#found this band yesterday and fell in love with this song . so here it is :]

[i-am-the-oyster]

hey! you know icke braun’s autobiography? i saw a post that you made about the book and that you and somebody were working on translating (the post is from like 2022) and i was wondering if you had a pdf or something of the translated version?

Yes! Icke Braun should get so much more attention from Beatles fans.

@packyourromanticmind has very kindly shared the full text that she and her mother translated (below the cut).

If you'd like to follow along the analysis of Icke and Paul's relationship that I've been working on with @ilovedig go here (we're hoping to continue the series soon).

Anyway, back to the translation:

Kathia heard from a friend that a great group was playing the Kaiserkeller in the Grosser Freiheit area . She kept going on at me that we should go see them play. When we talked about it in the Pigalle, people all pulled skeptical faces.. ‘That’s rock n’ roll that they’re playing, it’s absolutely below our level’.    And anyway, for us it was a dangerous area, but still, I was very intrigued. One could go and listen to them and then decide what we thought of the music, and so I went with Kathia.

It was a sort of wake up experience. This music meant, without exaggeration, a total change in my life. For the first time, I saw The Beatles, I was totally out of my comfort zone;    that was my music. From one moment to the next, Earl Alexander and the whole jazz scene was yesterday’s news. The Beatles brought much more dynamic energy and aggressiveness to the stage. I could feel myself bodily transmorph into the music. It wasn’t just the music that I found amazing, I also found the way that the boys presented themselves on stage - their choreography was amazing. Paul was left-handed and stood with John or George together who were right-handed and the microphone was in the middle. So they stood with their faces to the microphone but the public saw them from the side and it was a wonderful symmetry which fitted their music. At this time the band consisted of five people, Paul McCartney on bass guitar and song, John Lennon; rhythm guitar and song, George; lead guitarist and song, Stu Sutcliffe; bass,    and Pete Best on drums. In the shortest time possible, I became a fervent fan. I went to the Kaiserkeller several times. The atmosphere was rough there, sometimes even dangerous because most of the guests there were rockers. Rock n’ roll was their sole music and they had no patience with people next to them who weren’t Exis. The Beatles at that time had their own style. As I said, I don’t understand music a lot, but to my ears, there was everything in their music that later became their sound. Above all, it was rock n roll. They covered Chuck Berry, and of course the rock fans loved him. The music and the beer would flow freely,    the atmosphere could change quickly, and they would have start a fight. This was not allowed by the Kaiserkeller and its owner, (who was called Horst and was a former boxer).    For the rockers, it was a seal of honour to poke fun at the people who that didn’t fit in with them, especially their enemies, among them of course the Exis to which I belonged. The best thing was to ignore the poking altogether and take yourself to another corner. Luckily I always managed to keep away from the fights, without completely losing face.

After a few weeks, the Beatles went into the Top Ten on the Reeperbahn, where their concerts were mostly visited by people who allowed themselves greater musical freedom. So, visitors like Kathia and I weren’t in the minority anymore. We were at the Top Ten most evenings, where a certain trust situation between The Beatles and us developed. There were situations where I really regretted that I hadn’t learnt better English, otherwise I would have had many more chances to have contact with the boys. One morning after a long night in Top Ten, Kathia and I went to bed between 3 and 4am in the morning. We went to her house and fell into bed exhausted, where we spent the rest of the day in bed. In the evening around 8 or 9pm we made our way to Hamburg again, back to the Top Ten. On the way from Ahrensburg, we came past a large strawberry plantation. Because there were no people around, Katia said, let’s steal a few strawberries. The strawberries were small, red and sweet and after we had eaten enough, we said, let’s take some for The Beatles. Kathia went into a barn and came out with a big basket. We picked so many strawberries that the basket overflowed, and on the way to the car, most fell into the road. We put the basket behind my seat and drove off. At 10pm at the Top Ten, The Beatles were already in full swing, and the dance floor was thick with people. Between two sets, we took the strawberries to the stage. The other guests joked and called us the young strawberries. We could have invited the band for a round of beer or schnapps, like the sailors or rockers did, but the strawberries were something else. The Beatles were overjoyed like children, and Paul said ‘what a wonderful idea, you can do this again!’ (He said this in bad German, which he had learnt in school). The four boys started to eat and couldn’t stop. The interval became longer and longer because the basket was so full and took a long time to empty. The public began to protest, so John decided to start throwing strawberries at people, and then Paul and the others copied him. The public then threw back the squashed strawberries and it became a food fight…Luckily most of the strawberries had been eaten. Paul then came down from the stage and asked Kathia and myself if we had a musical wish. There was a song which we liked called ‘Till There Was You’ and Kathia whispered to me that we should choose this song. It was a love song and didn’t actually fit into the whole rock n’ roll genre that they normally played. Unfortunately Paul didn’t understand that this was Kathia’s music choice and thought for years that this was my favourite song . Every time that I went to the Top Ten or The Star and he saw me, he would play ‘Till There Was You, which was was quite embarrassing for me because it wasn’t my taste of music at all, and also because the rockers bombarded me with rude gestures and remarks.    Years later, when the boys were already famous, and I was allowed backstage, we were sitting in the Ernst Merck hall and George Harrison mentioned ‘Till There Was You. I told him that it was actually Kathia’s    music taste and not mine. So he understood,    but there is still footage from The Star Club where one can hear “And now we will play ‘till there was you’ for Icke”.

After the strawberry episode, we came to know The Beatles better. Sometimes we went with them to a bar. Down below in the port, there was an English speaking pub where you could get English food and be served by English waiters and we went there a few times to eat. It was called British Sailors Society. Pete Best was very rarely there, he usually stayed in the background. And also we didn’t see much of Stu Sutcliffe, he was already dating Astrid Kircherr and concentrating more on his studies in his art school, instead of the music. The best contact I had was with Paul,    not only because he was the only one who spoke German,    but to me he was the most likeable. I went with him a few times to the Raa-Wiese. At one point he wanted to sleep with a girl, a groupie who he met in the Top Ten. He didn’t want to meet in the little room that he shared with John, George and Pete, so there were very few other opportunities for inviting girls back . He asked me if he could take the girl back to mine. Although I didn’t have much space either, but I still said yes. So I invited both of them into my little beatle car; Paul sat next to me on the passenger seat, and he had the girl on his lap. Even though she was small and dainty, it was a very tight squeeze. In a convivial mood we drove along the river at 4am in the morning, reciting tongue twisters. It was my job to say ‘red lorry yellow lorry’ three times. It was very difficult with my bad English…it was even more difficult because I was laughing so much. Suddenly the girl shrieked as in front of us a car appeared. I could only steer the car to the right and we narrowly avoided a crash. However I turned the wheel too sharply and we turned around full circle and came to a stop in the middle of the street. We really had amazing luck that at this time of day, as there was very little traffic. The car that we nearly hit was a taxi , a tank-like black Mercedes. The driver was standing next to his car and shouting like a lunatic, and he was not far from starting a fight. I was in two minds whether to drive off or not, because the taxi driver was a bullish type and he wanted to lay into me. However I decided to walk over to him, and with great effort and honest regret, I persuaded him not to report us so we were able to continue our journey in peace, although the girl now had to sit behind us. That was the worst near fatal collision of my whole life. We had been laughing so much, I didn’t notice that we had somehow ended up on the other side of the road, and we were a hairs breath away from a head on crash. We were uninsured, without airbags or safety belts and it could have been curtains for all three of us and the lorry driver. One could imagine how much poorer the world would have been without Paul..    no Beatles! The band would not have made it without Paul. George might have become an electrician, John an artist and Ringo, well he wasn’t even in the picture.    No, I don’t want to imagine it. I later relayed the story to Thomas Struck,    a Hamburger underground filmmaker who went on to make a small film of our near accident .

It’s strange that there is a rumour in this context which has been going around since 1969, and that is that Paul McCartney apparently died in a car accident in 1966 and has since been impersonated by a double. This rumour became almost a conspiracy theory which the 74 year old Ringo Starr corroborated in an interview in 2015. The theory, he said, was that Billy Shears played the double for Paul. At first, everyone wanted to keep the story going, so that record companies, and concert venues and the public were spared the gruesome details of the reality, and because Shears played his role so perfectly and nobody noticed the exchange of personality, they left it at that. Even on stage, Shears played Paul perfectly . In fact, Ringo asserts, he was better than McCartney! I don’t know what was going on between him and Paul, but such differences to me seemed very hateful. Paul apparently, after this unveiling, very angrily retorted that it was the senile gossip of an old man.

I met Paul long after the supposed accident and I never had the feeling that I was talking to a double. On the contrary, in 1991, at the Hamburg premiere about their previous world tour, I visited him in the Hotel Atlantic. He was standing with his wife Linda and two men at reception and was just about to leave when he saw me. Spontaneously he came over to me and greeted me. Billy Shears couldn’t have reacted like this, because he didn’t know me. Ringo got his comeuppance for his angry diatribes later when a post on Twitter dated    2016 declared him dead. This rumour (and naturally it was nothing more), spread like wildfire over the whole internet. I am curious to see which rumour will be the next one to make the rounds.

Anyway back to reality. When we arrived in Rahlstedt, we had to drive through a little housing estate, and it was night when we arrived; the moon was shining brightly, and the little allotment houses looked like normal houses in miniature form. Paul laughter and said; ‘I’ve never seen anything like this, do dwarves live in them?’ No I said, these are garden houses , they belong to normal people and I live in one of these houses (I was joking). In Paul’s defence , he had had a few drinks, and his tolerance wasn’t very high.

My little room suddenly became quite tight for three people; Paul, his girlfriend, and myself. Paul thought that there was even less space here than the room the group shared above the Top Ten. Because I was feeling hospitable (and because I had a bad conscience about the accident), I gave him my bed, and proceeded to make myself comfortable on the floor. Sleep however, did not come to mind, because the girl tried repeatedly to charm Paul and to pull him into her arms. Instead, he lay with his head supported by the headboard and told us stories about how he and his friends spent their nights in Hamburg. He was talking about himself, John , George and Pete Best. Stu Sutcliffe was better off because he lived with his girlfriend Astrid Kircherr . For the first time I discovered that the four Beatles lived together in a room above the Top Ten with only a little skylight, and that was only a small improvement to the hellhole their previous boss, Bruno Koschmider had put them in when they first arrived in Hamburg. They were still with Stu at that point, so it was five of them in total.    Bruno, who owned the Bambi Kino, vacated a room for them that previously housed the film reels. It was small, unheated, had no window and in comparison to their current abode, it didn’t even have a skylight. To sleep, they had to lie on straw sacks on the floor. The only positive, Paul said, was that this room was directly behind the cinema screen and the boys were able to listen to the dialogue and music of the films that played from 4pm in the afternoon. The room was lit with one tiny bare lightbulb which hung from the ceiling, and there wasn’t even a wash basin in the room. To wash themselves, they had to go to the mens toilets in the cellar. That’s where they got know Tante Rosa, the toilet attendant. Paul was charmed by her, she washed all their sweat soaked clothes, otherwise, they would have had nothing to wear. Without Tante Rosa, they would have long ago been buried in their own dirt. He also told us of the first time they went on stage at the Indra, a strip tease joint, which was also owned by Bruno. Because it was such a bad joint, the Beatles had to share billing with the strip tease dancers. For two months they had to endure this crap, because their previous manager, Alan Williams had told them that they would be appearing in a huge nightclub, (which actually turned out to be the Kaiserkeller). Unfortunately, Derry And The Seniors were appearing there, who were of the opinion that The Beatles had nothing to offer in Hamburg, and they would bring the place into ill repute with their English rock n’ roll. However it wasn’t long before The Beatles were allowed to appear, because the Senior’s contract had expired. However, their living situation didn’t change.

Paul couldn’t stop telling these stories, and I felt very privileged and honoured that he trusted me to share so much. In the meantime, the girl had long since fallen asleep and was snoring loudly, whereas we two talked deep into the night, and our conversation didn’t find an end. Very late in the night, just as it got light outside, Paul suddenly stopped speaking mid-sentence, fell asleep and began snoring louder than the girl. I tried to find myself a bearable place on the floor, but I couldn’t fall sleep for a long time because of the snoring.

I never got to know Bruno Koschmider but after Pauls stories, I’m assuming he must have been a dreadful man. Small, hunched and constantly with a miserable face.. strangely, in World War Two, apparently he performed as a clown, although he never made us laugh. This is the story that Pete Best told us anyway; that ‘he was never a clown and he never made us laugh’. In some strange way however, he had came into the money and was able to buy the Indra, the Kaiserkeller, and the Bambi-Kino cinema . His only merits was he was the first one to bring a British sound to Hamburg; he had started with Tony Sheridan, then came Derry And The Seniors, Rory Storm and The Hurricanes and finally, the Beatles. On the other hand, one could say that he misused these young people shamefully. For instance, The Beatles had to sign an agreement that for 30 marks per person, they had to play four hours a night from Monday - Friday,    and on Saturday they had to play for six hours.    Bruno even took money during their intervals.    When they moved above the Top Ten and were earning 5 marks more a day, they had to play for longer. But even so, they thought it was a move in the right direction, because they got on better with their new boss, Pete Eckhorn. Bruno threw it in their faces that they ‘deserted’ him. Then he became nasty and threw all sorts of accusations at them. First of all, because George Harrison was underage, he reported him for this. Then he reported Paul and Pete, accusing them of trying to burn down his cinema. In reality, they had only left their old boss two used condoms as a farewell present . In the end, it was only John who stayed behind in Hamburg, however he became very lonely without his friends and later returned of his own free will back to the U.K. So the story of The Beatles in Hamburg could have come to an end without much ado . But as luck would have it, they had signed a contract with Eckhorn, which means they could travel back to Germany very soon.

I once had Paul, John and George stay with me at my home in the Raawiese. My landlords weren’t home, only their 12 year old son who hung around us, and their Chinese Nightingale, who were heard singing in the background. We made a small fire in the garden and started to empty a bottle of whisky that we had bought with us. The little boy showed us a mass of twigs which were waiting to be burned, the wood was a little fresh and it was hard to light. After a short while, we had a little campfire, although the smoke got into all our eyes!    Perhaps it was the whiskey talking, or our sporting aspirations , but we decided to start jumping over the fire. After every jump we were allowed to take a slug of whiskey. Even the young boy dared to join in. When John made a misjudged jump and nearly landed in the fire and burnt his trousers, we stopped playing. He complained his only lederhosen was now kaput, although they didn’t seem damaged to me.    In the meantime, the whiskey flask was nearly empty and we were all quite drunk. It was late and the three wanted to get home to rest before their next performance. With my drunken head on, I told them I could drive them, but John wanted to borrow my beatle car instead. The fact that he had no driving license, and probably couldn’t drive anyway, didn’t matter to him. Unfortunately it mattered to me, so instead of driving my taking the car, I took them to the bus stop. It was really hard for us to walk even the few hundred meters with our wobbly legs. If we had driven there definitely would have been another accident!

When I returned to the Raawiese, the little boy came to me in great distress and told me that the nightingale was dead. ‘Which nightingale?’ I mumbled. I let myself be taken to the house where the birdcage hung. Then I saw the problem…The nightingale lay on his back with rolled up feet and he wasn’t moving. Even when I gently nudged him, I couldn’t bring him back to life. Perhaps our campfire had killed him. I actually thought to myself, when the landlords find out about this, I will be out on the street. So I told the boy that our adventures with the fire had to be kept a secret from his parents. He agreed, and we threw some water onto the campfire and moved everything away that was still lying around from the garden party. I was hoping the neighbours were away, and wouldn’t tell on us. Anyway, my fears were ungrounded, because although the landlords were sad about the death of my bird, they never asked any questions. Obviously the little boy stayed true to his word. I met him recently after a visit to the Kleingartensiedlung.    He still lived in the little old house. In the meantime, he had renovated and extended, but otherwise it looked exactly like it did in bygone days. He told me proudly that he tells our story to the people on his estate, and they fall about in surprise when he says that The Beatles once came to his house and jumped over their camp fire.

From April 3rd 1962, The Beatles played in the Star Club. Kathia and I had a sort of place of honour in the upper circle which was always reserved for us. We never paid any entrance fee and we always had a great view. Although since then, I’ve had another girlfriend - we still sat together in the same box. On the box in front of us was Astrid Kirchherr, Klaus Vormann and Jurgen Vollmer. There were the first guard of Beatles friends, and we belonged to the second. The great thing about our box was that we were allowed to use it even when other musicians appeared in the star club . In those days, these were the prominent people in the rock n’ roll scene of the time; Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis.    For all these visits, we didn’t have to pay a penny, except for Ray Charles, who we once saw in the Star Club; that cost me 20 Marks.

Next to the Star Club, there was a place called Zer Holle. This was where I often sat with The Beatles, but also with other bands, such as Gerry And The Pacemakers. There was sometimes a woman joining us called Mary Brown, who was the leader of the Beatles fan club. I was once here with Mary, Paul McCartney, Gerry and a few others. Gerry went on at me that I should become his fan too. He spoke nonstop and he kept repeating the same sentence. “Icke, you should become MY fan”. At the beginning I felt very honoured and flattered, but after a while he got on my nerves . I ordered him a beer and although he was already fairly merry, he toasted me and said, “now I’m becoming an honorary Beatles fan”. I asked Mary to show me my fan passport which she showed me immediately. I was member number 62. Until the late 60s, Mary Brown sent every member of the fan club a vinyl recording of music and best wishes from The Beatles. As an honorary member, I also had to pay very little for the beer. Once, a waiter who was new to the Star Club, asked me for 1.50 Marks and I didn’t have any change, so I gave him a 20 Mark note . He said to me, ‘when I’ve got the change i’ll come back to you’. I tried to attract his attention when he passed by my seat, but he looked at me like he didn’t recognise me. He insisted that I’d only given 1.50 and I became very stubborn and started arguing, and he threatened to throw me out. At that moment Horst Fascher walked past. I didn’t know him very well but he knew me. I told him I’d given the waiter 50 marks    but he hadn’t given me any change. One moment said Horst. The waiter was a head higher than the owner but he knew what was coming. Horst grabbed him by his arm , turned him away from me and said a word I didn’t understand . Then he waited until the the waiter opened his pocket book and gave me 48.50 as change. Normally I’m an honest person, but when I’m being swindled, the war-child in me comes through, who has learnt to insist and get tough, even if it’s at the cost of other people. I didn’t have a bad conscience because of what I had done. First, I did to him what he did to me, and second, on his evening round, he had probably done the same to the rest of his evening guests.

Horst was the eldest of three brothers. They were all small men under 1m 70, but they were feared fighters. He was the first one to have the idea to bring English rock music to Germany. In 1959 he appeared as a lightweight fighter in a match in London. That evening after the fight, he partied through Soho and landed in a club where rock n’ roll bands were playing live.    The German version of this music was also playing at the moment in the Kaiserkeller, but this was a different format. The singer was Tony Sheridan. His appearance was as strong and authentic as Bill Haley or Elvis Presley, who one only knew through Hollywood films. Horst was amazed. Back in Hamburg, he told Bruno Koschmider of his discovery. Bruno flew instantly to London and engaged Tony for his Kaiserkeller . Horst was the second string to his fiddle; he was later responsible for bringing the Beatles from the Kaiserkeller into Peter Eckhorn’s Top Ten, and then to Manfred Weissleder in the Star Club. Both his brothers were waiters in the Star Club but otherwise they didn’t really play a large role. Freddie, on the other hand, who was the youngest brother, became my protector. I was only a little player, and the impression was sometimes that people could push me around. But if I became cross with somebody and Freddie noticed, he would come between us . He was little, and his opponents were mostly bigger so he would grab them by the shirt, pull them down to his level and give them a headbutt, then there was peace.

With his brother Horst, I once had a special adventure. At Christmas of ’62 I had made The Beatles a special Christmas plate (as I had done the year before), where amongst other things I always distributed were bags of Liptons tea. That was a trademark - it was meant to be a quirky reminder of home. I also placed candles on the plates, and I wanted to bring all of this onto the stage, but Horst told me off and said, ‘you can’t do this with lit candles on stage - its much too dangerous…What were you thinking? Give them to me!’    So he dimmed the lighting in the room and took the coloured plates with the lit candles to the stage. The Beatles were already throwing tea bags and biscuits at each other, and Paul took the microphone and said, ‘Icke, you are so considerate’. Because of the teabags, they recognised the plates were my invention, even though Horst had taken them to the stage. The hardened rockers in the audience thought it was a bit feminine and misplaced that I should give such Christmas presents for them. But for me, every appearance The Beatles made was a present that was bigger than I ever could have given them back. Every time I listened to them, an intense feeling of happiness flowed through me . In them, I could forget everything around me. I never experienced such a total immersion in any other rock band who appeared at the Star Club. Perhaps there was something feminine about it , but I didn’t care.

Something feminine was at play the first time I met John. I sat with him and the rest of the band at The Star Club at the end of the night after their gig. The bar was the shape of a large oval on which one side John sat with George and a few other guests, whereas Paul and I were about five meters away on the other side. We chatted about who was our favourite author.    Naturally the guys only knew English or American authors, that was clear. Who mentioned who I’m not so sure. One said Lewis Caroll, another said Dylan Thomas. I had recently seen the play Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas, otherwise I knew nothing of him. ‘And you Icke?’ Asked Paul..    ‘who is your favourite author?’. ‘Henry Miller, I find him really great’, I replied.    At the same moment, John glanced over to me. Up until then, he had been watching - with his usual slightly bored expression, Bettina the bar lady as she washed up glasses and cleared up the bar. Our conversation didn’t seem to interest him enormously. Now he looked at me directly in the eyes. Silently and without taking his eyes off me, he came around the whole length of the bar, kissed me on the mouth and walked back to his place. At first I was very surprised and didn’t know what to do about this. Then I found it slightly amusing and didn’t think any more of it . A few days later, it happened again. I met him on the walkway behind the stage and again he took my hand and kissed me. That made me actually think about the fact.. ‘Oh my God, am I gay?, because I don’t know if I can do this’. But what was really behind this, I don’t know, and never knew. Maybe the kisses were a sort of overture? Because amongst homosexuals, he was known as a Klemm-schwuler (‘camp gay’ /closet case).    I have no idea.    In any case, I saw his girlfriend Cynthia, who visited him in 1961 and who he married a year later. Quite apart from that, he was often seen in the company of girls a lot.

On the 10th April, 1962, the fifth Beatle, Stu Sutcliffe died of a brain tumour. It was the same day that his band colleagues, (apart from George), landed at Hamburg airport a few days later to appear at the Star Club. I had very little contact with Stuart, because he left the band a year before I knew them to concentrate on his studies at the art school. Amongst his friends, his death was a huge shock. Especially hard hit was John, who was at art school in Liverpool with him and was close friends. For days he ran around like a corpse through the city, until he found himself again.

In the first half of Nov 1962, when The Beatles appeared at the Star Club again, the drummer was Ringo Starr and not Pete Best. I couldn’t get used to it at first. Even though I had very little personal contact with Pete, I felt that an important part of the brilliant ensemble had been lost. After a while, I became used to Ringo and strangely, the music became somehow rounder, and in any case, not as loud as before. Perhaps I’m just imagining it, as I’ve said, I’m not the greatest music expert. My impression was that Pete always drummed like a madman, whereas Ringo fitted in with the music. What Paul had said to me was that it was Brian Epstein who replaced Pete. It was already then very obvious the enormous influence this man had on the group. From the beginning of November, he monitored their performances and they appeared in a new, specially made outfits which they had overlooked so far in their Hamburg performances. Now they were in preppy clothes. And accordingly, they behaved themselves on stage. No more mucking around and no insults. It was only when Epstein left Hamburg on Nov 10th, they were able to go back to their old style of performance. Already on the Sunday evening, just a few hours after they had taken their manager to the airport, they were wearing their old leather rags and dancing on the stage as normal. John as usual, offended the whole audience by insulting them.

The Beatles last performances at the Star was Dec 18 -31st, 1962 . On New Years day, they were due to go back to England. I took Paul in my little beatle car to the airport, where he met with the others. Then the announcement came that the flight to London was delayed by four hours. Wonderful I thought, I have more time to hang out with them. It was in these last hours that I could talk to them all on the same level; because what happened in the next few months in England, at the crazy speed it developed, none of us, the Beatles or the fans could have imagined. The next time I saw them, they were absolute world stars and they lived in a different world. That time in the airport bar we were still thinking that in a few months, they would be appearing at the Star Club again . They were in good spirits, and not just because of the previous night where we had celebrated all night, and drunk a lot of alcohol.    It was more because they were heading off on small tour in Scotland, which was due to take place the next day beginning in Keith. But most importantly, they were beginning a tour with Helen Shapiro, where they would appear as one of the six warm up acts. Helen was 16 years old, so a few years younger than The Beatles, but much more famous and much more savvy than the boys. Musically they didn’t think much of her, but her fame was hard to discredit. It was going to be their first professional tour. Us Hamburger fans followed their journey via newspapers and the radio, how they were celebrated by the public, and soon Helen Shapiro was displaced. This tour lasted a month from February to March 1963, and catapulted The Beatles into the heavies of rock music. Together with Tommy Roe and Chris Montez-Tournee, they had broken through. Brigitte Janner, who was my girlfriend at the time, kept me up to date with how famous the band were becoming and the welcome they received whenever they appeared .

It was three and a half years later that I saw them again. A teen magazine called Bravo had organised a lightening tour through Germany with them, and three weeks before had started creating an advertising frenzy . Even the people from Der Bild and Bravo stood outside my house and wanted to interview me. I said they could interview me if they could get me into the Beatles press conference . They didn’t want to do that, perhaps they couldn’t do it. In any case I didn’t give them an interview. The next day in Der Bild newspaper, there was a big article entitled ‘Icke And The Beatles’. There was a photo of me with wide open eyes, which somebody had shot the moment I had opened my door for them. It was not exactly a good image of me and I would have stopped the publication of it had I known. Also in this article, there were loads of made up stories . These stories started circulating at my work which made me uncomfortable, not least because my colleagues were gossiping about me. After all, I was head of the department, and I didn’t want to be compromised.    There were newspaper articles in Der Bild and Bravo about me in Reinhold & Mahla (my workplace) which was uncomfortable for me, because it meant my colleagues had ratted on me.

The tour was booked from the 24th - 26th June; three days in three cities. Through the press photographer, Peter Bruchmann, I found out the Beatles would be arriving at 5 30 am on a special train at the Ahrensburg station, so I got up at 4 in the morning not to miss this moment. As the train approached, I stood very close to the edge of the platform. A mass of journalists, fans and other commuters also stood on the platform. It was terribly noisy and nobody could understand a word anyone was saying. Luckily, I found a favourable place on the platform - facing the wagon in which the Beatles were basically stood right outside my nose. I saw the guys standing at the window and Paul saw me too. He moved his lips as though he wanted to say something to me, and pointed to the front where they were going to disembark. Unfortunately this was about 10 meters deep with people who were all trying to see the band. I tried with all my might to push through but I was still stuck in the middle. It was just impossible to get through. The Beatles had already disembarked. They were corralled straight away by the bodyguards who had freed a walkway through the crowd. However, Paul managed to turn around, he called to me, ‘We’ll see you later!’, and then they ran at speed through the walkway, out to where the cars were standing, surrounded by journalists and fans who were waiting for them. They were taken with a police escort to the Castle Tremsbuttel, where they were staying the night.

The whole thing happened so quickly that on the way home, I thought it had been a dream. On the way back in the car, I asked myself, what did Paul mean when he called out to me? How should I approach him, how was it going to work that we would see each other when the instructions had been so vague. The two concerts were scheduled for 3pm - 4.45pm and then 7pm - 8 45 pm. In between both concerts there were press conferences being held, to which unfortunately I wasn’t invited. I managed to get a ticket for the second concert, but I still hung around for three hours with the other fans in the hall. Suddenly on the loudspeaker I heard my name. ‘Icke Braun is asked to come to the desk’. I thought to myself, what do I need to come to the desk for? but I went anyway. A man was standing there who I had met before - he was from the newspaper, Der Bild. He told me that Paul McCartney wanted to speak to me, then turned around and went into the conference room and I followed him. Already outside I could hear John Lennon’s voice and as the door opened, I saw him joking with the journalists. As everyone was only speaking English, I didn’t understand much of it. The Beatles were sitting on a podium together with a man I didn’t know. Later I discovered that that was Neil Aspinall who was the personal assistant to the Beatles. George saw me and waved me to his side. I went a bit nearer to the stage but kept my distance. Why should I stand around on the stage looking stupid when I had nothing to say? So I stayed where I was and waited until the end of the conference until I said hello to the guys. A few journalists then left the room but most stayed. When the Beatles came down from the stage, George asked me ‘how are you and what are you doing with yourself’? I said, ‘yes I’m good, I’m now married!’, John heard that and called, “Where’s your wife, let’s see your wife!” and Neil said to me; the Beatles wishes must be obeyed! So I called Evelyn and told her the Beatles wanted to meet her. She was able to come straight away because we had talked about something like this happening. We withdrew into a little room, and suddenly I saw that there was Kathia and Bettina from the the Star Club. I must have overlooked them amongst all the chaos. When Evelyn appeared, she was the first to be introduced to the Beatles. Everything revolved around her and as they were all speaking in English, I stood by looking stupid, so I took the chance to go to the toilet. in order to do that, I had to go through the hustle of journalists who were waiting to grab one of the Beatles. When I came back from the toilet, they were begging me to take them back into the conference room. One said, if you take me with you, I will give you 1000 Marks.    When I got back to the Beatles, I asked if I could bring a few people in to meet them, but John and the others were emphatic; no way, we want this to be just us. Bettina took a few photos out of her bag, which showed the Beatles in the Top Ten and    the Star Club. The boys were delighted and told her that they would like to have the photos. I told them that the photographer who took them was standing outside the door. ‘Fetch him in, fetch him!’ said John excitedly. The photographer was called Peter Bruchmann, and was absolutely delighted to be the only journalist to be allowed into the conference room. It was he who had given me the tip that the band would be alighting off the train at Ahrensburg . I knew him from the time when the Beatles played at the Top Ten. At that point he hadn’t heard anything about them, and I had to persuade him to come and see them and take a few photos. These became the most famous photos he had ever taken.

A few years ago, we spoke and he told me that his career never got better than these early days. Sadly in 2014 he died. The last photo that he ever took of The Beatles in Germany, he took at the Ernst-Merck-Halle concert venue. The other people in the picture were Bettina, Kathia, Evelyn and i. Unfortunately he couldn’t supply photos from their Hamburg time to the boys at this moment, but he promised them he would send them on if they gave him a forwarding address, however, in the general melee this conversation sadly got forgotten.

All together we stayed for two hours and told each other what we had been up to in our lives. Amongst other things, I asked if they and The Rolling Stones were enemies like the German press insisted. They said that was total nonsense; they were very friendly with them. Then we went into the dining room where we ate fillet steak with lots of onions. Ringo pushed the onions fussily to the side of his plate, and said ‘the whole world knows that I don’t eat onions apart from Hamburg evidently’. During the second concert, we sat int the first row in reserved places, so I could have said myself 20 Mark fee! The Beatles only played half an hour because they wanted to introduce some Hamburg band which included The Rattles. A few of these bands ended up being a bit disappointed because they were just pushed to the side and their music was hardly listened to. Unfortunately, I as an audience member, could understand because everyone had came to see the Beatles, not the Hamburg side acts. Paul told me before the band went onstage that we would see him afterwards, however they disappeared from the stage straight away; while the public was still clapping and calling for more, they were already in their cars. That was the only way to take them from their fans in safety. This was the only contact that my wife Evelyn had with the Beatles.

I myself had two more opportunities to meet Paul McCartney. The first time was in Scotland in 1988. I had long been married to Uta and she was pregnant with our first child. The car we had brought along was a Renault, a fairly long car, where we were transporting a canoe which wouldn’t fold, so it didn’t look very elegant. We had came to a town called Campbelltown, to meet our friend Mary who we had worked with at Amnesty international in Jagerberg . Mary remembered visiting us and seeing a picture of Paul, and told us that her mother had worked for him, at his estate which was not far from here. I said to Uta; ‘come on, let’s go and drive to see him’. But she did not want to go, so therefore I drove there alone. On the way, I had a rethink about what I was actually doing. The estate was guaranteed to be a tourist attraction for journalists and fans, so Paul would likely always have bodyguards on duty. If I were to arrive in my completely filthy Renault with a monster of a canoe on the roof, I wouldn’t stand a chance to get past the bodyguards. They would think that a lousy jerk was coming, who has no reason to be here. That I was once a friend of the famous Paul McCartney, they simply wouldn’t believe. The estate was quite a way away, but I stopped the car and really thought this through - should I carry on with this adventure, or would it be best to simply turn around and just go home. The humiliation that I could be turned around and sent away… I would never get over . For a while I fought with this, backward and forward, then I turned the car around and drove back at a snails pace.

So the last opportunity where I met Paul was in 1991 at the world premiere of Get Back, directed by Richard Lester. After the press conference, I met him and his wife Linda in a room at the back of the cinema. In the room with me was Astrid Kircherr, Ulf Kruger and Achim Reichel and his wife, who had won a place at this this meeting in a competition. During our chat, I mentioned my adventure in Scotland. Even though it was embarrassing to talk about this in front of people, I told Paul that I had planned to visit him, and that I was fearful of the consequences, didn’t trust my courage enough and therefore turned around. He said, “Oh for Gods sake Icke, that’s such a shame. It    would have been wonderful if you had actually visited me”. It sounded like he really meant it. I’m still angry at myself over this, sometimes I’m too much of a doofus for this world.

[hippienerrd]

Rock Star Boyfriend Remington Leith x reader

·Summary: You and Remington want to go public about your relationship but the fear of what might happen after is getting to you

·Genre: Fluff

·TW: None

I sat next to Remington in their tour bus as Sebastian led a group of fans inside for VIP. Everyone took their seats on the floor of the tour bus and the boys began doing their thing. Its nice getting to see these interactions, they care so much for their fans and its probably the sweetest thing I've ever seen, all of the gifts and fan art the fans bring the boys and the heart warming stories they tell of how the band has helped them.

It almost relieves my fear for Remington and I going public, most of the fans are very sweet, the boys have found a beautiful community, however I've seen some celebrities and their partners get harassed by crazy fans just for being together and it makes me worry that we will have to deal with that.

That's when my thoughts were broken, the boys had finished their 2nd song and were taking a moment to talk to fans when someone asked "who is the girl by Remington?". Remington glanced at me and read me like a book, he's good at that. Emerson had yet to speak up because he knew we're not public just yet, so he gave Remington or myself the floor to answer, Sebastian on the other hand had a bad habit of telling the fans a little too much.

Before the pause became too long or suspicious and before Sebastian could complete his sentence Remington gave an excuse "shes a good friend of ours, she wanted to travel so shes helping us with roadie stuff while on tour but today shes staying in with us because she had a long day yesterday" I nodded to help sell the white lie. Its all true except the long day part, i often stay with the boys, and the fact that Remington and i are just good friends.

After VIP we had a short period backstage while we waited for everyone to pile in, during this period Remington pulled me into a dressing room. " Y/N can i ask you something?" "Of course" i responded sincerely "why are you so worried about what they think? I love you and i want to be able to show it." "I-" i began but our conversation was cut short when Sebastian came through the door "we're on" he said and all 3 boys made their way on stage.

I didn't watch the show tonight i just sat in the dressing room thinking,, a lot. Remington posed a good question and we're on the same page with wanting to be able to show our feelings for each other more. Im not scared of their opinions i just don't like drama and i don't want that for the boys either.

Remington's POV

Sebastian and i had already left the stage, Emerson was out there still throwing roses to the audience. This is normally when i return to greet Y/N with a sweaty hug and a kiss but she wasn't here this time. I asked a stage hand if he had seen her but his response was " not since before the show started" i thanked him and went to check the dressing room we were in before, thankfully she was sitting on the couch staring back at me.

I walked in and closed the door, locking it this time so hopefully we could finish our conversation. " Are you ok?" I ask Y/N, she nods and starts our topic from earlier back up. "I was just thinking is all, about your question from before the show, im not scared of what they'll think im just scared of the drama that may start surrounding us, i don't like that kind of stuff and to make it worse it doesn't only effect us but your brothers too, Palaye Royale as a whole will have to deal with the discussions of us online."

She made a good point. "Everything will be ok, weather were public or not" i said as i hugged her close. "How about this, we can both talk to my brothers and include them on the decision, if that will make you feel better." she looked up at me and smiled while nodding her head again.

We sat there for a minute just holding each other enjoying the company before we went back to the tour bus and fell asleep cuddled up before my brothers had even returned.

Kinda a short one but i hope you enjoyed anyway! Happy fever dream release btw!! Im writing this weeks in advance so i can post the day it drops :)

Its been a hot minute since I've been active in this fandom so i apologize if its not the best i just had to since these beautiful boys were such a huge part of my freshman year, they got me through a lot then.

[the-cadent-roses]

Goodbye World

September 30th 2022 (214)

._+ Mis-eye-ventures Day LXVII +_.

Late at night my nephew and I were chatting, going through some deep stuff. I played a randomized Gorillaz playlist (which we both love), and got some random but timely song choices, amongst them "The Pink Phantom", which lyrics hit hard and close home.

"I tried to say I love you

But you didn't listen (summer nights)

I tried to give you everything you might need (summer nights)

In a sky made of diamonds

And where the world is flawless

I'll be waiting for you on the other side"

It is most definitely cliche and corny, but the day it came out, I was at a really low point, after a then recent, devastating separation, and the whole mood fit like a glove.

***

As movies now premier in the middle of the week, my nephew had clases early in the morning. I got up, commanded him to shower, whilst I got some breakfast done. He was well nourished and ready once my cousin came to pick him up. He is a really nice kid, but sometimes his actions towards her sister and my cousin are a bit tricky. As if he were mad and incapable of processing his damaging emotions.

***

Taking advantage of my early awakening, I went with my mom to her job, then I took my chance to walk back home, I tried with a new route, which allowed me to enter the Bazaar I mentioned a few entries back. It is a fantastical place. I found some old CDs, books and more. Plus, I could get my freshly arrived friend some gifts. As a cherry on top, I found a match box between some forgotten books, it has the name of a Mexican restaurant, with an English Slogan and a German address... I'm highly confused and I love it.

***

I kept the walking going, at least to the nearest metro station. Then. Headed again to the Vans store, jn order to pick the sneakers (hopefully). Apparently his size is still unavailable, but his girlfriend's (?) is, so on his orders, I bought to different models for her. They both shine in the dark.

***

I went south to meet my Uni friend, whom have arrived yesterday (I think) from Spain. He had a card holder and a notebook for me, both with the map of Madrid's metro system, I love them to death. He also got me a little car, full metal and moving parts, a great little thing. I got him an old CD, from a 2000s pop band, a rare encounter, as well as beautifully illustrated book on cactus care-taking. We met in a little japanese-themed store, so we could get oir hand on some Gachapons. After much deliverance, we sided for the hide-and-seek Moomin collection. I got Mama-Moomin, he got Child-Moomin, or just Moomin. We ate some meat nearby and I rushed back north to catch my family for an oddly deranged dinner.

~Roses~

Here are the full lyrics:

"You've more or less forgotten me this summer

I can't hide my disappointment

I was on my way in the Phantom V

The one you gave away

Try to tell you that I love you but I'm choked up

You forgot and that makes me feel like no one (summer nights)

Were you even really there?

Did you ever really care?

Wait, I got so many examples of all of the good times we had

Long summer nights (summer nights)

Held you a long time, put your name in my rhymes

Refresh your memory of where you wanna be

The Phantom's on the way, she's comin' down the street

I tried to get to Atlanta

On a peach blossom highway

I'm tryin' to put these puzzles out of mind

In a sky made of diamonds

Where the world fell silent

I'll be waiting for you on the other side

Summer lights (everyday, everyday)

Sometimes (ride where the summer goes)

Summer nights

Every night

Summer nights

I tried to say I love you

But you didn't listen (summer nights)

I tried to give you everything you might need (summer nights)

In a sky made of diamonds

And where the world is flawless

I'll be waiting for you on the other side

Of summer lights, summer lights

Hold it in for a long time

Summer lights, seems to me I'm in a dream

Behind these summer lights

The Phantom is coming

You forgot and that makes me feel like no one

She's crossing over the line

Wait, I got so many examples of all of the good times we had

Seems to me I'm in a dream (long summer nights, I loved you a long time)

(Put your name in my rhyme, refresh your memory)

Behind these summer lights

(Of where you wanna be, the Phantom's on the way)

(She's comin' down the street)

Sometimes"

[aleebmealone]

Chapter One- More Than Qualified

The leaves brush past my ankles, blown by the cool autumn wind. I tighten the blazer around my torso, buttoning it in the front as I walk towards the tall glass building. This was my opportunity to change my future.

I open the door and the receptionist smiles up at me with perfect white teeth behind perfectly painted red lips, “Good morning, how can I help you?” 

“I'm here for the interview to replace Benjamin Evans,” I reply, keeping my voice even and smooth. She looked at me for a moment, doing a fair job at hiding her surprise, “Ms. Dawson is it? Have a seat and I’ll call you up in about 15 minutes at your interview time.”

I thank her and found a seat near a window, pulling my phone and airpods out. I went to the favorites list on my contacts and pressed the first one.

“Hey bestsie booskie, are you on the way to the interview?” My best friend Blake’s voice rang out on the other side of the phone. “I’m waiting in the lobby of Madison Avenue for them to call me up. I'm really trying to stay calm here.”

“Well remember what you heard in that TikTok, it's helped you in interviews before. Take your time when you're speaking, they are there to listen to you. You set the pace with them okay?” Blake’s voice was very calming and I could tell that they were really trying to calm me down. “Also, you should go over your notes and the Tweets that you saved about the situation. I know it’s been a while but since they're finally setting out for a manager, they're going to need to be touring soon again. Just remember the talking points we went over yesterday.”

It was a good idea, and since Blake was in my airpods, I could look at my phone while I listened to them talk on the other end. 

“Australian band 5 Seconds of Summer look for new management a year after firing Benjamin Evans due to mismanagement,” was the first headline that read in the trending page on Twitter. 

It was a pretty large scandal following a song that was released two months after their 5th album, 5sos5. They claimed it was a total accident but the lyrics that the band had written together in secret spread like wildfire and had many people questioning what their manager was doing behind the scenes that made them feel this way. Eventually the band finally had the rest of the HR team file an injunction and got Evan’s fired from his position. Because of this, the entire responsibility of managing fell onto the band themselves and in order to pick up the pieces, they had to cancel their tour for 5sos5.

Now that a year has passed and they were able to settle the lawsuit that Evan’s filed against them, they're looking for new management in order to be able to go on tour again and just get back to normalcy.

“The fans are really excited to see them, and I’m sure they’re excited to get back on the road as well, Kavya. You just have to ensure that you will be there to back them up, not control them.”

Blake’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts about the scandal. “I know Blake, listen I’m gonna call my mom real quick before I have to go in okay?” I pull up my mom's contact on my phone, “Okay bubs I’m so excited for you! Try not to pass out at how gorgeous they are! Do good, I love you!” 

“I love you too Blakie,” I replied and went ahead and started calling Mom. 

“Hey Kavya-nana, what’s up,” I immediately took a breath hearing my mom's voice on the line. “Mom, I’m freaking out.”

“Is the interview over already?” She asks, surprised. “No, no, I'm in the lobby waiting but I’m seriously so nervous.”

“Kav, they called you didn't they? You stood out in your application, they want to get to know you a little better. This is already a huge step. I'm sure they didn't call back any more than 10 people.” My mom reassured me, “You’ve been through multiple internships regarding entertainment management, and you have a masters degree from NYU in the field. You're qualified for it, you just have to impress them in the interview. What are you wearing?”

I look down at my outfit, “The black heels I got for that presentation on my thesis, with my go to black dress pants that I usually wear, the baby pink scalloped dress shirt and a black blazer.”

“Is your hair up in a ponytail with the matching pink ribbon?” I touch the ribbon that my dad gave me before a huge presentation my first year at grad school. “Yes, of course Mom.”

“Well you certainly look the part, you didn't do some crazy makeup right, just the professional kind. And- oh, are your tattoos showing.” I roll my eyes, remembering how big of a meltdown both of my parents had over the small tattoos that are spread around my body. “Yes my makeup is professional and no you can't see my tattoos. I'm pretty sure they won't care if I have any, because they all have them so…”

“Well fine, fine, you just know how we feel about those things okay. You're going to be fine, just talk politely and pray before you go in okay.” I subconsciously bring my finger up to my forehead, “And put a cross on your forehead okay? Bye nana.”

“Bye mom,” I sigh, hanging up. I take the airpod out of my ear and back into its case before slipping it into my pink Kate Spade that also matches the color of my top. 

“Ms. Kavya Dawson?” A woman calls from the elevator that just opened. I stand up and grab my purse before walking over to her, making sure to keep the sound my heels make to a minimum on the hard vinyl tile. 

I get into the elevator and the woman pushes the button to the 36th floor. My breath catches in my throat as the elevator lurches upwards and I feel my palms become damp.

“Well you're awfully different from the applicants we’ve had come up here so far honey,” the woman says, turning and looking at me up and down. I stare at her for a moment, “Oh, oh not because you're a woman, just… you're so young.” 

“Oh, um… I guess yeah,” I awkwardly stutter. “I just finished my masters degree so I guess I am pretty young.”

“Oh…” The woman turned back around and an awkward silence filled the air. “Well, are you a fan of this band?”

My cheeks heat up immediately against my will but she doesn't seem to notice. “Well I guess they are very popular amongst my peers and I have heard a few of their songs.” Lie. “So I guess you could say I like their music. Lie. “But I really don't know much about the band members themselves.” Lie number three, strike you're out.

The elevator bell dings, signaling that we made it to the floor. “We’ll I'm sure you're going to do great, have a seat right over here and they’ll come get you in a moment okay?”

I smiled at the woman kindly and took a seat in front of two opaque double doors. My throat was in my heart at this point. The woman's judgment of my age threw me for a heavy loop.

“You're more than qualified.” 

“Take your time when you're speaking, they are there to listen to you. You set the pace with them okay?”

My mother and my best friends' voices rang in my ears, slowing my heart rate just the slightest bit. I’ve been in situations like this with less qualifications and preparation time before, and I made it through just fine. 

I will be fine 

A man opens the opaque doors. He was much older than me, definitely in his mid 40’s wearing a three piece suit that absolutely cost as much as my tuition for grad school. He stared at me for a moment, confused. “Are you here for the interview?” 

I stood and nodded at him. He held the door open for me and motioned for me to go in while looking at me up and down, “Good luck with those assholes,” He puffed out.

I was not fine.

I genuinely stopped breathing when I walked in. This wasn't the first time I saw them, but absolutely the first time I saw them up this close. 

The room was a pretty normal conference room with giant windows overlooking New York City. Large black leather chairs surrounded a large brown table that 4 boys sat at the end of. 

The four boys stood up and walked over to me, holding a hand out. 

Firm grip but not too firm

“Good morning, I’m Calum Hood.” He was wearing black slacks with an untucked button up and a loose tie.

“Ashton Irwin, it’s a pleasure,” a button up red velvet shirt that had the first three buttons unbuttoned with black slacks.

“Michael Clifford,” He sported a pair of black ripped jeans and a patterned red and black short sleeve button up. As he held out his arm I saw the iconic tattooed band around his elbow.

“And I’m Luke Hemmings,” A lovely collared short sleeve shirt and khaki pants that hugged his tall body perfectly.

I gulped, “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you, my name is Kavya Dawson.” Luke motioned for me to have a seat at one of the chairs and they walked back to have a seat at their computers. 

“Kavya, that’s a lovely name,” Ashton said, “What does it mean?” 

“Thank you, it means poetry in motion in Hindi,” I answered, settling down in my seat. I cross my fingers and place them above the desk. 

“Fascinating. So Ms. Dawson, tell us a bit about your history, your career, education, anything you would like to let us know.” Luke said, shifting through some papers, presumably my resume.

“Of course, I am a recent graduate from New York University where I received my masters degree in Music Business Management in one year by having extra credits from my bachelors degree and taking large credit hour semesters.” I felt myself run out of breath quickly with how fast I was talking. 

Take your time when you're speaking. Blake’s voice once again. 

I caught my breath before speaking again, slower, “Before that I received my bachelor's degree in business management from Clemson University in South Carolina. I graduated super early by having a lot of dual enrollment credits from high school, but also because I took large credit hour semesters pretty much every year.”

I tried looking at all of them the same amount of time, without staring at one of them for too long. It was not easy.

“While I was doing my bachelors, I spent one summer in Las Vegas with the Blue Man Group working as a stagehand, and another summer in Los Angeles as a marketing development intern with Primavera Sound Los Angeles.”

I stopped again, collecting my thoughts, making sure to smile at them to make a good impression. 

“During my masters I was involved in several internships including ones with Broadway as an event manager and Sirius XM as an intern with the marketing department and another with the management department. I’ve been involved in multiple charities and soup kitchens in every one of the states I’ve interned in as well”

“That's a very impressive list of things you've done Kavya.” Calum stated, peering at me over his glasses. “There are a few things that set you apart from the other people we’ve interviewed so far. Your age. I mean… You're, like, younger than us aren’t you?”

The grip on my fingers turned pale so I pulled my hands back under the desk and straightened my posture. “W-well yes.

Calm down.

“While I am younger than the average applicant for this job, there are a multitude of reasons that it could actually be an asset to this business. For one, if I am to take over this position, you all will have a lot more power in your business.”

They all seemed to perk up at this, raising eyebrows or shifting their positions.

“To elaborate, you four have been running this company by yourselves for the past year, and the company in question wouldn't even exist without you. It only makes sense that it's you four that make the big decisions and you need someone to carry it out for you.”

“With all due respect Kavya, that isn’t in the job description,” Michael finally piped up.

All the air left my body and the room fell to silence for a moment.

“It should be.”

“Excuse me?” Michael responded again. 

“The reason for Benjamin Evans' failure was a lack of respect for the people he was working for; you.” Michael relaxed in his chair a little, bringing two fingers to his lips in thought. “You are 5 Seconds of Summer, not your HR, not your management, just you. Your company, your brand should be working for you, not the other way around.”

My cheeks flare up in a bit of anger, remembering the sad lyrics that exposed Evans’ abuses. “I read the lyrics of the leaked song,” The men stared at one another, “You should have never experienced that much pain in something you should love to do.” 

“So how would you run things differently?” Michael asked. I took a breath, trying to focus my thoughts yet again. “I would let you guys have far more freedom, financially, and socially. The way you've been running the company the past year can be tweaked to be more to your liking and comfort. I would never ask you to hide who you are as people from your fans or the public. Your relationship can be public as well as your other endeavors. I would never pay paparazzi to find you in order to create a scandal to bring more attention. I would circulate the finances better in order to focus on benefiting the company rather than benefiting myself. We would be able to book more and better venues rather than places that you may feel uncomfortable with, and we would overall be able to be more honest with your fans.”

“I basically want to let you guys do what you want, while keeping your brand successful.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, flicking between looking at me, each other, and the papers with my information in front of them. 

“You're 22.” Luke finally spoke after a painful amount of time. “Are you sure you're 22?”

Ashton and Calum giggled quietly, causing me to smile as well, “Yes, I’m sure.”

“This is a very impressive application, and your vision for the band's future is different from anything we've seen thus far.” Ashton said, a smile still on his face, “I do have to say though, I’m not sure it is what we’re looking for.”

My heart plummeted. “We really need to talk about how this would work, given that we are in a very precarious position and we’re not sure how much change we can handle before we drown in our finances.” Ashton continued, “We just really need to talk about it. Please don't think we’re just flat out saying no, that's not the case at all.”

Calum and Luke gave me a reassuring smile, while Michael stacked my papers and put them in a folder. 

“We will call you sometime in the next two weeks and we will let you know about your employment status. We will either call to inform you that we will be denying your application or if we need another interview, sounds good? I would say give us 10 days. We will call regardless of whether or not you got the job. It’ll likely be Ashton that calls.” Michael informs me, giving a quick smile, looking at the rest of his bandmates. “Thank you very much Ms. Dawson,” Luke stood and shook my hand again, “Please send in the next person okay?”

I slowly stood up, questions flooding my brain, but I shoved them down. It didn’t work. 

I turned to walk out the door as I heard them talk about the next applicant that would be on the other side of the door. 

“Oh Kavya, one last question,” I heard Ashton call once again. I spin on my heels a little too quickly, and my pony tail slaps the side of my cheek. “Given your age, I have to ask, are you a fan of us?”

“Oh, um…” I blush furiously, “A little bit yeah, I mean you guys are pretty popular.”

Lie

“That means she's a mega fan, lads,” Luke smirks as the color drains from my face. “W-what? No, I-”

“Have a good day Kavya!” The band laughs as I turn quickly and shut the door behind me. 

I stand for a moment facing the door, trying to calm myself down. 

I turn around after a moment and come face to face with a man's chest. “O-oh you must be the next applicant,” I stutter out. The man brushes past me and opens the door, pretty much ignoring my existence. 

What a dick.

I make my way to the elevator pressing my hands to my cheeks trying to get rid of a bit of the warmth. That was so stressful, scary, exciting, and amazing, all at the same time.

I practically fly out of the building, desperately needing to get to the quiet of my car to fully process the emotions I’m feeling.

The second my phone connects to the car, a familiar melody loudly blasts at me.

And if the skyscrapers tumble down and crash around baby, We just gotta get out, we just gotta get out.

I frantically turn the volume down by pressing and hitting random buttons until it stops. 

A little bit of a fan, Kavya, really?

[theloveoftoms]

The Proposal - Rooster x reader

Summary: Your boyfriend rooster has plans to propose, and the day of, you decide to do a crazy stunt and end up loosing connection with the tower, leaving rooster worried for your whereabouts. Will rooster's proposal go as planned?

Request: (summarized) from the wonderful @tinfoilhat2719 "hey! could you write something where the reader and rooster are dating and he plans to propose. the reader is a pilot and one day decided to do a crazy stunt in the air, and of course rooster gets worried. when she lands...." (you will see;))

A/N: Well, I watched top gun: maverick again yesterday, and when I say I sobbed, I SOBBED. I got this request a couple days ago, and i've been busy working away at it since - sorry it took so song, i've been so busy these last few days with prep for visiting my uni this weekend (with me luck lol). I am in-love with rooster now, so enjoy this story that is chaotic but fun :) also, i'm not a professional pilot, so enjoy me trying to describe this flight maneuver lol. I LOVE YOU ALL xoxo - Mackenzie :) (ps, the readers call sign is "Shadow").

Wordcount: 4.8k

"You got a ring and everything?" maverick asked, looking at a small blue box in the palm of roosters hand, "when the hell did you get so grown up?"

rooster flashed him a quick grin and then opened the box to show him the faded gold band, with a sparkling diamond in the centre and two smaller ones on either side. the ring was gorgeous and classy in an old fashioned type of way, and that was the perfect thing for his girlfriend, or should we say, soon to be fiancé??

As rooster slipped the box back into the pocket of his jeans, the air between him and maverick fell silent. "Do you have any advice on this sort of thing?" he asked maverick, who's definition of commitment was a three month long fling involving motorcycle rides, steamy kisses (and rounds of forceful sex) , and singing along to the songs on the radio.

"Rooster," he said, putting a hand on the young pilots shoulder, "I'm not the best at this kind-of stuff." Rooster looked away, unsure of why he asked anyways. Maverick noticed and spoke up, "Look at me, it took me thirty years to finally realize that penny was all I had ever wanted in life. And we both know you're way smarter than that."

Roosters lips curled up sideways into a smirk, "You got that right pop."

Any time someone - particularly one of his students, - would refer to maverick as 'pop' or 'old man' they would get a light slap on the shoulder, and maverick would put on a show about how he hated being referred to as a senior. But whenever rooster call him that, his heart (yes, maverick has a heart) would swell a tiny bit just to know that Bradley thought of him as a father figure. And hell, he was here right now asking him for advice on his proposal.

"You're a great guy Bradley," maverick begun, "and y/n's a great girl. the two of you make quite the pair!"

Rooster grinned, fumbling the wallet sized photo of y/n that he kept in his flight suit pocket. It was a photo of you on the beach, yes, that beach. The one beach in Italy that was a favourite spot of yours, where you would spend hours walking the sand and swimming in the sea with your lover. The portrait was of you in an airy white linen shirt, a pair of shorts, and your sun-kissed hair was messily kept beneath one of Bradley's baseball caps. A smile, glowing brightly on your face. The sort of smile that came after a bought of laughter; the sort of smile in which your eyes turned up, and your nose was crinkled. The sort of smile that was only found on your face whenever rooster was near.

"I wish I had more experience in this type of thing," maverick said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "but man, when you have it, you have it."

"And hey," maverick said patting rooster on the back, "You'll be a great husband. Anyone who has you in their life is lucky, because rooster, you are one of the best people I know."

...

"Are you going up today?" phoenix asked, tucking one final bobby pin in her dark hair.

"Yeah," you said, "I'm thinking about trying out a new maneuver."

Phoenix, one of the only other female pilots on base, and your wild roommate, always was keen on hearing about your latest plans to spice things up in the sky. "Really?" she asked, eyes bright, "I want to hear all about it!"

So, on your afternoon walk to the flight depot, you told phoenix everything. Every gruelling detail, and little insignificant note was spilled, and phoenix was glad to hear it. "That is so badass," she said after you told her about your plans, "I haven't even tried the cobra yet!"

You tucked a loose strand of hair back into your bun and grinned, "Hey," you said, smirking, "I can be your wingman anytime."

Phoenix laughed, having picked up on the saying that was often bounced around Captain Mitchell and Admiral Kazanzky, some inside joke of theirs from their old days at top gun??

"If I did that with bob in the back, he would never forgive me," phoenix said, putting on her favourite pair of aviators, "I love him to death, but he is so work driven that sometimes he forgets to have fun."

You were glad that you flew solo, just you and your f-18 up in the sky. It also worked whenever you wanted to try something new, because with a bask seater, you have someone else to think about as opposed to just yourself and your jet.

"Be safe up there Shadow," phoenix said, giving you, her friend and flat-mate a squeeze on the shoulder, "I wanna see you for drinks later tonight."

You grinned, "Count me in."

...

At the flight depot, you saw your boyfriend rooster standing there, all suited up in his flight gear which was identical to yours. "Hi," you said, walking over, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Hey," he said, putting his arm around you, grinning at your sight, "Going up soon?" he asked.

You nodded, taking your aviators from the pocket of your t-shirt and putting them properly on, "I'm doing the flight by point Loma today, then the circle loop around generals bay."

Rooster nodded, "I was out early this morning, so its just a fun afternoon of paperwork for me," he smirked.

"I'm thinking about trying a new maneuver," you said brightly.

Rooster shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, "God," he sighed, rolling his eyes as he laughed, "You and your crazy stunts. Your just like maverick!"

You laughed, "well, he was one of my first instructors!"

The clock on the wall read 5:35, it was time to get going, after all, you had booked the 5:45 flight slot.

"I gotta go babe," you said, squeezing roosters shoulder, "Listen for me on the radio if you'd like. It might make your paperwork more interesting!"

Rooster always listened to the radio when you were up in the air. Even before the two of you begun dating, rooster always listened to the radios, back at top gun, even back in flight school where the two of you had first met.

One day in the cafeteria when you were trying to buy a protein bar from the vending machine, the machine wouldn't take your quarters, and lucky for you, rooster was behind you and offered his one dollar bills instead. He got you the snack and instead of taking your change like you had insisted, he opted to hear about the cobra maneuver - which you had just tried the day before, and nearly succeeded - instead.

The two of you became friends and one night at the bar, a drunken almost-kiss lead for unfamiliar feelings for the both of you, which you were forced to face the next day in class when you were assigned a task together.

"About last night," rooster had said, stopping in the corridor outside the classroom, "I'm not sure how you felt about that, but um," he paused, unsure of what to say next.

But then you and your smart mouth interjected, "I like you too rooster."

The two of you had laughed and then arranged a date, and since then, the two of you - despite the jobs taking place an oceans away- have remained close and very much in love.

"Just, be safe up there," rooster said, kissing your temple, "alright?"

You gave him a nod, "You got it lieutenant Bradshaw!"

After doing all of the necessary and required pre-flight checks, the sound of your f-18 roaring to life was like music to your ears. Although, it was a rather gruff sound, that at times could be quite gruelling to listen to due to the power of the dual engines, but it served as a reminder of how hard you had worked to find your place as a naval aviator. Another reminder, one that made you incredibly pleased, was the sticker bearing your name "y/n "Shadow" y/l/n" beneath the canopy that you grinned at each time you stepped into your aircraft.

It wasn't always the easiest thing being a female in a male-dominated career, but your name on this lustrous aircraft proved it was all worth it, now if only the pricks who thought that you didn't belong could agree. The hurtful truth is that no matter how far you got in the navy, there would always be one person with a snide remark for you, always one who would choose to loathe you based on your gender, always one who would go out of their way to make you feel as if you didn't belong. It was hard at first, but after you got a feel for who supported you, and wanted you to succeed, work was more enjoyable than it had been before.

A woman's voice from the tower filled your ears; those four little words that made your heart swell, "All go for takeoff." And with a big groan of force courtesy of the throttle, you were barreling fast and hard down the runway, and before you knew it, you were up in sky, pulling 3g's right off the get go.

The gravitational force sent you back into your seat, a feeling that excited you although you were used to by now. You remembered at first, when you were learning how to fly, the feeling that would accompany takeoff. The feeling that your eyes were going to fall back into your head, and that your legs were being pushed away behind you. The coat of sweat and the tremors that would accompany the first pull into the sky. From time to time, you still found yourself getting nervous, but the more that you thought about being up in the sky, the less the impending thoughts seemed to bother you.

The sky seemed especially blue today, and the clouds were few but gorgeous. "On your six Shadow," Payback said through the microphone, singling that he was behind you as expected.

Usually, when you were just going up for a flight, the commander would send another jet, just to have two eyes and ears checking out the sky. You weren't looking for anything in particular but instead just practicing and maintaining your flight techniques. Today, your wingman was Payback, and his wso, Fanboy.

"Copy payback," you said, turning in your seat, glancing back at the fellow f-18 behind you.

"On the way back, theres something I want to try," you said, grinning.

In the other jet, coyote was shaking his head and payback was smirking, "Another one of your stunts shadow?" he asked lightly.

"Affirmative," you replied, now soaring over point Loma.

"Hey," payback begun, "at least its us and not Yale and Juno flying with you today. They hate that sort of stuff."

"Not us though," payback said, giving you his support, "we love the show!"

"why are you waiting until the end?" fanboy asked, clipping on his mask into the side of his helmet.

Good question? why am I waiting until the end of the flight to do my trick?

"How about I do it at generals bay?" you asked, "Give the people on the beach a bit of a show?"

Payback laughed, "No one flys like you do Shadow."

Generals bay approached quicker than you had expected, and a glaze of sweat was beginning to coax your brow. You felt the sweat along the back of your neck, the wispy ends of your bun messily tangled in your helmet. God, its hot today.

You made the loop around the point, and on your way back north, payback and fanboy flew up beside you. "The stage is all yours Shadow," payback said, fanboy in the back giving you a hearty thumbs up.

The 'stage' or in this case, the clear clear almost-evening sky, was wide open for you, ready for your stunt.

So, giving the jet just a bit more gas, pulling the throttle back ever so slightly, you climbed higher in the sky, and then once at your satisfied altitude, you tilted the front of your jet to a near vertical descent, the water looking very blue beneath you.

You felt yourself catch on the straps of your seat belt as your altitude began to drop, now it was time for the main attraction.

Plummeting towards the ground, you manoeuvred the jet in a spiral pattern, resembling a corkscrew type of wave, moving the control so the spiral turns would pull even more g's than usual. A wave of thrill rushed over you as you approached the earth, the altitude giving you a play by play, each number being read aloud by the automated voice, "15,000, 14,000, 13,000."

When the automated voice screeched that you were around 7,000 feet, you pulled up, but not in the traditional sense. You levelled off your jet to go at a straight line, but however, you were inverted, still facing the ground, the blood rushing to your head, a feeling you thrived to feel when upside down in a jet. At first it was disorienting, but after your third and fourth time upside down, you get used to it.

"How was that boys?" you asked your wingmen, "Like the inverted flying?"

Payback hollered into the radio and fanboy laughed. "There's no one who flys like you y/n," said fanboy.

"Well, maybe except mav!" Payback said.

"One last thing," you said, puling the jet up, now you were going sparing into the sky, speeding beside the other f-18, making payback grip the controls just a bit firmer than he had before.

"What the hell!" Fanboy shouted, but you could tell he wasn't mad, due to his laughter.

You brought the jet just a bit higher and then did a sort of loop in the sky, one that was quick in speed with high velocity. As you completed the loop, going upside down, facing the ocean for the third time today you felt a rush of adrenaline pump through your veins.

As you were finishing off the the loop, a light began to flash on the dashboard at a rapid pace, "left engine." Then a god awful noise, that started off as a murmur, but grew into something loud and rumbling came from the back of the plane. "Payback," you said clearly through the radio, "There's something wrong with one of the engines!"

And just as you were levelling off, the radio made a loud shrill and then a crackling pop, and radio silence filled your helmet. You tired turning it back on, playing with the main radio in the jet, but it was no use, the light for the radio was dead.

"Fuck," you said aloud, the sweat coming hot and fast, making a glossy film over your skin, "I've gotta get back."

Noticing the check-engine light for the left side was flashing more rapidly now, you did what you were taught, and attempted to re-generate it, in hopes of it turning back on. At first, there was some hope, and that same gurgling sound from the back of the jet, but then a cloud of smoke was released into the sky, and you knew that your left engine would likely not turn back on.

Without dual engines, it was rather difficult to keep up with payback and fanboy, who were now long ahead. Even as you followed them from behind, you found it difficult to keep an eye on them as they barrelled along the pattern.

You tried another switch on the dashboard to try to get the radio back on, and for a second it worked, and you were able to scream out, "Request to land immediately, mayday, mayday," but with the static cutting in and out, it was hard to tell what the people in the tower could hear. As you tried again, flipping the switch, the lights on the dash all went dim, something was seriously wrong with your jet.

"No, no, no, no, no," you repeated to yourself as you tried any switch that would flip.

Back at the base, after hearing the stunt play out through the radio, rooster had attracted quite the crowd in the office room. A terrible feeling filled his head, and his heart was pounding once he heard the radio fall silent on your behalf. "y/n!" he said, grabbing the small box in-between both hands, and then he took off into the flight depot, to go find a commander.

On his way there, he ran into maverick, who was alarmed to see him pass by in such an alarmed state. "Rooster?" he asked, seeing him run by in a blur, "What's going on?"

Rooster stopped hastily, looking at the captain with wide, scattered eyes that couldn't seem to focus on anything in particular. Beads of sweat on his forehead, and that same nervous look on his face that presented itself every so often when rooster was particularly stressed or anxious.

Maverick recalled when Bradley was young, that same look - the one with the slightly raised brow and tucked lips, and trembling eyes that always seemed to drift from surface to surface - that usually seemed to present itself before a major baseball game or right before a math test that he hadn't studied for. Even after all of these years, whenever rooster was distraught, he still looked at him with those same wondering eyes as when he was a child.

"Its y/n!" Bradley said, "She did some stunt and theres a problem with her engine. We've lost all contact with her. No one knows where she is."

"But weren't payback and fanboy up there with her?" he asked.

"Yeah, but last I heard, they were ordered to land immediately," Bradly said, looking around for a commander or admiral, anyone with power who could help with the matter.

Then in the corner, the short greying commander Hinton, was sipping his evening coffee. "Commander Hinton!" Bradley shouted, running over to the old man, maverick following suit.

As Bradley begun to speak, his words coming out all slurred and jumbled, Commander Hinton hushed him, "Lieutenant," he said calmly, but when rooster carried on, telling him things he already knew, Hinton said it more harshly, "Lieutenant!" which made the pilot straighten his posture and take a step back beside maverick.

"All we can do is wait and see if she makes it back," the commander said dryly, leaving maverick to chase after rooster who was already in the process of running towards the airstrip.

...

There it was, the runway, the one you were incredibly glad to see, thankful that you were paying attention during takeoff to remember where you were scheduled to land.

The sky was now glowing in hues of golden orange, a heavenly shade of the tropics that you rarely got the chance to fly in. Usually, after a day of flying, the last thing you wanted to do was land, but tonight, after the flight you've had, you were more than relieved to see the landing strip.

The lights on the tarmac were flashing in a particular sequence, showing you where to go and when to do it. Having no radio connection to the tower made it tricky to land. You mainly were worried about another jet trying to land at the same time as you were, but when you finally touched down and parked in your designated stall, you could finally breathe.

You opened the canopy and descended the steps. Taking your first few steps on the concrete, your legs felt wobbly and unsure as you removed your helmet, setting it below the leg of your aircraft. A sigh escaped your lips, you were finally back down on earth.

From the main building, you could see rooster running out towards you at a rapid pace, his dark hair blowing in the wind, and the gorgeous night time sun reflecting on his skin. God, he's so handsome.

Approaching you, rooster's sprint slowed down to a jog and then later an abrupt halt, gasping for air, looking at you with his foggy eyes, displaying an unreadable emotion.

"What the hell was that?" he gasped in an distraught tone.

Rooster rarely raised his voice, especially at you, what was the matter with him? did something happen while I was up in the sky?

"What do you mean?" you replied firmly, "I landed the jet like normal!"

Rooster grunted, pinching that spot at the base of his neck that always seemed to collect stress, his arms flexing tightly in his black t-shirt. "No, y/n," he spat, "That stunt. What the fuck was that! You disappeared from the radio!"

The force of the moment found its way into your veins, making your chest feel tight and head growing hazy. You rolled your eyes, taking a step towards your boyfriend, "God rooster, I had it all under control."

A stout laugh escaped his lips, "Did you?" he hissed.

"Yes Bradley, I did!" you replied harshly, "I value my plane very much, and I took every precaution necessary to land safely!"

"You and your stunts," rooster said hotly, shaking his head, "You're so reckless, do you know that?!" Now he was staring at you, intensely, urgently, his eyes were pressed to yours.

You nodded, stepping forward's rooster, "Yeah, I do! But I don't know why you're so mad at me?"

Rooster stepped back, letting a breath escape his lips, his face red and blotchy from anger, "Fuck y/n," he said angrily, "You could have fucking died up there!"

"But I didn't. I didn't die, and I'm right here on the landing strip fighting with you."

"God shadow," rooster said, calling you by your call sign, still fuming, although now more relaxed, "What the hell would have happened if we were married? Your decisions could have killed you."

married? hold on a minute, what did he just say?

"Married?!" you shouted, arms flailing in the air, "What the hell are you talking about rooster?"

Arms shaking, rooster shoved his hand into the pocket of his dark green trousers and pulled out a small blue box - a ring box. He opened it, flipping the top up with his opposite hand, showing it to you, "This, y/n!" he shouted, showing you the gold ring he had picked out last month, "I was going to propose tonight!" he said urgently.

You looked at rooster with quiet eyes, not making a sound, your mouth falling open from the shock of it all. did rooster just say that he was going to propose?

Your eyes scattered down to the ring box, how it was held gently in roosters strong hands. "Rooster," you said gently, "You were going to ask me to marry you?"

Rooster nodded, closing the box, "Yeah. I had it all planned out. We were going to walk down to the beach and just as the sun was about to set, maverick was going to do a fly-by in his p-51, and," he paused shutting his eyes, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that stuff to you. God, I've just been so fucking nervous lately."

You took a step forward, taking one of roosters hands gently in yours, "Rooster," you spoke, voice trembling, "I'm sorry for what I said."

He shook his head, "don't be, I overreacted. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"No," you said, "I should be more careful, and I'm glad you care enough to tell me that. I did over-do it tonight."

"This whole thing was a disaster," Bradley said, looking down at the box.

"You really meant what you said?" you asked, "You wanted to marry me?"

Rooster looked up, meeting your eyes, "I want to marry you y/n."

He held your hands in his, "I want to know what its like to wake up with you beside me every day of my life. I want to spend all of my time with you y/n, because I love you, every part of you, even your reckless stunts!"

"You're the most important person to me, and I don't want to loose you," he said, eyes misty, looking at you, only you.

If rooster wouldn't have brought his hand up to the side of your cheek to wipe the tears streaming down your face, you wouldn't have realized that you were crying. God, you of all people, didn't think you would be capable of crying at your own proposal.

"What are you saying rooster?" you asked, smiling gently, already sure you knew what he was going to say next.

"I'm asking, shadow," Bradley said, grinning, "Will you marry me?"

As another fat tear rolled down your cheek, a smile spread across your face. You nodded, throwing your arms around Bradley, "Yes. I would love to marry you!"

It felt so good to have your boyfriend's, fiancé's arms around you, his hands on your back holding you tightly towards his body. You were consumed by his scent, the way it filled your head and suddenly brought you home. You loved the way strong arms were holding you, and the way he smiled into your hair. "I love you," he whispered into your ear.

"I love you too," you repeated, your tears getting sopped up in rooster's tee-shirt.

You looked to rooster with eyes of salt, and brought your lips up to his. And there the two of you stood on the tarmac, kissing. The kiss was long and slow and made electricity buzz through your veins in a sweet low tone. No matter how many times he had kissed you, each time it felt new and entrancing.

When you broke the kiss, Bradley brought back out the ring box, concentrating with tears in his eyes, as he took the gold band out of the tan cushion it was held in. You held out your your hand, wriggling your wedding finger as rooster shakily slid the band up and over your knuckle. It was a perfect fit, it was made exactly for you.

You held your hand closer to your face and looked at the ring. The diamond shone brightly in the evening sun, and it looked gorgeous on your hand, nearly too beautiful to belong to a fighter pilot!

You grinned brightly at rooster, looking up from the ring, "I can't believe we're engaged," you said, looking around, the moment finally setting in, "Oh my god! we're engaged!" you screamed.

Bradley grinned, picking you up in his arms, which earned a squeal from you, "Bradley! Put me down!" you laughed to your fiancé who was carrying you towards the flight depot, one arm supporting your back, the other beneath your legs. As Bradley waded forward, the two of you couldn't stop grinning and gazing at one another.

Under one of the canopies where rooster had carried you to, all of your friends (that were pilots and wso's) were there, clapping and cheering for you.

Rooster set you down, and then put his arms around you, brining you into a hug from behind. "Everyone," he said to the other pilots and crew, gathering their attention, "We have something exciting to tell you!"

You grinned, looking up at Bradley, who'e eyes were beaming, "I think they already know rooster!"

"You guys are getting married!" phoenix said excitedly, bring you in for an an embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around your torso.

"We saw the whole thing go down on the tarmac," bob said, giving rooster a pat on the shoulder, "Congratulations!"

Just as you were showing your colleagues the gorgeous band that rooster had picked out especially for you, there was a loud noise in the sky. You looked up, it was a jet!

Up in the sky, one of the f-18's was doing a fly-by, soaring loudly and quickly over the depot. You looked to rooster and exchanged a glance, "Maverick," you agreed.

I guess part of rooster's plan did go as expected, it was during the hours of sunset, and maverick flew overhead, although it wasn't his stunning p-51 and just an ordinary f-18, the moment was perfect, and you were one step closer to spending the rest of your life with the most important and wonderful person, rooster, the love of your life.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Seven // Wanda Maximoff

chapter six | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eight

author’s note: hope y’all like this one 👀

The Maximoffs were just as a good at throwing a party as my own parents were.

Celebrating a new book that was published at Pietro's business, they threw a party in their back garden big enough to host half the town if they wanted to. Actually, now that I thought about, half the town was probably there.

We were invited to celebrate along with them because we were 'family' now, as Oleg and Iryna pointed out, so I found myself standing in their garden getting a drink under the night sky and trying to blend in with the snacks table so I wouldn't have to mingle. Parties still weren't my thing, clearly.

People-watching was more my forte. It was amazing the things people did when they thought nobody was looking. One guy coughed into his hand and wiped it on his pants – I reminded myself not to shake his hand – whilst some woman checked if her teeth were clean on the back of a serving tray.

My gaze raked the garden, indifferent to the men who attempted to get women's attention with a boyish grin and terrible pick-up lines, or the women who lifted their dresses a little higher than necessary to steal a man's attention. I spotted my parents talking to some guests whom I'd never see before, then there was Wanda's parents laughing alongside Pietro as he told a joke to some important looking people.

Eventually, my eyes fell to the remaining Maximoff, who was looking especially beautiful tonight. A deep lilac gown adorned her figure and she wore it like it was uniquely made just for her. She probably didn't even realise, but all eyes were definitely on her; a simple stride around the garden had people turning heads to see who the lilac beauty was. Y/B/N was the most envied man of the evening, with every guy here wishing they could have Wanda on their arm.

I'd wanted to tell her just how truly stunning she looked tonight, but I hadn't been able to pull her away from my brother's side for even a second. Everywhere he went, she went, too. I'd caught her eyes maybe three times tonight since she was so involved with whatever she spoke about with the people who worked for Pietro. I didn't take it personally of course, but it didn't make me feel any better.

Y/B/N had his hands all over her, probably suspecting just how many people were checking her out tonight, and I hated the way it made me feel. Envy and jealousy came over me and it wasn't pleasant. His hand was permanently fixed on her waist, at times moving suspiciously lower and making me roll my eyes. Occasionally, he'd lean over and whisper something in her ear making her flush – involuntarily or not, I didn't know. Wanda was a good actress, appearing as the perfect fiancé to him and couple to everybody else. Or, at least, I hoped it was acting.

"Pretty ladies shouldn't be standing by their lonesome," said someone with a Sokovian accent, but sadly not the one I wanted to hear.

"Pietro," I said with an amused smile, turning to face the man of the evening. "Congratulations on the new published book!"

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Y/N. How are you finding the party?"

I glanced around, disguising my discomfort with a nod. "It's great."

He chuckled, as if suspecting that was a lie, before changing the subject. "So, the book. Have you read it?"

Glad that this was something I could actually talk about, my shoulders relaxed and I nodded. "Yes! I bought it yesterday as soon as it was published. I've only read the first six chapters, but what I've read is beautifully written."

Pietro snickered, raising his brows. "Only? That's further than anyone here has read."

I smiled bashfully, eyes veering elsewhere with embarrassment. "I guess I just have a lot of free time."

He hummed with amusement. "And you must really like reading... Wanda mentioned you write, too. It's nice to know it runs in the family."

Certain my cheeks were flushed, I nodded. "Yeah, our dad, he taught Y/B/N and I how to write when we were kids. That's where my love of literature began."

"And what do you like to write?" he asked, intrigued.

I shrugged, the grip on my glass of champagne loosening as I grew comfortable. "I don't know... short stories, drabbles, novels. I mainly deal with themes of love and romanticism. We're so intent on leading our lives with what other people want that we rarely take time to think about we want... I write about that."

Swallowing, I looked to Pietro, hoping I wasn't boring him. He was a publisher after all, besides my soon-to-be brother-in-law. His opinion was important to me.

"I must admit, Y/N, my interest is piqued," he admitted, watching me with an inquisitive gaze. "Do you have anything I could read?"

"It's probably better than it sounds," I said dismissively, knowing this was just small talk.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt that. You shouldn't say such things. You never know, you could be my next signed author."

I tried not to laugh. "Nice try, Pietro."

He smiled widely. "What? I'm serious!"

Tilting my head towards him knowingly, I sighed. "We both know that can't happen."

He was grinning now, clearly entertained by my unamused expression. "Says who?"

I motioned around us with my drink. "Says everyone? The world we live in?"

He began to list authors on his fingers as he said, "Jane Austen. Emily Bronte. Mary Shelley. Louisa May Alcott. Dare I name more?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said, pushing his hand down and rolling my eyes at his smug expression. "But I can promise you that all of those women fought tooth and nail to get published. Their families probably weren't as accepting as they wanted them to be. There's still people now who talk about how unprofessional and lacklustre their works are. They didn't have it easy. Still don't. And don't even get me started on the reputation side of things for you... d'you know how much backlash you'd get for signing a woman?"

Pietro shrugged, sipping his drink, before saying casually, "I only care about talent, Y/N. And if you have even a quarter of the talent your brother does, then I'm happy to go from there."

I quirked a brow, trying to gauge if he was pulling my leg or not. But the kind eyes looking back at me suggested he may not have been. Either way, the idea of actually being published – something I'd been dreaming of since I was a kid – was enough to raise my suspicions and make me shake my head.

"Thanks for listening, Pietro," I said conclusively, hoping he got the hint.

He nodded, accepting my word, thankfully. "Anytime. Hopefully this isn't the end of this conversation, though."

I cracked a smile, knowing it was but giving him the benefit of the doubt. He pursed his lips, glancing around briefly before attempting to hide an amused smile.

"What are you smiling at?" I teased, nudging him in the arm slightly.

His eyes met mine, sparkling with mischief. "You've probably not noticed, but as we've been speaking, almost everyone in this garden has looked our way."

I cocked my head with confusion, smile still present. He nodded subtly, eyes flickering to the right, so I followed his gaze and inconspicuously looked around. He was right, as murmurs of gossip escaped people's lips, their eyes trying to get a good look at the two of us. Even our parents were looking our way, no doubt discussing our future wedding affair.

"Wow," I breathed out, trying not to laugh as I looked back to him. "You'd think they'd have something better to do."

He leaned in, muttering, "Wanna give them a show?"

My eyes flickered between his, seeing that roguish charm of his come to life. I couldn't resist his mischievous attempt to piss off our parents, so of course I nodded with a stifled laugh.

"Care to dance, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, a little louder than he needed to, attracting more attention.

I grinned, grateful for the idiot that was Pietro. He was already making my evening ten times better than it was.

Resting my hand in his outstretched one, I nodded. "Thank you, Mr Maximoff."

I barely had chance to put my glass down before he led me to the area before the live band that was strumming a lovely upbeat ballad. We joined the other couples that were also having a dance, unbothered by their nosey stares.

Bowing dramatically, he smiled and I curtsied before resting a hand on his shoulder and the other in his. He rested a hand on my waist respectfully before a grin spread across his lips and he began to dance me around everybody else, way too fast for me to keep up.

"Pietro!" I exclaimed between fits of laughter, trying not to trip over my feet or his.

"You said we could dance," he answered simply, before spinning me around.

My eyes went dizzy as he dipped me, making me laugh joyfully. For the first time all night, I was having fun. When he pulled me up, his eyes motioned to the left of us.

"D'you think our parents have already picked the wedding venue?" he teased.

"Definitely," I said with a nod, before shoving him back slightly. "But you, mister, need to slow down. You're like a speedster with the dancing. We should call you Quicksilver."

He laughed, continued to dance me around but much more slower this time. "I like that. You're clever. I can see why Wanda has taken a liking to you."

I knew he didn't mean it like that, but my heart dropped to my stomach anyway. A hearty chuckle escaped his lips as he noticed my expression. Thankfully, he didn't question it and we continued to make a fool of ourselves for a few more songs before taking a break by the snacks table.

"You're an idiot," I told Pietro as we caught our breath, but a delighted smile was on my lips. "You know you've probably convinced our parents that we're a couple now, right?"

"Hey, you're the one who started to fluff my hair like you loved me!" he retorted with humoured eyes.

"Because you're just so darn cute!" I mocked him, before moving forward and going in to fluff his hair yet again.

He attempted to smack my hand away as he said, "Hands off the hair, Y/L/N! I styled it perfectly!"

Grabbing my wrists, he held me back and I tried not to cry with laughter at the expression on his face.

"Such a child," I decided, pulling my hands away. "Whatever happens from here on out is definitely your fault."

He scoffed, as if ready to refute that fact, but before he could say anything, my brother's voice was heard.

"It's nice to see you actually conversing with people for a change, but maybe not my publisher."

Pietro and I turned and saw Y/B/N and Wanda approaching us. My brother seemed entertained by Pietro and I, looking between us with pre-conceived ideas that we may have already fancied each other, just like everyone else had tonight. Wanda, meanwhile, was watching me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"He's good company, what can I say?" I joked, returning my brother's smile.

"Oh?" He raised a brow, knowing look in his eyes.

I rolled my own, trying not to laugh at his insinuation. There was no point trying to convince him otherwise.

"I was just giving Y/N here the best evening ever since she was moping around in the corner," Pietro explained nonchalantly, making me smack his arm.

"I was not moping!" I defended myself.

He shrugged, ghost of a smile on his lips. "Whatever you say."

I gave him a playful glare before focusing my attention to the couple before us.

"As lovely as it is to see whatever this is," my brother continued to make things awkward as he motioned between us, "I came to get Pietro. Someone from the press is here and has questions about the book."

At the mention of this, Pietro straightened up and neatened his bow tie, flashing my brother his most confident smile. "Lead the way, Y/B/N."

After assuring Wanda he'd be back in a second, Y/B/N let go of her waist and guided Pietro to the members of the press. Glad that he'd finally left her side, I looked to Wanda with a soft smile.

"Hey," I said quietly, glancing around before saying what I'd wanted to say all night. "You look radiant tonight, Wanda." 

Unexpectedly, she crossed her arms and pressed her lips together firmly. "How was your dance with Pietro?"

Her green eyes, literally green with envy, watched me with distaste. It didn't take long for me to recognise that familiar jealousy entwined in her expression because it was probably the same way I looked when she was with my brother. For some reason, this made me smile with amusement.

"He's a very good dancer," I said, half truthful and half trying to poke fun.

She wasn't amused. "Yeah, everybody saw. You've been all over him."

I covered my mouth, trying very hard not to laugh. "I mean, he's pretty funny to be around. I can totally see why everybody wants us to get married."

Her jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"C'mon, it's a joke," I said lightheartedly, nudging her in the arm. "You know that."

After internally debating whether or not to believe me, she relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. "I know."

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, raising a brow and smiling playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

My smile faded as I searched her eyes. "C'mon. What is it? You know you can tell me."

"Forget it, Y/N," she muttered, avoiding my eyes.

Realising she was still clearly bothered, I sighed dramatically, hoping to lighten the mood. Making sure my voice was low enough for only her to hear, I said, "I only danced with him to annoy our parents. Same with him. He's clearly not interested in me and neither I with him. That's why we get along so well." Teasing her once more, I added, "If circumstances were different, I'd like to think we'd be good friends. He's quite handsome, though I think the good looks are a Maximoff twin thing. Maybe if–"

"I'm in love with you!"

I paused, blinking, unsure if I'd heard correctly. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked to me with exasperation.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was attracted by her outburst, I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding in my ears as she said what I'd been struggling to accept for the past two months.

"What?" I breathed out, raising my brows with surprise.

She licked her lips, realisation replacing her look of admission. Opening her mouth to say something, she stepped forward, but my brother returned with an oblivious smile on his face and interrupted the moment.

"Wanda, the journalists want a picture of us for their article," he said enthusiastically, returning his arm around her waist and tugging her close, making my skin crawl.

Her gaze lingered on me for as long as she could before looking up to my brother with a halfhearted smile.

"Sure," she agreed reluctantly.

My brother nodded at me before leading Wanda away. She gave me one last look, her eyes trapped with unsaid words, before leaving with him. My mouth went dry as Wanda's words echoed in my mind. She was in love with me. And I knew I was in love with her, too. I had been for a while.

But wouldn't admitting that make this whole thing a lot more complicated?

—

"Will you stop shaking your hand? It's very distracting."

I stopped shaking my hand and gave my mum an apologetic glance before facing the door again. I was extremely eager and nervous to see Wanda again, as I hadn't been able to see her for the rest of the party last night.

Her words were permanently resounding in my mind all night, making it difficult to fall asleep. The reality of our situation had dawned on me and I knew that even though everything would become more difficult between us, I had to tell her that I felt the same way. The last thing I wanted was her panicking that I didn't. Because these last two months loving her in secret were better than anything I'd experienced in my life.

Iryna and my mum had made plans to hang out today, including Wanda and I in the plans without actually telling me until this morning. I didn't mind though as I was hoping it could be an opportunity for us both to finally speak.

The front door opened to reveal Iryna with a bright, inviting smile. She exchanged greetings with us both and ushered us inside instantly. There, waiting, was Wanda, looking as gorgeous as ever. A calm suddenly enveloped me as I looked to her, my heart fluttering in my chest more so than usual. She loved me and that thought alone made me feel giddy inside.

"You must come upstairs to the closet with me," Iryna insisted before I could utter a word to the brunette. "I've been very silly and impulse-ordered a bunch of new dresses. Of course, the only way to fix that is to try them on."

My mother laughed alongside her and the two of them looked to Wanda and I questioningly. I smiled their way, glancing at Wanda, before following them upstairs. Maybe later.

I spent the next hour trying on clothes against my own will, modelling them for Wanda and our mothers awkwardly. Ecstatic, our mothers threw their opinions out at me, but I was barely listening because all I could seem to focus on was a quiet Wanda. I couldn't read her mind for the life of me – she was getting better at hiding how she truly felt.

Wanda also tried some dresses on, still not as enthused as she usually was, but neither of our mothers seemed to take notice. I sat on the lounge sofa alongside them, eyes unable to look away from Wanda as she modelled the dresses. I had no words, my mind hazy and tongue tied as she stole my breath away for the millionth time. She was ethereal.

"...what do you think, Y/N?" Iryna asked, forcing me to look away from Wanda and to her. "She should keep this one, shouldn't she?"

I hummed in agreement, looking back to Wanda, who was avoiding my eyes. "She should. I don't think I've ever seen a dress so perfect for someone before."

Our mothers didn't seem to think much of my comment, but Wanda finally looked up, not ignoring me for the first time since I got here. I offered her a small smile, hoping she could see what I'd been wanting to say to her since last night. But she looked away, chewing on her lip and looking down.

"I'm gonna change," she mumbled, before turning to go back behind the curtain.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the seat. I'd just have to find a spare moment.

Iryna and my mum proceeded to try on a bunch of dresses before we called it a day and were ready to eat lunch.

"I want you to have these, Y/N," Iryna told me as we all stood up, motioning to the pile of dresses on the arm of the sofa. "It's my gift to you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, Iryna, you don't need to give–"

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut me off with a wave of her hand. "You're family now. Anything for my daughter-in-law."

I smiled awkwardly, not missing the eye roll from Wanda, before nodding. "Thanks..."

She looked to her daughter. "Wanda, medovyy (honey), can you help her pack them away and meet Y/M/N and I outside on the patio for some lunch?"

Wanda, having no other choice but to say yes, nodded and forced a smile in her mum's direction. "Sure, mum."

Our mothers fell into conversation as they left the room, finally leaving Wanda and I alone. I released a breath, grateful for the privacy, and looked to the Sokovian in question.

"You okay?" I asked slowly, wanting to find a start before erupting straight into my feelings.

She nodded, nibbling on her lip. She looked like she wanted to say something more, so I watched her patiently.

After a pause, when I thought she may just stay quiet forever, she spoke. "If what I said last night was out of line, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, a smile curling on my lips. "It wasn't. I'm in love with you, too."

Surprised, she finally met my gaze, eyes swirling with confusion. "You are?"

"Of course I am," I said quietly, stepping forward and taking her hands in mine. "I didn't mean to make you jealous last night. Pietro and I were genuinely just hanging out as friends."

She shook her head, eyes flickering between mine. "It doesn't matter about that. Forget it."

I still felt guilty, adding, "I know, but it does matter. I don't want to–"

She pressed her lips to mine quickly, cutting me off. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she tugged me closer with her other hand, making me gasp when my body touched hers. I kissed back, closing my eyes and moving my lips against hers in perfect sync.

I probably could have kissed her all afternoon, but the sound of the door opening made us both jump apart, startled. It was just a servant who was coming in to clean up the room. When she saw us, she gave us a small smile before moving around the room carefully. My eyes fell to Wanda's excited ones, and I smiled at her before nodding to the dresses.

"We should sort this out before they wonder what's taking so long," I told her, moving to pack them.

She nodded, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently before helping me. We packed the dresses in no time before joining our mums out on the patio where they were sat with our lunch. I tried to keep my eyes off Wanda as our mothers spoke to us about God knew what, but it was hard when all I wanted to do was kiss her over and over, telling her just how much I loved her.

"...nice to see you both getting along lately," Iryna was talking, and I only zoned back in when I realised she was looking at me.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Wanda stifled a smile as my mum gave me a disapproving look from across the table.

Iryna didn't seem to mind as she chuckled. "You and Pietro," she continued. "You both seemed very comfortable at the party last night."

I settled on a polite smile. "He's a gentleman. Very nice to be around, I guess."

Iryna smiled knowingly, exchanging glances with my mum before patting Wanda on the forearm, getting her attention. "How does that sound, dear? Your brother and Y/N together?"

I shook my head instantly, realising how she'd taken my words. "That's not what I meant."

Humming in response, Iryna continued to look to her daughter. "You may have to start sharing your new best friend with Pietro."

Remembering Wanda's jealousy last night, I spared her a glance of concern, hoping she wouldn't let this get to her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dimmed with dismay.

"Uh-huh," she played along with her mother's words, before using her fork to pick at her food.

As our mums began to talk about it, I found Wanda's hand under the table and laced my fingers in hers, hoping she'd know I only cared about one person and it was her. Though she didn't look up, her hand tightened around mine and she didn't let go.

The rest of the lunch went by as expected, though the more Iryna and my mother mentioned the wedding, the more Wanda and I grew uncomfortable. It was so much harder to hear about it when I knew my feelings were growing stronger for the brunette every day. By the end of the meal, my mother was happy to go back home and said I could stay to hang out with Wanda, which of course I did.

After bidding her a goodbye, I let Wanda drag me upstairs and to her bedroom, though the door closed when she spun around and pushed me against it, immediately kissing me. Before I could even question what was happening, she pulled away and looked at me through a half-lidded gaze.

"I don't want to share you with my brother, ever," she rasped out lowly, before licking her lips. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

She breathed out, her breath mingling with mine. Her hands rested on my waist before she reattached our lips, moving hers slower and more thoughtfully against mine.

I closed my eyes, grabbing her face and holding her gently, letting her slip her tongue between my lips and play with mine. Then she sucked on my lower lip, teeth nibbling gently at the sensitive skin, and made my insides go warm and fuzzy.

When she let go, she trailed kisses down my jaw and to my neck, having me at her mercy.

"Wanda," I moaned, hand moving to the back of her neck as I tried to regain some control of the situation, but the longer she sucked at the exposed skin, the more my knees wanted to buckle.

Already lowering my dress to my shoulders, her hand untied the back of it and I flushed at the contact of her fingers against me, not used to the feeling but also not opposed.

"Wanda, are you sure?" I asked between bated breaths, attempting to get her attention by tugging at her dress.

She pulled back, hand rising to my jaw and caressing it with her thumb as she looked between my eyes. Hers were dark, clouded with an arousal I hadn't seen before.

"I am," she said with certainty, before asking, "Are you?"

I swallowed hard, the warmth in my core growing hotter as she stared at me with lustful eyes and swollen lips. "Yes."

She gave me a slight smile before pressing her lips to mine again, allowing me to wrap my arms around her neck. I heard her lock the door behind me as I undid the top of her dress, struggling to do so without breaking contact from her. We moved to the bed clumsily, trying not to stumble over our discarded dresses, before I laid her down and straddled her.

Leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck, I felt her fingers grip my waist, keeping ahold of my body on hers. I shivered as her nails scratched gently against the skin and grew warm when she lifted herself up gently to get more comfortable, her clothed centre rubbing against mine.

Taking a breath, I pulled away and hovered over her, revelling in the beauty that was Wanda Maximoff. Her cheeks were dusted pink as she opened her eyes, green eyes sparkling desperately as they flickered between mine.

"I love you," I told her softly, leaning on my elbow and caressing her forehead.

She smiled, nails trailing up my back and sending shivers down my spine. "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

I tried not to laugh as I tilted my head with confusion. She smiled a little wider, hand reaching for the back of my bra.

"I love you, too," she translated in English, hint of amusement in her eyes, before she managed to undo the bra strap.

I rolled my eyes at her attempt of mockery before chasing down her lips once more. Everything about the woman before me was absolute perfection and I was glad I could finally share how I felt about her without having to hide it anymore.

The potential consequences of our actions was not my concern right now... all I cared about was treating her with the respect and care she deserved.

[struggling-with-time]

Crows and Ravens [Wilbur soot x reader]

Paring: Wilbur Soot x Gender Neutral!reader

Summary: Inspired by the song Ravens by Reno Shaw. How the reader deals with the grief and cope with Wilburs death.

Warnings: Angst, grief, death.

Words: 3.1k words

A/N: thank you to @libbynotfound for being my wonderful beta for this <3 also go listen to Reno Shaw, I've been listening to his music on repeat! His Spotify

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You stand on the porch cradling a hot cup of coffee, watching over the snowy Tundra. Enjoying the peace and calm the secluded place brings. While getting used to the cold took a while, it wasn’t long. After all, a warm fireplace is never far off.

You take a sip, as you watch the crows slowly start to gather in the treetop, indicating the return of Phil. Your dead fiancé’s father. Wilbur’s dad.

You moved up here with Technoblade after Wilbur’s death, needing some peace and quiet. While you never truly agreed with Technoblade’s ideologies, yet you longed to get away from the bustling town that only ever seemed to bring hurt to its citizens. So, you left.

Your cottage connected to the other two, now that Phil had moved up here too.

You follow him with your eyes as he breaks free of the surrounding forest. You watch as he puffs out his black wings to shake off the white snow that has fallen on them.

You give Phil a small wave as he notices you watching over the sunset.

“Good morning! You’re out of your bed today. That’s good to see!”

You nod in acknowledgement, never meeting his eyes, as you are back to being fixated on the rising sun.

You listen to the crows as they have now gathered, a constant murder that never seems to leave Phil alone. You don’t question it. You don’t mind the noise they sometimes bring, although you worry for the man who will sometimes speak to them as though they could understand him.

Phil’s door opens and closes, and you suspect he is dropping off the items from his latest adventure into the deep woods.

What surprises you is mere minutes later when it opens again, and he steps out, a cup of tea in his own hands. Clearly indicating to join you on this windless morning.

You take a step aside, and Phil stands beside you.

You can’t help, but feel as though you have to get further away from the man. It’s an itch that is always around when Phil is close to you. Despite being long ago, you still see it for yourself every time you look at the older man.

The sword sticking out of Wilbur’s stomach, as the debris is slowly settling down. Phil holding him.

You didn’t see it happen, but you saw the aftermath. The shell of the man you loved, truly being a mere shell. While he might have walked the tightrope of manic, there was always hope in your heart for the Wilbur you fell in love with coming back. But a dead Wilbur? There was no hope of bringing him back, he was truly gone.

Your gaze never wavering from the sun rising, as it bathes the white Tundra in oranges and reds.

“Phil?”

“Yeah, mate.”

“Do you think he would have liked it here?”

“No, no he wouldn’t. He always craved more, the peace would bore him.”

“I wish he could have experienced it anyway.”

The two of you settle into silence as you empty your now cold cup of coffee, the sounds of the ever-present crows filling the air. Unsaid words hanging low in the air. But thickening it enough, for neither to be able to speak more.

---

You used to love winter, one of the reasons you moved up here. But now it only seems to drag on and on. Coating everything in its white blanket of innocence. Covering the guilty people living here.

Wilbur used to enjoy the spring, he always told you it was his favourite season, as the flowers bloom and gave you a newfound beauty, in his words. You remember, the two of you spending countless hours underneath the old oak tree. Him strumming his guitar until late in the night, as you would tell him the stories you would gather from the patrons at the bar you used to work at as a teenager.

The two of you dreaming up lives you would live when you were older, a cottage on the outskirts of a town he would create. A kitchen overflowing with food and pots and pans. As you would cook for the town’s citizens, living out your own dream of selling your homemade food.

Talking about watching the sunset on a poach, children running around in the backyard. He wanted two boys and a girl, while you wanted one of each. Hoping to pass down his charm and good looks. The feeling of an ever-present happiness high in the air.

An ever-present happiness you would no longer be able to archive now.

Your dreams shattered the day that blade pierced through him. Held by his father, the man you had come to know as the most calming presence you had ever met.

It took you a while to forgive Phil for what he had done.

You watched as he and Technoblade moved on right outside of your cabin. You watched as you couldn’t get out of bed, and the two of them gained new friends and new lives. Envy and anger filling the air of your cabin, fast and suffocating you slowly whenever you’re alone.

You roll over in your bed hoping to be taken back into your dreams, hoping for them to be the good kind like the ones you used to imagine with Wilbur.

Instead, you are dragged right back into your nightmares watching him slowly descending into madness.

---

You look around your kitchen, ever bare from anything. Never really holding food anymore. Scarce of pots and pans, not wanting to be reminded of the dreams you could never achieve. Let alone reach for these days.

You walk right through, heading for your coat and boots. Suiting up before you step into the cold. But as your eyes grace over the second hook, the one that used to hold Wilburs coat. Now empty. Sends a sting through your heart.

Tommy had gotten it from you when he lived with Technoblade after his exile of L’Manberg. You had watched as he stared after it each time he had been into your house.

The house that never quite felt like a home. Not when Wilbur hadn’t been the one to hang the coat there back in the day. But yourself. Hoping that one day he would walk through the door moaning about the cold and having forgotten his coat.

But he never did.

So, you gave it to Tommy. Committing the way his face lit up at the gesture to memory. He looked truly happy for the first time since he had come out to the Tundra.

You shake the feeling of longing off yourself as you head into the cold, letting the ever-present winter clear your head. On a mission to collect wood for Technoblade. He had asked you for logs the other day, and you had promised to get him some.

Although you were suspecting it was a scheme to get you out of bed, and out of your house for a couple of hours. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done so, and you have a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

He had been there for you back when Wilbur and Tommy had created Pogtopia. Wilbur’s second nation, another promise for freedom, that had only seemed to tear the one you loved apart, more than fix him.

The nation acting as a band-aid on a cut so deep it was merely the thought that counted.

You remember watching the stars nearly every night as the cave was cold and unwelcoming whenever Wilbur started drinking. You remember hearing him yell at Tommy, but doing nothing out of fear that he would turn his attention to you. Never before had you been so happy for being neglected by the one you loved.

Technoblade had been there some nights, right beside you, telling you stories of Wilbur before the two of you met, which wasn’t many, but it was enough to fill the air with a hope. A hope that this was but a period to pass, and the one you loved would return to you.

He never did.

You track over the snow and into the forest, following the pathway Techno and Phil have created over the time living here. Right into the clearing that is slowly growing larger as the three of you are slowly cutting the forest down. And now that Ranboo is here too, it’s only growing bigger faster. Another constant change in your life.

Another thing you can’t stop or help, as you watch it deteriorate in front of your eyes.

It takes you most of the day to chop down the wood and cut it into small enough pieces, that you can carry it back to the commune. It takes the rest of your day to carry it all back and leaving it to dry in the shed, which Techno built as one of the first things.

“Dried wood is important, you can’t survive without a fire.”

Back then the commune had been even quieter. Due to yourself having gone through the days in a daze, not talking to anyone after what had happened. It had been the only thing on your mind.

Phil’s sword. Your scream. The emptiness that followed.

Phil had been to one to coax you out of your silence, in the end. With the help of Techno, despite the latter enjoying the silence the Tundra brought.

You watch as nightfall comes, and the mobs start to emerge in the dark.

You know you should be heading inside. But you can’t help but stand on the porch watching out over the night. The stars lighting up the sky and making the darkness feel less lonesome.

You miss the sound of Techno’s door opening. Instead, envying the crows as some of them take off. Wishing to be one of them, no care in the world. Only the world to explore, and never having to feel the hurt of losing someone. Twice.

“Y/n, come on, let's get you inside.”

You nod, following him inside his cabin, smelling the potato soup in the air. Thankful for the warm fireplace that has been lit. It would take hours for your own to warm up your house since you let the fireplace burn out yesterday. You let it burn out yet again.

Neither of you mentions that you found the woodshed over half full. Neither of you mentions that it takes over a month to burn through the shed. Neither of you mentions that you are just working to make your life pass, but living.

---

When you returned home that night, your fireplace was lit. He had done it for you. Not letting you return to a cold and lonely house.

That was the night you pulled out a pan for the first time in a long while.

You stocked your kitchen cabinets with food from a nearby village, and then you rolled up your sleeves.

You work in your own kitchen tirelessly for two days and nights. Feeling your grasp on yourself slipping. But refusing to stop.

Stuck in a living daydream of the domestic life you never got. As uneaten food starts to pile up, and your eyes start to drop. You can feel yourself slipping into a slumber sitting on your kitchen floor. Tears streak down your chin, as you cry out for Wilbur once again.

Phil finds you there, the next morning, concerned for not having seen you out of your house for days. And now even more concerned as he takes in the mess you are living amidst. Half-finished dishes still on the stove, that has burned out. The dinner table filled with dirty kitchenware, and dishes he has never seen before in his life.

Phil makes a decision that morning, that refuses to watch another person he cares for wither away in front of him.

You find yourself from that day off, getting woken up by Phil, asking you to share a cup of tea with him on the porch.

Sometimes Techno joins the two of you. But never often, the man as nocturnal as Wilbur used to be.

You look over the snow once again, as you wish winter is soon to be over. But it never seems to be.

---

You take up painting after this, you aren’t perfect at it, never having done it before. But it helps you keep yourself out of your head, and you enjoy the time you spend on creating artwork.

You remember Wilbur owning a small portrait of his mom made in grey tones, back then you had been worried over the sombre feeling the grey tones gave you. A feeling of fear following the sombreness. A feeling of fear you vowed to never induce in others.

Yet, you find yourself drawn to the grey tones whenever you pick up a paintbrush, and so the sunrise gets recreated in sombre colours, the cabins, Phil and Techno. The pictures aren’t great, but they resemble what they are enough to be recognisable.

But one motive seems to come again and again, although as time moves on, Wilbur seems to fade out from your pictures. In the beginning, he seemed to be in every other one. But now he seems to slowly stop showing his face in them, just as in your dreams.

You start not seeing him everywhere you look.

Your kitchen isn’t as scary to move around in anymore, more days than not, you are having guests in the form of Phil, Techno or Ranboo eating over. You even get to meet Ranboos platonic husband Tubbo and their child.

Tommy comes over from time to another telling you of the stories back from the town that has now taken over L’Manberg.

And Phil lets you meet Ghostbur.

Oh, Ghostbur, another shell of the man you used to love. Neither an empty shell nor a dead one. But a cold smiling one.

You let him into your home. And even if you get teary-eyed every time you look at him and his cheerful attitude. Nobody mentions it.

This is the period where your cold house in the Tundra, started turning into a warm and lived-in home. Although the winter is still raging on outside your window, you are never truly cold on the inside anymore.

You still struggle with getting out of bed on the worst days, still grieving the man you had to first watch wither away in front of you, only to be killed. But you refuse to let it be the thing defining you.

You start accompanying Phil and Techno on some of the adventures, exploring places that aren’t the town you grew up in, or the SMP. You walk through your first jungle, painting a greyscale version as soon as you return home, proudly presenting it on your wall when it’s finished.

You listen to Ghostbur as he tells you about the happy memories the two of you have together. Reminiscing sitting under the old oak tree together.

You still sometimes forget he isn’t Wilbur when he knocks on your door, and you are instead presented with a handful of blue and the translucent guy. Instead of your ex-fiancé. But it gets easier, then more times he shows up.

Whenever he talks, you barely ever escape into your own head anymore. The domestic dream starts to fade, as you replace it with happy memories and people around yourself.

The fireplace never left to burn out in the night anymore.

You start getting up before Phil, greeting him on the porch with tea. You smile at the thought. You never really drink coffee anymore. Not needing the caffeine as the nightmares have stopped being the thing that greets you whenever you lie your head onto your pillow.

The sleepless nights get replaced with peaceful slumber.

While you still see Wilbur in your dreams, it’s no longer the shell of the man in Pogtopia, or the shell Phil held that fateful day.

It’s the one that proposed to you when he started a revolution. It’s the hopeful and idealistic one you remember. The one you grew up with.

While those mornings you are quieter to be around, you no longer let it take over your day. As of now, you have a life to live. Truly living and no longer just letting time pass by as you work.

---

You listen to the crows as you stand on the porch, tea in hand, and a cup waiting for Phil. Another one standing beside that one, in case Techno is to join the two of you.

You enjoy the calmness as you can see the red start to spread over the horizon painting the sky and the grey clouds. You know summer is approaching. The snow has started to melt in some places. While it still snows most days, the rain has started showing its face from time to another, and it seems today will be one of those days.

None of you say anything, as Phil comes out of his house, and Techno stalks out of his own too. You all just watch as the sky goes from red to orange and the rain starts to fall.

Winter finally seems to be over. And you let in the feeling of happiness that you thought was unreachable.

But right here, watching the sunrise between two people, who care for you, and whom you care deeply for. Happiness isn’t the domestic life you never got, but the peace you have found with never getting the life you dreamt of.

And right here, in the rain under the sunrise, is where you spot a figure on the horizon.

A figure who, the closer it walks, takes up a silhouette you could recognise any day of the week.

As the silhouette steps closer, your eyes fixate on his face. The wrinkles that now adorn it, the white streak in his hair. The charming face you once fell for.

Time seems to slow down as he makes eye contact with you, and you let go of your cup. Letting it crash onto the porch.

“Missed me, Darling?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

[90sstuffidk]

Kurt talking about Courtney (pt 1)

“You've co-written a song on the new album with your wife (Pennyroyle Tea), Courtney Love. Do you foresee further collaborations?

"It's a nice thought. I'd like to, but... to tell you the truth, I would rather just quit my band and join Hole, you know-only because when I have played music with them, there's a level of connection that's a little bit higher than with anyone else I ever played with. It's amazing. It's totally satisfying for Courtney and I, but completely unrealistic because we're already so intertwined with each other. Most people don't even think of the band Nirvana, they think of Kurt and Courtney, and it's just too much, it gets in the way. People would overlook the music and look into other things. It just wouldn't be taken seriously, so... I'd like to someday, but now I can't see anything for the next five years or so. We still jam together once in a while. It's such a sad situation. I really wish we could just join bands."

"Just yesterday I was listening to new recordings of Courtney and Hole, some songs are really fantastic. I would so love to have written them.. its a motivation for me. Courtney writes all the time. Me, I lost my ambition."

"Everyone thinks of me as this sad little spineless puppy who needs to be taken care of. It sickens me. When I first met Courtney, I thought of her as this totally independent self-serving person and I really respected her for that—that’s why I fell in love with her. I didn’t think I’d ever have a best friend, let alone a mate."

“Yeah, absolutely, I'm happiest sitting here, looking out over the lake, with my wife and baby. We understand each other. it's when the outside world comes in and puts its outdated values on my life that I get angry.”

"As he says earlier, Kurts wife and child keep him from teetering over the edge.. "I started to heal my negative attitude when we got married. Just finding a marriage partner, a soulmate. I never expected it to happen"

"I've suffered on a large scale but most of the attacks haven't been on me, they've been on someone I'm totally in love with, my best f***ing friend is being completely f***ing crucified every two months, if not more. I read a negative article about her every two months."

"She's not made of stone, she's not what's been written about her, she has emotions and feelings like everyone else and it really upsets her. And she's also constantly combating this stuff, trying to clear it up.”

“Oh, yeah! absolutely! I really can't describe what changed our attitude so fast, I think I was… I really was a lot more negative and angry and everything else a few years ago, but that had a lot to do with not having a mate, not having a steady girlfriend, and stuff like that… that was one of the main things that was bothering me, that I wouldn't admit at the time… so now that I've found that, the world seems a lot better for some reason! It really does change your attitude about things. I mean, 4 years ago I would have said the classic thing, like, "How dare someone bring a child into this life, y'know? It's a completely terrible way to go, the world's gonna explode any day…" and stuff like that, but once you fall in love it's a bit different… [laughs]”

“Cobain and Love were married in February at a secluded Hawaiian location after the band's tour of Japan and Australia, with only a female nondenominational minister and a roadie as a witness.

"It's like Evian water and battery acid," Cobain says of the couple's chemistry. And when you mix the two? "You get love," says Cobain, smiling for the first time. "I'm just happier than I've ever been. I finally found someone that I am totally compatible with. It doesn't matter whether she's a male; female or hermaphrodite or a donkey. We're compatible." Whenever Love walks into the room, even if it's to scold him about something, he gets the profoundly dopey grin of the truly love-struck.’

“Everyone seems to think that we couldn't possibly love each other, because we're thought of as cartoon characters, because we're public domain. So the feelings that we have for each other are thought of as superficial."

"The strange thing is I used to be an extremely negative person," he says. "My attitudes and opinions have only got more optimistic in the last couple of years and thats because of having a child and being in love. Its the only thing Ive been blessed with. I wanted a partner. I wanted security. Everything else is totally irrelevant."

"A lot of it just simple sexism. Courtney is my wife, and people could not accept the fact that I'm in love, and that I could be happy. Because she's such a powerful person, and such a threatening person, every sexist withinthe industry just joined forces and decided to string us up."

"Courtney especially could relate to Frances Farmer. I made the comparison between the two. When I was reading the book, I realised that this could very well happen to Courtney if things kept going on. There's only so much a person can take, you know?

"I've been told by doctors and psychiatrists that public humiliation is one of the most extreme and hardest things to heal yourself from. It's as bad as being brutally raped, or witnessing one of your parents murdered in front of your eyes or something like that. It just goes on and on, it grinds into you and it's so personal.

"And the Frances Farmer thing was a massive conspiracy involving the bourgeois and powerful people in Seattle, especially this one judge who still lives in Seattle to this day. He led this crusade to so humiliate her that she would go insane. In the beginning, she was hospitalised—totally against her will—and she wasn't even crazy. She got picked up on a drunk driving charge and got committed, you know. It was a very scary time to be confrontational."

"Kurt, so often impassive, glows whenever he mentions Courtney. He’s very much in love. Courtney does more than loan Kurt her clothing; she challenges him. "It’s a whirling dervish of emotion, all these extremes of fighting and loving each other at once. "If we weren’t married, just living together, there would have been three or four times when one of us would have walked out on the other. But because we’re so committed to each other, we’ve never had a fight last longer than an hour. We make up every time." While constant conflict may indicate instability in the relationship, it also shows that Courtney can break through his detached facade. Kurt says he doesn’t want to prove to the world that he loves Courtney, but that he needs to defend her against media attacks.

Kurt objects to the misogynist overtones of making Courtney the scapegoat for everything that might go wrong with Nirvana. And he sneers at the suggestion that he’s under Courtney’s thumb. "Everyone thinks of me as this sad little spineless puppy who needs to be taken care of. It sickens me. When I first met Courtney, I thought of her as this totally independent self-serving person and I really respected her for that—that’s why I fell in love with her. I didn’t think I’d ever have a best friend, let alone a mate."

So is Courtney the best fuck in the world?

Kurt stands up without saying a word. He turns around and hikes his black pinafore dress up around his chest so I can see dozens of red scratches on his back, furrows from Courtney’s fingernails.

Kurt concedes that being married to Courtney has meant losing his single-minded focus on all things Nirvana. He doesn’t care. He dreams of just writing his songs and selling tapes by mail order. If he can’t get up the enthusiasm he once had for Nirvana, it’s partially because the band have achieved every pinnacle of success they ever wanted, and several that they didn’t."

Courtney Love-Cobain is lounging barefoot on a sofa. "Where are my babies?" she demands, her arms outstretched. Kurt changes direction, pretends to be out of control and stops the pushchair just short of the sofa. He leans over his wife and kisses her. Long and passionately.

[theobxhummingbird]

I loved you from the start. -Luke Patterson x Reader.

Summary: Connecting through music or touch? A moment that keeps confusing Y/N and Luke on why they’re the only ones that are able to touch each other.

A/N: Here’s my first JATP imagine and I could say it’s an okay one for my first time writing about a JATP character. I’m making a whole series (because I love the show jeez, Luke especially). Enjoy it, what can I say? 🥺🤭🤘🏻👻🎸👅🍀

-

 Like Reggie always said, Julie and Luke ooze chemistry. And everyone seemed to accept it, because they were always in front of their eyes, singing their songs, like it's only the two of them in the world. Apart from Julie, who could see the three cute ghosts, her childhood best friend, was somehow able to as well. Flynn, Julie's best friend and the person who helped her throughout her hardest times, was still trying to acknowledge, why Julie's childhood best friend who also moved in next door, could see them without the music, but not her. Y/N on the other hand, was not like Julie and Flynn. She was introverted and shy, but brought light to every place she went to. Reggie enjoyed her company the most, thinking she's the most awesome person he'd met in his life. To Alex, she also seemed awesome and smart and he talked to her whenever he got the chance, but Luke---he was a bit too busy with writing music and playing it for the band, when he got an idea. He never really talked to her, only in situations when they ran into each other at the studio.

Julie, Flynn and Y/N were sat in the studio, talking about Julie getting taken down from her program, when the three boys appeared. -Are those cookies? -Reggie excitedly said. -Yes, Y/N made them, take some. -said Julie, but then remembered they can't eat, -Oh--- -Thanks Jules. -said Alex, sitting down behind his drum set. -I'll have one. -said Flynn and took one, but accidentally knocking one off the plate. Y/N sat up to take it, Luke kneeling at the same time, to tie his shoes. -Ouch. -they bumped their heads. -Careful there. -he rubbed his head. Y/N normally took the cookie and Luke went to his guitar. Julie, Flynn, Alex and Reggie, were all looking at them in shock, but the both didn't realize why. -How did that happen? -said Julie. -What? -You bumped into each other. Normally, you Y/N was supposed go through him like a sword. -said Flynn. -Maybe it was in the moment. -said Luke, -Sometimes we can pick up things, but then drop them. Julie took a hold of Y/N's arm and brought her to Luke. She lifted her hand and gestured Luke to put his up. When Y/N's hand landed on Luke's and it didn't go through it, they all gasped. -That is awesome! -said Reggie. -Everything for you is awesome. -Flynn spited. -You guys are meant to be! -Julie said and they immediately pulled their hands next to their bodies. -No Julie, stop. -Y/N muttered and she took her bag, leaving the studio. -Wait, Y/N! -said Reggie, but she was out of the studio.

- Weeks passed after the little surprise for everyone in the studio. Julie and the Phantoms continued writing music and singing their songs, while Y/N caught Julie and Flynn alone, managing to miss out on the three boys' presence. She was going to school, avoiding any contact with them whenever she saw them with Julie, knowing she can't fake that she can't see them, because all of them knew she can see them without music and for now, can touch Luke. It haunted her for weeks, the fact that she can touch Luke; the one boy that she could never imagine herself, holding his hand, nor loving because he was basically not existing. Julie told her, she can come to the studio whenever she needs to be alone and whenever she needs a secret place where she can cry, so Y/N wanted to try the opportunity and took her diary with her to the studio. She sat down, on what Luke said was, his couch and started writing the things she could only tell to paper:

" From what I still feel in my heart and on my hand, after being able to touch a person even my friend, who's more meant to be with him, I can't stop thinking through what it could mean? My mind's blocked and can't process what's this thing roaming in my heart? It started way before, when I was able to see the three of them. In that moment, my eyes got stuck to the one guy that I could never be close to like Julie was and is. I was always sat on the side, watching them lovingly sing to each other. And no, I never wished I was Julie, but I did want to be Y/N that stood in front of Luke. Singing was a big part of my life; it saved me from my hardest times, and no one knew I sang and sometimes wrote music. It was all the secretive part of me, and it still is. And now, seeing Julie and Luke sing---I don't know---maybe I want to sometimes start singing at the top of my lungs, which I do when I get home after seeing them sing together; all of them, the entire band. And Luke, he's an amazing person and now that I know that I can touch him, all I want is to run and give him the biggest hug...but I can't, because even though he's connected through touching with me, he's connected through music and heart with Julie...also, there's something I want to confess-"

When she was about to finish her sentence, the three appeared in the studio, as well as Julie and Flynn who came through the door. Y/N got confused and she only managed to shove the pen in her bag and unnoticeably knocked over her diary; it closing under the coffee table. -Y/N! -Reggie said, going in for a hug, but Y/N passing through him. -Oh. It only works for Luke. He frowned and got back to his guitar. Luke didn't say anything; he just played dumb and continued to be his own self; crazy and happy to see Julie with some new lyrics. -You can rehearse, I'm leaving. Bye guys, see you. -she said and rushed out of the studio, leaving no time for the others to react to her sudden leaving. Her feet walked fast to her house and, when she opened her door, her grandma was sleeping in the living room. Y/N slowly and quietly walked to her room, trying not to wake her up, and sat down on her bed. She was sad, too sad to even see from her tears. The dusty guitar was placed in the corner and she didn't want to pick it up that night, rather pulling the covers over herself and falling asleep.

- The boys rehearsed with Julie, and Flynn and her promised each other a sleepover, so the preparations started outside the studio. Reggie and Alex were doing whatever entertained them, and Luke was still stuck on his new lyrics, trying to put words together that made sense to him the most. He rubbed his forehead, with the hand that held his pen, while having the guitar pick, peeking at the corner of his mouth. His gaze fell on a notebook corner that had fallen under the table. He picked it up, thinking it's Julie's lyrics notebook. Luke tossed it on the table, it flipping some pages open, to the same writing from earlier. He took it in his hands again, with his well-known curiosity, as his eyes moved fast from one sentence to another. The last part of it caught his attention the most. What was she going to confess? His feet hit the ground and he was headed for Y/N's house, remembering she can see him, so he needs to sneak in but not be seen by her. From what he could hear, there was no sound coming from her house. He slowly walked in on sleeping Y/N, immediately spotting the guitar in her corner. She had created herself a writing corner, that was filled with papers. He couldn't uncrumple the ones she threw away around the small desk, because she was going to wake up and see him. Luke took some of the lyrics, and what seemed to be her lyrics notebook and was out of her house.

- -Hello, Y/N. -he said, when she flew in on him alone at the studio. -Take a seat. She followed, taking a seat a bit far away from him, -You left this yesterday. I found it under the coffee table. -Thank you. -she took it from his hands and placed it safely in her bag, hoping he didn't read any of her writing, unnoticeably crumbling that page in her bag. She cleared her throat before speaking again, -I'll leave. -Okay...-was all he said, refusing to talk to her. She met Reggie at the door, and walked through him, leaving the place. -What's wrong with Y/N lately? -he said to Luke. -I don't know. -said Luke, and went to try some music for Y/N's lyrics. When Julie came to the studio, and Luke had alone time with her, he tried asking her about why Y/N's singing is such a secret in her life. -Does Y/N sing? -he blurted out. Julie furrowed her eyebrows and turned around to answer him. -I don't know. Probably. Like every normal teenager. -No, I mean sing, sing. -I've heard her sing a few times when we were little, but now I've never even seen her touch a guitar. Why are you asking? -Just curious. -Her mum, used to talk to my mum that whenever Y/N was sad, she would go to her grandma and play her songs. No one knew why she did it, until--- -Hey guys! -Alex walked in, -Let's rock this rehearsal. -Never mind. -sighed Julie, and she went to the piano.

It stayed with him the whole time; two unfinished sentences, both leading to the girl he didn't know why felt so special to him? He played the guitar, making mistakes and messing up, which worried the others. It confused them even more, after he said he'll go on a walk. But they shrugged it off, thinking he's upset about his mum and dad. But this time, he didn't go to them; the house he went to the other day was standing in front of him. And, apart from yesterday, where no sound was coming from it, the house was now filled with a guitar sound and a soothing voice. He came in, unnoticed by Y/N, as he obsereved the scene, Julie was talking about. Her singing to her grandma, who was laid in bed, with pill boxes next to her. -That was beautiful, firefly. -her old hands were now placed on hers. Luke took a peek at the papers in his hands. Firefly; a song title written boldly above. Y/N's voice filled the entire room, as she started singing lyrics from Luke's papers. The words amazed him and he couldn't believe that, the shy and introverted Y/N, Julie's best friend, has a magical voice and songwriting talent. He wished for his guitar, and it dropped in his hands. When he started to play, both Y/N's and her grandma's eyes snapped at him. Y/N's mouth dropped to the floor, but she played along, so her grandma doesn't get suspicious. She stood up and approached Luke, so they could sing together for her sick grandma.

After their little performance, Luke magically didn't disappear, because he quickly took a grip of Y/N's hand; that kept him still. Her grandma applauded them both, thinking her granddaughter wanted to bring along a friend to make a small performance for her, and Luke and Y/N assured her, as if it was really like that. -What are you doing here? -she brought him outside. -I wanted to see why singing is such a secret for you. -You read my diary didn't you? -I open Julie's dream box; I open your diary. Same outcome every time. Two beautiful voices. Is there something bad in that? -Boundaries! -she raised her voice. -Boundaries. -Yeah yeah, I get that a lot. -he said, -Also...what were you going to confess at the end? -Nothing. It doesn't interest you. Go now Luke, please. -You are holding my hand, Y/N. -he said and she let go, shaking them off together. -Tell me. -No Luke. I'll see you tomorrow at the studio. -she said, and swung open the door.

- It was the most important show for the Julie and the Phantoms. The four of them were so nervous that they constantly rehearsed the lyrics backstage. Flynn and Y/N took over their places in the crowded room, both of them present for support of their best friend's band with her crazy ghosts. Luke peek around the curtain, just to make sure she's there, and in the crowd. -Did you spot her? -said Reggie from behind him. -Is it that hard to spot her? A person with the brightest and most innocent smile in this world. I hope I don't confuse her tonight. -I think it'll be cute dude. -he tapped his shoulder and went to Julie and Alex.

When their last song finished, but the band kept playing, Luke settled himself with the guitar and took the microphone to speak. -While you got to see the Julie and the Phantoms, here's something very personal to me; a song I wrote along my journey with this band, just by looking at one person in the room. She's here tonight, between you all, supporting us with just her presence. Firefly, this song 'I loved you from the start', is for you my muse. Y/N's entire system stopped processing his words and her mouth stayed open in shock, as Luke started to play and sing the song he wrote for her. Tears formed in her eyes, as she took the scene of the emotional, but moving song he was telling in front of a whole crowd for...her? The words contained how much she meant to him and how he loved her from the moment he laid his eyes on her beautiful face. The crowd whistled and applauded when he finished, and calmed when Luke took the mic again to speak, -It's been a long way of just observing her from afar. I never felt so much inspiration for music in my life. Somehow she was keeping me from giving up on my dreams. Y/N, you're the most amazing and talented person I've ever met in my life, so I would be very honored if you accompany me on this stage and sing your song 'Firefly' with me? The crowd, as well as Flynn was encouraging her to get up on the stage and sing with him. And while she resisted, they persuaded her into doing it, and she found herself next to Luke. Reggie handing her a guitar, she stood next to Luke, and they started singing together. It was like her dreams came true at once, by just writing them in her diary, that he so happened to read. He could see her eyes flickering with excitement and happiness, and when they finished the song, Luke cupped her face, and placed a deep kiss to her lips in front of the entire audience. Julie and the band couldn't be more happy about the two of them, finally putting out their feelings for each other. When they split apart, he rested his forehead on hers. -Maybe Julie and I connect through music yes, but there's nothing better than being able to feel the person you love the most. I love you Y/N, and I loved you from the start. -I-I love you so much that everything that happened so quickly, felt like a dream I'm too scared waking up from. -You shouldn't be scared, because you'll live that dream as long as I can take a hold of these amazing hands, -he kissed them both,-that make words come to life. God, the things you make me feel by just existing. -You're the most perfect ghost I've seen in my life. -she joked, and placed kisses to his cheeks, finally meeting his lips again for a final kiss before they go back to the studio.

-- Julie and the Phantoms wrote music, which was normal, but Luke always enjoyed writing music with Y/N's head on his shoulder. He was overwhelmed to finally feel the person he loves, because his biggest pain, is never being able to touch the girl he loved the most...his Unsaid Emily.

[vanillann]

good girls

a/n: i wanna change my fic layout but idk what to do with it i. ii. iii.

based off “good girls” by 5sos and based off this request

reggie peters x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warning: talk of homophobia (if you are homophobic don’t interact with my page) and swearing

reggie peter masterlist

“I still can’t believe your parents are gone for the weekend!”

Reggie spun on his heels, falling on his back on the fluffy couch of the Mercer house, one he was often never invited into as he didn’t look like a good influence. Bobby picked up his feet, taking a seat as he also took in the nice living room.

“Some Biblical thing, I’m not allowed to go because, well-” Alex trailed off, leaving the living room to the kitchen. Nobody said a word about the recent discovery about Alex’s parents, they weren’t open-minded at all.

“Well don’t worry, Reggie will accidentally break something by the end of the weekend to get back at ‘em,” Luke followed Alex into the kitchen, leaving Bobby to laugh at Reggie’s offended face.

“I don’t break things that often!”

“You broke your locker yesterday,” Bobby pointed out, much to Reggie dismay. He frowned, giving Bobby his puppy eyes but it was no use as Bobby wasn’t even looking in Reggie direction.

“Is that who I think it is?” Bobby leaned on the fluffy pillows and pointed to the figure they all knew. Reggie knew she lived beside Alex, he had seen her get in the car when he used to pick Alex up for school, but now Bobby insists on doing it as he has to drive past all three of their houses anyways.

“Is that who I think it is?” Bobby leaned on the fluffy pillows and pointed to the figure they all knew. Reggie knew she lived beside Alex, he had seen her get in the car when he used to pick Alex up for school, but now Bobby insists on doing it as he has to drive past all three of their houses anyways.

“Is that who I think it is?” Bobby leaned on the fluffy pillows and pointed to the figure they all knew. Reggie knew she lived beside Alex, he had seen her get in the car when he used to pick Alex up for school, but now Bobby insists on doing it as he has to drive past all three of their houses anyways.

“What is going on?” Luke slid across the hardwood floor with his white socks, smiling as his eyes followed Bobby’s finger to the figure that sat on the roof.

“That’s (Y/N)!” Luke immediately yelled, almost jumping up and down as they watched her blow some smoke softly from her lips into the cold November air.

“Yeah, she does that often,” Alex shrugged, this time he was the one to join Reggie on the couch.

He seemed to be the only person unbothered by this newest discovery of Ms. Goody-Two-Shoe smoking on the roof with a bored expression on her face. The girl who spoke perfect French and wore an Ivy League sweatshirt with collars underneath.

“Luke, stop!”

It was too late for Bobby to stop Luke as he unlocked one of the window panels, his voice drifting through the neighborhood. Alex and Reggie jumped from the couch, watching as (Y/N) almost slide down the roof once Luke started yelling.

“Whatcha doing (L/N)!”

Her whole demeanor changed, the once bored expression was switched for pure panic as she ducked her head in the window and then slowly slid down the roof. The boys watched her grab the ladder on the side of the house and easily maneuver to make sure not a soul caught her in the act of sneaking out. Reggie had snuck out a million times and he still wasn’t this good.

She jogged the yard between the Mercer and the (L/N) household, holding a long cardigan close to her chest as she jogged to the open bay window. Reggie thought she’d be happy to have some company, although he didn’t smoke he’d be nice company nonetheless, but her face said it all.

She looked prepared to hurt all four of them without a second glance, her eyebrows pushed to the center of her forehead and her lips frowning like she does when she finished a test way earlier than anyone else.

“Wanna lose your head Patterson?”

Luke only chuckled, looking over both his shoulders for some support but was met with nothing but blank stares. Reggie never found someone so imminating before, the way her eyes bored into his soul and her crossed arms like a warrior who killed an army single-handedly and never broke a sweat.

“Mercer, where are your parents?” She nodded to the blond, way calmer while talking to him then when she spoke to Luke seconds ago.

“Church thing.”

The silence was short but deafening as they watched her rock back and front of her heels, pulling the cardigan closer and closer to her chest and Reggie finally felt the cold air run over his already red cheeks, his mouth moving faster than his brain.

“Here,” he dropped it from the window, cringing when it landed on her face and not in her hand like he planned in his head.

“Thanks.”

She wrapped it around her shoulder, not bothered by a stranger giving her a jacket but maybe they weren’t really strangers. They had many classes together, we gym partners during 12 mile runs, and even had the same locker block.

“Look, you didn’t see shit okay?”

“What do you mean?” Luke gave an innocent smile, trying his best to get under her skin but by the way she crossed her arm, that definitely wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m serious, you shut your pretty mouths and don’t say a word,” she pointed to each member, minus Alex as according to the two they already had a silent agreement. He lived up to it, he didn’t ever mention anything to the band once.

“I thought you were a good girl,” Bobby spoke this time, almost raising his hand like he was in class but held back from it.

“Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught,” she rolled her eyes, already slowly backing up from the house with a Reggie jacket held tightly to her chest.

Luke almost spoke again but Alex slapped his hand over his mouth and let the girl go back to her extracurriculars she had been doing earlier. Once she was safely on the ladder, Reggie reached out and closed the bay-widow and turned back to the couch.

“So they girl Reggie’s been in love with since the second grade is secretly bad, they’re practically made for each other!” Bobby spun around the room, laughing when Reggie slammed the pillow into his face and loudly groaned into it.

“Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught,” Luke ran to his bag, pulling out his notebook and scribbling the line. He didn’t stop there, writing faster than any essay he’d ever written, and he writes those seconds before they’re due.

“Are you really writing a song about my pain right now?”

“Reginald, we both know pain makes the best songs! Beside, it’s not even about you, it’s about her,” she grabbed his finger over his shoulder, telling him exactly who he was talking about.

Alex leaned over his shoulder, silently reading the words while drumming patterns on his leg.

“Practice in the garage?”

“I’ll get my bass!”

Reggie leaned on his locker, the other three trying to convince him to walk to her locker a few down with a cassette in Luke’s hand.

“Just ask for your jacket and give her this, she’ll understand once she sees the title,” Luke slammed the cassette into Reggie’s palm, which was sweeter than normal.

“How do you know she listens to cassettes?”

“Her car is from the 70s, she listens to cassette,” Alex pointed out, trying his best to push his friend. The sound of a loud slam bought them from the little trance they fell in. (Y/N) had a leather jacket slung over her arm and was walking directly to the group.

“She’s coming!” Reggie tried to turn around but the boys had built a wall behind him.

“Peters?”

“(Y/N)!”

She stood in front of him, the cardigan replaced with a T- shirt then had a math pun Reggie definitely didn’t understand and some baggy jeans.

“Here’s your jacket,” she held it out, nodding to the vintage material in her hand as she waited for him to take it.

“Don’t worry about it!”

Reggie cringed, knowing he always wore that jacket and he just gave it away like it was nothing.

“I have two already, here,” she grabbed his elbow, extending the arm with the cassette. She spotted the name scribbled across the paper, a frown finding its way onto her lips. She reached for it, letting it switch between her fingers before she looked up with a shy smile on her lips.

“Don’t you think ‘Good girls are bad girls’ is a long title, just make it ‘Good Girls”.”

Reggie smiled, nodding as he finally took the jacket and held it closer to his chest. He could smell soft lilac and something else he couldn’t quite name. The jacket had been with her for a weekend and was already imprinted with the scent, much like Reggie was with the girl.

“I like that!”

She nodded, waved to the other members of the band and easily was lost in the bust crowd of the school. Reggie was speechless, trying to find her in the crowd but she blended in so well.

That’s how she got away with it, because good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught.

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[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

song lyric prompts!

Hey! You guys know what to do! In celebration of requests opening soon, and to get me back into the flow of writing, I thought I’d do a month of lyric prompts, ending august 4th! 

So, send a number (or a few) and a person and I’ll see what I can come up with! ✨✨

Thank you for sticking with me and I am so excited to start writing for you all again. 🥰

Prompts: 

1: every time she mentions your name, she says it like a prayer (more like you: orla gartland)

2: you show up at my home, all alone with a shovel and a rose (maniac: conan gray)

3: anything you say can and will be held against you, so only say my name (just one yesterday: fall out boy)

4: i wanna sleep next to you but that's all i wanna do right now (talk me down: troye sivan)

5: i fall in love just a little bit everyday with someone new (someone new: hozier)

6: now the day bleeds into nightfall and you’re not here to get me through it all (someone you loved: lewis capaldi)

7: i always fall from your window to the pitch black streets (the kids aren’t alright: fall out boy)

8: i'm shaving with your toothpaste and trying to vacuum from the ceiling (give me a try: the wombats)

9: there'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you (happiness: taylor swift)

10: cause even when she's next to me, we could not be more far apart (she: dodie)

11: things will change they always do, but my heart will stay open for you (stay open: maya hawke)

12: i know you were way too bright for me (golden: harry styles)

13: the boy you loved in spring, the way she looks at him (the key to life on earth: declan mckenna) 

14: could not care less if you love me (special girl: dodie)

15: you fell asleep in my car i drove the whole time (tear in my heart: twenty one pilots)

16: if you dance with me, darling, if you take me home. will we talk in the morning? (will we talk?: sam fender)

17: you knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart (hoax: taylor swift)

18: all the people over there, they don't seem to have a care, i'm so fucking self-aware, it's exhausting (pretending: orla gartland)

19: you know the galaxies of my heart (space girl: frances forever)

20: i'm just a part of someone else's dream (cool people: alfie indra)

21: tell me that I'm alright, that i ain't gonna die (hard times: paramore)

22: you started a band, that was cool for awhile but it turned pretty bland (forest whitaker: bad books)

23: don't you know I'm no good for you? (when the party’s over: billie eilish)

24: all the silver tongued suits and cartoons that rule my world (hypersonic missiles: sam fender)

25: 'cause babe, what's yours is mine, all your drama and your trauma (zombie!: orla gartland) 

26: with so much left to do, you’ll be missing out and we’ll be missing you (missing you: all time low)

27: but if i just showed up at your party. would you have me? would you want me? (betty: taylor swift)

28: and i've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene (no body, no crime: taylor swift) 

29: the millisecond that you're away i get the loneliest feeling (give me a try: the wombats)

30: open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see (only angel: harry styles)

31: ‘cause i found a girl, who's in love with a girl, she said that she tried, but she's not into guys (i found a girl: the vamps)

32: i saw a shooting star and thought of you (all of the stars: ed sheeran)

33: but i've found my sweet escape when I'm alone with you (disconnected: 5sos)

34: late december with my heart in my chest and the clouds of my breath (roman holiday: halsey)

35: how could i have been so foolish to let you leave (lover come back: city and colour)

36: only fools fall for you (fools: troye sivan)

37: i'm the only one that has made you fall in love (the king: conan gray)

38: now which do you prefer? to be alone, to be in love or to just be worth it? i think you're worth it (strawberry sunscreen: lostboycrow)

39: it's you, you're the one that makes me feel right (me & you together song: the 1975)

40: you don't have to be scared, babe. you don't need a plan of what you wanna do (listen to the man: george ezra)

41: you won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home (photograph: ed sheeran)

42: have i known you 20 seconds or 20 years? (lover: taylor swift)

43: looked like how i feel 'bout your lips (space girl: frances forever)

44: give me a minute to hold my girl (hold my girl: george ezra)

45: i know i'm the one you want to forget (miss missing you: fall out boy)

46: the darkest night never felt so bright with you by my side (outer space/carry on: 5sos)

47: just let me cry a little bit longer (rose-coloured boy: paramore)

48: you felt it once before i know you did (backseat serenade: all time low)

49: don’t you know that you are golden (golden: the vamps)

50: and i might never be the one who brings you flowers but i can be the one tonight (perfect: one direction)

People I write for:

Stranger Things:

- Steve

- Robin

- Nancy

- Jonathan

Riverdale:

- Sweet Pea

- Fangs

- Toni

- Cheryl

- Veronica

- Reggie

- Josie

- Kevin

- Archie

- Betty

- Jughead

- FP

- Jason

The End of The F***ing World:

- James

- Alyssa

5sos:

- Calum

- Luke

- Ashton

- Michael

Sex Education:

- Otis

- Eric

- Maeve

- Adam

- Jackson

- Aimee

- Lily

- Orla

Killing Eve: 

- Villanelle 

- Eve 

Prodigal Son: 

- Malcolm 

- Dani 

- Ainsley 

- JT 

- Jessica 

- Dr Edrisa 

- Dr Martin 

- Gil

WandaVision: 

- Wanda 

- Vision 

- Darcy 

- Jimmy 

- Monica 

And if you have any suggestions of who I could write for, send them in! 

support my writing! if you want! 

[wintrcaptn]

Forbidden | Andy Barber

Summary : You used to babysit Jacob when he was younger and had the biggest crush on his dad, Andy. But being in High school at the time, you knew it was just a stupid fantasy that could never happen. Now, six years later, you were visiting your hometown while on winter break. Once you found out the news about Jacob, you knew you had to go check up on them. But things take a turn when you find yourself alone with Andy Barber.

A/N : I have fallen in love with Andy and can’t stop thinking about him. Hope you all enjoy it!!

“I can’t believe this.” You said, sitting across from one of your old high school friends.

“Yeah, it’s so crazy. Didn’t you used to babysit Jacob?” Aria asked.

You could only nod, not knowing what to say.

Suddenly, memories ofJacob flooded your mind. You remembered his sweet innocent smile, and his contagious laugh. Babysitting him never felt like a job. He was easy going and loving. You couldn’t believe he could ever hurt anyone.

“Well I should get going.” She said. “It was nice catching up. Should do this again.”

“Definitely!”

When you arrived back into town, you were so excited to see everyone and be home. But this wasn’t what you had in mind.

The Barber’s were the picture perfect family. The type of family you always wished you had.

A part of you envied Jacob. He had two amazing parents who loved him with everything they had, and the other part envied Laurie. That woman had it all. The job, the house, and especially the dreamy husband.

Andy was definitely your teenage crush. He was all you ever thought about. But being sixteen, you knew it was nothing more than a fantasy.

You sat at the diner for a long moment, before you heard murmurs behind you, speaking about Jacob, pulling you out of your head.

Just then, you knew you had to pay them a visit.

As you pulled up to the familiar house, your stomach churned. It was less inviting than before. Almost like it were haunted.

The picture perfect image, was now gone.

You made you way to the door, heart pounding faster with every step. You weren’t sure why you were nervous, since you have been there hundreds of times before, but this time was different.

Gently, you knocked on the wooden door. The nerves building up inside of you, as you stood there, waiting for an answer.

Andy was startled by the sound, muting the tv he waited for it again. Maybe it was all in his head?

A few seconds later, you knocked again.

He let out a sigh, before groggily propping up to his feet.

Looking through the peephole, he could only see the back of your head. Not knowing exactly who it was, he hesitantly opened the door.

In that moment, you snapped your attention back and met his tired, ocean like eyes. Seeing him there, you were instantly reminded why you liked him so much in high school.

Not much had changed, except for a few crinkles around his eyes. But other than that, he was still handsome as ever.

He couldn’t believe it was you. It had been so long, he almost didn’t recognize that it was you.

“H-Hi, Mr. Barber.” You stammered.

“Wow, Y/N! Is that really you?” He asked, a bit surprised. “I-I can’t believe it—it’s been how many years?”

“Six.” You chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m just visiting for the weekend, and thought I’d stop by. Catch up and what not.”

You weren’t sure if you should bring up the case. He looked exhausted, defeated even. You didn’t want to make thingns worse.

Andy wasn’t sure if you had heard about the news or not, but he was in need of a distraction. Something to get his mind off of everything, even if for just a little while.

He stepped off to the side, holding the door open and motioned for you to come in.

You flashed a soft smile and obliged.

The house had a few changes. Little tweaks here and there. The walls had some new photos hanging, and the couches were different. But it still reminded you of The Barber’s. Which felt nice since they were a big part of your life.

“Want something to drink?” He asked, making his way over to the kitchen.

“Water please.”

A soft chuckle escaped him but he didn’t say another word.

“Are Jacob and Mrs. Barber here?”

Andy swallowed hard after those names rolled off your tongue. If only you knew how bad it was, you wouldn’t have asked.

“They—um—they stepped out. Won’t be back for a while.” He said. Dancing around from telling you that in all actuality, they were at Jacob’s therapy session.

In that moment, you realized you were alone with Andy. Alone with the man you secretly wanted in high school.

Suddenly, you were even more nervous than before.

“O-oh.” You exhaled. “S-Should I come back later?”

He furrowed his brows and shook his head. “No, no. It’s fine.” He said. “I could really use some company. Besides, I want to know how you’ve been! You’ve grown up since the last time I saw you.”

And man, did he notice how much you’ve grown.

He had always thought you were beautiful, but never thought to cross the line. It was unethical. And he would never do anything to make you feel unsafe.

But here you were, no longer a girl in high school. He couldn’t help but notice the curves of your legs under your skinny jeans, and the way you lightly bit on your lower lip. It was something he never noticed before until now.

Now you were in your third year at Stanford. You’ve had boyfriends, and been to parties. Even had some crazy stories of your own.

The girl Andy remembers is all grown up. And you were mesmerizing.

His eyes lingered on you, as he took another sip of his beer. You could feel your stomach flutter.

“Yea, last time you saw me, I was about to start my senior year.” You chuckled. “Though it feels like it was just yesterday, I am now half way through my third year at Stanford.”

Andy flashed a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest, taking a seat on the couch.

You were sitting across from him, playing with the rim of the glass.

“That’s really something, Y/N.” He said. “I’m really happy for you.”

The two of you went on, filling in the past six years. Making each other laugh over little embarrassing moments, and awkward stories you had encountered through out your time away.

It was so refreshing for Andy to talk about something that wasn’t about the Murder case.

For a moment, he had almost forgot what it was like to genuinely have a conversation with someone.

Not feeling forced into smiling or having to come up with something to keep the convo going. It was easy, flowing as if you were two best friends.

Even back in high school, you two seem to connect in that sense. Nothing ever felt force. Part of the reason why you fell for the guy.

“Mr. barber, what is—“

“Please call me Andy.” He said cutting you off.

With the way he said his own name, and how he held your gaze, your stomach fluttered immensely, it was becoming a bit hard to concentrate.

“A-Andy.” You said, making him flash a smile. “What is one thing you remember most about me?”

He paused for a moment to think back from years ago. There were so many memories that stood out. Like the one where you two stayed up playing monopoly with Jacob.

But with what was happening right now, he decided to stay with something light hearted.

“I remember you were a big fan of that boy band—what was it, That direction or—“

“One Direction.” You cringed at the memory. “Yeah, wasn’t my proudest moment, but you got to admit they had some great hits!”

“Eh, if you’re into that kind of stuff.”

“I’m sorry, not everyone is stuck in the eighties like you old man.” You teased.

Andy belted our into laughter, his cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. “The eighties were the best!” He cackled. “Besides, I was born in the eighties.”

“Exactly. Old man.”

“Okay. Well, I’m still young at heart, so does that make me cool yet?”

You thought for just a moment, and then shrugged. “If you can name a song from today, I’ll consider it.”

Every time your eyes met, you almost forgot to breathe. And every time he smiled, you swore you felt your heart skip a beat. Here you were again, swooning over him.

But he’s married. And his son is suspected of murder. What the hell were you thinking?!

For a while, you were both caught up in the conversation, you didn’t realize how long you had been there,

Three hours.

“Damn. I can’t believe it’s been that long.” You chuckled. “Who would’ve thought talking to an old man would be so interesting.”

Andy tilted his head back and let out a genuine laugh.

“The older you get, the more stories you have.” He winked. “But on a serious note, I’m glad you stopped by.”

You flashed a smile, walking over to the door with Andy behind you.

“Me too.” You said. “I really missed you.”

Andy cocked a brow, his lips slightly twitching into a smirk.

“I—I mean missed being back here. Feels like old times.”

The two of you stood by the front door, your eyes glanced away, while his stayed on you. The feeling of his gaze made you hot.

Andy wasn’t sure what was happening or why he couldn’t stop thinking what he was thinking. But the longer he stood there, staring at you from you legs to your waist, all the way up to your lips, part of him began to feign for you. Wanting to feel you against him, and taste you.

It were as if he craved you, and having you dangle in front of him, it drove him crazy.

You hesitantly glanced up and met his gaze. And damn, with those alluring eyes of his, you weren’t able to move an inch, let alone, remember to breathe.

Andy couldn’t take it anymore. The tension was beginning to be too much, and all he cared about, all he wanted to do in that very instant was to kiss you. To feel something again. To feel you.

Without taking a second to think about it, he swiftly stepped closer to you and closed the distance.

The moment his lips pressed against yours, chills covered you completely. It didn’t take you long to motion back and give into him, running your hands through his hair, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

It was so intoxicating, you were high from it all.

The way his tongue danced along yours, and the way his teeth bit on your lower lip, your thigh clenched, yearning to feel more of him. To feel him press into you, pounding you. Just the thought made a soft moan escape out from your mouth.

The sound of you only made Andy crave you more. His only desire was to take you, right there.

Until footsteps neared and the sound of keys jingle caught your attentions.

Immediately, the two of you parted, trying to catch your breaths.

Andy had wiped his mouth, trying to seem less suspicious while you fixed your hair and stood across from him.

Before the door opened, you shared a glance, immediately feeling guilty.

Laurie was startled when she saw the two of you standing by the door. He brows were scrunched until she realized it was you.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, you’re all grown up!” She said taking you for a tight hug.

Both you and Andy locked eyes again. This was it, the moment you realized, you were going to hell.

Jacob walked in to the house and flashed a cheeky grin, excited to see you.

When you saw how tall he was and how much he had grown, you were shocked and sad at the same time.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes slightly widened. “Jacob! You’re voice isn’t squeaky anymore! And—and you’re tall!”

He let out a chuckle, and shrugged. “Guess that’s what puberty does to you.”

“Guess so.” You smiled.

Standing there, seeing him after all these years, you still can only see the little boy you use to babysit. The little boy who loved to play board games and tag.

It broke your heart knowing that he was going through this. They all were.

“A-are you staying or—?” Jacob asked.

You shook your head and sighed. “No, I was just about to leave. I’m only here for the weekend, so I’m trying to make my rounds.”

His smile faltered and he glanced down. “Oh, okay.”

You couldn’t help but feel bad. Jacob was still a kid. Still that same little boy. And you were sure, I’m this town, no one was giving him the time of day. No matter what the truth was.

Everyone is so quick to point fingers and they don’t care about what he was going through.

“How about tomorrow I come over and we play monopoly, how does that sound?”

His eyes lit up almost instantly. “That would be cool.” He said. “As long as I get to be the hat.”

“Like always.” You chuckled. “Deal.”

Jacob waved and made his way upstairs. Laurie flashed a soft smile, her eyes looking as tired as Andy’s.

“I should get to bed too.” She said softly. “It was really nice seeing you again Y/N.”

Laurie gave your hand a little squeeze just before heading up to her room. Not once giving Andy the time of day. You were able to sense some tension there but didn’t say a word.

You swallowed hard, it was just the two of you. Again.

“I should go.” You said. “It was really nice to see you.”

Andy reached for your hand, pulling you to face him. Part of him wishing he could kiss you again, but the other part knew he shouldn’t.

“We need to talk about what happened.” He whispered.

Everything was just so complicated but with you, you made everything feel at ease. Like nothing could go wrong . It was hard to explain but being with you, everything felt right.

“There’s nothing to talk about. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

And with that, you pulled out of his grasp and made your way to your car. His eyes lingered on you the entire time until you weren’t visible anymore.

He hated himself in that moment. And not because he kissed you, but because he wanted to do it again. He wanted to feel more of you.

Andy realized that the girl he really wanted, wasn’t his wife. The girl he needed, isn’t the woman sleeping on his bed tonight. And for that, he knew he screwed up.

“Dammit.” He grunted to himself.

——

Chapter Two

[halpertstuna]

must have been the wind - jj maybank

A/N: this imagine is inspired by the song “must have been the wind” by alec benjamin. i wrote this imagine listening to the slowed version of the song. i highly recommend you listen to it whilst/before/after reading this(:

pairing: jj x reader

word count: 2,874

warnings: mentions of domestic violence, some angst, some fluff, ya know, all that jazz. and probably typos (this isn’t really edited, pls forgive me)

-> masterlist <-

(gif credit: @jjbanks )

It was 1:28AM, you gazed out the window of the moving car, your elbow was placed on the door panel whilst your head rested in the palm of your hand, the dark navy blue moonlit water in the ocean outside was being reflected in your eyes.

You were currently sat in the backseat of a white Honda lost in your thoughts. Your dad got transferred to North Carolina due to him getting a promotion at work, which was a big deal, especially since your mum wasn’t working and so he jumped on the opportunity right away, moving the two of you with him.

Obviously you were happy for him, but you were also kind of glum since it meant packing up your entire life back in Miami and leaving all of your friends behind with everything else that was familiar, warm and felt like home.

You were being pulled out of your thoughts by the car coming to a stop.

You exited the car taking your bag and suitcase with you to the front porch, then retuned to help your exhausted parents with theirs, once you acknowledged they were struggling to keep their eyes open.

The movers were supposed to come in the morning at about 8AM to unload the rest of your belongings.

You had entered the house and your dad lead you to your room, your mum following not far behind, not wanting to be alone in the foreign, empty house.

You set your bags down next to the bedroom door and kissed both your parents goodnight. They went to their room shortly after and fell into a deep asleep right away.

You changed into pyjamas and laid down in bed staring at the ceiling, you were tired but you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep.

After about an hour of just gazing at the fan spinning above your head, your eyes started to flutter shut, and just as you were about to drift off to sleep the sound of glass shattering startled you, making your heart race as the sound echoed through your ears.

You jumped out of bed and ran to your parents room worried, only to find out they were fast asleep.

Where did the sound come from then? And how come your parents didn’t hear anything? Is the tiredness starting to affect your hearing? Did you just imagine it?

You walked back to your room confused and curious as to where the sound came from.

you laid back in bed and quickly fell asleep assuming what you heard was caused by your sleep deprived state, your ears playing tricks on you.

You managed to fall asleep pretty quickly but you were pulled out of your dreams by the sound of two male voices, screaming at the top of their lungs, shooting at each other vitriolic comments.

Now you were sure, you weren’t just imagining it earlier.

You walked towards your bedroom window, peeking out in hopes of seeing something, anything that could give you a clue to whatever the hell is going on at almost four in the morning.

After about five minutes of hearing despicable words roll off someone’s tongue, muffled by the walls yet clear as day the second you let them sink in, you decided to go back to sleep since it’s really not your place, and just as you were about to walk back to your bed, you noticed a tall figure exit the house in a hurry while someone from behind it kept roaring in a resentful tone vile words.

You quickly turned your attention back to the view your window had to offer, watching as what looked like a teenage boy, put a helmet on his disheveled hair, get on a bike and ride off.

And with that, the noise stopped.

You were stood by your window as the quiet night swallowed you whole, the only sound audible now was your breathing.

You laid back in your bed taking in what you had just witnessed.

Who was that boy? Who was the mysterious, scary voice behind the door? why was he yelling such dreadful things at him? And what more was he capable of?

The questions were endless, they haunted your thoughts, knowing you had to find out what was going on, if that boy was okay.

You dozed off not long after, given the fact that you were after a flight and it was really late.

The next morning you were woken up by the rays of sunlight breaking through the glass of your window, resting on your closed eyelids. The realisation that you forgot to shut the curtains last night before you went to bed suddenly hitting you.

It was almost eight. You let out a loud groan and flipped so you were facing the wall, desperate for more sleep.

You barely had time to even try before your mum knocked on your door, your eyes fluttered open, she smiled at you greeting you good morning.

You let out a sigh and sat up, mumbling under your breath “it could be better”.

You got up and brushed your teeth, then went back to your room to get changed. You wore blue jean shorts, a black oversized band tee and white slip-on vans.

you entered the kitchen and noticed your dad making coffee, he handed you a mug filled with the warm liquid, you quickly drank it and set the mug down in the sink, realising he had started unpacking the “fragile - kitchen” box, meaning the mover’s loading truck was already outside.

You got out of the hous and your dad followed, your mum was already helping with the boxes and the two of you joined her and the movers helping them unload the truck.

It was almost nine and you were down to your last boxes, when you heard what sounded like the engine of a motorcycle.

Your head shot in the direction of the house next to yours as you noticed the same bike from yesterday come to a stop at the front porch, a blonde mop of hair was the first thing you noticed once the boy took off the helmet he had on, running his fingers through his hair.

He started making his way into the house, not giving you a single look.

When you finished unloading and unpacking your parents asked you to take out the trash.

You held two big, black garbage bags in your petite hands and started making your way to the bin.

You threw the content in, and just as you turned around the boy exited his house.

The two of you made eye contact and you offered him a kind smile which he mirrored without hesitation.

You started walking towards your house but stopped in your tracks at the memories of last night.

He was sat on his doorstep, a juul in his hand, as he hit it repeatedly.

You started walking towards him.

“Hey” he greeted sending you a smirk.

“Hi” you replied grinning.

As you got closer to him, you were met with the prettiest pair of blue eyes you’d ever seen.

“I’m JJ” he introduced himself taking another hit

“I’m Y/N, I’m new here” you stated suddenly shy under his gaze, taking in how attractive he is from up close.

“Yeah, i kinda figured, I saw the truck here earlier, plus I’ve never seen you around before” he affirmed

You nodded, a comfortable silence fell upon you two.

You were looking him up and down, he was wearing a grey tank top that revived his biceps and kaki shorts with a pair of black boots.

You then looked at the juul he was holding and noticed his knuckles looked slightly bruised, painted in this violet colour. You studied his features slowly before breaking the silence.

“Hey, um I actually wanted to ask you a question” He looked up at you signalling you to continue. “Last night, when I was trying to sleep, I heard glass shattering and other noises, d- did you hear anything?” He averted his gaze from you to the dock in front of him shaking his head no.

You knew he was lying. But you didn’t push him any further, knowing that if he wanted to talk about it he would.

You quickly changed the subject which he was highly grateful for.

The two of you sat there talking for a few hours, you told him about your life back home and he told you about the pogues, the two of you found out you actually have a lot in common, you share the same love for the ocean and surfing, you both would do anything for your loved ones and you both want to travel the world and explore it.

You didn’t know how long you’ve been sat with JJ, talking, until the two of you noticed the sun starting to set in the horizon, painting the sky in the most beautiful shades of yellowish-red slowly followed by shades of violet and blue.

You darted your gaze over to JJ, only to discover his was already on you. You smiled up at him, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, you whispered a “hi” to which he chuckled and shook his head, smiling at how cute he found your softness.

And for the first time since you moved, you felt welcome. And even though it started getting chilly, you felt warm inside, thanks to the humorous boy beside you.

You could hear your name being called from inside the house, telling you dinner’s ready.

You bid your goodbyes and walked back to your house.

You ate dinner with your family then went to bed, this time falling asleep easily since you were exhausted from that day.

At about two in the morning, you had to pee, so you walked to the bathroom half asleep but were quickly snapped back to reality when you heard “I’ll fucking kill you!” bawled with rage.

Your eyes were shot open at the sound of that and you started freaking out a bit. You were really worried but you didn’t want to stick your nose where it didn’t belong, so you decided to let it go.

When you laid back in bed you heard someone ignite a motorcycle and take off, you assumed it was JJ, and again, with that, just like the night before, the noise stopped.

The next day you didn’t see him. You were worried something might have happened but you reassured yourself, assuming he was probably with the pogues. That day was dedicated to helping your parents unpack furniture, cutlery etc.

You went to sleep pretty early given you were in desperate need of it.

You were abruptly woken up by the sound of loud thuds and the words “worthless piece of shit” ringing in your ears as they were being yelled at someone.

You quickly got up and looked out your window, you were concerned about JJ’s well being, assuming he got back home while you were sleeping.

This time you just couldn’t shake the feeling something’s seriously wrong, with that you slipped on your shoes and quickly ran to his house in a panic.

You knocked on the door firmly.

Once it was swung open and you were met with the same pair of blue eyes you saw yesterday, but this time with a bruise under one and a cut under the other.

His eyes softened at the sight of your worried state and you drank him in, searching his face for more bruises.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked now angry “what’s all that noise?!”

JJ looked at you then down at his feet and said “I wish I could tell you but I didn’t hear anything” you were taken aback by his words.

You knew he was playing dumb, and usually you won’t want to intrude but you were far too worried about him.

“Are you serious?” You asked him with wide eyes. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. It must’ve been the wind.” you were dumbfounded by his statement, speechless.

“Thanks for caring, but I have to go back inside, good night.” Your eyes swam with concern as he closed the door. You walked back to your house not wanting to pressure him any further into talking about it since he looked like he was on the verge of breaking.

The next day you went to the beach with your surfboard. You ran into the water, eager to catch some waves when you were met with none other than the “surfing legend” himself, as he liked to say, JJ Maybank.

He was on his surfboard riding a wave as you watched in awe.

Once he saw you he started paddling on his board in your direction.

“Well hello there, how are you enjoying the waters of the Outer Banks so far?” he greeted authoritatively and you giggled at that. “I actually just got here, didn’t really get the chance to ride any waves. But I can’t say the same about you. You’re really good” you commented and a grin spread across his face. “Thanks” he replied.

He sat straddling his surfboard and as he got closer you noticed a giant bruise on his stomach, you gasped at the sight, he didn’t understand at first, then followed your gaze. “What happened?” You asked faintly, reaching out and tenderly tracing the bruise with your fingertips. “It’s nothing,” he scoffed “you should see the other guy” he chuckled awkwardly, but you weren’t buying it.

“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it,” you started “but just know my door is always open, you can come whenever you’d like for as long as you desire if you ever need a friend” he shot you a watery smile at that invitation and a comforting silence fell upon the two of you.

You broke it by saying “I bet I can catch that wave before you Maybank!” Then started steering away towards the giant wave that was heading your way, “Oh! Bring it on Y/L/N!” He retorted following not far behind.

That day was fun for the both of you, sun, surf and no worries.

When you got home you took a shower and put on a pair of grey sweatpants and a white oversized shirt.

It was getting late and you were beat from surfing and being in the sun all day, you had no trouble drowsing off.

You were sound asleep until you were alarmed by the sound of knocking on your window. You shifted the blanket off your body and got up, your warm feet made contact with the cold wooden floor, waking you up a bit as you approached your window.

You rubbed your eyes trying to make out the face of the blurry figure on the other side of the glass. You quickly picked up that it was JJ and opened the window, letting him climb in.

He didn’t need to say anything, knowing you already knew why he was there. You turned on the the table lamp, then noticed he had a busted lip, and a fresh cut on his cheek.

You were quick to wrap him in your embrace, hugging him dangerously close. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and started crying, tears slid down his cheeks, making the collar of your shirt wet and see through, but you didn’t care. He buried his face in your chest and you held him as tight as possible until he managed to steady his breathing.

You held his hand and intertwined your fingers, leading him to the bathroom without a single word being passed between the two of you. You signaled him to sit in the counter and he obeyed. You started cleaning up his bruises and cuts, bandaging what you could.

After you finished you told him to go back to your room. You went to the kitchen and quickly returned, plopping down on the bed beside him, handing him ice cream, knowing it’s the most comforting thing you could give, other than a hug which followed the deed.

You put on “Iron Man”, trying to lighten the mood with Tony Stark’s humour.

As the credits rolled he opened his mouth “I’m sorry,” he mumbled “for bothering you like this it’s just- I mean- I-“ you cut him off by caressing his cheek with your hand, he leaned into your touch. “It’s okay.” you cooed, a single tear slid down his cheek and you wiped it away with your thumb, smiling weakly at him “We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready, and until you are, we can say ‘it must have been the wind’” you quoted what he’d told you the other day, gaining a smile from him, a real smile, eyes full of adoration.

You pulled the blanket on the two of you up to your chin.

You shut off the light and muttered a “Good night” before drifting off.

He kissed your forehead, lingering for a bit longer than he should’ve.

He murmured a good night before falling asleep as well beside you.

[thedeathdeelers]

Julie x Luke Fic

ok i did it

i finished the song inspired fic (my first attempt at writing Juke lols) (also my longest fic posted to date?? over 2k?? what)

find it here on my AO3, otherwise under the read more cut below :)

let me know what you think!

————

i’ll go wherever you will go

JULIE

Saturday morning found Julie wide awake tossing and turning at 7:30am. Which was odd to say the least, as Julie definitely enjoyed a good lie in just as much as the next person.

She tried to go back to sleep, snuggling in deeper under her covers, tucking her hands under her cheek, and even switching positions a few times.

But still nothing.

Finally giving up on sleep by 7:50am, Julie jumped out of bed, planning to head straight to the studio. Her mind had switched on the moment she first opened her eyes, whirling with lyrics and melodies for a new potential anthem.

So she slipped on her large bear claw slippers, and padded her way through the still quiet house, gently opening and shutting the front door behind her.

She slowly walked down the path to the studio, fully aware that the boys would not be back from whatever it is teenage ghosts who don’t sleep do all night.

Julie pushed passed the doors of her mom’s studio, leaving them ajar, hoping to let in the cool morning breeze. She headed straight for the couch, where lay Luke’s (and now hers as well, she supposed) songbook.

She plopped down, enjoying the worn out feel of the leather and the softened cushions, dragging the book over & onto her lap. Flipping it open, she rifled through the pages, humming quietly under her breath, looking at all of the recent songs she & Luke had written together. It was routine for her to do a little recap of their joint material before she reached the empty pages, where she would start on something new.

She was just about to flip past their latest work, paper crinkling under her fingers, when something fell out from between the pages, fluttering to the ground. She looked down, brows pulling together, to find a folded piece of paper on the floor next to her cladded feet.

Curious, and fully aware that she had only just held this notebook in her hands yesterday, Julie leaned forward over her knees and picked up the scrap of paper, and unfolded it.

It was in covered Luke’s familiar scratchy handwriting, covered in words and notes and melodies, just like the rest of their shared songbook (albeit looking slightly more organised). Scratching at her scalp in confusion, Julie brushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear as she brings the wrinkled paper closer for her to read.

But just before she does, she allows herself to breathe in deeply, eyes closing as the scent that is purely Luke invades her senses, enveloping her in a kind of warmth that vaguely reminds her of happy summers past.

She only gives herself a few seconds of self-indulgence, before she pulls the paper away from her face, sitting up a little straighter. Opening her eyes, she focuses on the words in front of her, scanning through the first few lines.

A gasp breaks through the silence in the studio as Julie starts to process the meaning behind the song.

She was reading a love song.

Her brain takes a second to comprehend, and another to fully process and kick in.

A love song written by Luke. And there was a very big chance that it was written with her in mind.

Love songs weren’t entirely a new territory for them - they had experimented with a few ever since they performed Stand Tall. But this one was a fully fleshed out song, with an underlying tone that was so heartbreaking, Julie could already feel her heart squeezing tight in her chest as tears start to push past her eyelids and down her cheeks.

So lately, been wondering,

Who will be there to take my place,

When I’m gone, you’ll need love,

To light the shadows on your face

A sob clawed its way out, breathing ragged as Julie clutched tighter at the piece of paper in her hand, her eyes squeezing shut. He must have written this when they thought they were going to move on.

She presses her free hand, now shaking, against her mouth, failing to stop the new stream of oncoming sobs from breaking out.

Even now, with the boys being physically present in her life, uncertainty still reared it’s ugly head. She would be bobbing her head along to music, working on her algebra homework, or lying in bed scrolling through Instagram, and it would hit. She’d suddenly be very aware of the fear of losing her new found family, of losing him, unsuspectingly crawling its way back up from where it was buried deep down, engulfing her in a haze that wouldn’t let up.

Trying to bring herself back to the present, Julie shakes her head, eyes opening back up. She tries to refocus on the words in front of her, even as her vision continued to blur.

If I could, then I would

I’ll go wherever you will go

Way up high, or down low,

I’ll go wherever you will go

And maybe, I’ll find out

The way to make it back someday

To watch you, to guide you,

Through the darkest of your days

I hope there’s someone out there

Who could bring me back to you

If I could turn back time,

I’ll go whenever you will go

If i could make you mine

i’ll go wherever you will go

“Jules?”

She was so taken by the words on the paper, so absorbed in the world the words were creating, that she hadn’t noticed Luke appearing into the studio.

Startled, she lifts her head, hair shifting and falling back over her shoulders as her eyes meet his.

LUKE

Luke had spent his night just as he always did: Roaming around the streets of Hollywood, constantly checking out new bands, new music - desperately trying to keep up with the music scene that constantly seemed to be changing.

Him and the boys had made a pact that they would always take advantage of their time back on Earth, whether spending it with loved ones (Alex tried to sneak off and see Willie whenever it was possible; Reggie liked to stick around the Molina house, following Ray and Carlos around), or spending it enriching their already deep knowledge of music.

And although he genuinely enjoyed spending his nights exploring the music scene with his boys, Luke always found himself itching to head back to their studio. Itching to head back to Julie. Some could call it pathetic (Alex), but he was over caring.

After having thought that he had somehow lost her, being forced to cross over or join some megalomaniac’s house band forever, he was through trying to act coy. He was head over heels in love with Julie Molina, and that was that.

Which meant that as soon as he deemed it late enough to head back, he left the boys on their way to meet Willie at some singer’s pool, and poofed back home (home. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?).

He was expecting the Molinas to still be asleep, hoping he’d be able to get a few hours’ worth of songwriting in before he’d be joined by a sleepy Julie.

What he hadn’t expect was to find a hunched over Julie, sat on their couch looking small as her eyes shone with freshly shed tears.

Luke quickly crossed the space between them, nearly jumping over the coffee table in his rush to get to her. He fell onto the couch next to her, reaching out to grab her hand in his. As was his routine whenever he’d held her hand, his thumb started to lightly trace over her knuckles, trying to soothe her the only way he knew best: by touch.

“Jules? Julie, what’s wrong? What happened?” He searched her face, futilely trying to make sense of the red rimmed eyes and the tear streaked cheeks. He was so preoccupied by the fresh batch that had started to spill over that he hadn’t noticed the cause: the now crumpled piece of paper wrapped up in Julie’s trembling fist.

But Julie would only shake her head at him, staring back with wide and glistening eyes.

Luke shifted, twisting his body to fully face her, extending his free hand towards her face to gently cup her cheek. The need to touch was just as much for her as it was for him. If he had a beating heart, it would be trying to hammer its way out of his chest. He needed something to ground him, to calm him down so he can focus, and nothing did that better than the girl sitting in front of him.

“Do you- do you want to talk about it?” He tried to regulate his voice, making it softer, tilting his head slightly to get closer to her eye level. He’d let her decide if she wanted to talk. He knew from personal experience what it felt like to want to let the tears and emotions pour out, without feeling the need to speak them out loud.

And yet - the lack of reaction on her part was worrying him. She still wouldn’t say a word, not even another shake or nod of the head - just staring at him with a mix of grief and wonder shining from her eyes. He didn’t know what to do with that.

But just as he was about to slide back a little, give her some space, he saw her lift her free hand, fingers curled tight into a fist, holding it up in front of him.

He looked at her questioningly for a second, before the hand that was still resting on her cheek moved to brush at her closed fist. At the contact, her fingers seemed to relax, easing the pressure on her knuckles. She slowly unraveled what was in her hand, dropping it in the palm of his.

As soon as he saw the crumpled piece of paper he understood.

She had found it.

His song. To her.

His farewell song.

He‘d completely forgotten he had hastily slipped it back into his songbook yesterday after their session.

He had planned on leaving the song in her dream box, where she was to find it after they had crossed over - a little piece of him, of his heart, of his soul, left behind for her to hold whenever needed.

But then they had stayed. And hugged. And laughed and hugged some more. And he figured she didn’t need to know about the sad love song he had written her.

So he had snuck back into her room late last night while she was asleep, and quickly grabbed it, shoving it into his songbook, with plans to properly dispose of it at a later time.

Too late for that now.

“Jules - I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to find this.” He scratched the back of his neck, song still in hand, unsure of how to navigate the conversation. He let out a long breath, trying to find the right words to explain to her.

“I wanted to leave you something that would always remind you of me - something personal, that no one’s seen or heard before. Just a little keepsake that you could go back to and read whenever you needed it.” His hand dropped into his lap with a soft thud, sound muted by the deafening quiet of the studio.

He chanced a look at her face, to find her still staring at him. Fortunately (he hoped), he could see the tears had stopped.

“I didn’t want to leave, knowing things might have been left unsaid. I figured I wouldn’t be as lucky next time round.” He tried for a weak laugh, but knew it wasn’t going to work. So he tried again.

“It uh- it was in your dream box. I know you said not to go near it, but I swear I just dropped the song in there and closed it. I didn’t snoop. Scout’s honour.” He did a little salute, two fingers held up, despite the fact that they both knew he was never a boy scout. He even tried a little shy smile, hoping she’d react to something. Anything.

And yet, still nothing.

Did she hate it? Did she think he was overstepping her boundaries? Did the song make her uncomfortable? He was starting to panic, even as he still felt her warm hand resting in his.

He let out a deep breath and tried again.

“I’m sorry, Julie, please, just talk to me. Let me know if I made you uncomfortable in any way, I-I-I’ll stop. We can burn the piece of paper and just forget this ever happened just please- say something.” He was pleading her, eyes solely focused on hers as he tried to gauge any type of reaction from her.

“You think I’m crying because it made me uncomfortable?” Her voice was so low, he nearly missed it.

He was not expecting her to start with that. But unexpected reactions were better than nothing.

“I- I don’t know Julie. You’ve been quiet from the moment I poofed in here. I don’t know what to think. But I’m so-“

“Please. Please Luke, stop apologising.” She shook her head, voice hoarse. Her lips twitched at the edges, the first signs of movement on her face since he approached her.

“This song- I-“ She swallowed, trying to dislodge the emotions wedged in her throat. Her eyes flickered from his lap, to the song and back up to his.

“Luke this- this is the most beautiful song you’ve ever written. I haven’t even looked at the music accompanying it and it’s already my favourite piece of music ever.”

Her voice hitched, as she tried to control her feelings. She cleared her throat, continuing.

“I cried because the emotions, the feelings that have been building up for a while now, all came crashing down on me at once. The fact that I really was this close to losing you guys,” she lifted her hand and touched his jaw, letting her fingers trail his cheek. “To losing you.”

Luke lifted his hand, covering hers.

“I’ll always be by your side Julie. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure of it. You know that.” His lips quirked into a half smile, recalling the words he had uttered the night they thought was their last.

“Could you- Could you play this for me?”

That surprised him. He wasn’t expecting her to want to revisit the song for a while. He lifted his brows as he tried to read her clear brown eyes.

“You sure you want to hear it now? We have all the time in the world. We could leave it for another day?“

She shook her head, the first real smile that morning, finding its way on her lips.

“No, I’m sure. I want to hear you sing it while I- while I can hold you close.”

His non-beating heart stuttered at her words, even as he tried to (unsuccessfully) keep the joyfully surprised expression from showing too much on his face.

“Alright.”

He got up quickly to grab his guitar and then immediately headed back to sit down next to his brown eyed wicked beauty.

Hm, that title had potential.

No Luke, focus.

He started tuning his six-string as Julie settled herself more comfortably against his side on the sofa. Her arm snaked its way around his back as she squeezed herself closer, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes, trying to savour this feeling, this moment, committing it to memory, before he opened them back up and prepared himself to start playing the song he never thought he’d get the chance to perform.

So lately, been wondering,

Who will be there to take my place,

When I’m gone, you’ll need love,

To light the shadows on your face

He could already feel the tears soaking their way through his shirt sleeves, as Julie’s hand clenched, her arm tightening her hold onto him. He fought through the need to comfort her, willing himself to finish playing her his song. He was baring his soul to her; the least he could do was do it right.

I know now, just quite how

My life and love might still go on

In your heart, in your mind

I’ll stay with you for all of time

He was nearing the end of the song, strumming through the last verse before he reached the altered chorus, bringing his emotions to an all time high. He sneaked a quick peak at Julie, her eyes closed as the tears continued to spill.

If I could turn back time,

I’ll go wherever you will go

If I could make you mine,

I’ll go wherever you will go

I’ll go wherever you will go

And with the last strum of his guitar, the final note softly fading into the quiet of the studio, Luke shifted for the first time since he started playing her the song. He gently moved the guitar from his lap, placing it against the side of the sofa. Turning back around, he then fully enveloped the other half of his soul in his arm, bringing her even closer to her rightful place in his heart.

FIN

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Parallels | Chapter 3

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist! | Parallels Masterlist

Characters: OC! Violet Grace Dawson, Luke Patterson, Julie Molina, Carrie Wilson, Bobby Wilson, Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer, Flynn nolastname, Willie nolastname, Nick Danforth-Evans, Dirty Candy 

Guideline: Sunset Universe is the universe in which Sunset Curve is famous and Violet is friends with Carrie, Julie and Flynn. Candy Universe is the universe in which Dirty Candy is more famous and Sunset Curve has broken up. 

Song(s) used: (part of) All Eyes On Me - Dirty Candy

Warnings: Mention of divorce

Words: 4,150

After looking through everyone’s social media profiles, Violet was convinced there was something more going on. Maybe her thought about having landed in a different universe wasn’t so wrong after all. 

She started Googling stuff, searching through all types of News articles and blog posts from people who thought they had switched universes. Starting out a skeptic, Violet started to believe their stories more and more as it all sounded awfully familiar. 

With her research and her mind set on the fact that she was, in fact, from another universe, she headed out to Julie’s garage where she knew she would find Carrie. She was the only one she trusted with this information, the only one that knew her well enough to know that this was in fact true. 

“I found evidence!” Violet announced as she entered the familiar garage. Aside from waking up here yesterday after having fainted, she remembered it from her childhood as the four of them would hang out here often when they were friends still. 

The three girls jumped, their heads snapping towards the girl in the doorway. With widened eyes, they watched the girl march into the garage with heaps of paper tucked underneath her arm which she set onto the coffee table with a heavy thud. 

“Evidence for what?” Flynn asked, taking a look at the papers her friend had just dropped in front of her. Her forehead creased as she read aloud, “Alternate Universes: Real or myth?” 

Carrie chuckled, “Are you serious, Vi? You can’t tell me you believe all of this crap, do you?��� 

Violet sat down on the couch next to Flynn and the movement caused the girl’s flowery perfume to well up to her nostrils, filling all her senses with the familiar scent. The Flynn she knew had the same perfume. 

“I didn’t at first, but after doing some research, I’m starting to…” 

Julie and Carrie exchanged concerned glances before turning to the girl as she started her monologue to try and convince the girls of her findings and theories. They wouldn’t just dismiss her without listening to her first, that wasn’t how their friendship was built. 

“So, I found some scientific papers that show evidence of alternate universes or the multiverse. The multiverse is a hypothetical group of multiple universes, right? Together, these universes comprise everything that exists. The entirety of space, time, matter, energy, information, and the physical laws and constants that describe them. The different universes within the multiverse are called "parallel universes", “alternate universes” and so on,” she explained to the girls, showing that she actually did do her job. 

“Yeah, but, sweetie, that’s all hypothetical. It’s not actually proven to be true…” Julie told her matter-of-factly. 

Violet held up her finger. “That’s what I said,” she said and pried a piece of paper from between all the other pieces of paper. “But then I found this blog; Parallels.com. She tells this entire story about how, one day, she just landed in a completely different universe. The people were still the same, but they lived different lives.” 

She handed Flynn the piece of paper first and the girl scanned the blog post to get an idea about it before handing it to Carrie. “You do know this is a hoax, right?” Carrie asked and passed it to Julie. 

Violet’s eyes rolled back in her sockets. “You don’t believe me?” she asked and only got grimaces as response from the girls. “You don’t believe me…” She shook her head in disbelief before grabbing the bundle of evidence and leaving the garage. “I’ll make you believe me at some point!” she called out before completely disappearing from the girls’ sight. 

Julie looked up from the piece of paper with the blog post printed on it. “Do you guys believe her?” she asked. Flynn and Carrie carefully shook their heads in response. 

“I want to,” said Flynn. “I want to because she sounds so desperate for us to believe it, but I think she just hit her head when she fainted and it’s all a bit broken up there…” She gestured towards her own head. 

Carrie let out a soft laugh at her friend’s reaction before turning to Julie and softening her face. “Do you believe her?” 

“Kinda,” Julie shrugged and Carrie tilted her head to urge her to elaborate. “My mom’s always believed this stuff. When I was a child, she used to tell me stories like this, about a girl who switched places with her parallel self… It all sounded like a fairy tale because the girl fell in love and stayed in the same place…” 

Flynn’s eyebrows furrowed. “That sounds familiar now.” 

“What if it’s actually true? What if Violet actually switched places with her parallel self and this one is Violet from another universe?” Carrie pondered aloud. “That can’t be, right?” 

Julie shrugged. “I don’t know what’s true, but I don’t think we should write her off as crazy just yet. Let’s wait until we have proper evidence and figure everything out properly…” 

Flynn and Carrie nodded their heads in agreement before getting up from their spots and following Julie out of the garage. It was dinner time at the Molina’s, which meant Carrie and Flynn would have to go home. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, guys,” Julie greeted before she walked into her house where her mother was preparing dinner. The entire house smelled of pasteles con pollo, Julie’s favorite.

Though, right now, her mind kept wandering to Violet and her story. To the idea of parallel universes. What if it was true and they’d lost their own Violet? Would she even be able to get back? 

“Mama,” Julie started cautiously as she set the table whilst her mother finished up cooking the meal. The woman hummed, urging her girl to continue. “What do you know about alternate universes? I remember you telling stories about it when we were younger…” 

Rose dropped the fork she was holding, a loud clatter sounding through the kitchen, before she turned to face her daughter. There was a frown on her face and her eyebrows were furrowed. She looked angry, furious, even. 

“Never, ever, ask me that question again. You hear me, mija?” 

Rose had never raised her voice at Julie unless it was an exclamation of excitement during games night but never in anger. It kind of scared her, though worry for her mother rose to the surface, overtaking the fear. 

“¿Qué pasa?” Ray asked as he walked into the kitchen with Carlos in tow. 

Rose offered her husband a reassuring smile. “Nothing. It’s – nothing.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s eat before the pasteles get cold.” 

Her mother’s reaction wasn’t a normal one and Julie knew this. She must know something. Something Julie wasn’t allowed to know. Something she was protecting Julie from. Or protecting herself from. 

Either way, she knew something and Julie wasn’t going to let it rest. She would find out what this was all about, why she got so angry at her over a seemingly stupid question. So, when Julie got to school the next day, she told Flynn and Carrie about the entire conversation. 

“And she just got mad?” Carrie asked, trying to piece the puzzle together. 

“Furious!” Julie whisper-shouted. 

Flynn shut her locker and clutched her books to her chest. “She knows something.” 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Julie deadpanned. “I just – I wanna know what she knows. Maybe it’ll help with –” Carrie nudged Julie in the ribs, causing her to shut up. When she lifted her eyes, she realized why her friend nudged her. 

Violet had entered the hallway and marched past the girls with a frown on her face. She was too deep in thought to even notice her friends at their locker. Her mind raced through the events from the previous days. 

There had to be a way to prove that she wasn’t crazy. There had to be a way to prove that she wasn’t crazy, that what she thought was happening to her, was actually happening to her. Parallel universes existed and she knew it. 

For an entire day, Violet pondered about it. During each class, she kept researching and researching. The people she knew weren’t the same people. They all had different lives. Bobby and his band were famous, Carrie wasn’t the lead singer of Dirty Candy, Kayla was, and they were friends with Julie and Flynn. 

Every time she passed Carrie, Julie and Flynn, their conversation suddenly halted, signalling to Violet that they were, in fact, talking about her. That was all they seemed to do, talk about her, instead of talking to her. It was what she needed, a friend to guide her through these doubts and thoughts. A friend that would believe her. 

Nearing the end of the school day, Violet made her way to her locker when she passed the trophy case in the hallway. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a picture of four people she knew very well. Upon closer inspection, she found Bobby, Luke, Reggie and Alex in an article in a local newspaper with the headline: “Local band takes the world by storm!” 

Something that only fed into her curiosity and determination that she wasn’t in her universe anymore. Those Instagram profiles weren’t fake. They were actually famous. So famous, the school had to put them in the trophy case with all the lacrosse and cheerleading trophies. 

Maybe if she showed this to the girls and told them, convincingly, that Sunset Curve split up in her universe and she spilt facts about that universe, maybe they would believe her after all. 

 Bobby’s words had haunted Carrie’s mind for the rest of the day. When she dropped Violet off at her own house and she got back to the Wilson’s mansion, the words kept repeating themselves, echoing inside her mind. 

What if Bobby was right? What if there was something like an alternate universe and Violet switched places with her parallel self? That couldn’t be real, right? 

Skeptically, Carrie opened her laptop and started researching everything. She browsed the entire world wide web, in search for answers to all of her questions about the situation she had found herself in. 

According to most websites, the idea of the multiverse is just hypothetical and no one had ever been able to prove that it was real. Though, some websites she found, actually found a handful of evidence for the theory, especially the blog posts she found with a similar story. 

All of it seemed so interesting to Carrie and she had never been interested in anything aside from music. She barely even studied in school, why would she even try and study when she was going to make it big in the music industry? 

But this was a whole different case. This was actually interesting. And it could help her understand what was going on with her best friend. Maybe this could make this more clear for the both of them and make things less scary. 

With all of her research on the multiverse, Carrie knocked on Bobby’s bedroom door. After hearing a soft “come in”, Carrie cautiously opened the door and for a moment stood in his doorway, not knowing what to say. 

“You okay, sis?” he asked, getting up from his king size bed. 

Carrie took a deep breath before making a beeline for his desk in the corner of the room where she put her laptop down. “You might be right with your theory on the multiverse thing,” she muttered, piquing Bobby’s interest in an instant. 

“What did you find?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper as though he was scared someone would hear him. 

The Wilson sibling looked at the laptop screen together as Carrie started her explanation. “Mostly just that the theories are hypothetical and it’s never really been proven to exist, but I found a website that claims there are at least five possible theories that prove the multiverse exists.” If Bobby wasn’t so occupied by all the information on the theories, he would’ve been surprised his sister actually studied this stuff. 

“There are infinite universes where we don’t know what space-time is exactly. The theory goes that it’s flat and goes on forever, or something. But with that in mind, it is possible that universes start repeating themselves.” 

Bobby nodded his head, trying to accumulate all of this information in his tired brain. It had  been a long day and he honestly didn’t want to think about anything too much, but this was important. 

“The second theory is the bubble universe. When we look at space-time as a whole, some areas of space stop inflating like the Big Bang inflated our own universe. Other universes will keep getting larger. So, if we picture our own universe as a bubble, it’s sitting in a network of bubble universes of space.” 

Bobby’s forehead creased. Carrie had lost him in her cluster of theories. None of these sounded anything like what Violet was talking about. Her universe sounded like one different from theirs. 

“Do any of these theories actually hold some resemblance to what Violet was talking about?” he asked, rubbing his right eye with his wrist to try and get some of the tiredness out.

“Yes,” Carrie responded and scrolled down a little on the website. “The theory of parallel universes. This theory suggests that space-time is flat, like that first theory suggested too, and with it, that universes repeat themselves. Infinite times over and over… This means there are cosmic patches exactly the same as ours, as well as patches that differ by just one particle’s position or two particle’s positions, and so on to the point where the particle’s positions differ completely from ours.” 

Bobby slowly nodded his head, finally starting to understand the whole thing. “So, this Violet actually came from one of those cosmic patches where a few particle’s positions differ from ours?” 

“Yes!”

“But how do you explain the switching? Is that a thing?” 

Carrie leaned over and switched tabs on her internet browser where the blog post she found resided. “None of the scientific websites suggested it, but I did find this blogpost from Parallels.com.” 

Bobby leaned closer to read the title and introduction of the post again and again before standing up again and looking at his sister while the gears in his brain started to work through the information. 

“It sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” asked Carrie with a nervous smile. 

Bobby hummed. “So, this woman from the blogpost, she actually went through the same thing? She switched places with her parallel self? Like Violet said she did?” 

“Yep, it’s –” her sentence got cut off by the doorbell chiming through the mansion. Both Bobby and Carrie glanced at each other to check if either one was expecting anyone, but judging from either’s confusion, neither of them was. 

Leaving the laptop in Bobby’s room, the siblings made their way downstairs and opened the front door to find the girl they had been talking about previously. She was drenched to the bone and her makeup had run out, leaving black streaks all over her cheeks. Carrie hadn’t even noticed it had started raining until now. 

“Violet?” Carrie called out before opening the door further and letting the girl inside. “Are you okay?” 

Violet’s face crumpled. Her lower lip quivered while her forehead creased and tears started rolling down her cheeks. On automatic pilot, Carrie wrapped her arms around her best friend, not even caring how wet and disgusting she was. The sobs that raked through her friend’s body were enough motivation to forget about all of that. 

“My parents are divorced?” she cried out into Carrie’s hair. 

The question and the heartbreak the girl was experiencing was enough evidence for Carrie to believe their theory. Violet got switched with her parallel self and her life looked a whole lot different from the one Carrie lived in. 

“They have been for years, sweetie…” Carrie whispered, her hands soothingly rubbing the girl’s back. “But we’ve found a theory about your situation.” 

Violet pulled back from the hug and wiped her cheeks with the sleeves of her sweater. “You do?” she sniffled and Carrie chuckled before tugging at the girl’s arm to guide her towards the sofa. 

“Bobby, will you go and get my laptop? I’ll get us some drinks… We’re gonna be here a while…” Carrie ordered before walking into the kitchen to pour everyone a glass of fresh lemonade and then returning to the living room where she noticed Violet shivering. “And I’m gonna get you some clean clothes,” she muttered to herself. 

When she returned again, Bobby had too. She handed Violet the clean clothes and then settled on the sofa with Bobby, waiting for Violet to get back. Once the team was complete, Carrie started explaining everything she had found about the universes. They discussed everything from the scientific articles to the blogpost they had found. 

“So…” Violet started, ready to recollect her thoughts, “In this universe, Dirty Candy is famous and Sunset Curve isn’t? My parents are divorced and Rose has passed away?” 

Carrie and Bobby both nodded their heads. “You switched places with our Violet,” Bobby clarified once more. “Like that girl from the blogpost did…” He gestured towards the laptop screen in front of them. 

“Does it say how to get back?” 

Carrie shook her head and opened her mouth to say something when the doorbell rang again. Confusion rose within the three teenagers on the couch. Neither of them expected someone to ring their doorbell. 

The blonde girl got up from the couch and made her way towards the door to answer. To her surprise, her friends from Dirty Candy all stood in front of her, all ready in their dance gear. When Carrie’s eyes darted from girl to girl and outfit to outfit, the realization dawned on her. 

“Shit…” she muttered. “I totally forgot about rehearsal, guys…” 

The first girl’s eyebrows furrowed. Her darker skin glowed in the moonlight and her black hair fell perfectly across her shoulders. Her pink lips opened and closed, causing her to look like a goldfish as she didn’t know what to respond. “We always have rehearsals on Sunday night?” 

“I know,” Carrie replied, “But I forgot it was Sunday and now I can’t really rehearse…” 

The girl with the black hair Carrie knew as Kayla shook her head and pushed past the band’s lead singer. “Not a good enough excuse. We’re gonna rehearse. Is Violet here too?” 

The three girls made a beeline for the living room where Bobby and Violet resided on the couch. Bobby had his arm around the back of the couch as Violet leaned back, making it look like the two had made it just a bit too cosy while Carrie was gone. 

“Oh, what do we have here?” Kayla said in a teasing voice. “Getting comfy there with the sore loser, Vi?” 

The brunette sat up straight whilst her heart started pounding in her throat and her hands were getting clammy. “Kayla…” she muttered, but then calmed down as she realized Kayla was probably not the same, mean Kayla as in her own universe. 

 Violet coughed, “What are you guys doing here?” she asked. 

Kayla scoffed and exchanged glances with the other Dirty Candy members. “Seriously? Both of you forgot about the rehearsal?” 

When Carrie glanced at Violet, the brunette on the couch looked petrified. Even if they did start the rehearsal, the girls would probably still notice something wasn’t right. Violet would have no idea what she had to do. She didn’t know the routines or songs. 

“Vi actually got some pretty bad news today,” Carrie started her next excuse. “She uhm… her dog – her dog passed away today!” 

Violet nodded her head in agreement to try and make it look as convincing as possible but she could tell neither of the girls actually believed them. 

“Violet… You don’t have a dog?!” The girl with the black skin and gorgeous dark eyes pointed out. Violet recognized her from Kayla’s Dirty Candy, but she had no clue what her name was. All she knew was, that she found her insanely gorgeous. 

Stuttering and panicking, Violet’s eyes flicked from the girls to Carrie and back before pretending to burst out into tears. “Not anymore!” she cried. 

“That sucks, girl,” said the last girl, “But we can’t postpone the rehearsal. We have a gig next weekend!” The other girls all agreed with her and it only made Carrie and Violet more nervous. 

As the Dirty Candy girls headed down to the rehearsal space, Carrie and Violet stayed back a little. The both of them had panicked looks on their faces, unsure about what to do in this situation. 

“I’m not gonna be able to get anything right, Care! I know none of the dances, none of the songs! They’re gonna notice!” 

Carrie grabbed Violet’s shoulders, forcing the girl to focus on her. “You’re gonna do fine, okay? And even if you don’t, we’ll blame it on your dog passing, yeah? Now take a breath.” Violet heaved in a deep breath before following Carrie to the rehearsal space.  

“Let’s start with All Eyes On Me, yeah?” Carrie suggested while tapping away on an iPad before a bubblegum pop sound echoed through the speakers in the dance studio. It sounded way perkier than the music Violet was used to making with Carrie, Julie and Flynn. 

Carrie’s voice carrying through the space startled Violet a little and the panic set in when the other girls started doing moves and steps Violet didn’t know. She looked around the room and tried to follow the girls, but it was practically impossible. 

“Whenever I walk in the room All the focus on me The way I talk, the way I move They all want on my team”

Violet was always at least a count or two behind the other girls and more often than not, bumped into one of the girls, including Carrie. 

“Not tryin' to brag, brag But I'm flawless I'm taking over your playlist Ain't perfect but I can't miss, yeah The party don't start 'til I walk in I'm stealing all the attention Don't get me started on mentions, yeah”

“Okay, stop, stop!” Kayla interrupted. “Vi, since when do you have so much trouble keeping up?!” the girl screeched at the failing band member, the frustration and annoyance audible in her voice. 

Violet flinched at the loudness of Kayla’s voice and instinctively bowed her head down in defeat. She hated confrontation and she hated it when people yelled at her. It wasn’t something she was used to because she always made sure she wouldn’t disappoint people. Not her parents, not her friends. No one. 

“Lay off her, Kayla. She’s struggling with the death of her dog…” Carrie defended her best friend and reached for the girl’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “We’ll pick this back up tomorrow, yeah?” 

Kayla narrowed her eyes at the two girls in front of her. Something wasn’t adding up, but she wasn’t in the mood to even ask about it. So, instead, she just scoffed and made a beeline for her stuff that she dropped to the floor upon entering. The other girls followed her example, saying goodbye to Carrie and Violet with an apologetic smile to the latter. 

“Thank you, Carrie,” Violet said in a hushed tone when the girls had left the room. “And I’m sorry for messing it all up.” 

Carrie chuckled and gave Violet’s hand another squeeze. “No need to apologize, you never learned the choreography or the songs, so there’s no way you’d be able to get them right now…” 

Violet smiled a thankful smile before letting go of Carrie’s hand and pulling her sleeves back down her arms, sending a comfortable warmth through her body again. Everything still felt wet and damp and cold, even after the sweats she got from the sheer panic running through her veins. 

“So…” Carrie then started, “Dirty Candy’s not a thing in your universe?” 

“Oh, no… It is a thing… Just not ours.” Carrie tilted her head a little, confused. “It’s Kayla’s group…” 

Carrie’s eyes widened and a furious heat rose to her cheeks. “It’s Kayla’s?!” she shouted and Violet nodded her head with a slight smile plastered on her face. “How dare she steal my limelight?! Dirty Candy’s my group! Not hers! Oh, wait until I see her again!” 

“Babes… She won’t know what you’re talking about…” Violet told Carrie, chuckling slightly at the pure, raging passion that came out of the other girl’s mouth. “It’s a thing in my universe… Not here…” 

Carrie fell silent for a moment, letting the words ring through her mind. “Right… How about we get you up to speed with Dirty Candy stuff, huh?” 

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