#their music initially got me through my first long road trip like I was driving alone for three days and ONLY had them playing and that’s

[drabbles-mc]

Road-Trippin’

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Combining 2 Anonymous requests: Basically it’s a best friends to lovers juice idea where he and his BFF go on a long car drive / road trip and listen to vibey music (examples: can I call you tonight? - day glow, the adults are talking - the strokes, undercover martyn - two door cinema club, tongue tied - group love, etc) and they basically just confess while driving and it’s so cute and If ur taking requests a juice friends to lovers would be super cute!

Warnings: language, fluff sweet enough to give you cavities

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Juice just deserves the happiest, softest love. He deserves a best friends to lovers storyline. Ugh I love this dorky man.

SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines​ @espieviolet99​ @mijop​ @chibsytelford​ @thanossexual​ @xladymacbethx​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @garbinge​ @lilah1903​ @bport76​ @toni9​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @punkgoddess-98​ @paintballkid711​ @black-repunzel99​ @lexondeck​ @jitterbugs927​ @mrsstevenbuchananstark​ @mijagif​ @frattsparty​ @winchestershiresauce​ @bellisperennis0​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @mveggieburger​ @xeniarocks​ @littlekittymeow​ @beardsanddetectives​ @juicyortiz​ @bruxasolta​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ @be-my-dear​ @flacalatke​ @withmyteeth​ @passionatewrites​ (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, let me know!)

Juice was just starting to pour his first cup of coffee for the morning when his phone started vibrating against the countertop. Looking down, the initial anxiety he’d had faded away when he saw it was your name flashing across the screen.

He smiled as he accepted the call, pinning the phone between his ear and shoulder as he got back to making his coffee, “Hey.”

“Juice!” the smile was audible in your voice.

He never considered you a morning person, so he wondered what had you so bright and cheery so early in the day, “What’s up, Y/N?”

“I am playing hooky today, and you should too.”

He laughed, “Playing hooky?”

“Yea! C’mon, it’ll be fun. I feel like I haven’t seen you in five million years.”

He chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee, “You saw me two days ago, you know.”

“Yea, like I said,” you laughed, “five million years. C’mon we could go for a road trip. Long weekend!”

“Does that mean you’re driving?” he had no interest in turning down the idea of getting out of town with you for the day, or a few days like you were making it sound like. Whatever time he could get with you, he would take.

You laughed, but your heart fluttered at the fact that he didn’t turn down the idea right out the gate, “We could take turns if you want.”

“That sounds like a nice way of saying you’re going to be driving,” he chuckled.

“I’ll let you drive the whole way if it means I’m getting you to blow off everything for a couple days and cruise with me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” you couldn’t hide the surprise in your voice—you definitely thought it was going to take a little more convincing than that.

“Yea, okay. I’ll pack a bag.”

“Holy shit,” you laughed, “Okay. M-me too. I’ll be over in a bit.”

When you hung up the phone you were still stunned that he had really agreed. A day trip? Sure, you figured it’d be easy enough to cajole him into that. But a bag-packing, long weekend getaway on a whim? You weren’t expecting to be that successful. You weren’t going to complain, though. You quickly starting pulling together clothes to get you through the next few days. Grabbing a handful of t-shirts and tank tops, you threw them into your duffle bag with a pair of jeans and a pair of shorts, along with your pajamas, which was really just another old t-shirt and pair of shorts. Stuffing a hoodie into the bag as well, you figured there really wasn’t much more that you needed. You left the bag open, tossing in little essentials to get you through the next couple of days, not really sure what the plan was going to end up being.

Juice was at his house going through the same motions. The last thing that he had wanted to do was call the club and say that he was going to be MIA for a few days, but he’d already said yes to you. The thought of disappointing you was worse to him than pissing the guys off for a few days, which was telling. He’d called Jax, figuring that maybe the VP would be a little more forgiving than the other officers in the club. And he was right.

“What’s eatin’ up all your time this weekend, then, Juice?” Jax was the only person on the planet who could talk and could make someone hear the smug little smirk on his face.

“Um,” Juice was caught between telling the truth, or trying to come up with something that sounded a little higher-stakes so that maybe there wouldn’t be any follow-up questions. But he’d never been a good liar, “Y/N called and—”

“Oh shit,” Jax laughed, “Big weekend plans with your girl?”

Juice sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he wished that he’d come up with literally anything else to tell Jax, “It’s not like that. She just—”

Hell would freeze over before Jax let the poor boy finish a sentence, “You got a whole weekend to change that now. Go get your girl, Juice. Don’t come back without results,” his laughter was good-natured.

Juice wanted to gear up with a response, but Jax hung up the phone before he could. Either way, he successfully untangled himself from the club for the next few days. Whatever jokes and remarks were waiting for him when he came home, he would deal with then. All that mattered for the time being, though, was packing and being ready before you showed up at his door.

He heard the sound of your car door shutting only seconds before you opened the front door of his house. You came all but crashing into his living room, an iced coffee in each hand and a smile on your face. Juice was fairly certain that as long as his heart didn’t burst inside his chest at some point over the next couple days, it was going to be the best weekend of his life.

“You ready?” you walked over, handing him his coffee before hugging him.

He tried not to let himself linger in your embrace too long. Pulling back, he flashed you a smile, “Ready.”

“Great!” you pulled your keys out of your pocket and tossed them to him, “Let’s go!”

He barely caught the keys in time, fumbling to keep them from hitting the floor. He couldn’t help his laughter as he watched you grab the smaller of his two bags and headed back towards his door to leave. Shaking his head, he slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and made his way after you. He lingered by the door for a moment, eyeing his kutte that was draped off to the side. Shaking his head at himself, he stepped out in just his plain white t-shirt and jeans and locked the door, knowing that that wasn’t part of his life for the next few days.

“Road trip,” the sing-songy sound of your voice filled the air as you tossed Juice’s small drawstring back into your back seat.

Turning the key in the ignition, Juice put the car in reverse. He turned to look behind him, arm reaching so his hand was behind the headrest of your seat. You watched him, more enthralled by the mundane action than you should’ve been. It took real effort to pry your eyes off of him when he brought his hand back to the steering wheel again, and you just hoped that he didn’t notice.

“So,” he spared a glance over at you as he drove, “where are we going?”

Your eyes widened, laughing as you shrugged, “I don’t know. You tell me—you’re the one who’s driving!”

He laughed, “I just figured you had a plan.”

You shook your head, sipping on your coffee, “I didn’t plan much past calling you and roping you into this.”

He let out a soft hum of approval, smiling at the sentiment of that. There was something reassuring about the fact that the two of you being together was enough of a plan for you. It was for him, too, but he didn’t know how to say that.

“Alright then,” he slowed to a stop at one of the only stoplights in the small town of Charming, “North or South?”

You beamed, “South. Always towards warmer weather, Juan Carlos, come on now.”

He chuckled, nodding as the light turned green, “Right. Guess I should’ve known that one, huh?”

A few minutes of silence passed between you as the two of you made your way out of town. Once the car hit the highway, though, you grabbed your phone and started to hook it up to the car radio. Juice’s eyes flicked off the road as he watched you, a smile still etched into his expression.

“You can use my phone, if you want,” he offered as he reached for his drink.

“Oh, no way,” you shook your head with a laugh, “You’re driving, I’m playing DJ. That’s the division of labor here today.”

He laughed, holding his hands up in faux surrender for a second, “Sorry, sorry. Forgot the road trip rules, apparently.”

“Mmm that’s what happens when all your long trips happen with a bunch of dudes on motorcycles,” your tone was light-hearted as you scrolled through your playlist.

He shook his head at you but didn’t say anything more as he eased back in the driver’s seat, relaxing a little more now that the two of you were on an open, straight stretch of highway. It was a different kind of relaxing to be cruising inside of a car to begin with, but to be driving with no real destination in mind with you sitting shotgun was something else entirely. He kept his eyes on the road for the most part, but he couldn’t help stealing glances over at you as you kicked your feet up onto the dashboard, flipping your sunglasses down over your eyes.

You were taking sips of your coffee between songs, usually just to refill for your next round of road trip karaoke. Juice couldn’t help but to be impressed by the sheer number of songs that you had memorized. Not only that, but it wasn’t until all of this, that he realized that he had never heard you sing before. All the time that you two spent together over the last few years, and the other trips (although they were shorter with a much realer direction in mind) that you’d taken together, it was the first time he'd really heard you sing.

“You can make requests to the DJ if you want,” you said with a chuckle as you rested your head back against the seat, “But I do reserve the right to deny them.”

He laughed, “Alright, let me think about it then. That’s a lot of pressure.”

You smiled, looking over at him as he drove. It was a sight that you could get used to, him in the driver’s seat of your car with one hand on the wheel, one resting on the edge of the open window. He’d put his sunglasses on too, but from the angle you were watching him from, you could still get a decent glimpse of the real expression on his face. He had never been good at hiding from you anyway.

“Okay, I think I got one,” he nodded, a soft smile on his face.

You listened as he rattled off the song and artist to you, not recognizing either of them. You didn’t know what to expect, but you let it play regardless, and you were surprised at the light melody that started playing from your speakers.

“Wow,” you chuckled, unable to hide that you were a little impressed, “this wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“No?” he laughed, feeling his face start to get warm.

“I was expecting something a little more,” you gestured vaguely with your hand that wasn’t holding your phone, “Wu-Tang.”

He couldn’t stop his laughter, “I listen to other stuff too, you know.”

“Apparently so,” you smiled, letting quiet fill the space between you again as you listened to the lyrics of the song he’d chosen.

The two of you started to go back and forth like that—after every couple of songs you chose, Juice would tell you the name of one to play. What started off as a fun way to pass the time slowly started to feel like something that meant just a little bit more than that. The more you listened to the words, the more butterflies appeared in your stomach. And, judging by the tiny, cute smile curling Juice’s lips as he listened to your music, he was feeling the same tension starting to build.

It wasn’t awkward, though, when it easily could’ve been. You were determined to get Juice actually singing before the first leg of the trip was over, but for now you were willing to happily settle for his passionate lip-syncing and steering wheel drumming. It was the most that you’d seen him smile in a long time. You wished that you had decided to do this sooner.

“Can I ask you something?” you looked over at him, lifting your sunglasses so that they rested on top of your head.

He shrugged, nodding, “Sure.”

“What’d you tell the guys? Like…did you tell them that you were going on a road trip with me?” the last two words came out quieter than you meant for them to.

“Oh, uh,” he chuckled nervously, “I just called Jax. He…he was cool with it.”

“Really?” you cocked an eyebrow. You and Jax got along fine, but you were surprised that he was alright with Juice blowing the club off for a whole weekend last-minute.

“Yea,” he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to figure out just how honest he was going to be with you, “I just, um, I just called and said I wasn’t gonna be around. I told him you called and he didn’t even let me finish explaining,” his entire face felt like it was on fire.

“Oh really?” you laughed, “What, he think I’m a good influence on you or something?”

His laughter had a hint of nerves to it, “Something like that, yea.”

Just because he kept his eyes glued to the road didn’t mean that you couldn’t still see the look on his face. You could tell that he was holding something back, and you wondered if he could tell the same thing with you.

“You good?” you asked, reaching over and resting your hand on his shoulder.

He swallowed hard, trying not to let the contact distract him from his driving, “Yea, I’m good,” he chanced a look over at you, “You?”

You didn’t even have to give him a verbal answer for him to know—the smile and the starry look in your eyes said it all. It was hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that you were really looking at him like that. Mustering up every last bit of courage that he had, he reached over and rested his hand on your leg just above your knee. His palm was calloused from years of hard work, but his touch was still soft. You let out a hum of approval as you let your head rest back again, eyes starting to drift shut as you focused on the heat bleeding from his hand into your leg.

“Oh,” he spoke up, tapping your leg lightly after a few minutes of silence, “I got another request.”

You chuckled, opening your eyes as you grabbed your phone, ready to type in whatever song he told you next. You felt like you had learned more about him in the last couple of hours than you had in a long time. You knew that Juice had a softness to him, but this felt different, it felt special.

“You know,” you said as you dropped your hand on top of his, “you can be a real sap, Juan Carlos.”

He laughed, looking over at you, “A sap?”

You beamed, looking over at him as you nodded, “Yea. With all your little love songs. It’s…it’s cute. I like it. Sappy looks good on you.”

He was caught between wanting to kiss you and wanting to melt into the driver’s seat. Neither of those were viable options since he was currently whipping down the highway. “You think so?” he couldn’t stop his nervous laughter.

“I do,” you paused, interlocking your fingers with his, “I’m glad you’re here, glad we’re doing this.”

He reveled in the light squeeze you gave his hand, “Me too.”

“You know the worst part about this, though?”

His heart dropped into his stomach at your words. He chanced a look over at you, “What?”

“Usually this would be the perfect time to kiss you, you know, with the background music and all, but I can’t or you’ll crash the car.”

It was the most wholesome laugh that you’d ever heard as he shook his head at the bluntness of your statement. He tightened his hold on your hand, lifting it so he could press a kiss to your knuckles, “I’ve been thinking that for the last forty-five minutes at least and I’ve been losing my mind.”

You were laughing now, too, “Next pull-off?”

“Oh,” he nodded, “For sure.”

You laughed, soaking up the feeling of his thumb tracing repeatedly over your knuckles, “It’s gonna be a good long weekend, Juice.”

Looking over at you again, it was impossible not to mirror the satisfied grin on your face, “Yea, I think it is.”

[bluesora]

when you go for a drive with them

bokuto kōtarō & akaashi keiji ; kuroo tetsurō & kozume kenma ; hanamaki takahiro & matsukawa issei

fluff ; headcanon ; platonic relationship ; age up!!

note: just me channeling my wants into fics because what are friends when i only have imaginary ones ha ha ha im kidding. please enjoy !!

bokuto kōtarō & akaashi keiji

it was unplanned. impromptu. and most definitely bokuto’s idea.

he tried to call you but upon seeing his name flash across your screen at 4am, you declined it.

only on the fifth try did you see that it was akaashi and picked it up immediately. he rarely calls, so you thought it might actually be something urgent this time.

“so...remind me why am i awake at at this ungodly hour again?”

“we’re going to watch the sunrise together!!!” bokuto grinned through the rear mirror.

“and i agreed because...?”

“you get free breakfast from us.” akaashi answered as a matter of fact.

which doesn’t sound so bad now that you guys haven’t had the time to chill together as often anymore.

with paper bags of burgers and drinks beside you, bokuto drove up to the hill closest to fukurodani high where many fond memories reside.

being squeezed in the middle of the two on the trunk, you wondered how time had passed so quickly.

“remember how we used to race up this hill and i always win?”

“it’s not a race if you’re the only one running bokuto-san.”

“and you are still calling kou so formally?”

“i guess old habits die hard.”

only when the sky dyed in shades of orange and yellow did the sound of chattering drizzled down.

while bokuto and akaashi was watching the miraculous moment of the sun waking the world up, you realized how much you missed the times you’ve spent with these two.

“we should do this again...”

“we totally should!! but you don’t pick up my calls y/n!!” bokuto sulked.

with that, only the sound of you and akaashi’s laughter filled the tranquility of this precious moment.

kuroo tetsurō & kozume kenma

kuroo invited you over to kenma’s house for some drinks and catching up. that was what you initially thought.

until you found yourself shoved into his car with kenma lying on the back seat playing his game.

“i could actually sue you for kidnapping you know?”

“it’s not kidnapping if it’s a road trip, right kenma?”

“don’t make me your accomplice when i’m a victim too.”

it’s been a while since you took a long break from work so getting some fresh air out of the city was just what you need as well.

of course, knowing them, they probably planned it beforehand since kuroo isn’t one with much free time in the first place.

and for the first time in a while you decided might as well do what you want.

connecting your phone to the car’s bluetooth system, you went through your nostalgic high school playlist while bringing the window down.

“oh this song! you’d always play whenever we had to clean up the gym.”

“if it gets people moving, it’ll be on the playlist.”

“yamamoto crack his voice once when he tried to impress you with his singing.”

you laughed wholeheartedly, remembering the scene kenma reminded you of. it was so hilarious but adorable at the same time. even kenma chuckled softly from the back.

as the excitement died down, only the music from the speakers filled the comfortable silence as you admire the scenery under the sunny afternoon sun.

“thank you for your kind invitation tetsu, i guess i am in need of a break.”

“awww you don’t have to cry y/n~”

“argh i’m not!”

hanamaki takahiro & matsukawa issei

“did you get everything? snacks? drinks? what else do we need?”

“yeah yeah i got it all. your favorite strawberry pocky too.” matsukawa dropped the bag of stuff onto your lap as he climbed back to the driver’s seat.

“what about my condoms?” hanamaki joked, only to get smacked on the back of his head from you.

“tell me why am i friends with you two again?”

“because we are the better duo—”

“because you’re afraid of oikawa and iwaizumi is always with him” matsukawa just had to remind you of that frightful day huh.

putting on your seatbelt, you sighed into your seat with a frown. it wasn’t anything drastic but you’ve always been pretty antisocial and somehow being with oikawa kind of drained your energy a lot more than you think.

“you make it sound like you guys are the second option.”

“of course not y/n, we will never forget the day you rejected him but said okay to me and mattsun when we asked immediately after.”

hanamaki laughed while matsukawa chuckled at the familiar memory. it did quite a big blow to oikawa to be honest.

after a few more minutes of bringing up embarrassing past events, you can see the ocean coming into view as the car exits the tunnel.

rolling down the window, you can almost smell the saltiness of the ocean as strong wind blew your hair back freely.

“i call dips on throwing y/n first!”

“hiro, don’t you dare!” you practically glared at the smirking male.

“why call dips when you can grab her arms while i grab her legs?”

you groaned in annoyance but only to feel your lips breaking into a huge grin because you just know how much fun you’ll have when you’re with them.

“oh did i mention i’m actually on my period right now?”

“that’s why i got you tampons, don’t worry and just have fun.” matsukawa grinned with lazy ass look he always have when he know you can’t say anything back.

“seriously why are we friends?”

[slasherhaven]

Lost and Found (Jason Voorhees Oneshot)

Word Count: 3578

Jason had heard the cars driving along the otherwise silent dirt road, a irritating sound out here. It disturbed the peace but it was a good warning, letting Jason know that he had to be ready, and so he was.

Grabbing your bag, you slung it over your shoulder and shut the car door. How you let your friends convince you to come on this trip with them, you had no idea. You knew what the trip would entail and you didn't like the sound of it, it was an excuse to get away and just...do whatever they wanted. You weren't a huge fan of that idea.

Admittedly, you were the more tame member of your friend group. Always feeling a little out of place among them but you had been friends for so long, they probably felt obligated to invite you, just like you felt obligated to accept.

But anyway, here you were, ready for your stay at Camp Crystal Lake even if it had been abandoned for years now. Who picked this location again?

Jason watched the group of friends leaving the cars before hiking up to the camp, putting them far enough away from their only manner of escape to put them in danger. Nothing new there. He counted the number of people, five, easily manageable. Four seemed to be partnered up, two carrying a heavy bag between them both, and the other two giggling between themselves. But there was one more, trailing behind them, seeming more...hesitant to even be here. They had it right.

It was late afternoon, not even dark yet, by the time you and your friends had everything set up. The fire was going, the music was playing, the cabins where set up. Now you could all sit and enjoy yourselves, your friends certainly were.

They were laughing and drinking, you smiled along with the joke but didn't accept any drinks they passed your way. You never had been a drinker, you didn't like what it did to people. Anyway, you knew how to enjoy yourself without it, even if your friends thought other wise.

Two of your friends had snuck off back to one of the cabins, giggling with each other. It was too late to stop them when you realised they were heading into the cabin you were meant to be sharing...well, you weren't getting an early night, you couldn't help but sigh to yourself.

From the trees, Jason continued to watch. He would wait until dark before moving into the camp, strike when they were least prepared. But for now he watched, he wanted to get a feel for who these people were, who deserved what was coming to them and, well, who didn't.

Of course, sneaking off to that cabin had pretty much sealed that couple's fate. Now, he watched the three people sat at the fire. Two drinking, another one quite content with a soda. They all seemed to be getting along just fine, perhaps overlooking the quieter one but that was probably the alcohol.

Well, it all seemed to be going fine until one of the two drinking snapped at you, making you jump a little in surprise and confusion. It all seemed to escalate so quickly, them making some comments about you been a bore or some sort of prude, telling you to just let loose and have some fun, you telling them that you were having a good time up until now. Then they just got...meaner. Scoffing at you and laughing between themselves.

"You know what? I don't even know why I came, you're right, this isn't my kind of thing. But I wasn't complaining, I don't know why you're so mad about it" you frowned, standing from your seat.

"You didn't have to come" your friend, who you had considered to be your best friend since childhood, scoffed.

"If you didn't want me to come, you shouldn't have invited me" you shot back.

"Oh so then you could get mad at me for forgetting about you?" she rolled her eyes, her boyfriend placing a hand on her knee as if to calm her down.

"I wouldn't, though...when have I ever gotten mad at you for not inviting me to something?" you asked, it wasn't like this would be the first time.

"You could always leave" she shrugged. The boy next to her just looking uncomfortable.

"You drove me here" you reminded her with a look of disbelief. "I'm going to take a walk" you mumbled before turning on your heel and walking away.

All you heard from your two so called friends was "let her go" before you were heading away from the camp completely.

You let out a breath as you walked through the trees. You had never been to the area before so you didn't know it at all, but if you just walked in a straight line you would be able to find your way back, right?

God, what were you even doing here?

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even notice it was getting dark until you could barely see past the trees. The forest looked so different in the dark...bigger, denser, scarier. You turned and started heading back the way you came but soon realised that you were getting no closer to the camp...you must have gotten turned around...and now you were lost.

You froze when you heard movement from somewhere among the trees, suddenly reminded that you might not be alone. Where there animals out here? Surely not, there used to be a summer camp here, but it hadn't been visited for a long time...

Even worse, your paranoia began to remind you about the legend of Crystal Lake. Of course you had heard of it, your friends had even talked about it on the way up here. Jason Voorhees, a child bullied and left to drown. But the legend was that he either didn't drown or he came back somehow, killing those to visited the camp as revenge. But that wasn't possible...right? You didn't believe it...but now you were beginning to worry about the possibility.

Jason had seen everything, of course. Watching how your friends didn't seem to care about you leaving, neither of them worrying when it began to get dark, just heading off to one of the cabins to get some sleep.

It was late, it was dark, it was cold. And you were out there, lost and alone, not knowing which was was up. He had been doing this for years, the people who came to the camp were usually all the same, but you stood out to him. You had this sense of...innocence about you. You didn't deserve to have anything happen to you.

That's what had him walking away from the camp and searching the forest for you, since he knew the area like the back of his hand.

"This was so stupid" you whispered to yourself. You shouldn't have come in the first place and you shouldn't have walked away, you could die out here.

The sound of leaves crunching behind you made you jump and turn around, eyes widening at the figure that greeted you. A large man wearing a hockey mask. After getting over the initial scare, you considered it was one of your friends playing a prank on you but quickly shook away that idea. None of your friends were that tall or broad, this wasn't them...

You knew who it was...Jason Voorhees.

You didn't think he was real, well, you thought he died as a child and some myth was made up around the story. But this was the man that all the stories were about. And that meant...he was going to kill you.

He took a step towards you and you took one step back. It didn't surprise him but now he was lost on how to approach you. He didn't want to hurt you...he felt like he wanted to...protect you. So he stopped moving, not wanting to scare you further.

"Are...are you going to h-hurt me?" you asked, even though you were certain you knew the answer.

But, much to your surprise, he shook his head.

It could be a trick...

You stepped back again but your back hit a tree, keeping you in place as he continued to approach. He got close enough that you would be able to make out his features despite the dark, at least if he wasn't wearing a mask.

His head tilted to the side quizzically, pointing at you before giving you a thumbs up. You imagine that your face showed your shock and complete confusion. He repeated the gesture. Was he asking if you were...okay?

"Am I...okay?" he nodded. "I...yeah...lost..." you nodded right back at him.

Surprising you yet again, the man, the killer, held his hand out for you. But your gaze flickered down to the machete in his other hand, a reminder of just how dangerous this man was.

A cold breeze blew past, making you instinctively wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to warm yourself up. Jason noticed that you were shivering. But you weren't going to go with him if you thought he was going to hurt you...and you gaze was focused on his machete.

Your gaze snapped back up to his masked face when he lent down, placing the machete on the ground before standing back up. He took a step back and gestured towards the weapon.

Your eyes widened again, was he telling you to take the blade? He gestured again. He must be.

Carefully, you stepped forward, slow and cautious. Could still be a trap. You never took your eyes off of him as you lent down, wrapping your hand around the handle of the machete before standing back up. It was heavier than he made it seem but that shouldn't be surprising.

He held his hand out for you again, you were cautious and hesitant but you took it. Was else were you supposed to do?

Had he let you take the machete so that you could feel safe? To give you the impression that you could defend yourself against him? A part of you liked to think so but the more reasonable side of you knew that he didn't see you as a threat, with or without the large blade.

You followed the man, not knowing where you were doing. Whether you were getting closer to or further away from the camp where your friends were, you couldn't tell.

The man was silent the whole walk, only occasionally looking at you to make sure you were following, to make sure you were alright. Casting an amused glance down to the weapon in your hand, you couldn't use it if you wanted too...but he hoped it made you feel safer around him.

Eventually, you walked up to an old cabin. A little run down but it had what a person would need to live there. He guided you right up to the front door and opened it for you, letting you step inside. It was dim and dusty, not very well taken care of but clearly lived in.

"You...live here?" you asked quietly. If he wasn't going to kill you, and he really was trying to help you, you felt like you should talk or...something.

He nodded as he closed the front door, guiding you into the living room. He placed his hands on your shoulders, surprisingly gentle, as he pushed you down to sit on the couch.

"You're J-Jason, right?" you looked up at him with big, doe eyes. The way you looked at him, the way you said his name, it gave him a warm feeling in his chest.

It wasn't all that surprising that you knew who he was, the stories and rumours spread fast. But, right now, you weren't looking at him with fear in your eyes, and he liked that. You still held the machete in your lap, like you were unsure of what to do with it.

Jason nodded at your question before reaching behind you, pulling a blanket off of the back of the couch, unfolding it before wrapping it around your shoulders. It's cold, you need to warm up.

Letting go of the machete, you took hold of the blanket and pulled it around you some more.

"Why are you helping me?" your question went unanswered. You knew that he was trying to tell you something when he gently squeezed your shoulder but you couldn't tell what it was.

"Are you going to hurt my friends?" he paused, retracting from you. Even with the mask, you could sense the worry on him.

Well, he certainly wasn't what you expected the legend of Crystal Lake to be. The stories paint him as a vengeful killer, or maybe just a bloodthirsty psychopath, but he had already proven all that wrong. He had helped you, let you take his weapon so that you could feel safer, brought you somewhere safe to keep you out of danger, wrapped a blanket around you to keep you warm. He had been gentle, kind, considerate, and now he seemed worried...worried about how you would respond to his answer.

"You-you can't hurt them, you'd have to...have to kill me too. If you kill them and let me go, people would think I did it. And I don't want you to hurt them, please-" you were beginning to panic, eyes tearing up.

Yes, you had gotten into a fight with your friends, and yes they never treated you incredibly well, but you didn't want them to get killed or even hurt.

Jason thought over your words. You were right, you would get the blame for this and he didn't have any plans on hurting you. His mother would have liked you, she wouldn't approve of him hurting you at all. And he didn't want to upset you...this had gotten complicated...

"Please, Jason" how could he ever say no to that? You were asking him to have mercy on your friends, even after they treated you so badly, you were so...good.

Jason didn't nod or shake his head, he just gently stroked his hand over your hair. It was supposed to be reassuring, you hoped that he meant it.

He turned, kneeling down to ignite the fireplace. Then he left the room but he didn't take his machete, so you assumed your friends were safe for now.

You stayed put, not sure if you were meant to move or not. It wasn't long, only a few minutes, before the large man returned with a cup in his hand. It looked tiny in his grasp despite being a normal sized mug. You just watched as he placed it down on the table in front of you. A warm drink. Exactly what you needed.

Jason took another step back, giving you some space. It as considerate, understanding, not what somebody would expect from him. You gently placed the machete down on the table before picking up the cup, slowly bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. Some sort of herbal tea, you think. Not bad.

"...thank you" you whispered, glancing up at him before taking another sip of your drink.

Jason just watched you but it wasn't unsettling. He was intimidating in general but, you couldn't explain it, you just didn't feel like you were in danger...you felt safe, like he was here to protect you. You trusted that he would, even if that was a foolish.

"Would you...like to sit?" you asked, gesturing to the seat on the couch beside you. He looked uncomfortable just standing there, life he didn't want to get in the way or come to close.

He seemed surprised by your offer before slowly walking over, sitting down on the other side of the couch, still giving you your space.

"Are you going to take me back to the camp?" you asked, looking at him, completely unafraid.

Looking at you, Jason felt all sorts of feelings he hadn't felt before, or at least in a very long time. Here you where, cuddled up in a blanket on his couch, in his home, cradling your cup of tea. You looked so...right here.

Jason gestured to the window, making you look over to see that it was practically pitch black outside. "Tomorrow morning?" you asked if that was what he meant and he nodded.

Okay then...you'd just wait here all night...with a man known for the killing of multiple groups of teenagers...that sounded like a good idea...

Jason was uncomfortable, you could see that. His hands sat on his knees, he kept his distance and remained mostly still. He was twice your size, ten times stronger than you, a known killer and legend, and he was uncomfortable? Something told you that there was so much more to this man than anyone would have thought.

The rest of the night went by surprisingly well. It was quiet, neither of you talking. In fact, he hadn't spoken at all since he found you in the forest. He continued to keep his distance, watching over you protectively. He even let you keep the machete close, it laying right beside you as you slept, even if you felt the need for it lessening with each passing minute.

When you woke up, Jason was lingering in the doorway of the living room. It could have been seen as creepy but you knew that he was just waiting for you to wake up and didn't want to disturb you. You got up from your place on the couch, took the machete in your hand, and Jason guided you out of the house.

"So...you've been living up here all this time?" you asked as you followed him through the forest. He just nodded. He wasn't ignoring you, always responding when you spoke, always seeming to be listening to you, but he never spoke.

"And the stories...they're all true?" he hesitated for a moment before nodding. He could attempt to argue the exact details of each story, the ones that have been changed or even made up. But the idea of each story was true, so why bother telling you which exact groups he killed and which he didn't.

"Well, Jason, I can't deny that you've done some...awful things but...you've proven you aren't the monster people say you are" you spoke gently, lengthening your strides slightly to catch up to him and walk by his side. He looked down at you once you were by his side, a little taken back by the smile on your face.

You were something else, different to anyone he had met before. Not like the people he had to clean the camp of, not like the awful kids that treats him so badly. You were sweet, kind, good. And you were smiling at him like he was too, even if he was far from it in everyone else's opinion.

"Don't you get lonely up here?" you asked as you looked around the forest you were walking through. It was charming in it's own way, you could imagine somebody enjoying living out here, but you could also imagine that it would make them feel very alone in the world.

Jason just shrugged. Would he consider himself to be lonely? Perhaps. But he also didn't know much else.

"I bet the peace and quiet is nice though" you were still smiling so softly, your eyes lighting up when you heard the birds chirping overhead. He nodded, though you missed it, too busy admiring the birds.

Jason's hand landed on your shoulder, bringing you to a halt. You looked at him with a confused expression before looking straight ahead, seeing the camp. You could see your friends fighting outside one of the cabins but you doubted they could see you both hidden among the trees.

"Oh..." you nodded a he took the hand off of your shoulder. "Thank you again, Jason. For everything. For finding me, looking after me, bringing me back here...letting me and my friends live" you thanked the man once again. You were sure you would have died out in the forest if Jason hadn't found you.

"I guess this is goodbye then" you turned your body to face him, looking up with your usual friendly smile.

"If you'd like...I could come visit you when I have some time. Y'know, bring you something to say thank you. Would you like that?" you offered. Something in you felt bad for him, he seemed so unused to company but like he wanted it. He had been helpful and kind to you, you...you don't know why you trusted him but you did.

His eyes were wide behind the mask but he nodded. Did you mean it? Would you really come back to visit him? Or were you only saying this because he thought he would hurt you and your friends if you didn't. Either way, he nodded, because if you meant it, he would like that.

You smiled and held out his machete, which he took back gratefully. Even now that he had the weapon in his hand, you still didn't look scared.

"I'll see you later, Jason" you gave him another one of your honest smiles, glancing back at him over your shoulder as returned to the camp.

Jason watched silently as your friends hurried over to you, asking you where you were and if you are alright.

...he hoped you meant it when you said you would visit him, you would be a breath of fresh air around here...

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the 14 fics I read and enjoyed this month. As always, all the love for all the amazing authors in this fandom! ♥

In The Still Of The Night | jacaranda_bloom | Dirty Dancing AU - a/b/o - prejudice - gender stereotyping - class divide - angst - pining - smut - 69k In a society where omegas are expected to follow a predetermined path, Louis strives for more; for his voice to be heard, for recognition, for true love. In a world where your past defines your future, Harry fights against the system; for equality, for a different life, for acceptance. When their two worlds collide, will they be beaten down by conformity or will they rise up and forge a new path together? OR the Dirty Dancing AU where Louis is a feisty omega who wants to change the world, Harry is an alpha from the wrong side of the tracks, and nobody puts Louis in a corner.

Plant New Seeds in the Melody | 28sunflowers | enemies to friends to lovers - miscommunication - misunderstandings - emotional hurt/comfort - Original Character Death - grief/mourning - slow build - smut - 58k After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, the last thing Louis needs is to keep running into popstar Harry Styles, who David was quite fond of. Obviously, that’s exactly what keeps happening. But as their unlikely friendship blossoms, Louis realizes that, maybe, having Harry in his life was the only good thing that came out of his adverse circumstances. Harry could be just the right person to help Louis find trust and intimacy in someone new.

take my hand, wreck my plans | amomentoflove | Cinderella AU - a/b/o - royalty - Minor Character Death - emotional abuse - magic - 38k Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him. “Mr. H,” he whispers. The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.” “Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.” “Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…” “Dance?” Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.” Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.” Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

One More Taste of Your Lips | Canadianlarrie & MsHydeStylinson | canon compliant - reunion tour - angst - internalized homophobia/biphobia - cheating - smut - Coming Out - 80k It had been eight years since the hiatus began, and Louis had spent that time writing and recording music, touring and making it safely through the pandemic. When the opportunity arose to go back on tour with One Direction, Louis knew he'd be a fool not to take it. Sure, life on the road would be different after all this time apart, but he was looking forward to experiencing that comradery again. What he hadn't realised was that living the better part of nine months in each other's pockets was bound to dredge up issues from his past. And when one of the pockets belonged to Harry, who he'd had a rather unconventional friendship with that drifted apart during their last tour, life on the road again would upend both their lives in irrevocable ways. * Harry wasn’t that sixteen year old boy anymore. Nor was he the young man in his late teens who was on the cusp of conquering the entire world. But some traits seemed to remain the same; his vibrant green eyes, the dimples set deeply in his cheeks whenever he laughed earnestly, or his curls that were the same shade of cocoa that Louis remembered fondly. And yet, Louis had absolutely no idea who this man that stood a mere twenty paces away was today.

Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember | jaerie | time travel - Eroda - period-typical homophobia - anxiety - depression - discussion about suicide - self-discovery - post-break up - 54k Carefully he set that negative down and lifted the paper to see there was another beneath. This one again was a young man, this time posed against an antique car. He lifted a few more negatives out one by one, each a portrait of the same man with various backdrops. The man in a meadow, in an office, leaning against a doorframe — even one in his underwear grinning at the camera. On the edge of each negative printed in slanted, handwritten characters were the initials and date. H.S. 1924. He quickly but carefully packed them back into the box and buzzed with excitement. He couldn’t wait to develop them to see exactly what had been captured in the images. It was a find that felt like a puzzle to piece together. H.S. was likely the man in the photographs as well as the owner of the suitcase. Who was he? Why had his suitcase found its way into Niall’s attic? Was he still alive and well somewhere in the world? A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.

Know a Trick or Two | SadaVeniren | Harry Potter setting - mpreg - magic - kid fic - - genderfluid character - smut - intersex - 44k The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child. Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts. Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

come away with me | suspendrs | Minor Character Death - friends to lovers - sexuality crisis - emotional hurt/comfort - anxiety - smut - 80k Louis had such big plans. He wanted so much out of life, and so did Amy. Now Bridget is going to grow up without a mother, and she’s always going to wonder what it would be like if this hadn’t happened. He wonders if she’ll blame him for her mother’s death as she gets older, or if she’ll understand that this is just as painful for Louis as it is for her. Louis doesn’t know how he’s going to raise her on his own, because he’s a fantastic father, yes, but he’s always been the fun parent, and Amy was in charge of the rules. He doesn’t know how to make sure Bridget has everything she needs all the time, doesn’t know how to make her favorite meal or how to do that one braid she loves to have in her hair or how to teach her to be the best person she can be. He doesn’t know how to live without Amy, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter's life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help.

we made our promises (we said our vows) | millsx | Military AU - established relationship - kid fic - angst - hurt/comfort - mentions of PTSD - mentions of depressions - mentions of anxiety - injury - long-distance relationship - 21k Fairy tales always end with the Happily Ever After; the princess escapes her evil stepmother and gets married to the knight in shining armor. It turns out real life doesn’t care about Happily Ever Afters and sometimes problems appear when you don’t expect them to. Harry sure didn’t, not after years of being married.

Love, Ever After | jacaranda_bloom | a/b/o - farmers markets - soulmates - pining - miscommunication - fluff - banter - smut - 21k One would assume that the charismatic omega in charge of the local matchmaking service would have found a mate and settled down ages ago. His clients, in fact, are always a bit surprised when they come to learn that Louis is still single. But Louis doesn’t mind, not really. His standards are just high; he is happy holding out for his alpha, his soulmate, and chooses to not waste his time with anyone else, despite what his friends might think. That is, until his best mate from uni drags him out of bed far too early on a Saturday morning after a night of drinking to go to a farmers market, of all places. It’s there that he proceeds to make an utter fool of himself in front of the hottest alpha he has ever laid eyes on. There’s truly no coming back from that, is there? OR The one where omega Louis makes love matches, alpha Harry makes cheese, and meddling friends might finally make their dreams of finding their soulmate come true.

Hometown | allwaswell16 | High School - College/university - driving - heartbreak - memories - friendship - happy ending - angst - 2k On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.

fever dream high | wildestdreams | friends to lovers - childhood friends - a/b/o - fluff - angst - smut - mutual pining - High School - 30k "Excuse me, what?" Harry licked his lips, carefully looking him in the eyes. "I will spend your heat with you so you're ready by Monday to play your game." "Harry," Louis began, suddenly at a loss for words. "I couldn't ask you to do that." "Why not? You just said you trust me." "You're my best friend. There's no one I trust more than you." "Then what's the problem?" "Well, friends don't usually help you through your heats or ruts, so excuse me for being a little skeptical." or A High School ABO AU where Harry and Louis are best friends and nothing more until things start getting a little complicated and they're faced with feelings they never wanted to confront.

We are the same, you run in my veins | 28sunflowers | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o- soulmates - wolves -pack dynamics - 4k When the time for Louis to become the Alpha leader of his pack comes, he can’t rise to the occasion for not being yet bonded. A series of trips to neighbouring packs in search of his soulmate is fruitless until he meets one of the other packs’ Alpha heir. Harry. The world seems to stop turning for a second and then it shifts, clicking into its axis. All the distress and wrongness he felt until that very moment suddenly disappears. Louis is finally whole. But two Alpha leaders from different tribes soulbonding is something unheard of before.

Divinely Blessed | thinlines | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o - established relationship - PWP - 17k “I heard you, Ni. But what do you mean?” “What do you mean what I mean?” Harry rolled his eyes as he shoved his alpha friend down onto a seat. “Did you mean you lick someone out or…?” “Nah, mate! It was me! I got licked out!” Harry could only stare at Niall in horror. Alpha Harry prides himself on having the bravest and most caring omega who might or might not just fulfill his sudden curiosity.

This chemistry like candy to me | CuckooTrooke | a/b/o - kink discovery - mpreg - male lactation - smut - 8k "It's just... Are you aware, that, uh... You're- You're kind of leaking." Harry feels his blood run cold. The heart that was thudding so loud and fast drops to his stomach, and his shoulders hunch in embarrassment. "Excuse me?" Harry asks once he manages to gather himself and recover from the shock. He automatically steps back but since he's already squeezed in the corner, it doesn't do much to put any distance between them, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" "Wha- No. Oh my god, I wouldn't- No," The man says as he realizes the misunderstanding, and wildly gestures to his chest, "I mean your- Your chest. Is leaking." OR Harry is 8 months pregnant with a poor balance and traitorous nipples. Unfortunately for him, that is precisely when he meets a beautiful alpha in a packed London Tube. Fortunately for him, the said alpha might just be the best thing he has ever come across.

[hurricanery]

If the Sun Comes Up - pt. 4

A/N: Hi, it’s been a while, but here’s part 4 of If the Sun Comes Up! (AU - interns fic). This is me ignoring s17!!! Sorry for the delay, this has been repeatedly deleted from my drafts for the last week & then i didn’t even edit or make changes SO idk what all that was for. anyway thank you for sticking with this story! Previous parts here: part 1 // part 2 // part 3

Or, you can read on ao3.

_______

And so it starts, you switch the engine on

We set controls for the heart of the sun

One of the ways we show our age

_______

She has no idea how she got here. Or more specifically, how she could be pressured into something like this. Maggie typically prided herself on standing firm; standing her own ground and refusing to be swayed by others. But none of that self-proclamation holds true right now.

Because she’s here. Driving Winston’s car. Trunk filled to capacity and two of her roommates squeezed into the backseat.

The hypocrisy of it all is almost infuriating. Because Maggie hates camping.

“I hate camping,” she voices her detest out loud.

An apologetic sigh can be heard from Winston next to her, where he sits passenger side. But ultimately, it’s Amelia’s voice that grabs her attention, the bewilderment making itself known from the backseat.

“Oh, come on,” there’s an element of disbelief to her tone, and Maggie locks eyes with her through the rear-view mirror.

“Step out of your comfort zone a little, Maggie!” She raises her eyebrows, beginning to gesture with her hands. Link shuffles in his seat, where he’s squeezed in tightly beside Amelia, in an attempt to free up a little space for her body language. Some of the camping supplies had ended up packed over half of the backseat, and Maggie can’t help but chuckle at the proximity of Amelia’s hand to Link’s face as she gestures absentmindedly. “It’s camping. It’s adventurous, it’s-”

Maggie has since focused back on the road, but the sudden pause in speech makes her feel uneasy. Amelia’s focus shifts from the packaged tent next to her, to the back of Winston’s head, and then back to Maggie.

“It’s sleeping in a tent,” she continues, a spark of gleam in her eyes as she scans the couple in the front seat. “Or, maybe it’s not sleeping. Hey, I mean, whatever the two of you-”

“Amelia,” Maggie cuts in, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter as Winston’s hand comes to rest on her knee, giving it a soothing squeeze.

“Come on, babe,” Winston murmurs. “It’ll be fun. And plus, Karev would definitely be proud of us.”

Maggie grins a little, despite herself.

They’d been a bit all over the place, as a group of interns. A little bit too chaotic and never fully on the same page. As their resident, Karev was constantly voicing his impatience about the dynamics of the group. She partly thinks that yes, Alex would be proud of the bonding journey that they’d chosen to embark on, but the more realist part of her brain can’t ignore the obviousness that being roommates was probably bonding enough.

Maggie peeks in the rear-view once more, this time checking to make sure that Lexie and Jo are still following in the car behind them. She catches Amelia’s stare again and consequently feels the need to brace herself.

“Babe?” Amelia bites her lip, repeating the pet name Winston had just used. “What happened to ‘we’re just friends?’”

“We are friends.” Maggie sighs, trying her best to ignore the amusement that radiates from Winston at this specific call-out.

“And Link and I are friends,” Amelia’s quick with her rebuttal, tilting her head towards Link. “I don’t go around calling him babe.”

Link sucks in a breath, and then another one, with the addition of Amelia’s afterthought. “But maybe I’ll start.”

It’s subtle. The way Link’s face changes. He hides it just as quickly as it surfaces. But it’s there, she hasn’t imagined it, and it’s the first thing to make Maggie genuinely smile for the length of the trip so far.

“I’m kidding,” Amelia nudges Link with her shoulder. “I can come up with a better nickname than that.”

“Okay enough,” Maggie suppresses the grin she feels spreading across her cheeks. She reaches forward for the knob on the dashboard, turning the music up.

Link’s relief at the diversion tactic is almost palpable. Maggie can practically feel it from the backseat. She thinks maybe the feeling rising in her chest equates to sympathy.

She loves Amelia. She really does. Which is saying a lot, especially for her. It takes effort for her to grow comfortable with people, or to even relate on any level. She’s always felt a step ahead of most people in life. But Amelia really challenges her. It’s only been a couple of months since they’d met, and somewhere along the way, things changed. Amelia’s unpredictable nature had shifted from something Maggie initially feared, to something she appreciates. Like the human embodiment of the push she needs. The push she needs to take things less seriously, or the push she needs to open up and be spontaneous. Whatever the case, it’s never felt more necessary. Like she’s been missing out on it for too long. So, she tries to embrace it at every turn.

“Are we almost there?” Amelia pipes up again from the backseat. “I have to pee, and believe me, I’m down for a little side-of-the-road action if that’s what it comes down to-”

Maggie groans impatiently. But then she remembers about embracing it. So decidedly, her next words sound gentle. “We’re almost there, hold it together.”

_______

It ends up taking two full hours for six surgical interns to figure out how to set up a campsite. And even though the task is grueling, the level of teamwork somehow exceeds what they normally display during a typical hospital shift.

The sun starts to set as the second of the two tents finally stands on it’s own and everyone takes a moment to finally relax.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Link sits back against the tree on the outskirts of their surrounding area.

Jo huffs out a breath as she joins him, rolling her eyes. “That was two hours of my life that I’ll never get back.”

“What’s next?” Amelia steps out of the larger tent, pulling a sweatshirt over her head. “Does anyone know how to build a bonfire?”

_______

She has no idea how it got to this. How six grown adults could resort to immature party games around a campfire and feel so content about it. Maggie had been relieved when the game of ‘truth or dare’ ended as quickly as it started. She’d been hoping for something a bit more intellectual. A little less high school.

Unfortunately her hopes were never granted.

“Wait, I feel like the stakes aren’t high enough.” Amelia had tossed the observation out flimsily.

But the observation had its impact.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

And then the ideas had piled on.

“Loser has to cover my scut work in the ER all week.”

“No way.”

“Loser has to make us each a s'more.”

“Nah. Stakes not high enough.”

“Loser has to jump in the lake.”

Amelia had voiced the last one, resulting in a surprised type of silence. The type of silence that could raise stakes.

It was the ultimatum they were looking for, apparently. And to much of Maggie’s dismay, they hadn’t moved on to an intellectual game. Nothing worth raising the stakes over, at least.

Because they’d settled on a game of ‘never have I ever.’

“Okay, okay. My turn. What have I not done…?” Amelia trails off, deep in thought, and it earns some chuckles from the group. “Oh! Never have I ever had a threesome.”

Suspectful eyes dart around the bonfire, and Link’s attempt to conspicuously fold down a finger fails.

“Link!”

Jo giggles hysterically.

“You have?” There’s surprise in Amelia’s voice, and it corresponds with the way her face lights up.

“You haven’t?” Link bites back.

“Well, almost, I guess. But-”

“Okay!” Jo interjects. “No need for context! That’ll just slow us down. Link, your turn.”

“Okay,” Link grins determinedly across the bonfire, eyes landing on Amelia. “Never have I ever almost had a threesome.”

Amelia scoffs, dropping a finger.

“Wait!” Maggie fast-tracks her disapproval. “Are we singling people out now? The game will end too quickly if we-”

“Never have I ever been named after an iconic literary figure.” Amelia jumps in again, completely ignoring Maggie’s objection.

Link drops a finger, rolling his eyes. Too easy.

“Never have I ever slept with Mark Sloan.”

He sounds proud of this one. And all focus drifts to Amelia, whose eyes narrow only slightly as she drops another finger.

“You did what?” Maggie seems skeptical.

“You did what? When?” And Lexie’s voice sounds strained.

“Shit, sorry. Too far?” Link’s pride genuinely replaces itself with worry.

“I never meant for it to be a secret.” There’s something distinct about Amelia’s tone as she jumps back into the game, clearly with the intention of going after Link again. “Never have I ever-”

“No!” Maggie seems to be the only one intervening at this point. “No, stop. My turn. If we play it your way, this game will be over in two seconds.”

Amelia and Link shrug dismissively amidst the general hums of agreement.

“Never have I ever…” Maggie pauses, taking a moment to truly think on it. She racks her brain for ways to prolong the game. “Never have I ever been arrested!”

Amelia slowly drops her last finger, a grimace consuming her face, and Maggie’s mouth opens wide in shock.

“Amelia, what,” she breathes. “I was trying to keep people in the game. What-”

“We agreed on no context!” Amelia is quick to refute, forcing a grin as she repeats the request spoken earlier.

“Okay….” She draws out her response, and the next part of her sentence sounds quiet, or laced with secondhand defeat. “But you lost the game already.”

“That’s fine,” Amelia is just as quick to stand from her chair, shrugging casually at what that entails.

“Amelia-”

“To the lake? Or am I doing this without witnesses?”

Maggie’s brows furrow at the bitterness that exists in that question, but then Amelia turns, walking away from them, and Maggie is the first to go after her.

_______

"Amelia, you’re the one who made the rule. You can’t back out now.”

They’re all huddled together at the sandy area near the dock that edges out into the dark lake, and Maggie can’t hold back her impatience. She’s a rule-follower, after all. She's also cold. And she just wants to be by the bonfire again.

“I know, I know. I’m….” Amelia trails off, exhaling harshly. “Just give me a minute.”

There’s momentary quiet. The kind of quiet that nearly gives room for everyone to re-think what’s about to happen. But, if anyone's thoughts were the loudest, they were Amelia’s.  

“The sun was still out when I made up this rule!”

That’s true. Maggie can give her that. It’s late now, purely dark outside except for the glow of the moonlight reflecting off of the lake.

“We don’t know what’s in there…” Amelia adds, eyes focused on the body of water before them. “We don’t know if it’s safe to swim here.”

“It’s a state park,” Winston chuckles.

“And there’s a sign right there,” Lexie adds matter-of-factly, nodding towards the edge of the sand. “No lifeguard on duty. Swim at your own risk.”

“Amelia, it's a swimming beach.”

There’s an element to Amelia’s expression that Maggie sees herself in. It provokes that feeling. The heart-lurching feeling that comes with the awareness that you can’t bring yourself to do the thing you intend to do. The restlessness that rises with the opposition of your mind moving miles a minute but your feet remaining frozen where you stand. It takes place in the nervous system. And it’s like the physical manifestation of not being able to rip the bandaid off, or not being able to take the plunge, to be more literal in this scenario.

Suddenly, Maggie’s hit with the fleeting recognition that everyone’s the same deep down. Some were just better at hiding it than others.

The revelation almost makes her feel sympathy. Almost.

Because Amelia’s version of hiding it was turning out to be displaced over-confidence.

“I knew you were all talk and no-”

“I’ll jump in with you,” Link interrupts, nudging Amelia, who shakes from her daze as she turns away from the lake, locking eyes with Link.

“Shit, I’m down, too,” Jo shrugs. “I’m right behind you guys.”

A look of pure skepticism crosses Amelia’s face, and Link just starts to grin, hugely.

“No,” Maggie breathes. “No, no, no.”

Because she knows what this is about to turn into. And then it’s all happening, fast.

Link is stripping down to his boxers, tossing his clothes into a pile on the grass just left of the dock. And then he’s running. His feet clamber against the wood paneling as he takes off over the structure that extends along the shore and into the body of water.

There’s a huge splash. And then he resurfaces, gasping.

“It’s not that deep, come on!” He yells. “And it’s warm, too. Like a hot tub!”

The next thing Maggie registers is that Jo is following suit, peeling off her sweatshirt and tossing it towards Link’s pile of clothes.

She feels Winston’s hand grip her shoulders, gently pushing her towards the dock as he murmurs “Come on, babe.”

There’s another splash somewhere, and then Jo resurfaces, giggling hysterically. "Link!” She gasps dramatically, “You liar, this is fucking freezing!”

And all Maggie can think is this is so unfair.

_______

It’s so unfair.

The fact that five people have somehow endured jumping into this lake and yet, Amelia remains unscathed. Secure, on dry land, a smirk on her face that can only signify that she thinks she’s won.

“Amelia!” Maggie yells once again. “You have thirty seconds to get into this water.”

“Maggie-”

“No way,” Maggie cuts her off before the smug tone can set her off even further. She lets go of Winston’s shoulder, which she’s been holding onto for dear life since she jumped in, and she swims closer to the dock. Closer to Amelia. “I won’t let you play us like this.”

Amelia grins further, dipping just her toes in the water. “Maggie, I’m not trying to play anyone, I-”

“Get in the water, Amelia!” Maggie shouts, but her impatience only leads to more smugness on Amelia’s behalf.

She almost gives up. Accepts defeat. But then Link is joining her, inching towards Amelia on the dock, whose expression falters only slightly as they approach.

“Should we splash her?” Maggie tilts her head towards Link, inquisitive edge to her voice. “We could splash her.”

The threat seems to be the push Amelia needs. She shakes her head incessantly as they make their advance, and she takes a deep breath before she goes to remove her jeans, adding them to the pile of clothes that everyone else has stripped off.

Jo whistles from somewhere further out into the lake and Amelia’s smirk returns, a complete result of the knowledge that she has an audience. Her classic Harvard sweatshirt gets added to the pile and then she’s on an even playing field with everyone else, dressed down to whatever underwear she’d thrown on this morning.

They continue their approach, and Amelia looks down just as a burst of wind forcibly shakes the branches of a tree above, thus causing her to wrap her arms around herself.

“You’ll warm up faster if you get in, Shepherd.” Link says in a low tone.

“I know,” Amelia’s tone is just as low. “But I’m not jumping.”

“What happened to adventurous?!” Maggie mocks her. Not harshly, but more so aiming to re-inspire the fearlessness that previously had been.

“I’m not jumping in,” Amelia repeats as she sits at the edge of the dock, letting the water hit her up to about mid-shin. “I’m just gonna kind of slide in….” She trails off as Link pushes forward, now in shallow enough water to stand. And when Amelia goes to wrap her arms around herself again, Maggie swears it’s out of modesty this time.

“It’s harder that way,” Link smiles up at her. “But okay.”

“Okay,” she repeats his sentiment, but doesn’t make any move to get into the water.

“Okay,” Maggie interjects, directing her next words at Link. “As apparently the only rule-follower here, I give you full permission to do whatever it takes to get her into this water already.”

Her instructions result in a mischievous twitch of Link’s lips, and conversely, a look of complete betrayal from Amelia.

“Your rules.” Maggie quietly defends herself.

Link turns back to Amelia, who meets his gaze with pure panic in her eyes. But he steps closer anyway, placing his hands around her shins and pulling her a couple inches closer to where he stands in the water.

She gasps. Her hands fly out, landing on his shoulders. “Wait wait wait!” She cries, the alarm in her voice matching the frantic action of her nails digging into his skin.

Link stops his movements, placing his hands on her knees as he tries to read her facial expression.

Her eyes dart between his. “You swear it’s not too cold?”

“It’s not cold, Amelia,” he murmurs, moving his hands underneath her bare thighs and pulling her forward an inch more.

Maggie looks between the two, suddenly feeling out of place, or like she’s witnessing a private moment. But, she can’t tear her eyes away. She feels transfixed by the eye contact happening between the pair, and she lets out a stunned chuckle.

“It’s not cold,” Link repeats, and now Maggie scoffs. Because this moment is becoming almost unbelievable with tension. But then Link’s expression changes. Just as quickly as flipping a switch. The facet of mischief returns to his eyes and then he’s opening his mouth again.

“And I’m so sorry for this!” He shouts as he finally pulls Amelia into the water, throwing his head back with laughter as she resurfaces before him.

Her arms are still wrapped around his shoulders in a viselike grip. “Alright, screw you for that!” She laughs as she comes to her senses, consequently letting go and distancing herself from Link. “But thank you, I guess."

“My pleasure.”

Maggie watches, eyes burning with curiosity, and she’s not able to hide the smile that creeps onto her lips as the pair move as far away from each other as possible. The interaction is way too amusing, and part of her feels like, if she were the menacing type, this would be the perfect opportunity to pay back some of Amelia’s relentless teasing with some of her own.

“Can we get out now?” Lexie swims up, interrupting her thoughts. “I’m kinda over this.”

“I just got in. Was that for no reason?!”

“And whose fault is that?” Maggie snickers. But it doesn’t sound harsh at all, as she offers Amelia a comforting smile.

When they eventually leave the shoreline, Maggie feels a sense of fondness course through her. Or maybe protectiveness. Whatever the feeling, it was definitely the stark opposite of her previous annoyance with the way the evening was turning out.

She carefully observes as Amelia slows behind the group, and she slows with her, matching her pace.

Amelia offers her a small smile, before a shiver takes over her body, interrupting her guise. It makes sense, Maggie thinks. Because soaking wet hair and the sun going down in the middle of nowhere might just bring on that sort of involuntary action.

But she can’t ignore the shift in energy. The sudden vanishing of the confidence and even the playful competitiveness.

“You okay?” She eventually asks.

“Tired.” Amelia only offers a shrug, her thumbnail nearly reaching the corner of her mouth in a restless action. But it’s like she catches herself, as Maggie’s stare burns into her, and instead she drops her hands to her sides.

“Me too,” Maggie’s voice is soft, and an impulse rises in her that screams comfort. Suddenly, her arm is wrapping around Amelia’s shoulder tightly, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get some sleep.”

_______

It’s a known fact that Maggie hates camping. She can think of several reasons for that. One of the side effects she’d fail to consider, though, was the consequent lack of rest that would come with it.

It couldn’t be any later than 5am, she concludes, as she unzips her and Winston’s tent and steps out into the dark campground.

To much of her surprise, she’s not alone. She’s not the only one experiencing the unwanted side effects of sleeping in a tent.

“Hey,” Amelia’s voice sounds gravelly, as she perks up from the chair she’s seated at around the empty bonfire. “Good morning.”

“How can it be morning?” Maggie groans. “Does it really count as morning when you didn’t get any sleep at all?”

“You’re preaching to the choir.”

Maggie frowns. “You didn’t sleep?”

“Link snores. And Lexie talks in her sleep….” Amelia weakly attempts a smile, and it just makes Maggie’s frown deepen.

“Everything alright?” She asks.

“Yeah, just wish I’d slept better.”

Maggie squints, because there’s detail there that she can’t quite decipher. She scans Amelia’s face another moment, before an idea strikes.

“Do you want to go on a hike with me? Watch the sunrise?”

“You don’t really seem like the hiking type.”

“You’re right. I guess ‘hike’ is a strong word. But anyway, how about it?”

Amelia stares blankly at her for a long moment, before eventually she nods, standing up.

“Alright,” Maggie grins. “Let me tell Winston where we’re going first.”

_______

They take a marked path. Signs at every turn highlight for them which way to go. It’s a few minutes into the hike before either of them speaks. It’s Amelia who opens up the conversation.

“Ready to be home?”

Maggie laughs. “Absolutely. I’ve been ready since the moment we got here.”

“Well, hopefully they have the cars all packed by the time we get back.”

Maggie nods, then reaches for the water bottle she’d brought with her, taking a few sips.

“Do I tease you and Winston too much?”

The question completely catches Maggie off guard, and she harshly swallows her sip of water.

“Huh?”

“I can be….a little overbearing sometimes. But,” Amelia offers a quick side-glance. “At least I’m self aware about that.”

“Not at all. I mean, honestly, Winston gets a kick out of it so-”

“Yeah, but do you?”

Maggie stops walking, her face muddled with confusion. It takes Amelia a moment to realize she’s stopped, and she turns around, meeting Maggie’s stare expectantly.

“Amelia….If it bothered me I would tell you.”

Amelia nods at this information, and then turns away, continuing on the path.

“Was I too harsh last night? About the rules of the game?” Maggie quickens her pace, catching up.

“No,” Amelia laughs under her breath. “We needed the discipline, I think.”

“Yeah but you didn’t need to jump into that lake. I can be a little of overbearing sometimes, too, so-”

“Nah. We balance each other out.”

Maggie squints, a little surprised by that observation. She’s taken aback by the accuracy of it, and it’s evident in her inflection.

“We kind of do, don’t we?”

Amelia beams at her, before her gaze returns to the path below. “I’m glad we came to that realization.”

Comfortable silence falls between them, and there’s a few minutes dedicated purely to the hike, before Amelia clears her throat to speak again.

“Although, I am trying to jump less. So maybe I need you to balance me out just a little more.”

“You lost me,” Maggie quirks an eyebrow at her. “Are we talking about the lake still?”

“Metaphorically. Maybe.”

Maggie’s expression just grows more perplexed, urging Amelia to continue.

“I’ve been….historically known to jump into things. Or people. Or habits, or…” She cuts herself off with a harsh breath, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “I’d like to do that less. The whole….jumping blindly and hoping I’ll land, thing. So. Maybe I need you to balance me out a little more.”

Maggie nods, slowly grasping the explanation. “I get that.”

“Do you?”

“Well, no,” Maggie frowns. “I’ve never been one to….do anything, really, without weighing the pros and cons first. But, I do get what you’re saying, though. Even if I can’t personally relate.”

Amelia keeps her eyes glued to the path ahead, and the lack of response forces Maggie to attempt filling the silence with her own self-reflection.

“I’ve been thinking of taking a note from you, in that way, actually. Sometimes I really need to think less.”

This makes Amelia smile. “Maybe we can try to meet in the middle somewhere.”

“Yeah, that might be good for us.”

As the conversation trails off again, Maggie can’t help but question what specifically Amelia is referencing. She doesn’t want to push, especially given her recent self-proclamation as overbearing. But part of her thinks that one last inquiry won’t hurt.

“You and Link seem to have fun.”

Amelia’s eyes snap up to Maggie’s face before the sentence is even finished.

“What makes you say that?”

There’s not an ounce of emotion in Amelia’s expression. It’s probably the best poker face Maggie has ever seen. And so she’s careful with her next words, her voice slow and questioning.

“I just mean....you know….the banter?”

“Banter?”

“Yes the banter, Amelia,” she lets out a stunned chuckle. “I don’t know how else to put it! It’s like you’re constantly play-fighting. It’s like….it’s like this weird, alluring competitiveness that’s almost uncomfortable to watch. It’s being at each other’s throats over a stupid game of ‘never have I ever.’ It’s the craziest form of flirting I’ve ever witnessed, and it’s-”

“Link and I are friends.”

“Winston and I are friends.” She bites down on her grin, trying to contain the pride that radiates as she uses Amelia’s own pointed claims against her.

“Okay, don’t pull that on me.”

“I think it’s perfectly fair-”

“Maggie.”

“Amelia.”

Two pairs of eyes tighten upon scrutinized contact.

“Amelia,” she softens her expression a bit. “All I’m saying is….despite it being weird to watch.” She releases an awkward exhale.  “I think it works. I think you’ve kinda met your match.”

“There’s no match to be made, Maggie! I’m-”

They’re both a little caught off guard by the frustration and volume of Amelia’s tone. And Amelia takes a moment to breathe before she continues, an octave lower this time.

“I’m jumping less, remember?”

Maggie wants to frown. She wants to disagree. She almost wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

But they’re edging towards the outskirts of the campsite. She can hear voices, and the distinct sound of car trunks slamming shut. Which signifies that they’re nearing the end of the hike, so she bites her tongue instead, because Amelia looks too exhausted to argue it more.

They clear the trees, entering the campground, and Winston watches them approach.

“Hey! Cars are packed, but it’ll be a tight squeeze again,” he smiles sympathetically. He walks forward to rest his hands on Maggie’s shoulders in familiar reassurance. “And you get to sleep in the car, because this time I’m driving.”

_______

Maggie doesn’t think she’s imagining this part.

Her lack of sleep the night prior results in Winston’s refusal to let her drive. Which only bothers her a little, because the exhaustion outweighs her requisite for control.

Her eyes feel heavy as she rests her head against the window. She tries to focus on the road ahead as Winston drives; doesn't want to give up being a second pair of eyes as she sits passenger side. But her fatigue gets the best of her. Although it’s difficult to separate her overtired brain from certainty, she doesn’t think she’s imagining this part.

She hears it first. Link’s chuckle.

It’s enough to shake her from her reverie. She lifts her head and tries to be conspicuous as she turns, glancing into the backseat.

Amelia’s sat in the middle seat again, squeezed tightly between the camping supplies and then Link on the other side of her. Her eyes are fighting to stay open, and she's doing that weird head bobbing thing. That subconscious move that happens quite literally before falling asleep.

“Hey. Here.”

The sound of Link’s voice causes Amelia’s eyes to widen, quickly becoming aware of herself. She continues to blink, fighting off a bout of exhaustion that Maggie completely sympathizes with.

When Amelia locks eyes with him, Link simply pats his shoulder, indicating a potential landing spot for her head.

She frowns tiredly at him.

“Just do it,” he shrugs, patting his shoulder again. “I’m a better option than that boxed tent.” He nods past her. “As far as pillows go, at least.”

Amelia seems to fight it for a second. She really does. Her eyebrows pull together as she continues to stare blankly at Link.

Maggie diverts her attention because once again, she feels like she’s intruding on some private moment. But she remains listening. She can’t help it. There’s some shuffling around and then-

“Hm.” She hears Amelia hum. “You do make a decent pillow.” It’s followed by a murmured “Thank you.”

“Sure. What are friends for?”

Link’s response is barely a whisper, but Maggie can hear it still, even over the general hum of the highway below. She doesn’t think she’s imagining this part.

What are friends for?

It’s enough to make her turn in her seat again, an incredulous stare plastered on her face as she raises her eyebrows in Link’s direction.

He seems not to notice her interest, or rather her disbelief. Because his focus is consumed by the dark head of hair resting against his shoulder.

Amelia’s eyes are shut tight, her expression revealed when she adjusts herself slightly against him. And then Link smiles to himself, still unaware of the scrutiny descending from the front seat.

Maggie allows the doubt to flood her mind as she turns to rest against her own window again, and she fights off a smile as she lets her eyes finally close.

Friends. Right.

//

[ficsnroses]

Pregnancy Headcanons - John Wick x Reader

❧ may be read as a follow up to these.

warnings : pregnancy. smut. morning sickness mention. mega fluff.

words : 2.3k. requested by a lovely anon!

notes : remember ages ago when I said I’d whip these up? I did em! I couldn’t fit all my ideas. lemme know if you’d like to see another one of these with a similar concept. feedback appreciated as always! 

I love headcanons. so easy. so carefree. so much to say. don’t forget that you can request headcanons, too! not just full fics or drabbles.

A few weeks ago, John and you found out you were pregnant. Initially, it’s been slightly frightening to know that in a mere nine months or so, John and you will have a baby, a little human, who’s entire world you two will be, and they will be yours in return.

You’re more frightened, being the one carrying your child. You have your fears of not being good enough, or not knowing how to be the utmost perfect mother you can be to your baby.

John, however, is ecstatic. He’s frightened as well; he’s never done this before. Yet, he keeps it under wraps for you. For you, John always puts on a brave face and holds your hand each step of the way.

He goes out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable and well taken care of. So far, your belly isn’t even showing; but there is life inside. John has always treated you as a queen, but it has intensified tenfold after he got you pregnant.

Not a dish in the house is allowed to be washed by you, not a cloth may be touched. John wants to you relax and take it easy, focus on yourself. He truly believes that as long as you’re happy and healthy, the baby will be too.

John has always been an absolute sweetheart; nonetheless, since you’ve gotten pregnant, he’s only gotten lovelier. Many times, you fear you’re dreaming, and may wake up soon. John Wick is quite literally;

too good to be true.

Each morning, he’ll nuzzle into your chest, smiling a goofy grin.

“Morning, beautiful.” He whispers into your hair, peppering soft kisses to your temples and forehead. “And to you too, peanut.” He smiles, heavy hand rested to your growing tummy. John never misses an opportunity to tell you how much he loves you, and your baby. Despite them not even being here yet. He knows that this pregnancy will take a toll on you; he’d wish for more than anything that he could carry the pain instead of you, which is why he showers you with love. He’d never want you to forget how important you are; how much you mean. You’re his entire world and this means more to him than you can imagine.

Morning sickness has been tough. Often, you’ll wake up feeling nauseous, however, you feel secure knowing you have a team player on your side. Occasionally, in the middle of the night when you’re up at 3:00am feeling awful, John helps you out of bed, holding your hair up for you and rubbing small, soothing circles to your back in the washroom.

“I’m going to make you ginger tea, alright babe?” He quietly speaks, leaving a speckled kiss to your shoulder as you freshen up. You feel awful keeping him up this late, John always needs rest due to his gruesome job.

Foot rubs and massages get a lot more common as your tummy grows. John doesn’t mind, he enjoys the intimacy and being close to you.

Speaking of intimacy…

You continue having sex for as long as you can, because you both know that down the road, as your hormones continue to fluctuate and your belly grows, it may not be something you’ll be able to do often.

John and you do, and always have had sex often for as long as you’ve been together. It helps John ease down, calm his nerves and relieve tension. You don’t mind making love to him either, of course. You feel lucky to feel him so close, and to be the only women who feels him that way.

“Close your eyes, Squish,” John whispers a chuckle, a delicate kiss placed to your bare belly, just where your baby rests. His heavier hands gently peel off the fabric of your bottoms, full lips trailing lower, soft kisses pecked to your inner thighs as he nears your heat. “Daddy’s about to do some real nasty things to mommy.”

You’re not sure if its just your hormones, or delicate emotions as of late. Nonetheless, having sex with John has felt…closer since you got pregnant. It truly feels like you’re making the sweetest of love each and every time. He kisses you so sweet, works you so slow, so intimately, so tenderly, it brings tears to your eyes.

Having him inside feels unreal, divine. He only picks up pace nearing climax, his expertise, skill and unmatchable affection never failing to spill you over the edge so well.

As your belly grows bigger and bigger a few months in, going places, and moving is becoming increasingly tough. Grocery trips have become progressively more tiresome; car rides gradually more uncomfortable. John tries his hardest to help, and understands if you snap at him a little too quick or accidentally pick a fight over something minor.

“Can you turn the music down? Please?” You interrupt a serene drive home from the market, voice coaxed with irritation, laced aggravation tinted across all tones. John’s hand rests to your thigh as he drives, his other placed to the thin steering wheel. You’d been complaining about discomfort the entire morning; he felt awful knowing you were in any sort of pain.

“Sorry.” He sighs, hand shifting from your thigh to crank the stereo of his beloved Mustang 69’ down. Passing traffic winds roar outside, the New York buildings passing in towering lengths. John’s palm immedietly rests back to your thigh; smooth, gentle strokes ran across the fabric clad to your lap. His eyes stay focused to the road, yet his hand stays touching you, letting you know he’s there.

That he’ll always be there, no matter how frustrated you get, how intolerable your nagging becomes.

He loves you, and he loves his baby. He’s waited far too long to have this; normalcy, something his, something his own; something created out of love, familiarity. Something he’d lacked for far too long.

“Ugh.” You exhale, after a moment of stretched silence, hand coming up to rub your weary eyes. “I’m being awful, aren’t I?” You whisper, saddened eyes locking to your husband’s street bound orbs. He turns momentarily to lock eyes, a gentle smile your way.

“No, sweetheart.” He assures, grip on your thigh tightening. You groan, rebutting. “No, John. I am. I’m sorry.” You sigh, reaching both your hands down to your lap to engulf his, holding his hand in a soft grip. You rub the top of his palm, relaxing, playing with his sturdier fingers. “I love you. I really do.” Sincerely, your eyes stay focused to his well defined features, the dark beard that rides his cheek.

And to the sound of your guilty voice, John chuckles, securing your hand in his, before brining it up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“I know.”

John has come to all your ultrasound appointments; he wouldn’t miss them for the world. He holds your hand the entire time, signature goofy smile daubed to his smoky features.

The first ultrasound was incredibly emotional, you shed a couple of tears. John and you stare at the screen, a pea sized dot resting in the darkened frame. John’s hand holds yours so tight, so warm, you’d felt as if you could feel him within you. Like he was this significant, big part of you that you would cherish forever. Seeing him smile that day will be a sight you’ll never forget; a mural you’ll never surrender.

Through out your time together, over the timeline of your love, you’ve only seen John this way a handful of times. This happiness was different; held something sole, matchless. This was pure happiness, where nothing else tinted the depths of his thoughts. No insecurities, no doubts, no ghosts of his past. Apart from the day you said yes to marrying him, and the day of your wedding, you don’t remember John ever being this unconditionally, purely, happy.

You both sit on the couch later that night, John’s arms holding you close as your head lays to his broad chest, staring, smiling at the picture of your dream; the one that would conquer your entire hearts when they’d come.

John keeps a copy of the ultrasound picture in his wallet. He takes a moment to look at it, to remember what he has any time he needs a pick me up throughout the day.

John takes amazing care of you, your needs always before his. He monitors your eating and drinking, to make sure you and the baby are healthy. He gives you your supplements; you often forget the times throughout the day you need to take them.

Speaking of food…

Midnight cravings have become a usual for you. Normally, you suffice for waddling down to the kitchen, sure not to disturb your snoozing husband.

Gently removing his arm from your waist, you always smile a gentle, loving glaze his way. John sleeping is a sight you’ve come to adore over the years.

John at peace; is a sight you’ve come to adore. He deserves rest, he deserves peace.

Although, its tough not to wake John. More often than not, he’ll find you in the kitchen in the AM dark, smiling a cheeky grin as you devour left over dinner, or a questionable choice of midnight snack.

He’ll come up behind you, wrapping his arms snoozily around your mid, hands placed to your tummy. With a gentle kiss to the back of your head and his warm chest pressed to your back, his sleep thick, honey seared voice rasps a tender baritone in your neck.

“Hungry?” He’ll chuckle, quiet and warm. You only nod, lacing your hand to his that rests on your belly.

Of course, there have been rare nights where you crave something that isn’t in the fridge. John never turns you down, however. No matter how tired, how sleepy he is, he ventures to your local 24-hour market, or gas station in search of whatever you’d yearned.

“Should I come with you?” You bite your lip, pulling the comforter of your shared bed higher up your chest as you sit up. “I’m sorry I’m making you go out.” You frown, insecure. “But I just can’t stop thinking about how I just need a candy bar right now.”

John’s brown leather jacket shrugs onto his shoulders, and his lips smile your way, picking his wallet up off the night stand.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll be quick.” He whispers, a kiss to your forehead before he’s out the door, blinking away sleep dense orbs.

For you, he’d wake a thousand nights. A million slumbers may waste away.

Slowly, you build the nursery for your baby. John works away, painting once crisp white walls into something more pastel, something that would welcome your child with joyful colour.

John has definitely become more talkative over the pregnancy.

He never misses out on a chance to kiss your belly, or talk to them.

“I’ll be back soon.” He announces, car keys armed in his sturdy fingers. With a kiss to your lips, he smiles. “I love you, don’t forget it.”

“Hurry back please.” You frown, a light whine coated to your tone. John only nods, slightly dropping to his knee in front of you, a quick, brief kiss placed to your tummy. “Keep mommy company, squish.” He tells your belly, a quiet, barely audible ‘daddy loves you’ Fled into the air, before he’s up, his hold on your hand let go as you walk him to the door, wishing him a wonderful day with a final kiss to his cheek.

You shop for cribs, toys, decorations all together. John looks incredibly handsome building the crib, painting the walls, asking exactly where you wanted everything to be placed. You watch him from your rocking chair in the corner, a hand to your belly as you talk to John the entire time, about anything, and everything.

John is a wonderful listener. Together, you two often talk about your future. A future where you’ll move away somewhere out of town,

Somewhere closer to the water, down the road. Somewhere where John’s ghastly pasts wont haunt him no more; somewhere you’ll grow old together with a white picket fence, and a story.

Your story, that you’ll tell you grandkids someday, when you’re old and gray, slightly slower; but still, hopelessly in love.

John adores talking to the baby. On secluded, rainy evenings, or when the sun sets out the mauve horizon and the trees bid goodnight to cotton clouds, John and you lounge on the couch, a thick, heavy novel equipped in John’s palm as he reads to you, and your tummy.

With his head resting on your lap, you stroke his lengthy coffee mane, fully engaged, lost in his mélange voice; smoky and rich, beautifully saccharine. Your thumbs coax his tired temples; gently scratching his stubble ridden cheek when you please. Every now and then, John’s glowing eyes peer up, glossing over your features.

He looks lovely like this, at ease, immersed in art.

To you, he is the loveliest of art. He’s a story, he’s a piece of Neverland. He’s your love story, and it’s one,

for the ages;

your love is one for the ages.

Sometimes, he’ll fall asleep this way, head resting in your lap as you stroke his hair. Him and the baby rest together, so close to you.

This was what it meant to have true, wholesome, pure, purpose. To have security, to have something truly, only, yours.

They were yours.

Pregnancy would be tough. It would be a journey, things would change, you would change. But you weren’t scared, for a single moment.

Because you knew, that you had your dream, your mountain of a man beside you, holding your hand,

Each step,

Of the way.

And you knew, you knew well. That the day your baby comes, they will have the most amazing, wonderful father who loves them, and their mommy to the ends of the world, and back.

You’d felt love before, you’d had everything before.

But with this, with what you’ve made, with John; it falls incomparable.

He’s the love that made all the others,

Irrelevant.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

[innately-pretentious]

Finally, I Found You. (Klaus Hargreeves x Reader)

Request: Hey! I looooved your Klaus headcanons and was wondering if you could write about when him and the reader are reunited in the 60s??? Totally fine if not, have a nice day!

A/N: Awh thank you so much, I hope this is alright dude! I am really tempted to turn this into a series tho... if you want that?? Even if this is really rough and kind of rushed. Kinda angsty? Kinda sad? Very fluffy. Enjoy!

Being spat out of a spinning vortex into a dingy alley was enough to stress anybody out, especially after a rather terrifying and life threatening encounter with your sister initiating the apocalypse. Navigating through the twenty first century was difficult enough, but being catapulted into a completely new decade with nothing but your bag and clothes you were wearing just about topped that.

Letting out a cry as you hit the ground and groaning as you rolled over and tried to get our bearings. Glancing around to see if you could locate any of your siblings whom you were with only a few minutes previously, you stood up and brushed yourself off, you began calling out their names. Sadly with no success, there was no response, you were alone.

You continued pacing along the pavement, trying to come up with a plan of action. Deciding you couldn’t improve your situation much from the alley, you emerged into a busy street and began wandering down the road. Progressing along the street, you could not help but take notice of the architecture and clothing surrounding you. Definitely not similar to the modern aesthetics you were used to. Flagging down an approachable looking woman and kid you asked what year it was, sharing peculiar look she confirmed your suspicions. It was July 24th 1962. Brilliant.

Trying hard not to think the worst of your situation, you mind wandered to Klaus. The two of you had hardly been apart for more than one night over the course of your year long relationship, your stomach dropped at the thought of him being isolated in a random time period, unable to contact anyone, nobody to help. A small part of you wished Ben was with him, but you were completely clueless as to how this whole time travel business worked. You attempted to brush that thought aside for the time being, first you had to find somewhere to stay. Sleeping rough with nothing but the clothes on your back did not sound appealing, luckily you had some spare cash in your bag for a room for a few days, giving you sometime to formulate a plan.

The first night was definitely the hardest. Deciding to find the cheapest hotel you could, you booked a room for the night, collecting the keys and collapsing on the mattress. As soon as you got into the uncomfortable bed you knew sleep would not come tonight, the double bed was not helping either. You spent the majority of the night on your side, laying there and glancing at the opposite side of the mattress, where he should be sleeping. It felt too empty without Klaus hogging the blanket. You couldn’t help the collection of memories the two of you shared popping into your mind. Lazy weekday nights, limbs draped absentmindedly over one another, Klaus’ hand tracing soft patterns into your shoulder as you talked about absolute nonsense for hours. Both dreading when the morning came as you would have to leave his arms. Growing up in Hargreeves’ mansion you would constantly sneak into his room, even before you were together. Your ability to turn invisible was a great help, coming to comfort him if your father pushed him too hard again was almost a nightly occurrence. You loved the way he would relax as soon as he felt you lift up the blanket and settle in next to him, knowing he wouldn’t have be alone.

You smiled at the thought of him, he always had to be close to you. Even in his sleep you caught him reaching for you sleepily or rolling his leg onto you in an attempt to pull you closer. You often wondered if he even knew he was doing it or if it was entirely subconscious. After everything he went through growing up it was no surprise he had clingy tendencies. You wouldn’t change him for anything, if he needed you close, you had no problem obliging him. If it made him feel safe you would do it.

It was at this point the tears started to fall. For someone who had been through so much to then be stuck somewhere, unable to reach you, made your heart ache. Tomorrow you would figure something out, however futile it may be, you were determined to at least try and make a life for yourself here.

3 Months Later:

The three months had not been easy, by any means. It had mainly consisted of you on the road, finding work pretty much wherever would take you. Getting the car you were currently driving was a feat in itself, stealing an automobile had never been on your bucket list. You never liked using your power to steal, however, it was your only mode of transport and occasional place to sleep. You always coaxed Klaus not to just take things, he would be shocked if he could see you now, the look on his face would be priceless! On the bright side, you could have picked a worse car, with five seats, a convertible roof and playable radio, you had risen in worse rides.

More memories surfaced in your mind, ones where you took Klaus out for a drive out of the city during the beginning of his sobriety. This started as an attempt to inject a new lust for life into him, show him there was more to the world than just powder in the back alleys. Soon your little road trip became a weekly occurrence, driving with Klaus and losing track of time, just each other for company. You loved him dearly but you both decided it would be more beneficial if you were the one behind the wheel, not that he cared, he was given full control of the music this way. He insisted on having the windows down and the music loud, staring at you with his pupils slightly dilated, feeling doped up on life rather than various pills. You loved how radiant he looked, you even let him get away with wailing along to the lyrics on the radio, at least for a while…

“Klaus, I love you, but I’m gonna need my eardrums in the future,”

“Yes, I’m aware. Why do you think I’m gracing them with my dulcet tones?”

You couldn’t help but jokingly glare at him. Once again he was never to far away from you, laughing and giving your thigh a squeeze as you watch the city disappear behind you, along with his worries.

Dragging yourself back to the present (well, 1962), you gripped the steering wheel, forcing yourself to focus on the road instead of the bittersweet memories you held. They were the only things you had left of him, and you hoped that wherever he was, he was safe.

You decided to return to the town where it all began, Dallas, Texas. You were in need of some new clothes and a quick bite to eat before you got back on the road, in search for another short-term job to earn some much needed cash. A second-hand shop would probably be the most budget friendly option for clothes, ringing the bell as you opened the door, you began to flick through the various fabrics and patterns of clothing. One of the things you loved about this decade was the flamboyant clothing, he would have thrived here. Gathering quite a large armful of clothes, you decided to go try a few on, just looking through your selection one last time before you committed to the changing room.

You were ripped from your thoughts by a loud thud on the window, resulting in you dropping the bundle of clothes you had accumulated during your browsing. Huffing and turning your attention to the window, ready for some kind of confrontation, although, nothing could be further from your assumption.

Your eyes met with the same hazel ones you had been gazing into for the last year, unmistakable hands with tattoos were firmly placed on the glass. His jaw was slack and his eyes were wide as he gawked through the glass. You began to shake as you drank in the sight of him, your chest tightened and you found it increasingly difficult to breathe. You wanted to run into his arms, but you weren’t sure if your legs would carry you. You couldn’t feel anything except the racing of you heart. Time seemed to still as you just stared at one another.

He was the first to break the gaze, tripping over himself in an attempt to reach the door. He forced the door open so forcefully that the bell nearly fell off, it didn’t stop him though. Running down the shopping aisle, pushing the racks aside as he continued towards you, knocking over a few clothing racks, not slowing down as he slammed into your open arms. The impact of the force sending the two of you tumbling to the ground, both of you gripping onto the other in fear they may disappear again. He could feel you shaking in his hold, overwhelmed with the entire situation, he kept his grip firm around you, letting you know that he is here and you are safe. He doesn’t plan on leaving you.

Finally managing to pull his face from the crook of your neck, you held his face in your hands, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. You weren’t aware you were crying until you felt his calloused hands brush away a stray tear from your cheek.

“It’s really you isn’t it?” You managed to choke out, you must have looked insane to the shopkeeper, both of you smiling and sobbing, curled up on his shop floor.

“Of course it’s me, nobody could recreate this amount of beauty and personality twice,” he joked and cracked a smile. That typical Klaus smile you missed so much. Even in a time like this, supposedly sentimental, he still had to get a wisecrack in.

“You’re such an idiot Klaus, only you could compliment yourself in a time like this,” you said, you weren’t sure if you were crying or laughing at this point, but you knew you were finally happy.

“I’ve had to do it myself for a while since you were absent,” he said, you couldn’t miss the subtle sadness that passed over his features.

“Come on then Y/N”, he groaned as he stood up, offering a hand to help you, “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You glanced up at him before you accepted his hand, his hair was longer than before and he looked healthier, but he was undeniably still your Klaus. You placed you hand in his and let him drag you up, resting his arm around your waist, slightly tighter than he used to. You allowed your head to rest on his shoulder, re-familiarising yourself with his body. The two of you definitely had a long conversation ahead, you allowed him to drag you to the nearest diner, excited to unburden yourselves after finally finding each other.

[a-wayne-at-heart-too]

The Robins as...

DICK:

If truth be told, he’s not that fond of being in the driver’s seat on these trips. After all, he’s usually the one who initiates them, and being at the wheel robs him of some bonding time with his siblings while in transit.

Tim: “Now, Simon says, try to reach the little toe of your left foot with the little finger of your right hand from the back --” 

Dick: *starts to do as Tim says*

BatRV: *swerves dangerously close to a cliff*

Jason: “Uh, you’re NOT PART OF THE GAME, DICKWAD!”

Dick: *regains control of the vehicle* “Whoops, sorry!”

Dick: *smirks* “You just don’t want me to win.”

Damian: “One of these days we’re leaving you at home, Grayson.”

His taste in music... Okay, it’s not that bad. Once in a while it’s even really good. But what drives everyone else restless is that his playlists are on repeat.

Damian: *in the passenger seat, reaching out for the console*

Dick: *wiggles his finger at Damian* “Uh uh uuuuh! You know the consequence of touching that dial.”

Damian: *retracts his hand and sulks* “-Tt- I’m not interested in your hour-long hugs.”

Dick: “Okay, that’s a teeny bit hurtful, Little D. But, guys, this stuff helps me stay awake. And since you’re not letting me join any of your games...”

Jason: *grabbing fistfuls of his own hair* “I swear, Goldie, one more ‘Livin’ La Vida Loca’ and I’m leavin’ this loco --”

Tim: *grabbing his backpack and his Bathoverboard* “Want me to come with you?”

Dick: *activates the Child Lock* “This is why you bring that hoverboard?”

>>>---<<<

JASON:

He might as well have coined the phrase “pedal to the metal” because when he’s at the wheel, you can expect the travel time to be cut by at least half (when it’s done properly, that is).

Dick: *sheepishly waving at the horrified cashier lady as he whispers to Jason* “When I said ‘Let’s drive-through’, this wasn’t what I meant, Jay...”

Damian: *shaking his head at what’s left of the wall at the Batburger drive-through lane* “Todd, remind me to thank you for delaying our vacation for at least another hour and a half.”

Jason: *revving up the engine* “Then maybe next time we don’t take the Batmonster truck when it’s my turn to drive, huh?”

Tim: *returns to the truck after speaking with the manager and grabs a checkbook from his backpack* “I hope Bruce likes owning a fast food chain.”

As much as he’s in a hurry when he’s driving to their destination, he sure takes his sweet time on the way back home. By then, everyone else is already worn out from all the fun they’ve had and he welcomes the peace that comes with it.

Dick: *in the backseat, snoring lightly*

Tim: *in the passenger seat, mumbling in his sleep*

Jason: *grins as he secretly admits to himself that trips like this were worth it, right before he notices the bloody roadkill in their path, which induces a flashback of -- *

Jason: *hits the brakes suddenly, causing the truck to jerk forward*

Dick: *shifts positions, then resumes snoring*

Tim: *wipes slobber off his face, then remains unconscious* 

Damian: “Todd.”

Jason: *breathing heavily* “Damian? You’re up?”

Damian: “I haven’t slept.”

Jason: “Well, it’s still a long way out, little buddy. Go to sleep.”

Damian: “Perhaps... you could use the company.”

Jason: “... Okay.”

Damian: “Okay.”

>>>---<<<

TIM:

Backseat driver. Literally.

Jason: *staring at the self-steering wheel in front of him, frowning* “So... What am I supposed to do here, Timbo?”

Tim: *reclining the backseat until his legs are up, then puts his hands behind his head as he relaxes into it* “Nothing. That’s the beauty of it.”

Dick: *shaking his head, amused* “You’re no fun.”

Tim: *sips coffee from his guzzler helmet* “Oh, yeah? Activate ‘Mask of Zorro’ protocol. Code 1940.”

Windshield: *morphs into a projection screen and starts playing a movie* 

Damian: “Perhaps you're not totally useless after all, Drake.”

He doesn’t “text and drive”. Oh, goodness, no... That’d be too easy. (Also, his concept of a “vacation” is a bit muddled.)

Tim [speaking into the Bluetooth headset]: “No, Lucius, I totally get that, but if LexCorp stock were to plummet --” *rattles on in corporate jargon as he navigates through a myriad of encrypted folders on his laptop (which is expertly balanced on the dashboard) with one hand and steers the BatSUV with the other*

Damian: *in the passenger seat, gesturing to Tim* “Pennyworth repeatedly brings up that one time I read an urgent text message from Superboy while driving and he gets away with this behavior?”

Dick: “First of all, technically, you shouldn’t even be driving yet. And, secondly, trust me, Tim’s gonna have his day in court with Alfred.”

Tim: “Hack into it? You’re asking me if I can hack into Luthor’s system?” *turns on his hologram projector, which instantly generates a virtual map of the entire LexCorp database* “Do robins fly --” *pauses, then nods his head slowly and shuts off the projector* “Oh... You’re telling me I shouldn’t do that. Got it.”

Jason: *grabs a handful of popcorn from a bowl before passing it to Dick, who’s in the backseat with him* “Why doesn’t he just activate that autopilot crap again?” 

Dick: *shrugs* “Boy Wonder loves a challenge.”

>>>---<<< 

DAMIAN: 

Sure, he drives. But only when they’ve gotten at least fifty miles away from Bruce and Alfred and have ensured that all tracking devices have been disabled (at least to the best of their knowledge).

Damian: *frantically searching the Batcampervan while they’re parked at an abandoned gas station in the middle of nowhere* “Where are those boots --” *looks up to see Jason holding them above his head* “Todd, you piece of $#^% --”

Dick: “Hey. Language.”

Damian: “You’d rather I break Todd’s bones, Grayson?”

Jason: *smirks* “Say you’re the mediocre Robin and I’ll give them back.”

Tim: *sniggers* “Oh, what’s the matter, tiny bird? Can’t reach the pedals without them?”

Damian: *clenching his fists* “When I’m through with the both of you, you’ll have those pedals jammed down your --”

Dick: *checks his watch and sighs* “That’s enough, guys. Let Damian drive. It's his turn. And we’re running late.”

And since he also inherited his father’s “drama queen gene"...

Tim: *staring at the clouds through a window in the Batjet* “What part of road trip didn’t you get, brat?”

Damian: “You’re free to jump off at any time, Drake. I’ll even open the hatch for you.”

Dick: “Bruce is gonna pop a vein when he finds out this thing’s missing from the Batcave, but I have to say... Not bad, Little D.”

Tim: *rolls his eyes* “Because you wanna jump.”

Dick: *smirks as he adjusts his jumpsuit and puts on goggles* “Because I wanna jump.”

Jason: *strapping on a parachute* “Man, I don’t remember the last time we did this just for fun, and not for ‘justice’ or whatever. Now, open that hatch, baby!”

Damian: *with smug grin on his face* “Say I’m the excellent Robin and I’ll open it.”

>>>---<<<

Hey, @nocanonhere​, I’m sorry it took a while for me to answer this Ask. It was honestly a fun suggestion. Thank  you!

P.S. While it did occur to me to feature other Batfamily members (since I love the idea of them being on family trips), my sleep-deprived brain cells only had enough energy to focus on these four. I’m hoping to expound on this idea someday soon, though.

[shaydeoffical]

Glass Slipper Malfunctions: Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

Summary: Y/n's Halloween Costume Breaks at a party, and they call their best friend to come help them. Thing's don't go as they planned, and now there's something more than friendship brewing. 

Author’s Note: This is part of a collaborative hosted by @pluviophile-imagines for the fall season. I was so happy to be a part of this amazing collection of works. Please go check out the other’s!!! 

Warnings: Mentions of fake blood, riding in a car.

Words: 2.4k

Sweater Weather Collab

Glass Slipper Malfunctions

"(Y/n), if you swirl that cup any faster, there'll be no punch left." Toga flicked my forehead. We were on the second floor of Dabi's house. His father was out of town, and he decided to go all out for Halloween. Smoke machines led lights, streamers, and even some graffiti over the fireplace, no corner was lacking a spooky decoration.

"I'm sorry, I just wish Shinso hadn't bailed", I admitted, downing what was left in the solo cup. Music was blaring all across the house, but I could tell she heard me when her smile faltered.

"You don't need him (Y/n), he's holding you back from having fun. He's always so serious and grumpy." Her costume was a bloody nurse, with rips in tears in all the right places. Leaning into me, she used her stethoscope to listen to my chest, tapping the instrument to the rhythm. "Yup, your heart's working just fine. Don't look so upset, come on, let's dance."

"Toga, don't pull so hard." I dragged my heels behind her, barely keeping up with her pace. Knocking people out of our way, she took the stairs two at a time.

We had been dancing for the last two hours, and I was already low on stamina and bloated from the punch. While running, I tossed my cup into the overflowing trash, missing it by a good few feet. As if my luck could get any worse, the liquid soaked into the floor. Dabi was okay ruining his family home, but I wasn't.

"If you don't smile, I'm going to do something drastic." Toga spun me around and dipped me as the music dropped. Alcohol, sweat, and a faint hint of blood filled the air, making my stomach begin to churn even more.

"I feel kind of woozy," I clutched to her shoulder, but she continued to swirl around the room and rock us back and forth.

"Everybody, gather round! Midnight is almost upon! I'm glad you-" Dabi got everyone's attention, drawing in a crowd around him.

"Come on, you're not being very fun." Toga ignored Dabi, and we moved to the back of the crowd. Still moving to the music, she let me go mild spin. I fell back, my heel snapped as I tried to catch myself. My dress caught on my other shot, ripping the strap holding it up. Landing on my ass, I pushed the hair from my face. My ribbon was lost in the crowd. In a moment of realization, I covered my chest, trying to get to my feet. With my dress pulled back up, no one had seen my trip; I just needed to get fixed back up.

"Toga, I-"She was gone. Clutching my thin paper costume between my hands, I kicked off my shoes, darting through the crowd to the bathroom. I had never been so thankful for a speech, fog machine, and laser lights in my entire life.  

Making it to the bathroom, I locked the door and looked in the mirror. My makeup had slid out of place, my hair was a tangled mess from the bun I initially had it in. The 'glass', slippers were now scuffed, and one heel was missing. My dress straps had broke beyond repair, and I was in desperate need of a backup costume.

Sitting on the toilet, I pulled out my phone, zoning in on my lock screen. It was Shinso holding up his kitten. I could see his head just poking into the frame. His dazzling smile causing one to spread on my own face. I don't know how I got to be in this bathroom to start with.

Everything had been planned down to a T. Shinso, and I would dress as Cinderella and Lucifer for the party. We'd get in the horse-drawn carriage I rented, at eight, and then arrive at the party by eight-thirty. Shinso would find a nice corner to sit and read, while I danced the night away looking for my Princess Charming. Toga and I would drink it up and bask in the full moon. At the end of the party, Shinso would be our D.D and take us home in Toga's car. It was simple enough. Thinking back, I didn't really take into consideration how Shinso felt about it. Well, I kind of knew how he would felt about being Lucifer instead of Prince Charming, but I thought he'd be okay with it. Then there was the other issue...

It wasn't a secrete he didn't like my new friend Toga. He tried to keep that opinion to himself, but it all spilled out last week. I knew changing our Halloween ritual from watching movies to a party with strangers would upset him. I just thought he'd go along with it for me. Or maybe I hoped he'd go along with it. I wanted to respect his boundaries, but he and Toga were so jealous of each other that it was hard to see either of them.

If there was one thing that clear now, Toga was willing to leave me for the wolfs. Pulling up Shinso's contact, I knew I was going to need to grovel a little. He was already waiting to be my D.D, but I needed a little something else now.

Y/n: Heyyyy, I need some help.

Fuzz Ball: Are you okay? I'm on my way

Y/n: I'm fine. My costume broke and I'm stuck in the bathroom.

Fuzz Ball: Can't Toga help you?

Y/n: She sort of, ran off and I'm… I don't know. I'm confused, I can't go back out there like this and I feel really guilty about ditching you.

Fuzz Ball: You are allowed to hang with your other friends without feeling guilty,

Y/n: I know, but I hate that you two don't like each other. I shouldn't have invited you and upset you.

Fuzz Ball: I'm not upset, I was sad. But I agree to be D.D, I shouldn't have back out last minute.

Fuzz Ball: I'll be there, I have a plan.

Y/n: What did I do to deserve you?

Fuzz Ball: You offered to do my history assignment in exchange for me doing your math.

Y/n: Right, seems like a fair trade. Also, don't you dare text and drive.

Fuzz Ball: I'm using the text to speech feature, I'm almost there.

Y/n: Someone's knocking on the door, ahhh. I'm on the first floor and to the right. There's a little hallway, and that's where the bathroom is.

Sinking back onto the commode, I relaxed my shoulders. Shinso was on his way to rescue me. I guess between my two friends, Shinso was the loyal one. Toga did seem flighty, but tonight was ridiculous. She had to see me fall and just walk away...that was an issue for another time.

At least I got all the dancing and drinking done that I wanted too. It was time to go home and convince Shinso to put on some scary movies and call it even.

There was a steady knock on the door, a familiar pattern that Shinso always used when sneaking to my window late a night. I flung the door open, and he dove into the room, carrying an orange trash bag filled with something. His black cat ears were perched on his head, a long fluffy tail wrapped around his waist. So much for us matching now.

"I love you, man," I hugged him tight, unsteady on my feet. He steadied me, and returned my bear hug.

"Thank me later, let's get out of here. There's so much weed in the air, I won't be able to pass a breathalyzer if we don't haul ass." He handed me the bag and pulled flip flops from his back pocket.

"You're telling me. I sobered up after tripping, but it's been a wild night., Anyway, I'm really eternally grateful- Shinso, why are there leaves in this trash bag?"

"It is a costume party, right? I thought you'd want to blend in." He wiggled his brow, the obscene cat makeup adding to his smug idea.

"I take back what I said about loving you." Laughing, I ripped two holes in the bottom of the bag and stepped in. Getting it to my neck, Shinso tied it, and I poked my arms out, the leaves itching my skin. "It works.

"You look cute." He smoothed my hair before opening the door. A line had formed, and we received death glares from the party-goers that were making some assumptions. "Let's get out of here."

"Well, I guess the carriage does turn back into a pumpkin at the end of the night, it's fitting." I sighed; the party was still in full swing. Shinso didn't let go of my hand as he parted the sea of people. My legs crunching the leaves as we walked. No doubt, I was leaving a leaf sprinkle trail in my wake.

"Is that a costume change I see?" Toga caught the other end of my hand. Her friend Twice was right behind her, carrying their drinks.

"I'm glad I ran into you. I'm headed home early. Can you find a D.D?" I asked her, the music-making my ears throb. Through the changing lights, I saw her grip her chin before smiling.

"I can just crash here. And be careful with Mr. Grumpy pants." She leaned around me to lock eyes with Shinso. "Aww, is the kitty cat upset?" She clawed at the air before turning tail to move along.

"She took it better than I thought." He sighed, finally reaching the door.

The cold air wrapped around my legs, sending a chill up my spine. The moon illuminated the street, and all the children had returned home to get a sugar high before bed. If music wasn't spilling out of the house, like a heartbeat in my ears. Shinso's car was in the middle of the street, emergency lights flashing, and the door still agape.

"You really rushed in like my knight in shining armor." Getting in the passenger side, I hugged my bag close as Shinso shut the door. He walked around the front and got in, turning off the emergency lights.

"Why can't I be your Prince Charming?" He took off down the road to my rental house. I hadn't been living on my own for long, but he already knew the road by heart. Even I still had to use my GPS. "Cat got your tongue?"  

"No, yet." I giggled, focusing on his lips. Swallowing hard, tension began to build between us. We both an impeccable communication skills, but there was something neither one of us was willing to outright say.

"Is someone being a bad pumpkin tonight?" He shook the bag, and I smacked his hand away. His smile was enough to make my heart race.  

"Yea, I guess I am a bad pumpkin." I leaned into my knees, trusting Shinso not to break so fast I bump my head.

"You can cry if you need too. Teasing you is one of my favorite past times, but I know you're upset."

"I know you like me." I pushed my hair back. "And the reason I didn't let you dress as Prince Charming is… I don't know. When I was at that party, I just kept thinking about us watching horror movies and eating way too much caramel popcorn. How we'd fall asleep next to year other and wake up for a mid-afternoon bike ride through the town before everyone takes down their decorations. And we can still do one half of that tradition if I avoid a hanger over."

"You didn't want me to be your prince charming because we have basically been dating the past two years, without ever getting into the physical side?" He pulled onto a back road and stopped at a spot that had the perfect view of the moon.

"I knew what you were hinting at when you asked to be Prince Charming. But I was afraid I didn't understand your hint, and then I was afraid someone would ask if we were dating and if you said no… I'd be sad. And it was a mess." I fiddled with the drawstring on the bag, not looking at him.

"I'll just say it. I like you, I like spending time with you. We've been friends for half of our lives, but I know we've had something special going on for a while now. I was afraid to ruin what we had, but I can't play it safe anymore. (Y/n) please look at me." I raised my eyes, his hand cupping my chin. "There's a few more hours left before the sun comes up. How about we go home, watch some movies and make out?" My skin heated up, blood rushing to my brain to keep it in operation.

"Bold of you to assume I don't want a kiss right now." I shifted to face him, a leaf ticking my side.

"I'm sorry, your majesty." He leaned forward, our lips latching onto each other like magnets. A wolf hollowed in the distance, and a cloud pasted at just the right time to illuminate the car. I took fistfuls of his black shirt and held him close. It was slow at first, but it heated up as I inched over the car console. We separated for breath, and I settled into my seat.

"Don't be sorry." I giggled, sitting back in my seat and wiping the black lipstick from my mouth. "Why'd we wait so long?"

"I don't know. But I regret it." He reversed from our spot on the hill and got back on the main road. "Let's get home and makeup time."

"So in the end, the winning combination is a broken plastic shoe, Lucifer, and a magic pumpkin. You know, Prince Charming and Cinderella are so mainstream. This was the better outcome, anyway." I kicked my swollen feet on his dash. "But I could get used to 'Your Majesty"; it has a nice ring to it." I tickled under Hitoshi's chin, his stubble pricking my fingers.

"Out of everything I just said, that's what you're holding on to?" He pulled into my house.

"Yup." I popped the p, and got out. "Race to the couch, let's start with Coraline."

"As you wish." He shook his head, chasing after me anyway. It wasn't what I planned for, but I was happy. I guess having my costume break was the best possible outcome for the night. We curled up on the couch, and a sense of peace washed over me. Nothing had ever felt so right.  

[catstrophysics-fics]

Been a while since I posted something here. Dean/Cas, 2k, domestic and written in one sitting. Likes, comments, and reblogs WILDLY appreciated! It wasn’t dark at night in the city. Streetlights glowed orange, marking every 100 feet with soldier’s precision—guards never present along backroads and country highways. Buildings adorned with neon signs lined the street, marketing “OPEN” or “VACANCY” or any of the thousand other possibilities for a storefront. Even the horizon shone, light pollution leaching into the night sky unlike anything he’d see among the trees. It wasn’t dark at night, and the Impala’s headlights barely showed against the road.

Sam was home, keeping tabs on Eileen as she hunted down a siren that only targeted men, leaving Dean and Castiel to sort out wrapping up a case in Nowhere, USA. The case was an easy finish: exorcise a demon, salt the doors and windows afterwards, and check the perimeter for anything else dodgy. Then they were alone downtown, and for the first time in too long they had a night to themselves. They started with the basics. Take Baby to a gas station, fill her up and clean the mud (and blood) off of her chrome, then Rain-X the windshields. Stop by the most middle-of-the-road all-night diner they could find, Dean slipping off his overcoat in the car before they went in. He ordered a burger, same as always. Castiel sat across from him in the cramped linoleum booth, same as always. The persistent shake in his leg had slowed to an occasional bounce, and he stretched out both feet under the booth, barely mustering the care to flinch away when he knocked into Castiel’s legs. For a split second he considered apologizing, but when Castiel nabbed a fry off of his plate—he didn’t need to eat, but Dean had long since learned he’d snag bites of food when he felt really happy—he called it even and let his knee rest softly against the side of Castiel’s. Dean ate slowly. Castiel watched. The streetlights outside flickered every handful of minutes, a reminder that time passed even as they sat nearly motionless. He snagged another fry, and this time Dean batted at his thieving fingers with his free hand. That’s mine, his initial look said, but with a cocked eyebrow and half of a sideways smile he relented (as always; so it had been, so it always would be). They finished eating, talking of anything but hunting. I don’t understand why we need to sleep here tonight, Cas had said, met by Dean’s reciprocal I need sleep, and you’re not driving. Never mind that Castiel could drive perfectly well, save for when a truck swerved into his lane and the stereo turned on full blast, or when bouts of road rage would pop tires off of cars in front of him. Aside from incidents like that, he was a good driver, patient in a way Dean assumed came with millennia of watching time come and go. Dean paid, tipping 20% and rounding up to the nearest whole number, some remnant of John and Mary discussing credit card bills and adding them up themselves hanging over from his childhood. They stood, neither acknowledging that they’d been separated only by the fabric of their pants moments before, and Dean held the door on their way out, giving the restaurant one last once-over (for black eyes, glowing blue eyes, and a glance for silver eyes on the monitor over the door). The Impala glistened in the night, chrome freshly wiped and windshields free of the dirt of miles. Absently, Dean checked his watch, more of a habit than anything, and Castiel cocked his head inquiringly. Dean flipped his hand over, showing an upside-down 10:32, and they got in the car with a thunk of the locks shifting. The engine turned over with Dean’s key, and the radio crackled back to life, playing one of Led Zeppelin’s lesser-known songs softly. By some unspoken mutual agreement, they drove aimlessly. The city was nice, Dean thought, small enough to be beneath the notice of big box chain stores and big enough to have infrastructure they didn’t run into most places. A few nice houses scattered around, painted murals on the sides of strip malls, and straggly if well-kept medians. A swath of dark green appeared up the road, and without turning his head he could feel Castiel looking at him hopefully, a question hanging in the air like static electricity. Dean turned on the blinker, and a sense of satisfaction permeated the front seat. The park was nice. The whole city, really, was nice, Dean thought. Well-proportioned. Cas seemed to like it, too, it seemed, as he walked a few feet ahead not by any conscious thought; Dean just preferred to hang back and watch him, sometimes. Turn the tables a little, see him when he’s off guard and full of wonder even after all his years on

Earth. They wandered without direction, taking the first path they saw before breaking off to follow tiny train tracks for a spell, Castiel walking carefully between the ties and Dean balancing haphazardly on the rails themselves. A few dozen yards into their balancing act, Castiel tripped, and without thinking Dean caught him around the forearm, holding him steady until he regained his footing. Unlike back home, when they’d limit touching to necessities such as healing or spellwork, Castiel didn’t seem inclined to shake Dean off, and Dean didn’t let go, sliding his hand down to rest closer to Castiel’s as though it were the most natural thing in the world. They carried on, tracks now running between them The train tracks ended abruptly with a miniature “STOP!” sign before opening up into a paved pavilion with a pool in the middle, bubbling softly. Castiel paused, hand slipping out of Dean’s as he looked around slowly, eyes aglow not from within but from the reflections of the lights around the pavilion off of the water. Dean stepped up beside him, careful not to break whatever spell seemed to have come over him in the pavilion. “Y’know,” he said, hearing his words bounce back off of the white stone, “I could teach you how to dance.” Castiel turned to him slowly, surprised at first before his expression settled into something softer. Dean felt his cheeks heat, conversations late at night in motel rooms slipping back into his mind. “You’d said you wanted to learn, and Sonny made all of us boys go to cotillion at least once.” He cracked a grin, and Castiel’s lips responded reflexively. “I can waltz like nobody’s business.” For a split second it looked like he was going to refuse, carefully place another layer of brick between whatever forbidden hands reached out between them. Then he stepped forward off the end of the track, coat swishing, and waited expectantly. Frankly, Dean had expected him to decline. Angels weren’t known to dance except on the heads of pins. But it was Cas, standing in the center of the pavilion a few feet from the water’s edge, head cocked as he waited. Dean took a moment to remember, thinking back to teenage him in a scratchy shirt and too-tight bowtie and the one-two-three step he’d committed to muscle memory years ago in a school gym, rattly classical music playing over the PA system as he laughed and flirted carelessly with whatever girl he danced with that night. The steps had never left him, though faces and memories did, and he flipped through the songs he’d since learned he could waltz to. Castiel stood waiting, stiff in the shoulders and watching his every move expectantly. Dean stepped closer, feeling the familiar electric hum that came with proximity to him and a matching buzz hum through his veins. Gently—he pegged the emotion pounding in his chest as nervousness, and butterflies fluttered to life in his stomach to accompany—he moved their hands into place, one around Cas’s waist resting low near his hips, Cas’s right hand on Dean’s left shoulder. Just like always, his fingers tingled when they brushed over the raised scar, and Dean smiled quietly to himself as he interlocked their hands, the easiest motion in the world. “It’s just one-two-three,” Dean said, taking tiny steps of his own to demonstrate. “We’re set up like you’re leading”—because I want your hand on my shoulder, because I want to feel you under my fingertips—“because you’ve got two left feet, and it’s a little easier to start going forward first.” He paused, flexing his fingers in the fabric of Castiel’s coat. “I’ll lead, though, just follow me.” Castiel nodded, and Dean couldn’t help the smile that broke through his nerves. Clearing his throat, he started to hum the opening of his favorite waltz song, holding eye contact with Castiel as they started to move. I put a spell on you Because you’re mine Even wordlessly, he saw recognition spark in Castiel’s eyes, and the happy, comforting buzz of his presence turned up a few notches as they began to move, Dean guiding them backwards in

spiralling circles around the fountain as he hummed through the rest of the song, watching enraptured as the light changed and shifted around them, always seeming to glint an otherworldly blue from Cas’s eyes. I just can't stand it, babe Castiel was relaxing, pulling Dean near-imperceptible millimeters closer with each turn, and Dean let himself be drawn in, magnetic until they were nearly pressed up one another in the glow of the fountain. Because you’re mine. Dean held out the last note for a few moments, still staring intently at Castiel who seemed breathless despite needing no air. A surge of joy rushed through his chest, and he leaned in the few inches between their lips and pressed a quick, happy kiss to the corner of his lips. Behind him, the fountain burst out a geyser of water that cleared the treetops as the backlight in the water flickered to black. The water came raining down on them, still holding each other from dancing, drenching Castiel’s coat and plastering Dean’s hair to his head. They stood frozen for moments, the din of traffic in the distance audible for the first time, and Castiel’s eyes got wider and wider, fear creeping in at the edges until Dean burst out laughing, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Castiel’s shoulder. Slowly, the tension dissipated from his shoulders and he breaks into quiet giggles, starting soft and low and escalating in seconds into the same body-shaking laughter Dean trembled with, both of them tapering to the end of a bout before catching it back from the other. The fountain behind them had returned to normal, the only signs anything had happened the puddle of water surrounding it and the broken, dark bulb underneath. They drew apart slightly, aftershocks of laughter still coursing through them in tandem with adrenaline. “To avoid further municipal catastrophes,” Dean began, before collapsing into another bout of giggles as Castiel squeezed his hand, “I’m giving you advance warning this time: I’m going to kiss you again.” Castiel’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he didn’t give Dean time to lean in before his lips were on Dean’s, wet from fountain water and warm from laughter, and Dean didn’t mind the static shocks passing between their hands and radiating out in all directions from Castiel. They followed the train tracks back to the main path, leaving wet shoe prints behind and a line of drips gathering underneath their joined hands. “Grab the towels from the back,” Dean said as they reached the car. “We’re not dripping all over Baby like this.” It wasn’t dark at all in the city as they drove to the cheapest motel on the edge of town, Dean driving left-handed as he stroked over Cas’s thumb. He parked, got out their only bag (a change of clothes apiece, and a handful of weapons just in case), and his voice didn’t waver at all as he asked for a room with just one bed.

[jaeminscoffee]

Ineffable.

Ineffable - Too great to be expressed in words.

Pairing - Lee Taeyong x reader

Genre- Pure fluff!

Word count- 2.58k

Warnings- None but please let me know if THIS amount of fluff is cringe or not kselkkd. Also, I'm sorry if this story's dissapointing, my health hasn't been the best so if the storylines not good, let me know :)

Summary- All it took was a couple of smack on his head, water splashed onto his face and being called friend on the first date for him to step out of his comfort zone and confess to you.

You and Taeyong had a really complicated relationship. If you could call it one. 

You're neither friends, nor enemies, neither were you dating. You wish you were but no. 

But still at the end, the two of you always end up paired together, be it projects, going for business trips, being promoted together, you'd basically seen him all day. So it was obvious the two of you spoke. 

Well, you spoke, he'd listen, giggle at your talks, and then say a sentence or two max. You guys would be what people other than your friend group called acquaintances.

Anyone with eyesight would know immediately that you're head over heels for the lad. You made it a little too obvious. Always talking frantically around him, your heart flutters when you hear him laugh, his presence in all just made you giddy. And so you'd always been happy when he'd be paired up with you in everything. 

Your friends basically divided themselves into two groups. One that supported you and pushed you to go confess your love for him, the other being one who ridiculed you for loving a guy that they thought would never like you back. 

On the other hand, Taeyong was just shy. 

Your bubbly persona overwhelmed him. Of course he liked you too, he just needed one smack at the back of his head. Or not because his friends have done it way too many times, yet here he is, just daydreaming scenarios of what he'd do for you if the two of you dated resulting in him not talking much. 

So when Yuta, his friend, poured the tiniest amount of water onto his face and yelled 'BOOMER' at him, he thought it's finally time to make a move. 

A hangout. Exactly what the two of you needed. 

Break time had come to an end, you were walking with Luna to your cabin, when you crossed paths with Taeyong, who was indulged in a conversation with Johnny, another one of his friends from the same department as the two of you. 

"Oh boy, here we go again" Luna spoke from beside you. You look at her, confusion spread all over your face. "huh?" she let out a chuckle, shaking her head, "You've been staring at him long enough for him to look back at you-" she pointed at the direction where Taeyong and Johnny stood with her head, as you turn around to look at him "-but you were so busy devouring his existence to realize that", He waved at you, which you did back but then turned back at Luna, flustered. 

She looked behind you gesturing something to either Johnny or Taeyong, then turned you around and pushed you towards where the boys were, Johnny doing the same with Taeyong as both your bodies collided, gently, but hard enough to send the two of you stumbling back a few steps. 

You hear the other two laugh and walk away, you turn back to send a glare at your friend, but ended up landing on Johnny who winked to that. 

You face your crush, "Hey" you tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ears. He sent you a smile and nodded his head, greeting back. 

"How's your day so far?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow in anticipation. "It's been good, tiring but doable" he ended the answer. Your shoulder slouch down as his answer again ended in a sentence. "What about you? How's yours going" you look up, caught off guard, since this was the first time he's ever asked a question back. 

Okay that's an exaggeration, he did ask questions, but that was a rare occasion. 

"It's good! Tressa spilled her coffee over her documents which got Mr.Kim extremely mad, i finished the final task just a few minutes before break, i was just going to gather my things and head out" you smile radiantly. He smiled at your excitement of finally getting off of work.

There was a second of silence, this time Taeyong being the one breaking it. 

"Could you wait for just a little while? I'm almost done too, so we can head out together" he asked, fidgeting with his hands, a habit he has that comes out of nervousness "If that's too much of a hassle you could go now that's fine too!-" he quickly added after seeing your eyes widen. 

You interrupt, waving your hands in the air in quick motions, shaking your head," No no! It isn't, i could wait" you smile at him, which he returned back with equal enthusiasm. 

-

No longer than 10 minutes later, you and Taeyong made your way towards the elevator, him initiating small talks every now and then, asking questions about you, to which you gave long answers for. 

"-and then Lisa just threw up on him because of how much booze was in her system" you end your story from last Saturday, Taeyong let out a hearty laugh at the ending, sending warmth streaming all through your nerves. 

The door opened at the basement, where his car was parked, "Oh? I took the bus today,I sent my car for servicing yesterday " you say, stepping out. "That's fine! I could drive you" he offered. 

"No no! That'll be a trouble for you! I could just take the bus-" "Please. I'll kidnap you if I have to, if that means you'll ride with me" Taeyong said, smiling widely at you. You giggle at his words, feeling heat rush up your cheeks, as you cup your face to reduce the heat. 

"Alright no need to involve kidnapping here" you say making your way towards his car alongside him. 

Okay Okay Taeyong, be outgoing. Fun to be around. Ask questions. This your chance. 

"Welcome aboard" He said, the second you stepped into the passenger's seat, you laughed at his antics, reaching out to fasten the seat belt. Taeyong beat you to it, reaching over across your body, tugging at the seat belt and fastening it. 

The proximity had blood rush up your cheeks once again, damn it. 

"Safety first!" he said wearing his own seatbelt, starting the car, pulling out of his parking space and out of the basement. 

Once you were away from the building of your work space, you turn to the side looking at Taeyong's side profile, admiring the way the street lights shone upon his face,highlighting the scar on the right side of his face, he's perfect, no doubt. But this slight scar proved he was too, nothing more than just a human. The grip he had on the steering wheel made the veins on his hands more prominent. "So Tae-" "-Y/n" you start at the same time, "Oh you go first" you say quickly, knowing that if you'd stay there admiring Taeyong he'd probably ask you to go first. 

"There's this really good restaurant by the corner in just two minutes and it's really late, so, wanna go grab dinner together?" he said in a breath, looking at you for a split second before turning his focus back onto the road. 

"Oh sure! If though, either you let me pay or we share the bill" you reply excitedly, smiling at the fact that you'd get to spend more time with him. 

"No? Come on, let me pay for the first date-" he stopped abruptly as you look at him with wide eyes, "date.. I like the sound of that" you let out a chuckle as you see him gulp down.

The rest of the car ride, you spoke back and forth, Taeyong replied much better than how he'd used to, you two even jammed to some of the radio music together, eventually pulling over in front of the restaurant Taeyong wanted to take you to.

"Korean barbecue? How did you know I was craving it?" you say, removing the belt and turning towards the driver's seat, to see no Taeyong. 

You jump when the door of your side opens, Taeyong standing there with his hands out, offering it to you. You hit his palm at the extremely cliché action, then held it and stepped out of the car. "Because it's Saturday and everyone craves it on the weekends, now let's go!" he pulled you out of the seat, slamming the door shut and jogging towards the restaurant as you laughed at his sudden bubbliness.

The two of you went and took a seat at the end of the restaurant, it wasn't anything too posh, but it wasn't not too plain either, it was cozy. Taeyong removed his coat and hung it on his chair. And then hurried over to your side and pulled your chair out, you smack his shoulder, to which he grinned and made his way back to his seat. 

"What do you want to eat?" he asked, looking at the menu. 

"The classic, wouldn't want to add any other flavor to the classic" you reply back, looking at the names of different delicacies written on the card, not noticing Taeyong look at you. It's when you set the menu card down that you notice his gaze. You feel yourself starting to blush for the nth time that night. This is the impact Lee Taeyong has on you. One gaze is all it takes and you're completely melted. 

The waiter came in minutes later, took your orders and went back, you just waited, having common talks with the boy in front of you, sometimes drifting into your subspace, maybe fangirling over him way too much from time to time.

"Oh oh I got another one, do you know why Hershey chocolate closed down?" he asked. 

One thing you found out about him is that he's a sucker for pick up lines. "because I'm too sweet?" you giggle as you see a frown forming up on his features "come on, yong, that's a classic try again." 

"Unfair! Even if you know the answer you shouldn't say it!" he whined out, messing his hair, you laughed out loud at how cute he looked and sounded, drawing a few eyes onto the table, which neither of you paid attention to, Taeyong joining along with you with his tiny giggles. 

The food arrived, and you dig in immediately, earning a chuckle from Taeyong as you stuff your cheeks. 

You looked cute.

"Alright this is a tough one, are you my appendix?" he asked, gulping down a decent amount of food. 

"clearly not? why?" you reply, voice coming out muffled. 

"because i have a funny feeling in my stomach that makes me feel like i should take you out" he said, looking at you intently. You start choking due to his reply, to which Taeyong laughed out loud, calming himself, leaning forward to pat the top of your head and pushing your water glass at you.

"Taeyong what in the name of heaven even!" you ask, now you lean forward to hit him as he started laughing again. 

"Hey admit it, that was a good one!" he said, looking at you with his eyes wide as you kept hitting him. 

"Whatever. Eat" You chuckle and turn back to your food, the blood most probably clot on your cheeks through the entirety of the night. 

The both of you finish, getting up from your seats as Taeyong gestured you to wait for him by the entrance. 

He paid for the food, and made his way back to you, with two fruit Popsicles in his hand. 

He handed one over to you, and started walking the opposite direction from where his car was parked. "Yong, it's this way-" you say, standing in the same place. "I know" he simply replied, stopping and turning back around to look at you. "Come on hurry, follow me!" he said and started walking again. You jog to catch up with him. 

You walk in silence for ten minutes, eating the Popsicle he'd bought, shoulder's sometimes brushing past each other. 

"We're here!" he said excitedly, you look up from your feet and stare at whatever Taeyong was looking at, eyes immediately lighting up as you see the calm waters of the river in front of you. 

"Beautiful, right?" he asked, smiling at you as your eyes stayed fixed at the scenery in front of you. 

You hum in agreement, walking towards the railing to get a closer look, Taeyong following suit. 

"Thank you" you said, all of a sudden. 

"Hm? For?" he asked, confused. "Today, it was fun! I guess we can call ourselves friends now right??" you ask, taking your eyes off the river and turning to look at the boy. 

Come on Taeyong, this is your chance. 

"Y/n." he started, you look at him with your eyebrows raised. 

"Friend's is so far off from what you really are to me, Y/n" he said, letting out a sigh and turning to face the river. 

"What do you mean?" you knew exactly what he meant. You felt your heart flutter, beating a little faster than normal, if he would back out now, you'll take a step forward. 

"Oh god how do i do this, I- just.. Okay listen, i like you okay? I really really like you" he said fast, turning to look at you this time. "I thought I made it obvious? How didn't you get even the slightest of hints if my feelings for you?" he said, his eyes furrowed.

"Because, honey you never made it obvious, if anything, you looked like you had no interest in talking to me" you said, laughing and stepping forward, feeling your stomach churn in weird ways, the muscles of your face, starting to hurt from how widely you were smiling. 

"don't mind that! I'm just-just usually like that around everyone-"

"I like you too" you cut him off, stepping forward to get a little closer to the boy.

"-and i felt like, wait what?" he stopped, looking at you with wide eyes. 

"i said i like you too! I think, in fact, I'm in love with you. A little too much" you add, seeing a red hue take over Taeyong's face, as he temporarily looked down, and back at you the shocked expression replaced by an extremely wide smile. 

You two just stared at each other, Taeyong stepping forward with a questioning look on his face.

"Can i kiss you?" he asked, his voice tiny. You laugh in content, and instead of answering him, you walk closer to him, standing on your toes, placing a soft peck on his lips. 

Taeyong let out a chain of giggles, leaning forwards and capturing your lips again, hands going around your waist, yours finding its way around his neck as the two of you smile into the kiss. 

He pulled away first, looking at you with a loving look.

"So i can call you mine from today right?" he asked, his eyes shimmering in the twilight. 

"Only if you tell me one of the best pick up lines you've got" you reply, crossing your arms over your chest watching Taeyong mumble out a 'you know it' and step back, looking you up and down, placing a hand under his chin. 

"I-...damn, I'm sorry you're so beautiful you made me forget my pick up line" he said, looking straight into your eyes.

"Ew Tae, you are such a cheesy man" you say, taking large steps towards him. He reached out to you, snaking his hands around your waist placing another soft kiss on your lips.

"I'm your cheesy man"

[huearmy]

The Smell of Truth - II

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 3291

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: N/A.  Jungkook continues to be just a cute pie here ok dont touch me.

Chapter I  -  Chapter III  Chapter IV  Chapter V  Chapter VI Chapter VII

You have always been enchanted by hybrids. You grew up surrounded by them, they were friends and family. Literally. For exemple, your favorite uncle adopted your cousin, a cat hybrid, when you were five and she was three, he and his wife wanted a second child but could't have one biologically anymore, and you got a friend as a gift. You never saw your cous being treated diferently from her older sister, indeed they were equaly loved by the whole family. You two would run and play for hours together. 

You learned some diferences between you and hybrids when living with your cousin in childhood. The first one was that you, unfortunately, don't have fluffy beautiful ears and tail like they do, more than once your mother needed to comfort you before going to sleep cuz you were crying, wanting to be cute too. The second was that you were always at a disadvantage in games like hide and seek and tag you it, but you still had fun. The third is that hybrids can't go to school like normal kids. Until a certain age you were home schooled, taking classes with a tutor, when you turned eleven things changed a little bit, and you started studying at an elite college. Your world expanded, you started to study more hours a day and met new people, new teachers, classmates, you made new friends that gradually showed you a cruel world that you didn't know. Most of your friends were also daughters of politicians and entrepreneurs, just like you, and just like you, they grew up surrounded by hybrids. But while they were family to you, to your classmates they were butlers, maids, pets. Soon you started to understand the injustice of it all, of why you were bullied when you talked about your cousin, why you didn't like to go to some friends' house where you would see them treating their hybrids coldly. 

The last straw came when you were fourteen, more specifically your birthday. Until then you kept your friends from meeting your cousin, for fear that the situation would be strang, but it was you birthday, you wanted all your friends in your sleepover, including her. At the beginning of the night you were apprehensive, but your friends did nothing but find your cousin cute and be kind to her, so you relaxed. Everything was going well until one of her best friends decided that she liked your cousin so much that she was going to "ask her father to buy her".Your cousing didn't understand at the time, it was the first time that she was treated as something and not as a person. You were so angry that the party ended right there, most girls left, even though it was two-thirty in the morning. Days later you were expelled from school for getting involved in a fight and assaulting one of the girls who used the wrong word to define your family. You went back to school at home, with the best private tutors, and the world outside was no longer so beautiful. That's how you, already in college, joined a radical activist group for the sake of hybrids.

The concept of owning someone was disgusting for you, that's why you never adopted any hybrid, just fought to free them, in and out of law.That's why you don't recognizes yourself in the decision of getting Jungkook home. But here are you, driving your SUV with him sitting next to you in the passenger's seat. You want the best for each hybrid you have ever rescued, but never before have you been so involved that you are directly responsible for one as you are now doing with him. 

Jungkook have followed you to your car, where you gave him a oversized hoodie of yours to wear - the nigth got cold - and snacks that you had prepared for your trip back home. He was really entertained comparing flavors of three diferent chips, that he didn't even noticed when your black outlaw clothes are gone, replaced by a summer dress in a cardigan. Well, he couldn't remember the last time he had a chance to eat chips, it was probably when he was a kid, and there weren't that many flavors. Of couse, he was refraining from asking you too many questions, that were filling your head like: How is house? Will it be long before we arrive? Do you live with someone else? Do you have other hybrids? Do you do these jobs every night? ... But he kept silent, like a good boy.You said the drive to your city would take about two hours, that he could sleep, but he wanted to keep awake and looking out the window at the landscape, the trees he had never seen so many together and other cars, once in a while passing by with their lights on. It would be beautiful during the day too, he thought. The music playing softly on the radio is also cool.

"Ok." You brake the silence. "We have sometime before we get home, we can talk and get to know each other until then."

Jungkook took a sip of his soda before answering. 

"To know each other?"

"Yeah. Like a  game where we tell things about ourselves and ask each other something..."

"Got it. How do I win this game?" Jungkook got excited.

"It wasn't supposed to be a competition." You laughed, and then got thoughtful. "If you make a question you got one point. If you tell a fact about yourself without being asked you got two points..."

"Whoever has the most points wins. Ok." Jungkook softly clapped his hands with a happy soud coming from his mouth, the gesture doesn't go unnoticed by you. You showd him where to find paper and pen in the glove compartment for him to write down the points. In one side of the page he writed your initials and in the other, his - JK.

"I go first. Hummm... My full name is Y/N Y/L/N and I'm twenty-three. And you, what' is your age?"

"Woaaaa, Y/N! You already have five points, you are good at it." Jungkook excitedly wrote down your points, already thinking about what to say. "I'm twenty-two, but not for long, my birthday is in september. I'm a virgo. What's your sign?"

"Y/S." You responds. "You are into zodiac?"

"Not exactly. But it was a fact about me." Jungkook smile to you making you look away from the road for a moment longer than insurance so you can look at the dimples under his eyes. "Among these three chip flavors, which is your favorite?" "Both cheddar and bacon, I can't choose between them" You answered without hesitation. "Actually I love cheddar and bacon in any context. Did you decided wich one you like the most?"

Jungkook thoughtfully compared the chip packs.

"Nope. I like them all together. I like sweets more. Do you live with someone else?" Jungkook took the courage to ask something that was really on his mind.

"No, is just me in my apartament. But theres always a friend or relative visiting me, almost everyday. " 

Jungkook he felt a confusion of feelings, he did not know if he should be happy or disappointed that you lived alone, and as a result, that he will live only with you. It would be nice if you live with siblings or your parents if they are good like you, but at same time if they are bad he prefers to be with just you.

"How is your family?" He asked before you could make your next question.

"They are great." You said, your tone of voice and eyes ligthing up with affection. "I'm single child, but my family is quite big. We are all focused on progressive thinking of liberating hybrids. That's why I'm part of activist groups ... Of course, only I do this more clandestine work, and my mother doesn't even know. She would be crazy worry. You will like them I think. I have like six cousins, two girls and four guys... Oh my God, they will tease me so much for bringing a boy to live with me..."

Clearly your family is a trigger for you to talk non-stop. Jungkook concluded that your family must be really cool, for you to like them so much, making him wanting to know them too. It got him a little nervous. What would them think about him? Your talking makes your family look amazing, while he’s no big deal. Worse than being uninteresting is not being liked, and there are really bad things about him ... More bad than good things actually. Your family not liking him is scary, and thinking that you might know about his bad past and not liking him any longer suddenly made him anxious. 

You were bragging about your great-aunt's cooking skills when noticed Jungkook got too quiet.

"You are ok, Jungkook?"

He looked at you awkwardly, eyes round like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Yes."

"Sorry I talked too much." You let a weak laugh out, feeling embarrassed. "Is your turn now. Go ahead."

Jungkook looked through the window, avoiding looking to you.

"I don't know what else I have to say... You already won anyway." He showed you the score, your inicials with no space left to write down points. 

"Oh I bet you have a lot of things to say."

"Not good things." Jungkook dared to say, already regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.Your voice softned.

"You don't need to tell me anything you are not ready to tell. Even if you're never ready. But I know that you are a person, and people are made up of many things, not just bad things." A moment of silence followed, you thinking about the next thing to say. "If you don't want to talk about past things... Lets talk about the future. What do you want to have for lunch tomorrow?"

________________________________________________________________

At some point Jungkook finally fell asleep. You drove an entire hour alone, slowly sipping an energy drink, his soft snores beside you not letting you forget about his presence. Everything you want is to sleep too, your eyes heavy, your body numb. You were thinking of it an how you would be in your bed about time, in your fluffy pijamas and warm socks, when blue and red lights appeared in your rear view mirror.

 You pulled over and waited to the cop to come closer to lower the window

."Good nigth, officer." 

You greeted in a low voice.The man just nodded writing down your license plate. 

"Do you know why I made you pull over?" He said, louder than you.

"No, sir." You calmly answered, shrugging. "I was not above the speed limit and my tail lights are ok."

He made an approving sound.

"Papers please."

You turned on the light and reached out to get your documents from the glove compartment, making Jungkook open his sleepy eyes with a groan.

"Y/N?" He called with a pout. The ultimate pout."Shhh. Keep sleeping, babe. We didn't arrived yet."

He obeyed immediately, leaning his head on the window, and you can tell he didn't really wake up in the first place. He was with his cap and hoodie on, so the cop couldn't see his ears and know he is a hybrid. And theis way is better, you thought. 

"Your boyfriend?" The cop asked while analyzing your driver's license.Time to improvise with your acting skills.

"Kind of." You timidly put a lock of hair behind your ear.He scanned the trash in the car."Any alcohol?"

"No, sir. Just energy drink and soda." You smiled.

He did the breathalyzer test on you anyway. 

Since it didn't point to guilty results, you were released to continue your journey.

 You took a deep breath, glad he didn't asked to inspect the car, he would surely find something that would link you to the terrorist act against the shelter, as the newspapers would for sure report the next day.

The good part is that forging Jungkook's adoption document in your name with a date prior to the rescue will be super easy, as the shelter's records blew up in the explosion. That thought made you relax and start driving normally. ________________________________________________________________

"Jungkook. Jungkook wake up." You shook his shoulder, his sleep too heavy. His head fell forward, making him jump in his spot, blinking heavily, the ultimate pout making another appearance. "We arrived, Jungkook."

Jungkook slowly regained consciousness, seeing you standing outside the car, beside him, holding the door open for him to get out.

"We're at home?." His face got bright.

"Yeah. Come."

It was a courtyard at the back of a small old building, it was still early in the morning, the sky was still dark and no one in town was awake. You turned on the car alarm, and guided a still sleepy but very attentive to the details of the new place, Jungkook, to the back door of the building, taking the bunch of keys out of his pocket - of your hoodie that he was wearing. He liked the proximity, the soud of the keys and the smell of the place. Actually the smell was pretty amazing, specially when you opened the door and everything inside got your smell, and others good things.

 You noticed his nose working in the air and laughed.

"Is a flower shop. Do you like it?" You asked.

Something made sense to Jungkook, it's not that the place smelled like you, you smelled like flowers because of the place.

"Yeah. Is pretty good." He said still sniffing the air.

"On the first floor we have the shop, on the second the shop office and a photo studio that I rent to a friend... And on the third and fourth is our home." You tell him as you go up the stairs, he following you closely. "Early on, both the store and the office are open, but this should not be a problem if you want to sleep till late."

"Ok."

You two whispered up to the third floor, a small corridor with two doors on one side and windows on the other. You stepped forward to the first door, the entrance to the living room and struggled to fide the rigth key in the dark. 

Jungkook noticed a faint light coming from under the door and a murmur inside. There was someone in there. He got alert and slightly apprehensive.

You finally oppened the door and got inside, dropping your heavy bag on the floor, the keys in the corner table, kicking off your boots. Jungkook got inside with short steps, looking around cautiously, looking for the person who would ambush you both. The light was the TV... He smelled a cat. 

"Y/n?" A sweet and sleepy voice reached your ears, a little form lifted on the couch. A sniffing soud and the sweet voice got hostile. "Who is this?"

"Yeri, you are here." You smiled, not really caring for the mood changing of her. Jungkook stepped behind you a little. "This is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Yeri, my cousin."

"Hi." Jungkook tryied.

"What's he doing here? You never brought anyone home ..."

And by anyone she meant hybrids, and Jungkook knows it. He couldn't see her face in the dark, just her luminous cat eyes with vertical pupils, the dominant presence of those who had their territory invaded radiating from her. 

"There is always a first time I guess." You say, still ignoring the awkward atmosphere, taking off your cardigan and hanging it on the rack behind the front door. "Are you in the guest room?"

Yeri got up and turned off the TV.

"No. I'm sleeping with you."Clearly she didn't trust Jungkook yet. If you bet, she was ready to sleep in the guest room, but now she decided to sleep with you to protect you from the stranger. 

"Ok." You said.

"Ok." She said. 

She turned on the light in the corridor, taking a few steps to the top floor, with bare feet and cute pijamas, and then stopped looking at Jungkook. Now he could see her face. The scariest cat he has ever seen. "Welcome to the family." And than she disappeared up the stairs.

Jungkook gulped, not sure what to think about it.

"She liked you." You told him, putting a hand in the small of his back.

"How do you know?" He asked you with round eyes.

"She didn't say she disliked you." You smiled. "Yeri is pretty honest about her feelings."

You took him to a room in the hall, with a messy cat-smelling bed in the middle, an empty desk and an armchair close to the window, and an empty closet. Beside the bed on the floor was an open handbag , with women's clothing showing up.

"She said she wasn't going to sleep here..." Jungkook pointed.

"Yeah, she lied about it. She wouldn't let me put you to sleep on the couch, though..." You went down the hall and came back with another blanket. "Aaaand, this will be your room. You'd better get used to it."

You fixed the sheets and changed the blanket and pillowcases, probably to help with the cat smell, odorless bedding help to make the bed more of him.

"That's what I can offer you for now, after all I wasan't expecting to adopt you. We can fix it later." You tiredly said, picking Yeri's bag from the floor.

"Ah... Don't worry.". Jungkook wanted to say he was already happy with what he got, that being adopted in firts place was more than he expected, that he was greatfull of your caring so far. But he couldn't find the words to put in on.

"Good, bucause I'm dead tired... I need to sleep, and you do too." You gave him a pat in his back, and went to the door. "If you need it, theres a bathroom in the end of the corridor. Good night." And than you closed the door behind you.

Jungkook waited for the sound your staps desapeard to start moving and breathing again. He was in his room! He ran to the window and opened the curtains a little to see outside, it seemed to be a main street in a small town, but Jungkook had never stepped in a small town before to have reference. He tryied the armchair and conclued it was confortable enouth to take a nap on it. The closet was big enough for him to fit in - he tested it - another possible place for good naps. With leaps of joy he imagined all the things he could kept there, the clothes and shoes he didn't have yet but dream of having. Fantasizing about when you were going to take him to shopping, he put the hat on one of the top shelves and closed the double doors carefully, to make any noise. And then threw himself on the bed, scenting the sheets, sighing contentedly. He took off his shoes and placed beside the bad, his wallet in the nigthstand - open like a picture frame, showing the photo of two hybrid little boys embracing and smiling - , and the suffed bunny lying next to him with it's own pillow.

All in this room felt so real to him, as much as your smell. If you said it will be his room so it's true, because se believe in you, and he is so happy.With the thought of a bright future with you Jungkook finally fell asleep again.

___________________________________________________________

Tag list: @stayunderthelights​ ​  @deolly​ @panconte​

___________________________________________________________

Thakyou!!! Let me know if you liked it... <3 <3 <3 This is a sub blog so I wont respond coments, but I read it all.

[choquejuergas]

sally rooney, conversations with friends

“i had no plans as to my future financial sustainability: i never wanted to earn money for doing anything. i’d had various minimum-wage jobs in previous summers —sending emails, making cold calls, things like that — and i expected to have more of them after i graduated. though i knew that i would eventually have to enter full-time employment, i certainly never fantasised about a radiant future where i was paid to perform an economic role. sometimes this felt like a failure to take an interest in my own life, which depressed me. on the other hand, i felt that my disinterest in wealth was ideologically healthy. i’d checked what the average yearly income would be if the gross wold product were divided evenly among everyone, and according to wikipedia it would be $16,000. i saw no reason, political or financial, ever to male more money than that”

“i could perform each poem for a period of about six months after i’d written it, after which point i couldn’t stand to look at it, never mind read it aloud in public. i didn’t know what caused this process, but i was glad the poems were only ever performed and never published. they floated away ethereally to the sound of applause. real writers, and also painters, had to keep on looking at the ugly things they had done for good. i hated that everything i did was so ugly, but also that i lacked the courage to confront how ugly it was”

“i made myself take an hour before responding. i watched some cartoons on the internet and made a cup of coffee. then i read his email again several times. i was relieved he had put the whole thing in lower case like he always did. it would have been dramatic to introduce capitalisation at such a moment of tension”

“we always took the cheapest flights, early in the morning or late at night, and as a consequence we usually spent the first day of the trip feeling irritable and trying to find free wifi”

“the bus took us through verdant countryside, which a white mist had settled over, shot through with sunlight. on the bus radio, voices chatted lightly in french, laughing sometimes, and then there was music. we passed farmland on either side, vineyards with hand-painted signs and immaculate drive-through bakeries advertised in neat sans-serif lettering. very few cars were on the roads, it was early”

“i was lying on my front, so i couldn’t see the children’s faces, but occasionally in my peripheral vision i caught a blur of primary colour, a spade or bucket, or a flash of ankle”

“a searing anxiety developed inside me at this thought, in the same form it always took no matter what external stimulus triggered it: first the realisation that i would die, then that everyone else would die, and then that the universe itself would eventually experience heat death, a kind of thought sequence that expanded outward endlessly in forms too huge to be contained inside my body. i trembled, my hands were clammy, and i felt sure i would be sick again. i punched my leg meaninglessly as if that would prevent the death of the universe”

“i believed in small jobs, like raising children, picking fruit, cleaning. they were the jobs i considered the most valuable, the jobs that struck me as deserving the most respect of all"

“gradually the waiting began to feel less lie waiting and more like this was simply what life was: the distracting tasks undertaken while the thing you are waiting for continues not to happen. i applied for jobs and turned up for seminars. things went on”

“the church smelled of stale incense and dry air. columns of stained glass rose up behind the altar like long piano-playing fingers and the ceiling was the white and mint-green colour of confectionery”

“instead of thinking gigantic thoughts, i tried to focus on something small, the smallest thing i could think of. someone once made this pew i’m sitting on, i thought. someone sanded the wood and varnished it. someone carried it into the church. someone laid the tiles on the floor, someone fitted the windows. each brick was placed by human hands, each hinge fitted on each door, every road surface outside, every bulb in every streetlight. and even things built by machines were really built by human beings, who built the machines initially. and human beings themselves, made by other humans, struggling to create happy children and families. me, all the clothing i wear, all the language i know. who put me here in this church, thinking these thoughts? other people, some i know very well and others i have never met. am i myself, or am i them? is this me, frances? no, it is not me. it is the others. do i sometimes hurt and harm myself, do i abuse the unearned cultural privilege of whiteness, do i take the labour of others for granted, have i sometimes exploited a reductive iteration of gender theory to avoid serious moral engagement, do i have a troubled relationship with my body, yes. do i want to be free of pain and therefore demand that others also live free of pain, the pain which is mine and therefore also theirs, yes, yes. when i opened my eyes i felt that i had understood something, and the cells of my body seemed to light up like millions of glowing points of contact, and i was aware of something profound. then i stood up from my seat and collapsed”

“i got up from the table, put the kettle on, and emptied two spoonfuls of coffee into the french press. i took some painkillers, i drank the coffee, i watched a murder mystery on netflix. a certain peace had come to me and i wondered if it was god’s doing after all. not that god existed in any material way but as a shared cultural practice so widespread that it came to seem materially real, like language or gender”

“it was dark then, and everything was gathered around points of light: shop windows, faces flushed with cold, a row of taxis idling along the kerb. i heard a shake of reins and the sound of hooves across the street. entering the park through aside gate the noise of traffic seemed to turn itself down, like it caught in the bare branches and dissolved in air. my breath laid a white path in front of me”

[taofarren]

Tina The Cortina

It was December in Cape Town and the South African president decided to surprise us with the gift of additional lockdown restrictions. Alcohol was banned, and spending time on the beach or sea in any capacity was suddenly highly illegal.

With our surf plans turned on their head, my girlfriend, Renske, and I decided to head in the opposite direction of the forbidden ocean, and celebrate New Years Eve in the Cape wine lands. It had been a debate in my mind between taking my mom’s plastic, yet reliable car, and returning before she got home from holiday the next week, or taking Tina, my 1969 canary yellow Ford Cortina, and having the freedom of cruising home when we wanted to. We chose risk, pleasure and freedom!

Renske had always accepted my car without too many questions, but during this particular trip she teased me each time we drove up the smallest hill. “Babe, are you sure we can make it up this one?”.

Of course I defended Tina the Cortina loyally.  For a 52 year old lady, she had taken me on many successful adventures, and could surely handle a slow cruise to the wine lands. I was almost offended that Renske was teasing her. It didn’t cross my mind that it came from a place of real concern.

Half way through the journey I realised this was my longest trip Tina and I had taken in the three glorious years we had spent together.

My previous car had packed out after surviving me through the madness of my late teens. There were only terrible replacement options available within my very limited budget at the time. A ridiculously bright yellow car constantly popped up within the Gumtree search results, and I browsed the pictures as a joke. Yellow was my least favourite colour, and I wouldn’t dream of having a car that obnoxiously bright. Curiosity, and lack of a better option lead me to a test drive with the owner in Grassy Park. Despite my terrible driving and constant stalling of the old clutch, I instantly fell in love.

Just the feeling of sitting in the car felt so right. There is instantly a connection when driving a machine that old. The low seat, the thin steering wheel, having to throw my entire body weight into each turn of the power steering-less wheel. This was a real car. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew I had to have her.

We agreed on a straight swap. His keys for mine at the traffic department. As happy as I was, I was too scared to tell my parents. In our initial chats about potential new cars, they shot down any idea of something classic and dangerous. I knew she was exactly the match that they were dreading, and I hid her from them until it had truly sunk in, and there was no turning back for me. They had to meet and accept her whether they liked her or not.

Even though she caused my mothers head to shake in disappointment, everywhere else she went, people would whip their heads around and smile. Whether a passenger or an observer, it instantly made you happier.

From the beginning, this car was surrounded by an invisible force-field of love. This came in handy, as rather stupidly, I think I only wore the stiff seatbelt a handful of times.

1969 must have been a time of minimal accidents, as this particular model had no headrests, and there was no such thing as an emergency stop. Stopping would require you to jump on the brake about 30 metres in advance. Surprisingly (most probably due to the colour), I never had a single accident other than driving very slowly into a few walls.

Contrary to popular belief, owning a classic car is not about self-image, and in this case, most definitely not a “chick magnet”. To most women it was just an old yellow car. Once they had their photo for Instagram, the reality of the journey would set in, and it would be a true test of their level of “maintenance”.

It was in fact more of an old man magnet. Or rather every man. From the day I got her, old men asked me complicated questions about her regularly. I learnt about her anatomy by rushing home to Google what on earth they had asked me.

Almost every day I had offers to buy her. Even though these  were mostly from car guards, petrol attendants, and a few times from a persistent garbage truck driver, I would obligingly take down their numbers, knowing I would never sell her. I knew that Tina enjoyed the attention and got the ego boost she deserved.

I wasn’t the only one to feel an emotional pull. It seemed to be the car that many people’s parents had, and seeing it triggered fond memories of their youth.

I was once approached timidly approached by an elderly lady who I mistook for a Jehovah’s witness:

“Excuse me!”.

“Good morning?” I enquired, squinting up at her, while flashing my most realistic, fake smile. She stooped in closer - Her wide eyes magnified by thick glasses,  grey hair exploding out from underneath a Christian hat.

“Did you know that my mother had this car when I was younger?”

She blinked at me expectantly.

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to have known that, but I decided to humour her.

“Uh…. Good memories?”

She leaned in closer with a crooked grin;

“Yes… especially on the back seat!”

She giggled and walked off with a vacant smile

A few days later, the memory of that lady’s grin still fresh in my mind, a beggar at a traffic light told me that his father had the car when he was younger. Cheerfully, I responded along the same lines, saying that he must have been a great man, to which he responded:

“No, he was a horrible man”, and walked away sadly.

Despite constantly threatening to overheat in traffic, she dominated the city roads. To get across a busy intersection, I would slowly drive into the middle of the road, and people would smile and let me in, just to stare at her beautiful square bum with glassy eyes.

She had a knack with roadblocks too. On a particular incident, with the car filled with mates drinking beers after sundowners on the beach, I was pulled over with a lit joint in hand. I panicked and stalled diagonally across the road.

“Fuck fuck fuck”

I tried to casually stamp the joint out with sandy feet as the policeman walked over with a serious look on his face. Smoke hung in the sweaty interior and the beer bottles on the floor clinked to a halt as he leant down to the window.

“Excuse me sir… what year model is this?”

“Uhm,1969” I replied nervously

“Yoh, look after her hey!” He smiled as he waved us through.

One of the main reasons I had rationalised the choice of a classic car, was that I would learn about how cars actually worked, feeling so detached from my previous modern car. Over the years I learnt intimately what was possible to break in a car, as everything slowly fell apart.

Electrical faults, numerous flat tyres, the radiator exploding in the middle of a petrol station, ball joints seizing, the floor rusting through to the road, using torches as flashlights to get home at night. I got really good at putting my ego aside and asking people for help.

For summer there was definitely no air con. The beautiful black pleather seats became stove plates against your skin, and the only fan was created by the draught rushing through the holes in the bodywork.

This cooling system, so useful in summer, became a freezer in winter. Long johns, extra hoodies, a beanie and gloves were always packed in the trunk. To this day, the usually comforting sound of rain outside the window shocks me awake. I would lie in bed as it poured down, dreading the inevitable puddles filling up the car floor through these holes and the aged window seals.  

Strangely enough, the lack of headrests and questionable seatbelts made me feel more alive. The constant struggle to keep the loose steering wheel in a straight line, while listening to every sound in case of a problem, forced me into complete presence.

I saw so much more while travelling slowly. It felt like a leisurely stroll while on holiday, compared to a frantic run. Even if I was late it was literally impossible to drive faster. I learnt that at this point, it wouldn’t help to stress. Pushing the car further than its current 90 km/h top speed would most probably result in something breaking or flying off. I was forced to relax and enjoy myself in every situation.

Every ride, no matter how short, felt like an adventure, a real road trip. Each time I arrived at my destination, I was overcome with gratitude for having accomplished a magnificent feat.

On the streets I was instantly respected. I would pull up to traffic lights next to the latest luxury cars in elite places like Bantry Bay, and have the driver wind down his window to tell me how much he loved my car. When I’d ask them to swap, they would chuckle and zoom off while I tried not to stall.

We also received major street “cred” within the more alternative communities. This came in most useful when working on a documentary with the Ocean View Spinners, a community who passionately (and illegally) spun their cars until their tyres burst. I eventually realised it was safe to park inside the actual spinning parking lot,  and upon seeing Tina for the first time, their perception of me shifted. Even though I refused their offers to spin her, I became one of them.

I was invited to an event in a township in Paarl to shoot one of their sessions. When we met at sunrise, their car was too full to take me, as it was a big family affair. The young pit crew boys fought over who would join me in my car for the journey, and eventually all piled in. Their excitement and pride of just being a passenger in Tina filled me with an ovewhelming sense of gratitude as we cruised past the grannies of Fish Hoek main road. A white boy driving while they hung out the window, hooting and hollering to their rap music blaring from a portable speaker.

At the Lavender Hill traffic lights, a notorious crime hotspot, the fun spluttered out along with the engine. Dead. In the worst place possible. Literally a bright yellow sitting duck with doors that couldn’t lock, and a boot full of camera gear. Even though they were the pit crew for the spin car, they were youngsters, and didn’t have any tools or the right knowledge. Internal panic kicked in as I ran through unrealistic solutions in my head. My internal spinning was interrupted by someone pulling in behind us. Sweating, I reached for the locking mechanism that didn’t exist on this model. Hijacking clearly wasn’t a problem in 1969 either It was a member of the Ocean View spinners convoy and most importantly, a mechanic.

They all crowded into the bonnet and fiddled until she begrudgingly returned to life. A few hundred metres of relief, before another cut out. Another stressed session of heads crammed together and hundreds of theories thrown around before we were back on our way.

During the event in Paarl, I was so overwhelmed by the deafening sound and smell of the cars being whipped around the “pitch”, that I completely forgot about my own car troubles. As the sun began to dip, it was advised that we leave the township and start the long drive home. Tina was towed out in amongst the traffic jam of exhausted spin cars and we started the painful process of resuscitation. The Spinners were just as tired as the cars, but they kept their patience with the old lady. An eventual tow-start and I was instructed to not let her cut out, whatever I do. No stops allowed on the hour long journey home.

Night shortly fell, and as we rattled along the road, one of the headlight fuses bumped out of place. The two headlights in their full glory hardly lit Tina’s path, now we were reduced to a single headlight. I couldn’t risk stopping to re-adjust it as I was sure she would cut out wherever she rested. I tuned out the passengers as they animately debated the events of the day, and zoned into the sound of her unhappy engine. We had lost the rest of the convoy on the highway, and this time I didn’t even want to contemplate what would happen if we broke down in the middle of nowhere in the dark. I stressed us the whole way back to Ocean View, and as soon as we turned into the road and Tina saw our destination, she cut out.

This time she was done for the day, and nothing would bring her back to life. After everything she had been through that day, she had to spend the night in Ocean View. I got a lift home from the spinning crew, and arriving without a car, and a black face full of tyre particles, I wasn’t quite sure how to explain the day to my family. “Good, thanks” had to do.

After a few weeks of rehabilitation, Tina was returned by a mechanic in Ocean View but still wouldn’t run properly. For more than a month she sat in the winter rain, while I desperately tried to figure out what parts she needed, and from where I could source them. Because she was so old, it was difficult to find someone that understood her.

She sat there limp and lifeless. My only form of freedom in those lockdown months, dead without much hope.

I eventually found the part that would get her moving and to Uncle Wasief, the world’s most reliable mechanic. He delivered the news that it had finally come to the crucial moment we had both been expecting: Very soon, I had to either let her go, or give her a complete makeover.

He fixed her up as best as he could until then, and we were temporarily back in action.

That day, I made a promise to her to give her the love she needed. I wouldn’t just take from her, but would listen to her requests.

I had all the windows and seats fixed, all the little odds and ends that I had previously dismissed as “character” and saved the quoted amount for a full restoration. She would be booked in at the end of January.

Over the howl of the wind though the holes, the disappointing sound of the portable speaker’s battery dying, brought me back to Renske, and our current journey to the wine lands As we arrived in Franschhoek, I think we both let out a secret sigh of relief, happy that we had made the right choice after all.

After a peaceful week of unnaturally green grass and  far too much bootlegged wine, it was time to return to the city, reality, and the new year. As usual we were running late. This time for the last available Covid test appointment before Renske flew to Kenya for a job. If Tina travelled at full speed with no stops, we could just make it to the appointment on time.

The impressively spacious boot, as well as every other surface of the back seat, was crammed to full capacity We had both of our lives packed into the car: Camera gear, laptops, and weeks worth of clothing.

Driving down the first hill and taking in the beauty of the passing vineyards one last time, Renske abruptly turned to me: “Hey man, I think your car is smoking”.

This wasn’t completely unusual, and I attempted to sniff a few times with my hay fever impaired nose. A few metres later the engine cut out completely. She’d done many strange things, but this was certainly out of character for the old gal. We sat in silence, and heard the usually soothing sound of crackling flames, confusingly out of place on a sweaty 30 degree day.

The smell of smoke quickly formed a grey cloud as I ran around to the bonnet, lifting it to reveal a healthy fire. Right in the middle of my engine bay.

“Uhhhmmm…”

Renske hopped out as my brain struggled to compute the next step.

The only knowledge I have of burning cars is from action movies, where they quickly explode in a ball of fire. The passengers are generally running away, or flying through the air in slow motion. Sometimes both. Not interested in the flying option, we started to grab all our bags, and run them up the hill.

During each frantic trip, we tried to figure out which bags were the most important, as we took them higher and higher. If we can only grab a few bags before it explodes, what do we take? My beach umbrella rolled down the hill and my toothbrush flew through the air as unzipped bags vomited our lives out.

“Tao, your laundry!”

Your mind gets a bit muddled under that life or death pressure, and you start to ask yourself important questions about attachment. I was aware that Renske kept running back for random things that seemed unnecessary, yet I couldn’t help worrying about Sunny, the dashboard Hula girl.

After the toothbrush was successfully rescued, Renske remembered that her laptop was right in the front near the flames. Without a second thought, I sprinted to the car and grabbed it. As a video editor, my fear of losing saved work will always be far, far greater than potential death of any form.

We eventually sweated our hundreds of bags to the top of the hill and we stood to truly take it all in. It really was a beautiful sight that I will never forget. There was not a breath of wind on the perfect summer day. Plumes of smoke billowed out of the bright yellow car, framed by lines of vineyards and a perfectly still lake. Not a single part of me could feel sad while taking in such a surreal scene. The sight of this paradoxical beauty was enhanced by the anticipation of it exploding, and lighting up the nearby crops. Realising that this was not the ideal way to thank the farm owner for the lovely stay, I quickly called her up.

“Hi Ginny, quite a strange one, but my car is on fire. Ya… my car…. We were driving and it lit up…… Ya….. I was wondering if there was any chance you could please call the fire department?”

A few moments later, Francois the farm manager roared past. He barely parked before sprinting towards the burning car, wielding a fire extinguisher in each hand. In the shock, I had forgotten that I was a photographer, and I quickly grabbed my camera, and ran to join him. I was now filled with a different sense of urgency: to capture the tragedy.

A few photos, yet still no explosion as Francois and the fire extinguishers quickly snuffed out the flames. The dodgy wiring in the bonnet had reacted to some leaked oil, and everything in the engine bay was toast. The interior, which was the only part of her that hadn’t fallen apart in our love affair, was completely untouched. During her last dashboard hula dance, Sunny’s dress had been partly undone, yet not entirely removed by the flames. Her dignity was proudly intact as she obliviously continued to play her ukulele in amongst the smoke.

Once the curious farm workers cleared off, and the insurance company was notified, I found myself sitting alone with Tina’s burnt carcass in the shade of the vineyard.

Strangely enough, the only thing that came to my muddled mind was regret that we didn’t ever have sex in her extremely comfortable back seat.

Nothing could have prepared me for the many life lessons learnt by owning a classic car as my daily runner.

It’s amazing how adaptable we are as humans, and what we can overcome for love. Broken window? No problem, open the other one. It’s just how it was.

Their age allows you to understand and accept their imperfections, and this understanding leads to love and compassion.

As we all struggle to come to terms with our own constantly changing and ageing bodies, would it be possible to treat ourselves with the same level of compassion?

I was snapped out of my reverie by the tattooed tow truck drivers from Bellville arriving. A quick elbow bump and signature, and they winched her onto a flatbed truck.

I watched as she was towed away on her last ever journey; a burnt chunk of bright yellow metal to everyone she passed.

If only they knew.

Dear old Tina the Cortina . My friend, saviour, teacher and true love.

[bubbyyerrr]

Broken Bow and Hochatown

5 Senses

Audio Reading:  https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PT2nvmg6Rn5rwvz6lqsgjeFvF_iRNzVz/view?usp=drivesdk

         Broken Bow and Hochatown look like a run-down Hallmark representation of a small town in the country. There are trees and wildlife everywhere and the lake and rivers are clear and (for the most part) free of pollution. The scenery changes a bit when hundreds of tourists crowd the one road and every camping spot along the lake, but they all seek the same middle-of-nowhere getaway.  The smell of Broken Bow- pine trees mixed with lake water and grills- persists through tourism's popularity.

           Broken Bow feels like a hot, sticky air constantly surrounding you and eventually being cleared by the breeze being carried above the soft waves of the lake. It feels like the first breath of fresh air when you step through the door of your home after a long workday. It sounds like high schoolers’ trucks with enlarged mufflers black-smoking and letting everybody in the neighborhood know that they have arrived. Broken Bow sounds like the warm hellos of a people that have known each other their whole lives because it seem like everybody here has.

           Broken Bow tastes like a confusing amount of Tex-Mex mixed with fast food and the occasional good burger. It tastes like local coffee beans and homemade ice cream. Broken Bow encapsulates the full feeling of a summertime feel good movie. The sights, smells, sounds, tastes, and feelings are all quite familiar to me, to the point where I have taken them each for granted. It feels of something unique and treasured by many for its beauty in the small things.

My Love for the Small Town

My experience with Broken Bow and Hochatown is substantial, seeing as I have lived there for the majority of my life. The irony is that I had to leave for college to realize its significance and impact on my life. In high school I was more than a little frustrated with my place of living. The “city” of Broken Bow had nothing for teenagers to do throughout the year. I wanted a bowling alley, a laser tag arena, a coffee shop, or anything else that a bigger city had. In high school, my friends and I would go to a parking lot adjacent to the Wal-Mart parking lot and sit in one person’s car and listen to music and talk. If we were not spending the night and playing video games, then this was our next best option in our eyes.

           I suppose there is a charm to its uniqueness, but I was quite blind to it having only experienced its lack of activities compared to other places. Teenagers of Broken Bow have it easy now. There are two coffee shops and a bowling alley is coming to Hochatown, I would not be at all surprised if a laser tag arena was soon to follow! I am quite happy with it, despite my obvious previous frustrations, however. I now experience it in mediation as a place to escape, as many many others have.

Sustain the Environment

Broken Bow and Hochatown should be preserved as an escape to pure nature with minimalized pollutants in the water and air. My hope is that every tourist that visits would share my view and take care of the environment of the small town. People visit this place because of the clear water and sense of peace with being surrounded by nature, and if that were to be ruined or contaminated, people would come here less and drastically decrease the business that the town has thrived from. The State Park of Beaver’s Bend is well protected, but I encourage anyone staying in cabins or camping to treat the nature around you kindly so that it may continue to welcome others who visit.

Come Visit you City Slickers

I would encourage anybody that has never been to Broken Bow/Hochatown to visit with a plan of activities for each day. Floating the river is a very popular choice among tourists and locals, and there are plenty of canoe and kayak rental places that will take you to the river and pick you up when you have finished your route. It is a great way to spend the day in the sun and water and encourages little competitions among families and friends or a peaceful journey for the lone wolf types. I would encourage newcomers to the area to come in with a fresh conviction to take a step away from staring at screens all the time. Beauty is not found in the lens of a camera but the purity of the moment captured by not only the sight but the sounds and feelings of the moment.

Source: https://www.vrbo.com/vacation-rentals/usa/oklahoma/broken-bow?noDates=true&k_clickid=CjwKCAjwuvmHBhAxEiwAWAYj-KvnJaKnEyvEjDVLuL5DySkqXXfVUSPAfUCi1V3-TquPPPTnJW-GCRoCFacQAvD_BwE&ds_cid=71700000080047762&ds_kids=p60860309934&ds_kid=39700060860309934&ksprof_id=700000002166899&ksdevice=c&ktarget=dsa-1183032255545&kloct=&klocf=9026684&ds_aid=58700006721571344&ha_t=:g:&gclid=CjwKCAjwuvmHBhAxEiwAWAYj-KvnJaKnEyvEjDVLuL5DySkqXXfVUSPAfUCi1V3-TquPPPTnJW-GCRoCFacQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds

Covid Changes to Broken Bow

Whenever the pandemic hit, Broken Bow initially followed a soft lockdown and the majority of residents did not leave their homes as frequently. After a few people got it and got over it, however, this changed for the entire town. Many people ceased to take it seriously or their view of the virus became “If I get it I get it”.

Broken Bow and Beaver's Bend are located in an overwhelmingly conservative area of the United States. With that being said, you can imagine that many things did not change in Broken Bow for the most part. Our Wal-Mart asked people to wear masks, but they were ignored, and no employees enforced the mask policy or social distancing. While the franchise restaurants, excluding two, stayed the same and flourished from drive-thru and delivery experiences, the “Mom and Pop” restaurants were hit quite hard by the initial drop in business. One of our biggest, most-frequented restaurants in town, Papa Poblanos, was heavily impacted at first, but they introduced an “Order Online” option that brought a significant chunk of their revenue back to normal.

As the virus progressed and calmed down, tourism has spiked back almost as intensely as it dropped. The cabin businesses faired very well, as did all of the attractions in Hochatown. Every store and restaurant you go to, it is quite easy to point out who is a tourist and who is a local based on who has a mask and who does not. Throughout the rise and fall of the virus, Broken Bow has managed to maintain an optimistic attitude, and gives tourists from all over a safe haven to escape.

All of the following photos are from Broken Bow photographer, Matt Cameron. Matt has done photography for multiple cabins and the other photos are of Broken Bow lake, Mountain Fork River and a mountain in the Broken Bow area. Each photo is from his account on instagram, @cameronphotography.ok Link: https://www.instagram.com/cameronphotography.ok/

Now that you’ve been Convinced

1.     Prepare your budget. You should not worry about money on your vacation/detox so save money where you can, to enjoy it later.

2.     Gather your party. Do you have a group of people or your family that you’d love to escape with? If you’re going alone, this step is significantly less important.

3.     Prepare your mind and body for a change by adapting sleep and thought patterns. It can be very difficult to not think about work or other things while vacationing, so prepare yourself.

4.     Let people know ahead of time that you will not be on your phone as much (hopefully not at all).

5.     Look for the perfect place to stay. There are hundreds of cabins in Broken Bow, so find one you love!

6.     Reach out to the cabin booking services and talk about your favorite place. Get a good relationship with them so if you need anything while there, they can oblige easily.

7.     Look into possible activities that you think you might enjoy. While there is some awesome stuff to do here, you may not be able to do it all, so prioritize as much as possible!

8.     Plan out your days ahead of time. Make an itinerary if wanted, but do not be too strict with the timelines.

9.     Pack well! Your vacation is almost here, but do not get too overzealous and forget something. Make a list ahead of time and add on as the time gets closer.

10.  Make a banger playlist. No trip is complete without tunes to jam to. That road anticipation can be alleviated with some sick beats.

11.     Practice your most hick accent on the way. This step is crucial.

12.     As you arrive, just throw your bags on the bed and go eat! Get some experience and good food on the first day. My highest of recommendations to Grateful Head.

13.     Get that phone out of here! You will ruin it in all the water around here anyways!

14.     Enjoy every moment of the day. If you need a nap, take it. If you want a snack, you deserve it. Stick to the itinerary, but if something goes off schedule, that is okay! That is why you prioritized!

15.     Take a walk or a few out in nature before you go. You can take some time away from the constant distractions from everyday life and actually think in the sounds of nature. A vacation is nothing without a proper detox.

My blog over Broken Bow was an interesting one. I have written about my hometown before but never in this capacity and to this magnitude. My focus on the hometown and not so much the important events of my life in them was strange but welcome. My blog served as an homage to the place I grew up, even though I have not been overly fond of it. It became an appreciation of the roots of my parents and grandparents.

The colors used on my blog were the default colors of Tumblr. I am not sure how customizable the layout of blogs on Tumblr are. The pictures I used that I am proud of are the pictures of Matt Cameron, a wonderful photographer friend of mine. I wanted my blog to reflect a familiar place of peace that you could go to to collect your thoughts. The audience for my blog is people who have never visited Broken Bow or Hochatown before.

I put my blog together just assignment by assignment as I went through them. I feel it is strong in capturing the beauty of a small town getaway. The blog does not accurately depict the frustrations of limited activities there. I could relate the blog to my college career because of the surprising amount of musically talented people in Broken Bow. It honestly does not have much to relate to apart from the musically inclined people there.

This post was for Dr. Hembrough’s ENG 3903 course.

[gra-sonas]

For the otp asks, are there still numbers you haven't been asked yet? Every singlenone of your answers has been amazing to be honest.

Awww, thank you, nonnie, I’m glad you’ve liked my answers. ❤️

Okay, let’s see which numbers I haven’t answered for Malex yet:

1) Who rocks the Ferris Wheel seat and who flips out and begs them to stop?

Neither. They just enjoy the ride and the view. 🎡

6) Who takes photos of the other while they sleep?

They both did in the past when Alex came to the Airstream whenever he was on leave. One afternoon, Michael had managed to take a picture of Alex who’d fallen asleep after their intense and somewhat desperate reunion sex. Michael took the pic not knowing whether he’d ever get to have this again: Alex, safe in his bed. After Alex had left, Michael got a printed copy of the photo at the drugstore and put it in his wallet. It’s still in there.

Alex took a photo of Michael asleep whenever he had to leave, desperate to drink in the sight of Michael, all sun-kissed skin and wild curls. He never dared to get one of the pics printed, but he has a special folder on his phone where these pics are stored.

When they get back together, they don’t need to take pictures of the other asleep anymore because they know, that from now on, they have “the real deal” right by their side for the rest of their lives.

10) Who is more likely to cheat?

Neither!

12) Who starts a food fight in the kitchen?

Neither. The “kitchen” in the Airstream is too small, and Alex’s kitchen is so pristine, the mere idea of getting it all dirty in a food fight is absurd. They do enjoy cooking together, though, feeding each other bites of whatever they’re preparing.

13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer?

Alex is the singer in the family, that doesn’t keep Michael from singing in the shower, though. He also loves to sing in the car, along to whatever’s playing on the radio. And Alex joins him, happy to share this with Michael.

15) Who likes writes the others name on their wrist?

Neither

18) Who talks to the other while they are sleeping?

Sometimes Michael wakes up in the middle of the night. Not from nightmares or anything, he just wakes up and lies in the dark, listening to Alex’s slow and deep breaths right next to him. And he’s just so grateful that he gets to have this, that they get to have this. That they finally figured out how to be together without hurting each other.

And sometimes he just has to tell Alex, even though he’s asleep and won’t hear Michael, but Michael tells him anyway. How much he loves Alex, how much he loves their life together, he tells Alex about his hopes and dreams, just all the little things he sometimes forgets to tell Alex when they are awake (although they both make an effort to talk to each other, to tell each other how much they love the other etc, there’s no lack of communication between them these days).

Anyway, sometimes Michael talks to Alex while he’s asleep, these moments are very dear to him and they help him to fall asleep again eventually.

(Sometimes Alex will wake up from Michael whispering sweet things to him, he pretends to still be asleep and just let’s Michael’s love wash over him.)

19) Who drives and who has the window seat?

During their first summer together they’re going on a road trip. Alex insists on driving because he wants Michael to be able to soak it all up. The view, the landscape, sights, animals on the side of the road, everything.

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of loosing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

Ouch, this is a touchy topic for both of them.

Alex is maybe a tad better at talking himself out of thinking like that, but sometimes it’s still hard to shut up and dismiss Jesse’s voice in his head. Michael struggles more tbh . Undoing the damage of more than two decades of abandonment issues requires a lot of work.

But the longer they are together, the easier it gets, and the faster one of them will pick up on the other “going there” and then they’ll talk, and there’s always the reassurance of “I love you, you are good enough, you are my forever, I’m not going anywhere.”

24) Who starts random slow dancing with the other in the kitchen? Who holds the other just above the ground and kisses them?

When they cook together, there’s always music playing in the background, and Michael loves nothing more than to hug Alex from behind, kiss his neck, and sway with him to the rhythm of the music. Eventually, Michael will turn in Michael’s embrace, put his arms around Michael’s neck and kiss him (while they’re still swaying to the rhythm of the music).

26) Who kissed first?

Alex tried, but Michael wasn’t ready.

Didn’t take him long to get there, though

27) Who orders take out at two in a morning? and who wakes the other up at three in the morning to go downstairs with them to get a glass of water because it’s too dark?

When Alex is really (REALLY) in the mood for fries and milkshake one night, Michael drives to the Crashdown and gets them fries and shakes just before Arturo closes for the night.

Neither of them‘s afraid of the dark, though, and if someone’s thirsty in the middle of the night, it’s usually Michael who gets up so Alex won’t have to use his crutches.

28) Who writes poems/stories and love songs about the other? Do they sing the songs the write for them?

I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THAT THIS IS CANON 🥺😭

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?

No stunts for these two, especially stunts that will earn them a trip to the ER (Michael wouldn’t go there anyway, and Alex has spent too much time in a hospital, he really doesn’t need more of that if he can help it).

It’s more likely that alien shenanigans will get them in trouble, and since they’ll both do anything to protect the other, chances are, things will end in a way that requires medical attention, it’s usually Kyle or Liz who’ll patch them up.

One day, Alex gets hurt quite severely during a mission to another secret facility, though. Michael finds him after fighting off a group of soldiers. Alex is lying on the floor of the server room where he was hacking into the main computer, a red stain in the shape of a poppy slowly growing on his chest. He’s been shot and his breathing is getting more and more shallow. Michael cradles him in his arms, yelling at him to stay awake, but he knows if he doesn’t come up with an idea real quick, he’ll lose Alex.

There’s no way in heaven or hell Michael will let that happen. He rips Alex bloody shirt open and places his hand right over Alex’s heart. He closes his eyes and lets his instincts take over. His hand starts glowing a familiar red, and the lights in the room are flickering. He feels a boost of something building up inside of him, and with one final push, he presses his hand down on Alex’s chest. It’s like he’s shoving life itself back into Alex’s limp body.

Seconds later Alex starts moving in his arms. He coughs, then he looks up at Michael, his dark hazel eyes shining with so much love, it takes Michael’s breath away.

“You did it, Michael, you saved my life!” He grabs for Michael’s hand (that’s still glowing a faint red) and presses a kiss into the open palm. Michael cups Alex’s face and Alex nuzzles into the touch. The intimate contact blows a connection between them wide open and all of a sudden it’s like they’re outside in the bright sunshine, there’s so much light, but it doesn’t hurt their eyes, it just surrounds them, pierces right through them and warms them from the inside.

Then there are pictures, they feel like memories but how can that be? There they are, kissing, but they are clad in what looks like primitive fur clothing. Another picture, Michael is wearing a toga-like garment, while Alex is sporting the golden armor pieces of a Roman general. They are lying on the floor a luxuriously decorated tent, feeding each other with grapes. Another picture where they are wearing medieval clothing, and so it goes on and on. It’s like there’s always been an Alex and a Michael in every century since the beginning of time.

When the picture show ends, they gasp and with that they’re back under the harsh neon light of the server room. They look at each other and although they hear noise in the distance, they hug tight and sink into the most intimate kiss they’ve ever shared.

When the noise comes closer, they stop kissing, and Alex grabs Michael’s hand.

“Please help me up. I have everything I need downloaded, also one push of that button over there and the facility will blow up in 15 minutes. Let’s get out of here, and then I want to go home and make love to you four weeks in a row.”

Michael grins, helps Alex up and on their way out, sets off the self-destruct mechanism with a mere thought.

When they get home, their friends don’t see them for an entire month ;)