#she drank apple shampoo that they smell like

[very-uncorrect]

Susie is constantly saying and doing some of the most sus and fruity things with Kris without even meaning to

[carylerxsecretsanta]

The Longest Night

Written For: mizjoely

Title:  The Longest Night Author: @peletiersdixon Rating:  G Summary:  It’s their first winter on the road, and Daryl brings Carol a token to boost her spirits A/N:  Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoy!!

It was obviously the beginning of winter—the shortest days of the year, nights getting longer and longer, with little sun left to guide them on their runs between makeshift shelters. Winters were milder down south, but the nights still dipped into freezing temperature, and it was a struggle for their ragged little group to find places to try to scrabble together some rest, if not actual sleep.

Carol looked around the rundown convenience store, and pulled the thin blanket she had closer around her shoulders. They were huddled together for warmth, but still clung to their little groups: Rick, Lori, and Carl; Hershel, Beth, Maggie, and Glenn; T-Dog, Daryl, and herself. The three of them were the outsiders, and she did her best to see that Daryl and T didn’t become too ostracized from the rest of them. Daryl was out hunting right now, hoping to find some small animal to supplement their meager stores. T was on watch, so she was left to her own devices and sleep was hard to come by with the cold permeating her bones.

It was close to Christmas, not that anyone was thinking of celebrating holidays anymore. But the time of year, the smell in the air, the cold weather brought all the memories to the forefront. Last year, she and Sophia had sat up on Christmas Eve while Ed had been working the night shift and drank hot chocolate while watching The Muppet’s Christmas Carol. It was the only bit of celebrating they enjoyed. The peace they relished when it was just the two of them.

Her eyes burned from holding back the unshed tears as she sat with the memory. Remembering running her fingers through the soft shiny hair of her little girl and the scent of her green apple shampoo wafting past her nostrils. The feel of her tiny body cuddled up against the side of her mother, burrowing into her warmth. Carol blinked back the stinging sensation and quietly sniffled into the blanket. The ever present ache of Sophia’s absence felt like a hole in Carol’s chest, one she had to sit with and could never ever fill.

She slid down onto the cold floor, head propped on a knapsack, and curled into a tight ball to try to conserve her meager warmth, pulling the blanket tighter around her thin frame. As the night wore on, she drifted off, awakening in fits and starts as cold shivers wracked her body until a warmth drifted over her back. She had the vaguest awareness of two presences surrounding her and felt a wash of safety and security filter through her as she sensed T-Dog switch out with Rick on watch. Through the mingling smells of body odor and sweat, and unwashed clothes mixed with gore and walker guts, she scented the fresh outdoors: clean air and pine trees, and she knew Daryl was back, and had thrown his blanket over her back. Falling back to sleep was much easier after that.

Once morning arrived, she awoke feeling slightly more rested, and sat up, running her hands over her face. Muted light filtered in through the windows spilling over the tiled floors, and illuminating a brown beer bottle sitting next to her on the floor. Her breath caught as she realized what was in the bottle. A Cherokee rose, browning on the edge of the petals and looking so much the worse for wear (probably the last of the season,) sat limply in the bottle.

It wasn’t the flower itself that caused her chest to quake. It was the knowledge that she wasn’t alone in her memories of Sophia. That Carol was seen, and known. That Daryl hadn’t forgotten, wouldn’t forget. She wasn’t sitting solitary in her pain. It was a flower that bloomed for a mother’s tears. And this year, this Christmas, Daryl had sensed she was hurting, and he had taken action, as he was prone to do. Words weren’t his style. But when she looked at that tiny offering, she didn’t need words. She had all she needed.

[when-jaguars-are-sick]

GENERAL: Frozen Friday for Five Friends (and Keegan)

Okay, here we go. A fic 🫣 This was the first story I wrote, over a year ago, and it's Not Very Good; My later writing is much more developed and complex. I wasn't sure if I wanted to post it, but I wrote it as a way to better get to know my characters and their personalities, so I think it's a good introductory story. There is NO ILLNESS OR WHUMP. IT'S PURE FLUFF. (Don't judge my movie choice, it's one that Charlie would vote for haha) After this, I'll start posting things much more on theme for here :)

“Jules, are you almost done?”

Colin was just finishing up work at the pool. He’s supervising tonight, and waiting for Julie to finish changing, so he can lock the doors, since it’s closing time. He’s been at the pool for 14 hours, drank 3 cups of coffee, and taught 4 hours of lessons. He’s looking forward to going home, taking a shower, and watching a movie with his flatmates, as per Friday night tradition.

“Yeah, I’m here” replies Julie, “Sorry I took so long.”

“It’s all good. Let’s get out of here.”

On the drive home, Colin calls his boyfriend Rowyn.

“Hey Colin! Ready for movie night?”

“Yeah, I’m just on my way home.”

“Mmm, long day?”

“Yeah.” He hears some muffled voices in the background, before Rowyn answers.

"Oh, come on, Max wants me to go make the popcorn.” Colin can practically hear the eye roll from the car. “Oh, and Jamie’s invited Keegan over tonight, too.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon.” Colin grins at Rowyn’s feigned annoyance, looking forward to his boyfriend’s popcorn (Max is right, Rowyn’s is somehow always superior).

They hang up, and Colin finishes the drive peacefully. He walks into the flat he shares with his four friends, and immediately drops his bag and walks over to hug Rowyn (who’s still making popcorn) from behind, dropping his head on his shoulder. “Mmm, smells good!” he says. Rowyn turns and kisses him hello, laughing at his messy hair. “Go take a quick shower, then we’ll start the movie.”

Colin walks down the hall to the bathroom, and quickly jumps in the warm shower. After a quick rinse and shampoo, he dries off, gets dressed, and heads to the living room where his friends are gathered. He drops onto the couch, and wiggles until his head is in Jamie’s lap, looking up at him. Jamie frowns at him as his hair leaves water on his pants, but he still runs a hand through his hair in the way that he loves.

“What movie are we watching tonight?” asks Colin.

“Frozen II” squeals Charlie, “It’s one of my favourites!”

“Oh, finally, a movie with good music!” answers Colin, just as Rowyn walking in with 3 big bowls of popcorn. He hands one to Max for them and Charlie to share, muttering about “weirdos who like dill pickle popcorn”, and hands one to Jamie, who will share his butter-and-salt popcorn with Keegan, when he gets there. Colin sits up, making room for Rowyn, with the third bowl of popcorn, movie theater style.

Rowyn settles in with an arm around Colin, putting the popcorn on his lap. Jamie’s texting Keegan, to figure out when he’ll get there.

“He’ll be here in a few minutes, and said we could start the movie, if we want,” says Jamie.

Max grabs the remote off the table and presses “play”.

Colin and Charlie share excited glances, as the opening plays. Rowyn glances at Colin, and smiles at his expression, hugging him tighter. Apple meows from the floor, wanting in on the cuddles. Colin laughs, and moves the popcorn bowl from Ro’s lap. Apple hops up, kneads for a minute, then curls up, purring. Rowyn looks at her and smiles, before resting his head on Colin’s shoulder to watch the movie.

As young Elsa and Anna fill the screen everyone becomes quiet to listen. They are playing with Elsa’s magic, to make an enchanted forest. Anna tries to marry off all their characters, and Ro says “Oh, Anna” with a fond eye roll.

Agnarr finishes his tale of the enchanted forest, and Anna says “Whoever saved you, I love them,” as she falls back onto Iduna. Charlie says “Yes, you do!” and Jamie looks at her questionably. She looks back, confused, and Max says “Hold on… Have you never seen this movie, Jamie?!” He shakes his head, and Charlie gasps. “Okay, nobody spoil anything!” she says, ignoring the fact that she kind of just did, and everyone settles back to continue watching the movie.

Everyone laughs when Anna mispronounces Ahtohallan as “octa-who-what”.

When Iduna starts her lullaby, Colin starts softly singing along, and Ro closes his eyes, and listens to the song. He loves when Colin sings, and it makes his heart go all fuzzy. He pets Apple contentedly.

When Olaf comes into the movie, Max gets excited, and starts mouthing all his lines. They are a huge Olaf fan. “Wait, so there’s no more ‘personal flurry’?” asks Jamie. Charlie explains that “He has a permafrost, so he won’t melt, and doesn’t need the flurry!”

Rowyn rolls his eyes, and Jamie snorts when Olaf says “You’re older and thus all knowing”, since everyone knows that’s not how growing up works.

Just then there’s a knock on the door, so Max pauses the movie, and Jamie gets up to meet his boyfriend. Keegan walks in with a little wave, and Charlie immediately pounces with “Did you know Jamie’s never seen Frozen II?” Keegan turns to Jamie gaping “You’ve never seen it?” He laughs and shakes his head. Keegan immediately pulls him to the couch and they settle in, Max starting the movie again.

When “Some Things Never Change” starts, everyone except Jamie is mouthing the words, with Colin and Max singing out loud. Jamie gasps when he realizes Kristoff is going to propose and excitedly squirms around before settling back with Keegan, who just smiles at him.

When the characters start playing charades, Charlie says “We should do that sometime, charades would be so much fun!” getting some nods from the rest of the group.

Everyone watches aptly as Elsa sings “Into the Unknown”, and wakes the spirits. After Grand Pabbie’s proclamation of “no future”, Elsa says to Anna “I have my powers to protect me. You don’t” and Jamie scoffs at her, and when Anna answers “Excuse me, I climbed the North Mountain, survived a frozen heart and saved you from my ex-boyfriend, and I did it all without powers”, Jamie emphatically exclaims “Thank you!”, Anna having voiced exactly his thoughts.

During Olaf’s trivia, everyone laughs, Max loving his favourite character, and Jamie loving the random fun facts.

Kristoff fails at proposing, and Rowyn snuggles closer to Colin, Key grabs Jamie’s hand, and Max and Charlie smirk at each other over their friends’ reactions.

Everyone watches in awe as Elsa opens the fog doorway and moves into the enchanted forest. Max laughs at Olaf when he tries to run through the fog.

Jamie cringes at Kristoff’s second botched attempt at a proposal, and everyone’s grooves to Olaf’s song, Max singing loudly, and Colin humming.

The conflict between Northuldra and Arendallian people interests Jamie, and everyone laughs as Charlie recites Olaf’s amazing recount of the last movie and explanation of this one.

Charlie and Jamie coo at the fire spirit, and Keegan looks at his boyfriend in amusement.

The siblings discover that their mother was Northuldra, and rescued their father. “Oh, I get it now, what you said at the beginning, Charlie”, said Jamie.

Keegan says “I’m so glad that Kristoff found another reindeer lover!”

“Honeymaren is totally Elsa’s girlfriend in the future, I mean, come on, they’re so cute together!” squeals Charlie.

When Anna chooses Elsa over Kristoff, thinking he left her, Jamie gasps, and almost crushes Keegan’s hand. Keegan carefully extracts his hand, and Jamie whispers “Sorry Key.” They then shift so that Keegan’s hugging Jamie from behind, so they can more easily cuddle.

Charlie and Max sing along to Kristoff’s wonderful love ballad, while Keegan stifles his laughter, and Jamie watches in surprise.

Colin, meanwhile, is stifling a yawn, which of course, Ro notices. After Kristoff’s song, he suggests an intermission to clean up a bit, and get a break. He moves the popcorn bowl and shifts Apple out of the way.

He then changes his position so Colin can lay down, with his head in his lap. Colin smiles at him gratefully, while everyone settles back down.

Charlie gets Sage out of her cage, to snuggle with her, grabbing a carrot for her to snack on.

Once the movie is playing again, Keegan and Rowyn are more focused on the boys in their laps, than the movie itself. Ro’s playing with Colin’s hair, watching as Apple settles against his belly. Key’s watching Jamie’s excitement and investment in the movie, and laughing at his comments.

Charlie’s on the edge of her seat, when Elsa and Anna find their parent's ship, and Keegan starts paying attention to the movie again, as Elsa makes the ice memory of their deaths, and pushes Anna and Olaf away.

When Rowyn looks down, Colin is sound asleep, with Apple snuggled into his chest. Anna and Olaf are in the dark cave now, and Charlie moves to wedge her way between Max and Jamie.

When Elsa is running against the waves, trying to get to Ahtohallan, Jamie is on the edge of his seat, cheering for her, and gasping when she fails. He and Max exclaim over the water horse, and Max and Charlie sing “Show Yourself” while Keegan attempts to watch both the movie, and Jamie.

Rowyn is sitting peacefully, running his hands gently through Colin’s hair, and covers him with a blanket.

“Ohh” says Jamie, and Rowyn looks up to see Elsa walking through frozen memories, “Ha ha!” Max says as she breaks Hans’ sculpture.

Elsa, talking to a memory of her grandfather, says “Fear is what can’t be trusted”. Keegan whispers “Wise words, your majesty”, and Jamie laughs softly.

“It’s so ironic that Elsa freezes this time, when it was Anna last time”, comments Charlie. Max and Keegan hum in agreement.

Anna realizes she has to break the dam, which will send a tidal wave to wipe out Arendelle, thanks to “the truth about the past”. Anna loses Olaf, and Elsa, and sings her depressing, yet uplifting song. Charlie and Jamie start crying too, and Jamie snuggles tight into Keegan, who kisses his head reassuringly. Max opens their arms to give Charlie a hug, and she gratefully sinks into it.

Anna wakes the earth giants, and Rowyn pets Apple as she startles from the noise. Everyone watches in anticipation as Anna runs from the giants, and Jamie cheers when Kristoff picks her up.

As the boulders fly at the dam, Colin startles awake, and shoots upright. Apple scrambles away, and Rowyn steadies him with a hand on each shoulder. He leans forward to ask “You okay?”, and he answers, saying “Yeah, I think so”, and Ro wraps his arms around Colin, who tucks himself into Rowyn’s chest.

Everyone moves closer together nearing the end of the movie, and everyone’s laughing and joking as the reindeer play, knowing that Elsa is okay, Arendelle is saved, and cheering as Kristoff finally proposes. “Oh, yay! Olaf’s back!” cheers Jamie and Max laughs, happy his favourite character is back. There are some happy tears at the sister’s reunion.

Anna is queen, and Kristoff and Olaf look funny in fancy clothes. “Our lands and people, now connected by love” recites Charlie with Anna. Jamie and Keegan laugh gently.

Max says “The spirits look so happy now, I’m glad Elsa found her calling, and Anna feels like a better queen anyway.”

“Yeah,” Colin sleepily puts in, “She found her answers.”

Everyone’s about to head out, but Charlie stops them by saying “Wait! We have to watch the end-credit-scene!”

Everyone looks confused, so she sighs, and grabs the remote from next to Max, skipping through until she finds Olaf’s extra scene. Everyone laughs when they realize that Olaf’s telling the story to Marshmallow and the many magic snowmen.

“Now, the movie’s over”, she says happily.

Rowyn leans forward to whisper “Let’s get you to bed, sleepyhead” and Colin smiles at him, sitting up for a quick kiss, before standing up and pulling Ro up too. Together, they head off to get ready for bed.

Charlie has lots of energy, so after returning Sage to her cage, she and Jamie head over to load the dishwasher, chatting about the movie.

Max asks Keegan if he’s staying over, who calls Alix and Jayden to see if they can pick him up. They’ll be there in a couple minutes, so he walks over to the kitchen doorway and watches his boyfriend talk animatedly about the movie for a couple minutes, smiling softly. Jamie notices him and walks over, just as Key gets a text from Jay that they’re downstairs. He thanks everyone for the movie and the popcorn, kisses Jamie good-bye and heads downstairs.

Max cleans up the living room, then they go put on pajamas and brush their teeth. After, they go join the post-movie Friday night tradition of a cuddle pile in Ro and Colin’s room. They’re the fourth one there, so they flop across Jamie’s lap, putting their head on Colin’s chest, who reaches up to ruffle their hair, while Rowyn plays with Colin’s. “Charlie, get in here!” shouts Rowyn affectionately.

“Sorry!” she says, running in and squirming her way into the middle. Everyone laughs, then sighs, then Colin starts a yawn train.

“Sorry you slept through part of the movie”, says Max.

Colin says “Mmm, it’s okay, I’ve seen it before. This week was long.”

Ro hums sympathetically, and Jamie wiggles out of the pile, saying that he has a couple things to finish before bed, and Max and Charlie soon follow.

Rowyn climbs under the covers, and Colin follows. They curl up together, facing each other, as they settle in. Ro reaches up for a quick kiss, before Colin promptly falls asleep, Rowyn soon following. Apple pads over, and jumps onto the bed, nuzzling against Rowyn’s back, purring happily.

Max, on their way to bed, checks in on Jamie, and finds him reading a book. They climb onto his bed, and force him to put the book away. They decide to spend the night, and Charlie finds them like this later, and joins them, adding a third person to a 1-person bed. Jamie actually sleeps, though, so he’s not complaining.

[aestheticsuwu]

🎶 A Sirens Call 🎶

Robby Keene x Doug Rickenberger

Siren Au .

.....

Robby tried to be on full alert at the party that Tory, his best friend, convince him to come to. He's not to keen of parties that usually are to crowded with drunk teenagers that end up doing not such good decisions. A place he rather not be in.

The party location didn't help ease his nerves when Kyler decided to do it at the beach since that last one ended in a huge mess ,Kyler's dad had forbidden his son to use the house.

Lucky for him he didn't show up to that horrible night. Tory had told him all the details about that night.

Robby had drank 3 cups of beer already to help calm his nerves for tonight . He could've simply said no to the blonde but she needed him there to be her wingman.

In which she clearly didn't need because here he was standing alone tugging his denim jacket tighter and a half-empty drink in his hand.

Tory was with Aisha, Robby knew they have this -i-like-you-but-do-you-like-me?- situation, he thought it was ridicoulous to him , it was clear they both like each other.

It seem to be going great between the girls, they seem to be in their own world where Tory didn't seem to sense her best friend anxiety going over the roof.

Couldn't blame her , with the whole heart eyes going on over there. Robby just hoped nobody could see his disdain of being here.

"You know Keene, you would have more fun if you wouldn't act all pretentious and uptight." Guess not. Rickenberger always seem to pick a fight with him whenever he was in a bad mood which made it easier for Robby to bite back and not feel bad.

There's something about Rickenberger that made him different in contrast of the others. Tory knew Robby didn't like her other friends but Robby tolerated them and acted nice for her .

Rickenberger on the other hand didn't like when Robby is nice to because he always knew it was fake .

"I would probably enjoy it if you didn't exist asshole." Robby said, his insides bubbled up seeing Rickenbergers eyes grew a shade darker that he's gotten too familiar with.

"The feelings mutual, Pretty Boy. All i got to do is just look ahead and you dissapear from my eyesight ." Doug said, tantalizing Robby. He gave Robby a cocky smirk and to prove his statement he stood to his full height and pretended to look above Robby while laughing .

The guy loves to joke about his height as often as he could which by now Robby had gotten used to ..

Robby just accepted the fact that everyone's too tall making his average height look short.

Robby face starts to flush and down to his neck from anger and before the asshole starts to think he's blushing, he shoves him by placing both of his hand on the guy firm chest catching Doug offguard.

Doug catched Robby's wrist to stay stable , He had a few drinks in his system already.

" Im starting to think you keep poking about my height to compensate about something else ." Robby snarls , not being able to hold back from saying something mean .

For a second Robby thought he had finally been able to manage to stunned the guy. He reciprocate Rickenberger's own smirk while he tilted his head up, leaning back his body towards a big stone .

But suddenly Doug lets out a dark chuckle , envading Robby's personal space and pinning him in the spot. Leaving him no way to escape. Left with no other option but to look up at the latter, whose eyes had a mischievous gleam in his eye more than usual.

The two boys were close, their body's radiating heat from one another, Robby could smell Doug's cologne and aftershave that smelled really good . Robby wondered if Doug could smell the salt water from his skin or the new shampoo that he started using that smells like green apples .

" Trust me. You couldn't be more wrong than that but i will gladly show you right now to prove it to you , Baby." Doug said , voice low and deep making a shiver race down Robby's spine . His thumb was on Robby's pulse point , gently pressing down and making sothing circles.

Rickenberger husky voice was kinda getting to him because Robby couldn't believe he's kind of considering it , He was already practically touching it and if the bulge was anything to go for. Doug is packing.

And a good dick is worth putting some petty drama aside for a quick hookup.

Or was that the beer talking.

Robby knew both of them had unresolved sexual tension which sometimes landed them into situations like right now really often .

One minute they will be at each others throats then the next ,that tension would appear leaving them frozen to the spot unwilling to make move the next move.

Then Rickenberger sometimes randomly would do nice things that seemed out of character of him but manage to remind Robby of the the first side of Doug he met .

"Thought you wish i didn't exsist?" Robby whispered into Dougs lips that were just centimeters apart , "And i thought you would've push me away by now. Why haven't you? " Doug ask with a shit-eating grin seeing Robby's hands on his jacket holding on tightly .

If maybe a few more seconds Robby would've hook up with Doug and deny it for the rest of his life to anyone who asked . . but the opposite happened.

"Robby!" He knew that voice belong to a unhappy blonde . Tory didn't like him being near Doug because the boy was trouble which Robby thought it was ridicoulous but promised her to stay away ,but its kinda hard to do that when  he had a pull towards Doug which kept Tory mad.

There was a time before he and Doug were always fighting , where he and Doug had a thing going on where the tall boy would be kind , offering his jacket whenever he was cold or simply hanging out making Robby feel nice and bubbly .

But Tory hadn't like that , she feared that Rickenberger's feeling's weren't sincere and just was looking for a quick hookup .Robby took her word beacuse she's Robbys best friend , and at end of the day she was worth more over a cute guy that was just simply trying to get his dick wet .

" You promised to stay away from that dickhead and here you are kissing him!" Tory yelled angrily . She stomped towards the water making Robby halt nervously not wanting an incident to happen .

"We were not kissing . We were arguing like always ." Robby said tip toeing around the water not wanting to slip but Tory made it difficult with her walking fast . He felt something went wrong with Aisha and her anger was more based on that than him almost making out with the guy that was a good 8 feet behind him .

"That's always your excuse and honestly im starting to think its B.S ." Tory yelled at Robby , She couldn't help but feel mad . She's is trying to protect Robby from getting hurt but she can't do that if Robby keeps being near the damn guy.

Tory like Rickenberger , He's her friend that she got along well . Making her full aware about the whole Rickenberger and Hawk's ordeal that at the end didn't end well.

" Could you not overeact like a crazy person right now ! Shit-...Tory that was not what i meant ." The cup of beers he drank was not working in his favor .

" How this for crazy " Tory pushes him down with an unexpected force making him fall down into the cold water in suprise . Tory leaves him behind before she could see anything .

Soon his body hit the ocean water, his clothes dissapearing into thin air, The pair of legs transition into a long tail that hit the water with a loud splash noise making him wince at the noise

His skin slightly glowed like if his skin contained glitter,  his golden and emarld tail shined in the moonlight making every scale look smooth and shiny , it made anyone transfixed into the shimmers of his tail .

Tonight was not on his side , he's in such big trouble and all because of Doug. And Robby didn't even get a kiss out of it .

"What the fuck !?" Atleast Doug had a decency to shout as low as he could only for the two to hear .

Looking up through his wet eyelashes at Doug who was stunned to his spot not believing his eyes .

" Don't just stand there. Help me !" Robby huffs , his tail splashing in the water showing his irritation . Of course the person that would find out about his secret would of course be the guy that he kind of had a unnamed relationship.

The world truly hated him .

[neitherlightnordark]

if seam had a tea flavour it'd taste like warm apple cider me thinks

this makes me happy to think about... apple cider's slightly bitter and spicy and goes all through your stomach and veins, warming you up......

i wonder if susie would like it, since she loves the smell of kris' hair and drank (?) the apple shampoo (???) for some reason? maybe it'd taste like something different to her, since she barely knows seam...

who else associates stuff with apples. oh my goodness queen would

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Comfort and Care

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

(𝑭𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆!𝑫𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒅 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

Blurb: Dominique comes over to help the reader feel a bit better after a bad week

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: so this is very self indulgent! I haven’t been doing too well mentally and that isn’t really portrayed in the fic but I wrote this because of that... I hope you enjoy! (Also I may write more lost girls content? We will see what happens! Let me know what you’re all vibing with!)

You cried yourself to sleep. You could barely focus on your studies and you didn’t even have the strength to brush your teeth. 

You wanted it all to stop. The feeling to pass. You hated it and you hated yourself for it. 

You didn’t want to get up and move, but you knew you had to. 

—

You groaned and got up from your bed. Your reflection was sad— reflecting your current state— your hair was oily, a sign you needed to shower, Your skin was breaking out again, and your pajamas looked wrinkled and worn from you wearing them for days on end. 

You didn’t have the strength or energy to change and make yourself presentable, but you had plans to meet your friends at the boardwalk. 

You didn’t want to go. But you had to. They’d be upset you canceled on them. You hadn’t seen them since last weekend. 

“Ugh! Fuck it!” They probably wouldn’t care anyway. 

You went to the kitchen to grab the landline and dial-up the Emerson’s home phone. 

If Grandpa hasn’t wrecked it yet. 

It rang. It rang, and it rang, and it rang, and it—

—it stopped. 

“Hello?” 

“Michelle?” You asked. 

“Hey, (Y/N)! What’s up?” 

“Oh um, I don’t… I don’t feel good… I don’t think I’m gonna go to the boardwalk tonight.” 

“Okay… I’ll tell the others. Do you want Dominique to come over? She’s gonna be pissed you didn’t show.” 

A wave of guilt flashed over you. You hadn’t seen your girlfriend in a week… 

She was going to be upset, and you didn’t want to upset her, but you really didn’t want to go out.

“Um, I’ll see her tomorrow…” 

“Okay. Hope you feel better!”

“Thanks…” you put the phone back on the hook and went immediately back to your room. 

You turned on your small tv, not bothering to see what was on, and buried yourself under the covers, and tried to fall asleep to the sounds of the television. 

—

“(Y/N)... (Y/N)...” 

You groaned as you slowly awoke. “Hhhhhhhh…” You rubbed your eyes and opened them. 

Above you was Dominique. She was straddling your lap, her hand cradling your cheek. 

“You’re up.” 

“What— what are you doing here?” You asked. 

“Michelle said you didn’t feel good,” She stated. 

“Yeah, but—“ 

“I brought you snacks, some blankets, your heating pad you left at the cave, I even brought some movies from Darcy’s collection.”

“Thanks...” 

Dominique frowned, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired. Tired of everything. I’m so overwhelmed but I don’t do anything! I feel so alone all the time. Which is stupid as hell, but—“ 

“Oh, Kitten, it’s okay… I get it…” 

“It’s so stupid. I’m stupid. I wish I got to see you more often,” You frowned. “My parents are just arguing all the time and I’m worried they’ll drag me into it. I don’t know if I can take it.” 

“Where are they now?” She asked. 

“My mom went to her sister’s and my dad is at my grandpa’s. It’s just us.” 

“Come here,” Dominique helped you get up and lean against your pillow. “It’s okay. This feeling will pass…”

“It feels like it never will. I was doing fine for so long and now I’m not! It’s pathetic.” 

“No. You are not pathetic. You are amazing and strong and doing your absolute best.”  

Dominique tried to give you a kiss, but you flinched.

“What is it?” She asked. 

“I haven’t brushed my teeth today… my breath probably smells awful.” 

“I don’t care. Pumpkin, I’m dead. My breath smells bad all the time. My eyebrows disappear when I vamp out. I kill people.” 

“But still… I’m disgusting. My skin is breaking out again and I look like an oily rat.” 

“When was the last time you showered?” She asked. 

“I don’t even remember. Maybe Monday? I don’t know…” You felt so helpless. You felt so embarrassed in your girlfriend’s arms. 

“How about we take a warm shower? That sound good?” 

“Okay.” 

Dominique led you into the bathroom and helped you strip out of your dirty pajamas. “Have you eaten today?” She asked. 

“Yeah. I had some peanut butter and apple slices.” 

“Anything else?” 

“Coffee.”

Dominique frowned, tossing her shirt off and throwing it with your clothes, “Coffee isn’t a meal, kitten.” 

“Yeah, but I needed the caffeine.”

“After your shower, I’ll make you something to eat. Come on.” 

Dominique stuck her hand out to see if the water from the tub faucet was warm enough. When she decided it was, she pulled the diverter valve, letting the showerhead run. She held your hand, helping you into the shower. 

You stood directly under the showerhead, letting it beat down on your hair. Dom grabbed your shampoo bottle, squirting some product into her hands, before lathering it into your scalp. 

Her body pressed against yours. It was cold. Her hands in your hair were just as chilly. 

You had become used to the feeling, but you still shivered. She was a stark contrast against the hot water coming down.

You rinsed out your shampoo and applied conditioner to your ends. You thought about shaving, but Dominique said that could be done another time. 

You ran your fingers through your hair, washing the conditioner out of the ends when you noticed Dominique’s mullet no longer styled. 

“Oh, your hair!” You cooed. “It’s all soaked.”

“It’s fine.” She waved off. “I’ll fix it later.” 

You turned the water off and Dominique grabbed a towel for you. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” You both dried off and looked in your room for some clean clothes. 

“Here’s one of your sweatshirts…” You sheepishly handed over. “I think I have some of your sweatpants too…”

Dominique chuckled. She gave them to you to keep, you didn’t have to be so shy about it. “Thanks, Kitten. What do you want to eat?”

“I dunno…”

Dom restated her question. “What do you have?” 

“Uh, I think chicken strips…”

“Pumpkin…” She warned. 

“What?”

“You cannot eat chicken strips for every meal.”

“I didn’t! I made pasta this week, and I even had a vegetable!” 

“Good! Good, I’m proud. Sit at the counter and I’ll find something to make.” A small smile snuck its way onto your face as you got yourself an empty glass and filled it with water. You sat down, watching Dom look through your fridge and cupboard. 

“Want me to make salmon? Or was your mom saving that?”

“Oh, um, if it’s in the freezer go ahead.” 

You watched Dominique take out a baking tray, and place a piece of foil over it. She poured olive oil over it and added some spices to season the bottom side of the salmon. She cut up a lemon into thin slices, placing some on the pan and saving the rest for the top of the fish. She placed the salmon onto the tray and added more seasoning. 

“I’m going to steam some veggies too. Can you get them out for me, Pumpkin?” 

“Yeah,” You got up from your seat and opened the fridge. “We just have carrots and broccoli… um, there’s also some rice leftover from… I think Thursday…?” 

“Get it out. I can reheat it.” 

You placed it all on the counter for Dom to have access to. You sat back down and continued watching her cook as you absentmindedly sipped on your water. 

As Dom steamed the carrots and broccoli, heated the rice, and cleaned up, she just had to wait for the fish to finish cooking in the oven. 

She turned her attention to you. 

she cupped your face with one hand gently, “You look tired.” 

“So do you,” You teased. 

Dominique squinted her eyes. “Are you trying to cause trouble?” 

“No…” You had to hold back a giggle. She rolled her eyes and kissed your forehead. 

“Lemme get you some more water.” She took your cup and refilled it. 

“Thanks.” 

“Mhmm,” Dominique glanced at the oven timer. There was a little less than two minutes left for the salmon. 

“I’m going to see if it’s done. It probably is.” She opened the oven door and—

“Use an oven mitt!” You reminded her. 

Dom almost scoffed, “Kitten, my skin will heal in a week—“ 

“It will smell like burnt flesh for weeks if you don’t use an oven mitt. And I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

Dominique found it sweet how much you cared about her, even if it was in a minuscule moment like this. She grabbed the nearest oven mitt— yellow, with a sunflower design all over. It clashed with her aesthetic for sure, but safety before fashion. 

Dom pulled the salmon out and poked it with a fork.

“yeah, I think it’s done. I’ll take it out and let it cool. Get yourself a plate.” 

You did as you were told, and you filled your plate up with vegetables and rice and your piece of salmon. 

“Are you going to eat anything?” You asked Dominique. 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“You sure?” 

“If I want some food, I’ll take it from you later, and besides, I only need blood to survive.” She reminded you. 

“Have you drank lately? Do you need to? You can have some of my blood while we watch a movie, I don’t mind,” You told her as you took your plate and headed to your bedroom. 

“I’m fine, pumpkin.” She shut the door behind you, put a random movie in the tv’s tape player, and made herself comfortable on your bed. 

“Besides, I don’t want to drink from you right now, it will affect your mood… and I want you to get better… Okay?”

“Oh. Okay.” 

Dominique stroked your cheek, “Don’t feel bad, (Y/N). I can get blood from anyone… but I can only get one of you, and I want you to be happy. You’re my girlfriend, I care about you a lot.” 

You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or not. 

Dom wasn’t always the best with words, and she had a bit of trouble saying “I love you”, which you didn’t mind. She showed she loved you in other ways than just words. Like coming over with movies and blankets because you said you weren’t feeling good, or washing your hair for you, or cooking you dinner. 

“Thank you. I love you.” 

“Mhmm,” She wrapped an arm around you and kissed your forehead. 

[vintagedolan]

Hi lynds I don’t know if my other ask went in or not but I just wanted to ask if you could write a blurb about the gif you reglobbed saying that, that’s grays when his kid calls him. Maybe the kid calling him and saying they can’t sleep and asking if he could sleep with them. I also wanted to ask if you have any other blurbs in the works and that I absolutely love mixtape and that you’re such an amazing writer with so much talent. I love your blog so much and it gives me so much happiness.

talkin about this beautiful gif from the lovely marika, aka @graysonsbailey go follow her if you don’t already!!

also, I don’t have any other blurbs in the works hehe the only time I really write anything that isn’t mixtape is when the inspo really hits, like now ;)

When Grayson designed his new house, he had one thing in mind - his babies. Sure, they hadn’t been born yet at the time. In fact, you weren’t even pregnant when he drew up the floor plans and walked you through them with that big Grayson smile that only came around when he was talking about something he really loved. 

“And we’ll have our bathroom right here, attached to our room, and then there’s one bedroom over here, across the hall. The nursery.”

“The nursery huh?” You tried to play it off at the time, act like the idea of carrying his baby didn’t make you melt into a puddle. 

“Close to us, so we can hear them when they need us. And then when they get older, we’ll move them to the other rooms, so they don’t hear us,” he teased, brushing some of your hair off your shoulder as he spoke, pointing to the little gathering of bedrooms upstairs and on the other side of the house - 6 of them, you counted. 

By 2024, you’d already moved one baby through the nursery and onward into the closest bedroom - your daughter, Denver. Grayson had gotten his life long dream of a baby girl, and she’d kept him on his toes ever since her arrival almost three years ago; even more so now that Luna, his second daughter, had come into the mix only a few months prior.

Which was why he was getting ready for bed at the ripe and reasonable time of 8:30pm. You’d finally got your milk supply up to where you could pump a few extra bottles for night feeds, meaning he could take on a few of them and let you get some much deserved rest. He loved it, loved feeling needed and useful and like he was doing something that really helped you, that really mattered in those first few months where a baby needs their mom a lot more than their dad. 

As he finished shaving his beard, razor hovering over his mustache, he heard a small voice from across the hall

“Daddy! Daddy c’mere! I wants to show you something!” 

Denver’s bedtime was 8pm. He knew without asking that you’d run her through her bedtime routine already, from the pajamas and teeth brushing to the story and forehead kisses. It was your special time with her, a reminder that she would always be just as important as any sibling that came after her. 

He should be annoyed. Should be ready to reprimand, to tell her that she should have been asleep by now, that she couldn’t keep getting out of bed and wandering downstairs. But he couldn’t bring himself to be, because that was his baby girl, and she wanted him... she needed him, and it didn’t matter what for.

So he turned and left the bathroom with a coy smile that he tried to hide as he passed you, leaned back against the headboard with Luna wrapped up in your arms, cuddled to your chest.

“You spoil her,” you said, not even having to look up from your baby’s face to know he was on his way to give your oldest whatever she wanted.

“Got to while I have the chance to,” he hummed. Would it come back to bite him in the ass when she was a moody teenager? Probably. But right now he couldn’t resist it, especially when he made it through the doorway to see his little girl with her big brown eyes and her brown curls, staring up at him in her dinosaur pj’s.  

He crouched down so he was on her level before he spoke.

“What do you want to show me love?” 

“It in my room,” she said, reaching out to take his hand and starting to pull him along. It would have been much more comfortable for him to just scoop her up and put her on his hip, but he let her lead him just like that, little hand wrapped around his index and middle finger as she tugged his crouched form down the hall and up the stairs to her room.

Denver’s room was one of Grayson’s favorites in the house. Cozy and warm, still kid like but with dashes of her favorite things, from the light blue of the walls to the paw patrol blanket on her bed - the blanket that he realized had been spread out on one side of the tiny twin mattress, along with four stuffed animals and Denver’s baby blanket as well, which had part of Grayson’s own nonnie stitched into it.

“I made you a bed! For sleepover!” 

He could have said a million things - the bed wasn’t big enough to fit half his body comfortably, he knew she was just stalling going to sleep, he was supposed to go get Luna and put her in her crib, prep the bottles for the nighttime feed. 

But there was such innocent excitement in his daughter’s eyes, and he knew that one day, she would be asking for sleepovers with her friends and not him. So he decided he was going to soak it up while he still could.

“A sleepover? With you?” He asked, letting his mouth fall open the way he knew would make her squeal.

“Yeah!” 

“Let’s do it,” he smiled, dropping down to crawl into her bed. She watched him, listened to the creek of the mattress as he climbed on and settled on his back, looking up at her. 

She cocked her head to the side, like her mother always did.

“What’s wrong?”

“You too big,” she frowned at the way his body hung off both the side and the end of the bed.

“C’mere, you can lay on me,” he offered, opening up his arms and trying to remember every detail of how it felt to have her climb onto him and rest her head on his chest. Her hair smelled like her green apple shampoo and he breathed it in as she relaxed against him. 

“You comfy daddy,” she said through a yawn after a few minutes, and he couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question. He didn’t care - even if he was uncomfortable, you couldn’t have paid him to move. 

“You know Den, this is how you used to sleep, when you were little bitty, like Luna. You would cry and cry and cry, but when I laid you on my chest you’d stop right then and fall right to sleep. Momma always said that we shouldn’t have bought you a crib, cause you just used me instead.” 

He waited for her to say something, or move. But she didn’t, and he smiled when he realized that she was fast asleep already, breathing heavy against him as her hand dropped down against his ribs.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, focused in on every detail he could see from the dim light in the room, illuminated by her night light. He kept talking to her, small little affirmations that he hoped were so ingrained in her mind that she would never doubt them - that she was beautiful, strong, so very special. One of his most precious gifts, one of the most important things in his entire life. His purpose. 

When he looked at his watch and saw 10:30, he reluctantly sat up, held her small form to his chest the way he used to as he readjusted and placed her in her bed, cuddling her stuffed animals up to her after he covered her up to keep her company. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before he went downstairs, grabbing a bottle from the kitchen and warming it up, knowing it was only a matter of time before Luna’s cries sounded out. 

Sure enough, one step into the hallway and he heard her wail begin. He tired to be quick, but you were quicker, already in the doorway rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“I got it baby, you can sleep,” he reassured you, stepping over to pull you into a hug. You sighed against his warm form.

“Is Den okay?” You mumbled.

“Perfectly fine. Wanted to have a sleepover. Go back to bed, I’ll be in there in a minute.”

He knew you weren’t going to argue with that, and he watched with a smile as you trudged back over to your king size bed and curled back up under the still-warm covers. 

It was like Luna sensed he was there, even though he knew she couldn’t see him yet. But as soon as he walked in the room her cries softened a bit, turned to whimpers. He sat the bottle down on the changing table so he could reach in with both hands to lift her out of her crib.

“Hi angel, I know, I know,” he cooed, nestling her in the crook of his arm and heading back for the bottle, smiling when she started to gulp it down immediately, only stopping to suck in breaths through her nose between swallows. 

“You’re mine alright, always so hungry,” he hummed, pacing around the room in his usual route as she drank and drank, eyes getting droopier by the ounce. Eventually, she stopped sucking, little dribbles of milk falling on her tongue as the bottle sat still against her lip. Luckily, Grayson had mastered the ability to burp her without waking her up - gentle pats across her back with her over his shoulder worked like a charm, and as soon as she was done he pressed a kiss to her soft hair and laid her back down, patting her back to be sure she was settled before he headed back to the kitchen with the almost empty bottle.

By the time he made it back to his room the exhaustion was starting to settle in. Still, when you shifted a bit as he climbed in beside you, he reached out and pulled you against him in the dark, nuzzling against you to get his bearing before he searched out your lips with his own.

“Girls okay?” You asked - an instinct.

“Perfect,” he reassured you. “Thank you.”

“Hmm?” He knew what you meant, even just from the sound.

“For giving me them. For giving me a family. I can’t ever repay you for all you’ve given me.” 

“If you always get up for the night feeds, I’ll give you 4 more girls,” you muttered, half delirious rambling making him chuckle against you.

“I think I’ll stick to my three perfect ones for now.”

[vanmccannonlyfans]

Cocoon

part i.

But in hell, there was relief in the utter helplessness. Here, your actions had both consequences for yourself, and others. You weren’t sure which was worse.

“How do you have so many of these?!”

Alicia had 10s of boxes of tests in her suitcase, as if they were hotel shampoo bottles or restaurant breath mints. The pink floral branding stuck out against the sea of black leather and denim that comprised her wardrobe.

“Get em in bulk on amazon, cheaper that way and saves me a trip to the store.” As if bulk buying pregnancy tests was as casual as ordering toothpaste or tampons.

You moved to the bathroom to take the test, stepping over used towels strewn across the floor. You were glad you were doing this in a place so impersonal, however uncomfortable. Whatever the outcome, good or bad, you would be able to leave without any memories tainting the space, never to return and have to relive the feeling. If this was your bathroom at home, you’d be reminded every time you had to go.

Alicia camped in front of the mirror, smacking her lips together after every layer of strawberry gloss, the wand alternating between tracing her plump lips and pumping the tube for more product. Leaning against the fake granite hotel counter, she fussed with her raven black bangs and adjusted her top.

“Is it ready yet?” She asked, without averting her eyes from their own contact, her lips now more reflective than the mirror.

“I can’t look..” The room was twisting more than your stomach as you picked up the test, double vision making it impossible to count the number of lines.

Was there just one? Two? How dark does the second one have to be?

“Does this look positive to you?”

Alicia cocked her head at the test, brow furrowed.

“The second line is faint...but it’s there.”

“Fuck,” You exhaled as you fell against the wall, exasperated.

“Didn’t you always want to be parents?”

“Well yes, but...not so soon. We don’t even have a place to live...”

Life on the road was hollow and lonely, even with your best friends. Playing shows every night to strangers who saw you as enigmas, then returning to cold hotel rooms to sleep until the having to get back on the bus or plane for the next event, repeat ad infinitum until you had crossed off a laundry list of places you had stepped foot in but not actually experienced. It all seemed so fun and exciting until you realized that you didn’t know anyone anywhere and were too tired to do things even on days off, and ended up just sleeping the day away and ordering in pizza. It wasn’t a viable situation for raising a child, and hardly sustainable for an otherwise healthy adult.

-

You laid on the scratchy quilted comforter, each tick of the clock intensifying your anxiety, like a bomb about to detonate. Every second brought you closer to confronting a situation that felt neither fully real nor fantasy. Like your whole world depended on what he would think.

The beep of the key card brought you back down to earth from the peaks of your existential dread. You couldn’t wait to be held, comforted, told it was going to be alright, even if neither of you had any idea what to do. His touch was a balm to your aching soul, one that no antidepressant could rival.

Van entered without a word.

“Baby?” You called to him, as if he couldn’t see you.

He remained silent, dropping his guitar case on the ground. After what felt like eons, he looked up toward the window behind you, as if you were invisible.

“I think you should go.” His eyes were sallow, skin dehydrated from all the smokes and shitty fast food and beers every night.

“What?” The single word came out like a croak, your voice evading you. First you couldn’t be seen, now you could hardly be heard, as if you were dissolving from material reality. As if only his acknowledgement made you real. “Van--”

“No,” He cut you off, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, the other on his hip, swiveling him towards the wall. His adams apple rose and fell without a word, bobbing like a buoy on a choppy sea.

“I don’t want to fight about this. I just want you to leave.” He looked down, running a hand through his hair before tucking it under his armpit as if he were chilled.

You were in disbelief. The same man who had invited you to accompany him across the world was discarding you as easily as you had tossed the test that said you were carrying his child into the bin.

“But Van--”

“JUST GO!” He belted, shaking the room with his volume. You had never heard him yell like that, hardly had ever seen him genuinely angry.

You struggled to catch your breath, hot tears erupting from your eyes.

“--I’m pregnant.”

There was a loud crack as Van’s phone hit the wall, leaving a mark.

“STOP LYING!” He thundered, grabbing your shoulders.

He was finally looking into your eyes. His were red and glassy and you could smell the last cigarette on his skin, so much so that you found yourself on the floor throwing up, then running to your suitcase like a wounded animal, then in the brass elevator, then out the lobby and into the street. You weren’t sure where you were going or how you would get there, just that you wanted to be gone.

When your legs finally collapsed from exhaustion, you found yourself out of breath in front of a bodega, simultaneously sweating and shivering from the physical and emotional trauma. You went in to buy a bottle of water and drank it in greedy gulps while scrolling on your phone to take your mind off of your predicament. At the top of your inbox was a flight confirmation, forwarded from the band’s manager. It was a plane ticket back home.

-

The sterile, unfriendly design of airports had always thrilled you. They were an exciting gateway to a new place in the wide world you hadn’t explored much of. You had never even been on a plane before Van had toured outside of the UK. The complete lack of rules and disregard for conventional social norms enchanted you; how strange a place to have bars open at 6am next to designer shops and restaurants more expensive than you had ever eaten in. Van would order bailey’s in your coffee while he had a morning beer, before sneaking tipsy kisses in cheap seats at 42,000 feet.

Now the airport felt like a portal to hell, sucking you back to the place you had escaped from.

You hadn’t told anyone you were coming home, or that you had broken up, or...anything. You hadn’t spoken a word to anyone besides the cab driver who asked which terminal to drop you off at. You weren’t sure who you would tell first, what you would say. If you opened your mouth, nothing would come out. Except maybe some incoherent stuttering and word salad, which fit how you felt inside--both numb and acerbic, cold to the touch but teeming with a pain so primal and acrid it could kill a horse. The water in your stomach felt like it was curdling, and you hoped you could make it through the flight without throwing up.

-

The cab dropped you off on the corner of your parent’s property where the guest house loomed, hardly visible through the gloaming. You fumbled with the key, hoping it hadn’t been changed since the last time. The door rattled open to dusty furniture and soupy air; musty and untouched as if it had been abandoned. You and Van used to sneak in here in for quickies and hold clandestine parties, lighting candles instead of turning on lights to not tip off your parents that you were present. The stain from when someone dropped a bottle of whiskey still marred the floorboards, and you wondered if anyone had been in here since you left.

You had hardly surveilled the place before the door snapped open behind you.

“Fuck, you scared me!” It was your brother, shaking the dew from his trainers. “Why are you back? I thought you would be gone until next year, at least.” You sucked in the thick air, scanning the room for alibis. Stretching the last few moments before you had the acknowledge that you now walked the earth all by yourself.

“Oh, you know. Just felt homesick.”

Your brother respected your lie, letting it dissipate in the stale air like the smoke from a snuffed wick.

“I never liked him, anyway”

-

Your parents were happy, albeit a bit startled, to see you. They had converted your room to an office and all of your old things from high school, like notes from Van and old chemistry notebooks, were collecting dust in the attic. It was good to have the guest house to yourself, to be miserable in peace without the lingering tension of having to acknowledge the reason for your return, or to have anyone ask why you were throwing up so much and sleeping for 14 hours at a time.

Your dreams were so deep and lifelike that you had trouble discerning reality from fiction in your own memory; your nightmares even worse. Once you dreamt that Van had come into the guest house bedroom with a cup of tea asking how you’d slept, how his baby was doing. When your eyes had burst open, you were cold and alone. Anguish gripped your stomach, forcing it’s contents up your throat then down onto the floor.

Other times the dreams were of him fucking you.  Most nights it was just replays of your breakup, repeating every time you fell back asleep after being jerked awake from the sheer horror of that moment, worse than any organic monster ridden nightmare you had ever had. Each iteration more fresh than the last, as if someone was rewinding it over and over again on a cassette tape, starting at a high pitched blur then ending only when you could feel his hot breath ghost across your face.

Some days you woke up so paralyzed by your grief you wondered if you were in hell. Each moment was unbearably painful and eternal, the mere act of breathing felt sisyphean. But in hell, there was relief in the utter helplessness. Here, your actions had both consequences for yourself, and others. You weren’t sure which was worse.

-

The clinic was on the outskirts of town, far enough away you weren’t likely to run into anyone unless they were there for the same reason. The ultrasound tech didn’t make eye contact a single time, snapping her gum as she dispensed the chilly ultrasound gel in a single deft shake.

Your chest tightened when you heard the heartbeat for the first time, eyes prickling with tears. The rhythmic thump, thump, thump ticking through the monitor flooded your heart with a profound sense of relief.

Finally, something that was yours.

-

Tour stretched on, every night sold out. Press junkets, radio shows, interviews, and photoshoots were plastered all over social media, news papers, television, even the bus station adverts and shop bathroom posters. You quickly learned not to check your phone outside of calls and avoided the media. It was easy when you hardly had the energy to lift your head in the first place. Isolation was easier than breathing, and a lot less painful.

You had learned the hard way when you had tried reading the paper each day. You could leaf through mindlessly, until page 6 which always featured a half page spread of Van and a nameless girl, all uniquely the same. They always took similar form, as if made in a factory by formula: tight jeans and low cut blouses, cakefaced and bottle blonde; each one skinner, prettier, and younger than the last. Some looked like they had school the next day. You stopped reading the paper.

-

When you told your family you were pregnant, your mother cried--whether out of shock or happiness, you weren’t sure. Your brother punched a hole in the wall, then went outside to smoke. Your father just sighed--a long, deep sigh that validated his disappointment in your circumstances and choices.  His reaction was the most heartbreaking.

Unlike your mother’s reaction, you knew unequivocally that his was one of disappointment.  You were supposed to go to uni, maybe Oxbridge or a fancy American school or even elsewhere in Europe where you could learn a new language and lounge on picnic blankets in the sun with a bottle of wine and fancy cheese while mulling over your Literature seminar readings. You were supposed to be interesting and clever and successful and far away from here. Instead you were back where you had started, some wash up’s discards, nothing to show for it except a new dependent on your taxes.

Your brother followed you back to the guest house, determined to argue as ever. He was a man of few words until he was upset, and then every word cut like broken glass.

“Are you sure you want to keep it? It isn’t too late for you to finish up and go to uni.”

You had almost forgotten that you basically dropped out to follow Van on tour.

You had told your family that it would just be a couple stops, then you never came home. Until now.

-

One day your mother phoned in a rage after receiving a letter from the school that you had been expelled on the grounds of truancy. You remembered you told her you were turning in your work remotely—an obvious, bold faced lie.

Your relationship with Van had changed you from a studious rule follower to a fool, lucky in love, dropping out of high school to accompany someone else building their dream. Loving Van was like climbing a tree, higher and higher with no thought of how you would get down. But now you were flat on your ass, with another between your legs.

Your personality change had sparked concern in your friends in family, allegeding that you were “not that type of girl” to abandon everything for a man.

“I’m not really sure what type of girl I am,” was your only response.

After all,how could you know who you were meant to be when you were so young? Being with Van, being Van’s, was fun and exciting in a way you had never experienced. You’d never really dated, and didn’t have a lot of friends outside your brother’s friends, which was how you met Van. He was always nearby, goofing around and causing trouble.

Your earliest memories of Van were of riding bikes through town, collapsing in the cool grass when your legs turned to jelly and you could hardly peddle anymore. Van would blow dandelion seeds in your face while you giggled and rolled away from him. All of the hours spent under the gushing lemony sunshine ended in grass stained knees and freckled cheeks that lingered long after the popsicle drippings had been washed from your fingers.

That was the beginning--the familiarity; the quintessential bedrock of love that matures as you do, which each outgrown shoe and lost tooth. The type of childlike innocence entwined with companionship that warms your stomach just to think of, having had such a pure memory to call your own; an endless syrupy summer’s day that no one can take away from you.

-

As you grew and changed from girls and boys to women and men, your love morphed right along with it. There were many long stretches of time you hadn’t seen him at all, either from busyness with school or a row with your brother. But whenever you saw him again, that warmth returned right back to you, starting in your stomach and burning up to your sternum, bright and effervescent.

Your relationship mutated from platonic to romantic one night at a house party. Alcohol was still a novelty to you and two bottles of beer was your limit. You and Van were sitting together on a couch, the dim room filled with your other friends, illuminated only by fairy lights and the occasional flicker of a lighter. Van was telling ridiculous stories all while gesticulating wildly, each one making you laugh harder than the last. The combination of the alcohol and throwing your head back with laughter so many times had made you feel like you were on a rollercoaster, vertiginous and bubbly.

As if you hadn’t had enough, you got up to get another drink and fell back down onto the couch--except you missed your original spot by several inches and landed squarely on Van’s lap. You laughed out loud at your clumsiness. If you were sober you would have been so embarrassed! But your lowered inhibitions helped you see the humor in the situation. The room was aglow and the world was still big; the energy of youth electrifying the room.

Van instinctively placed a hand on the small of your back to steady you, and quickly jerked it up towards your shoulders as to not make you feel uncomfortable. A twinge of excitement seared in your stomach. You had never really touched before, and this felt nice in the most unexpected of ways--as if you had found something you didn’t know you were looking for.

You studied Van’s face, having never been so close to it. The perfect slope of his nose, the confetti of reddish freckles across high cheekbones, the pink pillowy lips that outfitted his wide mouth.

He must have been staring at your lips, too, because they clashed together as if drawn by magnet. There was no saying who kissed who as your heads met, puckering together needily. You wrapped your hand arms around him, leaning into his warm body so that your heads were resting on the couch, lips married together. His mouth tasted sweet like fairy floss, the room spinning like a carousel. You weren’t sure how long you made out for, but it felt like you were alone in the room full of people, coiled in the sweetest embrace that made time stand still. When you finally came up for air Van was grinning like he knew something you didn’t, gingerly tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I hope your brother didn’t see that,” he joked, making you blush.

You didn’t remember much of how the rest of the night went or how you ended up in your own bed the next morning, but the mere thought of having kissed Van so publicly both thrilled and mortified you. Surely people would talk--or were they all too drunk to notice? Did this mean he fancied you, or was it alcohol fueled happenstance?

At school the next week you heard his voice echoing in the halls, and turned to see him hanging on another girl while fraternizing with a group students the same year as Van and your brother. He tickled and teased her before hugging her from behind, then kissing her cheek with fervor. White hot shame flared inside you, ruddying your cheeks. You hurried home in a daze, scolding yourself for being so naive. He was a flirt and you were a fucking idiot for allowing yourself to be involved with someone like that--your brother’s friend, no less.

But the next weekend the same booze soaked gathering reoccurred, this time with more warm bodies packed into a smaller room. You sipped from a can while exchanging small talk with a girl from your chemistry class, wondering if you should leave or have another drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Van had arrived with the same girl from earlier, making a scene as he greeted his friends.

You decided to have another drink.

Cracking open a fresh can, you turned away hoping Van wouldn’t notice you. You smiled and nodded while your classmate blathered on, not registering a single word she said, unable to concentrate on anything other the imaginary tension in your head. The slick condensation beading on the aluminum can was your only anchor to reality as your body flushed from the discomfiture as much as the humidity. Though you hated to admit it, you wanted to be the girl next to him. Instead you slurped more beer, hoping to reach a level of inebriation where someone else started looking better.

Eventually the heat of the room became too suffocating to bear, and you excused yourself for a smoke. The noise of the party was barely a low thrum from the cement patio, despite being eight feet away. You sat on the very edge of the pavement, stretching your legs out into the dewy grass. The damp chill grounded you, your heart rate descending as you exhaled into the ether. The stars scrambled against the inky sky, floating in and out of focus as your nerves melted away with each crisp breeze. You were more drunk than you thought, but it felt nice out here where you weren’t being choked by calefaction and confronted with Van with the other girl.

The first drag of your cigarette was interrupted by a body shuffling next to yours, thumping down beside you on the cement.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here by yourself?” It was Van.

You scanned over the back of your shoulder to see if the girl was around you. She was not.

“I’m alright,” you sighed, tapping the ash from your cigarette onto the curb.

Van wrapped his arms around his crossed legs, shaking his hair out. From under his fringe, his eyes searching your face for clues to decode your expression.

You exhaled the smoke so at least there would be something between you to shield you from his intent gaze. The chirp of crickets in the distance filled the silence. Snuffing the butt out on the cement, you got up to leave without a word. Van grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

His expression nearly broke you, wide eyes begging for an explanation, confused as it was hurt. Letting out a deep sigh, you weighed your options: stay with him and exchange meaningless platitudes or leave. Leaving seemed like the better choice.

“I’m going home.”

Van sprang up. “You shouldn’t go alone this time of night after drinking. I’ll walk you home.”

Secretly, you loved the initiative he was taking. He wasn’t asking, he was announcing. This type of attention and caretaking were foreign to you, even as the kid sister and tagalong. No one ever fussed over you. Even though Van was known for being sweet to everyone, you were pleased as punch he was fussing over you.

Dark was the night as you trudged home, guided only by the flaxen incandescence of streetlamps and drunken intuition. For a long time neither of you spoke, reveling in the quietude of the sleepy town in the dead of night.

Van broke the silence. “So how’ve you been?”

“Same as it ever was,” you sighed, still uncomfortable with the hidden motive of his small talk. “Is your girlfriend gonna be upset that you’re walking me home?” Van laughed to himself, even though it wasn’t a joke. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Only partially did those words alleviate the tension that had been badgering you all night. The alcohol poisoning your bloodstream was making you bold.

“So you just kiss all your friends like that,” You kicked a bottle down the road. Van’s head jerked up, turning towards you.

“Let me kiss you not as a friend then.” You stopped dead in your tracks. Of course he could be bolder than you. For the second time that night, you looked into his eyes and saw he was serious. You could feel yourself freezing in place like a deer in the headlights, but your bodies were being pulled together as if magnetized. Van grabbed your face as your lips married; exchanging greedy, hungry kisses. His arm migrated around your lower back, pulling you into him, subsuming your bodies as one. You kissed as if you couldn’t breath without the other’s air, desperate and smacking.

Even when your lips finally parted, your figures remained cocooned together. Your noses brushed at the tip, studying each other’s faces. Never had you seen Van so still and ruminative before. He brushed his thumb across your cheek before imparting a final kiss.

“How’s that for not friends?”

-

Soon Van was coming to your house to see you more than your brother and their friends. He would meet you in the hallway to exchange forbidden kisses, risking demerits and suspensions. Now instead of lurking on the outskirts at parties you were right next to him, the center of attention, with his arm wrapped around you.

You could tell your brother wasn’t comfortable with your arrangement, but he never said anything discouraging. You had never smiled so much in your life, and people sometimes didn’t recognize you next to him. You drank more and wore less. School began to feel like a prison, entrapping you 8 hours a day when you’d rather spend time with your sweetheart. Even in subjects you loved, you couldn’t focus. You tried to study while the band practiced, but you’d always get distracted by how cute Van was and his never ending questions about their creative direction. You started helping manage their shows, calling venues and arranging transport and making sure every piece was in its place.

Soon you were helping out so much that you were hardly home and rarely saw your other friends. As the band became more successful, you would occasionally skip school to accompany them to far off gigs and events, reveling both in the rebelliousness of playing hooky and the sheer delight of watching your favorite person achieve their dreams.

-

One of your favorite teachers had warned you against following Van, confronting you during office hours when you had dropped in to ask about an assignment.  There was genuine concern in his expression, as if you were his own child that was making a stupid mistake.

“I shouldn’t be saying any of this, but you really should rethink your decision to leave. You could go to a great school and study whatever you wanted. You’re brilliant and clever and could charm the most stoic of souls. There are plenty of people in the world like Ryan, who will want to harness your energy to use for themselves. Don’t let them.”

You had thought he was just jealous, or perhaps had a tiny crush on you. You smiled at your past naivety. He was right. Your brother agreed.

“He picked you because you were hardworking and clever and too sweet to realize he was taking advantage of you! You were the best girl at that school and he fucking knew it. None of the girls like Alice or Nia would have lasted longer than a second with him! They would have crumbled from not being the center of attention, nor do they have a brain cell to show for it. He wanted someone to support him and do all of the hard work while he took credit for all of the glory. I mean, he didn’t even arrange you as a manager or assistant like Larry so you could get paid by the touring company!”

You hated when your brother was right, because it was a gut punch every time. He was a man of few words, but those choice words stung.  You had organized much of the band’s earlier endeavors, like communication with agents and venues and examining contracts for faulty clauses and loopholes. The band was hardworking and talented, but still too hungry for success to make good judgements on their offerings. Without you, they surely would have fallen prey to a lecherous label under a contract that would have destroyed them.

“I know it wasn’t malicious, because he can’t pull his head out of his ass to think about anyone else. He surely knows you could achieve more without him, the thought just never occurred to him because it’s his world and the rest of us just live in it. And now you’re having his child in the town he abandoned while he’s living out his rockstar fantasies. Did he ever even call you to make sure you made it home, and the plane didn’t fucking explode with his unborn child on it? Does he even fucking know your pregnant? Does he even care?”

You turned away so that your brother wouldn’t see the hot tears in springing from your eyes.

“You can go now,” you mewed, hoping he would take the hint.

“If he sets foot in this town again, I’m going to fucking kill him.”

It was a promise.

-

[fandom-puff]

Hey, uh beautifultypewriter here. Was wondering if you would do #13 from the smut prompts with Arthur Shelby, but like make it soft? You write Arthur so well and I need all the soft things with him. Thanks so much! Love your work!

@beautifultypewriter hope you enjoy this 💖💖

Happy Birthday

Warnings: swearing (it’s Arthur Shelby)

“Happy birthday, YN, love”

Your eyes fluttered open and you drank in the sight of your boyfriend holding a tray of bacon and eggs in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. Sitting up in bed, you smiled softly, allowing Arthur to prop the tray on your lap and put the cup to the side. “Oh, Arthur, you remembered,” you whispered, kissing him gently and stroking his cheek.

“‘Course I remembered, you daft woman,” he grinned fondly. “Eat up, it’ll go cold,” he said, settling next to you and basically feeding you your breakfast. Setting the empty tray aside you leaned in for a proper kiss, arms around his neck.

“I love you Arthur,” you whispered, and he grinned, stroking your hair gently.

“Love you too,” he hummed kissing every inch of your face until you were giggling and squirming in his lap. “Come on you, dress up nice,” he said. When you shifted off the bed, he smacked your bum, giving you a cheeky look and giving you about 12 separate comments as you dressed and did you hair. Once ready he led you outside to his car, where his family were waiting. They all wished you a happy birthday as you set off on a drive through the countryside, until you found a lovely, picturesque apple orchard to spread the picnic blanket under.

You hugged Aunt Pol and Ada, knowing that Arthur’s culinary skills barely stretched to the bacon and eggs you had eaten earlier and they smiled at you as you all gathered in around, having a small feast of sandwiches and cakes. Finn insisted on showing you how high he could climb now, and picked you a load of wild flowers on his way back. You grinned and kissed the little boy’s cheek causing him to squirm and wipe it with his hand, and you laughed heartily, letting Arthur thread the flowers through your hair in a lopsided crown.

“There, the birthday queen,” he said triumphantly, tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning to press a tender kiss to your mouth.

“Urgh! Arthur and YN are snogging,” Finn whispered to John, who snorted into his ginger beer and told his little brother to shut up.

As the afternoon wore on, the entire clan was stuffed on Polly and ada’s cooking. Tommy was leaning against a tree trunk with his eyes shut and his hands folded in his lap; John was lolling on his tummy, playing marbles with Finn; Ada was reading a book she had brought along and Polly was baring her face to the sun, her shoes kicked off and her feet bare.

Away from the rest of the family, if only a few metres, you and Arthur lay snuggled on the grass, pointing out funny shapes in the clouds and pressing soft kisses to one another’s lips, cheeks and chins every now and then. You had even more flowers woven into your hair (Ada had braided them into a sort of crown) and your eyes were sparkling with joy. “Arthur... this has been the best birthday ever,” you murmured after he pointed out a horseshoe-shaped cloud. He smiled softly and looked down at you, rubbing your side.

“Anything for my girl,” he murmured into your hair, the sweet smell of your shampoo and the wildflowers fogging his senses and filling him with a feeling of pure calm.

“Come on Arthur! We wanna be back before sundown so we can get ready for a pissup!” John called, ruining the moment and bursting your tranquil little bubble. You giggled and sat up, stretching, and Arthur was sure he was looking at an angel: your hair caught the afternoon light beautifully and you smiled sweetly down at him.

“Come on you,” you grinned, standing up and pulling him with you. But he didn’t come all the way up. He stayed on one knee and a hush fell over his rowdy family. You stared down at him with wide eyes as he pulled a little blue box out of his inside pocket and opened it, presenting a beautiful silver ring to you, the gemstone glinting and casting rainbow prisms all over your shocked face.

“YN YLN... I’m really shit at words...” John snorted but Ada elbowed him in the ribs. “And I know my head ain’t screwed on straight, but when I’m with you... none of that matters. You... you make me whole YN. You have the words that I don’t, and you keep my head from falling off and I love you, I really do and-and... YN... will you marry me?”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes and streaming down your face as you listened to his muddled words he spoke in that tone he had when he bashful, unsure and lacking confidence. Pressing your lips together, you nodded, opening and closing your mouth despite no sound coming out until eventually you managed a whispered “of course I’ll marry you,” you said through tears as Arthur slid the ring onto your finger as you leaned down to hug him tightly. He picked you up and spun you around as his family cheered and you grinned like an idiot, kissing him lovingly.

“Come on you lovebirds!” Tommy called, beckoning you to the car. “I’ll drive,” he smirked. “No funny business in the back, Arthur,”

You giggled as Arthur walked you to the car. You smiled softly as he brushed his lips across you knuckles. “I bloody love you, YN.” He said softly, tears wetting the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. “My girl, my beautiful girl, soon to be my beautiful wife...”

“Your girl... all yours,” you murmured, kissing him softly.

“Hmm... mine,” he agreed. Helping you into the car and holding you close to him the whole way home.

[mrsacklesevansmgk]

Cursed - Chapter 2: Adam

Cursed Series. Catch up here

All mistakes are my own, as this hasn't been reviewed by anyone.

You do not have permission to copy my work anywhere. This is an original story written by me.

“Yours is the light by which my spirit's born, yours is the darkness of my soul's return, you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.” ― E. E. Cummings

Sitting next to Lana in English this morning was a unique experience. I could tell she was watching me out of the corner of her eye, or sneakily through the strands of her hair. I frazzled her. I knew that much. But she frazzled me too. She’d steal glances at me, thinking I wouldn’t notice. And to be honest, if I were the average seventeen-year-old boy, I wouldn’t have. But I am anything but average or normal, so I noticed. Oh, if she only knew.

There was nothing about this girl that I wouldn’t notice.

I drank her in, every chance I got.

I know that sounds extreme, but just sitting next to her in class is something that I never thought would happen.

I intentionally leant a little bit closer to Lana and was rewarded with the colour in her cheeks flushing red and her pulse began to race a little bit. She dropped her pen and wiped her palms on her jeans then tried to hide her face behind her hair. I don’t know if she noticed me watching her, but I thought she was incredibly adorable at that moment. This hour would be one of the best hours of my life if it was spent in the presence of this amazing person. I was soaking in these moments, because I knew I would have to leave soon and switch off from the human world.

I let my mind wander back to the first time I had ever seen Lana. She was walking through the local mall with her hands in the pockets of an oversized hoodie, headphones in her ears and head down. She wasn’t watching where she was going and was constantly knocking into people. I watched as she made her way from shop to shop, stopping now and then to pick up random items. By the look on her face, she wanted to be anywhere but here. I left the mall that day thinking about the strange girl I had encountered but thinking, the way my life goes, I’d never see her again. Two weeks later while I was walking through the forest, a strange feeling came over me. I had this undeniable urge to walk to the stream I could hear in the distance. I’d never gone that far before, why did I feel compelled to now? I walked quickly but quietly towards the stream, coming out near a large oak tree. Across the river from me was the girl from the mall...leaning down washing her hands in the flowing water.. Except she wasn’t really washing her hands. She had her hands stretched out in front of her in the water and her eyes closed. It was like she was communicating with the stream. I felt like I was intruding so I silently backtracked and walked away. But for many nights since then I often found myself wondering why I had the sudden urge to go to the stream that I’d never been to before, and there she was.

That was about two months ago now. I’d moved to the area and had grown bored of doing the same thing every single day. I didn’t need to attend school, but I liked the idea of it. Interacting with every-day people, learning something new, even if just from a different perspective. And so, I was completely gobsmacked to look up and see her frowning down at me this morning. And I tried to play it cool and not let on that she frazzled me but boy was I frazzled. This wasn’t normal. The urge to go to the stream that day, the fact that of all the schools I could have gone to, I picked the one that she attended, and I also happened to be in a class with her.

My life was too strange to take that just as a coincidence. Coincidences didn’t happen in my world. But I also decided to take it as a sign. The universe was pushing Lana and I together for a reason and I didn’t need a reason to want to get to know Lana, but I took it as a sign anyway.

I came back to the present moment. I could sense Lana peeking at me through her hair. She thought she was so smart about it, that I wouldn’t notice. But I noticed. She really was a peculiar person. I got the vibe that she’d be perfectly content slinking about in the background, never the centre of attention. The way she dressed in oversized, baggy and ‘messy’ clothes tells me that she wants to hide away.

She was sitting incredibly still, only her hand moving as she scribbled patterns across the front of her folder. I couldn’t see what she was drawing, but I could tell it was a repetitive motion and she was going over and over it, pressing it in soft cardboard folder, making the lines darker and darker before moving on to repeat the cycle in a new spot, sometimes in a new clear space, sometimes overlapping the previous one.

I needed to talk to her. I knew that much. I had already tried, and she pretty much shut me down and zoned me out, which wasn’t hard considering she had music blasting through her headphones. She was doing her best to ignore me and I was doing my best to break down those walls, so, I was incredibly grateful when Mr Lord volunteered Lana to show me around because it meant she had to talk to me,or at least give me the time of day. Anything was better than being point blank ignored.

The bell rang, indicating the end of the first period. I packed up my books and grabbed out my class schedule to see where I needed to go next. I was hoping that Lana would be able to show me, or at least give me directions. We stood almost simultaneously, and we collided causing Lana to stumble back. I instinctively reached out to steady her and asked “Are you alright?” “Fine thanks, I’m just really clumsy” she said as a smile grew on my face. She pulled her backpack onto her shoulder and walked towards the door, stopping only for a moment to look back at me. I remained standing in that spot, sort of in a daze. This was the first time I had been close enough to Lana. And this is going to sound creepy, but it was the first time I’ve been able to fully take her in. She smelled both earthy and fruity, ‘must be her shampoo or body wash’ I thought to myself. The fruity smell reminded me of my mother, who, before everything changed, would spend hours a day in the kitchen baking fruity tarts, apple pies, cakes...you name it. The scent triggered something else, a memory that I had long suppressed. I stood there, shaking my head, literally shaking the memory away. I couldn’t face that right now.

As I stood there, looking after Lana as she walked away, struggling with my memories and trying to gain control of my senses, I came to a realisation. Lana intrigued me; that was obvious. This incredible, weirdly unique girl intrigued me. She was the polar opposite of me – even before things changed. I’ve always been graceful, steady on my feet, confident and content being the centre of attention. She’s the opposite; clumsy in all ways, she had a weird confidence, in the sense that she was completely comfortable with who she was and she wouldn’t change herself for anyone, but she wasn’t confident in social settings and she most definitely did not want to be seen...by anyone.

From that moment at the stream, I felt compelled to get to know Lana, to talk to her, to be near her. But I also knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. I wasn’t a normal teenage boy by any means. I wasn’t safe for her and I shouldn’t want to be in her life or put her life in danger. But I couldn’t help it. I needed her, that much I knew. I needed Lana. I would do anything to make sure that I never hurt her or caused her pain. I would do anything to protect her from my world. I knew the risks and complications that came from being in my life...I was willing to take that chance. Was it unfair of me not to let her make the decision herself, especially by keeping the truth from her? Probably. But if I did right by Lana, then she’d never know.

One thing I did know, I wanted Lana in my life. But before I could do that, I had to learn to control my senses around her. They went into overdrive and I knew it was because there was something special about her, but also because I was on high alert. Being back at school meant that literally every single one of these kids and teachers’ lives were in danger, just by my presence here. But Lana compounded that. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, ever, because of me. But I would move heaven and earth to ensure Lana’s safety.

[petals-and-bullets]

Fruit Salad

Pairing: Axl Rose x OC

Word Count: 1260

Info: Parties aren’t ideal for girls like her. They’re more ideal for the men her brother spent his time with - at least, she thought so, until an old childhood friend forced her to meet his bandmate. A bit of an experiment, if you will! If people like this enough, I’ll create somewhat of a series from it, so any comments at all are wholly welcome!!

She wasn’t meant to be here. She didn’t belong there. She was one of the most popular up-and-coming ballerinas in America. Damn it, she had been shipped off to Russia by her parents when she even uttered her interest in ballet when she was four, and yet there she was, stood in the middle of a crowded room, half-empty bottle of wine in hand. Veronica didn’t even know why she was there – well, she did, because it was her twin brother’s party – but she didn’t know why she was there.

A corner of the room exploded into laughter and she glanced over at the crowd surrounding a guy with blonde hair who was showing off some sort or trick; she could see something he was spinning in his hands, and she guessed it was either some sort of sports equipment or an instrument. The sound of banging against a wall confirmed it was the latter, and she could only guess that it was a pair of drumsticks.

“You look lost.”

She turned at the familiar voice, her eyes widening as she registered the tall figure before her.

“Duff?”

“Hey, Fruit Salad!” Duff grinned down at her and pulled her to his chest in a tight hug, pressing his nose against her red locks in order to inhale the faint scent of apple that had clung onto her locks. He always used to call her a fruit salad – considering she had managed to figure out how to make perfume from lemons at the age of 13, and that she religiously used the same apple shampoo from the same age – it seemed to fit. It seemed that the habit still hadn’t been dropped, and Duff was more than happy to realise that. Having experienced puberty together as neighbours, the two had been inseparable once she returned from her schooling in Russia at the age of 13. It wasn’t until Duff announced his plans to leave Seattle and drive down to LA to make it big that they lost touch, but the moon that had been permanently drawn into her skin on her side promised that even if the world was between them, they’d never lose touch with each other.

Once Duff released her, she rested her free hand on her hip and stepped back to inspect his appearance – denim jacket, pants that were evidently a little too tight, scuffed cowboy boots, and the dark roots peeking out from the poor dye job on the mop he called his hair. She stifled a snort at the memory of the man walking into dinner with her family with bright blue hair when they were teenagers, much to her father’s horror. LA hadn’t changed him. He was still Duffy, he was still Sunshine. He was still her best friend.

“Your brother didn’t tell me that you were in LA.”

“My twin didn’t tell you a lot of things, it seems. I’ve got a place here – I managed to get a job in the theatre, so now I’m their resident Odile,” she grinned, before she glanced around the room, “speaking of Vincent, where is he? It’s his party, and I haven’t even seen him.”

“His wife came and started yelling at him or something. I guess she wasn’t pleased about the type of people that showed up at her house.”

“Really? And just what kind of people showed up? Not punk rockers, I hope,” Veronica teased, before she winked playfully at Duff and took a drink from the bottle in her hand. At the taste, she wrinkled her nose and shoved it into his hand after sending a glare at the liquid that remained in the bottle. She wasn’t too surprised when the blonde – well, wannabe blonde – just shrugged and drank the rest of the bottle before dropping it onto a nearby table. He barely flinched when she rolled her eyes, instead grabbing a bottle of vodka from the bar behind him.

“Worse. Sports people,” he joked, dodging the playful kick she sent his way in response to his teasing, “but really, we’re not all that bad. He invited the whole band, and he’s gettin’ on great with them. It’s his wife who hates us.”

He stuck his tongue out at the woman in question’s back, and then grinned mischievously at Veronica when she let out a soft snort. Duff never did approve of Vincent’s choice in women – not like Veronica did either, but at least she didn’t mock them behind their backs. No, that was Duff’s job; he was the one who always got her into trouble, and she was the one who got them out of trouble. At least, that was what their parents believed – Veronica had just as much a knack for finding trouble as Duff, and it seemed to find her at the same rate.

At least, that’s what she believed – especially when the sound of a slap resounded through the room, and a brunette stormed past. As soon as she was out of view, Duff grimaced and downed the rest of his alcohol before he paused, his smile slowly turning into a smirk as he looked from Veronica to the seething singer stood but a few steps away.

“Duff, what are you thinking?”

“Nothing! Hey, have you met Axl, yet?”

“Who?”

“Axl!”

Veronica turned to try and see the woman in question – at least, she could only guess it was a woman, she had her hair teased to the high heavens – only to falter when she, no he, turned around and made direct eye contact. Green met brown, and she felt her cheeks warm as she took in the sneer that had been painted onto his face before swallowing and standing as he marched over to them.

“Axl, this is Roni. She’s Vince’s twin, and I think you’d like her. She does ballet.”

“It- Hi,” she breathed out, her mind suddenly becoming a jumbled mess as she tried to regain control of her tongue in an attempt to stop herself from blurting out that she thought he was a she.

“Ballet, huh? Bit different than what we’re used to. Aren’t you meant to be having tea with the Queen of England or something?” Axl smirked at her, tilting his head in a way that was suddenly the most infuriating thing in the world to the redhead. In response, she huffed and pursed her lips before she jabbed a finger against his chest accusingly, her eyes narrowing.

“I am not some little girl who’s all fancy, I’ll have you know. You can’t just be Duff’s best friend and not get into shit.”

She ignored the spluttered sound of protest from the blonde beside her, tilting her head in response to Axl, before her eyes widened in fury at the scoff that slipped from his lips.

“Wow, what’s the worst you did? Skip class for a day?” Axl laughed at his own joke, and Veronica wrinkled her nose slightly at the scent of alcohol. Of course he was being an asshole, he was drunk. Like everyone else at the party. Like she was. Shit, had she been taking him too seriously? She closed her eyes and stifled a groan, before she opened them and offered her hand in somewhat of an attempt at providing a truce. Just as Axl took it, someone shoved past her and she fell forward, crashing straight into his chest. Before she could stammer somewhat an excuse of an apology, she was cut off by a low chuckle.

“Huh. What do you know, you smell like a fruit salad.”

[emospritelet]

Desperation - chapter 10

24: “You can move closer, I don’t bite”

I think you may have wanted this to be smutty, but I’m afraid it’s just domestic fluff XD

Prompt list here

[AO3]

x

Life at the Golds’ house continued in the same vein for another few days. Bae improved greatly, eating more and looking bright-eyed and restless. Gold was worse, eating little, drinking gallons of water and coughing most of the day. Belle was worried about him, but tried not to let Bae see it.

On Friday morning, they received their first delivery of groceries. Belle had been making a pot of tea when she heard a knock at the door, and she put the lid on the teapot and hurried to open it. A short, stocky man with a bristling black beard and a gruff expression was standing halfway down the path. A beanie hat was pulled down over the tops of his ears, and a thick scarf was wound around his neck. He gestured to the porch, and Belle looked down to see two large cardboard boxes stuffed with food and household items.

“Astrid said to say the medicine’s tucked down the side,” he said. “You tell Mr Gold and his boy to get well soon, you hear?”

“Thank you so much!” called Belle, and the man tapped his forehead with his fingers in a jaunty salute.

Picking up each of the boxes was a struggle; they were both heavy and awkward, but she managed to get her knees under the first and hoist it up into her arms. It was a relief to get to the kitchen and drop it onto the table. She hurried back for the second, and then shut the door again. It was just starting to rain, a fine drizzle coating the grass like dew, and she shivered and locked the door, trotting into the kitchen.

She found the paracetamol and put it aside. There was some cough syrup too, and throat lozenges. There was a four-pack of toilet paper, tampons and pads, some fabric softener and laundry detergent, hand sanitiser, soap and toothpaste, shampoo and shower gel. On the food side, the supplies were basic but useful. Two quarts of milk, a dozen eggs and a loaf of bread. A pack of butter. A block of cheese and a pack of bacon. Boxes of wheat flakes and crisped rice. Canned soup, beans and tomatoes and a package of pasta shapes. There were potatoes and carrots and a bag of apples.

She was pawing through the box when she heard a shuffling noise from the hallway, and glanced over her shoulder to see Bae, swaddled in a dressing gown too big for him with the hood pulled up, sleeves hiding his hands. He was hovering in the doorway, watching her.

“Hey, you’re up!” she said, with a smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.”

He was shifting from foot to foot a little awkwardly, and Belle beckoned to him.

“You can move closer, I don’t bite,” she said cheerfully. “You want some breakfast?”

“Yes please.” He padded into the room, peering into the box curiously and picking up a box of wheat flakes. “Where did you get these?”

“Groceries, courtesy of the Mayor,” said Belle briskly, taking out the milk and putting it in the fridge. “You think maybe we can find something to tempt your dad?”

“Papa doesn’t eat cereal,” said Bae. “He likes to cook breakfast. He says it’s the most important meal of the day.”

“And he’s right,” said Belle. “But not everyone cooks as much as your papa. I guess they’re trying to cater for all tastes, huh?”

“I have cereal at Neal’s place sometimes,” he said.

“Who’s Neal?” asked Belle.

“Neal Nolan. He’s my best friend.”

“Your dad said he gets wool from the Nolans’ farm,” said Belle, remembering. “Is that Neal’s family?”

“Yeah.” Bae put down the box of cereal and picked up a jar of peanut butter, turning it over with a suspicious look on his face. “His dad has sheepdogs. And cats. The cats had babies just before I got sick. Papa said maybe we could get a couple of kittens.”

“Really? How cool.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if we can,” said Bae, sounding morose. “I haven’t seen Neal in over a week.”

Belle thought for a moment.

“Well, do you want to give him a call?” she asked. “You could use my phone, if you like. If he has a cellphone, we could do a video call with him. Maybe see the kittens.”

Bae beamed at her.

“Can I?”

“Have some breakfast first, and then we’ll call,” said Belle. “I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”

“Okay.”

“What do you want?”

“Uh - can I have eggs? Scrambled?”

“On toast?”

“Yes, please.”

“Any thoughts on what I can make your dad?” she asked. “He doesn’t seem to be eating much.”

“He likes sweet things,” said Bae. “Granny’s cookies and cherry pie, and cakes. Maybe - maybe we could make him cupcakes. Do you know how to make cupcakes?”

Belle pursed her lips.

“I bet we could find a recipe,” she agreed. “Let’s try that after you call your friend, hmm?”

“Great!”

Bell made scrambled eggs on toast for both of them, and drank two cups of tea while she ate it. Afterwards, she set up her phone on the kitchen table, propped up on some books, and sent Bae to find Neal’s number.

“It’s his mom’s number,” explained Bae, as Belle dialled.

A woman answered, short black hair above kind eyes and a bright smile.

“Uh - hello?” she said, looking uncertain.

“Hey,” said Belle. “I’m Belle, the new librarian. I’m staying with the Golds during lockdown, and Bae would like to know if he can speak to Neal.”

She moved aside a little for Bae to squeeze into the shot.

“Oh! Sure!” The woman beamed, and called over her shoulder. “Neal? Baeden’s calling you!”

There was a thunder of feet, and the woman disappeared, replaced by a young boy with light brown hair and hazel eyes.

“Bae!” he exclaimed. “Were you sick? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” said Bae. “This virus sucks. My dad’s really sick.”

“Ugh, sorry.” Neal wrinkled his nose. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“I think so. Belle’s looking after him.”

“Who’s Belle? Is that Belle?” Neal looked interested as Belle waved. “Did your dad get a girlfriend?”

Belle gathered up the breakfast dishes and carried them to the sink, trying not to laugh. She listened to the children chatting as she ran water for the dishes, and trotted upstairs to check on Gold. He was curled in bed, coughing into the sheets, and she shook her head at the sight of him. The room smelled of sickness, stale sweat and the faint whiff of lemon from the drink she had made to soothe his throat.

“Let me get you some more water,” she said, and Gold pushed himself upright, falling back against the pillows with a gasp.

“I need to get up,” he whispered.

“You do not,” said Belle firmly. “You need to rest. Bae and I have everything under control.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s talking to Neal. I Skyped the Nolans.”

A faint smile.

“That’s good of you. He must be lonely.”

“He’s worried that he won’t be able to get the kittens you promised,” she said, and Gold’s smile widened.

“I’m sure they won’t love him any less for being a few weeks older.” He sat up a little more, raising his arm and sniffing before wrinkling his nose. “I have to take a shower, I’m disgusting.”

“You’ve done nothing but cough and sweat for days, of course you’re disgusting,” she said briskly, and he let out a low, tired chuckle.

“Great bedside manner, Nurse French,” he said.

“I like to think of it as firm but fair.”

“In that case, would you mind getting me some tea while I go and scrub some of the sickness away?”

“You want some breakfast?” she asked. “The groceries arrived. There’s cereal. Peanut butter. Bread, eggs…”

Gold wrinkled his nose.

“Just tea.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll try to eat something later.”

“Good. I’ll bring that tea and some more water.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a tired smile. “Thank you, Belle. Thank you for everything. I don’t know how we could ever have managed alone. I can never repay your kindness.”

“Good thing you don’t have to.”

His smile grew a little, but then his face fell, and he grabbed the blankets, tugging them up to his mouth before another coughing fit racked him. Belle shook her head.

“It’s really taking it out of you, huh?” she said, and he slumped back against the pillows, chest heaving.

“It’s exhausting,” he whispered. “Still, no rest for the wicked. I’m gonna drag myself to the shower.”

“I could change your bedsheets, if you like.”

Gold nodded wearily.

“Clean sheets? That sounds wonderful.”

x

Belle stripped the bed while he was in the shower, balling up the sheets and putting on fresh. The shower was still running, and she gathered up the dirty bedclothes, trotting downstairs to put on a load of laundry. Bae was still chatting to Neal, and Belle left him to it, pouring out a cup of tea and carrying it upstairs. The shower had shut off, and she set down the cup on Gold’s nightstand, turning just as he opened the bedroom door, a towel around his waist and his hair wet. He took a step back, one hand flailing at the door as he staggered, the other clutching frantically at his towel as it started to slip off, and Belle scuttled back out of his way. He was very thin, his ribs showing in faint lines beneath his skin, his chest smooth and his muscles small and firm. She found that her eyes were following a bead of water as it tracked its way down over his belly, and hurriedly swept her gaze back up to find him staring at her wide-eyed.

“Sorry!” said Belle hastily, feeling her cheeks flush. “Sorry. I just - there’s your tea. I’ll get out of your hair.” 

She stepped to the right just as he did, then to the left, and Gold clutched at the door for dear life, shuffling out of her way until Belle could duck through the door. She hurried downstairs, still blushing, and found that Bae had ended his call to Neal and was putting away the breakfast dishes she had washed.

“Right,” she announced, trying to push the image of a nearly-naked Gold from her mind. “Cupcakes. Let’s find a recipe.” 

[camillemontespan]

ten years from now [AU. drake walker x camille montespan] [part twenty one: a drake & camille summer]

Master List

@ibldw-main​​​  @pug-bitch​​​​  @jovialyouthmusic​​​​ @katedrakeohd​​​​ @rainbowsinthestorm​​​​ @emichelle​​​​ @dcbbw​​​​ @sirbeepsalot​​​​ @notoriouscs​​​​ @burnsoslow​​​​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​​​​ @gardeningourmet​​​​ @pedudley​​​​ @marshmallowsandfire​​​​ @princessleac1​​​​  @kingliam2019​​​ @drakeandkatherine​

Big thanks to @princessleac1​ for being my sounding board for this chapter!!

No warnings - though I hope I wasn’t too stereotypical when it came to French stuff! @pug-bitch​ I hope you don’t mind that I used your Bastille Day celebrations as inspiration. I should have asked first now I think about it - so as an apology, I dedicate this chapter to you, my beautiful French friend x 

***************************************************************

Camille woke up to the loveliest moment. At first, she thought it was a dream, a beautiful, golden dream, but as her vision adjusted, she could see this was real life. 

Drake was curled up around her and kissing her cheek softly. 

'My girl's awake, yaaay..' he murmured happily, kissing the corner of her mouth. 

Camille giggled and rolled over to face him properly. 

He looked so happy. Exhausted from their late night but happy nonetheless. His eyes were crinkled up in the corners from his smile that lit up his face like a sunbeam. He was so handsome. 

Camille reached up to place her hand on his cheek. 'Hey you,' she whispered, leaning up to kiss him softly. 

Drake groaned against her mouth. His hands ran along her sides, feeling her warm skin. He inhaled the scent of her shampoo, unable to believe that he was now allowed to do this. 

The night before had been a revelation for both of them. They had reunited properly on the jetty by the lake, their place. As Drake had kissed her desperately and made love to her with all the love he could muster, he had kept having to remind himself that this was real. She wanted him. She loved him. 

He was never going to let her go again. 

Drake and Camille were becoming a little more enthusiastic with their kissing when Gisele called from downstairs: 'Bonjour mon cheri's! Do you both want coffee?' 

Camille pulled away, turning bright red. 'Oh god, she knows you're here!' she hissed. 'Oh god.. She's going to be so embarrassing!' 

Drake chuckled, pulling her into him so he could nuzzle her neck. 'I don't care,' he whispered. 

'Coffee?' Gisele called again, her voice slightly teasing. 

'Be down in a second!' Camille shouted. 

'No rush!' Gisele shouted back. 'I know how fun a little morning wake up call can be!' 

Drake broke down laughing. Camille curled up on the foetal position, wanting the bed to swallow her up. 

*********************

Drake and Camille traipsed downstairs soon after that. Gisele was walking on her crutches, slowly but she was improving with every day. 

'Let me help with the coffee, grandma!' Camille said, rushing to take the kettle out of her hands. Gisele rolled her eyes but smiled, happy to be fussed over. 

Drake stood awkwardly by the door, now realising how weird this situation was. Gisele eyed him, smiling mischievously. 'Drake, you're allowed to sit down,' she said. 

Drake turned pink and quickly sat down at the kitchen table. He smiled as he felt Camille ruffle his hair, reassuring him. 

'So, our Bastille Day celebrations!' Gisele said, sitting down opposite Drake. 'I know you don't like champagne so I'll get you some whiskey.' 

Drake blinked. 'Oh.. You don't have to do that, Gisele! I'm just grateful for the invitation-'

'Pfft, I want you to enjoy yourself,' Gisele interrupted. 'We shall have champagne, whiskey and crepes! Ooh and macarons!' 

Camille set the coffee cups on the table and settled down beside Drake. She took his hand and held it on the table. Gisele looked at their hands and smiled. Drake blushed, turning more red when Gisele gave him a wink. 

************************

Drake left the Montespan's after breakfast. Camille had walked him to the door, her pinkie finger entwined with his as they chatted easily. 

He had kissed her goodbye. 'I'll see you soon,' he murmured. 

'Looking forward to it,' Camille whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck so that she could hold him tight. 

Drake didn't want to let her go. 

But he had and now, he was back at the ranch, high from adrenaline and joy. 

'So where did you go last night?' Savannah asked as he entered the kitchen. She was sat at the table with Bartie in her lap, trying to get him to eat mushy banana. 

Drake rolled his eyes. 'Out.' 

Savannah fixed him with a long steady look. 'You look like you had a late night and you smell of coffee and coconut shampoo. Hmm, who uses coconut shampoo like its the last bottle she will ever have? Hmm, someone with a French name..' 

Drake chuckled and sat down, wrinkling his nose at the mushy banana.

'Fine, we slept together,' he admitted. 'I think.. I think we're back together.' 

Savannah's eyes widened. 'What? WHAT?!' 

Bartie giggled at his mother's surprise. 

Drake sighed. 'Are you gonna judge me as usual?' 

'Mommmmm..' Savannah called out, her eyes remaining on Drake. 

'Shh, Sav!' Drake hissed. 'Don't gossip!' 

'Yes honey?' Bianca asked, poking her head around the door. She saw Drake and blew him a kiss. 

'Guess where Drake was last night,' Savannah said. 'And guess who he is now in a relationship with.' 

Bianca's mouth fell open. 'Camille?' she asked, her voice rising. 'Oh baby, please tell me its Camille!' 

'Well, duh,' Savannah said. 'Who else is gonna want to date my brother?' 

'Thanks Sav,', Drake said dryly. 'You're so nice to me.' 

'Oh my god!!' Bianca shrieked, rushing into the room to throw her arms around Drake. She proceeded to kiss his head all over. 'My baby boy finally has the girl of his dreams! I never thought I'd see the day!' 

'Mom..' Drake groaned, trying his best to escape her embrace. But Bianca held on tight, kissing his cheeks and squealing as she did so. 

Savannah smirked, enjoying seeing her brother be subjected to motherly affection. 

'So is she staying in Texas?' Bianca asked, finally calming down. 

Drake nodded. 'She is going to start making plans.' 

'And what will you do?' Bianca said, her voice hopeful. 'Move in together? Not that I don't love having you living with me, baby, it would just be so gorgeous to see you set up your own home!'

Drake chuckled. 'Baby steps mom.' 

********************

Gisele was very excited to celebrate Bastille Day. She had filled the fridge with bottles of champagne, making sure she had whiskey for Drake. Camille bought ingredients to make crepes and had even ordered macarons from Laduree as a surprise for her grandmother. 

Drake was nervous but excited, a strange combination for him. He wasn't sure what to expect - he knew that the Montespan's had celebrated Bastille Day for years but he hadn't ever come along. 

He arrived at their house at lunchtime, armed with a bottle of champagne for Gisele and a baguette with a box of camambert. He wasn't sure if he was being too stereotypical with the Frenchness but he hoped Gisele would appreciate it. 

Boy, she did. 

'MON CHERI, YOU ARE SO SWEET!' she squealed as he handed her his gifts. Drake let her kiss him all over. What was up with mothers always wanting to kiss him? 

The kitchen table had been set up with everything they needed. On the laptop was a live feed of the Eiffel Tower and the crowds of Parisians who were waiting for the fireworks to explode. 

'A votre sante!' they all chorused, clinking their glasses together. Drake had decided to drink champagne. He wanted to get into the spirit of things. 

Camille snuggled up into Drake's arms as they watched the laptop screen. Gisele couldn't stop smiling, she was so patriotic when it came to her home country. 

She had been born in the town of Versailles and she had lived in France until she was eight years old. Her parents decided to move to America, eager to chase the American dream, and so, reluctantly, Gisele adjusted to American life. But really, her life didn't properly start until she had met Franklin. 

'Look, it's starting!' Camille cried, clapping her hands. 

Indeed, the fireworks were now being set off above the Eiffel Tower. The crowds screamed and cheered as the tower shone down on the Parisians. 

'This is incredible,' Drake whispered, unable to take his eyes off the screen. 'I've never been out of the US.. God, this is gorgeous.' 

Camille squeezed his hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 'Maybe we can go together sometime?' she suggested. 

Drake smiled. 'I'd love that.' 

Gisele watched the screen with her hands clasped to her heart. Tears were filling her eyes as she watched the fireworks explode in the night sky, golden sparks raining down on the Eiffel Tower, illuminating the City of Lights. 

Camille leaned over to wrap her arms around her grandmother. 'We'll go together soon, I promise,' she whispered in her ear. 'Me and you, a girls trip. We can go to Angelina and drink African hot chocolate and visit Chanel. How does that sound?' 

Gisele wiped her eyes and gave her granddaughter a wobbly smile. 'Magnifique,' she said softly, resting her head on Camille's shoulder. 

*************************

Drake and Camille spent every day together after that. Their days repeated one after the other, the two of them adopting a routine without meaning to.

After Camille set Gisele up with breakfast, Drake would pick her up in his truck and take them both to the diner in town. They would order coffee and pancakes, sometimes talking without taking a breath, sometimes happy to just read the paper while holding hands over the table. 

They would then head back to the ranch and take Lone Star out for a ride. Afterwards, they set up camp by Clover's grave under the apple tree and drank beer, basking in the sunshine and each other. 

Twilight would arrive and Drake and Camille would wander to the jetty. They would snuggle up together and watch as the lake began to reflect the stars and the emerging moon.

When it was late, Camille would either stay over at the ranch or he would take her home, promising he would see her in the morning. 

It was the start of their endless summer. Their Texas summer. Their Drake and Camille summer. 

************************

Camille paced the living room, looking up at the cornices, inspecting every surface. The estate agent waited by the door, watching her with bated breath, hoping that Camille would take this apartment. 

One month after becoming official, Drake and Camille had decided to view properties together. They had taken the leap and committed themselves to a plan. They were going to live together. 

Today, Drake was running late, so Camille had been shown the apartment first. 

It was small. Yes, it was in the centre of town so the location was great but Camille couldn't help but feel that the space was too small for two people. 

The kitchen was narrow. There was no space for both of them to cook which made Camille's heart sink as she really wanted a kitchen where she and Drake could enjoy cooking dinner together. 

'At this price, it's a steal,' the estate agent said, trying to be persuasive. She could see her commission leaving her clutches from the disappointed look on Camille's face. 'Great location and you get some sunlight.' 

Camille bit her lip, casting a glance around the room. 'Hmm..' 

She couldn't see a future here. This place wasn't making her stomach flip. 

But then her stomach flipped. 

Camille stopped walking and stood very still. The estate agent frowned. 'Miss Montespan, are you alright?' 

Camille's stomach flipped violently. Realisation dawned on her. She was going to be sick in an apartment she didn't want. 

Clapping her hands over her mouth, Camille raced to the tiny bathroom and flung herself down to her knees over the toilet. She vomited. 

When she was done, Camille stood up awkwardly. She flushed the toilet and closed the door, wishing the ground could swallow her up. 

The estate agent gave her a sympathetic smile. 'Are you okay?' 

Camille exhaled, trying to push down the thoughts that were flooding her mind. 'I'm fine,' she said. 'But I don't think we'll take this apartment. Drake can look if he wants to but it will probably be a no.' 

She rushed out of the room and out of the front door, needing air. 

'Woah, Camille!' Drake cried as she bumped into him. He took her by the arms and looked down at her face, concern flooding his features. 

'Baby, are you okay? You look very pale.' 

Camille couldn't stop her heart from hammering. She hadn't been sick for years. How embarrassing. As Drake kept asking her what was wrong, Camille couldn't answer. 

Her period hadn't arrived yet. But maybe she was just late, it happened. She had been sick because.. Well, apartment hunting was stressful. 

But the doubt had began to grow and she started to feel like it was more than just apartment stress. 

Drake was looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed, his hands holding her arms tight. 'Camille, talk to me,' he murmured. 'You look so unwell, what happened? Are you feeling okay? Do you need something to eat?' 

Camille thought back over the past couple of months. 

Her depo-provera shot. 

She had last had it injected three months ago when she had been with Liam. But with all the recent upheaval in her life, she hadn't been back to the doctor to have the shot topped up. 

It ran out after three months. 

Last month was the time when she should have had it done again. But she hadn't. She had been too busy sleeping with Drake and drinking whiskey. 

Her mouth went dry. 

'Camille?' 

She looked up at Drake, who was now looking down at her, terrified. 

'I've been sick,' she finally told him, her voice shaking. 'In the apartment, I've just been sick.' 

Drake pulled her in close, pressing a kiss on her head. 'Oh baby,' he whispered. 'Let's get you home then. You need toast -' 

'I need a pregnancy test,' Camille interrupted. 

Drake let go of her, stepping back as if he had been shot. His eyes were widening as he studied her face, trying to think of a way to react without making things worse. 

'Say something, Drake,' she whispered, her voice trembling. 'Please.' 

Drake exhaled. Closing his eyes, he thought about what his dad would say to him right now.

Be a man. Stand up for her. Hold her. Make her feel alright. Tell her it's gonna be alright, son. 

Drake opened his eyes and gently wrapped his arms around her. 'It's gonna be alright,' he murmured. 'Let's get you a test and we'll do it together, okay? You've got me.'

Camille swallowed and gripped onto his shirt tightly, not wanting to let him go. 

'Be brave,' he whispered in her ear. 'It's gonna be alright. Might be nothing. Let's not jump to conclusions. Baby steps.' 

Camille looked up at him now and smiled weakly. 

'Baby steps,' she repeated. 

[honeycombme]

Easy As Breathing pt. 3

Ladies and gentleman, does the fluff ever end? I fucking hope not.

You looked to Clyde as Lauren stumbled back towards you, drunk and adventurous. At the same time, Jimmy sauntered back with his towel slung over his left shoulder. As everyone reappeared, Clyde cleared his throat and took a quick swig of his beer. 

You threw him a knowing glance, each of you returning the greetings from everyone around you. Lauren, positively tipsy, insisted that you break open the s'mores kit and dig in. You had no objections, s'mores were the next best option to kissing Clyde. Actually. No they weren't. 

You all snacked and continued to have some laughs until Lauren and Jimmy's friend decided to go on...another...walk? You threw Lauren your small flashlight and she winked to you as she disappeared through the campsite. Was this about to become a horror film? 

Jimmy cleared his throat and announced that he was heading to bed. You weren't certain if you were supposed to up and go to bed as well because Clyde remained still. He kept looking between you and the fire, messing around with some sticks near his feet. Once Jimmy walked a ways towards his tent, Clyde spoke up. 

"Don't be feelin like ya need to stay up on account'a me, I'll wait up til Lauren gets back for ya," he smiled sheepishly. 

"Not really feeling too tired yet," you sighed, "plus I need to get this fire smell off me before I stink up the tent...think the water is warm?

You looked to the lakes edge, fireflies passing through small shrubs along the water. 

"If you want, you can borrow my shampoo and go rinse off," he offered politely. 

"Honestly, not a bad idea. I'm just gonna go put on a swimsuit and be right back," you stood. You stumbled a bit towards your tent, snaking inside and closing it. You rummaged through the bag Lauren packed looking for the swimsuit she grabbed you. You stumbled upon a store bag and pulled out the contents. 

Dear God. 

The straps. The cut outs. The color. The mesh. 

You pulled it on begrudgingly, grabbing your towel and wrapping it around yourself. You were painfully aware of how far this thing was between your butt cheeks. 

Here's to praying I don't look like a busted can of biscuits. 

You shuffled out, closing the tent behind you. Clyde was kneeling by the water, running his hands through the glassy lake. 

"S'not too chilly, but I wouldn't wanna be in the for long," he declared. He turned to you, standing to his full height. "Skinny dippin'?"

You laughed, seriously praying he'd turn and leave. "not necessarily...though I think Lauren might as well have left me that option.."

"Can't be that bad, darlin'. If you want, I can put it on after you," he chuckled. He shook the bottle in his hand. "Oh, right, brought this for you. Don't go givin away my secrets now!" 

His shampoo was in his hand, waiting for you to take it. You dropped your towel and took the shampoo from him, brushing some hair behind your ear. The moon cast diamonds onto the lake surface as a breeze rolled through. The chill of it racked your nerves, perking your nipples. You were aware of their presence through the thin fabric. His eyes glanced you over, smiling shyly. 

"My my miss y/n, I think Lauren knew just what she was doin."

A shiver ran through your spine. You clutched the shampoo to yourself, feeling slightly bolder. "I don't think it's quite right for me to be like this all by myself though, what do you think?"

He grinned, hand gripping the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head. 

Wow. 

He was full. Wide. Muscular. Soft. Hard. Speckled in gorgeous freckles. He looked like a god in this lighting. You hoped you looked even an ounce as good, begging that your ass would provide an equally tasty sight. You smiled from ear to ear, looking from Clyde to the ground. Your shyness had crept back into your bloodstream, feeling blush blooming in your cheeks and nerves finding your hands. 

"Well that certainly is better," you said quietly. 

You turned to the water, testing the temperature with your toes. 

"I might as well wash up too, no point in delayin the shock," he muttered as you heard something thud to the ground and felt him sprint past you into the water. You looked back and it was his prosthetic. 

You felt a jolt of wildness and followed his lead, feet betraying your senses. The water was both shockingly cold and warm at the same time. Your breath came in spurts as your blood accepted this new environment. You dipped your head below the water, the muffled sound of movement underneath playing at your eardrums. When you surfaced, Clyde was floating on his back. You held tight to the bottle he gave you, opening the lid to test the scent. It was heaven. Clyde looked to you when he heard the bottle open. Soon, though, he dove underwater and out of sight. 

Then, you felt the wake of his movements immediately followed by his hand grabbing your ankles. You kicked back in laughter, attempting to escape him. He surfaced, gasping for air and flipping his hair out of his face. You both laughed as he floated towards you, flipping back onto his back as he got close. 

"I'll hold the bottle if you're feelin generous...I'm a sucker for people playin with ma hair," he stated, throwing big puppy dog eyes your way. You melted. 

"Only condition is that I'm next," you laughed. 

He righted himself, kneeling so you could reach his head. He relaxed against the soft waves of the water as you put a dollop of shampoo into your palm. Dutifully, he took the bottle for you. You began to lather, working at his scalp and running your hand through his silken hair. His eyes relaxed, heavy lids closing at your touch. You ran your nails carefully through, creating suds and a sweet, spicy aroma in the water. You breathed deep, and he sighed. 

"I could be gettin used ta this," he grinned with his eyes still closed. 

You took some extra bubbles and placed a small amount on the tip of his nose. "There. This is my masterpiece." His hand came to meet the hairstyle youd given him, hair standing straight up and twisted at the top. You laughed hard and he chuckled, dipping his head under to rinse off. The water still smelled incredible. 

When he came back up, he rubbed his eyes and walked towards you. "ok deals a deal."

You took the bottle and he took you by surprise; scooping you under your knees with his good arm and gently held onto your back with his injured one, your hair floating in the water. His arm surfaced, hand out for some shampoo. Your hands were a little shaky, but you obliged. He began working small circles into your scalp, one massive hand lathering up your entire crown as you relaxed into his embrace. His hair dripped onto your exposed skin, breasts perking at the temperature of it. You attempted to control your chest as your breath deepened. His hands felt so good, so genuine. 

You imagined what they would feel like, elsewhere. After what seemed like half an hour of silence and scalp massages he released your back leaving the coldest water to assault the skin there. You opened your eyes as you dipped your neck back a little further, belly on fire. You breathed. You were still holding onto the bottle of shampoo, moonlight playing at the beads of water on both of your skin. 

He looked at you, down to the water, then to your breasts. You waded backwards through the water, never breaking eye contact with him. Once you were close enough to the edge, you ditched the bottle of shampoo and dove under. The water assaulted your eardrums as you maneuvered your way towards him. You Rose to the surface, mere inches away from his body. You wiped the water from your face, looking to his. His chest was heaving, hand curled into a ball. 

Your small hand closed the distance between the two of you, placing it sweetly on his chest. He relinquished his hellish grip as his hand came to meet the small of your back. You bobbed in the water, silence and tension like lighting between the two of you. And just like thunder, his mouth crashed into yours, lips rolling over and over causing your body to tremor and quake. His body was on fire beneath the cool water and almost reflexively, your legs came to wrap around his hips. There you felt an unfamiliar sensation at his waistband, his hand holding your back steady now gripping your ass. 

You leaned into his kisses, pressure from both ends causing your necks to crane and twist, but it was fluid. You forgot to breathe; needy and forceful you drank air in through your nose and exhaled as slowly as you could. You felt so wet, too wet, even for being underwater. 

His arm came to support your entire back, hand caressing your neck as he bobbed in the water with you, fully attached at the lips. They were plush, warm, and sweet; the taste of apple pie moonshine ghosting your taste buds. He pulled away softly, nuzzling his nose into yours and taking a shaky breath, when you opened your eyes, his smile was brighter than the moon itself. 

[accio-kitty-malfoy]

A Breath of Fresh Air

Chapter 8: Babies

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633025/chapters/60430069

Harry’s head hurt. He felt nauseous, his muscles were screaming and he was laid in a puddle of his own sweat. Panic made him able to force his eyes open and he looked around for Malfoy, wondering what he’d done to him, but the motion made it feel like the world was spinning. His heart was racing, as though he’d just been sprinting.

“Calm down Harry, you’re alright.” The soft French accent calmed him somewhat, and Fleur laid a cool cloth on his forehead.

“What’s wrong with me?” He managed to rasp out. His throat was dry and scratchy.

“You have the Flu, a bad flu, but you’re okay.” She reassured him.

“But Malfoy…”

“Malfoy carried you into The Burrow in his arms. You should be thanking Mr Malfoy, not blaming him. You’re sick Harry. You need fluids and lots of rest before you go exciting yourself.” Harry nodded his head and accepted the drink that she offered him. It was vile, but he drank it anyway. His muscles and head instantly felt a little better. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips.

“What time is it?” Harry asked. Fleur informed him that it was a little past five and told him he should eat something. He nodded again, promising her that he’d try. She smiled at him and walked out of the room, glancing back at him before she left.

 Ginny came up not long after with some chicken soup made by Molly and some bread. He managed some of it, but he still had a very small appetite. He placed the bowl on the side and turned to Ginny.

“So, you and Luna, eh?” He managed a small smirk.

“Yeah. I told her. I nearly passed out I was so nervous. She just laughed in that way that she does and hugged me.”

“The great Ginny Weasley, nervous. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“You know, you’re not too ill for me to give you a slap.” Harry laughed lightly.

“But seriously Gin, I’m super happy for you.” They smiled a genuine smile.

“Well let’s talk about you, Mr Potter. Swooning so Mr Malfoy had to sweep you off your feet and rescue you. I never thought The Chosen One would play the damsel in distress to get a guy.” Harry felt himself blushing furiously, his heart racing.

“I did not. I’m ill Gin.

“Or did you just faint at how gorgeous he looks? I mean it should be illegal for a man to wear a shirt so that it shows so much perfect, pale flesh.” Harry rolled his eyes, swatting at Ginny. “You can’t deny it Harry, he’s hot.”

“Well yeah, I have eyes. But it’s Malfoy.” Ginny laughed, shaking her head at Harry.

“Dude, you’ve been obsessed with him since I’ve known you.”

“That’s not true. I only took an interest because the git was always up to something.” Ginny laughed again.

“Whatever you say, Harry.” Harry was going to argue more, but he yawned instead. “I’m going to take this food downstairs, try and get some more sleep.” Ginny told him, grabbing the bowl as they stood up. He watched her leave and tried not to think about what they’d been saying. Instead he wondered about Ron and Hermione and what they’d been doing since the wedding. It had already been three days. He supposed they were still settling into their new house.

  Sleep soon claimed Harry again and his dreams were strange. He dreamt he was flying on a broom and he was looking for something. He assumed it was the snitch. He kept looking behind him, as though he was expecting someone to come chasing after him, but no one was there. He set his eyes on the target again. Where was that damned gold ball? His attention was caught again by a flash of silvery white just behind him. He whirled around and Malfoy was flying inches away from him. He smelled like coffee and leather and fresh, crisp linen. Harry wanted to stuff his face into Malfoy and breathe him in. Malfoy was ear to ear with him now and he could practically feel the electricity jumping between them. And then Malfoy was in front of him, long hair flowing behind him in the wind. A waft of apple caught Harry’s nose and somehow it made perfect sense that Draco bloody Malfoy used apple scented shampoo. Harry saw the snitch. He tried to fly faster but he couldn’t get past Malfoy, who was annoyingly flying at a leisurely pace in front of him. He willed his broom faster, closer, and suddenly it obliged. Harry smashed into Malfoy and could feel and smell and almost taste the other man. They both fell down towards the ground, Harry trying desperately to grab hold of the other man before they hit the ground.

 His body jerked violently as his eyes flew open. Hermione was sat beside him looking worried.

“Harry, you look dreadful.” She remarked, passing him a glass of water. “Here, drink some of this.”

“Thanks.” He greedily gulped at the water; his throat felt like a desert. His head and muscles felt somewhat better though. “How are you Mrs Granger?”

“I’m okay. Me and Ron have been decorating at the bungalow. Molly invited us round for dinner today and that’s when we found out you were ill. I’m kind of annoyed that no one thought to tell us before.”

“People only really found out today Hermione. I went for a meeting and collapsed. But it’s fine, Fleur says it’s just the flu. I should be over it in a few days. Hopefully before she has the baby.” Harry told Hermione about what had happened that day and all about his plans for opening the salon. She told him that she thought it was a fantastic idea and offered her help for when he needed to decorate or help in coordinating things. She was back at work soon, but her and Ron were always happy to help. He thanked her and they chatted more about what had been happening since the wedding.

“Hermione, why was Malfoy at your wedding?” He asked.  

“Well, he was there as Pansy’s plus one. They live together so it made sense that she would bring him. Harry felt his heart sinking and he couldn’t quite figure out why. Of course Pany and Malfoy were together. They had been throughout most of school and it made sense that they would continue their relationship now. Hermione gave him and odd sort of look and laid her hand on his forehead. She made sure he took his medication before she left and by the time she went, it was half past nine and his eyes were weary again. He let himself slip into a more comfortable sleep. This time he couldn’t remember any of the dreams he had.

 He awoke the next day to the sounds of people rushing about the house. Ginny ran into his bedroom and flung the door open.

“Hey Harry, how you feeling today? Fleur’s having her baby!” The words all came out in a big rush and he sat up quickly. It didn’t make his head spin as much as it had the previous day, and he supposed that was a good sign. “Dad’s talking her and Bill to the hospital now.”

Harry decided to try and get out of bed and, while he was sill a bit wobbly on his feet, he managed it. He gave Fleur a hug before she left and she smiled sweetly at him. Bill looked nervous as he carried the hospital bag out to the car. Harry had a small amount of breakfast and a cup of tea, which tasted amazing. He felt better than he had done in days. He didn’t know what kind of potion Fleur had given him, but it was definitely working. Ginny went outside to train, and Molly paced the house, tidying things that didn’t really need tidying. Harry sat looking absentmindedly out of the window. He couldn’t seem to shake the image of Malfoy out of his head. He couldn’t deny that the other many was gorgeous. He was slender and tall and his eyes seemed to see inside Harry. The way that his long fingers had wrapped delicately around the stem of his wine glass at the wedding made Harry’s heart race. But they didn’t get along. How could Harry work with him on such an important project when he both disliked and wanted to maul the other man. He would have to owl Blaise and ask him if he had anyone else to work with. He decided that he would do it the next day.

 Arthur came back from taking Fleur and Bill to the hospital and let Molly know that they would let them know when anything was happening, and then they could floo to see them. Ron and Hermione arrived not long after Arthur and Ron made them a chicken Salad for lunch, and a spiced tofu salad for Ginny. Harry took his potion and then ate most of his lunch. He was glad that his appetite was coming back, it was making him feel much better to have some energy. Ron seemed to be glowing with happiness and he pulled Harry to one side after they’d eaten.

“Look mate, please don’t let anyone else know because I don’t want to take anything away from Bill and Fleur’s big day but me and Hermione have some news and we wanted you to be the first to know.” Ron was smiling so wide Harry was worried that his face would break. “We’re having a baby! Well, Hermione is having a baby. We found out the day before the wedding, she’s about seven weeks gone.”

“That’s amazing news!” Harry hugged his friend tight. He was so full of joy for them and he knew they would both be amazing parents. He knew that Bill and Fleur’s baby and Ron and Hermione’s baby would both have childhoods filled with love and family and it made Harry teary with happiness. They re-joined the rest of the group and say waiting no-so-patiently for the alert from Bill. They drank copious amounts of tea and ate scones that George and Angelina had brought. When the call finally came it was nearly six in the evening and they all floo’d over to the hospital.

 Fleur looked exhausted and Harry had never seen Bill look so proud in his entire life. The baby slept peacefully in his arms. She already had a mass white-blonde hair and her eyes were green in some lights and blue in others. They’d named her Victorie. It was no secret that Bill and Fleur had struggled to have a child; they’d been trying since their wedding, so the name was fitting. She was their little victory. The way that they both looked at her told Harry that she would get anything and everything she ever wanted. Fleur asked Harry if he’d been taking his medication and it struck him that, even though she’d just gone through one of the most physically difficult things she would ever go through, she was still concerned about him. He knew that certain members of the Weasley family had considered her selfish and stuck up when they’d first met her, but she wasn’t. Harry saw her as one of the most selfless and caring people he knew. They stayed for a while longer, each holding the baby. He saw the look in both Ron and Hermione’s eyes that was equal parts excited and terrified that they would have one in a matter of months. He felt completely surrounded by love and once again there was a feeling of apprehension about moving away from this comfort to live on his own.

 Back at The Burrow a great Eagle Owl flew in through the open window and dropped a letter on the kitchen table. It was addressed to ‘Mr Potter’ in elegant handwriting.

[disorganisedpilot]

captains log 31-01/03-04/21

woke up mid afternoon to find that someone had vagued about me on tumblr about something i didnt even say . a whole load of drama and i stand by what i said and i was in the right. but im still nervous and my paranoia is Activated. my paranoia has been on high alert over seemingly unrelated things all day and i’m p sure thats why

went through a load of my social medias and have started to delete things. i want to feel safe

got up at around 15:00. navy velvet trousers, blue and white striped shirt, black/grey/white check tie, lilac cardigan, gold moon and star earrings

finished off my last porridge with golden syrup for breakfast. the golden syrup is communal bc none of us know who bought it and we all insist it wasn’t us hfdskjfhds. drank a glass of water, read some of my book

drank a pot of coffee, wrote a to-do list and started work

had a shower. using cheapo apple shampoo now, it takes quite a bit to lather up but i love apple smells and it was only 85p lol. finished off the orange and bergamot soap i got from a hotel in oxford i think

worked for a bit more

had ‘lunch’ - rice that i stole from my flatmate (she won’t mind, but i’ll buy her a new bag once i’m not like. struggling to pay rent hdskjfs), soy sauce, peas and sweetcorn. the peas and sweetcorn belonged to my old flatmate who left but they’ve been left in the freezer and it’s helping me not starve. drank a glass of water and read some more of my book

worked. it’s coming along too slowly. i have extensions but it’s killing me i hate this. i just can’t focus

did the ironing

made a shopping list without freaking out even once, managed to do it completely calmly and didn’t end up surrounded by bits of paper wringing my hands lol. bought bread, cheese, an orange, more porridge, a box of oatcakes, and some teaspoons from the reduced section. im sick of having to steal my flatmate’s teaspoon and my old flatmates stole all mine when i was living in the chaplaincy. overall it came to under £5 so im counting that a win

made a salad for tea - orange and spinach with olive oil and black pepper. the olive oil was communal, and im closer to finishing off the massive bag of spinach i have. had some cheese and oatcakes afterwards. drank another glass of water . feel like the epitome of health lmao 

didnt get enough done today and im so paranoid and anxious it feels like i’ll only be okay if i dont think at all. i think that people are following me and watching me and building profiles on me and that [x thing that i cant even talk about because if i talk about it it might happen] is going to happen and i keep remembering things that have happened that make it a possibility and it makes me want to just kill myself so i dont have to deal with the fear and waiting anymore. 

but oh well. i survived another day, i ate well, i breathed, i existed in silence, i listened to music, i read a book, i did some work. if i think about anything beyond the present i’ll go insane