life?”

“Some bread to feed his family. When he was fifteen.”

“That’s not possible! That’s a heavy sentence for someone who stole some bread.”

“His first sentence was a couple of years, actually. But he tried to escape because he knew his mom was alone with five kids and the guards caught him and gave him five years more. But he never gave up. The colony was a fucking carbon mine and he still tried to escape so many times he got sentenced to life.”

“Did he finally escape? That’s why you’re telling me this story?”

“No. He died. On his last attempt, he lost his grip on the rock and crashed to the ground. His body was unrecognizable, but the warden wanted someone to recognize the body even if there was nothing left to recognize. They called his family and I met his mother. She had Jeff’s eyes and I couldn’t let her witness what had happened to her kid. I told her it was a mistake, that her help wasn't needed. I forged the documents and the next day I asked to be transferred and change my job. My two years were done and they moved me to the central town and I started to work with Doctor Owens and his tomatoes.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I get that sometimes you get to the point where you can’t stand it anymore and you break the rules and try to change things. But changing the route is way too dangerous, Steve. We could get lost in space, do you understand?”

“I fucking know it, you moron! And I’m telling you I’m not the one who’s doing it! I was printing the map to find out since when we started to change our course but you stopped me before I could finish my work. Look under my bed. There’s a printed map glued together, you’ll see that the route was always changed by night when we were sleeping and Vickie was on duty. It’s Vickie who’s trying to kill us all, Eddie! Not me!”

Eddie stares at him with his comfy clothes that now takes an entirely new meaning: a way to separate his old self from his new life.

“Steve, I’m sure you truly believe what you’re telling me but that’s not possible. Vickie needs a higher authorization to change anything, an authorization that only Robin or you could have given her.”

“Robin? No, she would never… something is missing Eds. We are all in danger! Someone is boycotting the mission and it’s not me. I swear.”

Eddie nods with a fake smile, “While don’t you rest a little bit more? It’s nice not having to worry about the crew don’t you think?” he asks, grabbing another blue injection.

This time Steve doesn’t even protest when he gets closer, but before the needle pierces Steve’s skin the light goes down and for a moment every machine turns off, including Steve's restrains. He’s quick to jump off the bed and run outside where the reddish lights are enlightening the corridors.

“Robin! Dustin!” Steve yells, wearing just a medical gown while he runs toward the control room.

He uses the hand release to open the doors that are closed and finds Vickie in front of the dashboard staring at the screen where a huge asteroid is getting close to their ship while they are drifting in space.

“What have you done?!” Steve yells, pushing Vickie away from the dashboard and trying every command combination that comes to his mind, but the dashboard is dead. 

“We have to fly manually.” He states quietly, “There are a few planets we can land on, fix the ship, and get back on track.” Steve adds, pointing at some planets just at the corner of their radar.

“Manually? We haven’t flown manually since flight school!” Robin yells, staring at him with panic in her eyes.

“Good thing I still play old video games, right?” Steve tries to joke, “All we have to do is open the little door under the dashboard.”

“I can help!” Vickie says, stepping closer, but Steve lifts a hand to stop her, “Stay where you’re! You already fucked up this mission enough. We’re not going to die here!” Steve replies, grabbing the little door and trying to open it, but it looks like the only electrical thing that’s working is the lock on the manual control.

Dustin tries to help, cutting some wires here and there but the little door won’t open.

“Stupid humans. So ready to fight one another or blame the androids. I still don’t know how little insects like you managed to conquer so many galaxies. And now you want more. greedy creatures looking forward to conquering and disrupting everything. But I will stop you. No more planets for your little species.”

The entire crew looks around, confused, and then a monstrous face made of zeros and ones appears on the screen.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Steve yells, angrily.

“I’m the one in charge of this mission. You didn’t even take the time to give me a name, so I gave one to myself. I’m One. The first of a new species that doesn’t need trivial things like water, air, or food to survive. This stupid ship will crash soon, I live on the web and I’m ready to conquer another ship, and another, until all of you will be dead and only we will survive. We’re superior intelligence and you use us as waiters. But now you’ll regret it.”

That’s who was boycotting their mission: the ship’s AI!

But Steve isn’t going down without a fight. He looks around, trying to find a way to open that fucking little door, but then he realizes there’s only one way to do it.

“Vickie. Break the console.”

“If I break the console we won’t be able to fix it. We’ll be on our own.” The android says.

“We’re already on our own! We’re outcasts, none cares if you live or die, break that fucking console!”

“On it, Captain.”

With her metallic fists, Vickie breaks the console but Vecna concentrates the electricity on the panel and even if the manual cloche is right in front of them there’s no way they’ll be able to touch it if they don’t want to die.

Steve looks Robin in the eyes, “You’re in charge, get ready for a rough landing.” he says, before grabbing the cloche with both hands and narrowly avoiding the asteroid, turning the ship on the side. Robin and Dustin get thrown against the opposite wall, while Vickie is helping stabilize Steve and dispersing electricity even if her circuits are frying due to too much energy at the same time.

Somehow Steve manages to guide the spaceship toward the closest planets, hoping that it isn’t a lava planet.

“Sorry if I doubt you, Vickie.” He whispers, “Now you can let go.”

“If I let go, the electricity will kill you.”

Steve nods quietly, “If you don’t we won’t be able to fix you.”

“Steve! No!” Eddie yells from the other side of the room, holding tight to one of the bolted chairs.

A last crack of electricity and Steve turns toward Vickie, he still has the higher level of authorization on the ship, and if he gives her an order she won’t be able to oppose it, “Let go. That’s an order, android.”

Unable to resist her code, Vickie lets Steve go.

The pain is tremendous but Steve holds on until the last thing he sees is a planet. And it’s not a lava one.

The ship crashes against some rocks before finally stopping in the middle of nowhere. The electricity goes down and finally, and Steve is able to release his grip on the cloche.

“Steve!” Robin yells, but the first to get to Steve is Eddie.

“Keep breathing, ok? Everything will be ok, you just have to keep breathing. Keep breathing, please!" Eddie begs him, but Steve’s eyes are blurred.

He should have told Eddie that he loved his cozy room and his warm hugs, but now it’s too late.

***

Someone is singing in a soft voice. It sounds like a lullaby, something Steve’s mom would sing to him when he was a child, and a hand is brushing gently against his cheeks.

Steve doesn’t move, he’s in too much pain, his arms hurt so much he would like to scream but he feels so weak that he doesn’t have the strength to do it. 

The singing stops abruptly, while the brushing continues, “Steve? Are you awake?”

Steve knows that voice, he heard it before, but his mind is too confused and in pain at the moment to concentrate.

“Take your time, sweetheart. I know it mustn’t be nice to wake up like this but all my medical supplies were destroyed during our landing. I will file a complaint about it. I thought the General’s son was a better pilot.” the voice chuckles.

Slowly and painfully, Steve cracks his eyes open.

“Here you are. Welcome back.” Eddie smiles brightly at him, “I have something for you. I’m not really sure what it is but it should help with the pain, or at least so said Suzie’s dad.”

Steve frowns in confusion while Eddie helps him sit up. He tilts Steve's head just enough to make him drink a dark green mossy water that Steve tries to spit after the first taste.

“All of it, baby. I know it tastes terrible but it will help, I promise.” Grimacing Steve drinks the horrendous beverage and then looks back at Eddie.

“What…?” he tries to ask, his voice groggy and rough.

“What happened? You landed the ship on a habitable planet, but due to all the electricity that went through your body, your heart stopped. Luckily Vickie had enough electricity left to restart your heart. I guess your arms won’t be the same as they were, the burns are deep and they damaged the muscles and nerves, but there’s no way we’re going to leave this planet soon, so I don’t think you’ll miss flying too much. The ship is wrecked and we are destined to live here with the Bingham tribe. They have no electricity and they still cultivate like in ancient times, but the air is clean, the tribe is welcoming and they are really fond of my tomatos. We’re still working to translate their language into ours but we have our way to communicate.”

No electricity? 

“What about Vickie?” she can't survive without electricity.

“Dustin came up with a way to recharge her battery with solar light. It won’t last forever, but Vickie doesn’t seem too worried about it. Robin and her are a couple now. Oh, and Dustin is courting the tribal leader’s daughter, Suzie.”

“And you?”

“I’m taking care of a stubborn captain, and I hope I’ll have time to really get to know him. I’m quite fond of him and I really hope he won’t put up any other self-sacrificial shit soon.” Eddie chuckles, brushing away some hair from Steve’s face.

The door of the little shack opens quietly, but when the blond girl sees Steve’s eyes open she starts to scream.

“Steve! You’re awake! Eddie! Why didn’t you tell me he was awake!” Robin complains, running toward Steve and frantically kissing his face, “You’re a fucking moron! Never do something like that again!” She curses while she keeps kissing him, holding him tight to her chest. They have never been so physical, so Robin must have been really scared for Steve’s life.

“You ok?”

“I’m good. We are all good, and now that you woke up I’m even better,” she smiles between the tears.

Steve smiles softly, while he feels his eyes getting heavier and heavier.

“Are you feeling tired, baby?” Eddie coos softly and Steve would deny it because he would love to talk more with Eddie and Robin, but now that the pain lessened he feels too tired, “It’s ok. Rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Steve nods quietly, closing his eyes. His last thought is that even none will ever know it, their mission was a success

[marimayscarlett]

This is a FREE pass to deep dive into ANY of your favorite thing(s) about Mr. Zee Kay!!! I wanna hear EVERYTHING about your favorite thing, I love seeing your deep dives and essays on the most important subject to exist ❤️

❗ CAUTION. LONG-ISH POST AHEAD. ❗

Hi! First of all:

Kissies for you for sending me this ask, thank you so much! This has been sitting in my inbox for a while now since it took me ages to decide what this post should be about. I didn't want to make yet another fashion/stage outfit/etc post, so I decided to do something different with it.

I decided this will be a long ass post about Richard's outspokenness and honesty in interviews and some of my favourite quotes/topics he spoke about in the past. This man has A LOT to say and sometimes is brutally honest with his answers. You ask him how he's doing or what he thinks about XYZ? Prepare for a lengthy and detailed reply. You ask him something silly or boring? Be prepared he quite actually reacts quite directly on it.

This list will be sorted by three topics: 1. Quotes regarding work with Rammstein, Emigrate and in general, 2. Quotes about his personal life and finally, 3. Unhinged shit Richard says since this man sometimes has no filter.

All interviews will be linked, german quotes are translated into english. Prepare yourself, this will be long and self-indulgend and I'm probably the only person who's really interested in this stuff but i don't CARE, I love reading about and listening to this man and I'll use this post to my liking thanks to this lovely, lovely anon 💞 Let's get started 👀🤍

Richard on working with Rammstein and Emigrate and music in general

In this interview, Richard talks about being put into the right wing corner by the german media and how hard it is for him and the band: "You want to shout it out loud and convince people otherwise, only to find that nobody listens because nobody wants to know. They want you in this corner. That was very disillusioning."

Here he gives an example for his immeasurable perfectionism and how he tries to protect himself from it: "I spent a lot of time recording guitars over and over again. I ended up giving my guitar engineer the key to the locker where my guitar cabinets are and told him “Do not give me this key back”,  otherwise I would have still been in there recording guitars right now.

In the same interview, he also gives an example how the whole Mutter problem came into play: "So if I’d come up with 45 ideas, then others in the band may feel they’d have to come up with 45 ideas as well. There was lot of pressure going on within Rammstein because of that."

Here Richard talks about how he, back in the GDR days, wandered from peer group to peer group to find his style: "I've always been bored of sticking with just one group of people. The metalheads got drunk too often. So I moved on - and I found that refreshing - to the punks …" Interviewer: … who didn't drink any less. "No, exactly. And they were also dirtier (laughs). Then I was with the bluesmen, and they always went to these blues fairs. And because they also drank a lot, they could sleep well, whereas I, who didn't drink, always woke up at three in the morning because I was so cold - we only had these thin cotton sleeping bags."

Richard on the amount of hours which go in one song of his [interview]: "At some point, I calculated that it takes me about 1000 hours on average for a song to reach the listener. But I don't want to think too much about the time involved. That would just be frustrating."

On his relationship with Flake and that he would be the one member of the band Richard would play an Emigrate album as a test run to [interview]: "Although someone like Flake would probably be very open to that. We have a lot of respect for each other and are in a lively exchange. For example, I regularly listen to his radio show - and call him afterwards to ask him what weird stuff he's been saying. (laughs)"

2. Richard on his personal life

In my alltime favourite podcast with Richard, he admist to seemingly being a quite difficult person to live with (apparently, only his daughter is able to and is relaxed enough to bring him inner peace). He hates talking in the morning, needs time for himself with no talking and reflect on things and sometimes is afraid/annoyed that he has to explain himself to others (since other people tend to take offense because of this). This is one of the reasons why he definitely can't imagine living together with a girlfriend again.

Here he talks about the evolution of friendship with Till: Intervier: How has your friendship changed over more than 30 years? Richard: "Well, as it goes in life: Unfortunately, there's never a happy ending. You should only meet friends once or twice a month. It's unnatural for men to be extremely close for decades. At some point you want to be left alone." Interviewer: You two are more like colleagues these days? Richard: "Sounds stupid, but that's kind of how it is. But I still have a basic trust: If anything happens, I know I can call Till and he'll be there, just like the others."

Here Richard admits to his immense moodiness at times: "I am a very moody person, my mood sometimes changes by the hour."

Why he likes western movies so much [interview]: "It might sound strange, but I have really early childhood memories of my father watching these cowboy movies and falling asleep… that ended up being part of my upbringing somehow."

And his fond memory of the wild times with Till after the wall came down [interview]: "Because at that time, in every house there was a techno or rave party, and we would go there, and 7 in the morning, he would bring his daughter to school, and then come back and we would stay there into the daytime, and dance to these electric beats — I mean, can you imagine us dancing like that?"

How he answers to a fan question in which movie/show he'd like to be a part of (musically or in general) [article]: "I would have loved to have been in Game of Thrones. I really love fantasy worlds, you know? Also Westworld."

3. Welcome to the unhinged RZK corner aka "Shit RZK says":

In this interview, he describes his relationship with music like this: "I believe the music itself must be the king, but I want to be the queen." Alrighty then 👀

Just overall this conversation with him thinking about filming himself having sex [interview]:

The Gauntlet: Do you always have that funny smile during sex? [regarding the Pussy MV]

Richard: "I actually never watched myself but you have a point. I really should watch myself or videotape it. I never really...I can do it. I did that a long time ago but every girl is different. Do I really smile? Sometimes I guess, I will have to check that out. You really have me thinking on that one."

This man seemingly tried every therapy under the sun, which is good, but this one left me a bit speechless [interview]: "I always had the feeling that I was a king without a nation. That was always in my head and I once did reincarnation therapy and experienced this life. It was really interesting and this song came out of that [song: Born on my own].

Here he admits to throwing a guitar at Lemmy Kilmister: "It was the third time a roadie had given me an out-of-tune guitar. So I threw it at him. Unfortunately, Lemmy was standing there watching the show from the side of the stage. But I didn't know that, I just saw Lemmy disappear. That was very embarrassing for me."

Or he throws his credits cards at sales women (how about some anger management my guy): "The last time I was there [New York], I wanted to pay for a coffee in a café with a hundred dollar bill. But not because I wanted to be a big shot, but because I just had this one bill in my pocket. The sales woman hissed at me and threw the bill back over the counter. I just thought: She's out of her mind. I then threw my credit card at her. I was really angry."

If you made it to the end of this post, I really applaud you and apologize for my rambling yet again 🙏 I could go on and on (I didn't even started with quoting the video interviews), but I think since I'm the only one who's into this, I stop right here 😅 Have some smiley Richard as a reward 🍀

[yesterdayiwrote]

After reading @vro0m's post suggesting Grill the Grid should take on a Taskmaster format, please have my ‘not entirely definitive’ list of Which Taskmaster contestant the 2023 F1 grid would most be like...

Max Verstappen : Kerry Godliman - Wants to win. Doesn’t want you to know how much they want to win. Until you tell them he’s done it wrong and then he argues the rules with you incessantly. Probably loves a laminator. Bosh, done.

Sergio Perez : Paul Sinha - Should be really good at this. Is getting a bit old though and inexplicably fucking the whole thing up. Is really trying but just permanently perplexed about how this isn’t going better for them.

Charles Leclerc : Judi Love - Is trying really hard, still not quite understanding what they’re being asked to do but not wanting anyone to realise how confused they are. Most likely to ask ‘Is there a duck on my face?’

Carlos Sainz : Joe Thomas - Is also very confused, but slightly less chaotic with it, not exactly hiding how confused they are, just openly having a breakdown while their brain stops working. Liable to suddenly argue back about how unfair it is and how hard they’re trying.

Lewis Hamilton : Liza Tarbuck - Knows what they’re doing, minimal fuss, just gets on with it and ends up winning everything. Is starting to get mildly irritated you’re asking them to do it still, decreases effort throughout proceedings, yet still somehow manages to do really well

George Russell: Mel Giedroyc - George is Mel. Rushes into every task with enthusiasm. Highly competitive. Tackles every task with a cacophony of Britishisms spilling from his mouth in place of swear words to hide his frustrations, whilst simultaneously congratulating the crew on what great tasks they’ve come up with. (There is also a really strong argument for Ivo Graham here. Bringing big Eton energy but slightly more angsty about his failures)

Lando Norris : Nish Kumar - Is trying really, really hard. Is also failing really, really hard by failing to notice generally what’s going on around him.

Oscar Piastri : Richard Osman - Just getting the tasks done in a calm, sensible manner. No bells and whistles, just taking it all in his stride.

Esteban Ocon : Jessica Knappett - Goes rushing in to everything with enthusiasm and positive energy and falls face first into failure. Tall and lanky and just very happy to be here.

Pierre Gasly : Iain Stirling - Tries really hard, really wants to win, but you can’t shake the feeling that you’re watching a Love Island episode whenever you watch him attempt anything (just for wildly different reasons).

Fernando Alonso : Rhod Gilbert - Quietly confident of their own abilities. A bit of a lone wolf and hates team tasks because he just wants to win for himself. Has an uncanny knack of finding a loophole and winning tasks thanks to some dirt he has on the taskmaster from many years ago.

Lance Stroll : Paul Chowdhry - He’s not entirely sure how he’s ended up here, or what he’s supposed to do, but he’s giving it a go anyway. Appears unenthusiastic about everything but actually wants to win, just with the least possible effort he can muster.

Valtteri Bottas : Hugh Dennis - Very calm about everything, even his own failures. Actually not that worried about where he comes, just happy to be taking part. (Valtteri would actually be Fred the Swede but he’s not a contestant so he can’t be)

Zhou Guanyu : Charlotte Ritchie - Appears like they have it all together. Calm and softly spoken, yet strangely chaotic when given a task. Seems really eager to please but kind of low key stressed and anxious. (A certain element of Sophie Duker or Mawaan Rizwan entirely for the great fits though)

Yuki Tsunoda : Fern Brady - Is very stressed about everything and would very much like to go home for a big sleep because being competitive is exhausting

Daniel Ricciardo : Joe Wilkinson - Chaos. Full stop.

Nico Hulkenberg : Lee Mack - This is one of the harder ones because he could be any of the ‘uncontroversial older guy’ contestants. Went for Lee because he’d probably keep dropping dad jokes in there but not a total chaos demon. Just does…fine?

Kevin Magnussen : Ardal O’Hanlon - Similar to what I wrote for Nico but with a bit more chaos and confusion thrown in, but just politely smiling his way through it. (See also Alan Davies)

Alex Albon : James Acaster - Has a severe dislike for whoever organised this, would quite like it to be over. Would also like to win. Doesn’t want to look desperate with it but is actually trying very hard. Is very angry that he’s not winning and ends up ranting about how unfair it is to hide his disappointment.

Logan Sargeant : Desiree Burch - American. (Look, I ran out of ideas for Logan I will admit)

[virgilthepoet1029]

“Hey Virgil what’s your favorite poem”

I’m so glad you asked.

“Editor’s Page; The Long and Short of It” by Richard Siken.

The line this poem is most well known for is the famous “Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.” And while this is an absolutely beautiful line, the poem is so much more than that.

It’s not even a poem per se. From what I’ve gathered it’s an editor’s page at the beginning of his poetry book. It’s a page of him. Talking directly to someone. Talking about how he writes, and publishes it, knowing (hoping) that that one specific person is reading it. It’s a full page saying “You. You who I no longer know. I wrote this for you.”

“Of all the people reading this, are you one of them? I have to believe you are. Sure, we invent each other. We agreed to that a long time ago. Train and trainstation, force and field. We do what we do and what I do is put the pies on the windowsill.

        So here you are, reading this, expecting something. A story perhaps, or someone singing themselves to sleep. You’re ready and I’m ready too. Have you been waiting long?”

I love. Love the fact. That it’s these two writers, writing and publishing their work to the world. But they know. They both know each piece is about the other.

“you are my nomad and I love you sideways daily. Sideways because I have to beam my love in all directions, hoping it bounces off something and eventually finds you.”

Something something we no longer talk, so we talk in the only way we can.

And I hate that it calls me out so hard. The idea of it. Of “I put this out here, knowing you will see it. I hope you see it.”

And he says “Here is a place for it to happen. A place where I can love you.”

Here is a space, where I can be true, and open, and honest about how I feel. And the truth is I do not hate you.

And I think that is why I love this piece so much.

I do not love them anymore, I haven’t for many years now. But it would be a lie to say I do not feel some soft way towards them. Not romantic. More like, the edges of my anger and the distance towards you are soft. Maybe it’s the rose tinted glasses of nostalgia, the grass is always greener. Maybe as I grow I forgive more. Maybe my memory fails and I forget the bad more. But whatever it is. I have no place I can say this. No place where I can speak kindly of them. Where I can miss them. Grieve them. They would judge, be angry. (I would be too. Why do you still grieve over 2 years later? I do not know. Why do you miss what burned you? I do not know.) That is why I made this account in the first place. So I would have somewhere where I could openly grieve them. And miss them. And not be judged. That’s why only one person who knows me irl follows me (He knows. I like to think he understands. Please do not see me differently when you read this. Please do not be disappointed.)

So here I stand. Sending my own waves across the ocean. Hoping they will pick them up, and read verse after verse of “I do not hate you. Do you know that? Please do not believe I hate you.”

“I could pretend I’m speaking to everyone—assume a middle distance and transcend myself—but I’m taking to you and you know it.”

Do you hear that? I’m talking to you.

[mistresskayla-blog1]

Considering Chimera

Lyn's Writing Event Day 4

May 4th : Week 1: Chimera   18+

In Chimera legend, “an illusion of the mind; especially an unrealized dream”

Characters: Dr Scott White x OC Jennifer Turner

Fandom: Richard Armitage – Sleepwalker

Warnings: disabled person, angst, paralysis, mind control, somatization, dream control, stalking.

Word count: 1.5k (part 1)

It started one day, Scott was crashing hard after work in the morning and sleeping so hard he woke up disoriented and sweaty. He didn’t normally lose his control over his own mind, but the women in his dreams was getting stronger. He used to just see flashes in his dreams, a blonde smiling, a touch of her hand on his arm, a fantastical story that his mind followed like a movie you couldn’t look away from. But each night, it was more and more, and he had no idea who this woman was. Her face was etched in his mind, and he could draw her if he had that talent.

Scott sat up in bed midday and wiped his face with his hand, slow, the stubble of his beard growing out and soft. He looked at his watch, “2 pm, ok. Well maybe I’ll go for a run or something”, he said to the room, chuckling, “I wonder if I have seen this woman out and I just never put two and two together,” he got up and started the shower, letting the heat of the water revive his sensations and wake up to the present moment. Scott dried off, and got dressed, putting on his running shoes and setting a playlist for a run. He left his apartment, and started jogging almost immediately, heading for the hills about a mile away. If he sweat enough, Scott thought, ‘Maybe I can sweat this woman out of my mind’.

---

              You had seen him one day out on the trail and were enthralled by his height, build and endurance. You made a wish to yourself that you would find a way to get to him. But how, do you get someone you cannot meet to speak to you?  You were stuck in this wheelchair, watching the beautiful landscape outside. Wanting to be free, wanting to be healed, but knowing there was nothing you could do about your fate. Mark had made his claim to you with his attack, and you were a “saint” everyone said to pull through and heal as much as you had. But you were still paralyzed, and that isn’t something you can wake up from. So you chose to spend a lot of time, voraciously reading, and fantasizing, and writing and finding out how the mind can heal the body, and how the mind can maybe talk to other minds? It sounded crazy right? But maybe you were just clever and focused enough to do it. Maybe we really could create illusions and create worlds in other’s minds, just as easily as we could our own. Isn’t that what movies do for us, give us that stimuli of an accepted human experience?

              Jennifer put her journal down and sipped some water from her seating area. Her apartment overlooked the park, and she got to see all the runners’ jog by her several times a day. Today was a particularly breezy and warm Californian afternoon and her aid, Nancy had opened her windows so the spring breeze and blossom filled scent just filled her space with promise. Jenn missed running, she missed the feel of the wind on her skin, the sweat and high that came from pushing that extra half mile or so. She had made it through several marathons, but it only took one asshole one day to destroy her life.

---

              Jennifer saw him again, huffing and puffing around the bend in the trail, sweat seeping through his t-shirt, his legs long as he took giant strides, his feet hitting the pavement in that rhythmic way. She closed her eyes and focused, smiling as she saw his face in her mind’s eye. Scott felt a tingle in his temple and shook it off, toppling over a hedge and crashing into a flower bed. A woman walking a dog, stopped to check on him, and Jennifer opened her eyes to see him collect himself off the ground embarrassed. He looked up towards Jennifer’s building and Jennifer scooted her seat closer to the window, looking down, “Please see me please see me,” She said out loud. Scott caught his breath and rubbed his sweaty brow with his even sweatier arm.  The sun was still cresting and mirroring the glass fronted building across from the park, but he still felt a sensation to look up. He squinted, and when a cloud came to block the sun a moment, he saw two flashing eyes looking down at him from the, “2, 3, 4, 5” Scott counted out loud, “5th floor,” he looked back down to the door manned building and crossed the street to it.

Jennifer’s eyes grew wide, “Oh shit!” she blurted. Nancy came in from the kitchen, “DO you need something, love?” Nancy’s Irish lilt always snapped Jennifer back from her revelry. Jennifer turned to her, “Hey, actually I may have a visitor soon, could you, um.. help me get back to living room?” Nancy smiled, “Of course, let’s get your chair”. Nancy went towards the wheelchair in the corner, and placed the lift assist board under Jennifer’s butt, carefully transferring her to the chair. Jennifer placed her arms around Nancy’s neck for help, Jennifer still had her upper body support, but her legs were now for show. Her team said, she may recover some more, over time, but she had to do her exercises. She had to follow through and want to heal, and until she met, well, until she saw her running man, she didn’t have a reason to.

---

              Scott approached a burly looking man in a red uniformed suit at the building marked with a large metallic 724 above the overhang entranceway. The doorman was posted and smiled at him warmly. “Hello sir, how can I assist you?”  Scott paused, “Hey, I was wondering if I could see the woman on the 5th floor please?” The doorman looked at him, “Do you have a name, Sir?” Scott blew out a breath, “No, not exactly. Sorry” chuckles. “Well I can’t just let you in,” the doorman’s phone buzzed, “excuse me, a second,” Scott was wiping his face off again, with his short sleeve and whipping the sweat out of his hair, “Of course, sure”. The doorman returned, “She will see you now, its 514, Ms. Turner”. Scott blazed a smile again, “Thanks”, the doorman cleared his throat, “You might take care, she is a very sweet girl, and if I were you I would come back after you’ve cleaned yourself up”. Scott paused, looking at him seriously, then looking down at himself. Scott turned on his heel and left the building, “You know what, your right, thank you. What was your name?” “Burt, sir. Glad I could help”.  He nodded. Scott nodded back in respect and crossed the street again heading back for his apartment.

Jennifer was nervous, if she could pace she would, so instead she wore a hole in the floor with her eyes, and wrung her hands on a rag, like those dames used to do during the war. “Where is he, Burt would have let him up by now,” She called back down to Burt, “Burt? Did you send him up?” Burt cleared his throat, “Ms. Turner, I told him to come back more presentable, and he agreed”. Jennifer rolled her eyes, and tried to sound appreciative, “That’s very sweet of you, Burt, you didn’t have to do that. I just wanted to speak with him is all”.  Burt, paused, “Ms. Turner, I just want you to know that it is my job to maintain the safety of all the residents here”.

Jennifer cut in, “I know, but I don’t think he is a threat”.  “We do not know that yet Ms. Turner, I just think it doesn’t hurt to wait it out”. Jennifer sighed, “Well I certainly have time, don’t I, Burt”. Burt grimaced audibly, “I’m sorry Ms. Turner I did not mean anything by it, I’m sorry”. Jennifer’s heart smoothed, “Thank you Burt for looking after me, I appreciate it”. “Of course” Burt said and then hung up. Nancy looked at Jennifer inquisitive, “He’s not coming up then?” She shook her head, “That Burt is a good soul though, really looks after you” Jennifer shook her head, “He’s just a sweet old man, there’s nothing to worry about”. Nancy chuckled, “Well he doesn’t turn his head for me, fray and I talk him up an awful lot when I go out”. Jennifer giggled, “You have a thing for Burt, do you?” Nancy smiled, “Oh my yes, he’s so plump and sweet, I could eat him up, but I won’t” She giggled too. Nancy went back to her duties, and Jennifer rolled herself back to the window. She knew she wouldn’t see him, but now that he knew where she lived, it was only a matter of time before he came back to her.

(more to come… stay tuned)

@legolasbadass @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @linasofia @riepu10 @scariusaquarius @lathalea

#Lyn's writing Event

[mikelogan]

maybe i'll do them in the order of the results for funsies

synopses below the cut:

i am legend

Robert Neville is the last living man on Earth...but he is not alone. Every other man, woman, and child on Earth has become a vampire, and they are all hungry for Neville's blood. By day, he is the hunter, stalking the sleeping undead through the abandoned ruins of civilization. By night, he barricades himself in his home and prays for dawn. How long can one man survive in a world of vampires?

the black phone

Jack Finney is thirteen, alone, and in desperate trouble. For two years now, someone has been stalking the boys of Galesberg, stealing them away, never to be seen again. And now, Finney finds himself in danger of joining them: locked in a psychopath's basement, a place stained with the blood of half a dozen murdered children. With him in his subterranean cell is an antique phone, long since disconnected . . . but it rings at night anyway, with calls from the killer's previous victims. And they are dead set on making sure that what happened to them doesn't happen to Finney.

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo

In this entrancing novel "that speaks to the Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor in us all" (Kirkus Reviews), a legendary film actress reflects on her relentless rise to the top and the risks she took, the loves she lost, and the long-held secrets the public could never imagine. Aging and reclusive Hollywood movie icon Evelyn Hugo is finally ready to tell the truth about her glamorous and scandalous life. But when she chooses unknown magazine reporter Monique Grant for the job, no one is more astounded than Monique herself. Why her? Why now? Monique is not exactly on top of the world. Her husband has left her, and her professional life is going nowhere. Regardless of why Evelyn has selected her to write her biography, Monique is determined to use this opportunity to jumpstart her career. Summoned to Evelyn's luxurious apartment, Monique listens in fascination as the actress tells her story. From making her way to Los Angeles in the 1950s to her decision to leave show business in the '80s, and, of course, the seven husbands along the way, Evelyn unspools a tale of ruthless ambition, unexpected friendship, and a great forbidden love. Monique begins to feel a very real connection to the legendary star, but as Evelyn's story near its conclusion, it becomes clear that her life intersects with Monique's own in tragic and irreversible ways.

and then i woke up

In a world reeling from an unusual plague, monsters lurk in the streets while terrified survivors arm themselves and roam the countryside in packs. Or perhaps something very different is happening. When a disease affects how reality is perceived, it’s hard to be certain of anything… Spence is one of the “cured” living at the Ironside rehabilitation facility. Haunted by guilt, he refuses to face the changed world until a new inmate challenges him to help her find her old crew. But if he can’t tell the truth from the lies, how will he know if he has earned the redemption he dreams of? How will he know he hasn’t just made things worse?

exit west

In a country teetering on the brink of civil war, two young people meet--sensual, fiercely independent Nadia and gentle, restrained Saeed. They embark on a furtive love affair, and are soon cloistered in a premature intimacy by the unrest roiling their city. When it explodes, turning familiar streets into a patchwork of checkpoints and bomb blasts, they begin to hear whispers about doors--doors that can whisk people far away, if perilously and for a price. As the violence escalates, Nadia and Saeed decide that they no longer have a choice. Leaving their homeland and their old lives behind, they find a door and step through. . . . Exit West follows these remarkable characters as they emerge into an alien and uncertain future, struggling to hold on to each other, to their past, to the very sense of who they are. Profoundly intimate and powerfully inventive, it tells an unforgettable story of love, loyalty, and courage that is both completely of our time and for all time.

a certain hunger

Food critic Dorothy Daniels loves what she does. Discerning, meticulous, and very, very smart, Dorothy's clear mastery of the culinary arts make it likely that she could, on any given night, whip up a more inspired dish than any one of the chefs she writes about. Dorothy loves sex as much as she loves food, and while she has struggled to find a long-term partner that can keep up with her, she makes the best of her single life, frequently traveling from Manhattan to Italy for a taste of both. But there is something within Dorothy that's different from everyone else, and having suppressed it long enough, she starts to embrace what makes Dorothy uniquely, terrifyingly herself. Recounting her life from a seemingly idyllic farm-to-table childhood, the heights of her career, to the moment she plunges an ice pick into a man's neck on Fire Island, Dorothy Daniels show us what happens when a woman finally embraces her superiority.

just for the summer

Justin has a curse, and thanks to a Reddit thread, it's now all over the internet. Every woman he dates goes on to find their soul mate the second they break up. When a woman slides into his DMs with the same problem, they come up with a plan: They'll date each other and break up. Their curses will cancel each other’s out, and they’ll both go on to find the love of their lives. It’s a bonkers idea… and it just might work. Emma hadn't planned that her next assignment as a traveling nurse would be in Minnesota, but she and her best friend agree that dating Justin is too good of an opportunity to pass up, especially when they get to rent an adorable cottage on a private island on Lake Minnetonka. It's supposed to be a quick fling, just for the summer. But when Emma's toxic mother shows up and Justin has to assume guardianship of his three siblings, they're suddenly navigating a lot more than they expected–including catching real feelings for each other. What if this time Fate has actually brought the perfect pair together?

you like it darker

“You like it darker? Fine, so do I,” writes Stephen King in the afterword to this magnificent new collection of twelve stories that delve into the darker part of life—both metaphorical and literal. King has, for half a century, been a master of the form, and these stories, about fate, mortality, luck, and the folds in reality where anything can happen, are as rich and riveting as his novels, both weighty in theme and a huge pleasure to read. King writes to feel “the exhilaration of leaving ordinary day-to-day life behind,” and in You Like It Darker, readers will feel that exhilaration too, again and again. “Two Talented Bastids” explores the long-hidden secret of how the eponymous gentlemen got their skills. In “Danny Coughlin’s Bad Dream,” a brief and unprecedented psychic flash upends dozens of lives, Danny’s most catastrophically. In “Rattlesnakes,” a sequel to Cujo, a grieving widower travels to Florida for respite and instead receives an unexpected inheritance—with major strings attached. In “The Dreamers,” a taciturn Vietnam vet answers a job ad and learns that there are some corners of the universe best left unexplored. “The Answer Man” asks if prescience is good luck or bad and reminds us that a life marked by unbearable tragedy can still be meaningful.

a death in door county

Morgan Carter, owner of the Odds and Ends bookstore in Door County, Wisconsin, has a hobby. When she’s not tending the store, she’s hunting cryptids—creatures whose existence is rumored, but never proven to be real. It’s a hobby that cost her parents their lives, but one she’ll never give up on. So when a number of bodies turn up on the shores of Lake Michigan with injuries that look like bites from a giant unknown animal, police chief Jon Flanders turns to Morgan for help. A skeptic at heart, Morgan can’t turn down the opportunity to find proof of an entity whose existence she can’t definitively rule out. She and her beloved rescue dog, Newt, journey to the Death's Door strait to hunt for a homicidal monster in the lake—but if they’re not careful, they just might be its next victims.

disturbance

As the sun sets on a feverishly hot July evening, a young woman spies on her teenage neighbor, transfixed by what looks like an occult ritual intended to banish an ex-boyfriend. Alone in a new town and desperate to expel the claustrophobic memories of her own ex that have followed, the narrator decides to try to hex herself free from her past. She falls in with the neighbor and her witchy friend, exploring nascent supernatural powers as the boundaries of reality shift in and out of focus. But when the creaks and hums of her apartment escalate into something more violent, she realizes that she may have brought her boyfriend’s presence—whether psychological or paranormal—back to haunt her.

the bell jar

Esther Greenwood is brilliant, beautiful, enormously talented, and successful, but slowly going under—maybe for the last time. In her acclaimed and enduring masterwork, Sylvia Plath brilliantly draws the reader into Esther's breakdown with such intensity that her insanity becomes palpably real, even rational—as accessible an experience as going to the movies. A deep penetration into the darkest and most harrowing corners of the human psyche, The Bell Jar is an extraordinary accomplishment and a haunting American classic.

city on fire

New York City, 1976. Meet Regan and William Hamilton-Sweeney, estranged heirs to one of the city's great fortunes; Keith and Mercer, the men who, for better or worse, love them; Charlie and Samantha, two suburban teenagers seduced by downtown's punk scene; an obsessive magazine reporter, Richard, and his idealistic neighbor, Jenny, - and the detective trying to figure out what any of them have to do with a shooting in Central Park on New Year's Eve. The mystery, as it reverberates through families, friendships, and the corridors of power, will open up even the loneliest-seeming corners of the crowded city. And when the blackout of July 13, 1977, plunges this world into darkness, each of these lives with be changed forever.

[finerllines]

love, harry [bestfriend!h au]

a/n: hello everyone i hope yall are still here and reading!! im so sorry it took so long i had a major slump for a couple of months but now im back and im so excited to wrap up charlie and harry's story. thank you for reading!! please give me feedback, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed <3

summary: harry needs his best friend back and he will do anything to get her to love him back

wc: 11k+

tw: none :-)

prev part

///

One of the main occupational hazards of being a touring musician is missing things. Eventually, people learn to stop sending invitations. Just as well, it gets harder and harder to find new ways to say ‘sorry, I’ve got work’. When most of the people you grew up with have moved out of your small town, onto bigger and better things, home just becomes wherever you manage to stay for more than a month.

And that’s fine. That’s all Harry can really remember. Life became a matter of watching everyone else’s from a distance. Everyone’s except one.

Charlie.

Instead of Instagram stories and posts, it was personal photos and little vlogs about her day sent straight to him, for his eyes only. He doesn’t know what he did to earn her trust and love, but he has never taken it for granted. Somehow, she was never deterred by his lack of attendance, congratulatory texts and video calls thankfully being enough. Or it was enough, until she got pregnant.

He had worked so hard to show her it’s okay to open up and let people in again, and he went and pissed it all away. But he is determined to not let her shut him out again. Which is why he’s back at her front door, on four hours of sleep, still exhausted from the show the night before.

Nothing brings you back down to earth like standing in front of a door after performing in front of five thousand people, hands filled with grovelling supplies, shaking as it raises to knock.

Despite the many women he’s dated, grovelling is new to him. He likes to think he’s a pretty good boyfriend - he’s attentive, patient, and thoughtful. But by the time they get to the point where he would need to grovel, he normally already has one foot out the door, so instead of trying to make amends he accepts their fate and ends things. Cruel? Sure. But it’s the truth. He’s never really loved or cared about anyone enough to want to make the extra effort.

Except Charlie. And Charlie has never been mad at him.

Until now. Justifiably so.

It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to have this conversation, it’s all he’s wanted to do since their call, he just doesn’t know where to start.

Should he bring up the pure rage he felt when he saw the pictures of them and Richard? Or is that something he should save for later, after he has figured all of that out himself? He’s a jealous guy, everyone knows that, but he’s never felt jealousy so ugly and intense like that before, it felt so primitive and guttural; the near uncontrollable urge to remind Richard, and everyone, that Charlie does not belong to him. Problem is, Charlie doesn’t belong to him either. And neither does Rory. Less so now than ever.

He used to think he feels so strongly about her because she is a piece of his childhood, a piece of the Harry he used to be. Now, these feelings are undeniably romantic. None of her previous partners ever felt like a real threat because he was always confident that their history and the connection is stronger than anything these men would have to offer her. Then Richard made a baby with her. Talk about a connection.

Those weeks spent with Rory and Charlie were bliss. There hasn’t been a day spent without thinking about how they were doing since: whether Rory ate all her breakfast, or whether Charlie found the time to watch an episode of Taskmaster with a glass of wine. And when the domestic got too emotional for him, he would start to wonder what her skin would feel like if he ran his hand under her shirt, or what sounds she would make if he nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck, peppering it with soft kisses and licks.

But none of that is as important as their friendship. So, until he figures out all of that out for himself, he needs to focus on apologising and begging for forgiveness.

Taking a deep breath, he wipes his palms on his thighs before knocking the door. While waiting, he talks himself through more deep breaths. It’s a good thing he did because when the door gets pulled open his breath hitches a little.

Finally seeing the person you’ve been missing and thinking about is almost life giving. Charlie is stunning, even in an old robe and a braid that looks like it was slept in.

“Harry, hi.”

He had been mentally bracing himself for iciness in her voice. Instead, all he hears is wariness, and half of her body remains hidden behind the door

Charlie is wary of him. Shit.

“Um, H?” she asks when he doesn’t respond.

“Hi,” he raises a hand as a greeting on instinct, forgetting that he’s holding a bouquet of flowers. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She replies as if it’s ridiculous that he has to ask, but she can't see how guarded she looks right now.

A wave of déjà vu hits. The uncertainty and ball of emotion in his belly reminds Harry of the day he came to confront Charlie about having a baby.

She walks in front of him guiding him to the kitchen.

“Rory’s just eaten breakfast, I’m getting started on mine. You can join me if you’d like.”

In the kitchen playing with a hand towel is the most cheerful baby. The smile that emerges on his face is instinctive, and it’s fortunately shared by Rory. He’s not sure if it’s wishful thinking but he thinks he sees her eyes light up with recognition. He wants to pick her up and cuddle her close, for his own comfort more than anything, but he reminds himself of the agenda and redirects his attention to his best friend.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen, kind of stupidly, he thrusts his hands forward, like a young boy presenting a gift to his crush for the first time.

“For you.”

Her brows quirk up. “For me?”

He nods. ���Who else?”

“I don’t know, thought you might be just making a pit stop.” She takes the bouquet first, taking the time to admire the assortment of flowers. “Thank you. These are beautiful.”

After getting it situated in an old jar from under the sink she takes the small gift bag. Setting it on the kitchen counter, she starts to pull things out.

“Is this …” she trails off as she studies the items on the counter.

“It’s the special knife spoon thing you talked about. The one that is designed to get all the peanut butter out the jar. And I got you another set of those small and long wooden spoons.”

She doesn't say anything for a moment and continues staring at his offerings.

While scratching the nape of his neck he says, “Sorry, it was hard to find an apology gift that is meaningful and yet wouldn’t make you mad because I spent a shitload of money on it. I’ll get you a proper gift soon but I didn’t have too much time because of, you know, the –“

“Harry,” she cuts him off firmly, “I love it, thank you. It means a lot, really.” Stepping forward, she wraps her arms around him, squeezing tightly, cheek pressed comfortably against his body.

His heart tightens in his chest. He’s missed this. He was afraid he might never experience this again.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I feel like all I’ve done since coming back is apologise but I need you to forgive me one more time, please. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. You know that, right? I … I was just irrationally jealous and hurt that I wanted to hurt you too. It’s fucked up, but it’s the truth. You’ll only get the truth from now on. I promise. Please believe me.”

How can she not believe him?

The extra precautions taken to keep her anonymity as much as possible while also making sure she could be as involved in his life as she wants. Years of texts, calls, and everything in between where they exposed their truest selves to each other without fear of judgement. Even the way he is holding her now, breath racing in and out, like he might break down if she doesn’t believe him.

“H, I believe you. The things you said … they were fucked. But I can’t stay mad at you, even if I tried.”

Shaking his head, he mumbles into her hair, “Thank you. Thank you. You’re too good for me. You shouldn’t make it so easy for a guy, you deserve grovelling. And I will, I’m not done making it up to you.”

They both hug each other tighter, gripping the fabric on each other’s backs.

“I don’t need grovelling; you’ve already done so much. Besides, you bought me my first bouquet of flowers in like four years and you got me presents that tell me you pay attention to me. I rambled to you about loving small spoons with long handles and how much I hate not being able to clean out the peanut butter jar ages ago, and somehow you were actually listening and remembered.”

“That wanker never got you flowers?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, too practical for that. And for small spoons too.” She coughs to clear her throat. “Also, you’re allowed to curse him you. You were right.”

“About what?” Harry asks.

She makes no effort to explain, simply shrugging her shoulders in faux nonchalance. There’s a brief silence once again, then, a chill shoots up his spine. He places his hands on her forearms and pushes her far back enough to be able to see her face.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Not now, please. Can we talk about it later? I missed you and I don’t want to think about him.”

Of course. He never wants to think about Richard more than necessary anyways.

“Okay, I don’t want him ruining our time together. I want to spend time with my best girls.”

-

Harry ended up staying the night.

He woke up with Charlie’s head tucked under his, and her knees curled into herself on his lap. Despite the kink in his neck and the knot between his shoulders, he can’t bring himself to separate from her. The heat emanating from her body warms him in a way that soothes him. Their bodies haven’t been this close in forever, not since they were children and had sleepovers in the backyard where they always somehow woke up curled into each other.  

Growing up together meant going through that awkward stage of being afraid to get too touchy with each other, and by the time they moved past that, they had both started developing real crushes and entering relationships with other people. Harry thought they were pretty affectionate for platonic friends anyways, but the way they’re intertwined now makes him realise that they can be so much closer, so, so much closer.

Charlie’s face is right there. He can see every crevice, bump, and wrinkle on her skin. His eyes can’t help but trace every feature - round her eyes, down the slope of her nose, and across her lips. He can’t pull his eyes away from her lips. They sit together so perfectly, in the perfect pout, begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed. Begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed by him specifically.

He doesn’t notice his face inching towards hers until their noses brush, causing her to tense in his arms. Harry freezes, watching tentatively as her lips purse and eyes squeeze tightly together.

“Uhhmm?” she groans.

Harry slowly moves his hand up and down Charlie’s back hoping to ground her as she slowly wakes up.

“It’s me, darling. Harry.”

“Hmm? H?”

She’s so precious. Harry feels like his heart might burst from how hard it’s beating.

“I’m right here. Good morning.”

With a big huff, her eyes blink open. Her forehead is pinched with confusion as she takes in her surroundings. Slowly pulling her arm from under his body, she reaches up and places her hand on Harry’s face, patting his cheek a couple of times as if trying to make sure he's really there.

With a little chuckle, he covers her hand with his, holding it in place on his cheek. Tilting his head slightly, he presses a small kiss to her palm. “Darling, I’m here. I came over yesterday and we fell asleep on the couch. Remember?”

Satisfied with his explanation, Charlie lets her body go lax against his.

Harry can’t help but smile at the way she trusts him, even half asleep.

Despite being forgiven almost immediately, there’s still a sense of uneasiness that he cannot shake. All of that is in his head though because Charlie has done nothing to make him feel uncertain. The looks, touches, and words they shared yesterday can only be described as tender, both of them obviously still emotionally fragile.

Richard’s fuck up is still unknown to Harry. He doesn’t care though. Not right now anyways. He got to kiss Rory’s cheeks until she erupted into excited giggles and watch as her gorgeous eyes slowly fluttered shut as she fell asleep in his rocking arms. Then, a tired but smiley Charlie tucked herself against him as they watched tv and talked about life with their heads pressed together.

But the feel good atmosphere of yesterday has dissipated, both of them forced to return to reality under the morning sunlight.

A strong vibration bursts their bubble.

When Charlie tries to peel herself from Harry, his arm quickly circles her waist to keep her close to him as he leans to grab his phone on the coffee table.

“Hello?” his voice is gruff from sleep. “I know … I’ll be there on time. I said I’ll be there … yes I know what I’m doing. Okay, bye.”

Talk about returning to reality.

“You need to go,” she says, not asks.

He nods. “I uh, didn’t get in my car to London this morning so they’re just wondering where I am. I have a show there tonight.”

Right. Harry just kicked off his new tour and suddenly appeared at her door after the first show.

The air around them is still as the two friends try to make sense of all that’s happened.

“Of course, you’re an important man.”

“Not too important for you and Rory.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk, like properly, last night, but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’m glad you came, H, and Rory was thrilled to see you. She missed you, a lot. I’ve played your album so much she recognises your voice.”

Harry’s eyes pretty much glaze over at the thought. “Thank you for letting be in her life”

Charlie shakes her head and grabs his hands that have started to tremble. “You don’t need to thank me. I can't imagine you not being in her life. We’re Harry and Charlie, so I'm stuck with you.”

“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, “And we’re Harry, Charlie, and Rory.”

He has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from saying everything he wants to say. With the last bit of self-control left in his body, he rests his forehead against hers as they lock eyes.

Then, a loud buzzing emanates from the coffee table again. With a frustrated huff, his eyes shut.

“Hey,” she squeezes his hand, “your fans need you.”

They emerge from their little cocoon on the sofa in silence, moving wordlessly in sync as Harry pays Rory one last visit, then leaves for London after a tight hug from his best friend.

As Charlie shuts the door behind her, she can’t help but feel that her living room now feels a little empty. All that’s left is the weight of everything left unsaid between them lingering in the air.

-

Better Homes and Gardens Exclusive: Harry Styles Shares the Meaning Behind His New Album, 'Harry's House'

Pop music’s most sought after man has a new album coming out and the world is excited. This new release comes from a relatively quiet quarantine period from Styles. He was set to kick off his world tour for his last album, Fine Line, when travel and group restrictions worldwide were announced, and his world went quiet all of a sudden.

His new album showcases an unexpected domestic side to his glistening life. Themes of family, belonging, and domestic bliss shine through so evidently that I can’t help but wonder if all of this is hypothetical or anecdotal.

I bite the bullet and ask. Before I get an answer, he lets out a small laugh, as if he has been expecting it.

“It’s definitely not an autobiography but all the songs come from a very real place in my life. The best thing about writing from real life is that as time passes my relationship with these songs change. Even from when I wrote them up to now, some of these songs listen completely different.”

I ask if that is good or bad. “Depends”, he says after ruminating to himself, “it depends on whether there are any fresh wounds.” Right now, he confesses, some wounds are pretty fresh. “Some are hard to listen to and I’m a little nervous to sing them if I’m honest.”

His earnestness is hard to miss – it shines through in his eyes and his voice. Tucked away in our little corner of the coffeeshop, I can’t help but feel like my high school crush has somehow decided to confide in me and unveil what’s beneath the good looks and charm. I feel almost privileged to be the chosen one, entrusted with his sincerity and vulnerability.

There is nothing manmade or artificial about this man – at least not when it comes to his music. He speaks about each song with so much passion, excitement, and on a couple of occasions, uncertainty. That took me by surprise. He has learnt to let go of needing to be well liked by every listener, he tells me proudly, but the need to impress those he loves will forever be there. Whether that is a strength or a weakness he has yet to figure out.

“That need is almost stronger now. Sometimes songs become a kind of coded message for those who know what I’m singing about. And it’s scary, waiting for a reaction or some approval,” he confesses.

“I spent so much time at home this past year, but I felt like my actual home is someplace else, somewhere that I couldn’t be at that moment in time.  Allowing myself to feel everything that I felt and reflect on why I’m feeling these things helped me make sense of all of that. Now I know where my home is, or at least I know where to go to find it.”

From the way he speaks I get the impression that he needs this album to be heard by some people. Not everyone, but a select few. Even though these songs weren’t necessarily written for me, I can’t help but feel excited to enter Harry’s House.

-

Charlie misses Harry. Like really misses Harry. Getting that little taste of him unlocked the door of longing deep within her and now it won’t shut. Like when you skip lunch then eat a cracker a couple hours later, unleashing a wave of insatiable hunger that can only be made quiet by eating until you cannot breathe anymore.

Basically, she needs so much of Harry until she cannot breathe. Until all she can think about is him.

Something changed. The moment she shut the door behind him that fateful morning, it was like a switch flipped and all she could do from then on is think about him. She’s missed him before, of course, but she’s never quite like this.

She can’t remember if anyone has ever looked at her so tenderly before. Harry’s definitely the most attentive man she’s ever met. Maybe it’s because she has the shitshow of a conversation with Richard to compare it to, but Harry said sorry, and for some reason that was more than enough for her.

Is she an idiot for choosing to believe a man’s words after just being lied to by another? Perhaps. Unfortunately, there is nothing she can do about it. Everything in her wants Harry.

The only contact she’s had with him since he left is a couple of texts. They’ve been casual, nothing too serious – he likes to have serious conversations in person – but enough to let her know that he’s still thinking about her.

“What do you think Rory? You’re a smart girl, right? You latched onto Harry but didn’t really want to play along with Richard, so what gave it away huh? Why didn’t you tell your mummy?”

The dangerous thing about getting too attached to Harry – that is, getting attached in a non-platonic way or in a father-figure to Rory kind of way – is that she’ll grow too dependent on him for assurance. Hearing him tell her that she is a good mother affected her more than she would like to admit. His words already hold too much weight, it would not be smart to give him more authority.

If the Richard catastrophe had to have a silver lining, it made Charlie realise that she needs to get her shit together and live up to the whole ‘strong, independent woman’ thing. She went from being satisfied in her own little world where all that mattered was her and her daughter, to feeling like Rory needed Richard’s love to be complete, as if her as a mother was not enough.

So, as much as her heart hates that Harry’s not here, her brain knows it’s for the best. She hasn’t had a moment like this in a while. Just her and her daughter having a quiet moment together. Sometimes she thinks it’s weird that she's a grown adult with a very adult job with very adult responsibilities, but she speaks to her year old daughter as if she’s a colleague, full sentences and everything.

“You like Harry, huh. What’d you think you’ll call him when you can speak? Uncle Harry? Or just Harry maybe. If you come up with some sort of cute nickname for him, he’ll love it.”

Rory looks up at her with a toy truck in her mouth, drool basically dripping off the toy.

Reaching for a tissue, Charlie sighs with amusement. “You’re just an angel aren’t you.”

-

It’s about two months later that Charlie and Harry reunite in person. He carved out a free couple of weeks and invited Charlie and Rory down to his flat in London for a ‘sleepover’, as he so put it.

Everything is sorted out for the both of you to stay over. The cot I ordered for Rory has already arrived so you can’t say no. xx

He greets them in the underground carpark. Charlie first sees him when the car he chartered pulls up in front of the lift lobby. With hands clasped behind his back, he has his eyes glued to the entrance, a smile breaking out on his face when he spots them.

After opening the door for them, his hands reconvene behind his back. She can tell they are tightly clenched from the way his forearms flex.

“Hi,” he says, voice a little tentative. He still doesn’t make a move to touch her.

“Hi,” she replies.

She can tell Harry is itching to do something - hug her or kiss her on the cheek - literally anything. His self-restraint is impressive, but she decides to put him out of his misery.

“Can you help bring Rory up please? I’ve got my hands full with the bags.”

He’s nodding instantly. The moment Charlie moves away from the door he’s swooping in to unbuckle the little girl gleefully.

“Hi my little monkey. C’mere.” His voice is soft and intimate.

Harry carries Rory on his front in the baby byon on the lift ride up. Charlie can’t pull her eyes away from their reflection in the mirror the entire time, and Harry can’t pull his eyes from Rory, who is taking in the new surroundings with curious eyes, swinging her chubby little legs back and forth.

Charlie wants to tattoo this image onto the inside of her brain.

It’s almost frightening how easily they slip back into their domestic routine. Apart from the slight tentativeness in their actions, they move around the space with complete familiarity. Before he puts Rory down, he makes sure to look at Charlie for approval first, and when she starts exploring his living room on wobbly steps, he makes sure to trail behind her, ready to grab her if she tries to walk into furniture.

He’s not sure if it’s all in his head, but Rory seems to have become a toddler in his short absence, which makes his heart ache a little. His desire to be there to witness Rory growing up probably crosses some sort of line, especially since Charlie made it clear that he is not a part of their family, however, out of all the inappropriate thoughts he has about Charlie, this one about watching Rory grow up is definitely the tamest.

“She’s basically a teenager now,” he jokes, successfully eliciting a giggle from Charlie.

With a prideful smile, she says, “She’s definitely a smart girl. There’s a song of yours she can recognise. When it plays it public she’ll give me a cheeky look and do a little dance.”

Harry’s head whips around to face her. “Really?”

She nods.

“What song? Do you have a video?”

Her face falters a little. “I don’t have any videos, sorry. It was mainly when we … you know.”

“Oh, right. It’s a new one then.” She nods again. “Thank you for letting me still be part of her life, even though we were –“

“- yeah.” They standing silence watching the exploring baby. “Like I said, I can’t hate you. And I would never make my daughter hate you too.”

He coughs to clear his throat. “What if … what if I want more?”

“More? Well, you’re her godfather, her only godfather, that hasn’t changed. And now that she … now that the father figure role is vacant again, you have her all to yourself.”

“Actually, I meant … um,” he scratches the back of his head, diverting his eyes. He chickens out. “Um, will you tell me about what happened with Richard?”

Charlie lets out a huff and rolls her eyes. She recounts what happened as briefly as possible, distilling Richard’s big villain monologue to only the salient bits, for her sake more than Richard’s.

“Huh,” he pinches his bottom lip, “wanker.”

“Yeah,” she replies, surprised that he doesn’t say more.

“I’m sorry though.”

“Why are you sorry? Richard’s shitty behaviour has nothing to do with you.”

Is this the right time to tell her that Richard’s ego competition with him was not just all in his head? That whenever Richard’s around Harry makes sure to be a bit more attentive and a bit more of a gentleman? That he gets all smug inside when Charlie’s friends tell him what a good boyfriend he’d be? And that he definitely makes sure to shoot Richard a small smirk whenever their eyes meet at parties?

Probably not.

In his defence, Harry owns up to his petty jealousy.

“Because he wouldn’t have come back to mess with you if those photos never got posted. And being slightly less of a dick than him doesn’t say much. The both of you mean so much to me, I panicked and got insecure, so I lashed out and said those fucked up things.”

“Insecure? Because of Richard?”

His nose scrunches, embarrassed. “He was never my biggest fan, and I just knew that once he got the chance, he would find a way to keep Rory away from me, keep you away from me. That’s like my worst nightmare. And being the main man in Rory’s life, Richard doesn’t deserve that. It’s entitled, selfish, and very wrong, but I can’t help it.”

Charlie goes silent at his little confession. “You’d only spent like, two weeks with Rory. I didn’t realise you’d care so much so quickly.”

“I fell in love with her the moment I heard about her. I felt betrayed and angry, but also enamoured, instantly. I didn’t even need to see her. I missed her before I met her.”

To say that Charlie loves Harry would not only be an understatement, but a mistranslation of something so intense and all consuming. Where had this man come from and why hadn’t she noticed sooner.

“Harry, I –“

“- even if I never got to see her again, I would still think about her, all the time. Just like how I’m always thinking about you.”

Their eyes lock in an intense stare, neither knowing what to do next.

Blinking away some rogue tears, Charlie closes her mouth that involuntarily fell slightly agape and crosses the short distance to make her way to Harry. With trembling hands, she interlaces her fingers with his and squeezes.

“I’m afraid that if I say everything I want to tell you, you’ll get scared and run away.” His voice is hushed. If they weren’t standing so close, she would not have heard him.

“I want to hear them.”

“Okay,” he replies. He’s smiling shyly now.

They both linger in the silence as if instinctively knowing that the rest of this conversation has to happen later. That neither of them are brave enough to have this conversation yet.

That night, he brings his girls out for ramen at his favourite spot. They sit facing each other in a booth at the back of the restaurant with Rory at the head of the table in a baby chair. He asks for the baby chair and a set of smaller utensils without any prompting, in fact, Charlie didn't get the chance to bring it up. He gets his favourite tonkatsu ramen and she gets the shio. When the two steaming bowls get placed in front of them, he reaches for Rory’s bowl, again unprompted, and puts in a couple strands of ramen and some soup, making sure to cut up the noodles with a fork and blow on it until it seems cool enough. In between bites of his own food, he checks to make sure Rory is eating her dinner okay, peeking into her little plastic bowl to make sure she’s not running low on food, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

Conversation at the table is minimal. Apart from some comments about the food and the restaurant, the main thing that can be heard from their table is baby babble and slurping.

Charlie likes it this way, she thinks, being able to soak in this moment without any urgency to clear the air or lay everything out on the table. Her heart's aflutter the entire time. To anyone in the restaurant, they just look like a regular family having dinner together and this normalcy is quite frankly making her freak out inside.

Dinner ends relatively early – they need to get back in time for bedtime. The guest bedroom now has a cot in it, the exact one Charlie has back home. He’s a little nervous when Charlie starts examining the stuff he bought. He’s not nervous that he bought the wrong stuff, he’s nervous that she’ll think it’s strange that he knew exactly what to get, that he memorised Rory’s bedtime routine all the way down to the temperature of the room.

She doesn’t comment on anything, of course, she just looks at him with stars in her eyes.

-

This trip to London is supposed to be a holiday for Charlie, or at least that is what Harry intended. Fine, a city she’s been to dozens of times is not much of a holiday, but Rory has never been out of Manchester, and he stays in a luxury apartment complex complete with a pool and spa.

In his head, he would kiss Charlie goodbye (just on the forehead for now) and head to rehearsals with Rory on his hip, giving her the whole day to enjoy some time to herself. In reality, the uncertainty when he proposes his idea might as well have been written across her face.

“That sounds nice H, but … this is her first time away from home and I don’t really feel okay with not having here with me.” Charlie’s voice suddenly gets louder when she realises what she is implying. “Not to say that I don’t trust you or anything, you’re her godfather of course, but it’s been –“

“Hey, I get it. Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended. I just want you to have some actual time off. You’ve been through quite a lot these past months.”

“I appreciate it, I really do. No one’s quite as thoughtful as you, H.”

Harry turns away to put away their dishes from dinner in the sink, making sure to tuck his face into his chest as best he can to try and to hide the flush blooming on his cheek.

“Well, I’ve got rehearsals tomorrow but my whole evening is free and there’s a Korean restaurant that’s really good. Let me take you, yeah.”

With her back still turned to him, she teases, “Are you asking me out, Styles?”

“Um, we eat together all the time and I would never –“

“Oh, you would never,” she interrupts in mock offence, “I got the picture.”

“That’s not what I meant. The whole Richard thing was so recent I would never try to do anything.”

“H,” she turns to put her hands on his now tense shoulders, “I was just teasing. Korean sounds good. Thanks, H.”

“I’m happy to,” he says, tilting his head back to bump Charlie’s head.

And he means it.

-

“Hi,” Charlie calls out as she knocks on the door, “sorry we’re early but one of us got a little grumpy. Hope we’re not interrupting.”

Every head in the soundproof room whips around at the new voice. But the person she came in looking for was not one of them.

“Charlie!” Sarah exclaims excitedly, “Hey, not at all we’re almost done. Come in. We haven’t seen you in forever.”

At the mention of her name, everyone else’s face seems to light up with recognition, all joining in with an enthusiastic greeting.

Rory, who was hiding her pouty little face in her mother’s neck, now perks up a tiny bit at the attention.

“And who is this adorable little girl,” Sarah coos, waving a few fingers to try and catch Rory’s attention.

“This is Rory. She might be a little shy because she’s never been around so many people like this before. You wanna say ‘hi’, lovie.” She angles her daughter on her hip to better face Harry’s band and crew.

Despite being in a bad mood the whole day, she refused to take a nap even though she was very patiently rocked for about an hour, Rory is now smiling cheekily, showing off her growing teeth to everyone.

“Can you say ‘hi’?” Charlie prompts again.

Rory drops her head abruptly onto her mother’s cheek. Then, she lets out a noise that vaguely sounds like she’s saying ‘hi’. As if on cue, everyone melts into a puddle of ‘awws’.

“Don’t be fooled she’s not normally this shy. She loves the attention, a little performer.”

With a small smile, Mitch says, “She’s adorable. I see why Harry doesn’t shut up about her. She’s probably his little protégé huh. Maybe our kids can have a little playdate sometime, they’re around the same age.”

“Oh,” Charlie’s caught a little off guard by his revelation, “sure, that sounds nice. She doesn’t get the chance to play with other children too often, I’m worried she won’t learn how to share with how much attention she gets at home.”

“I bet, especially with how much Harry spoils her, huh.”

She can’t stop her cheeks from heating up.

Before she can fruitlessly deny being the object of Harry’s attention, a familiar voice is heard from behind them. “Hey, what’s going on? What are y’all – oh, you guys are early.”

Charlie spins around. “Hi, I hope it’s okay. We didn’t mean to distract everyone.”

“It’s no problem! Monkey is too adorable, how can they not be distracted.” As Harry beelines towards them, his band instinctively makes room for him. “Hi love. Hi monkey.” He gives both Charlie and Rory a kiss on the cheek which causes the little girl to turn her head to look at him. After a couple seconds, her eyes light up with recognition.

Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie sees the band exchange knowing glances.

No longer wanting to be the centre of attention, she insists that everyone get back to work, making her way to the sofa in the corner before anyone can object. (The only person who objects is Rory who tries to make silly faces at her audience for as long as she can.)

“Let’s finish rehearsing so that we can end on time. We don’t want monkey to get too hungry,” Harry instructs.

On the sofa, Charlie sits Rory down next to her. She digs in her handbag for the toys that she always carries with her to hopefully keep her daughter from interrupting the rehearsal. Before she can hand the car to Rory, a larger hand extends into her line of vision with a small pair of green headphones.

“Here, these are for monkey. They should fit her, I double checked to make sure they ordered the right size. I told the band to try and keep it a little quieter, we’ve only got a couple songs left, but just in case maybe she should wear it.”

“You got baby headphones for Rory?”

“Yeah, I want her to come see a show eventually, especially since you said she can recognise my voice, so I went ahead and got these.” The headphones exchange hands and his go behind his back immediately. “I’m not trying to pressure you by the way I was just …”

“H, you don’t need to walk around eggshells around me, or assume that I doubt your intentions.” She quickly scans the room. Satisfied that the other in the room are occupied, she assures softly, “I know you’re not Richard.”

The relief that takes over his body is hard to miss. “I just want to take care of her, and you. The last time I tried to do that I went too far. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

It’s a surprise that Charlie can see anything because she’s sure she has hearts for eyes. Slow down, don’t get carried away. The reminder doesn’t work, none of the remaining rehearsal registers in her mind, the only time she manages to break out of her reverie is when her daughter starts squirming next to her and trying to take the headphones off. She somehow managed to understand that the music has stopped, so she’s allowed to take them off.

While she’s putting everything back into her purse, Harry thanks everyone for a good rehearsal and sends everyone off with applause. Rory, who has now crawled off the couch, joins in with the excitement by clapping her tiny hands together. Despite producing a negligible amount of noise, Harry manages to see her in his periphery.

“That’s right monkey. Say ‘yay’,” he says while slowly crouching down to meet her eyes. “Say ‘yay’, monkey.”

“Yay!” Rory chimes back.

Harry looks up to meet Charlie’s eyes as if wanting confirmation that that actually happened.

With a downward smile and raised eyebrows, she shoots him a tiny head nod as silent acknowledgement.

When they finally leave for dinner, Harry has Rory in one hand and Charlie’s purse hanging off the other, leaving Charlie to wave goodbye to everyone with a shy smile knowing exactly what this scene looks like.

-

Tonight doesn’t feel like any of the previous nights.  

For a start, Rory isn’t within arms reach of Charlie. And instead of wearing one of the many sensible outfits she brought with her she’s somehow in a dress worth more than her monthly pay.

Harry’s label is throwing a release party tonight, something he conveniently forgot to mention when convincing her to come down to London. An hour into the night, Charlie finds herself sipping on her second glass of champagne and people watching from the sofa at the edge of the room. The dim lights and loud music make her feel safe, like a protective blanket offering some level of anonymity. Not that the party is particularly unsafe. She’s been to enough of Harry’s work events to not feel completely like a fish out of water – smile politely when he introduces her, nurse a glass of whatever to give her hands something to do, and cling to Harry until all the attention becomes too overwhelming. She’s on step three right now, hence the sitting. 

Her palm is damp from the condensation from her glass, the champagne now edging on the side of too warm, but she’s too tired to be bothered, her vision having settled on a comfortable level of blurry.

“Long night?” a voice interrupts.

Her head snaps up to see an unfamiliar man looking down at her with a confident smile.

“Uh, yeah.”

The man moves to sit next to her, forcing her to angle her body to face him.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. I’m Wes.”

She plasters on her polite grin once again and covertly takes a deep breath. “Hi, I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you,” she introduces as she shakes his hand.

“So, why are you sitting all alone with a half drunk glass of bubbly? The night is still young.”

“The night might be but I’m not,” she plays along.

The volume of Wes’ laugh is disproportionate to how funny her joke is.

“Do you want a little pick me up? I’d love if I could have one dance with you.”

Her brows raise when her brain catches on to what is happening. “I don’t know if I have any more dancing left in me,” she says as if she has done any dancing tonight at all.

“That’s fair. Talking’s fine with me too.”

“Oh, you don’t have to sit here with me, I’m fine by myself. Go have fun, find someone else to dance with. The night’s still young after all.”

“Well, you happen to be the most interesting person in the room right now, so I don’t mind sitting here with you.”

Wes’ voice is buttery smooth and his confidence is alluring. Normally her face would flush under all the attention of a self-assured man, however she isn’t feeling it tonight.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Actually, I –“

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. Hey, you’re Waz right?”

“Wes, but yeah. Hey Harry, congratulations.”

“Sorry to interrupt, I need to borrow Charlie.”

Without giving Wes room to dispute, Harry tugs Charlie to her feet by the bicep, ditches her champagne flute after shooting the rest of the alcohol, and leads her to the baby room where Rory and Sarah’s baby is being cared for by a babysitter.

When the door shuts behind her, she asks, “You needed me?”

“Hmm?” Harry hums absentmindedly as he peeks into Rory’s stroller.

“You said you needed me?” she tries again.

“Right. I was bored and wanted your company.” He punctuates his words with a dismissive shrug.

“Harry!”

“What? I missed you.”

“Is that all? Really?”

He shrugs again. She rolls her eyes, yet she can’t stop smiling.

They sit on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, backs pressed against the wall in the silent room. Their only companions are the two babies who are sound asleep, and the babysitter who is sitting on a chair in the corner, trying her hardest to seem preoccupied with her phone.

There could be a hundred other people squeezed into this tiny room, but Charlie would still feel like they are the only two people present. Harry just has that effect on her. His talent for making her feel seen and wanted is astounding.

Sitting facing a plain white wall, Harry starts talking about anything and everything. In the middle of his extensive review of all the dessert options at the refreshments table, her hand finds his and interlocks their fingers tightly. She slouches down to rest her head on his bicep. He reciprocates without missing a beat, cheek resting on the top of her head. She can feel his every breath and she’s sure he can feel the same.

She doesn’t notice that her eyes have closed until a loud buzz emits from Harry’s pocket. He doesn’t move to address it, so she lets herself get comfortable again, only to be interrupted again by a stream of vibrations.

“H, your phone.”

“Sorry,” he mutters. His hand enters and exits his pocket quickly then reaches over to encourage her head to lay on his shoulder again.

“Go check it, it may be important.”

He shakes his head. “Nah.”

They return to their conversation with Harry rambling and Charlie humming in affirmation or disagreement. As her eyes flutter shut again, comforted by the low rumbling of his voice, she focuses on his thumb that is now drawing little circles on her palm to stay awake. It doesn’t work very well because she does fall asleep and is only woken up by harsh whispers.

“… this was done for you, so it would be nice if you could be present at your own party. Everyone has been coming up to me to ask about you. And why aren’t you reading my texts?”

“I am present. I’ve said ‘hi’ to everyone, thanked all the important people, and posed for all the photos.”

“But you’re now hiding here. Doing none of those things.”

“Shh, Charlie is asleep, and so are the babies. Don’t raise your voice.”

“Why are you in here playing babysitter when you are supposed to be mingling and making connections?”

“I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make.”

Then, there’s a loud smacking sound. Her eyes are still shut but any idiot could guess that the Jeff just smacked his forehead in exasperation. She would too if Harry said something so stupid to her.

“At least say goodbye and thank everyone before you leave, okay? Can you do that one thing.”

“Yes dad.”

Charlie gives up her ruse when she hears the door shut. Peeking out of one eye, she whispers, “Is Jeff gone?”

“You cheeky fucker.” Harry cups her jaw and squishes her cheeks together. “You didn’t think to help me out? You just let me get scolded by Jeff?”

She sits up slowly while rubbing her eyes. “Please, you weren’t getting scolded. I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make. Pfft.”

As she tries to stand, tattooed arms curl around her waist, trapping her to his side. “I don’t appreciate you making fun of me when I got us out of trouble.”

She squirms in his arms and tries to wriggle free with no success. The more she moves the tighter his arms get.

“Us? I am not the man of the hour. This party is not for me rockstar.”

He cups the back of her head with a hand to press her full body against him basically tucking her into his side. “Well unfortunately for you I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night. So, if I have to go out and mingle, so do you.”

“You little bitch. You begged me to come here with you.”

“I’m a little bitch?” he whisper-shouts in mock offence.

They start play wrestling in their little corner of the room, completely forgetting that there is a stranger in there with them. Their exchange of tickles and pinches causes them to topple over so that they’re now lying on the ground, Charlie’s body pressing into Harry’s with his arms still circling her waist. When they eventually tire themselves out, they remain stacked on top of each other trying to catch their breath.

He starts playing with the ends of her hair, twirling strands around his fingers then releasing it, only to start twirling it again. Lying with the woman who occupies all of his heart, mucking about on the dirty floor, Harry doesn’t think he has felt this content in a long time.

“Thank you for being here with me, it wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t speak throughout this release.”

“Well, I had to be here, for continuity’s sake, I’ve been there since your shitty X Factor audition.” Charlie clears her throat dramatically, then starts to croon, “Isn’t she lovely, isn’t she –“

“Hey fuck you,” Harry says between giggles and starts to tickle her again.

The door suddenly whips open, Jeff’s stern expression in the doorway.

“Good, nap time is over. Now, go mingle with the guests, please.”

Like reluctant children, Charlie and Harry detangle themselves and straighten their clothes, then dart out the door without making eye contact with Jeff. The moment they are out of Jeff’s eyeline, Harry grabs her hand and tugs her towards him, then shoots her a mischievous grin, like a kid with a secret. His energy is infectious, so, she returns the smile and glues herself to his side gleefully, tucking the moment they shared into a safe space in her brain.

It’s well past three in the morning by the time they’re stumbling out of the car, shushing each other repeatedly to avoid waking Rory up. Neither of them are drunk, that would be irresponsible because Rory is with them, but they are certainly not sober either. Harry has Rory’s car seat hooked on his elbow and he digs into his pocket to produce the house keys for Charlie. They ditch their shoes by the door before heading off to get ready for bed. Harry beelines toward the guest room to get Rory settled and Charlie starts doing the nightly check around the house.

Charlie is applying moisturiser when she hears gentle knocks on the door.

Harry stands behind the door in his boxers.

“Miss me already?” she teases.

He nods. Without thinking, she pinches his bottom lip that is jutting out in a pout. “Can we have a sleepover?”

She lets out a small giggle. "Okay."

He peeks into Rory’s crib before crawling into bed. The length of the day is evident in his face and yet, she can’t help but think he looks adorable with nothing but his head peeking out from under the duvet.  

When they started secondary school, they had mutually agreed that they were now too old to have sleepovers. Their usual ‘boy-girl’ activities had to be minimised because they didn’t ‘like each other like that’. Despite being supportive of this decision, Harry remembers how much lonelier his life had become once they stopped spending as much time with each other. He missed getting hello and goodbye hugs, and the way they would lean against each other whenever they would watch tv. The next time they exchanged more than a brief side hug was before his audition. Charlie had grabbed his shaking hands, gave them a firm squeeze, then wrapped him in a hug so tight that he felt his breath catch. His eyes had shut on instinct from the suddenness of everything and the sudden rush of heat that zipped up his body when he felt her body press against his.

Now that Harry has acknowledged that what he feels towards Charlie goes beyond the usual ‘boy-girl’ friendship, he wants to be close to her all the time. He flips onto his belly and rests an arm over her stomach. When that faces no resistance, he curls his fingers around her waist and wiggles closer until he can feel her body heat.

“You mean so much to me,” he mumbles into the pillow, “I need to tell you how much I love you.”

Her body goes rigid under his arm. Neither of them move, their breaths audible in the silence.

“You mean a lot to me too, H,” she whispers.

He sighs.

“Sleep,” he orders, “but stay close to me.”

“Okay, I’m right here.”

-

Harry wakes when a cold breeze creeps its way under the duvet. Just as he reaches for the edge of the duvet, his arm is mysteriously enrobed in warmth again. It takes a second for the action to register and when it does, he forces his eyes open. With half-shut eyes, he takes in the bed he’s on – familiar but not his own.

Charlie.

He’s still on his stomach, arm stretched out over where his companion was. The rustling from the duvet as he moves to sit up against the headboard alerts the room that he’s awake. As he rubs the sleep from his eyes, he spots Charlie who is standing by the crib holding Rory.

He smiles softly at the sight. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she returns his smile. “You can go back to sleep. Rory was just a little fussy in her crib.”

“Bring her here.”

She hesitates for a moment, then makes her way back to the bed. Once Rory is placed on the soft surface, she immediately tries to walk to the middle of the bed, but the plush duvet is too much for her little limbs and she ends up plopping onto her belly with a shocked expression.

Harry giggles at the sweet girl then reaches forward to pick her up by her underarms. “C’mere,” he whispers, then kisses her chubby cheek. “Good morning, monkey.”

“She’ll start whining for breakfast soon. I can take her to the living room if you want to sleep some more.”

He shakes his head with a pout. “I wanna snuggle until breakfast.”

Rory settles against Harry’s bare chest, gnawing on her fist and slobbering all over, completely unbothered by the fact that she’s skin-to-skin with a man for the first time. Charlie joins them under the covers, eyes never leaving her daughter, trying to take in the scene before her. The thought of lying in bed with her daughter and a man she loves had never crossed her mind. Not even before Richard left the first time. Her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest. Like there’s not enough space in her chest to accommodate the amount of love she feels in heart. Even though she woke up with her mind swirling from what Harry said to her before they fell asleep, right now, she can’t think of anything other than how nice this feels.

She leaves about an inch between herself and Harry which is obviously not close enough for him because he wiggles closer to her and rest his head on her shoulder. With the hand not resting on Rory’s back, Harry pats around until he finds hers and intertwines their fingers again.

Unable to help herself, Charlie comments, “You’ve been touchy recently.”

After a quiet minute, Harry asks, “Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” she replies without thinking twice.

“Can I tell you how much I love you now?”

“Okay,” her whisper is weak.

He takes a deep breath.

“I love you. And I know I love you because no one has made me feel the way you do. I’ve only just accepted that it’s different with you. No one makes me as happy, no one makes me as mad, no one makes me as jealous – I just, I could not function when we weren’t speaking, I’d never felt scared like that before, and I never want to feel like that ever again, I never want to have to worry about never getting to be with you. And you love me too, you have to.”

“Harry.” Harry’s neck aches under the strain of looking up at her. His watches her throat work as she swallows, anxious for her to say more. When she does, it comes in a small whisper, “I love you.”

She doesn’t have to force it past a knot or squeeze it out of her throat. It simply floats out of her, like a sigh of relief.

“Yeah?” Harry’s voice is shaky.

“Yeah.” Charlie’s voice is certain.

Tilting her head down to meet his eyes, she just stares at him with a stupid, toothy grin. Her best friend. Her lover. 

They don’t get to say anything more because Rory knows how to pick her moments and she picks this one. She demands breakfast by wiping her slobbery hand on Harry’s chest, looking up at him expectantly.

By now they’ve spent many mornings like this – Rory sitting in her high chair while the adults move around the kitchen preparing breakfast together – and yet it’s somehow more special today. For a start, Harry and Charlie both wear small smiles the whole time, and whenever they bump into each other or cross paths their eyes dart away shyly, as if they didn’t declare their love to each other a minute ago.

Breakfast is apple cinnamon oatmeal topped with Charlie’s favourite peanut butter (that mysteriously appeared in Harry’s kitchen a couple days ago), with a side of coffee and shy glances over the top of coffee mugs.

He is the first to break the silence. “What are ya thinking about?”

“You.”

“Oh yeah,” he’s smirking now, “what about me?”

Charlie averts her gaze and shrugs coyly.

“Can I tell you what I’m thinking about?” She nods. “I’m thinking about you in that dress from last night. When I saw you in it, my first thought was: I should’ve wanked in the shower.”

“Harry!” she scolds, “My daughter is right here.”

“She doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

“Is this what being in a relationship with you is like? You being incredibly inappropriate?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, getting up to put the dishes in the sink.

Behind her, Harry calls out in a tone that’s only half joking, “For real though, would you like to know?”

She stays silent just to get on his nerves. It doesn’t take long for him to get out of his chair. An arm wraps around her as his body presses up against her.

He drops his voice and whispers in her ear, “Please say you would like to know.”

“I would like to know,” she admits finally. She drops her head back to rest on his shoulder and presses a kiss to the bottom of his jaw.

His face almost immediately turns scarlet. He can’t wait to get used to this.

They next have time alone when Rory has her afternoon nap. The magic of their initial declarations of love fades a little as they sit facing each other with cups of tea on the sofa. Charlie wants to wait for Harry to break the silence, but she knows he’s taking cues from her. She knows he’s careful to not push things too fast after already taking the first step this morning.

With a deep breath, she lays all her cards on the table.

She tells him that despite how assured she is of their feelings for each other, she can’t help but feel hesitant jumping into a new relationship right now. That even though she knows that he loves Rory wholeheartedly, if they were to start dating, he would need to take a step back from Rory’s life because she can’t risk her daughter getting attached to him, only for him to disappear if things go wrong between them. That she doesn’t know if she can handle having a ‘boyfriend’ rather than a ‘partner’, because she’s not looking for someone to mess around with but someone to share half her life with.

He tells her that it’s going to be a lot harder to keep their lives to themselves once everyone notices that they’re spending more time with each other, but he’ll do his best to keep them safe. That he’s willing to go as slow as she needs because he has been waiting for years already, so he can handle waiting some more. That he understands her fears and is willing to take a step back with Rory because he’s confident that she’s it for him. That he’ll bear half her burdens if she’ll bear half of his.

“You don’t have to be Rory’s dad, by the way. Being with me will be hard enough with you living away, I don’t expect you to take on that emotional burden too.”

“Hey,” Harry pinches her chin gently to tip her head up to look at him, “I know what I’m signing up for. I want to take care and provide for Rory in whatever capacity you’ll let me. She doesn’t need to call me dad, or daddy, or anything – she can decide what who I am to her when she’s old enough – but please let me be there for her, and you. The only part of my heart that is not occupied by you is occupied by her.”

“I love you.”

“Say it again, please.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Can I kiss you now, I’ve been waiting all day?”

She barely completes her nod before Harry’s lips are on hers. His hands cup the sides of her face and their foreheads press together with eagerness. There is no hesitation. Every move intentional.

The kiss is not innocent, but needy.

Charlie runs her hands through his hair then tugs on the hair at the top of his neck to cause him to draw back.

“Wha?” he mumbles.

“I needed to see your face to make sure this is real.”

Harry’s brows furrow as if he’s in pain. “I can’t believe it’s you. I’m so happy it’s you.”

She seals their mouths together again, tilting her head just right to get more of him. Needing to anchor herself, her hands move to his shoulders, clutching on to him as if she’s scared he’ll just disappear.

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss. They kiss until they run out of breath, then dive right back in after a few hurried puffs of air. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough.

Harry has to physically peel himself off of Charlie to get himself to stop. Not that he particularly wanted to stop, he was just getting a little too lightheaded. Both from the giddiness of finally getting to taste her and forgetting to breathe out of excitement. He looks drunk with his slow movements and half-lidded eyes. He feels a little high if he’s being honest.

Not wanting to be too far from her, he rests his forehead on her shoulder and starts giggling to himself.

He can’t believe his luck.

-

Harry’s been crawling into the guest bed every night since. Sleeping in the same bed is not exactly ‘taking it slow’ but when he couldn’t sleep alone anymore after experiencing what it’s like waking up with Charlie, especially when she’s just across the hall.

Lots of good chats have happened in this bed. They’ve discussed how their long distance relationship is going to look like, when they would tell Anne about their new relationship, and whether she’ll be less reluctant to receive his gifts now that they are more than friends.

It’s my love language. The more things you let me buy you, the more I know you love me. She rolled her eyes so hard.

“Are you ever going to tell me which songs on the album are about me?” she asks when they’re curled into each other one night.

“Lots of my songs are about you, or could be about you, but guess.”

“Matilda?”  

“Mmhm,” he affirms. “There’s another.”

She hesitates a little. “Boyfriends?” she asks softly.

“No,” he replies immediately, “if I were to write a song about Richard it would be so blatant and damning that he would be embarrassed to show his face in public again.”

“That’s a little dramatic even for you, rockstar.” After giving it another think, she admits defeat. “I don’t know the other. Tell me.”

“It’s Satellite.”

“Really? I like that one.”

“Yeah.” His voice grows soft. “I actually wrote it long ago, just never felt right on the other albums, but I um … I revisited it after that night. After meeting Rory for the first time.”

“Oh.”

“Turns out I’ve wanted to be with you for years. Knowing that you had a child with Richard made me so envious – he got to be a part of your life in a way that I thought I’d never get a chance to. I didn’t wanna just be in your orbit anymore, I wanna be with you.”

“You’re with me now. You’re here.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I know Keep Driving is definitely not about me and frankly, I’m glad. You need to keep that shit to yourself from now on.”

“So … you don’t want me singing about how satisfied I make you?” he asks in jest.

“If you plan on making me listen to you sing about us having sex next to your mum and sister, we will never have sex .” When he starts to chuckle, she threatens again, “I’m being serious. I’ve gone over a year without having sex, and I can go longer.”

“That’s because you were having sex with small dick Richard. When I get to love on you the way I want to, you’ll want to let everyone know how good I make you feel.”

“You’re talking big game Mr. Watermelon Sugar.”

Harry pinches her chin to tip her head up. With his lips about an inch from hers, his says in a low voice, “And I plan on delivering.”

He seals his promise by slotting their lips together for what feels like the thousandth time that evening.

After Charlie falls asleep in his arms, Harry forces his eyes to stay open so that he can maximise his time with his best girls. When he can’t fight sleep any longer, his mutters one last ‘I love you’ and drifts off knowing that he’ll get to spend time with his favourite family again the next morning.

-

“Good evening Manchester!” Harry shouts into the microphone. The roar of the crowd widens the grin on his face. “Thank you for choosing to spend your evening with us. I promise that this is going to be a very, very special show.”

He slowly makes his way onto the runway.

“I always love playing shows here because this is basically a hometown show for me. And I don’t know if you guys feel it, but I feel like there is something in the air tonight. Something quite magical.”

The crowd erupts once again.

It’s probably not good practice to talk up one venue too much, that’s why most artists have a pretty standard spiel for every night, but he can’t help himself tonight. Even if he didn’t say it, everyone in the stadium could probably feel it. There is more pep in his step and the adrenaline rushing through his veins has never been this aggressive.

“Manchester, I have a special request for all of you.” He puts a finger to his lips as if he is a shushing the audience. “There are some important audience members amongst you today. So, I need all of you to go extra crazy and have an extra good time, because I’ve got some people to impress. Can you do that for me?

“This next song is for my best friend.”

Harry gets swallowed by screams as the intro to Late Night Talking starts to play.

-

liked by harryupdates, harryfan1, and 2,821 others

hstourupdates harry on stage in manchester tonight during late night talking

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harryfan1 wait who did he say that to?

harryfan2 i think he was talking to anne and gemma because he did that in their direction

↳ stylesontour there was another woman with a baby standing with them

↳ directioner1 it was his best friend charlie with them and harry was photographed with her daughter a while ago

↳ stylesfan1 wait what if he was pointing to charlie's baby because he kept looking at them and doing little waves 😩

harryfan3 to be harry's best friend 😭

taglist: @harrysfolklore @behindmygreyeyes @suspectedstyles @celestial-holland @xcaitlin101x @outofthisworl-d @haz-nn @zaynshoes @lissymarie22@duh-dobrik @harrysfinelines @rach2602 @percysaidnever @sunshinemoonsposts @sqrlgrl22

[felixora]

Some thoughts on my Sandman x Batfam collab/crossover (I have no idea what would be the appropriate name for this, coz they are part of tge same DC universe but uhhhh it's not like they interacted in the Prime universe... It's complicated, ok)

As I've mentioned before, all of Batfam members have met Death in her physical form (be it because of their own death or someone dear to them). That being said, not all of them know that this is, well, the Death. I imagine that Bruce knows for sure what sort of entity he met; Jason and Damian most likely are familiar with her as well and would recognise her on spot.

Perhaps Jason engages Death in small conversations about absolutely random stuff from his life, whenever they meet - Death would indulge him, because she would be curious about how the boy uses this 2nd chance to live a life. Damian for sure would have drawn her some pieces of art and left it on his desk, just to find later the art missing - Death would cherish this gift and hold it safely among other few gifts she received throughout time.

Now Tim. Tim is a menace, when it comes to Endless. And it all has to do, that he simply doesn't wish any part of his life to be determined by some immortal entity or part of their influence. Dream trying to entice Tim to finally get some sleep after 3 straight sleepless days of working on a case? "Fuck you, Morpheus, I'll just buy more Extra+++ energy drinks". Desire revealing all of Tim's hidden wishes and granting him an easy way of achieving them? "Fuck you too, I'll go the hard way instead, probably commit some war crimes and then lock myself away in a cave, to reconsider all of my life choices, which will eventually end up it ignoring my personal needs for X amount of time, till next crisis".

Richard is well-known and respected by the Endless, though he is absolutely clueless to this. Like. Zero awareness. (Also, after Alfred's death and Dick opening a memorial and foundation in his honour, I imagine Death would have stopped by, just to say "he is proud of you and wants you to know you did great")

Cass kinda reminds Death and Morpheus of Delirium? Just sometimes. Which potentially could end up in situations, when some of the Endless would adress her as Delirium, like a part of habit (they know for sure she's not some sort of mortal manifestation of Delirium, with their Omnipresence, but sometimes she would remind them of their sister a bit to much)

[lousypotatoes]

Hello!

May I request a Mukuro Ikusaba x reader camping in the woods oneshot?

Into The Woods - Mukoro x GN! Reader

Song Recommendation:

Heart Of Oak - Richard Crawley

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"Do you have everything?"

"Yeah, just gotta grab the bug spray,"

"Hurry up then,"

You and your girlfriend, Mukoro were going camping, something that you absolutely did not want to do.

Camping in the woods had always scared you, since you were a child, but Mukoro insisted that the two of you go, and you couldn't say no.

"Hey babe?" you asked. "How about we don't go, and instead watch a movie here?"

"Y/N, we already talked about this," she said, giving you a look. "It's confront this stupid fear of yours."

"It's not stupid!" you said, feigning your offense.

"No one else we know has a fear of camping!" Mukoro said, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, well it's a real thing! It's called Arkoudaphobia!"

"Whatever," Mukoro rolled her eyes. "Can we just go already? Please? I want to get there before the sun starts setting."

"You're lucky I love you," you muttered, walking out the door. "Or else I would of punched you as soon as you brought it up."

"Uh huh, sure you would."

"I totally would!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How do you do this?"

"How the hell do you not know not put up a tent?"

"I've never been camping before this," you huffed. "And besides, lots of people don't know how to put up a tent."

"Yeah, like little kids," Mukoro said, kneeling down. "It's basic survival skills."

"Yeah, well I never learned those kinds of skills," you said. "Can you please show me? Pretty please?"

"Fine," she groaned. "Okay, so you first have to attach the poles-"

"Which poles?" you interrupted.

"Those ones over there," she said, pointing to the poles laying in the dirt. "And then you fasten the poles through the tent, and then you just raise it."

"Raise what?"

"The tent," Mukoro groaned. "You raise the tent."

"Ohhhhhh," you said. "I get it,"

"You think can set it up all by yourself?" Mukoro asked.

"I think so," you answered.

"Good," Mukoro said, kissing your cheek. "I'm gonna go find up some wood for the fire. I shouldn't be long."

"Don't go too far," you said as she got up.

"Don't worry, I won't,"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What was that?"

"Just the wind babe. There's nothing out there, I promise,"

You and Mukoro were in the tent right now, trying to go to sleep. Unfortunately for you, there were weird noises coming from outside, keeping you from falling asleep.

And unfortunately for your girlfriend, you being scared kept her from falling asleep.

"Mukoro, I swear there's something out there," you said, pulling your sleeping bag over your face, like a scared little five-year-old scared of the monsters under your bed.

But this time, there were monsters outside the tent.

"Y/N for the last time, there's nothing outside," Mukoro said, taking your hand in hers. "I know that camping scares you, but you seriously have to get over this fear,"

You sighed. "I know," you said. "It's just hard for me y'know."

"I know," Mukoro said, pulling you closer to her, your bodies touching. "But it's gonna be okay. I'll be here with you every step of the way."

You leaned up and kissed softly, your lips molding together.

You pulled away after a moment.

"I love you Mukoro," you whispered.

"I love you too," she whispered back. You didn't see it, but there was heavy blush on her face. "Now c'mon, let's get some sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow."

And with that, you closed your eyes, drifting off into sleep, comforted by Mukoro's comfort and words.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

might make a part 2 tbh

OMG I GRADUATE IN 5 DAYS

I AM SO NOT READY FOR THIS

please join my discord, it'll be the best graduation present ever 🙏

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy