#some patch notes -tosses confetti-

[one-winged-dreams]

Carrd updated with a new section (familial), some crushes removed (and again f/os i probably SHOULD remove stay because I'm too sentimental but w/e) and some f/os added to romantic and queerplatonic.

[awanderingtortoise]

a/n: first of all, i would like to thank my genius brain for answering the ask this stemmed from privately, therefore losing all access to it and anything i typed in reply. i would also like to thank google docs for housing the backup copy of this fic, ensuring my panic lasted only half the time it could have. finally (and the only serious thing here) ty to @nabrizoya for giving this idea during my 'i cant write banter only dad jokes help' panic, i loved it and wrote far more on it than i expected.

laughter in the rain

ao3

word count: 2.1k of pure fluff and crack

blurb: in which Nikolai is much too found of puns while Zoya is the polar opposite, and a young, incredibly chaotic Squaller child wreaks absolute havoc on literally everything.

(from tumblr ask: how about nikolai interacting with zoya's students and them finding nikolai's dad jokes funnier than zoya does (though she does secretly enjoy them)

----

Zoya knew she was in for it when she agreed to teach Damyen to summon lightning. Possible consequences listed themselves in her head without regard for her anxiety: Getting half her hair burned off. An emergency fire drill, minus the drill, at the Little Palace. Possibly a few roasted pigeons falling from the sky. The ten-year old Squaller was undeniably one of her most gifted students, possessing a striking talent for both the Small Science and utter chaos. Unsurprising, really, considering the child both worshiped Nikolai and had a disposition remarkably close to the latter’s. Zoya’s rant on the young Grisha amused him to no end.

“A miniature me,” Nikolai mused, glancing thoughtfully at Zoya as he sat on the edge of their bed. “And shaping up to be quite the handful.”

“You have no idea,” she grumbled, brushing out a stubborn tangle in her hair, eyes still bleary from her slumber or lack thereof. She’d slept terribly and dreamt her kefta had been on fire. Though she was never much for fortune-tellers or prophetic hogwash, she had an inkling this particular dream would soon be reality. “You could be brothers with how much you have in common. Insubordinate. Endless chatter. Utterly chaotic.”

“Handsome?” Nikolai suggested, inspecting his boots before putting them on. “Charismatic and startlingly intelligent? Really, my dear; you don’t have to be quite so negative.”

“I’m likely about to be set on fire. I have every right to be negative.”

“Now, now,” He said soothingly. “I’m sure it will be a very- enlightening experience.”

Zoya froze mid-brush stroke, turning to give him a withering glare. “Nikolai,” she hissed.

He grinned. “Yes?”

“We have talked about this.”

“Have we?”

“No more puns,” Zoya ordered. For every joke Nikolai in his love for infuriating humor could crack, these were the worst. The only people in the palace that found them amusing were Tolya and Nikolai himself. Which meant, of course, that Tolya was the only one Nikolai didn’t subject to this banal torture.

“Why?” Nikolai whined. “I find them rather electrifying, don’t you?”

She slammed her brush onto the table and stalked towards him, seizing his wrist. “I will blow you out the window. I will tie you to a tree and let Damyen use you for target practice.”

“From the sound of him, he wouldn’t dare. He loves me.”

“He’s also remarkably similar to you and has every ounce of your taste for drama. He might, and if he doesn’t you have my word that I will do it myself.” Zoya let her eyes flash silver, static crackling in the air.

“Alright,” Nikolai sighed, unperturbed by the display. “Fine. I concede. It’s but a trifle. A storm in a teacup, if you w- ow !”

She had sent a small shock through his arm, and now scoffed at the reaction to her handiwork. “Consider this a warning,” she sniffed, before turning to leave the room. “I have a Squaller to teach.”

“Storming off, are we- ow- ”

Only once the door was safely slammed behind her did she let her frown shift, lips quirking upwards. “Damnable idiot,” she muttered, smile clear in her voice.

“You love me for it,” Nikolai called from inside the room.

Zoya scowled. She’d need to have the walls thickened.

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

To Zoya’s right, a flock of very terrified and slightly singed geese squawked and took to the skies. Their nest lay in a steaming pile of ash. She raised a single eyebrow at her pupil. “Damyen, this is-”

“Awesome!” He cackled, gathering the ash in his hands and tossing it in the air like confetti. The flakes drifted down, settling in Zoya’s hair and eyelashes.

“I was going to say dismal. I do not recall asking you to set birds on fire. Your aim is terrible.”

“But I shot lighting!” He stared at his fingertips with such utter reverence for himself that Zoya didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“If you want to shoot lighting without setting your friends alight, I’d suggest you learn to hit your mark,” She said as sternly as possible. He’d picked up on the skill remarkably quickly, in all honesty, and the currents he summoned were more than good for a start. She was impressed, but her approval would only be gained with sufficient effort. And after more than a few sharp comments. “You aim worse than a blind mole rat. Again.”

Damyen sighed but brought his hands together once more, brow knitting in concentration as lightning began to form in his palm. Strands of his bronze hair fell onto his face and he squinted through them at the target. Adjusted his hands. Squinted again.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Zoya muttered. “Perhaps you’re waiting for the Saints to come riding down on a shiny chariot?”

He snorted, apparently genuinely amused, then let the bolt fly. At the same moment, a golden-haired figure strolled into the lightning’s path.

Zoya shrieked, hurtling a gust of wind towards Nikolai and blowing him to the ground. The streak of electricity slammed perfectly into the target’s center, setting the whole thing aflame.  Damyen whooped, throwing up his hands and sending wind blowing every which way; scattering leaves into the air as Nikolai groaned and swore from his spot in the grass.

“Hello,” He said weakly. “Atmosphere’s rather charged around here, don’t you think?”

She huffed and pulled him to his feet, glaring daggers.

“No shocks,” Nikolai noted.

“I may change my mind. Care to explain yourself, Lantsov? In the habit of trying to kill yourself?”

“I hardly need to try. I’m a magnet for life threatening situations. Though I’ll admit that today it was a personal decision.” He beamed, spreading his hands. “I simply wanted to help you make good on your threat.”

Zoya rolled her eyes. “Why are you here? Has something come up with the Fjerdans? Did the Kerch renegotiate the trade-”

“Zoya, Zoya, Zoya,” Nikolai sighed, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. “You worry too much.”

“I worry exactly the right amount for this fickle country. Answer the question, or I truly will have him target you.”

“Is it so hard to believe I came here only to see you?”

“Yes.”

“You wound me. But if you must know, I thought I could be of some assistance.”

“As target practice?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’ve had quite enough of that. As a mentor. As a bribe, perhaps; for your little firecracker over there.” He glanced at Damyen, still stripping trees of their hard-earned leaves and seemingly unaware that he’d nearly killed his beloved idol.  “You seemed like you could use some help.”

She raised her chin disdainfully. “I am perfectly capable of wrangling the little-”

A loud crack sounded and the sky darkened rapidly, clouds swarming over their heads as rain began to pour furiously in a matter of seconds. A few meters away, a bright flash enveloped a tree, sending the trunk bursting into flames.

“Damyen!” Zoya screeched.

The boy stared at her, wide-eyed and grinning in a mix of elation and fear. “I made a storm, Your Highness!”

“Congratulations. Now do you mind stopping before you kill us all?”

“But I-” His eyes found Nikolai and realization set in as he beamed and the rain poured even harder. “Your Highness- es !”

Another boom, and a second, larger tree was wreathed in electricity and fire. It groaned, wobbling dangerously before crashing to the ground.

Nikolai’s brow furrowed, squinting against the pouring rain. “That,” he started. “Was a centuries-old sacred cypress planted by the first Lantsov kings. Now firewood. Impressive.”

Damyen’s chest puffed with pride.

“You can fawn over each other later,” Zoya snapped. “Damyen, enough with the storm. Turn it off before you start a forest fire.”

He grinned sheepishly. “How?”

She muttered obscenities, raising her hands and dispelling the clouds with a flick of her wrists. The sky cleared, small patches of pouring rain left to quell the still-burning trees as Nikolai whistled appreciatively, clapping; and Damyen gave a small bow. Saints, these two would be the death of her.

“So,” Nikolai said, soft enough that Damyen couldn’t hear. “Changed your mind?”

She sighed. “Fine. Make your attempt. You’ve always loved trying your hand at the impossible.”

“Improbable,” he corrected, then strolled over to Damyen, running a hand through the golden strands plastered to his forehead. Soaking wet and almost cooked alive, and he still looked every bit the regal prince; she thought, a grudging, now-familiar fondness rushing through her like a horrible, tooth-rotting sweet. She scowled.

“Lovely morning,” The prince greeted. Damyen bent over in a hasty bow, but Nikolai waved his hand. “No need. Are you the wonderfully gifted Squaller her Highness speaks of so highly?”

Zoya snorted, but Damyen’s eyes practically doubled in size. “She does?”

“Oh, yes,” Nikolai said seriously. “You’re quite talented, I hear.” He lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. “Just between the two of us,” muttered Nikolai, very much loud enough for Zoya to be able to hear. “I think you remind her of herself, when she was your age.”

She opened her mouth; ‘What utter bullshit,’ already on the tip of her tongue but Nikolai raised a gloved finger, eyes twinkling. With much effort, she clamped her mouth shut.

Damyen seemed he might faint on the spot. Nikolai went on. “Really, there’s quite a lot you two have in common. Powerful. Willful. In possession of a rather strong attachment to me.”

The young Grisha was eating up his words. Zoya wanted to strangle the both of them.

Nikolai took a seat on a faintly smoking tree stump. “You seem to have quite a lot going on for you, learning to summon lighting and all. A rather current affair, don’t you think?”

The silence seemed to stretch on infinitely. Then Damyen gave a toothy grin and guffawed far, far louder than that sorry excuse for a joke deserved.

“Oh for Saints’ sake, Nikolai,” she groaned, shoving her face into her hands.

“Zoya, dear; no need to thunder about like that,” Nikolai said soothingly. Damyen bit his cheek in an attempt to control himself, but whatever smidgen of respect he had left for her kept him silent for barely a second before he burst into a fit of giggles.

Zoya threw her arms up in frustration and from the clouds a deep, deafening roar answered her-- how’s that for thundering, you nincompoop-- as the sky flashed once more, bright streaks lacing every cloud in an intricate web. Damyen’s gleeful expression faltered at the sight but Nikolai only grinned wider, patting Damyen on the shoulder before standing and holding a hand out to catch the rain.

“Don’t let her dampen your spirits,” he called sagely over the rumble, and it took a good amount of self control not to smite him on the spot.  Nikolai flashed a thumbs-up at the boy before jogging over to the spot where Zoya stood, arms crossed and glaring. He clasped her hand in his, opening his mouth to speak.

“Not one word,” she warned. “Not a single pun or I will have Tolya read you every Ravkan epic in existence while dangling you off the palace roof.”

“No puns,” he promised. “For now. I only ask that perhaps you let the sun shine through-”

“I will not sugarcoat my instructions for whatever reason.”

“The storm, my dear,” he said gently. “Not your teaching methods. We’re nearly soaked through.”

She glanced towards his dripping sleeves and the damp fabric of her own kefta. “Fine,” Zoya muttered grudgingly, raising her free hand to call away the storm and let the clouds fade to fog. “But enough of this foolery. I can’t have Damyen running around being able to summon lightning and having no idea how to wrangle it. He has to learn.”

“And he will. Let me work my magic and I’ll have him perfectly eager to learn to control his.”

“Without the puns.”

“With slightly less puns?” He asked, brow knit together as if the fate of his jokes were a matter of life and death.

Zoya frowned, but Nikolai’s pleading look wore away at her and she sighed. “Slightly less puns.”

His eyes lit up and he beamed, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “You won’t regret this,” he promised.

“Oh, I will,” she remarked drily. “But perhaps not enough to shock you again if you can manage the walking fire hazard.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.” He bowed theatrically before turning and running back to Damyen with a ridiculous grin on his face, sunlight gilding his hair and shining in his gaze; his form so full of light that she couldn’t help but smile.

“Nikolai,” she called after him.

He turned, cocking his head. “Nazyalensky? Is everything alright?”

Zoya closed her eyes, sighing deeply. She opened her palm, summoning the smallest thundercloud, letting raindrops pool in her outstretched hand. “Right as rain, Lantsov.”

He laughed, and the sound, golden and unrestrained and bright, was worth every joke she’d ever have to endure.

[kerwritesthings]

Road Warrior

Summary: time apart makes time together, in any way that you can, that much more special

Word Count: a little over 12.2K (oops?)

Warning: this is a full rollercoaster ride of feelings across the spectrum – there’s love and fluff and soft, there’s some pangs, there’s a beat of angst, there’s smut.

Author Notes: So, it’s been 6ish weeks since I’ve posted something that wasn’t a babble. I’ve felt clogged and stuck in a way I haven’t in ages. I did not like it. I tried pushing the muse, she wasn’t having it. I backed away from the two stories I was oscillating between and just stopped for a beat. I read some, I tried some prompting, then this gif and a photoset hit back to back. The idea for this just hit me like a ton of bricks. Then the words just came and came and came again. This is the longest piece of fic I’ve ever written.

This falls early in the story of these two, I think this is a cornerstone in the foundation of them. What pieces them together, what makes them THEM. It feels to me that this comes after All’s Fair In Love & Basketball and before Spill The Beans, Break The Ice. Another one that can easily be read as a stand alone but would all add up a little better if you’ve read some of the verse.

“You’re staying tonight right?” he asks, popping out of his closet with a bunch of random shirts in his hands to be folded. “Car’s coming just before you need to leave for the office, so I want as much time with you as possible.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you smile. “Get my fill of you before you’re gone and on the road for 72 days.”

He tosses the clothes haphazardly into the open suitcase next to his dresser and slides next to you on the bed.

“I can make room in my bag and pack you instead,” he teases, nuzzling your temple while taking your hands between his. “You’d be more exciting than more shirts, socks and extra guitar strings.”

You can’t help but giggle a little before leaning your head on his shoulder.

“We’re going to be okay right Shawn?” you say softly, looking at the way your hands lock together. “I know I’m probably being silly, but this is still sort of new, and you know I’m still kinda dealing with the nerves at times, Rockstar. I know we haven’t talked talked. I like where this is going, I’m pretty fond of you, you know. I trust you, it’s not that, but. God, I keep saying but. I’m sorry, I told myself I wouldn’t let this all ruin our night together.”

“Hey, hey it’s ok’s you’re fine,” he replies, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re not crazy and you’re not ruining anything; there’s no need to be sorry. It’s a lot, hell it’s a lot for me too. This is my first time hitting the road having someone like you in my life. It’s not going to be the easiest, only saving grace for us is that it’s not Europe or Asia with crazy time difference. It’s just bopping around North America. I know it’s soon; it feels like we just found our footing in all this, in the us of it and it’s been so great. Now, I’m heading out for two and a half months. We’ll talk, text, FaceTime, all of it. Timing will suck at certain passes, but I want this, I want to make it work. Always know it’s not you, never ever you. Plus, you’re coming out for the last weekend of shows, which gives us both something to count on. You’re stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me, pretty girl.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, bringing your tangled hands up to dust a kiss on the back of his. “I want to be stuck with you, by the way. I kinda like you.”

Shawn frees a hand, shifting your face and cupping a cheek in his palm with his thumb trailing across your cheekbone. He leans in to kiss you ever so gently, “Feeling is so very mutual.”

“Can I help you finish packing?” you question as he still has your face in his palm. “I promise I’ll only steal one, maybe two things”

“Only if we call it after. Shower and cozy down cuddles?” he murmurs, kissing the tip of your nose. “And I’m leaving you a key. You come here whenever you feel you need ok? Promise?”

You nod, biting your lip.

Day One

The morning brings a bit of a heavier goodbye, sniffing on your end, glassy eyes on his. You steal his beige knit sweater with the random patches of open weave to wear over a black cami and leggings. Not exactly the most pulled together office attire, but if you throw on some jewelry, it’ll work. You need a piece of him to have with you through the day. You walk out of the bedroom into the living room and right into his hold.

“This is another see you later,” he sighs into your ear, his arms tight around you. “Except this time, I get to leave with your kiss on my lips. It will work out, there may be bumps, but it will be us on the other side of it. Together. I won’t let it drift, or let you get away.”

You nod into his chest, nose rubbing against the soft cotton of his hoodie.

“I won’t either, Shawn. You’re too special to me,” you respond, chin leaning on his sternum to look up at him. “We both know what it’s like to work hard, we’re just adding something else we want to make a priority is all.”

“And you are, a priority. Even when things get fucking bonkers. Please remember you are,” he replies.

You pop up on your toes to kiss him soundly and his hands come to grip your hips. He’s holding on tightly, there may be bruises later but you’re okay with it. You’ve got a few other little gifts littered across the skin under the sweater from him. There may be one or two you left him with as well.

He leans his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you tightly while your hand comes up to trail through his curls. You’re lost like that for a good couple minutes until you hear his phone go off.

“Walk down with me?” he questions softly, kissing you between each word.

You nod, taking one of his hands from your side to lace with yours.

“You have everything? Passport, AirPods, all the iProducts?” you ask, as he slings his backpack over one shoulder before grabbing his suitcase handle. You grab your bag, knowing you can’t come back in just yet without him there. Maybe in a few days, but not today.

“Triple checked,” he confirms, squeezing your hand as he leads you out towards the elevators.

The dark SUV is waiting at the curb for him when you get to the lobby. He lets go your hand and the suitcase handle at the same time, shifting his backpack on fully. You bite your lip to keep it from wobbling. You thought your resolve would hold, but he’s wiggled his way under your skin in a pretty special way.

“C’mere pretty girl,” he pulls you into his grasp, his head leaning in the space between your neck and your shoulder. “I’m coming back to you, ok? Don’t doubt that.”

“I won’t Shawn, I promise,” you reply. “I’m going to be here when you do. You remember that.”

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead before sliding you closer and kissing you thoroughly. He dusts a few light ones after as you both catch your breath, nose to nose.

“You need to go, you’ll be late,” you mutter against his lips, sipping from them once more. “I don’t need Andrew and Cez mad at me already before you even are officially on the road.”

“I’ll text you when we get into San Francisco, we’ll figure out a time to talk if not tonight, for sure tomorrow,” he says with conviction.

“Go be awesome, Rockstar,” you kiss him one last time before nudging him towards the door. He squeezes your hand, nuzzling your temple with a whispered ‘see you soon sweetheart’ before heading out to the SUV waiting for him.

Sweetheart was a new one. It rolls and wraps around you like a lingering hug from him as you make your way to the office. You like it. You’ll tell him so when you talk next. Rosalie stops you just before you get set to making a tea in the pantry, a smile on her face and a box in hand.

“There’s a delivery for you in your office that came in just before you did,” she explains. “This just got here as you walked in. I’ll drop it on your desk. Also, take your time, going to be a quiet one today with the one team out in Banff for that meeting.”

Tea in hand, you walk into your office. Waiting for you is nondescript box wrapped in butcher paper and a blue sparkly ribbon along with an envelope slid between the bow and the box.             You snag the card first.

Know it’s not me per se but close perhaps? Maybe this little guy can be a bit of a substitute and keep my place warm with you while I’m gone. I at least trust his intentions ;) – S

You can’t help but giggle incessantly when you peek inside the box. Tucked amongst a bunch of confetti laced tissue paper is a dark, curly furred teddy bear with honey brown eyes. What made you laugh out loud though, is that he was very much dressed in what you lovingly call cuddlebug Shawn mode. This little guy has a heathered grey hoodie and blue plaid flannel pajama pants. He even has a tiny acoustic guitar strung across his back. You pick him up out of the box, he’s soft all over, squishy in the right places. As you run your fingers over its fur and across the strings of the tiny hoodie, you swear you catch a whiff of your boy coming from him.

“He would,” you murmur, burying your fingers deeper through the curls of the bear.

Around his neck though, a flash of silver caught your eye. It’s long, on the bear at least. It’s a silver locket, the same size and shape as the silver medallion he always wears. The filigree detail on the front is super fine and delicate. You pop it open and inside is a tiny dried, pressed forget me not. Your breath catches. You carefully unlatch the chain from around the bear’s neck and fasten it around yours, fingers carefully tracing over it as it sits just so on your breastbone. You tuck the teddy back into his box for now and shift focus to the other gift of the day. The box Rosalie had is on your chair, and the inside box is blatantly from Laduree. You don’t even need to open it to know what’s inside. The card on top though, you read before sneaking a cookie from one of the sleeves.

I know you and you’re going to want (and need) something like this today. There’s going to be a few bottles of wine waiting for you at home when you get there too. Also, next weekend – you’re being invaded. I’m in Friday mid-afternoon so, be prepared! Thank your boy for the gift of me, is all his doing. He’s a special one. Love ya girly <3 Didi

“This boy,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair wiping at your eyes and grateful you didn’t do mascara today.

Setting the bar high, aren’t you? Mini me bear Shawn with his little extra gift and Didi for a weekend? You spoil me entirely too much. Thank you, really. He’ll keep me warm, but I definitely prefer the real deal. Fly safe, Shawn <3

Thankfully, Rosalie was right. The office was quiet for a Tuesday, but you’re grateful for it. No video calls, a few of conference calls and a ton of emails aside from regular work. Your phone pinged off in rapid succession at around 5:45 as you were trying to wrap up for the day.

I feel like I spoil you the appropriate amount or sometimes not enough, but we’ll agree to disagree ok? :)

That little guy and I had a long talk, he’s up to the challenge of being my stand in so you’re in good paws with him. And I just helped Didi bump up some plans she had going herself is all.

Finally on the ground, we looped SFO for like an hour because of runway traffic but I did get this sick shot!

(Photo of Golden Gate Bridge with one big fluffy cloud in the background)

May have a dinner now I need to deal with after we settle in and go through a pre pro meeting according to Cez, but I want time with you tonight even if it’s just 5 min.

Dinner is a thing – FaceTime me when you get back to your place? I’ll have time for you before I need to be presentable, time change on our side ftw!

Can I say I miss you already? Is that allowed to be a thing? Cause I do, miss you <3

The flurry of texts makes you giggle and tug at your heart a bit, and it’s only been a couple of hours. It’s an easy decision to head home right then and there.

You have impeccable timing; I was just wrapping up for the day. Should only be a quick hop back to my place.

“So, sweetheart huh?” you smile, cozying into the corner of the couch watching him flop down onto the bed stomach first.

He tinges pink.

“I need to step up the game from Rockstar then,” you tease as the color spreads further across his cheeks and nose.

“Are you done teasing me?” he quips, shifting about again to prop the phone against a pillow. “Is this how this is going to be while I’m on the road?”

“I kid because I care, my dear,” you reply. “Eh, that one needs some work. Ok, but not the go to. Doesn’t feel you enough.”

He laughs brightly. You fall into sync and talk for a good 20 minutes about everything and nothing, your days, what the rest of the week is shaping up like. Then an alert goes off on his phone.

“Time to get a move on. Need to get pulled together enough for this meeting that I can go right from there to dinner,” he sighs, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “One day down. I’m glad this worked out. Like seeing your face, pretty girl.”

“Go, go. I’ll text you tomorrow,” you bite through fighting back a yawn, suddenly super sleepy. “We’ll figure next FaceTime date then.”

“Get some rest. Goodnight sweetheart,” he says softly, blowing you a kiss before disconnecting.

Day 12

I’m sorry, Shawn. Still stuck on a call with the clients from Stockholm. I thought we’d be done before you needed to head to the station :(   UGH. Are you jammed with them until you have to get to the building for soundcheck?

You unmute the line to chime in about the latest opportunities the company could have supporting some of the local conservation efforts, specifically with teaching schoolchildren about environmental impacts. By the time you were done and were able to end the call off your desk line, your cell phone unfortunately forgotten for those few moments, you missed a few messages.

You’re being a bad ass; I can’t fault you for that. Work goes on aside from my wacky schedule. This is the one with the student programming, right?

Interview, performance, meet and greet, liners, some web thing then straight to the arena. Full pack with this group. Sound check shouldn’t be long though. After that but before power nap and pre-show hoopla? We’re 2 hours behind because Arizona is so weird with time change so like 4ish your time?

You were supposed to have another call, but it was something internal. Something you could push, even just to get a few minutes with him.

I’ll push my call, Josue won’t mind. It’s just an internal catch up on something for an Ottawa client. Putting you on my calendar for 30! <3 Call? FT?

Josue is more than happy to shift, even saying he can download you on email if you bring the good coffee and treats when it’s your turn for Friday morning staff pick me up next week.

Call unfortunately for now unless something changes, idk if I’ll have my room alone or if I’m hiding in the bus. But need time with you however I can take it. We’ll figure out FT when we talk later. Go run the world.

He finds a box waiting for him in his dressing room when he walks in with Brian and Cez, having a few moments to be just after soundcheck.

“Oh good, they brought it over. That showed up for you at the hotel, arrived there after we already left for the station. I thought you may want to open it now and not wait,” Cez explains as he scrolls through some emails on his phone. “Come on Brian, let’s give him some space.”

“So, it’s that kind of present then?” Brian snickers before Cez pushes him towards the door.

“Let’s go smart ass. I’ll be back for you Shawn a little before 4 for the meet and greet,” Cez calls as they walk away.

He flips open the box to find another box, this one brightly wrapped with an envelope stuck to the top with a bow. He snags the card first.

When I was away at college, one of the best things was getting care packages especially when I least expected them! Here’s a little taste of that for you, Shawn. Some fun, some practical, some sweet, some absolutely nonsensical. Most of it’s for you but share with the boys as you will. Miss you Rockstar <3

The box was exactly that: two extra phone chargers and another two extra wires because you know how he loses them, a new AirPods charging slide with a deep grey marble case cover, another one of his favorite writing journals, a box of the pens he likes to steal from you when he thinks you’re not looking, a couple tins of his favorite tea, a box of homemade baked goodies, a massive bag of Blow Pops, a bouquet of Tootsie Roll pops, a handful of packages of both Haribo gummy bears and fruit snacks, 2 silly stress ball men whose eyes pop out when you squeeze it, a bunch of random rubber band shooters with a bag of bands, four tubes of glow bands and a rainbow selection of Halloween eye masks.

You’re beyond, you know that? This is amazing, thank you. Cannot wait to talk to you later, pretty girl.

Day 20

The day starts out innocent enough. It was a normal day at the office and with him somewhere still out west, you’ve lost track. Maybe Denver at this point? It’s at least a 2-hour time difference now, that you do know. You get out of a meeting, settling into your office when a text pops through from him.

I miss you, pretty girl. I miss waking up next to you.

You echo the sentiment, skimming back into the brief you just got for a project that you’ll be fully leading out on.  You go head down into work, not paying much mind to your phone for a good block. When you flip back to it, you’re welcomed to two more messages.

I miss your heart beating with mine, how you fit just so in my arms. I miss you in bed with me.

The next is a photo that makes you lose breath. The light streaks over him from what’s probably a recently opened curtain, his hair is a riot of curls and a bit of a wicked smile over his lips. He’s got one arm bent behind his head. The crisp white bedsheets still a mess from the night before and they’re slung just oh so low enough on his hips to know there’s nothing underneath them. Well at least not clothing.

“Shit,” you blurt out loud, but thankfully not loud enough to carry even through your closed office door.

He then progresses to texts you did not expect.

I miss your hands on me, I miss your mouth on mine, how you taste on my tongue, the way you sound when you come.

You flush, even when he’s trying to be dirty, he still sounds beautifully lyrical.

I miss how your breath always catches when I slip into you for the first time, how you get so tight around me, how wet and turned on you get when I’m fucking you.

You quickly get up to DND all the settings for your door card and your work line.

I AM STILL AT WORK SHAWN PETER. What is this? Where is this coming from?

You try to finish the last few emails you must get through in your inbox, you’re not sure what’s going on with this boy of yours.

Can we talk later, FaceTime? Pretty please pretty girl?

You know where he’s going with this. You’ve passed the teasing, alluding texts here and there, a few slightly risqué photos but not this. Not yet at least. And it’s obvious by his build up he’s getting to now, what it will lead to.

As long as you behave while I’m still at the office. Some of us just can’t fuck all in their bed at whatever time of day it is where you are.

You try to shake out the haze settling over your brain when your phone goes off again.

Fuck all is right; I wish it were you though. You’ll always be the better option.

He sends a photo, but you refuse to even open it while at your desk. You have a fairly good idea of what he’s up to.

“Damnit Shawn,” you sigh, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. There’s no way you’re going to be able to finish what you need to if he keeps this up. You flip off a few random gifs, so you don’t have the photo immediately in your chatline.

This is not behaving because I think I know what you’re sending me there, Rockstar. What are you up to here?

It’s early in your day, but you toy with the idea of ducking out.

Can you head home early? You’re all flushed. You’re coming down with something, I think.

“This boy I swear,” you exhale, already shutting down your computer.

I’ll be home in 20, think you can control yourself for a little bit longer?

As you key into your apartment finally, your phone buzzes again. You’ve missed two other messages.

Yes, yes and yes.

I still wish that it’s your hands around me right now.

That makes you warm all over as you walk back into your bedroom, losing almost everything you wore to the office that day. For now, leaving on the thin cami, bra and panties. Before you duck into the bathroom, you scroll back to that photo. It’s what you assumed, though seeing it makes you even warmer; his right hand wrapped around his dick, hard and flushed a deep pinkish purple. You have to take a quick wash of your face because you have a notion that once you’re in bed you won’t get out of it for a bit and really, to help you cool down a little. Once you grab the little drawstring bag from your bedside table and start to settle down onto your bed, another text rings through.

So, what are you wearing?

“Whaaaat?” he whines, scrubbing a hand over his face as soon as you connect on FaceTime.

“That’s what you start out with? And on text? That’s like the epic cliché for a dude who wants to get some, Shawn,” you laugh. “Especially considering I know how dirty you can get on text after the show you put on a few minutes ago.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he groans, burying his face into the pillow. There’s enough light from the open curtains you can see how pink he is, even through the phone’s camera.

“You’re hiding from me now, Rockstar? After ‘what are you wearing’?” you tease. “Or your little diatribe about how you like when I come on your tongue or when I have my lips around your cock?”

“Sweetheart,” he moans, his free hand shifting down from behind his head. “You. God, you sound so good.”

“Isn’t that the point?” you question, shifting around in your bed to get more comfortable. “Get you turned on like that. You did that to me before at the office, then again when I looked at that photo you sent with you fisting yourself.”

“You liked that? Me all hard and wanting you?” he gets breathy as he speaks. “See what thinking about you does, what you do to me.”

“Get mouthy. I know you want to, I know you can,” you egg him on, trying to push his buttons to get him riled up to the point where he was before with you. This time though with you right there to see and be seen.

“Fuck,” he licks his lips. “Yeah? You’re sure?”

“I miss you like this too Shawn,” you admit, fingers tracing over your collarbone. “I’ve missed your hands on me, your lips, your tongue, your dick.”

“You have to too, pretty girl,” he counters, fighting back another deep rumbling from his chest. “Tell me what you want. I need to hear you, see you. Want to make you feel good, make you come.”

“Please Shawn,” you whimper, your fingers tracing the swell of your breast against the cotton of your cami. “Want to get you riled up, watch you come for me. I want to come for you too.”

“I think you’re wearing far too much,” he purrs. “I think we need to get you caught up but not before you let me see what you had on today.”

“If I knew this was happening, I’d have picked something far prettier,” you remark, flipping the tank top over your head.

“You know I have no complaints with your choices in lingerie. Ever. Fact you let me see it on you at all is a privilege,” he chuckles. “Let’s see come on, show me please.”

You were happy you at least slipped on a matching set today. Deep forest green lace with boyshorts. You angle and tilt the phone down so he can see not only the cups of your bra but the line of lace at your hips.

“Oh honey, that is pretty. You’re so damn pretty,” he coos. “Touch yourself, like you’d want me to if we were together.”

His breath stutters as he watches you flick and twist one of your nipples through the lace before peeling the cup back to do the same against bare skin. You both groan.  

“Show me,” you murmur, head bending back into the pillow as you pinch it again. “Want to see you too.”

He grunts deep before flipping the camera shot. He’s harder than before, the head of his cock a deeper red, tinged with purple. His hand moving in slow, easy strokes, squeezing the tip slightly on the up.

“You’re so hard, Shawn, look at you,” you play coy, your free hand slipping to tease the lace trim on your boyshorts. “That all for me?”

“Only you,” he whines, flipping the camera back so you see his face. “Time for you to take off all that lace sweetheart.”

You prop the phone on the pillow next to you, slipping your bra away first then shimming your panties off. You twirl them around on your finger in front of your phone and laugh before snagging it back up.

“All gone,” you giggle, smiling wide as you cup your breasts together to show him your bare skin.

“God, how I miss you,” he whimpers. “You are just so stunning. I’m damn lucky I get to call you mine.”

“I miss you too, Shawn. Wanna show me how much?” you poke, your hand making a trail down your stomach. “You’ve got me all naked in my bed. Tell me how you want me, what you want me to do.”

“I wish that was my mouth making its way down your skin like that,” he sighs. “Bury my head between your thighs and lick you until you’re writhing. Flick your clit against my tongue to the point when I get your legs to shake around me. You always get so fucking wet when I’m eating you out. I can’t ever get enough of how you taste.”

You can’t help but run your hand down further, start circling your clit and whine. Your fingers may be enough tonight you’re wound so tight. It’s been a few days since you’ve gotten off too, that plays in yours, and his, favor this evening.

“Yeah, you like that huh?” he mutters, his own breath growing short. “Fuck, don’t hold back. Don’t bite that lip of yours. You look so good like this. Let me hear you. Just like I was there.”

“Shawn please,” you sob, speeding and tightening the circles, pressing down a little more.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he pushes, his own hand tightening around him. “You wanna come? You want it like it was my mouth milking it out of you or you want it like my cock buried deep inside you?”

“Shit,” you draw out.

“Come on sweetheart, gotta tell me so I can get you there,” he pants, trying to stave off the build he’s starting to feel watching you. “Need you to come for me, see you fall apart. I want to know how you want it.”

“Fuck me, please. I want your dick in me and your thumb on my clit to get me there. Please, please Shawn,” you practically beg.

He hisses not expecting you to go there, shifting down to roll and pull at his balls. He knows if he keeps up the assault on his cock the way he has, he’d come far, far too soon. He wants to enjoy this, enjoy you before he comes himself.

“You know how much I like sinking into you, watching your eyes go wide and start to roll back when my head just starts to stretch you and slip inside,” he utters, that thought even making him throw his head back. “The way you just clench around me, you���re always so warm and wet and tight. I never will be sick of that feeling.”

“Oh, oh, I’m so close,” you stutter out, hand flicking even faster. “Shawn, Shawn please.”

“That’s it honey, you look so damn good like this. I’ll never be tired of seeing you this way,” he urges, hand back to skimming over himself just slightly. “Just like that. How I want that to be my hips slipping against yours, grinding my dick deep in you. When you get this close, you flutter around me and I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything better. Come on, come for me. Please sweetheart, show me how pretty you are when you come.”

It hits you hard and fast, hearing his voice that raspy asking for you to come for him. You lock eyes with him and cry out, arching your back. You work yourself through it until you’re far too sensitive to keep even a light circle going against your clit.

“You feeling good over there?” he teases.

“You’re how damn far away and you just made me come like a freight train,” you mutter, reaching for a tissue.

“Lemme see first,” he bites out quickly, his hand speeding up a little against his cock.

“You wanna see how wet you got me, Shawn?” you ask. “That going to wind you up more? Knowing how you still get me going, even this way? How even just your voice and how dirty your mouth gets can still make me come this hard?”

“Yeah,” he groans as you lift your hand towards the phone. “Shit, look at that.”

“It’s all your turn now,” you reply, quickly wiping your hand. “How do you want me? On my knees sucking your deep?”

“I’d never say no to your mouth,” he huffs out. “But it’s not gonna take much. Watching you come like that, god I already know I’m not going to last. I want to fuck you. Ride me? I love having you in my lap. Want my lips sucking at your nipples while you’re sliding down my dick, settling down on me.”

“My hands in your hair, tangled up in those damn curls of yours. My mouth on that spot on your neck, the one on the left side that just makes you squirm when I latch onto it every single time,” you start. “I hit that spot and you always rock your hips up into me. Doesn’t matter if we’re just making out or you’re inside me. When I’m on top of you like that though, you always slide further, deeper.”

“Yes, yeah just like that honey,” he moans loudly, free hand pawing at his own chest while the one around him starts to speed up even more. “Need you, need more of you.”

“Want me bouncing on your cock? Or do you want me grinding down and circling? I know you; you want both. Grinding first, then when I feel you getting even harder, that’s when you’re close. That’s when you want me to pull off you slowly, then slam back down on you. Isn’t that right, Shawn?” you draw out.

“You feel so good. So, so fucking good. God yes,” he sobs, his strokes now shorter, fingers hitting closer to that spot just under the head that makes his hips tipping up even more. “Shit. Wanna come inside you. Please, sweetheart. Please let me come inside you. I love how it feels when I come in you, you’re all warm and wet.”

“Let me see you come, Shawn. Let go for me. Lemme see those pretty eyes of yours when I make you fall apart into pieces and come. Please come for me,” you plead.

His eyes flash open, only a tiny ring of brown visible. His jaw drops and he lets go the most delectable sounds. His hand slows as the last strangling noise leaves his lips.

“Oh, oh shit. Oh. Wow,” he huffs. “I don’t think I’ve come that hard and that much since the first night we slept together.”

He flips the camera again, he’s definitely a mess of come with puddles and streaks all up his stomach, pooling in certain dips of his abs. His cock, twitching slightly, when you bite your lip to fight back a moan.

“Are you trying to make me want to come again?” you huff out.

“I’d need a few to catch my breath because damn,” he exhales, reaching for what you think is a hand towel to mop himself up.

“Honey?” you prod after he’s clean and breathing at a normal pace again, his eyes are back open to focus on you.

“Yeaaaaah,” he chirps back. “Our thing now. Add it to the list.”

“Mmkay. I miss you,” you sigh. “I want to cuddle up on you right now.”

“Me too. Kiss all over your face,” he replies. “Miss you too pretty girl. Miss you so damn much. This will help keep me for a bit, I’ve got something new to use for some fuel without you. I think though that we need to do this again soon. Cause hot damn.”

“You’re such a boy,” you giggle.

“Your boy though,” Shawn smiles, making kissy faces at you.

Between Day 34 and Day 41

It has been a few days of just missing each other, timings were all off, his schedule is changing on the fly to the point that neither you nor he could both keep up anymore aside from the definite moments of shows. The label was adding things left and right, days off were slipping away. Missed calls and FaceTimes, texts going unanswered for hours, not the normal lag times you’ve both become accustomed to. It took this long to finally hit the skid you both knew would eventually come, what you didn’t realize was how hard it would shake you and how deep it would run.

You end up taking a work from home day and you work from your home, not his place despite wanting to post up there to just have a better sense of feeling close to him. You need to be able to have those mood swing moments from mad to upset to indifferent without folks in your office poking in to see what’s got you in a tizzy. It’s been three days now of just clipped responses via text, short and unlike the Shawn you’ve grown to know and care for, a “k” here or a yes/no there and zero tries or asks about getting calls or anything set up, let alone trying to talk with you over text about anything. You were trying, but it stopped last night. The ball is now in his court. You also have a major proposal that needs to be approved internally and out the door to a client by the end of the day tomorrow. You live and breathe work those two days, barely functioning outside of it. Partly because of your deadline, partly to not face the feelings swirling around inside you.

You send a silly meme on Saturday morning to him feeling a little lighter after your work is complete. You’re met with nothing but the same silence you’ve faced for days. You crack on that night.

Instagram is a flood of photos and boomerangs and videos. It wasn’t one post; it was the whole crew. All of them posting throughout the night. You knew they were all busting your ass, so of course it made sense to have a night out to blow off steam with a supposed two days off following. It looks to be their typical wild night out. Which you don’t begrudge. However, you hadn’t heard a peep from him in three, going on four days. Not an emoji, not a missed call, a gif. Nothing. It wasn’t the night out that had you set off; it was the buildup of feeling like you don’t matter anymore, especially when things seem to get a little tricky.

You bite your lip to not only stop the wobbling, but to prevent you from the start of the tears. You press down so hard you draw blood. You don’t want to overreact, but everything you talked about, all that you promised each other feels like it was just empty words. This all isn’t it. This isn’t making you guys a priority despite all the outside forces that come down with a tour. Your mind is racing, wanting to let him know his actions have consequences. Your thoughts deserve more than a text, this was so much more than that. Knowing there’s no way he’d hear a ring wherever they were, between the noise and being too wrapped in their night, you hit call instead.

“I’m not sure what to say or how to say it, but it all boils down to that I’m really tired of feeling like shit because of you Shawn,” you start, sniffling. “Couple days of missing each other like passing ships shouldn’t result in you being short and moody to me for the time you have been, let alone followed up by total silence from you for days. Days, Shawn. Not hours, fucking days. That’s not okay. We knew it would be hard, we knew we’d have to put in the effort and the work, but we both seemed to agree to want it and each other. We were going to be a priority. We wanted this us of ours. We both have been putting in that work for like the last 30 something days. This last couple days, it’s not that. This is the opposite of it. A simple text saying you’re crazed or overwhelmed, something anything really would be better than this.”

You take a deep breath and, on the exhale, sob.

“If this is what happens when the going gets tough or tricky with you, I don’t want it. Ever. I’m not even sure me calling and telling you this will even matter, I don’t know a hell of a lot of anything right now,” you bite out between some tears. “I guess, I’d just like to know either way what the hell is going on if this is your not so subtle way of ghosting me to end it or what have you. More so, so I can settle my emotions and my heart around it all. I’m not mad, I’m just fucking sad and disappointed. Maybe more at myself for believing all you said to me.”

You end the call, throwing the phone across the room before tucking your knees up and fully breaking down. At some point you curl up in a ball on the couch and fall fitfully asleep there. Waking up around 11:45 am, beyond late for you, you still feel awful. This wasn’t some nightmare. It was very much real.

“Hell,” you sigh loudly, trying to pop your neck, back and shoulders as you decide what you need to do before facing the day and your phone.

When you manage to pick up your phone, by some miracle it did not break, the alerts and notifications are taking up your lock screen. 7 Missed FaceTimes, 18 missed calls, almost a dozen voicemails and about 30 texts from Shawn alone. Let alone the handful of texts and missed calls from Tristian, Hirashan, Miguel, Didi, Tomas and then surprisingly, his sister, Brian and Cez. You must shower, put on some fresh clothes and drink a copious amount of water to rehydrate after all the crying before you can even think about catching up on everything that’s on your phone.

You fire off a quick reply in the group text to Hirashan, Miguel, Didi and Tomas first.

Not sure how much you heard, or what you know or got told but it’s not pretty right now. I’m at my place and have been, I crashed after a draining phone call and a good sob. I need to get myself together. Let me wrap my head around what I’m waking up to. Thank you for all just being here and caring.

The shower and clean, comfy clothes help, as does the gigantic sparkling water you gulp down, taking the refill with you to the couch to finally address the elephant in the room, your cellphone. You scroll through the others first before getting to the plethora waiting for you from him.

My brother is a moron on a good day and I’m sorry he’s being an even bigger one now. I haven’t talked to him, so I don’t exactly know what all happened, but I heard him on with Mum and Dad before. He sounded like shit and I just heard him say how lost and broken you sounded. Which means he was an asshole somehow. I told him you’re too good for him when he brought you home for the first time. I’m on your side no matter what nonsense he pulls, cause again, he’s an idiot. Text me if you’re up for it. I won’t tell anyone, promise.

So, you know because I think you’d want to know, I’ve got him and I’m staying with him tonight. He refused at first, but I won out in the end. Got him into his room and he spilled out only about the voicemail you left, nothing more, then cried and crashed. I’m not taking sides, think of me as Switzerland. From someone who has done this road thing before many a time, it’s fucking hard, but it doesn’t excuse what I think went down. Going to try to talk to him more in the morning. I’m here for you too, my dear. What you guys have, it’s something special. Will help however I can.  

He won’t tell me what went down, but he’s pretty broken up. Wtf happened? Like I know, not my place, but I care bout you too. You’ve become a part of our little fam. If you don’t want talk to him, or even me really, just at least please text me to let me know you’re safe and ok as you can possibly be. C has him, which is a good thing as he’s good in those capable, responsible adult hands.

Even though I was friends first with him, doesn’t mean I don’t think of you as a good friend either. Talk or not, whatever you need. I’m a phone call, text or Uber ride away.

You tilt your head back on the couch, not expecting any of that from his people. You’re blown away, grateful. You only answer Cez.

Thank you. I’m glad you took him. Part of me wants you to beat the nonsense out of him, but that’s me running on emotions and shit sleep. I’m not going to say anything, at least not yet, let him get his piece out to you first. Thank you for being there, for both of us. Can you let Brian know I’m alright? He checked in as well and I just can’t do more than this, to you, yet. Talk soon, ok?

You take a deep breath, roll your neck and prepare yourself to dig into everything left. The first few from Shawn you couldn’t completely make out or decipher, but as you started scrolling through, they got a little clearer especially the last few.

I know sorry isn’t enough, it’s never going to be enough. Me missing you, schedules getting tossed about and not being able to sync, I shouldn’t have let it get to that point. Of like utter dissonance. Which turned into anxiety and anger and all these other emotions. But I am sorry, I’m so sorry.

I let it take over and fester and I was an ass to everyone, not just you, that’s not an excuse or a reason or justification or aaanything like that.

Fuck. I wish I could rewind the last few days.

I can say a lot, that I should have known better, because I do, that I shouldn’t have gotten that far in my head, that I should have talked to you straightaway, that I’m a jackass for hurting you and making you feel that way. I never should be the one to cause you that much pain and heartache and brokenness.

Your voice there, I never want to hear it that way, let alone be the one to make you sound like that.

I should never have let it get to the point where you think I don’t care; that you’re not someone I truly care for and want in my life or that you’re not a priority or that you feel my words are baseless and empty.

Because you are, you’re becoming the most important person in my heart.

My actions are inexcusable, full fucking stop, and I hate I’m texting this all to you, you’ll hear some of it in bits and pieces on the voicemails I left.

I want to say fuck it and sneak out to hop a plane back to you, to talk to you in person, to apologize in person, to see you pretty girl, so I can start to fix this.

Because I do. Want to fix this. I’m really hoping this isn’t broken, that you’re not broken to the point of beyond fixing. That I haven’t broken you or this to the point of disrepair.

There’s so much more I want to say to you sweetheart, but I don’t want to do it this way. Please call me, text me, something, when you’re ready.

You take to listening to all the voicemails, some were just dead air, him trying you again, some had broken versions of what he texted you. The last one got you because you heard him as despondent as you felt last night, his voice crackling with emotions, even crying at the end of the last one.

You began crying again in earnest at his crying.

“Damnit Shawn,” you sigh, crashing back on to the couch trying to figure out what to say, at least for now.

It shouldn’t take me calling like that, let alone getting that upset, to get you to stand up and pay attention Shawn. Please give me a beat to wrap my head around all this. I’ve listened to and read everything you sent; I need to sit with it - you owe me at least that.

I’m still fond of you, but I’m not liking you too much right now.

He rereads her texts before slumping over, hands pulling at his hair.

“Did you get in touch with her?” Cez asks, sitting down next to him.

“Kind of? She texted me back finally. The last one. It hurt. I deserve it though. All that matters is I royally fucked up and I don’t know if I can fix it, as much as I want to,” Shawn mumbles.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this invested,” Cez replies. “You both seemed to have a handle on trying to balance the road thing. At least minus this last week on your end. What happened?”

“It started out as just bad timing, missing each other and timing not meshing but then it was more of that. I got in my head, anxious and upset, sort of angry. Not at her but at what we were trudging through,” he begins. “It boiled up and over, honestly for no good reason other than I was tired and frustrated at the situation. I made it out to be like I was that way at her and towards her. I shut down. I was an asshole and did exactly the opposite of everything I promised her, that we really promised to each other before I flew out. I started to get that way around here too.”

Shawn sighs, sitting up and rubbing at his neck.

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her. Funny way I have of showing it,” he sighs, flopping back on the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Love huh?” he prompts, trying to let Shawn lead the conversation.

“I almost said something before I left, but I didn’t want it to be questioned that I was saying it just because I was leaving. That’s not it. It’s, being with her, getting to know her, falling deeper with her, it’s all drilling down to really just loving her,” Shawn laments. “This feeling, her really, it’s found a space in me that takes up a place in my heart just like music and my family. She makes me a better version of me now that she’s in my life. I knew from the first moment we met, she was going to be special to me. Wasn’t sure what or how. But now? She’s so smart, cares more than anyone I know, she sees me for me and not all this other stuff I’m immersed in. She’s what I want. I don’t want this without her, man.”

“I think you figured out the start of what you need to tell her?” Cez questions.

“I started to, in the texts and the rambling voicemails, but I need to talk it out with her, whenever she’s willing to talk to me. If she’s willing to talk to me,” Shawn utters.

“Talking though, communication, that’s what got you through the first chunk of this tour. Remember that. Be honest, be open with her, you owe her that. Take it from someone who has gone through it before. Make the time. Hell, tell me you need the time and I’ll do what I can on my end to help you with that. Please do yourself a favor though, don’t tell her you love her now over the phone after a fight. That’s meant for a good memory, and for you to be there with her, not amidst all this,” Cez notes.

“How’d you get so wise?” Shawn remarks. “I’m hoping she’ll be willing to talk to me. I need to fight for her, for us, for this. It’s too special. She’s my lightning in a bottle, Cez.”

“Give her the time, whatever she needs. Start slowly when she does. Prove to her, and to yourself, that everything you both said to each other does really mean something,” he responds. “Now come on, let’s go get you some air.”

“I know they’re finishing load in now, but do you think I can get in there today? Even for like half an hour?” he asks.  

The next morning, your phone pings off quickly in succession.

I promise you won’t hear from me after this until you’re ready, I want you to take whatever time and whatever you need.

But I’m sending this to you first because I don’t want you to be blindsided. I’m toying with dropping this tonight. I don’t know but I also think I need to have this moment of feelings out there. To be raw and vulnerable. Honest. Fully visible.

This isn’t the grandmaster fix, I know that, but this one has been bubbling up for a bit in me and it’s fitting, apropos even but you needed to get it and hear it first. Because it is for you, it is you.

It’s two files, a video and an audio. You click the video first. You’re a glutton for punishment, even when you’re upset with him.

Shawn has his phone propped up on the music rack of the piano he’s been touring with. He’s on stage, you can’t remember where he’s supposed to be playing tonight. It’s dim and he’s alone. He takes a deep breath, eyes closing slowly as he places his hands on the keys and he lays in. The chords are melancholy.  

“A tornado flew around my room before you came. Excuse the mess it made, it usually doesn't rain in Southern California, much like Arizona. My eyes don't shed tears, but, boy, they bawl,” he sings. “When I'm thinkin' 'bout you, I've been thinkin' 'bout you, I've been thinkin' 'bout you, do you think about me still? Do ya, do ya? Or do you not think so far ahead? 'Cause I been thinkin' 'bout forever.”

His voice isn’t like you’ve heard before, it’s got tinges of things you don’t want to even think about. That sound winds deeper into his voice as the song goes on.

“Damnit Shawn,” you stammer, a tear rolling down your cheek at the end of the video.

What do you do when the stupid manboy you’re upset with goes and pulls something epic to try to start making things up to you while he’s hundreds of miles away?

You shouldn’t, but you transfer the mp3 to your phone to sync to your Apple Music.

You got the song?

“Of course, he knew about it,” you mutter.

Does he mean it? I need you to shoot straight with me, Cez. I don’t need to know everything or anything he talked to you about, I’m not going to break that trust. But I need to at least know this. Please.

You’re not sure how to take this all. This isn’t the magic pill to swallow and everything will be fixed or okay, but this is something you can’t take lightly. He is completely right. It’s open and honest, emotional and raw. It hits you square in the gut, let alone the heart.

Without a doubt. Truly.

Won’t say much more, but I want you to know this. I’ve been with him for a while, through a lot with him. He’s like a son. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this in his feelings about anyone before.

You can’t let this rot away, as much as you’re hurting, and you want him to hurt like you do. It’s not good for anyone. You need to talk, to see if you can fix it. He seems to want to, you feel like you do. You won’t know for sure unless you talk and see him while you’re talking.

When does he have a free pocket today? Can you get him somewhere, safe and alone? With a laptop?

Your brain starts to spin, but your phone pulls you out of it.

I’ll make it happen. I’ll get him into my room, my laptop. Want to say 4:30? We’re still dark tonight and dinner isn’t set plans tonight. Even if it is, this will give you time without rushing. I’ll make sure of it.

Still enough time to wrap your head around what’s coming but not so much that you’re going to get caught up in it. Part of you wants to shower, but the other part wants him to see how much of a mess he’s made.

Perfect, thank you kind sir.

“Thanks for all this,” you fight out, still nervous.

“Of course, I only want the best for both of you. Remember that, not just him,” Cez half smiles. “Let me go get Shawn. Hold tight, he’s just next door.”

The next thing you know, Cez is pushing Shawn down by the shoulders to sit in the desk chair.

“Holy shit,” Shawn exclaims, eyes wide and slack jawed when he sees your face on the screen in front of him.

“No one knows you’re in here, but the door is fully locked up tight, I’ll be in the bedroom with door shut and earbuds in,” he replies, patting his right shoulder. “You two take your time.”

Once the door clicks shut behind Cez, you two just look at each other and you stay that way for a few moments. He looks tired, like he’s been pulling at his curls for hours. You know you can’t look much better.

“I’m afraid to start,” his voice trembling. “Because I don’t know…”

“Me either,” you whisper, swiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

“Sweetheart, please don’t cry,” he pleads, holding back tears of his own. “I’m sorry, I’m so damn sorry.”

“I know you are,” you hiccup. “That doesn’t take away how you made me feel this week, Shawn.”

“I shouldn’t have let it get that far. My anxiety, my issues, I should have never taken it out on you, never made you feel like it was you when it was all on me and how I was coping. I shut down and shut off and that’s not right nor is it an excuse,” he explains. “I know better than this on how to manage my anxiety and it wasn’t right or fair to you whatsoever. It’s one thing when it’s just me. This is different, with us.”

“That wasn’t what I signed up for. That was the polar opposite of how we said we’d take things while you’re gone,” you sigh, swiping again at your tear stained cheeks. “We were doing as well as can be, then it was like a switch flipped.”

“I think the schedule getting fucked on my end threw me more for a loop than I thought it would,” he says, threading a hand through his hair. “Again, not an excuse but losing those pockets of time off, those days. It’s always been difficult and would make the anxiety spike, but I also only had me to worry about last time through. But I want to have to worry about you, think about you as a priority in all of this. I should have leaned on folks, leaned on you, pretty girl.”

“You know, this is what I was worried about. Before you left,” you tread carefully. “We knew it was going to be hard, but we were making it work. Almost halfway and we were getting through it. Damn Shawn last week was brutal. I don’t think I’ve felt that…discarded before.”

That’s what cracks him, a loud sniffle and the tears fall from there.

“It breaks me, that I was the one who made you feel like that,” he stammers. “I can’t get that tone you had from your voicemail out of my head. And that I drove you to it? It eats away at me. I want to fix this, this, us, it’s worth all the work, however hard it gets.”

“Are you sure about that?” you respond quickly. “Cause I just saw the opposite of that firsthand and my heart can’t take that again, Shawn. You’ll break me.”

“I’m committing myself more to this, to you. I’ll talk to Cez and Andrew, make sure I have actual breaks and not just run for 72 hours straight not knowing up from down,” he ticks off. “I will do whatever it takes to start earning the trust and respect back.”

“The song. Was that a first step?” you wonder about out loud.  

“The song,” he exhales. “I started toying with that first day in San Fran. Did you listen? Do you like it? It fit, trying to be present but looking forward. For me, to that day I got you from the airport before those last shows, to when I was back home with you, after that even.”

“It’s beautiful, you sound stunning on it,” you remark. “That song is why we’re on FaceTime right now. I think you should release it if you want. It’s your feelings, Shawn. Up to you if you want to share it with the world. Damnit, I miss you. And I don’t want to lose you, but last week…”

“Last week isn’t indicative of me.  I think, well at least I hope, you know that,” he jumps in. “The song was for you, is for you. I wouldn’t let it out there if you weren’t okay with it. It’s a statement, folks don’t know who or why, but you would. Honestly, that’s all that matters to me right now is you. Say the word and I’m on a plane back, I can get to you and be back in time for the show tomorrow night.”

“Cez and Andrew would kill me, then kill you, then come back to get me again,” you half chuckle, half sniffle. “I would love for you to be here, but I wouldn’t ask you to do that as much as I want you here. It means a lot that you’re offering and that you would though. I need this Shawn who is willing to do that with me for the last 30 some odd days of tour.”

“You mean that?” he asks, eyes glassy but brighter than you’ve seen.

“It’s going to take that work, from both of us, and I’m going to still be a little cautious, a little guarded. You must understand that though coming back into this. It’s going to take me a bit to be as easy as it was earlier on,” you lay out.

“Whatever you need, baby,” he replies.

“Baby?” you squeak out.

“Shit shit I’m sorry, it just slipped,” Shawn rambles. “I didn’t even…”

“No, no I just. That’s ok. It’s, I mean,” you stumble. “You’ve never called me that before. It’s, it feels intimate. I think I like it, coming from you. I never did before from anyone. I always shut that down right quick. But, you. It sounds right, the way you’re saying it, in your voice.”

“Yeah?” he prods, getting bashful.

You nod, turning an even brighter shade of pink. This wasn’t what you expected, but you’ll be cautiously optimistic about it.

“I miss you, pretty girl, so much,” Shawn props his chin on his hand looking at you softly. “Why don’t you go rest, it’s been a whirlwind the last bit to say the least.”

“I don’t want the bubble to burst,” you confess, pulling at your sleeves.

“Can I call you later? Please?” he requests. “I can text you when I know what the dinner plan is, then figure from there?”

“I’d like that,” you confirm, a slight smile sliding across your lips.

Day 48

You decide to take the weekend at the condo, needing to get away but not away away. Plus, you want to either despite of or because of, which honestly probably was a combination of both, the last blip, you have this need and sense to feel close to him in some way to try to keep putting the pieces back together.

You’re both still stepping cautiously, watching every step to get back to where you were before, so you text on Wednesday to ask if it’s ok if you head over after work on Friday and spend the weekend there.

I gave you the key for a reason, this one specifically. I still want you to feel like you have somewhere you can escape to while I’m not there if you need it. Please go. I’ll feel better knowing you’ll be there taking a breather.

You don’t get to leave the office on time Friday by any means, stumbling into Shawn’s place a little after 8. There’s a small vase of dusty lavender peonies studded with fresh lavender sprigs on the side table by the door, with a card propped against it clearly in his handwriting.

A few little things are here for your weekend to make you feel more at home, yet on a little retreat. Keep your eyes open, you may find things when and where you least expect it. Rest, relax and just be while you’re here, pretty girl. Miss you.

Those little things so far include more flowers on the kitchen island, your favorite wine and seltzer in the fridge along with a plethora of other things you’re fond of food wise. You send off a quick text before moving on.

How?

You wander down to the bedroom to drop your overnight bag and change. Fresh sheets on the bed, lavender scented candles on either bedside table, along with a familiar black tub and spray bottle from Lush on the table you’ve been calling your side when you’ve stayed over before, as well as a shirt you distinctly remember helping him pack folded neatly at the end of the bed on top of the extra blanket. You can see some other lavender goodies in a basket on the bathroom counter. You’re about to slide out of your work clothes and into the shower when a text alert chimes through.

I have my ways :)

His ways, you’re fairly sure, are either Tristian, but this is far too neat, thoughtful and pulled together. Or his Mom.

I’m calling your Mom tomorrow to thank her.

You shower quickly, sliding his shirt on after and grateful he sent it. It’s soft and has a strong, lingering scent of him woven into the worn cotton. You forgo anything else for the night and slip beneath the sheets before checking your phone again.

Can a man have no secrets?

My idea, you realize, all of it. Mum just helped make sure it fell into place exactly how I wanted it all to be for you.

Try to have a disconnected weekend. Mute shit on your phone, just not me. Delete shit if you must and reinstall it when you’re back at the office on Monday. You take care of you the next couple days. If there’s anything else you need, you tell or text me and I’ll make sure it, and you, are good. Call you after the show tonight, baby.

Day 54

Your mom just invited me to brunch and shopping with her and your sister on Saturday.

You really like his family; they’ve been nothing but warm and welcoming since Shawn introduced you all. They make you feel like you belong in this little unit with them even though you and Shawn are still navigating the newness and even more so now that you’re feeling a bit more on steady ground with him after a few weeks ago.

They miss you! And want to see you. But it’s not like I miss you. Also, closest thing to getting a real live dose of me is a dose of them. Mum’s idea. I’m all for it. Told her and Liyah you’d be game. I like you all talking and hanging out, even if it is without me. All my girls together and happy.

All my girls reverberates in your head, pinballing around your heart. It pulls at you. Your phone shakes you from your thoughts.

Don’t be worried, or nervous even. No bad motives here whatsoever. It’s a parental thing to want to do all this or so she tells me ;)

Just no crazy escapades, my sister is still a baby. Remember that.

You can’t help but giggle. This boy. How you miss him.

Ok so take off check out piercing places from the list. Good to know.

Your phone rings immediately.

Day 61

“Homestretch,” you sigh, falling deeper into the pillows. “Everything I borrowed from you doesn’t smell like you anymore. Makes me sad.”

“You know you can go into my closet or the drawers to snatch something else. Thank god it is the backstretch,” he agrees. “Soon enough, sweetheart. Me and you in that bed together.”

“S’not the same, Shawn. And you promise?” you whisper, eyes starting to flutter shut.

“Mmhmm, I’m turning my phone off for at least a week. Anyone desperately needs me; they can find me through you so it’s only the super important folks. I want us to figure out some time away from Toronto, just me and you. I want to make sure we get time for us, to make sure we get to reconnect without any noise. We’ll figure it out when I’m home with you,” he utters. “Baby, you’re fighting it. Don’t. Go get some sleep.”

“Just a little,” you murmur, nuzzling into the pillow. “Missed you though, Shawn. Wanted to talk at least even for a tiny bit. Mmm vacation. Somewhere warm, over Toronto cold.”

“Warm it is,” he whispers. “Sleep now. We’ll talk again tomorrow on FaceTime, an off day with just travel in the morning.”

“Ok, sweetheart. G’night,” you whisper.

You wake up to a text the next morning

I can absolutely get used to you calling me sweetheart especially in that sleepy, cuddly cozy voice of yours.

Day 72

You come out of the shower to a bunch texts, which isn’t out of the ordinary to have a flurry of messages in the morning, but they’re not from Shawn or Didi who are the normal culprits. This time it’s a few from Cez, another three from Connor. At first you wonder if he lost or broke his phone but that’s not the case. You open Connor’s first.

He was being nauseatingly adorable so I figured you may want to see and enjoy or gag like I did :D

The next was a video clip of the crew meandering their way through the airport, heading down an escalator.

“Hey Shawn, where we off to?” you hear Connor ask from behind the camera.

“Last shows of tour. We’re off to New York,” Shawn smiles wide. “We did it. We’re wrapping it all up. Looking forward to these, they’re special.”

“Any reason for that shit eating grin?” he teases. “That’s more than a yes, a fantastic tour is over woo look on your face. We’ve come to know a face like that when a FaceTime call rings through. Come on bro, fess up.”

His smile softens a little, cheeks flushing, “I finally get to have my girl come in. She’ll be here for the last shows of tour. She hasn’t seen this show yet at all. So, I’m excited for that. I’ve missed her. And I get to have my family here too. All the people I really care about with me for this. Best way to wrap this era.”

“I can’t wait to get this reunion on film,” Connor pokes. “Epic blackmail material.”

“You wish, man,” Shawn shoves at him. “Not happening.”

“We’ll see, I think you may want that for posterity’s sake. Could be good…” he starts in before getting interrupted.

“To New York!” someone else calls out and the group. Shawn looks at Connor and the camera, smiling again before the clip cuts out.

He looked extra sweet and all that, so I needed to send you the still from it cause it’s a thing you should have coupleish shit and all. Fly safe, we need you here in one piece for him but cause me and you, we need to drink!

You trace over the photo with your finger, you’ve missed him. This was hard, harder than you both thought despite the effort and the trying and the energy. But. But you made it, battle scars and all. You got through 72 days. It makes you realize that him, that this of the two of you. It’s worth it. He’s worth it all.

The next block from Cez are confirming all your travel details, letting you know you’re in first and alone, with his family coming in later that night.

You didn’t hear this from me, but he’s nervous, excited, a little twitchier than normal. Vibrating out of his skin practically but smiling more than I’ve seen. He’s also fighting me on wanting to come to get you at the airport. No promises, but just to prepare you. Think I may let him win this one just this once.

Text or call if you need anything in the meantime and I’ll keep an eye on all the travel timing from my end as well. Look forward to getting more time with you this weekend!

As you are heading back from some last-minute errands so you can finish packing for your super early flight tomorrow morning, your phone trills.

“I get to see you tomorrow, baby. Like in person. With hugs, kisses and you tucked up against me,” he sighs. “I get to have you in my arms and at my show and in my bed. 72 fucking days, we did it.”

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[blurry-fics]

Don’t Want The World To See Me

Pairing: Tyler Joseph x Reader

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 3022

Request: Iris - GooGoo dolls for Tyler song imagine

Author’s Note: As the request indicates, this fic is based on the song Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls! It’s written a little differently than what I usually do, but I think it turned out pretty good. Also, hopefully you aren’t minding all the long fics lately. I’ve been trying to keep them on the shorter side, but I inevitably get carried away ever time. Anyway, I hope you like this one! :) (picture credit)

Confetti was still falling slowly over the crowd, casting a yellow tint to the faces looking back at him. A smile was plastered on his face, but it was only for show. His mind had been elsewhere the entire night, distracting him from fully focusing on the music. It wasn’t a feeling that Tyler was used to and he had done his best to make it appear as if everything was fine, though deep down he knew it wasn’t.

When Josh wrapped a sweaty arm around him, he hardly felt it. A slight nudge reminded him to bring the microphone to his lips and repeat the words he said every night.

“We’re Twenty One Pilots and so are you.”

The room erupted in cheers as Tyler held his hands up, crossing one of his fingers behind the others. He didn’t have to turn his head to know that Josh was doing the same next to him. After one final glance around the room, Tyler turned and walked offstage.

People swarmed around him the second he arrived backstage, taking things from his hands or offering him something. He grabbed a water bottle from a nearby crew member and quickly took off the cap, downing the entire thing in one go. Another faceless hand held a towel out to him, which he took and threw around his neck. His free hand reached up and used the fabric to wipe away the sweat that had collected along his shirt collar.

Crew members threw praise at him as he made his way back to the dressing room, to which he simply smiled and quickly thanked them. In his head, he could only remember all the things that had gone wrong. If you asked him, this had been one of the worst shows of the tour so far. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. With how he was feeling tonight, how could a show have gone well?

It was a relief when he finally made it to his dressing room, providing him with his first moment alone. He needed to take a second to compose himself before he would be stuck on the bus and forced to put on a brave face for everyone. There was only one person that he was ever willing to let to fully let his guard down around, and they were currently halfway across the country at home in Ohio.

Tyler would give anything to be in their arms right about now.

His moment alone was ended promptly by a knock on his dressing room door. A crew member popped her head in shortly after he answered.

“We’re getting ready to pack up the room soon. Do you need more time?”

“No, I’ll be out of here in a second,” Tyler answered.

“Ok. Thank you.”

He slowly wandered over to the mirror on one side of the room and leaned forward, firmly resting his hands on the counter in front of him. He took a moment to study his face, wondering if the pain that he could so clearly see within it was evident to anyone else.

Tyler eventually pulled himself away from the mirror, gathered up what few personal belongings he had brought with him into the room, and began the walk to the tour bus. This was the last moment of peace he would get until he laid down for bed that night, so he was determined to make the most of it. He slowed his pace to nearly a crawl and allowed his eyes to roam over every inch of the plain, concrete walls. If he listened carefully, he could make out the distant hum of people leaving the venue after the show.

Cool wind whipped at Tyler’s cheeks the moment that he pushed the big metal door open. As much as he wanted to avoid people just a few moments longer, the single gust of wind was enough to make him want nothing more than to be wrapped in a warm blanket inside. His feet carried him quickly across the pavement to the tour bus. With shaking fingers, he entered the code and quickly ascended the stairs to the main part of the bus.

“There he is,” Brad smiled, immediately clapping a hand down on Tyler’s shoulder. “Nice job tonight, man.”

“Thanks,” Tyler returned his smile and straightened his back a little. “It was a good show tonight.”

He waited until Brad’s hand had dropped away from his shoulder before making an excuse about needing to get changed and slipping away to the back room. It felt nice to get out of his show clothes and into something more comfortable and clean. Although it didn’t entirely take away the discomfort he was feeling, it did help lift his spirits a little. Before he went to rejoin the rest of the guys, he sent a quick text to Y/N.

Tyler: Could really use some time with you tonight. If not, that’s ok too. I love you

He watched the screen for a moment, silently hoping that they would answer instantly and he would have an excuse to stay in his room for the rest of the night, but when the screen of his phone eventually faded to black, he knew that wasn’t the case. With a sigh, he stuffed his phone back into the pocket of his sweatpants and joined the rest of the guys on the couch.

Josh smiled as Tyler collapsed down onto the couch next to him. Tyler returned the smile, hoping that it was convincing enough to keep Josh off of his case. Normally Josh was his number one confidant when he started having issues on tour, but not today. Today’s issue was a lot bigger than the things they usually talked about, and he wasn’t so sure Josh would understand. Not in the way that Y/N would, at least.

“Did you see me nearly faceplant when I was getting off the platform after Morph?”

It took Tyler a second to register that Josh was talking to him.

“I must have missed that. What happened?”

“I misstepped when I was coming down and ended up landing all funny. One of the security guards ended up catching me before I totally fell onto the concrete.”

“Better than cracking your head open in the middle of a show, right?”

“Right,” Josh laughed. That was a relief to Tyler, that maybe he hadn’t caught on. “But I know it’s going to end up all over Twitter and Instagram regardless.”

“It won’t be the end of the world. There are countless dumb videos of me on the internet.”

“Yeah, I guess it won’t be.”

Tyler reached over and put a hand on Josh’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. Josh continued to look down towards his lap, but a smile slowly spread across his lips. With his free hand, Tyler reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to check it. Although he hadn’t felt it vibrate, there was always the possibility that he had missed it.

Or maybe not, as his blank lockscreen indicated.

He checked the time, quickly calculating what time it would be back home. It wasn’t terribly late, and Y/N had gotten into the habit of staying up late to hear about the end of shows, at least when the boys were still playing in the United States. The fact that they hadn’t answered his text was a bit unnerving, but he reminded himself it hadn’t been long since he sent the message in the first place.

“Want anything to drink, Tyler?” Mark asked. He was currently standing in front of the open fridge.

“Yeah, can I have a juice?”

“Sure thing.” 

Mark grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge and tossed it Tyler’s way. He caught it in one hand and unscrewed the cap, bringing it to his lips in one swift motion. Mark tossed a couple drinks to Josh and Brad before sitting back down on the couch.

Tyler slowly tuned out of the conversation. His eyes were fixated on a small patch of carpet near the wall that was stained a bright color, most likely from someone’s drink that had spilled. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence on the bus.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get himself to stop thinking about Y/N. It had been close to a month since they had last seen one another. It was one of the longest periods they had been apart since they started dating nearly eight years ago. The original plan had been to have Y/N come on tour with the band, as was typical, but a family emergency had forced them to stay at home. Things were just finally getting cleared up, but with the tour coming to a close for the holidays, it had been decided they would stay at home.

Tyler was really wishing he hadn’t agreed to that right about now.

“Tyler? You good?”

Josh’s voice pulled Tyler out of his trance. He blinked a couple times and turned to his friend with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. The show really wiped me out so I’m having trouble focusing.”

“That’s alright. Sleep might not be such a bad idea.”

“I’m waiting on a text from Y/N. They mentioned wanting to FaceTime tonight.”

“Gotcha.”

A few more minutes passed. Josh, Mark, and Brad went back to their conversation, which Tyler picked up bits and pieces of but otherwise didn’t contribute to. He continued to check his phone, hoping that he had somehow missed a text from Y/N, but each time it came up blank. Each time he sighed and stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

After a few more minutes of internal debate, Tyler decided to send a second text. Maybe Y/N had missed it the first time and he knew they would feel bad if they accidentally ignored him when he needed to talk to them. He had just started to type when a little bubble popped up on Y/N’s side of the screen, making his shoulders drop in relief.

Y/N: Sorry, I was in the shower! Give me a few minutes and then I can call you, sound good?

Tyler wasted no time in typing out a response.

Tyler: Sounds perfect

“I just heard from Y/N. I think I’m going to head back to my room and talk to them for awhile, so I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

There was a chorus of goodnights as he stood up, stretched for a moment, and then headed to the back room. He made sure the door was completely closed and locked before falling back onto the bed and getting comfortable. The little lamp on the bedside table cast a nice amount of light around the room, keeping the atmosphere peaceful, but not too dark. While he waited for Y/N, Tyler scrolled through photos that the two of them had taken the last time he was home. Though it made his heart a little heavier knowing they weren’t there with him, it also made him smile knowing more moments like those were coming.

He didn’t hesitate to hit answer call on his laptop as soon as the notification popped up. The call struggled to connect for a second, but Y/N’s smiling face eventually popped up on his screen. In an instant, it felt like all the stress of the day had melted away.

“Hi, love,” Tyler grinned.

“Hey, Ty.”

He sat quietly for a moment, just admiring their smile and the way their eyes were shining in the dim light of their bedroom back home. 

“How’s everything going over there?” they asked.

Tyler’s eyes dropped down to his lap, “They’ve been better. The distance is really starting to take a toll on me, I think. Everything feels off, I don’t really know how to describe it, but I know I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I’m out here playing music all around the world, but I get upset if I don’t have you with me? It’s dumb.”

“What you’re doing is hard, Ty. Most people aren’t away from home for months at a time, especially without their families. It’s ok to miss people you care about, even if you are living your dream.”

“I know. I just don’t want the world to see me like this, you know? Breaking down after shows and barely able to keep it together. I don’t think that they’d understand.”

Tyler buried his face in his hands and tried to take deep breaths. His eyes were already starting to brim with tears behind his fingers. He had been keeping it together all day, but now that he was talking it through with Y/N, all the emotion that he had so carefully kept bottled up was beginning to spill out.

“Tyler, love, it’s ok.” He could hear the distress in Y/N’s voice. “Do you have a blanket you can wrap around yourself? That might help.”

Tyler pulled his hands away from his face just long enough to take a look around. Sure enough, there was a blanket sitting near the foot of the bed. It was one that he had taken from home; he and Y/N always used it to snuggle up underneath when they had movie nights.

“I’ve got one,” he sniffled, pulling it up and around his shoulders. He pulled on the fabric until it was tight around his body.

“Is that helping?”

“A little.”

“Don’t beat yourself up for being stressed, ok? You have a lot on your plate with playing shows almost every night, doing interviews, planning for the next leg, and so much more. Plus, on top of that, you’re away from your support system - also known as me, your spouse - which makes things twice as hard. You’ve been going and going and going for almost a full month now, anybody in your situation would be starting to wear thin.”

“I know, I know. I just really don’t want to miss you tonight. I want you here, next to me, to wrap my arms around and fall asleep next to. Just one night with you would be enough to get me through these next few weeks.”

Tyler wiped away a few fallen tears with the back of his hand. His breathing had slowed back to near normal, though his eyes were still full of tears that had yet to slip down his cheeks.

“I wish I could be there, Ty, but-”

“No, I know, I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I don’t mean to make you feel bad. This is hard for both of us.”

“You didn’t make me feel bad, love. I would give anything to be next to you, too.”

“I’m ready to cancel the rest of this tour just so I can come home,” he mumbled.

Y/N sighed and pursed their lips. Deep down, they wished he could too, but there were people out there who needed to see Tyler just as much as they did.

“There’s only a few more weeks of shows and then you’re home for the holidays. You’re going to be home before you know it.”

“And we’ll get to decorate the house together,” Tyler said. His mouth curled up into a partial smile.

“Exactly. And we can see your family and sit by the fire together and stay out of the cold air.”

“It’s freezing here. I thought my fingers were going to go numb when I was putting the bus code in. Has it been bad at home?”

“Not too bad. Then again, the most I’ve been outside is to go to and from the car when I go places,” Y/N laughed. Just hearing their laugh made Tyler’s heart flutter. “But it’s definitely not numb fingers cold.”

“That’s good. It will get there eventually.”

“But you’ll be here to keep me warm.”

“Yeah, I will be.”

Tyler and Y/N continued to talk as they each slowly grew more tired. It took Tyler awhile to realize that he had stopped crying, his conversation with Y/N had completely distracted him. Y/N had always had a knack for distracting Tyler without him realizing, it was one of the many things he loved about them.

“I don’t think I can keep my eyes open much longer,” Tyler mumbled. His face was half-buried into his pillow. Y/N had just finished telling him a story, which he had somehow managed to hang onto every word of despite his tired state.

“Should I let you go?”

“Soon.”

“Ok, let me know when I should end the call.”

There was a brief pause in the conversation. Tyler opened his eyes just enough to get another glimpse of Y/N. They were sitting in the living room now, having just finished making cookies to bring to their family the next day. He couldn’t help a smile as he watched them flick through Netflix.

“Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Ty.”

“Thank you for always letting me vulnerable. You know exactly who I am and have never once criticized me for it and I love you for that.”

“I never want you to hide any part of yourself from me, love. That’s what loving someone is about, loving every single bit of them, perfect or not.”

Tyler’s smile grew even wider, if that was even possible.

“Man, I love you so much. I really am dating the coolest person in the world.”

“I don’t know about coolest, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. I love you too, Tyler.”

“Ok, I need to try and get some rest now. I’ll talk to you in the morning?”

“I’ll text you when I wake up.”

“Ok. Goodnight. I love you.”

“I love you too. Goodnight.”

Tyler was thankful when Y/N ended the call so that all he had to do was shut his laptop and place it on the nightstand. He was barely awake long enough to flip the light off and roll into a more comfortable position.

When he slept, he dreamt of being home with Y/N.

[dumbbellpony]

Commission Info Here!   Ko-Fi   Derpibooru DeviantArt

Short Story Under the Cut!

The evening ended, the excitement and buzz in the air had finally fizzled out. Hours of back and forth from the kitchen with cupcakes, pizza, and hayburgers, the oven caked with enough grease to supply the local Double Patty’s or at least two fast food wagons.  The music stopped, all the chairs and tables folded and put away, and the confetti was...mostly swept give or take a patch. As he tied another trash bag to sit out on the street corner ,he saw the last fading visages of a clique of fillies scampering down the path towards their own homes.

Dumbbell finally felt like it was safe to breathe a beloved sigh of relief as he leaned against the side of his house. The Cutiecenera was over.

Dumbbell sighed and closed his eyes. “Thank the Sun...”

Actually no. Damn the sun. It was freaking hot today.

“You can thank me too while you’re at it.”

Dumbbell reluctantly opened a heavy lidded eye and peered across their front lawn. Hightide’s diminutive form stood near their mailbox, a broom and dustpan clutched limply in his hands.

“Hm? What was that?” Dumbbell asked, noting his son’s exhaustion. Hightide came down the path, his hooves dragging like he was walking through a swamp, with the dust pan filled with little squares of colorful paper fated for the trash can.

“I said,” Hightide breathed tiredly “It would have been nice if mom and Cherry were here to help out.”  Dumbbell chuckled. “I can’t keep your mom away from the Roller Regionals, you know that. Your big sis neither.”

Hightide huffed and tossed the broom to the ground, about to dispose of the mound of confetti. “Yeah, but-”

“DADDY!”  There was a shriek, then a burst of strong wind and Hightide found himself consumed by a tornado of dust and party paper.

“Daddy, daddy! Swift Storm and Golden Comet are having a sleepover at their house, can I go, can I go, can I go please?” Kite Runner was doing figure eights in mid air around Dumbbell’s head. Dumbbell caught her on the next pass around, stopping the buzzing sugar filled filly instantly. “Woah now, sweet stuff,” Dumbbell shrugged and gestured to the front lawn as if to emphasize all the chaos that had just went on within its boundaries not less than an hour ago.

“We just had a party!”  

“I know!” Kite Runner swayed in her father’s grasp, upside down, her dimpled smile brimmed with happiness. “But this is the cutiecenera after party! Only my bestest friends will be there!”

Dumbbell smirked. “Is your brother invited?”

“No.”

Hightide snorted from his place on the lawn. “Didn’t wanna.” A momentary pause before Dumbbell released his youngest daughter back to the air. He pointed an authoritative finger at her. “Don’t wreck the place.” he stated. Knowing, or at least hoping he knew that she’d heed her dad’s warning.

“Yessir!” Kite saluted before she shot off like an airborne torpedo.

Dumbbell shook his head. “These kids.” Hightide was still on the lawn,  now flat on his back, covered in confetti. To Dumbbell there wasn’t too much difference between the colt and what remained of the pinata which lay tattered and abandoned, but at least the pinata was smiling. What a champ.

“Hightide.”  Dumbbell walked over when his son didn’t respond. He leaned over to look him in the eye. “What’s got you bugged, little guy.”  Hightide released a slow, low spirited breath and sat up, brushing away the confetti and picking most of it out of his mane.

“My little sister got her cutie mark three days ago.” he said.

“Yep.”

“And  I still don’t have mine.”

“True that.”

The colt’s expression slipped in somewhere between confused and dejected. “How is that possible?” Dumbbell hoisted his son back onto his feet, marveling at the new mess Kite Runner’s confetti storm had created. He’d half a mind to make her clean it herself, but a father couldn’t damper his little girl’s cutiecenera like that. He wiped his forehead and glanced at the near cloudless blue sky. Today was a scorcher, he would have to adjust  some of those clouds...

“I’m a whole year older than she is!” Hightide paced fretfully back and forth across the lawn. Dumbbell fought to not roll his eyes. Of course a single year makes all the difference.

“What did she do that I didn’t do?” Dumbbell clamped a palm on Hightide’s head to stop him. “You’re over thinking it, Tide, remember what I’ve told you? There’s no point in worrying to death over the next sunrise. It’ll come whether you’re there to see it or not.”

“I've tried everything,” Hightide bit the inside of his cheek. “Nothing’s worked.”

Dumbbell smirked. “Everything? You sure?”

“Yes, all Kite Runner had to do was...fly.” Hightide dug his heel into the dirt, frustrated seemingly by everything.

“Flew straight into a thunderstorm when her classroom’s pet bird got out of its cage , nearly killing me and your ma with a panic attack. And then she came back down as if nothing was wrong with the bird on her back...carrying a bolt of lightning in her teeth. You know, to be specific.” Dumbbell paused, recalling the event with bemused wonderment. “You three get all your weirdness from your mother’s side.”

Hightide bit his cheek again, moments away from muttering something about how he could have at least gotten wings in the weirdness package, but not wanting to have another argument over that again. Despite this, Dumbbell still sensed that something was wrong as he watched his son gaze longingly at the sky. A  smile crept onto his face. As a certain familiar phrase entered his mind.

‘Like the ocean needs the moon to take the tides away’

“All you need's a little time to chase the blues away.” When he heard this, Hightide jumped, knocked out of his melancholy as recognition dawned on him. “Pops?”

“How about this,” Dumbbell clapped a hand on Hightide’s small shoulder, business like. “I have a client tomorrow but it’s only half day.” Hightide’s ears flicked with interest. “Uh huh?”

"Surf season started yesturday." Dumbbell winked. “When I get back, what do ya say we hit the beach, ey?” Hightide’s stunned expression broke into a full grin as he sprung into his dad’s arms like a grasshopper.

“Seriously, pops?” Hightide could barely keep himself from squealing.

“Of course I’m serious!” Dumbbell laughed deeply as Hightide wriggled in his arms, trying to deflect the oncoming and inevitable noogie of doom. “I can’t keep a fish like you out of the brine for too long. You’ll start flaking!”

[the-softest-fics]

I'll Always Love You

Title: I’ll Always Love You

Pairing(s): Anti x Reader

Request: Anti x reader where anti comforts the reader about her family not accepting her, and its all fluffy and stuff (request)

Warning(s): Just that whole generalization of “you’re just confused” or “there’s no such thing” since to some people I know pansexuals are unicorns or figments of our imagination. With that some very mild parental abuse.

Summary: The readers parents have decided that their daughter being pansexual isn’t something they agree with. So she decides to leave instead of endure their often hurtful comments and treatment.

A/N: I hope this is sorta kinda what you wanted anon! Enjoy :p

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started about a month ago. You had begun questioning your sexuality, and eventually settling on the idea that you were pansexual. It made a lot of sense really, knowing where you fit did make you feel better though. You were getting comfy and cozy with the idea, soon deciding to tell close friends. The first person you came out to was your closest friend (and secret love interest) Anti.

Of course he was accepting! He wasn’t really human, but he was there for your in every decision you could think of. He supports you through every rough patch and cheers you up when your down. So when you proposed the idea of coming out to your parents he was with you all the way, cheering you on from the sidelines.

You went out and bought a “hearts not parts” pansexual flag, hanging it above the couch in your living room. Setting out very cute pink, yellow, and blue decorations. You even went so far as to put on a t-shirt with a pansexual symbol on it. You waited till both of them had gotten off work, popping a confetti popper as they walked through the door. You shout, “Guess what?? I’m Pan!”

You watch as your mother’s face contorts into a very confused state and your father’s into scowl. You swallow nervously before speaking once more, “Mom, Dad. I want to love someone for what’s in their heart… not what’s between their legs. Love is love, this is what I believe in. This is me.” You can see the anger in your fathers face, you feel it when he looks at you and the decorations you set up. Your mother looks almost disgusted with your words.

“This had best be a sick joke Y/N.” he says angrily. You look at him with a face almost set in stone, shaking your head no and flaring your nostrils slightly. He grabs you by the wrist, you grit your teeth as he drags you to your room throwing you inside and against the frame of your bed. You hiss as the sturdy wood makes contact with your hip.

“You can come out when you stop making things up! There’s no such thing! Get your head straight or I’ll take you to see some kinda specialist to straighten out whatever problem you’ve got stuck in your head!” He slams the door shut, spouting a string of profanities that are muffled by the wood of the door. Your knees are so shaky from adrenaline and fear they give way, you sink to the floor. You give into the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, curling into a ball and hugging your knees close to your chest. You stay that way for hours until you realize it would be easier to just leave than to see what waits in the next morning.

You muster all of the courage you have as you throw clothes into a backpack. You grab all of the money from its hiding place in your desk drawer. The money was originally there as spending money for your family’s next out of state trip, but that seems to be called off for now. You slide the window open, raising a foot to kick the screen free. It falls onto the ground and you climb out. Being sure to toss a spiteful note behind you as you walk away into the brisk night, pulling the hood of your jacket onto your head.

As the distance between you and your house grows from feet, to meters, to blocks and so on, you find it hard to keep walking, feeling so withered and warn down. You eventually stop at a wooden bench beneath a street light. You pull out your phone and call someone you knew would understand, Anti. He answers with a sleep-heavy voice, “h-hello?”

“Anti… i-it’s me Y/N. I-I really need your help.” You start to cry, tears rolling over your cheeks and down to your chin.

“Where are you? I’m coming to get you right now.” He says

“T-the corner of f-first street.” You answer shakily

“Wait there for me, love” *click* he hangs up without warning.

He’s never called you “love” before. You wonder for a while if he means it or if he was just all turned around. You find comfort in it, but you find even more knowing he’s coming to get you.

The drive is silent, but he makes you slide beside him in the bench seat of his truck, having you lean your head on his shoulder with his arm around you. He holds you close as you drive back to his apartment. Eventually carrying your sleeping figure up the stairs and to his bedroom.

When you wake up his arms are snaked around your waist and he’s holding you protectively against his chest. “Why’d you leave home?” He asks into the still air. He must’ve been awake long before you were. You sit up, breaking his hold on you. You tuck your knees back up toward your chest, letting your face fall between them. A shiver goes down your spine just thinking about how it went last night. “Well, I tried to come out to my parents last night. The key word being tried.” You laugh nervously before raising your face to look at him. His eyes as sad and understanding as he scoots beside you and takes you into his arms. You hold tightly onto him and begin to allow incoherent sentences about what had happened spill forth from your lips. He pulls you back by the shoulders so he can look you in the eyes, “Y/N, I love you. I love you for who you are and always will. No matter what.” Your face heats up at his words, he loves you.

“Anti, I-” he cuts you off with a chaste kiss and gentle hands on the sides of your face. You smile as you both pull away, kissing his cheek and saying “I love you too.” He grabs your hand, running his thumb across the back. He looks at you very seriously before he looks down. “I never told you that I was actually bi,"He sighs "I thought you’d reject me or somethin’.”

“Never.” You say with a warm smile. You tilt his face toward you and kiss him once more, melting into it and falling even more in love with him.

You and Anti soon begin dating, it’s the two of you against the world. You love each other more than words, he loves you more than his own life. You do return to your home the next week or so, to collect all of your things. Anti comes with just to make sure your father doesn’t try anything funny with you. You move in with Anti, you finally feel safe and loved. Hell, you feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have him by your side and in your heart.

[jashasedai]

Glitter Party

So I wrote a fluffy story.

It’s in the Tame Racing Driver AU

Racing Drivers and their human doubles Xerxes- Alexander Rossi Trace- Jules Bianchi Freeza- Max Chilton Alisar- Esteban G Sunshine- Sebastian Rabbit- Mark Alondra- Fernando Sugarboy- Jenson Prince(female)- Nico Snap- Lewis Jaamies- Kimi

Glitter Party

The Grand Tour-

[I brought you something.] Xerxes gestured, around an armful of box.  Of the other members of the Grand Tour, only Trace could understand him.

[What is it?] he asked.

[Where did you get it?] Freeza asked.

[We're going to have a party.  This box has everything we need.]

Trace opened it.  It was a shipping box, about half a meter to a side.  It was full of plastic bags with different kinds of glitter.  Shapes, big metal flakes, sparkle dust- all in Red.  "Ohhh," he breathed.

[Cool!] Alisar reached out and took a bag of sparkle dust.  He smiled up at Guardian. [Best party ever.]

The rest of the Racing Drivers dug into the box.

Glitter party.

Sebastian-

Mark could say what he liked, he was wrong.  He was always wrong, anyway, he should be used to it.  Glitter party was absolutely the best way to celebrate a win or a finish with your Racing Driver.  He had the money to spend to make Sunshine happy, to reward him for his performance.  So he brought the 200$ Auld Lang Syne pack from the party supply store.  17 different kinds of glitter.  Including a 6 oz package of balloon shaped jumbo confetti glitter.  The balloons were about a centimeter long, cut out of the same shiny metallic stuff most of the glitter flakes were made of, and the balloons had curly tails.  Perfect.  He always made double sure to buy the pack with red glitter, Sunshine's favorite color.  His, too, Ferrari red.  He smiled when he thought of Ferrari.  Maybe Kimi and Jaamies would want to come to their glitter party.

He opened the door to the storage space and stared at the empty space on the shelf.  No.  The box should be right here.  The company delivered them to every track on race weekends.  To the Redbull motorhome.  The staff knew to put it right here on the shelf.

'What's wrong, Sebastian?' Sunshine chirped, reacting to his alarm. 'Don't worry, we'll figure it out.'

He couldn't tell Sunshine their glitter party was off.  He had been winning this year, he would be too disappointed, if there was no glitter party to look forward to.  He loved delving his hands into the 16oz bag of 'standard metalflake' and mushing it, pulling out his hands looking like a 1980's version of the ruby slippers.  There was no box of glitter, though, it wasn't as though Sebastian could just call and order another one, the company would have to send it special delivery, to have it here in time for the end of tomorrow's race.

Why couldn't he?  His bank account wouldn't even notice the drain.  Even with special delivery fees.

He picked up his cell and started dialing.  While he was at it, he would order a case of white glitter for Jaamies.

As a matter of fact...

Mark-

He wasn't on the platform, so he went back to the Redbull stall with Rabbit.  They'd been milling around the room for several minutes, going over the race and cooling down, when he noticed the boxes.  They were sitting under the massage table.  There was a piece of Redbull stationary taped to one.  

I hope you had a good race.  Enjoy.

P.S. You can probably guess who the other box is for.

This was Sebastian's handwriting.

He looked at the box.

[What does it tell you?] Rabbit gestured.

The shipping label said 'Limited Slip Glitter Co. ALS Pack Colour- Navy' [It doesn't tell me anything.]  He opened the box.  It was full of bags of glitter.

[WOW!] Rabbit waved hugely.  He grabbed a bag of balloon shaped glitter off the top.  [Thanks, Mark!]

[It's one of Sebastian's glitter parties...He sent you glitter.]  This was pretty incredible.  He usually only got Sunshine one box.

Then Mark noticed the label on the other box was a little different. 'Limited Slip Glitter Co. ALS Pack Colour- Turquoise'  He opened the other box, just enough to confirm his suspicion.  It was filled with glitter, bright blue glitter.

[Can we play with it?]  Rabbit examined the tiny shapes through the clear plastic bag they were in.

[Yeah, just, call Alondra and ask him if he wants to come over, first.]  He tilted the box so Rabbit could see that it was filled with his best friend's colour.

[WOW!  Sebastian is so great.  I love him.]

If Mark had known all it would take was...400$ worth of glitter, he'd have solved this rivalry long ago.

Toro Rosso

When Jean-Eric first opened the blox and saw the green glitter, he thought it was a joke, or a threat or...but the Dans had each received a box as well, and he had determined that neither of THEIR Racing Drivers had awoken Saturday sticky with glitter.  Subtle questioning of Jev had convinced Jean-Eric that he had been sprung by the Grand Tour stallions again.  A tiny fleck of red on Max Chilton's cheek Saturday morning confirmed that it had been a Grand Tour exploit.  It made him feel both proud and worried the way the Grand Tour sought to include Jev.  He shared a bloodline with Trace, so he supposed it made sense that they extended that care to him.

Now, though there were these boxes of glitter.  For a glitter party.  Daniel said the handwriting on the note was Sebastian's, and Jean-Eric had to laugh, because he couldn't think of another person who would consider an immense amount of sparkles to be an appropriate base for a party.  The 3 men and 3 Racing Drivers, and 3 boxes of glitter, two green and one navy, made for one hell of a fun time.  And one hell of a mess.

Blue and Gold

"So come on over."  Jensen tossed the bag of turquoise glitter with the hand not holding his phone and caught it again.  "Yeah.  My teammate went to have his glitter party with yours, so we'll just swap.  I've got a great bottle of scotch I'm not supposed to admit to having."

Sugarboy sprinkled glitter in Jensen's hair.

"Well, carry the box with you.  There's two of you.  Blue and Gold.  We'll look like a secondary school graduation.  Oh, and Esteban...do you have any glue?"

Mercedes

Greys are organized, someone had once told Lewis.  He believed it, now.  With no prompting whatsoever, the two Racing Drivers had set up a table, cups full of glitter and established rules about not getting glitter in the glue pot.  Now the four of them were sitting around the folding card table, playing glitter.

[Please pass the glue,] Prince gestured, smiling at him with her beautiful smile.

[Here you are, Princess,] Lewis gestured fondly.  He handed her the pot.

She gently tapped the strip of paper she'd applied the glue to into the bowl of glitter, creating a nice, even layer.  Both their boxes contained silver glitter.  She added a dot of glue to one end of the strip and pressed it into a circle around the hat band of the fedora.

Snap was fidding with the paper beads he was making by rolling strips of paper into various tube shapes and gluing them in place.  He was coating them neatly with glitter and stringing them one by one.

[I need more glitter,] Nico gestured, looking under the table.  [Is there any sparkle dust left?]

[There is some in our box,] Lewis told him.  [Help yourself.]

Nico poured another dose of silver dust into his plate and resumed rolling his replica World Drivers Championship trophy in it.

Lewis felt jealous that Nico's WDC trophy looked more realistic than his.  He painted on another layer of glue.

[Your trophy if fancier than mine,] Nico told him, without looking up.  [Mine looks so plain.]

[I made it for you,] Lewis said, suddenly.  Prince put her hat down and looked at him.  Snap ignored him and kept fiddling with his paper beads.

Nico looked shocked.

[Great minds think alike,] Prince gestured.  [Here my love.]  She held the hat in both hands, over the table towards Snap.

Nico reached out reverently and accepted the lovely trophy Lewis had constructed out of poster paper.

Snap put his hat on.  [Look how stylish I look!]  He went back to adding paper beads to his chain.

Prince turned and smiled at Nico beside her, clutching his trophy.

[I made this one for you, actually,] he nodded his head towards to the trophy he'd discarded on the table when Lewis handed him his gift.

Lewis picked it up and tried to look less impressed than he was.  It was so perfect.

[Alright,]  Snap looked up from his paper beads.  He stood and went around the table.  He stood behind Prince, stooped, and gently clipped the chain necklace with it's paper beads glittering like silver diamonds around her neck.  He kissed behind her ear.  [You are more beautiful than any trophy, darling.]  The two nuzzled.

Lewis smiled down at his trophy.  Adorable.

Kimi and Jaamies

They had to go to Sunshine's stall separately.  They were too easily spotted if they were together.  Jaamies had gone a few minutes before.  Kimi walked in and 3 eager faces were smiling at him.  "Ha?"  Jaamies and Sunshine were standing shoulder to shoulder, leaning against the massage table and Sebastian was crouched over two open boxes.

"Welcome to the Glitter Party!" Sebastian handed him a bag of white metal flakes.  It was about the size of a shoebox.

Kimi looked at Sunshine, whose hands were red coated to the wrist, and Jaamies' clothes had smears of sparkles all over them.  There was a patch of glitter on his neck and up into his hair.  Sunshine waved at him.  Like a disco ball.

He squeezed the bag of flakes.  This is what...

Sebastian flung a handful of red glitter into the air.  It rained around them like snow in the night.  Kimi tried to duck away before it got in his hair.  He'd had a girlfriend who was into the body glitter fad, it took forever to get rid of the stuff.

Sunshine and Jaamies laughed in delight, took handsful of the stuff and followed Seb's example.

"Who will clean this?!" Kimi demanded.

"I pay the cleaning lady an extra 500$."  Sebastian shouted, as Sunshine turned on the stereo and a booming beat started.  "She says she's cleaned worse."

Kimi rolled his eyes.  Jaamies was sprinkling white glitter over a red circle on the floor, creating the M pattern that was on their helmet.  He leaned over and looked in the box and let out a surprised little rev.  He pulled out a bag and tossed it to Kimi.

It was tiny balloon shaped glitter.  Hey, he never knew glitter came in shapes. That was actually pretty cool.

Kimi smiled.