#we had a COUCH instead we ended up with an empty stage and still ATE when will ur fave ever

[marciliedonato]

it was so clear esc this year was rigged in favor of loreen the moment they said she couldnt have the 1 ton screen from her performance at the melodifestivalen bc it was too heavy so they were gonna have to change the performance but then she still showed up to the semi with the goddamn screen over her lwhile everyone else (*cough* portugal) had to compromise like it’s clear they were always playing favorites also i think we should just abolish the jury vote at this point let the people decide

[anurapoda]

When you stood by me

Words: 743 Vent piece about my sister and my upcoming graduation.

The neighbor's dog barks as a car pulls up beside our home, followed by another that makes us pause. You step in front of me as I continue running my hands through rough fur, and soon the police officer approaches.

His question is simple and we answer without hesitation, "Where is your mom?" after all, it's not like us saying she's inside will make our worlds shatter. Right?

I remember crying as I packed my bags, unsure of what to bring. I remember contemplating if I should bring my rock collection but ultimately deciding against it. After all, we'll be back soon and I can look at them then.

I ask you what's going to happen to our mom, and you say you don't care. I didn't understand the anger behind your words at the time, but now I do. Funny how it took me so many years to accept the truth you had already seen at the age of 13.

With a garbage bag of clothes, a nice lady puts us in a car and we're off. We stay with our aunt for a month, but she has a child of her own and no room for us. Our grandmother takes us of course, she'd never let us go into the system.

She gives me the spare room and you the couch, after all back then I was the little girl who needed privacy. I look back and roll my eyes at that, you deserved it as well.

We move into a bigger house on my 12th birthday, I was so excited. Although both rooms were identical we convinced ourselves one was larger, you got that one.

At least you did for a while. During your time in that room that now stands empty, I watched as you changed. You stopped going to school, you started smoking weed, and soon it became more than that. I looked past these changes and blinded myself to the person that was blossoming from the rubble of who you once were.

It was a hot September afternoon when it boiled over. At the time I didn't understand, I blamed our aunt for sending you to the group home. Although I still don't agree with what she did, I no longer blame her.

I don't think I ate for a few days after you left, too overcome with grief for someone who was still alive. Eventually, we started visiting, those were my favourite times. I ignored the ways you were changing still, assuring myself you were still the sister I loved.

You moved in with our mother when you were 16, I still don't understand why. I followed shortly after, emotionally manipulated by the woman who birthed us. I left after 6 months, realizing my mistake and that she hadn't changed.

When you returned to school I was so proud. You had always been so smart, especially with math and numbers. I always imagined you doing something great someday, maybe becoming an engineer. After all, you did love tinkering with things.

A few months later you would drop out of school for the final time. To this day you have no plans of returning for your grade 12.

I graduate next month. I should be celebrating, but I can't find a reason to. Why am I still mourning someone who's not dead, someone who never existed? Why am I mourning the person I know you could have been?

I do not blame you for where you are now. I know on some level I should, but I cannot bring myself to. You have been through hell and back, and have experienced so many things I was spared of because of your sacrifice. Yet I find myself so sad yet angry when I look at you.

Of course, I invited you to my graduation. I wish I could have attended yours. I wish you were the one on that stage. I wish you were the one going to college this fall. I wish things had ended differently.

I wish you would get the help you deserve.

Instead, I will graduate before you despite being 2 years younger. Will I ever get to see you do the same? I know you could be an amazing person, and it fills me with grief that you've ended up the way you have.

So no, I am not happy to graduate. I am too busy mourning someone who gave up too soon.

[reidingmelodies]

Dinos and Tigers and Donuts, Oh My!

Summary: Spencer wanted one thing this year: for your kids to plan his perfect Father’s Day Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Includes: dad!Spencer, heavy mentions of Father’s Day, mentions and consumption of food Category: Fluff Word Count: 2.6k A/N: This isn’t my favorite, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile all the same! Happy Sunday ♥️

 When Spencer was called away on cases your house seemed to lose a bit of its charm.  Mornings felt more tiring than ever before, the afternoon slumps dragged on for what seemed like years, and dinners, even with babbling five and seven-year-olds at your side, were a little too quiet.

This time around though, things were different.  You woke up to your five-year-old daughter sitting by your feet, her mind preoccupied by one of the search and find books Spencer had bought her the week prior.

The space next to you was empty, a piece of paper lying where your husband previously was, and you knew exactly what it was going to say before you even picked it up.

Good morning, love,

I got called on a case this morning, but it’s local and the team thinks we can wrap it up by tonight.  The kids both ate breakfast- and PSA that they were a little too excited I was going to be gone for the day.  I don’t know what they’re planning, but good luck.  I love you, and I’ll see you soon.

-Spencer

Unlike Spencer, you knew exactly what the kids were excited for, and it had everything to do with Father’s Day being tomorrow- you just hoped he would be home in time to celebrate like he predicted.

You folded the letter and placed it in your nightstand along with the others you’ve found gracing his pillow in years past when your bedroom door opened just the slightest amount.

In walked your seven-year-old son, comically exaggerating his tip toe motions as he stage whispered to his sister.  

“Is Mommy still sleeping?” He shifted his gaze in your direction, all effort to keep quiet out the window when he saw your eyes meet his.

“Mom! Guess what?” you opened your mouth to respond, but your daughter beat you to the punch.

“Daddy left for a work trip this morning!  So, we can make our plan today while he isn’t here!”

There was no denying that your kids loved their daddy, that was for sure.

“That’s so great!” you matched their enthusiasm with ease, getting ready for the day while they kept brainstorming in the background.  

Just last week, you had asked Spencer what he wanted to do for Father’s Day over dinner, and the children were as attentive as ever, eyes wide and lips pursed as they waited to hear the plans for the big day.

But, to their amusement, Spencer’s only plan was that they plan the entire day.  His reasoning was that they were the reason he was a dad so they should be the ones to decide what to do, but really you knew the truth was that he overheard their whispers about having the perfect plan for his day.

A plan you were finally going to be let in on, so it seemed.

The three of you made your way down to the kitchen where you settled down with your breakfast, eyebrows raised in enjoyment at your children.  They were sat across from you with a stash of markers and fresh index cards, and they had a few stacks of previously filled out index cards resting along the center of the table.

Ah- so that’s where they’re going with this.

It had become a bit of a family tradition to have a family scavenger hunt whenever you had a full weekend together.  You and Spencer were all too familiar with the concept of cherishing the time you have with your loved ones, and there were many a weekend where Spencer was called away, or you were busy with a million other plans ranging from extended family gatherings to birthday parties or weddings.

It was all the more reason to make the moments where it was just the four of you count even more- and thus, family scavenger hunts were born.

When they were toddlers, the scavenger hunts centered around finding certain shapes or colors, be it in the house or at the park.  Once every item was checked off you would have a family outing of their choice: the go to choice used to be another trip to the park (the one with the ‘fancier’ slides this time), but with the upgrade to slightly harder scavenger hunts centered on science and math they’ve upped their prize to ice cream.

What could you say? They were Spencer’s kids through and through.

“Wow!” you exclaimed, relishing in the beaming smiles on their faces, “do you guys want to make a scavenger hunt for daddy?”

Two enthusiastic faces nodded eagerly in your direction as your son grabbed one of the red markers.

“Yes! And we can have dino pancakes in the morning and get donuts after our scavenger hunt at the zoo- all of daddy’s favorite things!”

Dino pancakes were a Sunday morning staple in your home- you would use a cookie cutter to cut out a dinosaur shaped pancake, and the kids would eat those while you and Spencer would eat the ones with the dinosaur outline in them (and a few regular ones for good measure).  But donuts instead of ice cream?  That was new.

“That’s a great idea, I’m so proud of you guys for working together to plan this,” you praised, “but why donuts?”

Your daughter peered up from the index card she was drawing flowers on to answer your question, “because they’re daddy’s favorite and it’s daddy’s day!”

“And for our scavenger hunt we want all the animals to spell out ‘best dad ever’,” your son tacked on at the end, already beginning the task of writing numbers and circling them on the front of the card.

That was another newfound tradition for your family.  Now that the kids were learning to read, the two of you would try to have the first letter of each answer spell out a certain word or phrase.  Sometimes, it would be something like ‘I love you’ or ‘hello’, other times it would be the name of a special someone that would be joining you for ice cream afterwards (so far ‘Aunt Penny’ and ‘Uncle D’ were their favorite ones to come across).

You grinned once more, moving to grab your laptop and pulling the Smithsonian’s National Zoo site up to look at their list of animals.

“Alright, my loves- let’s do this”.

***

Three hours, eleven index cards, one snack break, and two very patient children later, your scavenger hunt was finished, index cards clipped and ready to go for the following morning.

Each index card had blank slots, the number of which corresponded to the name of the animal, on the front of the card with three fun facts written on the back.  In retrospect, Spencer wouldn’t even need the slots (or more than one fun fact, to be fair), but you knew he’d make a show of trying to think of each and every animal tomorrow afternoon.

Yet another reason you loved him.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, all of your energy going into spending time with your kids. But once they went to bed, that energy was refocused into prepping for tomorrow to take your mind off the fact that it was nearing 10 PM and your husband wasn’t there.

You couldn’t bear to think of your kids disappointment if he didn’t make it home that night.

Outfits out and pancakes ready to be made, you made your way to the couch when the clock struck 11:30 PM, ready to settle in for a movie while you awaited his return but there was no need- as you walked into the room your husband made his way through the front door.  He looked as exhausted as ever, but the glimmer in his eyes proclaimed what you knew to be true.

He was happy to be home.

***

7 AM the next morning found you face to face with two wide eyed children gently shaking you awake, joy radiating from them as they saw that their father was fast asleep next to you.

With much persuasion in the form of puppy dog eyes, you made your way out of bed and into the kitchen to start the first task of the day: dino pancakes.  

Your little helpers set the table and brought Spencer’s gifts from the coat closet and into the dining room in the meantime, and as you placed the last pancake on a plate two arms wrapped around you and pulled you back tightly.

“Good morning, darling,” his raspy morning voice brought a soft smile to your face, and you leaned your head back to kiss his lips in greeting.

“Happy Father’s Day, Spence,” you laid another kiss against his lips, pulling back as the patter of little feet made their way into the kitchen.

“Daddy!  Happy Father’s Day!”

“Daddy!  Come see your gifts and eat pancakes!”

Two little voices fought for the spotlight, and Spencer kneeled to the ground to wrap the both of them in a hug.  You laughed at the scene, watching as they squeezed him just as hard before grabbing onto his arm and leading him to the dining room table.

“C’mon, Dad,” your son pulled his chair out and pushed his gifts closer to his seat, “let’s eat and open gifts!”

“Gifts?  You guys know I don’t want anything,” his brows furrowed as he looked at you, but you shrugged your eyes and took a bite of your pancakes in response.

“You always say that,” you rightly claimed, “and we always buy you gifts anyway- it’s practically tradition”.

You had a point, there.

Breakfast passed by in a blur of conversation, dad jokes, and present unwrapping.  And just like that, Spencer was the owner of new books to pass his time on the jet, a 5k puzzle you were sure he’d solve in an hour flat, and a homemade Father’s Day shirt with your children’s handprints decorating a globe, the words ’Best Dad in the WORLD!!!’ gracing the blank space.

His eyes sparkled when he saw the shirt, and you swore you’ve never been happier to call that man your husband and the father of your children.

Granted, that thought passed your mind no less than fifteen times a day, but still.

Within the hour, the four of you were out the door and on the way to the zoo, Spencer’s Father’s Day shirt proudly on display.

You drove with a grin, the radio turned off in favor of listening to your children explain today’s scavenger hunt to Spencer.  They were practically giving a word for word verbatim of what the two of you usually told them pre-scavenger hunt, all the more proof that your kids were sponges.

An equally exciting yet terrifying thought.

You were at the zoo within half an hour, your hand intertwined with your son’s while your daughter latched onto her father, everyone eager to start the scavenger hunt.

“Alright, guys,” Spencer began, “what’s our first clue?”

“Mommy can read it!” your daughter piped up and you nodded, grabbing the small pile from her hands before reading the first card of the day.

“Okay, so!  This animal has six letters in its name, and your three fun facts are: whiskers help this animal detect objects around them which helps them navigate the dark, they’re the largest rodents in North America, and when they’re in danger they slap their tail on the surface of the water” you finished your explanation and watched as Spencer’s eyes lit up in recognition, but just as you predicted he dragged the process out instead of guessing right away.

“Hm, it sounds like we should go to the rodent exhibit first!” He proclaimed, and your kids nodded, walking in a row like little ducklings to the exhibit.

The four of you took your time looking at each of the animals, until you came face to face with the animal in question.  “Aha! I think the animal we’re looking for is a beaver,” his answer was met with cheers from both of your children, and you wrote the answer in the blank slots before continuing with the hunt.

At the end of the hour you added an electric eel, sloth bear, tiger, dama gazelle, alpaca, and degu to the list.  Eight animals down, four to go.

Which was fantastic, considering that your kids were starting to get antsy for donuts.

“Okay, guys!  Are we ready for our next animal?” You were walking hand in hand with Spencer, your kids skipping directly in front of you and eagerly shouting in affirmation at your question.

The four of you stepped to the side, and you grabbed hold of the fourth to last index card before reciting the hints.

“Alright so!  This animal is two words, seven letters in the first word and seven in the second.  They have whiskers that look like mustaches, they’re native to the southwest Amazon Basin, and they have claws on each of their toes but the big one”.

“Hmm.. I don’t know guys, what do you think?” Spencer turned to your children, smiling wide when your son giggled in response.

“We can’t tell you, Dad! It’s a secret”.

Spencer laughed, sighing in defeat as your daughter gestured for him to come closer.  He did as asked, leaning down until she able to reach his ear, “I think we should go to the monkey exhibit!”

Her not so quiet whisper brought a smile to both yours and Spencer’s faces, and a grimace to your son’s but to the monkeys you went, where you came face to face with an Emperor Tamarin.

From there you crossed a Von der Decken’s Hornbill and an Eld’s Deer off your list until you had one animal left.

“Alright, my love- last one! This animal is two words, three letters in the first one and five in the second.  They mainly eat bamboo, their fur acts like a camouflage when they climb in trees, and they live in temperate forests in the Himalayas,” you finished your spiel with a quick eyebrow raise towards your children, both of which were not so discreetly pointing at the red panda exhibit just a few feet away.

“Is it a red panda?” Spencer asked, giving both your kids high fives when they jumped up and down in excitement.

“Yay Daddy, you got it! And guess what all of the first letters spell? Best dad ever!” your daughter jumped into his arms and Spencer chuckled, spinning her around and laying a gentle kiss on her head.

“Is that so?” he asked, “you three are too nice to me”.

Truthfully, you didn’t think it was possible to be too nice to Spencer.

“How about our last surprise for Daddy now, my loves?” your question was met with enthusiasm from your little family, and you were back in your car and on your way to Spencer’s favorite bakery in ten minutes flat.

As you pulled up to the bakery, two eager children and one extremely happy father made plans as to what donuts they were going to eat.

It was decided that Spencer would get a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles, your son would get a glazed donut, and your daughter would get jelly.

And you? You had every intention to get your favorite too, but above all you were just happy that another amazing Father’s Day was in the books for Spencer.

The seventh of many.

***

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[dokifluffs]

Injured | Ushijima Wakatoshi

Pariring: Ushijima X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: fluffyyyy 🤧

Request: “Ushijima s/o taking care of him because he’s injured” - anonnie 

Author’s Note: you got it, homie 🤧 Thank you for requesting and happy reading!! <3 I may have gotten a lil too carried away with this imagine 😗😗 

It started when one day, you had to pick up Ushi from his practice about half an hour earlier than it was supposed to end

When you picked him up, he came out with crutches, his left foot bare but wrapped. Kageyama aided him and held the doors open for him, helping him into the passenger seat of your car

“Are you okay?” You asked as soon as he shut the door, the two of you waving Kageyama goodbye as he jogged back to practice

Fortunately, since it was the off season, practice wasn’t too long or as intense. Games were more spaced out than the games during the season, where games then were played more often

“Yeah,” he sighed dejectedly. You could see he was a little bummed out. It wasn’t the first time he had sprained his ankle- this was actually the second time but it happened again on the same ankle

“How’d it happen?” You refrained yourself from adding “this time” at the end. The first time, he rolled it and the doctor said it was a low grade one sprain but to make sure to stretch and be mindful while playing

“We were scrimmaging against each other and Romero got bumped into while blocking, so he handed on my ankle. It didn’t hurt too bad but it’s swelling a bit more than last time.” He looked at his foot as you drove through the city

Instead of going straight back home, Ushi had called his doctor before you picked him up so that’s where the two of you went to first

The day was cloudy, not too sunny but not too gloomy

Arriving there, you helped him out of the car and walked beside him as he walked with his crutches. The office was pretty empty so the wait was practically nonexistent

“You were very lucky this time, Ushijima-san. If the injury had been more severe, there could have been some permanent damage,” the doctor had said after running his physical tests and x-ray

You felt just the slightest bit of Ushi’s hand squeeze yours, his skin rough and warm from practice and years of playing. You couldn’t imagine what it felt like for him, the feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff and any further, he would’ve fallen: his volleyball career would have been over as soon as it started

Any permanent damage to his ligaments would have made his ankle weaker

But it wasn’t permanent. You heeded the doctor’s words carefully: let him rest, ice it for fifteen to twenty minutes every two to three hours, wrap it, elevate it

Again, this wasn’t your first time helping him out when he was injured but last time, it wasn’t as bad as this time. Last time, he was able to walk without applying too much weight that would cause him pain

The drive home from the doctor’s was calm. If Ushijima was feeling anything, you couldn’t read it on his face or the aura around him

“How was your day?” He asked, catching you off guard as you entered the neighborhood

“Oh, it was fine. I was doing a bit of work to get ahead and then I picked you up and here we are.” You worked from home, managing your own personal business as it steadily grew, especially overseas

Arriving home, you helped him out of the car and then held the front door for him. It was bright with a calming ambiance coming from the pale sunlight that shined through the tall windows, the light bouncing off the white walls

“I’m going to take a shower before resting,” he stated as he approached the stairs

You nodded as you dropped off your belongings on the kitchen counter but watched from behind him as he went up the stairs with his crutches, just in case anything were to happen

As soon as he was safely upstairs, you returned to the kitchen and prepared dinner. Music played all throughout the spacious room as you cooked away. You prepared a special hayashi rice for him knowing how much he liked it and maybe, this would raise his spirits a bit more

Though you didn’t even know if he was disheartened or not. Ushi was strong. He has been and always will be. You know this. He’ll rise to the world stage with his team and blow away any opponent he would face. You believed in him

When he came back down, he wore a simple, slightly baggy white shirt and black shorts, his hair just a bit damp but fresh with the shampoo he used

He came into the kitchen, the savory aroma scent of the hashed beef that you made, now dished in front of him as he sat down

The two of you peacefully ate dinner while the walls and lighting changed all around the room as the sun set over the horizon outside. It was quiet, filled with the sounds of the two of you eating, silverware to the dishes

You were actually stumped, not knowing what to talk about. The two of you had been together for years but it felt like the beginning when the two of you were first talking- but the thing was, the two of you at that phase didn’t know what to talk about

“Dinner is delicious, Y/N, thank you for making it.” He spoke, giving you a small smile

“Of course,” you said, bringing a bite of rice to your mouth. “I’ll prepare an ice bag after dinner,” you said, to which he nodded and that was basically all the two of you talked about for the rest of dinner

It felt weird

After dinner, he made his way to the living room, sitting on one of the lounge couches. Only a few slivers of light were shining as much as they could in the distance. You gathered the dishes into the sink but grabbed a bag, filling it with ice

Bringing it and a towel. When you approached him, he brought his leg up, setting it on a pillow

He tried to reach for the bag only for you to step away. “Let me,” you smiled. He sat back and relaxed as you placed the ice bag over the towel, draping both over his leg

“Talk to me, Ushi. You’ve been quiet..” you sat beside him on the edge of the couch. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well..” he took your hands into his. His fingers rubbed across the palm of your hands every now and then as he gathered his words

“I was actually scared..” he admitted, taking you aback. “The thought of knowing how fast everything could’ve ended if it was worse”

Your hands closed around his hands, your thumbs rubbing over his knuckles continuously as you listened

His hands were far bigger than yours, stronger than you could ever know but to him, you were able to make him feel small despite you being up to his neck

The two of you spent the rest of the night just talking in the living room. One conversation let to another, your touch never leaving him

In bed, you made sure to be cautious with your movements, not accidentally kicking his leg

For the first time in a while, the two of you stayed up “late” which was really just an hour later, continuously talking

There was no need for him to be up and early for the next two weeks

It felt like you were falling for him all over again, it felt nostalgic

Sleeping, he laid on his back with a pillow beneath his leg as you slept beside him, your arm resting over his chest, close to his side

For the rest week, everyday was the same for the two of you. You prepared breakfast, lunch, and dinner

You made sure he rested as much as he could but he couldn’t keep still the entire time. He lifted weights and worked with his upper body strength to make sure he would be able to come back stronger than ever

He played calm nature sounds over a speaker as he worked out, though you preferred music, but he preferred natural life

About a week passed and things were going smoothly

But tonight, the Adlers were playing a match against a team from the states and Ushi wouldn’t be there tonight

The two of you sat together on the couch in the dimmed living room after dinner, watching some tv before the game would go on live

You usually watched their games, sure to cheer him and his team on whenever you could but it felt different now that he was right beside you

The game went on and it was intense. The score was constantly neck and neck until the last bits where the Adlers were able to successfully pull ahead

Ushi’s sub wasn’t as strong as he was when he swung but he had a nasty cut, making the other team struggle with getting the ball back up to Kageyama

He made some commentary every now and then about what could’ve been done instead. Some plays even surprised him

He had seen games throughout high school and maybe a few Adlers’ games but the recordings were specific to only him to analyze his plays

But seeing the broadcasts were entirely different

Just as his eyes were settled on one angle, the camera switched

The Adlers were able to win in a 4-1 match

To you, it felt like after watching this match with him, it was like something changed. The usual times he worked out got a bit longer

He asked you to make some changes to his diet, which you complied and you even found him on the call with his doctor about things he could do to strengthen his ankle in a secure way that won’t damage it further while you were working in your office

Around the third week, he began to do some light stretches just to be safe for now and opted to use a single crutch more than two crutches

Whenever you were around Ushi after a game or even before, there were different distinct auras he would project as he drew himself to the game and his opponents

He was so passionate about the sport, you admired him for it

But the aura you felt as he stretched, worked out, the way his arm would snake around your waist a lot more often than when he would be playing everyday

To be honest, you really loved that he was home. Since you worked from home, you were pretty alone except for the days he came back from his practices, games, tournaments, and his rest days

It felt nice that you could take care of him and see him so often everyday. To wake up beside him and to still feel his touch against your skin and body when you woke up

Rolling into the fourth week, he began to stretch regularly. He was slowly able to walk but was careful about how much weight he was putting onto his leg

To return the favor, while you went out to get a couple things before you could really start dinner

He did the best that he could and in his mind, he planned to make a couple of dishes he knew how to- basic ones he’s seen you to so many times

Stepping through the door with a couple of bags in hand, a smile instantly spread across your lips as you watched Ushi standing still in front of the stove, wooden spatula in hand as he did his best to make the first dish

You set the bags on the counter, which he didn’t hear over the sound of the stove

You wrapped your arms around his back, burying your face into his toned back, how nice it felt to feel how warm his body was through the fabric of his shirt

Your hands rested on his chest as you took him in, enjoying every bit of the moment, even if he was slowly burning food

When the smell got a little too intense, you took over though there was no saving what he did but it was okay

“I just wanted to help out as a way of thanking you for taking care of me so much, Y/N,” his voice low in your ear, you could practically hear the rumble in with every word

He rested his hands around your waist with your back to his chest, holding you every so lightly in his arms but not tight enough to restrict you

He stayed beside you the entire time you made dinner, helping you out in any way he could, doing as you instructed

You didn’t know if it was just because of the moment the two of you were able to share but dinner tasted better than normal. Instead of sitting across from him, you sat beside him

He occasionally fed you bits of the dishes the two of you prepared and made together even though he was never really one to do this kind of stuff

It was a very sweet gesture though

Going into the sixth week, you drove him to his doctors once more for a check up. He didn’t need crutches to walk and it was a bearable to apply his weight onto his leg

“It seems like your sprain is almost fully recovered. To be safe, I recommend you continue your stretches but don’t jump right back into playing just yet for the best results,@ the doctor said while inspecting the new x-ray

Although he didn’t say it, you could feel just how eager he was to get back into gears, to play with his team again

He did the most he could to build strength in his legs and body but just enough to not over do it

Before you knew it, you were suddenly standing on the sidelines with a special pass at his first game back, the stadium filled and cheering loudly as the announcer announced his official return after a roughly six week rest

You wore one of his jerseys proudly and cheered him on from the sidelines

He was back stronger than ever and you knew this was going to be another win for the Adlers

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

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[sunjaesol]

i’m getting old, it makes me reckless

canon compliant juke | angst | title: when we were young // adele

The band ended their last song in a clash of instruments and vocals, roaring above the audience yelling the lyrics right back. It was the biggest venue yet, the arena stretching far and wide and holding more people than Julie could imagine. Her throat was aching, but it was all worth it. Every note savoured. Every lyric tasted till it staled on her tongue.

It was the gig before she left for college, leaving a whole lot more behind than this arena with the thousands of adoring strangers.

All four were drenched in sweat. Alex, with his hands red from an insanely elaborate three minute drum solo. Luke, with his callouses aching and slick, barely holding on to the strings. Reggie, no longer wearing his leather jacket and hair come undone. Julie, glitter on her cheeks mixed with the sweat and hair like a raging lion. They looked and felt maniacal. They played the concert of the year. The absolute euphoria they experienced wouldn’t be gone for a while, though her blush would quickly fade.

Now, she could still pretend Luke and her were still together. Now, even Alex and Reggie were kept in the dark from their long dreaded decision. Now, the idea that she stood on stage with the loves of her life was enough for a satisfied smile to bloom on her lips.

“Thank you!”, she bellowed into the mic. The audience didn’t stop. Screaming, whistling, asking for more. Encore, encore, encore! They were all out of songs though, having played their anthem again when they asked for it the first time. Covers seemed like a lackluster ending to the night, the band members shooting each other doubtful looks. The finality of it all ached her.

Luke’s gaze caught hers; troubled, unable to keep the sorrow at bay. Had this been any other concert, she would’ve kissed him backstage and remind him that feeling empty after giving it his all was normal. That she felt that too. She wouldn’t do that though. And she also had an inkling his expression wasn’t about that.

Words pushed themselves out of her throat before she thought about it. “I have something. It’s a cover though. Do you guys like covers?”

Another salvo of applause and shrieks, a sea of phones getting whipped out to capture every move. Reggie approached her with a slight frown.

“What’re you thinking, Julie?”

She moved away from the mic. “Is it alright if I do a solo cover?”

His casual nod caused nerves to coil in her stomach, only now realising what she did. What she was about to do to herself. The bassist made a sign at the boys to get off stage, Luke’s fingers ghosting her back (not entirely, never entirely, she has never truly felt the atoms of his hands touch her) and following the boys into the wings.

Curiosity buzzed around the concert hall, Julie making her way to the grand piano on the left of the stage and attaching her mic in the designated stand. When she looked into void, it instantly quieted down. Her timid voice was like a sharp thread slicing the air.

“This next song, uh…” Swallowing back the feeling of loss that simmered right beneath her skin, she took a deep breath. A needle could drop, so silent everyone heard her pained intake. “I’ve taught it myself a while ago. It’s quite melancholic, but I’ve always been a bit like that, I guess.”

Her feet found the pedals, fingers the well-loved keys. The lights were hot on her skin, yet a certain person’s stare felt more fiery than anything else.

Julie took another steadier breath. “Thank you once more for a beautiful night, LA. This is ‘When We Were Young’.”          

The beginning notes caused another uproar from people recognising the song, lighters and phone flashlights flickering up one by one like stars. She sunk into the notes, let her hands find the familiar path as all she could think about was Luke. Every word would be laced with the memory of him.

He wasn’t gone, but he might as well had stolen her heart and vanished into the night with it.  

With her eyes shut, the first lyrics uttered melodically from her lips.

Everybody loves the things you do From the way you talk, to the way you move

(A fifteen year old Julie watched as the crowd ate up Luke’s guitar solo, the riff an electrifying ensemble of unique sounds that shouldn’t work but somehow did. He played it for them, but his torso was twisted her way, like his body couldn’t decide who he preferred. Back then, Julie presumed it was the crowd, obviously. Music was everything for Luke. Music and nothing more. Sure, that included her and the boys, but she had accepted quickly on she’d never claim that top spot in his heart. And she was fine with that. It hurt a little, except then she’d remind herself of her own love for music and what a gift it was playing in a band like theirs. To be the name people sought out online.

Luke shot some winks to the first row, dropping to his knees to get him even closer to the fans. Alex caught her eye when she turned around, rolling his good-naturedly. Luke being Luke, it meant.

“It doesn’t inflate your ego, does it?”, she teased hours later, slumped on opposite sides of the couch.

He scoffed, a smile edging his lips. “Are you jealous?”

“It is-” she pulled herself upright, brown peering into the curious green. “-merely an observation.”

“An observation.” He mimicked her, all of a sudden not so far away. Their legs were brushing and if she leaned in, she could kiss him. His head tilted, never one to stop teasing. “Right.”

The high of a good performance made her say it. “Do you want me to be?”

When he kissed her, she expected his lips to be cold. Ghost-cold. Instead, they were warm and soft, like in her dreams, and he smiled when she kissed him back - also like in her dreams. It had been short, the way his nose brushed hers a promise for more.)      

Everybody here is watching you 'Cause you feel like home, you're like a dream come true

(They quickly found an escape from the hysteria in Griffith Park. It was closeby Julie’s house and its sweeping nature left enough places for Julie and Luke to hide and be with each other without disturbances. It was a bit unorthodox for a teenage couple to burrow themselves in the forest, but she supposed she threw normality out the window the moment she decided she wanted to date a ghost.

Luke sighed, body dropping on the soft grass and pulling her with him. His beanie fell off, a pleased smile quirking on her lips as she raked a hand through his locks. It was always a cause for celebration whenever he got rid of the hat, the impending doom of baldness something she’d warn him about had he still been alive. Julie pushed the thought back. She couldn’t think that way. A finger curled around a soft strand of hair.  

His nose pressed in her cheek, coaxing her closer until she snugly fit in the curve of his body. Lips moved against her skin. “Can I keep you here? Screw homework.”

Julie chuckled. Her meandering hand sloped to his chest, circling the soft fabric of his sweater. “Unfortunately, calculus and I have a date tonight.”

“You’re seeing someone else?”, he gasped. “Julie!”

“I know.” His laugh reverberated, the sound melting into her skin as she pushed herself impossibly close. Adding, her voice was muffled: “Very sneaky of me.”

Luke’s arms fully wrapped around her, humming contently at their new position of having her half-sprawled on top of him. If it wasn’t for the slight flush on his cheeks, she’d think he completely cool about this. It made her smile. He may act all tough sometimes, but he was just as new to this as she was.

She tapped against the red. “The macho is gone.”

He rolled his eyes, though it held a glimmer of fondness. It was for her, she giddily remembered. The way he faltered in quiet awe, soft and timid, was for her. Reaching to kiss him, the blaring declaration that he was home rang in her head.

She didn’t tell him that. Ever.)    

But if by chance you're here alone Can I have a moment before I go? 'Cause I've been by myself all night long Hoping you're someone I used to know

(“Sixteen,” he bellowed. “Is there a song about being sixteen?!”

She laughed. “Ellie Goulding has one, I think. You wanna sing me a song about being sixteen-”

“Cause you are sixteen!” He hoisted himself on the grand piano, grinning at her from across the studio. She tried as best as she could to match it.

Birthdays have felt like taboo ever since the boys came into her life. She aged, they didn’t, and eventually they would have to disband. Eventually, everyone would notice how they were frozen in time. Eventually, she and Luke would be too far apart in ages.

Julie has dreaded her birthday since the first time her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

Sensing something was off, the frown replaced the grin. “You okay, Jules?”

“Yeah,” she dismissed, waving him off with an air of nonchalance. It was easy for her, something she became an expert in after her mom passed. “Just tired from school.”

He poofed in front of her, hands massaging into her shoulders. She couldn’t look at him. And then she said it anyway.

“Are you okay?”

The unsaid was clear, him stilling as his jaw locked in place. It was then that something cracked between them. Unnoticeable, like a small line in a ceramic cup. They were fine after, but never before had they stamped an expiration date on their relationship. Her simple question changed everything.

He coughed, struggling with the smile. It felt rehearsed. “Course,” he muttered. “I’m good.”)  

You look like a movie You sound like a song My God, this reminds me of when we were young

(He breathed into the kiss like she himself gave him life, hot and open-mouthed and tongues caressing to feel more. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, legs straddling his waist in the safety of her bedroom. He left no space between them. Flush together, fingers pressing into her back, breaths and grins mingling when they parted for air. How she got him breathless, she wouldn’t ask. The fact that he did, was enough for her. He never felt like a ghost to her. Not before they started dating and certainly not now.

Each kiss was like music to her ears. Each touch alighting her skin with sparks of affection and need.

“God, I love you,” he whispered.

Her dazzling smile stretched against his jaw, halting in place. She giggled. “You love me?”

Their eyes met, his hooded from passion as he slowly tracked her face. “It’s not obvious?”

“It is.” A tender kiss brushed his lips, thumbs swiping his cheekbones with that boundless devotion she never wanted to let go of. It was the most blissful feeling in the world.

Julie uttered it right back. “I love you too.”)    

Her voice exploded into an anguished belt, head rolling back as the lyrics flew into the sky. If she hit her notes, if she was making any sense, if the audience was worried - it didn’t matter. Julie needed this. This was her goodbye.

Let me photograph you in this light In case it is the last time that we might Be exactly like we were before we realised We were sad of getting old, it made us restless It was just like a movie It was just like a song

(Julie jumped on top of him in a sneak attack. Armed with her Polaroid camera, she swerved out the way from his grabby hands as she took shot after shot. Her laughing boyfriend snatched her by her side, fingers like spider tickling her until she relented with tears in her eyes. Strewn around them were the pictures, still processing.

“What’re you doing?”, he chuckled.

Julie plucked a Polaroid from her mattress and began waving it around. “You look so cute,” was her simple answer. His grin widened at that.

“Only now?”

“I wanted to capture you just like this. When-” When we’re like this, so goddamn happy and in love. “When you look all…” While Julie mimicked his face, Luke planted his hands on the mattress to pull himself up and give her a chaste kiss.

His smirk eradicated her previous thoughts. “Can’t make a silly face after I have sex with my beautiful girlfriend?”

She hummed, all mushy from his actions. “You can. That’s why I’m taking a picture.”

Luke kissed her again, letting that ‘silly face’ run free and craning his neck to watch the picture develop.

He cried when he didn’t appear. Another crack in the cup.)

I was so scared to face my fears Nobody told me that you'd be here

(An outsider looking into the Molina household would think there was funeral going on. An insider would be even more confused, as Julie Molina just got accepted into USC and rather felt like crying for three full days then celebrate with her friends.

It settled then. She’d go to college, like she always wanted, and have her life radically change once more - not like she wanted. The band was solid, she and Luke were solid. College would change everything. Alex assured her that it’d be fine, that minor adjustments wouldn’t ruin them, but Julie had her doubts.)

And I swear you’d moved overseas That's what you said, when you left me

(He hardly looked at her when she turned seventeen. She couldn’t blame him. Her doubts, fears stacking on top of one another at rapid pace, surged to the forefront. They were the same age. Tomorrow, she’d be 364 days closer to eighteen. Closer to being older, to surpassing him, to hitting their expiration date.

His troubled expression resolved a little later. Back to his bouncy, enthusiastic self, he showered her in kisses and dedicated all the songs at their gig in Raven’s Nest to her. The boys even sang her ‘Dancing Queen’ by ABBA, her appropriately dressed in sparkly flared trousers and matching top. Her fears were forgotten then. Later too, when she giggled as he pulled her into a laughing kiss, the glitter of her clothes staining his own.

Luke was so alive in that moment. Sweat brimming his forehead and buzzing with adrenaline and each kiss rougher than the next. He was real, real, real, real, real, real.

The lie brought her temporary comfort.)

Julie repeated the chorus, body trembling from all the memories hitting her at once. Soon, the numbing final strike would bring her ease. For her sake, for his, for the band. The refrain flowed through.

When we were young When we were young When we were young When we were young

(“What about ‘when we were young’?”, Julie proposed, blue pen pressed into her songbook. Luke sat next to her, slouched against the front of the couch as his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, mustering for the muses to gift them genius lyrics.

“When we were young?” He chuckled. “That’s a joke, right?”

She paused, pen clenching between her fingers as her head turned to look at him. “What?”

He caught her tone, straightening his back with a shrug. “Nothing.”

“No, why do you think that was a joke?”

They’ve been on edge ever since her dad bought her all the USC merch the online store offered. The sea of red draped across her room got him upset, once his favourite colour now his biggest enemy. It wasn’t like they were trying to hurt each other, but…

Julie didn’t know what to do anymore. Songwriting was their usual remedy and even that didn’t diffuse the tension. She wished her mom was here, for advice, except would she be able to give proper words of wisdom when a relationship with a ghost was unprecedented?

All she wanted was go back to the start, when flirtatious jabs were thrown around and they danced around each other. To kiss him for the first time again. She wanted to go back and then continue to go back every time they hit this point. To love him in a loop; to not age.  

He sighed, scribbling an annotation in the margin. “Do you really want me to answer that, Jules?”

Her lips thinned. “No.”

She taught herself the song she was singing right now that night, after he and the boys went off with Willie to some obscure concert. When she woke up the next day, he apologised for his shitty behaviour. It became harder to let love lead when cracks met them at every corner.)

It's hard to admit that everything just takes me back To when you were there, to when you were there And a part of me keeps holding on just in case it hasn't gone

A choked breath caught the fragile note, barely audible for anyone but her.

‘Cause I still care, do you still care?

(“Jules, you’re going to college in a week. You’re gonna turn eighteen and you’re gonna meet other people and you will not wanna tell them you’re dating a hologram that doesn’t fucking age!”

The raging spiel left him in one breath, face red and tears spilling with each hitting word. His shouts were heavy and tinged with devastation. The studio, once a safe haven, was now a warzone. He’s been sitting on those ugly truths for a while, Julie realised, willing herself to not cry. They had the biggest gig of their lives in a few hours and she couldn’t fuck up her face.

Luke didn’t mean to do it either. Both were hyper-focused the day of a gig. Normally, at least. It was simply a cardboard box too many in her bedroom, another proud comment from Ray, another nostalgic remark from Reggie. The fears stacked up for him as well; she should’ve known he’d explode sooner than later.

Her quivering lip gulped back the nausea edging her throat. She couldn’t breath. “You don’t think I know that? I was just- I just-” A traitorous tear slipped out. “I was hoping we’d have more time. Why did it go so fast?” Why did our expiration date race us to the finish line?

Her boyfriend she loved with all her heart stood right in front of her, yet it felt like they were oceans apart.

Trembling hands slid up her arms to her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug. Tearless sobs wracked her body, jaw slack in agony as his action was enough confirmation. This is the end, it meant. They have reached their last chapter. He made up his mind and she wasn’t allowed to change it.

If she did, they’d burn the band with them too.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, face wet with tears pressed into her neck. “I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

Julie gasped for air. “Don’t. Don’t apologise.”

He shook his head, blotched and with a look she never wanted to see again. “If I could change anything, it’s this, Julie. I want to be alive for you so badly - feeling it isn’t enough anymore. You deserve better.”

Furiously blinking, she felt moisture cling to her lashes. “I deserve you,” she warbled. “I love you.”

When he didn’t say it back right away, another tear smeared across her cheek. Her mouth shaped into a please, but he shook his head, shuddering with remorse. “You deserve to be loved out in the open, Julie. Not just in the dark.”

“Please, Luke,” it barely came out, pain squeezing her lungs. “Please. You’re real to me, you’ve always- it was never in the dark.”

He let go of her. The loss of contact made her freeze. His arms hung limp by his sides. Time, for one singular moment, stood still. Her wish came true. Why did it feel like he just disappeared right then and there? Julie bit her lip, waiting for it to happen. It didn’t, but she didn’t dare touching him in case the magic was lost. Luke seemed fearful too, his shivering breaths like knives on her ears. She left before he could say anything else.

Julie wailed and redid her make-up in the backseat of her car until it was time to go.)

The rough vibrato pinched her throat once more, pushing through for the final chorus.

We were sad of getting old, it made us restless Oh, I'm so mad I'm getting old, it makes me reckless

(The year prior, Julie plucked his maroon henley from her bedroom floor as Luke was sound asleep behind her. She shrugged it on and examined herself in the mirror. If she could have it all, she’d wish to never age, to never surpass seventeen and be with Luke forever.

If she could have even more, she’d wish to grow old with him. It was a scary thought to feel so confident about at sixteen, but Julie knew. She just knew. A gut feeling should always be allowed, her mom used to say. This was it.

Julie wished she could do this every day. Stealing his shirt and seeing it fray over time. She wanted stains and holes and fabric thinning from washing it so much. She wanted messy. She wanted real.

Crawling back in his embrace and placing a soft kiss on whatever skin she found that early in the morning, she wished for him to be real until she fell back asleep.)  

It was just like a movie It was just like a song When we were young

The last note settled into arena like a heavy blanket, everyone watching with baited breath as the wrecked singer stumbled out of her seat and muttered another thank you. Her shaky smile didn’t waver while the deafening applause washed over her. It was when she reached the wings and noted the horrified looks of Reggie and Alex, that she realised Luke wasn’t with them.  

“He just…” Alex’ foot swiped across the floor where Luke once stood, aghast. “He crossed over.”

They were always selfish loving one another. To fall, to love, to be in love. The inevitable never stopped being inevitable, and yet they trucked on. Maybe they had become cocky, thinking their hearts were stronger that they actually were. It was all too apparent now. Her heart wasn’t this spiritual thing. It wasn’t made of fairy dust and magical ghost powers. It was made of flesh and blood and it was bleeding.

Luke’s never would.

The arena lights dimmed.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

@blush-and-books @willexx @bluefirewrites @ourstarscollided @sophiphi

[cali-holland]

Love Bug- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: Tom's caught the love bug- well, actually it’s just food poisoning.

Word Count: 1700

Warning: swearing, food poisoning aka vomiting, mentions of sex, secondhand embarrassment

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

A/N: kinda inspired by a part in Interview Troubles part two (but unrelated!!)

~~~

“What are you looking for?” Tom asked Harrison as the blond rummaged through their fridge. Tom took his last bite of the leftover chicken, clearing his lunch plate.

“I’m dumping out the old food before I leave.” He replied, taking out the week old spaghetti leftovers from the fridge along with a few other things, like salad that had definitely sat in the drawer for too long.

“You know I’m still gonna be here, right?” Tom reminded his friend. He set his plate in the sink before starting to unload the dishes. Harrison was going out of town for the weekend, and he wanted to make sure no rotting food would sit in their fridge because both he and Tom were awful when it came to making sure their fridge wasn’t harboring month old leftovers.

“Where’d that chicken go?” He asked as Tom let out an untamed burp, “The lemon chicken?”

“I just ate that.” The brunette replied, “Seemed fine enough to eat.”

“Mate, that was almost two weeks old!” Harrison exclaimed with a laugh, and Tom went red in embarrassment.

“Well, shit, if I die, I die.” He reasoned with a shrug. He could only hope his stomach could bear the old chicken he’d just eaten.

That hope didn’t last long though.

“Hey, darling.” Tom smiled, fighting back the oddly sudden urge to belch in front of you. He greeted you with a kiss, welcoming you into his place.

“What movie are we watching tonight?” You asked as the two of you made your way into his living room.

“I don’t know. What do you wanna watch?” Tom flopped down on the couch, happily pulling you into his arms. It had been far too long since you two could comfortably cuddle on the couch without Harrison interrupting (he didn’t like getting sexiled from his own living room), which is why Tom was quick to invite you, his girlfriend of six months, over when his housemate left.

Once you two had chosen a movie, it had barely gotten through the first ten minutes when Tom started to press kisses to your shoulder, a telltale sign that he didn’t intend on just cuddling you throughout the movie (hence another reason why Harrison would cockblock you two in the common areas). You turned around in Tom’s arms and his lips were on yours instantly. His hands were on your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him. Pressing up against him, you moaned into the kiss. Just as your hands started to snake their way up his shirt, he pulled back.

“What is it?” You asked in confusion, opening your eyes to see the rigid look on his face. Tom was silent as he uncomfortably turned enough that he wasn’t facing you anymore. He let out a loud burp, before turning back to you sheepishly. The intimate scene quickly turned humorous to you.

“I’m sorry.” He laughed nervously. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“Thank you for not burping in my face.” You teased through your own laughter.

“I should go brush my teeth.” Tom admitted, and you bit your lip to refrain from giggling at the embarrassed look on his face. Tom shuffled off the couch, basically rolling over you in the process. As he left the room, he called back out to you, “I’ll be right back!”

You watched the movie by yourself for the next few minutes until Tom came bounding back into the room. He smiled, sitting back down beside you, “Minty fresh. Where were we?”

“Hm,” You pretended to think about it, shifting into his lap, leaning into him, “I think just about here.” You teased before kissing him.

As you continued to kiss him, Tom started to feel strangely warm, but not the usual ‘making out’ warm, instead it was the ‘kinda sick’ warm. With his hands on your waist, he pulled you in tight to him and deepened the hungry kiss. Your fingers tugged on his at the back of his head, and he moaned, never wanting it to end.

But then, he felt his stomach turn abruptly and a wave of nausea washed over him. He knew then that he was going to be sick and here you were making out in his lap. He reluctantly pulled away, and you took that as a sign to kiss his neck.

“Darling, wait.” Tom said, feeling your hands start to creep their way up his shirt, ghosting over his abs.

“You alright?” You asked, pulling away from his neck to look him in the eyes.

“I know it’s a buzzkill, but I- uh, I have to go to the bathroom.” He wanted to groan, as if this night couldn’t get any more embarrassing for him.

“Hurry back.” You laughed, shifting off his lap so he could get up. Tom stood from the couch and leaned down to give you one last kiss.

“Be back before you know it.” He promised. As he was walking out of the room, he realized he had an unusual dilemma. Normally when you were over, he’d just use the half bathroom next to the living room because it was right there, but now, he definitely didn’t want to use a bathroom within earshot of you. He hurried to his own bathroom, far from the living room, hoping you wouldn’t think too much about it. It was one thing to accidentally burp in front of you, it was another to have you hear him shit or even vomit (he wasn’t sure yet which one was coming)- and he didn’t feel like you were at that stage yet.

Tom knew he loved you, but he just didn’t know how to tell you that. Neither of you had said those three little words, and it was terrifying to him that he might say it too early. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, and he was going to do his best to not accidentally mess it up, even if that means he’ll hide his nausea to not ruin this date.

Meanwhile, you were sitting on the couch, watching the movie, thinking about your own feelings. You definitely loved Tom, that was a given. You were just waiting for him to say it or for you to at least have some absolute proof that he loved you too; you didn’t want to say it before he knew it himself. After a few minutes of waiting, you realized how long it’d be and you felt a wave of awkward pity come over you. You contemplated telling Tom something came up because he obviously wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to admit that to you out of embarrassment, but then again you didn’t want to leave him if he was sick. As you sat there, continuing to figure out what to do, you heard the recognizable (and gross) sound of vomiting.

You quietly got up and made your way over to Tom’s bathroom. The door was closed, and you lightly knocked on it. 

“Be out in a minute!” Tom called back to you, flushing the toilet quickly.  His throat sounded dry as his voice shook a little.

“Are you okay, Tom? I heard-“ You paused, not really knowing what to say exactly. You wanted to help him, but you didn’t know if he felt like you two were at the point in which he’d let you help him when he’s sick like this. Slowly, the door opened and you were met with a pale Tom.

“I’m sorry.” He frowned, leaning against the door for support.

“It’s alright. How are you feeling?” You asked, pressing a hand to his forehead. He was hot, but not fever hot. Tom opened his mouth to respond before he shut it just as quickly, rushing back over to the toilet. You sat on the edge of the tub, rubbing his back as he emptied out his stomach. When he finished, he flushed and you spoke up, “What did you eat?”

“Two week old chicken.” He admitted and you grimaced.

“Why did you have two week old chicken in your fridge?” You laughed lightly.

“Because I’m shit at remembering to clear it out.” He sighed, leaning against the wall as he prayed he was done puking. He was in too much discomfort to really feel humiliated by the fact that he three up in front of you, but when you stood up from your spot and made your way to the door. Tom felt his heart drop. He really had just completely made a fool of himself, “Are you leaving?”

“What? No, I’m getting you some water.” You told him, and he smiled weakly at you, a sense of awe coming over his face. “Go lay down, I’ll be back.”

As you went to the kitchen to see what home remedies Tom had, he brushed his teeth (again) and left the bathroom, stumbling his way to his bedroom. He laid down with a heavy sigh, a hand holding his stomach in pain. You got him a tall glass of water and some saltines from the kitchen and made your way into his room.

“You really don’t have to stay.” Tom said weakly as he took the glass of water from you.

“No, I want to. You need someone to take care of you because you and I both know you won’t do it yourself.” You teased, padding across the room to grab his trash can, which luckily was empty except for the plastic bag wrapped in it.

“I think I’m done puking for a while.” He laughed awkwardly, still feeling bad about the whole situation.

“Good. Want some cuddles then?” You asked with a smile, and he nodded.

“Please.” He mumbled. You got into the bed and he loosely wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” You replied, pushing his curls out his face, trailing your fingers on his jaw lightly.

“I love you.” Tom whispered quietly, not fully aware that he had even said those words aloud. When he realized it, he tensed a little and you smiled softly at him.

“I love you, too.” You told him softly. “If you didn’t just throw up, I’d kiss you right now.”

“Yeah, it’s probably best to hold off on that.” He laughed lightly, cuddling in closer to you. 

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex​ @theamazingtomholland​  @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart​ @joyleenl​ @t-o-m-holland​ @lonikje​ @sleepybesson​

Tom Tag List:@quaksonhehe​ @tomkindholland​

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Sunset Swerve - Part 1

Pairing: Luke x OC

Word Count: 2.1K

Series Summary: Apollo 81 and Sunset Curve had been rival bands since their creation, and their leaders, Jordan Moss and Luke Patterson, had despised each other even further. Things were just looking up for both bands as they get the opportunity to play at the Orpheum but a few bad hot dogs send Luke, Alex, Reggie, and Jordan to early graves before they get the chance. 25 years later the ghosts of Sunset Curve accidentally release Jordan from an old Apollo 81 demo and tensions between her and Luke immediately flare. However, they need to band together to finally accomplish their life-long goals: to play their music for the world.

Warnings: uhh some cursing, mentions of death (I mean, the main characters are ghosts)

A/N: I’m officially obsessed with this show and its characters and I would very much like my own hot ghost band please and thanks. Please let me know what you think and send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

Teaser  Part 2  Masterlist

___

The relatively empty theater erupted into cheers when Sunset Curve finished their soundtrack. Jordan didn’t deign to join the venue’s staff in their congratulations; though the band clearly deserved the praise, she’d never admit it out loud. Sunset Curve were good, and if Jordan didn’t despise their lead singer so much she’d probably be a fan but that simply wasn’t the case. She and Luke had been rivals since grade school and it was only fitting that they both started their own bands and had been competing for venues for years. What didn’t make sense was that when Sunset Curve booked a headliner at the Orpheum, they recommended Apollo 81 as their opening act. Jordan could only assume Luke had done it to rub in the fact that they were headlining the Orpheum but still, the venue was a hotspot for record execs- Sunset Curve had given them a huge opportunity to go big.

“We gotta fuel up before the show, I’m thinking street dogs,” Luke’s proclamation was met with cheers from Alex and Reggie, and Jordan rolled her eyes, lifting off the column she’d been leaning against to go find her own band.

“Moss, you in?” Luke called from the stage and Jordan startled, turning to give the boy a look of bewilderment. “C’mon, it’s on me.”

Jordan narrowed her eyes suspiciously but nodded anyway, adjusting her cross-body bag as she made her way to the guys. She watched bemusedly as Bobby made a beeline towards the cute Orpheum employee.

“You guys are really good,” she complimented. “I’ve seen a lot of bands, been in a few myself. I was really feeling it. You guys too.” She said, turning towards Jordan and the girl couldn’t help but beam at the complement.

“That’s what we do this for,” Luke said, clapping his bandmates on the back. “I’m Luke, by the way.”

“Hi, I’m Reggie.”

“Alex.”

“Bobby.” The boy pushed Luke behind him and Jordan stifled a laugh.

“Jordan.” She introduced herself.

“It was nice meeting you guys. I’m Rose,” the girl introduced and Jordan began digging through her bag.

“Here’s our demo and a t-shirt,” she said, pulling them from her bag and offering them to Rose.

She kept a small supply of the merch on her at all times, anything to get their name out there.

“Geez, Moss. We offer you food and you try to outdo us?” Luke said, elbowing Reggie who looked confused for a second before offering up the merch in his hands.

“Oh! And here’s our demo and a t-shirt size beautiful,” he said with a wink, trying to outdo her and flirt at the same time. Jordan rolled her eyes.

“Thank you,” she gasped sincerely before slinging the shirts over her shoulder. “I’ll make sure not to wipe the tables with these ones.”

“Oh! Good idea!” Alex chimed in. “Whenever they get wet they sorta.. fall apart in your hands.”

Jordan snorted as the other guys blanched and the information.

“Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?” Bobby looked pointedly at the guys, silently urging them to leave before they could embarrass him further.

Luke grinned, hitting Bobby’s chest with the back of his hand as he leaned in towards Rose, “He ate a hamburger for lunch.”

The rest of the guys grinned as they walked out the venue’s back door. Jordan turned to smile apologetically at Rose and wave goodbye before jogging to catch up with the guys, her bag hitting her hip as she went.

When she caught up to them in the alley behind the theater Luke was going on about something cliche, wanting a connection with everyone through music or something. Jordan wanted to scoff but, well, she kind of agreed.

She and Reggie broke away from the group at the same time to hand out some of their t-shirts to the fans in line. They were in and out before the fans recognized them, resulting in them calling their names as the pair walked away.

“Great minds think alike, huh?” Reggie joked, bumping her shoulder with his own lightly as they caught up to the rest of the group.

Jordan laughed before furrowing her brow in confusion. When had Sunset Curve started treating her like she was one of them?

It must just be the exhilaration of playing the Orpheum, she concluded as they arrived at their destination.

“Uh, do you guys normally get your hot dogs out of the back of a car?” Jordan remarked, equal parts skeptical and disgusted as she looked down the ally at Sam & Ella’s.

“Relax, Moss,” Luke chided. “A hot dog’s a hot dog.”

Jordan rolled her eyes but followed them anyway, the four of them getting their hot dogs and crowing around the back of the Oldsmobile to add their condiments.

“It would be nice to eat somewhere where the toppings aren’t in the back of an Oldsmobile.” Alex acknowledged, accidentally getting pickle juice all over the owners’ jumper cables.

Once satisfied with their creations the boys plopped down on the sofa across the ally and Jordan perched on one end next to Reggie.

“This is awesome you guys. We’re playing the Orpheum!” Luke began to monologue as the guys looked at him with smiles on their faces. “I can’t even count how many bands played here and then got huge.”

Pride swelled up inside Jordan. Sure Apollo 81 was only the opening act, but they were still about to make their big break right alongside Sunset Curve. There was something poetic about it, two rivals about to achieve their dreams together.

“Eat up boys, and girl,” Luke added, grinning at Jordan. “‘Cause after tonight, everything changes.”

Like a scene right out of a movie, they all grinned at each other before taking their first bites.

Jordan grimaced at the flavor, remembering why she wasn’t a big fan of hot dogs.

“That’s a new flavor,” Alex said, sounding concerned but Reggie and Luke laughed it off.

“Chill man,” Reggie said nonchalantly. “Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.”

____ 25 years later ____

“Hey, what’s this Apollo 81 stuff doing in here?” Reggie called out into the garage.

The guys had just returned from the beach, their spirits lifted by their little jam session. Reggie had immediately poofed up to the loft, curious about what other items were left behind . Luke was sitting on his couch, lyric notebook in hand, inspired by his newfound ability to summon his guitar at will. Alex was laying across the couch with his feet in Luke’s lap, having just previously announced that he was considering taking up knitting to pass the time.

“Maybe Julie’s mom was a fan?” Alex answered, getting up from the couch to join Reggie in the loft, his interest piqued. Neither of the boys noticed the way Luke stiffened at the mention of the band.

Reggie nodded in response to Alex’s theory.

“I wonder what happened to them anyway?” He was sitting on the floor of the loft, the box in his lap as he rifled through some of the memorabilia- mostly flyers from their performances, from small open mic nights to the Orpheum. Reggie pulled out the Orpheum flyer. “Do you think Jordan survived that night? I mean, she was with us when we died but not in that weird room.”

“I don’t know Reg, I can’t see how she would’ve survived when we didn’t.”

“You think she’s still in her own black room? By herself?”

“That’s really depressing Reggie.” Alex deadpanned. “She probably passed on, y’know?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Reggie brightened, returning the Orpheum flyer to the box and continuing to sift through it, Alex leaning over his shoulder as he did.

“Hey! Their demo!” He said excitedly, holding up the CD case. “I always secretly liked their music.”

“I think we all did,” Alex said thoughtfully, falling forward when Reggie poofed out from under him.

Reggie reappeared below the loft, making his way to the CD player left by their new band setup.

Before Alex or Luke realized what was happening Reggie had hit play on the machine and Apollo 81’s “Lost” was blasting through the garage.

“Woah! Reggie, people can hear that and Julie’s not here!” Luke exclaimed, jumping up from the couch to turn it off at the same time that Alex poofed down from the loft.

Before either of them could reach the CD player, something that could only be described as portal-esque opened up in front of them and the sound of the demo was drowned out by a feminine voice yelling “What the hell?!”

___

Jordan hit the ground hard as she was dropped from the portal. She didn’t even bother to stand up, instead letting herself fall flat on her back with a groan, her eyes shut.

What now? Another black room to sit in? She thought with a sigh. Death sucks.

“Is this how Julie felt?” A voice whispered.

The sudden awareness that she wasn’t alone startled Jordan and she quickly sat up, her eyes flying open only to be met with some of the last faces she had seen before she died.

She couldn’t help it, she immediately screamed and the guys started screaming too.

After a moment, the shock wore off (well, sort of anyway. She still had no idea what was going on) and the screaming stopped. Luke nervously offered a hand, presumably to help her up off the floor but she scowled and pushed it away, standing up on her own.

“Why am I back in your garage?” She asked, glaring slightly at the boys as if they were to blame, which they might’ve been. “And how the hell did you change the decor so fast?”

“Okay, well, it’s a little complicated-“ Reggie started but Alex put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Well, you remember when we died, right?” Alex said in a much softer voice than Reggie, and Jordan nodded.

“You mean when you fed me a poisonous hot dog before I could perform at the Orpheum.” She said, glaring at Luke specifically.

“Hey! If you’ll recall, we all ate those hot dogs and we all missed our chance to play the Orpheum.” Luke bit back, immediately becoming defensive.

“Man, I really thought the twenty-five years might’ve quelled their rivalry,” Reggie muttered to Alex and Jordan whipped around to face him.

“Did you just say it’s been twenty-five years?” She shrieked and Alex groaned at his friend’s lack of tact.

“Yeah,” Alex answered, glaring at his bandmates to shut them up. “We died in ’95 and it’s 2020 now.”

“You’re telling me I was alone in that room for twenty-five years?” She asked, her voice becoming louder and more aggressive as she went on.

“Bet probably cried the whole time like Alex did.” Luke snarked and Jordan’s expression grew livid.

“Okay, first of all, crying is a completely reasonable reaction to dying. And second of all, fuck you, you emotionless piece of-“

The song change from the CD player caught her attention and her face broke into a self-righteous grin.

“Were you guys listening to our music?” She asked rhetorically, eyes gleaming at the discovery.

Luke scowled, stalking over to the CD player and turning it off.

“Aw, c’mon, that was one of my favorites,” she whined, following Luke’s steps towards the player and hitting play. Well, she tried to hit play but her finger went right through it.

Luke laughed triumphantly and Jordan stuck her tongue out at him, crossing her arms like a petulant child.

“Oh, very mature, Moss.”

“Oh, I’m immature? Even in death you’re still a whiny, jealous, dickhead!“

“Please! If anyone’s whiny and jealous it’s you!”

“Should we do something?” Alex asked in a whisper, leaning towards Reggie but unable to take his eyes off the two bickering ghosts in front of them. They were like a train wreck.

“Nah, just let them get it out of their systems,” Reggie responded, sounding confident despite past experience with the two.

“You are so self-obsessed!”

“Are you kidding me? You’re the queen of self-obsession!”

“Oh my gosh, I can’t do this!” Jordan exclaimed. “I’m out! See you in hell, asshole!”

“No, Jordan, wait!” Luke called but Jordan had already poofed away.

He slumped to the ground with a groan, head in his hands. “I have to go get her.”

“I’ve got it,” Alex said, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder before poofing away himself.

“You don’t think we’ll actually go to hell, do you?” Reggie filled the sudden silence and Luke shook his head, poofing out of the garage as well.

Part 2

[nobodyfamousposts]

Runaway: Roommates AU

For @a-marlene-s​ and the contest, for the prompt: Runaway

A Harry Potter-based Miraculous Ladybug AU. With roommates.

_________________________________

Marinette was a big believer in luck. She came by it honestly, as there was something of a family belief regarding the unknown force that impacted their lives.

Her Uncle’s luck helped him work his way to becoming a world famous chef.

Her Mother’s luck led her to her husband.

Marinette’s luck gained her a strange roommate and his equally strange cat.

...If there really was a universal force directing fortune as her family believed, she had some questions for it.

It was just Marinette’s luck that the day she met Adrien, she was in the market for a new roommate. She had been sharing her flat for the last five years with her best friend, Alya, and they got along well. But Alya had a boyfriend and they had recently chosen to take the next step in their relationship and get a place together. Marinette understood, of course, but it still left her now as the sole resident of a flat that was outside of her budget and forced to choose to give it up or find some other way to make ends meet that wouldn’t involve giving up food and end up causing Alya and Tikki to stage an intervention.

The choice should be obvious, but Marinette loved her flat and was loathe to leave it. Sadly, she had only been able to afford it previously because she had shared expenses with Alya. On her own, it was more costly than she could afford and more room than she really needed.

But oh...what other place had an extended balcony that was perfect for a garden? Or such wide windows that were positioned to let in light but avoid the sun’s glare? Or had a built in desk and a space she could use as a crafting nook?

She was already having to say goodbye to Alya, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her home, too.

But it seemed that Luck pulled through for her, albeit in a rather...unusual way.

When the blond cinnamon roll appeared in her bakery, looking so lost and confused with no idea what to do or where to go, and nothing with him but a suitcase and an equally unhappy cat...she hadn’t known what to think of him.

Well, that’s not quite right. Her immediate thought had been to take the poor boy in and hug him until he stopped being sad.

Then he tried to pay for a single croissant with an overabundance of a strange type of coin. And it became clear that the man was very much not from around here. And had no idea how money worked.

Or how anything worked apparently, given his multitude of strange reactions to things.

Admittedly, she had been a bit hasty in her offer of letting him stay with her. After all, inviting a complete stranger to live with you was...generally not the brightest idea. If anything, it was usually the setup to a horror movie. But Marinette still went through with it anyway.

To this day, she still didn’t know what made her do it. Desperation, perhaps? Attributing it to her luck and not wanting to let an opportunity pass her? Or maybe it was the way something about him had drawn her in...

Regardless, he had no place to go. And she had a place he could use. It seemed like a mutually beneficial arrangement.

She just hadn’t realized just how lost Adrien was when they first met and introduced themselves to each other. Not until after he first moved in and it became abundantly clear how unfamiliar he was with...well...everything. It was no wonder he had been so overwhelmed when she first met him.

She couldn’t help but want to help him.

She just hadn’t realized what all that would entail...

____________

“Marinette! What is THAT?!”

“That’s the microwave.”

“WHY IS IT BEEPING? ARE WE GONNA DIE?”

“No, Adrien, it’s just popcorn.”

“What are these words?!”

“Do you really not have popcorn in the country?”

“Why is the bag big now? Is it magic? Are you magic? Because—”

She just shoved a couple of the popcorn pieces in his mouth at that.

_____________

"Wait, you mean you don't know how to use a washing machine?"

He shrunk in on himself. "No."

She blinked in surprise. She could have sworn…

“But...then how have you been washing your clothes?"

A long pause.

He simpered. “Can I choose not to answer that?"

She sighed. 

_____________

“Marinette! Your morning wake-up box is beeping. You need to get up.”

She mumbled and turned away from Adrien and the offending noise.

He frowned. “Marinette, it won’t turn off unless you do the thing.”

She pulled a pillow over her head and continued to ignore him.

Undeterred, he approached her bed. Against better judgement, he poked at her to get her attention.

“Mari—”

A hand suddenly made contact with his face. In an all too similar manner to how she would normally try to subdue the ringing wake-up box.

It would take two days worth of apologies and make up gifts of hot chocolate and pastries for him to forgive her.

_____________

She frowned, looking at an expanse of wall and empty space on one side of the den.

“That’s weird…didn’t we have something here before?”

Adrien stilled at that.

“No.” He answered tersely.

“I could swear there was something.”

“Nope.”

She tilted her head, thinking. “I thought this flat had a fireplace? Didn’t we use it sometimes?” She could have sworn...

“You must be imagining things.” Adrien told her, taking hold of her shoulders and trying to guide her to the couch on the other side. “There hasn’t been anything there since I moved in.”

“Oh. Maybe it was a shelf or something Alya took with her.”

“That must be it.”

“Hmm…maybe we could set up a television there…”

“Yeah, sure.” He replied automatically as he drew her away from the area.

So caught up in her thoughts, she never noticed the dirty glare Adrien shot towards the now blank wall.

_____________

She had thought the introduction to television would be the biggest thing.

And she was right.

“What is THAT?” He asked in wonder, staring in shock at rectangular box with moving images inside.

“It’s a television.” She explained, gesturing to the screen as Romero confessed his love to Julia in the Spanish soap opera her cable had somehow allowed her access to.

She bit back a laugh when Adrien attempted to touch the screen. “Are they stuck in there?”

Omg, he was so adorable.

“What? No! It’s…well…it can play sounds and images from somewhere else. Things that were pre-recorded and are replayed for entertainment.”

He perked up at that. “Like a radio?”

Okay, good. So wherever he was from, he wasn’t THAT far behind on technology. Only early 1920’s instead of the nineteenth century like she’d feared.

“Yes! It’s just people pretending.”

“Oh.” He sighed, still enraptured by the TV.

“Yeah, and there are all different types of shows and movies. Different genres and different styles.”

“Styles?” He asked, finally tearing his eyes from the television to look at her.

“Sure. There’s live action, CGI, animation—”

He blinked. “Animation?”

“Yeah, like cartoons and anime.” She frowned, considering. “Actually, I think there’s…what channel was it on again?” She used the remote to flip through channels until she reached one particular network that was currently playing some anime she vaguely recalled.

Adrien gasped, his eyes even wider than she had previously thought possible. And there was a particular shine to them as he stared at the TV like it was the holy grail. He barely noticed Marinette anymore, now standing in front of the TV and completely enthralled.

Marinette chuckled softly to herself as she lightly took his arm and pulled him back so they both sat back on the couch. Adrien let her, his gaze never straying from the screen as the teen magical girl protagonist transformed to fight the monster of the day.

That was the day Adrien was first introduced to anime.

It was also the day Marinette inadvertently created an otaku.

_____________

One day, he had called her in a panic while she had been at work.

“Adrien?! What’s going on?” She asked.

“It…this thing just came out and it’s crawling the floor! IT ATE PLAGG!”

She balked. “WHAT?”

“He tried to attack it and—wait. Plagg? You’re alive! What are you…NO WAIT PLAGG, NO!”

Marinette had practically thrown her apron to Tikki and rushed home. Within minutes, she had reached the flat and slammed the door open to what could only be chaos.

Or at least the sort of chaos that comes with Adrien huddled with his legs held up on the couch and glaring in betrayal as Plagg proudly sat atop the Roomba that was still making its way across the floor.

And…

Yeah, Marinette couldn’t.

She just couldn’t.

It took a good five minutes for her to stop laughing.

Adrien pouted the whole time, muttering about traitorous cats and roommates.

And Plagg continued to ride the Roomba. Looking for all purposes like a king, even when it knocked into the counter at one point and an empty can of Camembert fell on his head.

Marinette just laughed harder.

_____________

She had slowly been introducing Adrien to the world. Bit by bit. One lesson at a time. And with each day that passed, he seemed to become more comfortable with her and the world at large. And while he never said much about his life before, what he did say (and what he didn’t) was more than enough to paint a picture. One that Marinette didn’t like and made her silently swear to herself she would be having WORDS with his family if she ever met them.

But Adrien had been getting better. Happier. More outgoing as time passed. 

He had even gotten a job at the coffee shop as a barista. Which was kind of amazing, to be honest. He didn’t know anything about coffee, but he seemed skilled at mixing things. When she had asked, he made a comment about “potions” being his best class.

Funny guy. Though she wasn’t sure she understood the joke.

There was also just…something about him that seemed to draw people in. Whenever he was working the register (after he had finally learned how to work the machine and count money, and wasn’t THAT an experience in itself?), the number of customers seemed to grow exponentially compared to other days. It just didn’t make sense. Adrien just smiled and said it was part of his charm.

Another joke she didn’t understand.

Tikki seemed to get it though. Her friend was also a bit weird, but she and Adrien seemed to get along rather well. It was like they shared a bond of some sort.

To be honest, Marinette was a little jealous.

But she was happy for him. He was really growing over the months they spent together. Wherever he came from, it didn’t seem to be the healthiest place. Adrien certainly never wanted to talk about it, so the best she had to go on were his behaviors and conjecture.

He seemed happy, at any rate. He was able to leave the apartment now. He was making friends, and seemed to be getting rather popular even. He had a job—not that he seemed to need it given how much money he had…even if he had no idea how to use it.

Who tried to pay for a pastry in gold coins anyway?

Ah well. It didn’t matter.

Whatever happened, he was her weird roommate.

And she wouldn’t have him any other way.

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

Adrien liked his “roomie”. Marinette was…nice. She was patient and took the time to explain things when he didn’t understand. She didn’t yell at him for making a mess—which he did…often. She smelled like cookies.

And most importantly, she didn’t ask questions.

Oh sure, she gave him weird looks fairly regularly. And she was clearly confused by his lack of knowledge about things that were normal to her. But she never ridiculed him for it. If anything, she was teaching him, and he had to thank her for it—especially for anime. Because this? This was awesome!

She was the best roommate he could have asked for.

Even if she was a Muggle.

He shouldn’t be with her. Or here at all. How could things have possibly worked out this way? Or even half as well as they have?

Adrien Agreste was a Wizard. The son of Gabriel Agreste, a high-ranking official of the French Ministry and personal friend of the French Minister of Magic. He came from a long line of powerful Wizards and no blood pollution.

At least…not until his mother, whom had been a half-Veela.

Gabriel hadn’t known at the time when he chose to pursue her. And it remained questionable to this day whether it had been her Veela charm that had driven him to her in the first place. But he had been furious when he had realized it, and it was considered a dark mark on the family line.

Maybe that was why she was gone? It was certainly why Gabriel had kept Adrien isolated for most of his life. At least until Beauxbatons. But even there, things had been…stifling.

A private room. His classes carefully chosen for him. Personal tutors. And his interactions with other students were kept limited to avoid anyone falling under his charm. But even then, his heritage gave him an aura of some sort. One that made people in awe of him, but only further increased the distance between him and everyone else.

Sure, Chloe was there, and she had been his childhood friend, but the Minister’s daughter did not endear herself to anyone. And when it became known he was her friend, it hadn’t helped matters.

It was little wonder that a number of the other students avoided him.

Other than ones who wanted to use him.

Like Lila Rossi.

He hadn’t known what to think of the girl. She was popular enough, sure. But her stories rang false to him and she tended to treat people around her like helpers rather than friends. He knew from the start that there was something about her that was untrustworthy.

Lila…had an unusual interest in him. One he didn’t like. It made him uncomfortable.

And yet somehow, she wormed her way into his father’s good graces. So much so that of all people, Gabriel had decided to arrange a marriage for Adrien to her. Because of course it just made sense for the two to get together.

Not that Adrien’s opinion had ever been consulted on the matter.

Gabriel was nothing if not stubborn though. Once he had set his mind on something, that was it. Adrien had never won an argument against him. And he knew he wouldn’t win here either. Even when it was his own future on the line. Even when it was his life being decided for him.

So he ran.

It was quite possibly both the best and worst decision of his life.

He had been completely lost and overwhelmed at first. And almost immediately questioned his sanity. But he just couldn’t let himself back down on on this one. Sure, his father had always been somewhat overprotective of him and controlling of his life. And he had been fine with it. Mostly. Kind of. Not really.

But an arranged marriage was just…too much? He ended up gathering his more important belongings into his trunk and taking off with Plagg before he had even realized what he was doing.

Adrien had kicked himself afterwards. He had always given in to his father’s orders before and it turned out…well, not “fine”, but all right, at least. Surely…surely this wasn’t that big of a deal right? That his father was selecting his wife for him? That his future would be set in stone before he even really had a chance to figure it out for himself.

He was an adult now. Surely…he could choose what he wanted to do, right?

Well, he was an adult, sure, but he knew nothing about the world. And especially not the Muggle world, where he had escaped to in a rash bit of insight. Because surely his father would never think to look for him there? His father didn’t know anything about the Muggle world, after all.

Except then Adrien had realized all too late that he hadn’t even known anything about Muggles, either. His father wouldn’t let him take the Muggle Studies class, so he knew nothing about what they were like or how to fit in. He had money on him, of course, but what currency did Muggles use? How did he convert it? Where could he even look to for a place to stay?

Within two hours, he was regretting everything. He was debating giving in to his fate when Plagg had seemed to get an interest in something and ran off, resulting in a chase that led Adrien to a quaint little coffee shop.

If nothing else, he could take a break here and regain his bearings.

But…

Everything had smelled so wonderful. And the pastries looked heavenly. He had known it was a bad idea, but…well, maybe they could accept Galleons here?

How many Galleons were one of these pastries worth?

Well, a dozen should be enough, right?

The strange look that the girl gave him only made him want to duck his head in shame.

It wasn’t enough, was it?

But as if she was proficient in Occlumency and could tell exactly what he was thinking, she instead took him aside and talked to him. And despite himself, he told his story.

Well…half of it.

A third?

A little, at least. Just enough to give the basics of what she needed to know.

And it turned out to be enough, as she made him an offer he’d had to have been a fool to refuse.

That was how he ended up sharing a home with a Muggle. A sweet and strong woman whom, for all of their differences and completely separate worlds, he had felt closer to than anyone he had known in the Wizarding world.

She didn’t understand where he came from. And he certainly couldn’t tell her. Wizarding laws and secrecy and all. But she was still trying to help in her own way. And he could tell her…some things, at least. About his feelings. About his wants. Things he had never been able to tell his father. Things his father had never cared to listen to.

But she listened. And she cared. And she offered shelter. For him and Plagg, regardless of how much a of a pain the cat could be.

He had his own room, sure. But it was a quarter of the size of the old one and somehow all the better for it. While bare at first, the walls were eventually covered in silly posters from his favorite anime. The shelves were filled with books and toys, little knick knacks that actually made him happy to see. Some things Marinette helped him picked out. A lot of which were just things he saw and wanted. All sorts of things he had never been able to get back…there.

And he wasn’t stuck in the room either. He could leave it whenever he wanted. Spend time in the living room and watch the “television” and feed his growing love of anime (once he had gotten rid of the fireplace because he wasn’t about to risk someone trying to get in through the Floo Network, even by accident). Play “video games” with Marinette. Go on the balcony and enjoy the sun. Even just go out into the city whenever he wanted.

It was…a truly marvelous experience for someone who had been isolated for so long.

He even had a job now, working at the very shop where he had met Marinette. He knew nothing about coffee or the machines, but Potions was his best class and one he enjoyed. Mixing and cooking things to create something new was a rather amazing thing. And while coffee weren’t potions, he had come to realize that certain things he had learned in his class could translate over. A difference of heat and changing the length of time the coffee was allowed to roast resulted in a different flavor. Though he did have to fight for the position with another coworker by the name of Tikki, a friend of Marinette’s whom she introduced him to.

And that was the other thing…

“You’re a Wizard, aren’t you?”

He had admittedly not expected to run into anyone from the Wizarding world at all. But the short red-head with twinkling blue eyes caught him off guard completely.

Even as she smiled sadly at him.

“Marinette doesn’t know, does she?”

Dumbly, he could only shake his head in response.

He hadn’t wanted to be discovered. Not by anyone.

It turned out to be for the best though. Tikki was a huge help in getting him more acclimated. She explained to him more about fitting in as a Muggle. She even led him to the nearest Wizarding Bank where he was finally able to change his Galleons to the correct currency.

As a Witch herself, he knew she wouldn’t reveal him. And it was nice…having someone else who knew, even if she didn’t know the full story. She was still in touch with the Wizarding world and could help him. Giving him news or updates, point him to the nearest hidden shops for anything he might need. And yes, even laugh with him over his latest failures.

“It’s not funny!” He pouted as Tikki was practically howling after hearing the latest story about King Plagg the Roomba Rider.

“Yes, it is! YES, IT IS!”

“I even have video.” Marinette added cheerfully, much to Tikki’s pleasure as both women proceeded to look at her cellphone and chortle over the recording. Adrien was simply ignored and left to sulk.

He would never live it down.

It had been months like this, and some embarrassment aside, he had thoroughly enjoyed it. All of it.

He even enjoyed working. Though he admittedly felt a little guilty that his Veela charm seemed to draw in customers to the point where there would often be a pretty long ling just to order coffee. But Marinette and the other workers just laughed it off.

He was…really starting to consider this home.

The coffee shop. The city. The flat.

Tikki.

Plagg.

Marinette.

Rooming with Marinette was probably the best thing to happen to him. He had been trying new things. Learning so much he hadn’t known previously. Seeing things. Doing things.

Living.

It was...nice. It was home. It was everything he wanted in a home. Even if he was banned from activating anything besides the television when Marinette wasn’t there.

He was ever grateful that Plagg had led him to her.

[cilldaracailin]

Killer Queen

Hello my Tumblr Lovely’s!

Happy Friday and Happy Holidays to me! At last a week off work! I am off an adventure down to the South West of Ireland and I am super excited for a ‘staycation’. Won’t come back with a tan but maybe a typical Irish accent instead!

On another side note, this is the last part to Killer Queen but Robyn and Taron will be back in a few weeks on another adventure. Thank you so much for all the love and comments. It’s been another fun time for them both!

Hope you all enjoy!

Suze xx

P.S The picture of the Spice Bag does not do it  proper justice but it is the closest one I could find that looks like what my local Chinese has but believe me it is one of the best things on an Irish Chinese take away menu and is so delicious!

7

“Because of you. "I believe I can love, and be loved with the heart.”

“Why haven’t you introduced me to this yet!” Taron said through a mouthful of chilli and salty chicken.

Robyn smiled at him as she dipped her fork into the paper bag to pull a chip out. “I am sure I have told you on many occasions that I can’t tell you all my secrets in one go. Otherwise you won’t come back and visit me again.”

“This is delicious. We don’t have these in Wales.”

“It’s an Irish thing.”

“I love everything Irish.”

“No, you just love food.”

“True.” Replied Taron as he took another piece of chicken from the bag. “But I also love everything Irish too.”

Robyn had walked him to her favourite Chinese take away in the town and ordered what she called a spice bag which was basically a brown bag filled with chips, breaded chicken strips, onions, peppers and carrots all coated in a salt and chilli spice flavouring. They took two forks with them so they could eat it as they walked but instead of going straight back to her house, Robyn directed him towards a picnic bench on the grass banks of the canal and they sat down to eat, sharing the food and a bottle of water between them.

“Taron?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you so much for the hug earlier and coming back stage. I definitely needed the hug and that’s twice now you have defended my honour.”

“And I managed to dodge the punch this time.” He added.

“Yes you did. Good reflexes.”

“And you are welcome. I think I needed the hug too. I will never let anyone take advantage of you like that Robyn. Never. No one has any right to take kisses from you, from anyone. Kisses are a gift that are willingly given.” He said as looked everywhere except Robyn’s face but he felt a cold hand on his cheek and he had to look at her. “Robyn?” He asked as she moved closer to him and carefully placed a light kiss to the right side of his lips.

“Just giving you a gift.” She said simply as she reached for the bag of food in his hands for herself. “This was a good idea. I was hungry.”

Taron licked his lips as Robyn was distracted by the Chinese and he begged his racing heart to slow down. Now was the perfect time to show Robyn what a proper gift of a kiss was but he was still so wary of what Keith had done that he wanted to be absolutely sure Robyn was ready for that moment.

“You were amazing again tonight.” Taron reached for the bag and stabbed two chips with his fork.

“I hoped the tension wasn’t too obvious.”

“Wouldn’t have known it was there if I didn’t know about it.”

“The judges from AIMs were there. I really just wanted to do the show justice and then that fucking arsehole had to fuck it up.” Robyn spat.

“You did chicken.” Taron assured her. “You have such energy on stage and this presence that you bring so everyone is caught up in your performance. You give everything you have to the songs and the way you portray your characters.”

“Well you have some experience with that Taron and know how important it is to give your all to the role you play.”

Taron chuckled. “Yeah I do.”

“I am glad your prep for the movie has gotten a little easier.”

“Me too. Getting my head around the script and Matthew’s vision has really eased some of my worries with it. It will be tough but worth it all.”

“No singing in this one though.”

He smiled. “No.”

“How will you cope?” Robyn teased him as she reached into the bag to pull a piece of chicken out with her fingers.

“Will you be sad when the show is over on Sunday.”

“Always. Probably have a tear or two as well. I get so emotionally involved and I hate saying goodbye to a character I have played. It has been the best week so far.”

“Two shows tomorrow?”

“Yep. It is probably best that you have to go back to London early. I will be pretty hoarse by tomorrow evening.”

“You hoarse and quiet? I don’t think so.” He laughed, giggling as Robyn tried to stab his hand with her fork but went for the bag of food instead. “You’ll miss Mimi?”

“Yeah.” Robyn ate the pepper she picked up with her fork. “She is fun to play. Don’t really wear hot pants and leather normally.”

“Or throw such risky dance moves around.”

Robyn chuckled. “I was waiting for you to mention those.”

“I did see a few moves that were more suited for an adult movie I think.”

“I was told to go for it and I did.”

“You definitely did. Maybe you could throw a pair of hot pants or a leather skirt into your wardrobe now that you have tried them out.”

“Sure, I will wear them to work on Monday.” Robyn looked to Taron. “Oh, you were being serious?” She half smiled. “You liked the outfits then.”

“Maybe.” He answered her, taking a drink of water from the bottle to distract himself from saying more.

“Then maybe I will think about it.”

Once they had finished their spice bag, they slowly walked back to Robyn’s house, Taron turning on the fairy lights once they were inside.

“You must be knackered Taron.” Said Robyn as she pulled her jacket off. “You didn’t have a great sleep last night.”

“I am actually ok and you are wearing my shirt again.”

“My shirt.” She countered. “We have had this conversation before. You give me your clothes, they become my clothes and returning to the conversation of sleep, let me shower quickly and we can sleep.”

Taron nodded. “Lyndsey told me I needed to sleep before Sunday.”

“You spoke to Lyndsey?”

“Oh yeah I never told you. I rang her when you headed down to the hall earlier.” Taron came to stand beside her, pulling the programme from his back pocket of his jeans and put it on the island beside her jacket. “Just to check out the photo. It was spread to the usual social media platforms but that was it. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“And she told you to get some sleep. Good.”

Taron leaned against the island once he had emptied his pockets. “I told you she looks after me on tour.” He reached over and tugged on the end of the shirt tails that Robyn had tied together. “I never thought to wear this shirt this way.” He grinned.

“Take note for future styling.”

“Hey will you do something for me?” He asked as he walked a little away from her and to the drawer he knew she had a sharpie in. “Will you sign this for me?” He handed her the marker and moved the programme closer to her.

“You want me to sign this?”

“Of course.”

“But why?”

“Because I want your autograph.” Taron opened the programme to her page. “Right here.” He pointed to beside her photo. “Come on Robyn. To Taron, love you lots, your chicken.” He teased.

Robyn chuckled and pulled the lid from the sharpie and started to write a little note, keeping her left hand in the way so Taron couldn’t see, picking up the programme and blowing on the ink to dry it before she closed it, putting the lid back on the marker.

“Right I am going to go and shower.”

“I will be here.”

Robyn turned to walk away but turned back and gave Taron a hug.

“What’s this for?”

“Just trying to get some extra ones in and because I don’t think you actually realise how much your actions this evening mean to me and I can’t quite explain it in words so hugs work just as well.”

Taron returned Robyn’s hug, surprised she was lost of words. She was normally one to talk her way out of anything, to make him feel better with her words but now she was stuck with what to say and as he leaned his face into her neck, felt a little sad for her. It was crystal clear that Robyn was very much used to being by herself and strong for herself alone and she was finding it a little difficult to believe someone else was prepared to give their all for her. “Go and shower and then we will get set up for our second sleep over. I think you are tired too chicken.”

“A little.”

Taron kissed her cheek. “Take as long as you need.”

Once Robyn had left his arms and made her way to the bedroom, Taron picked up the programme and flicked to Robyn’s page. ‘Dearest Taron, thank you for being my only and number one fan, my knight in stripes and a hat and giving the best warm and cosy hugs in the world and my tent. I am glad I kissed you in Florida. My love always, Robyn xx’.

Closing the programme and with a grin fixed to his lips, he rubbed his eyes. It had been a roller coaster of a day and he was definitely ready to sleep and get his last cosy duvet sleep before tomorrow. He followed Robyn into the bedroom and hearing the shower start, knew he was good to quickly change into his shorts and a black tank top. He figured at some point during the evening he was bound to be in cuddle with Robyn and wanted to be cosy warm and not over heated warm.

Once back in the kitchen, he routed through the presses for the cupcakes and brought the full packet and two glasses and a carton of milk into the tent, smiling as he saw cwtch and draíocht still sitting and smiling.

“You two best buddies now?” He asked out loud. “Just going to have to move you both. It’s my time to sleep now.”

He picked the dinosaurs up and moved them to in front of the couch and pulled the duvet back so tonight himself and Robyn could actually sleep under it. Last night both had fallen asleep on top of the soft material but tonight he was going to get into the make shift bed and prayed it would help him sleep. His nerves for the upcoming tour were also contributing to his lack of sleep and it was normal for him to feel a little apprehensive about it all, even though he had done a promotional tour many times before. Robyn being the most popular topic of conversation lately always made him nervous as he tried not to become defensive with his answers and be factual and keep his tone light and cheery, almost by passing the topic at times but after his last few days working, it was definitely a smile instead of a frown that fill his features when he was asked about Robyn. Taron lay down on the sheet and closed his eyes, feeling completely exhausted all of a sudden. Coming to see Robyn always brought new adventures for him and these two days only further deepened if it was possible, his love for her and perhaps a little bit more hope that she loved him too.

As Robyn dried her hair, she couldn’t help the long yawn fill her whole body. She was ready to lay down in her tent that Taron had made for her and sleep. “Taron.” She sighed as she unclipped some wet hair and separated the strands, clipping one half back up again. With the brush in her left hand and hair dryer in her right, she thought about her day as she dried her hair. Her wonderfully chaotic day. Their walk on the beach that morning felt like it was days ago to her and she smiled as she remember how excited Taron was when he finally won the dinosaur from the claw machine and smiled even more when she remembered how he had asked Jane to lead him to her during the break in-between the musicals first and second acts so he could give her the most welcomed and incredibly close hug but also how he had stood up for her, again. She was slowly getting used to someone doing that for her and Taron was quickly becoming someone she knew she could depend on for anything and she hadn’t had someone like that in her life for a long time.

Finishing drying off the last section her hair, she blasted the cold air over her whole head before tiding the dryer away and getting into her new PJ’s and t-shirt, tying Taron’s top up again at the bottom so it didn’t hang so loose on her.

She strolled out into her living room and couldn’t see Taron anywhere so figured he was already in the tent. She ducked in under the opening and stopped when she saw him lying on his back, one arm above his head, one on his stomach, his eyes closed. She half smiled as she saw what he wore.

“You would think it was twenty degrees outside.” She said as she sat down beside him. She knew he wasn’t asleep. Robyn could easily tell the difference in his breathing as he slept and now it wasn’t deep enough for him to be sleeping.

“I easily over heat.” He simply replied not opening his eyes.

“You should go and see someone about that.”

“That I am hot?” He opened one eye and laughed, seeing her roll her eyes at him. “You walked into that yourself.”

“Yeah I did. You look cosy.”

“I am. So cosy I don’t want to move to give you the cupcakes and milk.”

“You brought treats into the tent?”

“Do you even know me?” Asked Taron as he sat up on his elbows. “Course I brought treats.” Taron rolled onto his knees and pulled over the cupcakes. “We didn’t get to eat these last night.” He then brought over the milk and two glasses. “A quick bedtime snack.”

Robyn moved to sit closer to him and he opened the plastic container of cupcakes and took one out and handed it to her.

“Thought you were going to smush it in my face there for a second.” She said as she carefully peeled the wrapper off.

“I did think about it but that would be waste of cake and you have just come out of the shower and I know for a fact you would get me back and get me back worse.”

“I am glad you are learning.” She replied as she took a bite from the small cupcake, Taron stuffing a whole cake into his mouth once he got the paper off, Robyn shaking her head at him.

“What?” He asked through crumbs.

“Nothing.” She said with a smile, taking another bite from her cake.

“What?” He asked again once he had swallowed.

“Nothing. You mentioned milk?”

Still not convinced with her answer, Taron reached for the milk carton and poured the two glasses half way full, passing one to Robyn.

“Thank you.”

“No worries.”

Satisfied by chocolate cupcakes and two glasses of milk, and once both had made a trip to the bathroom, they settled in the tent. Taron was concerned about leaving the fairy lights plugged in but Robyn assured him it was ok because they were LED’s and she wanted to enjoy the tent for one more night before it had to come down.

“And you have left me to take it down.”

“Your father told me he would help you take it down.”

“I might just leave it up.”

“Your father will help you.”

“I am happy to leave it up.”

“Robyn?”

“You made it for me.” She answered him quietly as she buried her legs under the duvet and lay on her right side.

“You will have to get your sitting room back at some point chicken.” Taron pulled the duvet up over his legs and copied her stance but lay on his left side.

“At some point.” She agreed getting her head comfy on the pillow. “Thank you for coming Taron and coming a day earlier. It’s been another wonderful two days.”

“Yes it has.” Taron lay down, his body a little higher than Robyn’s. “You know what you would just perfect it?”

“No.”

“Taron cuddles.”

“Ok.” Shuffling over, Robyn lay her head on Taron’s shoulder, feeling his arm curl around her while he used his other hand to pull the duvet up over the two of them. “Night Taron.”

“Goodnight darling.”

Closing his eyes, Taron knew it wouldn’t be long before he fell asleep but he willed his body to stay awake for a little while longer so he could enjoy holding the woman in his arms who snuggled deeper into his body, her head now on his chest, her hand on his stomach but surrounded by comfort, Taron soon fell into a deep restful sleep.

They were used to the journey to the airport, having made it together many times before but for some reason, there was a different feel to the atmosphere as they rode the escalator together to get to security of the departures.

“We will see each other in two weeks chicken.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Ok well can you at least pretend you are not sad?”

“Ok.” Replied Robyn.

“And yet you have perfectly acted on sage the last four nights but still can’t get that sadness from your voice.”

“I am a little sad.”

“You haven’t been sad before when we were at the airport.”

“Sure I have but obviously managed to hide it better.”

“It’s two weeks. We have gone two months before without seeing each other.”

“I know Taron.”

“What is different about this time.” Robyn shrugged her shoulders. “It’s my tour, right? Robyn please don’t be worrying about me.”

“I always worry about you.”

He smiled a little. “I know but you don’t have too.” He saw the look she gave him and his heart melted. “And you are going to call me all the time to tell me I need to sleep after you have watched my interviews even though I have told you not too.” He gently tapped her nose.

“You know me so well.”

“I do and I know you need a hug.”

“Always.”

With a chuckle, Taron pulled her close smiling as her hands went to their usual place on his lower back and neck, while he buried his nose into her own neck. “I am not used to this.”

“Used to what?” She asked him.

“Having another person care so much about me but I suppose I should be used to it by now. Been that way since Florida.”

“Yep but I am getting used to it too.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not been easy opening up and you know why but for some reason with you, I just feel so comfortable and free and I trust you.”

“You just want more cuddles.”

“You benefit from those too.” She laughed but her laughter died down. “Please look after yourself.”

“I will.”

“And enjoy every minute of it.”

“I will.”

“And it’s ok to talk about me if you have too. Don’t avoid the subject of us ok?”

“I won’t and I will.”

“And sleep.”

“I will.”

“And drink lots of water.”

“I will.”

“And smile.”

“I will Robyn.”

“And make sure you promote the arse out of this movie because I know how proud you are of it and how hard you have worked to finish it and I am proud of you too.”

“I will and I know.”

“And Taron?”

“What chicken.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Taron chuckled against her. “You done?”

“You want me to keep going?”

“Would love too but I can’t miss my flight.”

With a tight squeeze, Robyn let him go. “I have something for you.”

“I figured. You brought a bag with you and once again I have nothing for you. Breaking all the present rules Robyn.”

She smiled as she picked up the backpack from beside her. “This was an unexpected gift.”

Taron watched with interest as Robyn unzipped the bag and his eyes opened as he saw a hint of green fur, even more so when she pulled the green dinosaur from the bag.

“Robyn…”

“Draíocht is yours Taron.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” She dropped the bag on the floor and held the dinosaur out to him. “I have cwtch, Rosie and Mari have theirs and this one, well this one is for you.”

“Chicken…”

“You told me that this was a girl dinosaur and because it was green it represented me. Well cwtch is you and he is mine so it only makes sense that you get draíocht and bring her home to London with you and then back to Wales.”

“Rosie and Mari will take her away from me.”

“Not when you explain about how we all have one. You need this Taron. You need to bring her with you.”

Taron took the dinosaur in his hands and looked to Robyn, his beautiful, sweet and considerate Robyn, who once more had managed to give him something so wonderfully thoughtful. “I will bring her home with me.”

“Of course you will.”

“And carry her through the airport?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. “And on the plane?”

“She makes a good pillow but I wouldn’t do that to you.” Robyn picked up the backpack. “This is for you too.”

Together they got the dinosaur back in the bag and zipped closed.

“Thank you Robyn.” He dropped the bag at his feet and wrapped his arms around her, suddenly feeling sad like Robyn was. He loved being around her, being with her and the distance was quickly becoming a problem. “You are too good to me.”

“I try.”

Both felt the deep breath the other took and the second one too.

“I really should go Robyn.”

“One more minute.” She spoke, her words a little muffled as her face was tucked into his chest.

Robyn didn’t want to let him go. Taron was so familiar to her now and she couldn’t even begin to describe how it felt to her to have him around and know he was around and there in Kilcreen just for her. She was beginning to truly understand what it was like to have someone actually really care for her and be interested in her and treat with the respect she absolutely deserved and getting a taste of it, she hated having to say goodbye to him.

“Minutes up chicken.”

“One more.”

Taron gave her back a rub and then with his hands going behind his back, awkwardly took her hands from him. “I really have to go Robyn.” He said to her as he held her hands. “I will call you when I can but call me whenever you want.”

“Ok.”

“And I will let you know about Paris as soon as I know.”

“Ok.”

“And watch all the interviews you want.”

“Ok.”

“Robyn, stop saying ok.”

“Ok.”

Looking down to her, he saw tears in her eyes. “Robyn?”

“Sorry I am being a girl.” She took her hands from his and wiped her eyes.

Taron chuckled. “Never apologise for being a woman, not a girl. I get it Robyn. I really do.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I will call you and see you in two weeks.”

“Ok.” She laughed when he frowned. “Sure Taron.”

With one last squeeze, Taron finally walked away from her, swinging the backpack onto his left shoulder and Robyn watched until she couldn’t see him anymore.

“See you soon rocketman.”

[beautifulletdownfics]

Twenty Good Reasons :: Part Four

Hello! Welcome to the ‘Someday, Someday’ sequel! I hope you’ll enjoy your time here! Before you start, make sure you check out the Harry & Nina Chronology page to catch up on a few of the drabbles and novellas that slot in the gap between ‘Someday, Someday’ and ‘Twenty Good Reasons’. As always, please don’t be strangers, posting into the void is a terrifying thing! Love K x

++

Harry

We had a bad week after New York.

I posted a photo of Nina on Instagram when we went out for dinner the night after her interview. She thought it went well and came out with a big smile on her face, so I suggested treating ourselves while we were in the city. We went to the prestigious restaurant, The View, on the forty-seventh floor of The Empire State building and there was something about the soft lighting and the glow off the window that made Nina look absolutely gorgeous. So, I took a photo of her and explained it to the world with only a red, heart emoji.

I didn’t even think about the fact her engagement ring was in plain sight.

The fancy decor around us and the decadent looking dessert in front of Nina had everyone thinking I’d proposed that evening. In actual fact we had been engaged for almost a month and the real proposal involved muddy wellies, and dark chocolate digestives and tea as the celebratory meal. But by the time we were back in the apartment we were staying, the internet was alight with the ‘announcement’ of our engagement.

And it was fine, in a sense, because we hadn’t been hiding the fact we were engaged. Our families and our friends knew, and it was news that we weren’t going to be able to keep to ourselves forever. We had hoped for it to trickle out calmly. Perhaps it was both Nina and myself proving we were in denial a bit, that we didn’t want a big, public fuss to be made. Really though, the reality was that no matter how it was revealed, news that we were getting married was going to be made a fuss of.

So we got back to the apartment, took a few deep breaths and then started getting used to the idea of people knowing. Nina turned off her phone, and I talked to a publicist about them releasing the statement we wrote the week after we were first engaged, the one we wrote in preparation for the news coming out

Then, we made a pot of tea and watched an episode of America’s Next Top Model before bed.

The following evening though, things got a little bit hairy when it came to getting into JFK for a flight back home.

It seemed that because everybody knew we were in New York, even more paps were camped outside the airport knowing at some stage one or both of us would be heading back to the UK. And it was just their luck that we were going home together. Upon later reflection, I was glad it wasn’t just Nina on her own.

I knew as soon as we were out of the car to get into the terminal building that Nina wasn't okay. Her grip on my hand was a little too tight to just be so we didn't get separated in the crowd. I could feel the tips of her nails pressing into the skin above my knuckles and her palm was completely rigid in mine.

She didn't cry until we were in the first class lounge, and even then it wasn't until I had settled her on one of the couches and gone off to get us refreshments at the bar. We spent the next twenty minutes in the closest cuddle position appropriate in a private place and Nina sobbed into my chest while we waited for our flight to board. I knew they weren't tears of regret, but ones of fear and apprehension because she was about to get a whole lot of attention for the next little while. Attention she had managed in small doses over the years, but there would be nothing like what was to come.

The next thing happened when we walked in the door at home.

Nina turned on her phone after the flight and there was a missed call and voicemail message from the job interview. She called them back straight away with shaking hands after we had a quick discussion about what the time over there would be.

She sat down on the sofa as soon as someone answered on the other end, I sat on top of the coffee table in front of her, our knees bumping together. I reached out for her free hand when she said she was fine with being put on hold as her call was directed to the correct person.

I became clear pretty quickly than Nina didn’t get the job. From the way her eyebrows drew together and her voice became her small, quiet one I knew what was being said to her was hurting. I felt an awful form of guilt, or something equally as horrific, watching the person I cherished most in the world getting kicked when she was already down. I wanted to take the phone off her instead of having to keep listening to Nina with her chin bravely up, thanking them for seeing her and considering her at all. In that moment, I didn’t dare let myself entertain the fact I might actually be to blame by being openly against the whole thing.

We didn't really talk about it until the next morning. I was keeping an eye on her but not pushing Nina to talk. I could tell the difference now—after more than four years together—between when Nina was processing, and when she was shutting down. And this time she needed to process.

When we did talk though, I could see the forced optimism behind her words—that she knew this wasn't the end of the world—but I could also see that in that moment she was still disappointed and upset. And because I didn't know what the best thing to do would be, I let her stay in that place.

It was at breakfast on our first Saturday morning home together that Nina declared bravely, “I’m okay, you know, Harry? I can tell you’ve been worried about me, but I’m okay, really.”

I carefully turned around to her, holding out the frying pan and scooping a spoonful of eggs onto her plate. She had been sitting, hand juicing oranges into little glasses for our breakfast, while I was in charge of the cooking of the hot foods. A few pieces of egg fell off the side of the plate and it was second nature for Nina to quickly scoop it up with her fingers and drop it onto the toast.

“I know you’re okay,” I said, almost sounding absentminded, but really I was distracting myself with our breakfast while my mind whirled through ways to keep everything okay, “I’m just …”

“You’re waiting for a breakdown,” She accused calmly, when I looked up at her she had a loving, gentle smile on her face.

It killed me, “Neens.”

“Really, I should be offended you have so little faith in my emotional state,” She joked, but it was an evil, self-loathing humour.

“Don’t,” I said darkly, “That’s not funny.”

She moved around the counter to put the juicer into the sink, her palm brushing around my side as she went, “Humour is a coping mechanism.”

“I know,” I replied quickly, turning around so I could keep watching her move, “Just tell me what’s going on in your head.”

Nina lent back against the sink, her legs looking longer than ever when she wore the little running shorts that had become Saturday’s uniform, “I didn’t get the job,” She shrugged, “There’s a bit of mess in my head, but I know there’ll be something else for me, some other job.”

My thoughts tripped on the mess in her head, “What’s the mess?”

Or you could write the damn symphony, I thought to myself.

“Just … You know, that I’m not good enough,” Nina gave nothing away on her face, which made it worse, “Or I’m not as good as I think I am. I’m self centred, stupid, facetious, undeserving.”

My gut instinct was to tell her to stop talking about herself like that, to stop thinking about herself like that, but I knew I needed to validate her feelings. I just hated that I knew exactly where that voice echoed from.

“That’s a load of fucking bullshit, Nina.” I began carefully, “You know you’ve worked hard, you know you have a boat load of talent.”

“I do,” She nodded, “Just hurts is all.”

It was her small sniff that got me, “C’mere.”

Nina stepped forward heavily, shoulders slumping the closer to me she got, “We’ll laugh about this later on.”

When she was pressed against my chest I pulled her against me as tightly as I could, “I could never laugh about a time when you think you’re any of those things you just told me.”

I felt Nina’s sigh all down my body, “Can we do something together today?”

With one more tight squeeze I let her go slowly, “Anything you like.”

*********

We didn’t do this nearly enough.

We packed a picnic rug into the back of the Rover and stopped off at our closest high street in Highgate. Nina picked all the food from the deli while I went into a cafe across the street to get take away coffees for us both. We met back at the car and it was then only a few minutes to get up to the furthest east side of Hampstead Heath, which somewhere along the line had become our favourite spot.

The walk wasn’t far to the big, old tree that we liked best. Nina lay out the blanket, half in the shade and half in the sun. I smiled to myself when she claimed the shaded spot and blurted out a pun to her that earned me a kick in the bum as I lowered myself down in the sunshine.

We chatted while we ate until we ended up lying side by side with empty containers littering the space around us. Nina’s head rested on my shoulder and my arm wound around her easily, her fingers looping through mine over her chest.

“What would happen if we slept out here?”

I hummed in thought at Nina’s question, grin cracking my eyes open despite the glare, “Probably not a lot. It’d get really cold and we would regret it, I imagine.”

Her voice sounded sleepy and drawn out, but happy, “I loved camping as a kid. We should try it at home, then if it sucks we can just go inside.”

“Solid plan,” I agreed.

Nina let out a long sigh then, her shoulders tensed with it and when she took the breath back it caught at the back of her throat, “I was going to say we should try it next weekend but with all the snow it’s likely we wouldn’t make it through the night.”

I ran my hand up and down her arm, “I’m not sure why you’re so nervous about going.”

“It’ll be fine,” She decided bravely, “I know that. And once we’re there it will be great to have everyone together for a bit.”

“Ah,” I caught onto the detail of what she’d said, even if Nina herself hadn’t meant to, “You’re nervous about the getting there bit.”

Nina sighed and rolled over onto her tummy beside me, “I didn’t enjoy coming back from New York last week.”

“Neither did I, Neens.”

“It’s alright,” She diverged bravely, “Plenty of time for sleeping in the garden after.”

After tour is what she meant, but we both knew it didn’t work to make plans for a time so far away. It was better to concentrate your time and energy on making things good at that time, instead of how we could fix things months later.

“We could try this week,” I humoured her, pressing my smiling lips to her temple, “But I’m not sure you’d look particularly cute frostbitten.”

“Don’t you have a hero complex?” She asked through a smile, “If I had frostbite you could save me.”

I shook my head, “Nope, I don’t find the thought of you injured at all appealing. No.”

She whacked my chest and I cracked into a grin at her laugh, “You’re the one who gets injured anyway, aren’t you?” Nina teased, “At least this time you have to be on your best behaviour before New York.”

“What?” I scoffed cheekily, “I could do an eight month tour with a broken leg. What are you implying?”

“Your leg definitely wouldn’t be in a cast for eight months, idiot.”

The time suddenly struck me; eight months.

Nina watched my face carefully as I’m sure my happy demeanour crumbled right before her eyes. I’d been home in London off the Asian leg for seven weeks and by next weekend, there would be another five months of shows ahead of me before a break and then three more.

“H,” She whispered quietly, swallowing thickly herself.

“Eight months is a long time,” I brought my lips together and pulled myself to be sitting up. Nina scrambled to do the same.

“We’re starting off happy, right?” She quoted myself back to me. “I know I stomped about a bit about Canada but it really is a lovely idea, Harry. Everyone’s so excited.”

Hiring a chateau at a Canadian sky village and having both our families away for a week’s holiday had been my idea. An attempt to somehow disguise the start of another leg of the world tour behind the thrill of all being together in a new, beautiful place. Nina and I loved the snow, and we loved Canada. I thought if maybe we were all looking forward to the holiday, we might not dread the beginning of another long period of separation.

“I feel like I’ve been on tour the whole time we’ve been together,” I admitted.

“You mean my fiancé has had a steady, reliable job that he’s passionate about? Yeah, sounds right,” Nina smiled; always the optimistic peacemaker, always diplomatic in her responses. Too much like me.

“You can be mad, you know?” I told her, not completely buying her playful bit.

She smiled again, it was soft and warmed her whole appearance from the inside out, “I don’t want to be mad, Harry. I’d much rather miss you while I have to and look forward to a time, years down the track, when you’re trying desperately to convince our kids you used to be cool.”

I felt a zap of something magnificent down my spine, something happy and safe and wonderful.

“And naturally, you’d be arguing on affirmative for that.”

“One hundred percent,” She responded. “Little Pippa and Scott, we’ll have them convinced.”

I let my body fall back against the picnic rug, covering my face with my forearm and letting out a resounding groan, “Those are not the names of our kids!”

Nina giggled and let out a squawk when I blindly reached for her waist and pulled her back down beside me again, “Those are perfectly reasonable names!”

“Pippa,” I said the name with as much distaste as I could muster, “Is a great name for a cat, not a child. Not to mention the fact that’s almost exactly how people in New Zealand say ‘pepper’.”

“What about Scott?” Nina asked through a laugh, already knowing full well my dislike for the name.

“You’re mean,” I told her, “Not at all sympathetic to my childhood trauma.”

“You were an adorable child, Harry,” Nina pulled herself up to press her lips against mine in a steadying kiss, “Kind—inside and out—right to the core.”

Scott was the name of the grade one bully at my school. At some point over the years, my mother had divulged onto Nina stories about a much younger version of myself trying desperately to ‘save’ the schoolyard  bully. It was my mum’s fault too, all those life lessons about the people who needed friendship the most were probably those being mean to you. I tried to make Scott O’Conner like me, I tried to make everyone else like him as well.

It had been a summer weekend, I remember that much. Nina and I were staying with Mum for a few days and it was gloriously warm the entire time. The very first night Nina and I had a conversation in bed, one that I’d been desperate to have but unsure how to broach; to know what Nina thought about having children. We were just coming up to our first anniversary.

I hadn’t wanted to be presumptuous and just assume that, like most other people, she would want to have kids one day. I really hoped that was the case though, I’ve always wanted children. Nina was so loving and caring, I couldn’t imagine her not being a mother one day.

The conversation beneath the duvet had taken us well into the small hours of the morning though, because with my question came a heartbreaking response. It had been a sobering moment in our relationship, and one that, looking back, I could see I’d really stepped up. It was a moment you recognise the adult version of the you that you walk around as everyday; not really thinking too much about things until all of a sudden you have to deal with the responsibility side of things.

“Harry,” The Nina lying on her back in the middle of Hampstead Heath beside me interrupted my thoughts, “What were you thinking about?”

I turned on my side to talk to her, “That first time we spoke about having kids, when we were in Cheshire at Mum’s.”

She bit her lip and I knew she understood exactly the time I was referring to, “Seems like worlds away, yeah?”

I frowned, “Do you feel differently?”

“No,” Nina shook her head, “I just meant that lots has happened since then, that’s all. That was a non-hypothetical hypothetical time, you know? Like, now we’re engaged and that would’ve been what …” She paused to think, “Three and a half years ago … I mean, now … Now it’s—

—It’s going to be me,” I finished, knowing it likely wasn’t what she was going to say, but that didn’t make it any less relevant, or true, “I’m the one you’ll have kids with.”

I trained my eyes onto Nina to watch her next move. She let out a long breath and reached her hand out for one of mine, “When we get there.” She said as some kind of mantra, “Worrying about it now won’t help.”

I leant in and kissed her lips slowly, “You’re … We’re doing everything right for now. Stay healthy. Stay on top of everything now.”

She nodded feebly.

The ‘everything’ was Nina’s depression.

Nina’s depression that I had found out that night in Cheshire haunted her in more ways than I was initially aware.

I knew everyday was a battle for her, and I had been around long enough to know it was unreasonable to expect it was one that we could win everyday. But I hadn’t realised that Nina’s depression had her looking forward to possible events in her future with unease.

Post natal depression, she had told me, was considerably more likely for her.

In a moment of true, absolute honesty she told me she was afraid of having children. She was scared that she wouldn’t be able to be the mother they would deserve, and just as importantly, the mother she wanted to be.

Right from the very beginning of knowing her, I’ve never been good at handling Nina when she was crying. I never knew what to do, never knew if it was one of those times it was appropriate to let her cry or if I needed to find away to make her stop. Her sadness made me nervous because in the back of my mind was the fear I might lose her to it.

But in Cheshire that night I could do nothing but cry with her. Because it was devastating, one of those things you don’t think about until you come face to face with someone who lives it as a reality every day.

And even though, at that stage, we hadn’t been together all that long it was utterly shattering, to hear Nina confess she wanted to be a mother but was terrified to do so. And it was shattering in a beautiful way as well, because there was already such a respect for parenthood, and a consideration for life that didn’t exist yet.

“Harry,” Nina called me back again, “You’ve got pre-tour distracted mind.”

“Sorry,” I shook my head at myself. “We should get on home, shouldn’t we? If we’re going to pack tonight.”

“Yeah,” Nina agreed easily, but I knew from the look in her eye she was worried about whatever had taken my mind away from her in that moment.

I took the back of her neck in the palm of my hand and pulled her forehead up against mine, “I love you.”

She scrunched her nose up at me, “I love you too, let’s get married.”

I shrugged, feigning mild disinterest, “Sure, why not?”

*******

The following evening Nina, my mum, Gemma, Laykn and I were on a flight from Heathrow to Vancouver. Nina’s parents were flying from Manchester and would arrive in a few hours before the rest of us. From there it was an hour drive to the Whistler ski resort. If everything went to plan we would all be together in just over twelve hours.

It was chilly in London, although I knew the weather we were going into would be even colder. I loved the feeling that dressing for winter gave, a warmth and snuggly one that had me wriggling my toes in my boots and happy to be sitting with Gemma as we waited in the British Airways First Class lounge.

“You’re going to break a bone this trip, aren’t you?” She sighed dramatically next to me, settling down again after I had dropped a scalding cup of coffee down my leg during a competition with Laykn to see who could balance a cup on their knee for the longest. My poor mother had leapt up to apologise to the staff profusely for the mess and Nina gave me a threatening glare from her spot sitting talking to her brother.

“I’d say at least a minor sprain.”

We were quiet again for a few moments when I felt her take in a charged, suggestive breath of air, “Is everything alright?” She asked quickly, “I mean … Are you and Nina good? You seem … You seem fake,” Gemma finally admitted, a hint of sadness in her tone, “But you’re both trying really hard not to be.”

I hadn’t expected anyone else to notice, but that was a silly thing for me to have thought, especially when we were about to spend the next week with our families.

I considered my words and then calmly turned around to face her, “We’re good. And Nina’s good as well … I’m just not very good at leaving. It’s the same old guilt that I don’t think either of us knows how to deal with, and … A fear that we’ll be next, you know?”

“Next?” Gemma asked curiously, our words whispered comfortably between us. My big sister had always been a safe place.

“I guess the longer you’re together the more of your friends you see breakup,” I explained, “And, I mean, Tim—from my band—and his girlfriend Alexis got together long before Nina and I did. They broke up just before I came over for Nina’s performance and … It’s rattled us.”

“Yeah but even people who are married forty years have to start somewhere, H,” She responded prudently, “You can’t measure you and Nina against other people.”

“I know,” I replied gently, “But … I guess them breaking up has shaken me. I really looked up to Tim in that sense, how he’d kept his relationship going after so many years doing what we do. I always figured if Tim could do it, so could I.”

“You still can, Harry.”

“No!” I backtracked quickly, “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I know that, and I will. I’m keeping Nina and I together, and I don’t care what I have to give up for it. But … I guess Tim and Alexis breaking up has been,” I tried to think of the right sounding word and failed, “Like, sort of humbling? In the sense that you get hit in the face with the fact the people around you aren’t invisible, and neither are you.”

“Is that why you …” Gemma shook her head and then fell silent, “Don’t worry.”

“Is that why I what?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her slightly and trying to read where she might be headed.

She cast her eyes down and pulled at the rings on her finger, “Did you see the article on the Juice website about how your proposal was—

—That article was a load of horse-shit that got taken down,” I returned angrily, “Don’t think so lowly of me.”

“I don’t!” She defended, “And I love Nina, you know I do, H. But what I’m saying is that it looks—

—It doesn’t matter what it looks like, Gem,” I hissed, looking around to make sure no one else had cottoned on to our heated exchange. Only our Mum was watching us uneasily, “It only matters how it is, and as someone who knows how it is I can’t believe you’d even try to have this conversation. Or that you’d consider something written on a fucking gossip rag before what you know of your own brother.”

I stood up and went to leave her.

“Harry!”

I turned back around briefly to tell her just one more thing, “Next time keep what you read in your free time to yourself, Gemma. I proposed to Nina because I want to marry her. And you already knew that, so stop reading shit that’ll rot your brain.”

I let out a long breath of frustration, trying to shake the bubbling feeling that came from arguing with my sister. Nina didn’t see me coming, and kept talking to Laykn next to her even when I picked up her hand and started pulling her to her feet.

“Hey!” She yelped, breaking eye contact with her brother and pushing her other hand against my chest, “I was talking, Harry, don’t be rude.”

“You can keep talking,” I mumbled, switching our spots and taking the seat that she had been in, “C’mon,” I coaxed, now gently leading her to sit on my lap, “You won’t even notice I’m here.”

They settled back into their conversation and Nina relaxed in my arms as I wound them around her middle, settling my cheek against her back and looking at my Mum.

“Gemma’s got a guilty look on her face, H,” She whispered my way, concern on her features as she reached out to push my hair out of my face.

I briefly looked across to see my sister looking at her lap, not engaged in conversation with anyone.

“Yeah,” I said carefully, “Well, she deserves it right now, Mum.”

“Harry,” She scolded me lightly.

“She does, Mum,” I insisted, leaning closer to urge out the next words, “She knows better than to pay attention to anything the paper’s are saying about me. And I’d give her a lot more than a guilty look if Nina ever caught wind of it from her, I tell you what.”

Mum was frowning at me harshly, her eyes wide in disbelief, “What did she say?”

I shook my head, “I’m awarding her the courtesy of not taking it any further and moving on from what she implied, if it comes up again though …” I let out another sigh, “It won’t come up again.”

******

Over the years, I found myself developing unique and invaluable relationships with each member of Nina’s family. And my relationship with her mother was similar to that which I shared with my own, there was the playful exterior with a startling ability to get soul-crushingly honest, very quickly.

Today though, in this moment, it was merely fun that glimmered in her eyes beside me, “You should’ve assigned the rooms.”

I scratched at the back of my aching neck, Nina sleeping on my shoulder had me sitting in a funny position the whole flight over, “Yeah, someone’s going to end up concussed from the sound of it.”

Nina, Gemma and Laykn were thundering around our chalet for the week, yelling out and bickering over who would sleep where and what the best features of the place were. It was an impressive house; five bedrooms, four bathrooms, three living areas, a huge kitchen, an indoor pool and fully stocked library. Online Nina and I had gushed over the wooden finishes and beautiful furnishings and in real life I found myself even more impressed.

“This is quite the house,” Mae breathed out and when I looked down at her there was a weariness mixed with her appreciation. I didn’t know what to make of it.

For a second I wondered if this was all a bit much, but I was steadfast in the belief that this was a good idea. A family holiday was exactly what I wanted before I left again, this was the foundation I wanted for tour and these were the people I wanted to make the most of for these last few days.

Just as I was about to try and express something of that sentiment to Nina’s mother, Nina herself appeared at the top of the stairs. Her hair was handing down around her face as she leant over the banister around the platform above the main, downstairs living area.

“Harry! I got us the room with the big windows! The one we liked on the website? Laykn was up there but I won the rock off.”

Her happiness made me laugh, and I felt Mae’s hand on my back in gentle encouragement to go with her daughter, “Go team! What’s the balcony view like?”

Nina held out her hand down the stairs toward me, “Come see.”

We passed Nina’s dad in the master bedroom, and Gemma and Laykn in another arguing their way around who would have it but Nina’s hand in mine was steady and firm, pulling me where she was going without a falter in her step.

I’ll happily follow this woman the rest of my life.

“Oh,” I nodded as soon as we climbed the stairs into our room, “Yeah, this is ace, isn’t it?”

“Feel how comfy the bed is,” Nina encouraged, letting go of my hand and instead wrapping her fingers around my hips to lead me in the right direction.

I flopped down, face first, on the mattress and let out a groan when the tight muscles in my back all started to loosen up painfully, “Fuck, this is good.”

I felt the bed dip down as Nina climbed up on it as well, her knees pressed into my side and I felt her fingers at the base of my neck, massaging slowly, “Sorry I slept on you the whole flight. Will I leave you to nap until dinner?”

“No,” I moved and rolled onto my side, “If I sleep now the jet lag will be even more funky. I think just a shower and fresh clothes will be good. Then we should go into town and find somewhere to eat.”

“I thought we were going to get a big grocery delivery and have those ‘family cooking sessions’ you love so much,” Nina laughed musically above me

I scoffed playfully and waved her idea away with a lazy hand through the air between us, “Nobody cooks on the first night, silly. I want to eat a moose tonight.”

Nina held my gaze skeptically, working hard to keep her lips tight while I wriggled my eyebrows at her, “You’re not funny,” She deadpanned eventually.

“Because everything in Canada has a picture of a moose on it?” I continued with the same lame joke.

“Yes, I know,” Nina wasn’t doing well at pretending she didn’t find me endearing.

“Just getting into that Canadian spirit!” I said overly cheerfully.

“I’m sure it’s all the locals do, Harry, all day.”

Eventually Nina and I untangled ourselves from each other after I tackled her into the bed just to get her laughing. I showered and found her curled into a corner spot on the downstairs sofa, surrounded by everyone else. Laykn let out a loud cry of support when I suggested we all venture out for a meal together.

And it was that first night spent eating, drinking wine and laughing together that formed the precedent for our week together.

A week of lazy, slow mornings followed by snow walks, afternoon naps and evenings cooking meals together. Nina and I had our moments alone out in the spa or going for strolls after dinner when everyone else was comatose from eating. Our parents went on antiquing day trips to near by towns, stopping more than necessary for coffee and cake breaks. Laykn spent his days going to the nearest slopes, usually taking one of us with him; a few days he managed to get Nina, Gemma and myself to go along although we were more of a hinderance for not being particularly winter sports savvy. Other times Nina and Gemma would disappear with our mother’s to explore the local shops and I’d find myself drinking beers with Laykn and Nina’s dad at the house.

Always though, there was everyone around the dinner table together at night, talking back and forth between everyone’s lives. There was the renovations my mum was doing on her house house, or Nina’s parent’s trip they were planning to Asia, Laykn’s study, Gemma’s boyfriend, Nina’s work, and my music.  

It was a safe place to talk about it all, even the emerging record burning a hole in my mind. Because all the times it came up, or one of them would ask to hear a little bit of it, I knew the reaction was always loving, always supportive (for the right reasons) and always proud. Even if I didn’t know when or how it could work, to have the unwavering support of these people.

*******

“Harry?”

I let my eyes flick from my phone screen to Nina beside me in bed, the brightness of the screen and darkness of the room having me squinting to make out her features, “What’s up?”

“Your work phone is buzzing.”

It was then that the vibrating against the wooden bedside table registered to me, “Oh.”

I pulled myself up into a sitting position, dragging some of the duvet off Nina’s chest which had her sluggishly sitting up as well. She leaned over and turned on the lamp but I’d managed to fumble the ringing phone into my hand. I was quick to swipe to answer and extract myself out of bed to take the call, a heavy panic rising to my throat as soon as I saw what number was calling.

“Sorry,” I mouthed back at a confused looking Nina as I yanked open the balcony door and slipped out into the cold. “Hello?” I said down the phone.

“Harry, mate, I know you’re on holiday with your family right now. And I hate doing this to you—

“—What’s happened?” I demanded quickly, bracing a hand again the frozen railing and trying not to think of the last time I got a call like this.

“We think it’s happened again, mate.”

[thewritewolf]

Inseparable Chapter 29: Kwami Swap

Several years later, Marinette and Adrien swap kwamis as the final stage of their training.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

@ladynoirjuly2019

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Landing on one of the towers of the Notre Dame Cathedral, Marinette slowly stood and looked out over the city of Paris, marvelling at the view her new senses afforded her. No wonder Adrien had always loved to patrol at night. Seeing the city bathed in moonlight through the magically enhanced sight of the black cat miraculous was a wonder. But as her tail flicked back and forth with a mind of its own, she realized it wasn’t all perks. She stilled it with a moment of focus.

Five years of using the ladybug miraculous saw her hands go toward her ears when she heard the beeping, but she caught sight of the ring’s paws before they reached that far. She still had a few minutes before the transformation ended, but here was as good a place as any to recharge.

Stepping into the shadows of the old cathedral, she willed her transformation off. “Claws in.”

Plagg appeared with a yawn and a stretch. “About time. You’ve been out for ages, Pigtails. You tryin’ to wear me out?”

“Can’t have you causing mischief in our new house, now can we?” She scratched at his ears as she handed him a hunk of camembert. “Besides, we need to learn about each other’s miraculous and the best way to do that is practice. Not my fault you’re lazy.”

He grumbled as he chewed his precious cheese. “Normally takes a lot longer to master the miraculous… thought I’d have at least a few more years before this swap business.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She took a seat against the old stones, looking up at the bells.

It helped that she and Adrien had always had a strong connection, one that had only improved after revealing their identities. After Hawkmoth however, they didn’t have much to test themselves against. There had been challenges, but nothing that came quite as close as their old archenemy. Their improvement had slowed, and for a while they were worried they wouldn’t be able to achieve their goal.

“You’re taking to this pretty well, Bakery Girl.” Plagg grinned, revealing his tiny fangs. “Now I’m curious what having you as my kitten from the start would have been like. Imagine the trouble we could have gotten into without those rules that kept Adrien down.”

She shook her head with a smile. “I don’t think I qualify as ‘bakery girl’ any more, Plagg. We moved out, remember?” In fact, she was pretty sure that little step had been what finally pushed them into this stage of their training - they had hardly been in their new place for a week when the kwami suggested this little exercise.

“Maybe. But the point remains.”

“Given all the stolen phones and complex plots I came up with back then, maybe it was better for Paris if I didn’t have you egging me on from the shadows.”

Plagg groaned. “But that would have been hilarious. We could have ruled the world!”

“And here I thought Adrien was the dramatic one…” She mumbled under her breath.

“What was that, Pigtails?” He looked at her suspiciously.

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Well… anyway… I suppose it’s for the best I got stuck with the kid. He needed someone pushing him to do things. Tikki would’ve just had him hunker down and go with the flow.” He scoffed. “Not me. Kid needed some havoc in his life.”

“Yeah… I suppose he did. He never had a lot of people in his corner, able to tell him that he wasn’t being treated right.” She watched him for a few moments before adding. “I’m glad he had you, Plagg. I really appreciate you taking care of him for all that time.”

He ate in silence. She stood up and moved to the entryway. Her view of the city wasn’t quite as amazing as it had been when she was behind the mask, but it was still breathtaking. She hoped that she would never get tired of seeing Paris from above.

“It wasn’t just me, you know.” She turned back to see Plagg floating in place, looking off into the distance. He’d stopped eating - it must be important. “He always had you. It was kinda annoying at the time, how much he’d gush about the love he felt.” He made a gagging sound, then looked over to her and grinned. “I’m glad you two idiots figured it out. I’m sure how much more of it I could take, but at least he’s happier now. Even if it was… rough there, after the dearly departed Gabe went all final form on us.”

“Final form?”

“Ugh, the kid has always watched too much anime. There’s only so much I can ignore.”

Laughing, she walked back over. “Ready to finish up paw-trol?”

“If it will make sure you don’t make any more puns in my presence, then sure. Let’s go.”

“Claws out!”

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

Adrien cut off the tape from another box and peered inside. Despite having been labeled ‘dishes’ - in his own handwriting, no less - it instead contained fabrics. He sighed and looked around the room, barren except for a couch and boxes. It had been over a month since they’d moved in here and it felt like they hadn’t even made a dent in the number of boxes they had left to unpack. Just as he started to prowl around for unopened containers to look through, a tiny voice made him turn around.

“Wait, Adrien! The dishes are in here, the fabrics are just being used for padding.”

He walked back over to where Tikki was pointing. Sure enough, there were the pots and pans that papa had bought them before leaving. He brought the wok out and twirled it in his hands. One of the many benefits to working in the same kitchen as mama Cheng was that he could finally learn how to cook - especially his girlfriend’s favorites. As he pulled out the ingredients for tonight’s late dinner, Tikki watched from her perch on his shoulder.

“Is this the spicy stir fry?” At his nod, she giggled. “I’m sure Marinette will appreciate coming home to that smell.”

“It’s the least I can do, for everything she’s done for me.” Where would he be without her? Probably still alone in that big, empty mansion.

“The relationship hasn’t been exactly one sided, you know.” It sounded vaguely like a chastisement. “I know how much she appreciates you, and I’m sure you know that too.”

“Well, yeah, I know, but-”

“I remember how doting and protective you were over her when she was still recovering. Even when the process started to… slow down.”

Despite their best hopes, Marinette had stayed weakened by her brush with death for well over a year. Sure, she had left the wheelchair after a few months, but that was more because of her own stubbornness rather than any sudden breakthroughs. Through it all, he stayed by her side and helped her work through her frustration as the healing dragged on.

“Well, she needed me. How could I turn my back on her then?”

She twirled in the air until she was in front of him as he began chopping vegetables. “It’s only because of the powerful bond that you shared that she survived in the first place. Others… weren’t so fortunate.”

The chopping stopped for a moment, a silent prayer for the departed, before continuing.

“She was able to lean on you then, and she leans on you today.”

“I’m more than happy to help her out.” He smiled gently as he turned the oven on. “But really, these days it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’ve been in her life before you, remember.” She waggled her paw in front of him. “She’s not as overworked with you around - and not just because you’re an extra pair of hands,” she added when he opened his mouth to protest. “You’ve got a lot of experience with tight schedules, and during her busiest hours you keep her sane.” She sighed and murmured, “I know things are tumultuous right now. But as long as you two love each other, you’ll be able to make it through.”

He sniffled and held out a hand for the kwami to land on, placing a light kiss on the side of her large head. “Thanks, Tikki. I needed to hear that.”

With everything that was happening - her applications to university, her design commissions, his freelance modeling, the moving - Marinette and him hadn’t gotten to spend much time together. But Tikki was right. This stress was temporary while they got settled into their new lives, but they had something much longer lasting than that.

[walkurekumo]

There was a slam at the door of the dorms of Ragna, where the pop idols Walkure were living.

“Kaname!!” A young man’s voice shouts. His silver hair glew a little in the soft light of the dorm in his arms he carried one of the idols, Mikumo.

“Satoshi-kun?!” Freya calls back,”Kaname’s not here at the moment.... but what’s-“ her voice dropped when she saw her comrade laying in the man’s arms. Her breathing was rough.

“What happened?” She asked.

“We were out shopping. Then she suddenly collapsed.” Satisfying explained. As Freya looked over Mikumo, checking her pulse, her breathing, and last of all she checked her skin warmth.

“She must be running a fever, hurry. Let’s get her to her room.” Freya ushers them into the dorms and up the stairs.

Mikumo lay on her bed, she was still panting, her face was flushed and she was sweating pretty badly.

“Was it something she ate?” Freya asked trying to get all of the details.

“We ate at Chuck’s restaurant. She was eating things that she didn’t normally eat, she kept saying she was feeling it today.” Satoshi explained.

“Sea spiders, jellyfish ramen, also some sparkling water, that’s it. But she collapsed almost three hours after we ate. Up until then she was completely fine.”

“Mmm Sato... where..” a soft voice rang behind them. The woman on the bed breathlessly spoke through her panting.

“Miku, you collapsed, I brought you back to the dorms.” The silver haired man knelt next to her. Taking her hand,”Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling so good?” He asked.

Maroon eyes looked away for a moment to Freya,”Can him and I talk in private Freya?”

The young girl nods then leaves the room.

———————————————————————————

About 30 minutes pass by.

Freya was waiting patiently outside of the room. Soon Satoshi came staggering out.

“Satoshi-kun?” Freya asked worried for him. But he kept walking until he hit the sofa downstairs. Plopping himself down, his eyes looked like they were filled with panic.

Freya’s rune perked up. Now she was really worried. Opening the door to Mikumo’s room she asked,”Mikumo-san daisobu desuka?”

“Freya.. hai.. come here. I want to tell you something..” Mikumo spoke quietly. She was now sitting up in bed. Her long violet hair draped around her like a violet waterfall.

The orangette paced over to her slowly,”A-Are you okay? I saw Satoshi was looking a little scared.”

“Oh..” the older woman sighed breathlessly. “It’s a bit scary for both of us.”

“What is?” The girl sat by the other. Taking one of her hands.

Freya could feel Mikumo’s body tremble,”Something that will take me out of the team for a while, I won’t be able to sing with you four on stage.”

“Why. Are you sick?”

“No no.. Freya.. I’m having a baby...” maroon eyes looked down at her lap.

Worry turned to shock. Then shock became wonder. “Really?!” Freya nearly shouted as her eyes filled with glee.

“Hai~ I even wore my sweater to hide my little baby bump today, here..” Mikumo takes the hand she was holding and pressed it onto her middle, for sure was a small bump there.

“Wow..” The rune a top Freya’s head was pulsating with joy. “Don’t be scared Mikumo-san, you’ve got all of us here~” small arms wrap around the purplette’s body as Freya gives her a big hug,”Congratulations!”

Mikumo started to tear up a little, not of fear nor sadness, but of joy. “Arigatou..”

———————————————————

Around 5pm the rest of Walkure had returned from their shopping. Kaname and Makina were emptying their bags as Reina played with the mercats.

Mikumo walks down to the kitchen where her team leader and mechanic was.

“Good Evening..” she said calmly. Kaname looked up from what she was doing.

“Oh. Mikumo. We didn’t know you were home. Thought you were still out with Satoshi-kun?” She asked.

Mikumo sighs,”We came back a bit early. I was feeling a bit under the weather.”

“You? Sick?That’s new.” Makina piped up. “At least you look like you’re feeling better Kumo-Kumo.” She have her a toothy smile as she put some canned food in the pantry.

“Yeah.. sure.” She looked down and played with a bottle of sesame oil.

“There’s actually something else as well. Hey Reina,” Mikumo called to the smallest of their team out in the living room.

“Hai?” Reina called back as she stood and skipped over to the kitchen.

“Mikumo?”

“Kumo-Kumo?” Both in the kitchen asked.

Mikumo just lifted the tank she was wearing and turned to the side. To show off her baby bump.

“I-is that what I t-think it is?!” Makina asked with a stutter. Which was met with Mikumo’s nod. “Kumo-Kumo!” She squeals and bounces up and down.

Kaname was frozen. “We have a concert tonight Mikumo... are you going to sit it out?” She walks over to her companion and touched her shoulder.

“Not this one. I can perform again until I’m showing too much. Please Kaname?” Mikumo begged. Pulling her shirt back down. “I slept most of the day today anyway. I’m alert.”

Makina and Reina held hands in their cutest signature style. “Music is Love,” Reina started.

Makina giggles,”Music is Hope~” she connected her fingers to Reina’s making the Walkure symbol.

“Music is Life~” Kaname held a pair of fingers out to Mikumo who smiles softly nodding then she spoke.

“Music is Mystery.” As she connected two of her fingers to also make the symbol of Walkure.

They then heard a loud crash and ran to where it happened. In the living room. Freya had ran to the kitchen to join them. But had ended up on the floor after tripping over Mirage’s Mercat.

“Music is..... Energy!!” She groans out with a smile. Making the rest of them smile and laugh a little.

Mikumo knelt down and helped Freya off the floor.

“So she tell you?!” She asks a bit loudly. Kaname shushed her.

“Yes she did~ How do you know?” Kaname wrapped her arm around Mikumo’s waist.

“Oh. I was home when she and Satoshi-kun came back. He’s up stairs sleeping his shock away~ *wink*” she winks at Mikumo.

“Oh. Definitely can see him trying to calm down after such wonderful news.” Reina said quietly. “Papa..” she whispers.

A slight blush came over Mikumo’s face,”Uhhh Reina~” she waved bashfully at the smaller one.

“We should get ready for our concert.” Kaname spoke out.

“Hai!” The rest accepted.

————————————————————

A two hour concert happened around 9:30 pm to almost Midnight.

——————————————————

Around the second to last song Mikumo was getting a bit out of breath. She leaned forward trying to catch her breath.

“Can everyone cheer on Mikumo-san! Our newly wed of the group!” Kaname shouts into the mic catching Mikumo’s attention.

Loud cheering filled the seats around the stage.

Mikumo’s crimson eyes looked at her leader in confusion.

“You see she’s a bit out of practice!” Makina jokes around.

“Make sure to cheer extra loud for her!! Keep her going!” Freya cheered as well.

Reina checked her personal screen,”Vitals are fine!” She looks at Mikumo who’s in a state of surprise. ‘I was married 5 years ago. Tho..’

Kaname turned off her mic for a sec to talk to Mikumo,”We know, But they don’t~ it’s easier to tell people that you’re newly wedded instead of saying your gonna have a baby. Right?~”

The woman to her right nods and subconsciously reached for her middle. But played it off as her catching her breath with a bow.

“Our last song of the night will be Hametsu no Junjo!” Mikumo called out as their costumes changed. “Then our encore will be Ikenai Borderline! So keep up!”

—————————————————

After the concert was autograph signing. All of the ladies were sitting at their respective places signing T-shirt’s and figurines.

Satoshi had shown up and was sitting with Mikumo. Hiding his face with some sunglasses and a hoodie. “How’d it go?” He asked taking her free hand under the table.

“It went well, was a little out of breath towards the end but I’m fine now~” she reassured him. Squeezing his hand a little.

“Brought you something,” He holds out a little bracelet, engraved with their initials and on the back it made a hologram of the gender of child they would have, it was showing both as its base setting.

“Sato-kun~ I love it~” she leans onto him like a sideways hug.

A fan noticed the couple and ran up to Mikumo’s booth.

“Mikumo-san! Is this your new husband?!” She asks.

Crimson eyes closed as she nods. Making the young girl cheer happily,”Congratulations!!” The fan cheers. This made the singer blush her other hand set in her lap, on her belly. She gave a small smile. “Arigato~”

————————/—————/—————/——

Around 1:30 am the group finally returned back to their home.

All the girls yawn and stretch. Another concert done.

Mikumo sat gently onto the plush couch in the living room. Letting out a long sigh,”You.. are tiring me out already..” she spoke quietly directing her voice to her middle.

“Kumo-Kumo, can we see your belly again?” Makina asked from behind the couch with Reina.

“T-There’s not much to see yet Makina..” she protests with a blush.

“Pwease~~” Reina whines cutely.

“......*sigh* oh alright...” Mikumo sighed reluctantly and patted the cushions beside her,”Sit.”

The two girls sat on either side of her waiting in anticipation. Mikumo tentatively pulled up her shirt showing her belly, and the little mound that was forming there.

“See..” she said wistfully. Then jumped when both girls set their cold hands on her. “Eek! Your hands are cold!” She tries to pull away but she’s surrounded. Kaname was watching from overhead.

“Mikumo the Mama, has a nice ring to it~” she teased.

“Kaname!” Mikumo whines. Which was met with a giggle from the three.

“What do you think you’ll have?” Reina asks with a whisper like tone.

“I’m fine with either, although I want a little girl.” Mikumo smiles.

“Miku~ I’m going to be off tour for a few months so I’ll be here with you~” Satoshi smiles as he leans over the three on the couch.

“But then I have to go back on it for a few months later. I should be back before you have our baby. But. I have a friend who will stay with you too. Because we all know you’ll have to take maternity leave from Walkure.” He leans in and gives her a kiss.

“Who’s your friend?” Kaname asks.

“Oh. She’s from the Isle of Frontier, she is great friends with Sheryl.” He replies.

TBC.

[bamby0304]

Every Dean has his Day

Summary: After Dean drinks the potion that makes him act like a dog again, you’re stuck babysitting when it goes wrong. Days stuck with the older Winchester lead to truths being told. But is it just the dog in him talking?

Pairing: dog!Dean x Reader

A/N: This is for @squirrel-moose-winchester’s Supernatural Crack Attack Challenge!! I picked the prompt Curses/Spells/Potions, but after talking it out with Squirrel, she’s letting me use each of the three things in the prompt in three different fics. For this one, I’m using potions!! Thank you @crispychrissy for beta’ing :):)

Warnings: My poor attempt at crack (honestly, I tried). Scumbag in a roadhouse. Explicit language. Period talk. Fluff. A bit of angst. Smut (yep… smut). Dirty talk. Fingering. Unprotected sex.

Bamby

When the three of you came across a hunt that looked as if animals were involved, Sam jumped at the chance to try the dog potion again. Dean had glared at his brother the whole time he was mixing the ingredients, and insisted there was, ‘no fucking way’ he was drinking it this time. Unfortunately for him… things don’t always go the way you want them to.

Sam was still recovering from a cold, which had him suffering from some decent headaches. He’d offered to take the potion, but you weren’t sure it would do him much good. So, instead, you were prepared to take it. Dean shut that down in an instant. The second the potion was finished he snatched it from his brother and downed it in one go.

That’s how you ended up here, stuck in one of Rufus’ old cabins, dog-sitting Dean Winchester.

After you figured out that the case had involved a witch, it was a little too late. She was on the three of you the second you got into town, and the instant Dean drank the potion she worked her own magic before getting the hell out of Dodge.

Now Sam was off, hunting with Donna, trying to track the witch down. You, though, were stuck with Dean, who was stuck in the weird dog state the potion had put him in. For three days now he’d been sniffing your butt and humping your leg non-stop.

Lying in bed, trying to get to sleep, you were jolted awake as Dean bounded onto the bed, plopping himself next to you. Groaning, you turned your head to see him kneeling over you, a dopey grin on his face.

Is it just me… or is he getting worse?

“Breakfast?” he asked eagerly, smiling like a damned fool.

“Sleep,” you countered, rolling back over to try and do just that.

But Dean wasn’t having it. He nudged at your shoulder with his hand, over and over. He whined a little too, shifting around the bed to the other side so he could meet your face again. When you cracked an eye open you saw him looking at you with puppy eyes that rivalled his brother’s.

Damn…

“Fine!” Sighing, you threw the blankets off you and got out of bed. Dean happily followed, keeping barely a step between the two of you as you both headed into the kitchen.

The cabin was pretty much one big room. There was a living area with an old fold-out couch that creaked if you moved too much. The bathroom was off to the side and very small- smaller than a lot of the motel bathrooms you’d suffered through. A fireplace a few steps away from the dining area, and a small kitchen with the essentials- including food that you’d brought here once it was decided Sam would head off to hunt down the witch with Donna.

You were grateful that Dean was at least walking like a person, but there was a bounce in his step that wasn’t usually there. Dean seemed a lot happier being like this.

Fixing up the two of you some bacon and eggs, you dropped the two plates onto the dining table, once again thanking whoever was listening when Dean took a seat across from you. Again, you thanked them when he picked the food up with his hands before stuffing his face. You weren’t sure you’d be able to handle him eating like a dog...

The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. For the most part, you stuck to the cabin, much like you had since Sam went off. TV distracted Dean like it usually did. When Sam called to check up on the two of you Dean eagerly spoke to his brother, telling him all the ‘fun’ things you’d been doing- dog-Dean was a lot like a child. When the cabin got too stuffy you headed out to a nearby park.

Following a path from the cabin and through the woods, you came across a small park that was part of a national woodlands. The place was empty, thanks to it being a school day and in the middle of a chilled Winter afternoon. That meant you and Dean could run around and play fetch without any weird, accusing or assuming glances from others.

Time flew, and after four hours of playing and running around you called it a night. You sent Dean back to the cabin while you started the short trek to a nearby roadhouse to grab some burgers for dinner. He was exhausted from all the exploring and running he’d done, while you were exhausted just from watching him.

One of the great things about being with Sam and Dean meant that if you went to diners, roadhouses, bars or cafes the sleazy men that frequented those places usually left you alone. Unfortunately, though, with Sam gone and Dean acting oddly, you were left to defend yourself as you headed into the roadhouse.

Less than thirty seconds after you passed the threshold, you could feel the linger gazes of a few men, two of which turned to each other to whisper. You had absolutely no doubt they were talking about you.

Great.

Sighing, you moved to the counter, resting your forearms on it as you leaned forward and waited for someone to serve you. They didn’t get there fast enough.

“Hey sweetheart,” a man passed the middle-age stage slid into the seat next to you.

You cringed at his use of the word ‘sweetheart’. Dean and only Dean could call you that. But you couldn’t make a scene, not if you wanted food, so you decided to ignore him as you continued to wait.

“Gettin’ some dinner, sweetheart?” he asked, and you literally cringed this time, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “I got something you can-”

Maybe it was because you’d been stuck babysitting Dean for the past few days? Maybe it was because you hadn’t had to deal with scum like him in a while? Either way, you weren’t having a bar of it.

Spinning on your heels, you turned to give him a tight smile. “Dude, if I wanted whatever it is you’re offering I would find someone who isn’t going to make me want to throw up. You stink like three day old stale beer breath. You haven’t showered in about a week. Your beard has got leftover crumbs that look like they’re close to getting mouldy. And your clothes scream hobo. Why would I want to touch you? Please, explain this to me.”

He gawked at you, mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to respond but didn’t have the brain capacity to manage it.

“Exactly. So, please kindly fuck off.” You turned back to the counter then, smiling sweetly at the server who was watching with wide eyes. “Two burgers and fries to go, thanks.”

When you returned to the cabin, Dean was all over you. Sniffing and whining, following you so closely he was actually pressed against you as you headed to the dining table. You tried to shoo him away, once, twice, three times, but no matter how many time you scolded him he was right there, still up against your back.

Sighing, you turned to him. “What has gotten into you?”

He leaned in, sniffing at your shoulder. “I can smell a guy on you.”

You tensed. First of all, it was probably bad that Dean could actually smell someone on you. Secondly, you were really hoping you wouldn’t have to tell him about the sleazebag at the roadhouse. But that can of worms was well and truly open now…

“It’s fine,” you assured him turning back to the table to pull the food out and set it down. “Just some sleazebag who thought he was the shit. Turns out he’s just shit. Full stop. So, can we eat? ‘Cause if we keep talking about him then I’m gonna hurl.”

Relenting, Dean did as you asked and took a seat at the table. He watched you as the two of you ate, though. There was a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite read, but you didn’t pay it much mind. All you wanted was some food in your belly, a hot shower, and then a good night’s sleep.

Curled under the blankets of the fold out bed, you were fast asleep when you were woken by the feel of the blankets being lifted, the bed dipping and the creaking sound that followed.

Turning, you watched Dean as he settled himself down next to you. In that moment he looked more like his usual self than he had since taking the dog potion. He just laid there, with his head on the pillow as he watched you with those green eyes that made your heart swell.

In the past, the two of you had enjoyed each other’s company but never on an intimate level. You’d joked about it, hinted at it, contemplated it, but neither of you had actually done anything about it. Over the last few days you’d think you’d be seeing him in a different light, but he was just too happy for you not to fall more hopelessly in love with him.

“Did that guy upset you?” he asked out of nowhere.

You frowned, confused. “What guy?”

“The sleazebag.”

“Oh, right.” You shrugged. “Not really. He was gross, but I can handle myself.”

“I know.” He smiled at you sweetly, reaching out to brush your hair out of your face. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”

Everything froze. You blinked, waiting for his words and their meaning to dawn on him. But he either didn’t get it or didn’t care. He just kept watching you with that unreadable expression.

“Is this the dog in you talking?”

It was his turn to shrug. “Probably.” When your eyes fell, trying to hide the disappointment in them, he went on, “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

Lifting your gaze, you met his.

“I think about you a lot. These last few days have been perfect, ‘cause I’ve just been able to hang out with you. Going out to have fun at the park. Watching TV with you in bed. You’ve cooked me bacon and eggs every morning. It’s been great.”

“Dean,” you sighed. “That’s the kind of stuff dogs get excited over. Spending time with their owner. Going for walks. Cuddles. Food. Everything you just said… it’s what dogs like.”

“Yeah, but I like it too,” he noted.

“That’s ‘cause you are a dog right now.” You grinned at him.

As much as you wanted him to have feelings for you, it was pretty clear he didn’t feel the way you did. That was okay, though. You didn’t expect him to like you. He didn’t have to. It wouldn’t change things. You were happy just being friends.

“Come on.” You gave his chest a pat. “Go to sleep. Tomorrow I’ll make you some more bacon and eggs, ‘kay?”

He perked up at the promise of more food, before he nuzzled into the pillow. You were fine with him sleeping in the bed with you, knowing it was just because he was a dog and wanted you close by. You didn’t mind. It didn’t mean anything.

Sam better get back soon...

As you stood by the stove, cooking the last of the bacon you had, Dean walked up behind you. It wasn’t odd for him to look over your shoulder to watch you cook. His lips would pout with curiosity, his chin would rest on your shoulder, and he’d just watch.

But there was something different about today. After his admission last night you felt a little jumpier. It seemed he was feeling a little odd as well, because unlike the other days you’d cooked for him, this time his hands came to rest on your hips.

You jumped as soon as he touched you, bumping into the stove which quickly had you pushing back. As you did though, you found your backside bumping into something else…

Tense, you turned your head to meet his gaze. “What is that?”

Instead of answering you, he turned his head into your neck and breathed in. “You smell incredible this morning.”

“New shampoo?” you offered as a lame explanation.

“No,” he groaned, the sound coming deep from his chest. “You smell like me.” His grip on your his tightened as he stepped closer, pressing himself against you more.

This time there was no mistaking it. What you’d felt before and what you were feeling in that moment was definitely not his gun.

Part of you knew you should back away. Dean wasn’t himself, and when you thought about it he could be getting affected by the pheromones from your upcoming period. But then there was the other part of you- that could have been tied to said hormones- that didn’t want to pull away. A part that had wanted Dean to want you for far too long. A part that refused to let this opportunity pass.

This is wrong. This is so very, very, very wrong…

You ignored the voice in your head, choosing to enjoy the moment and regret it later. Eyes fluttering shut, you let him rock into you as he breathed in the smell of you.

Rutting against you, Dean’s grip tightened. “Want you.”

“The food will burn,” you noted on a breath.

That made him pause and pull back for a moment. You whined, much like he’d been for the past few days, wanting him pressed against you once more. But as he reached around you and turned the stove off, you understood completely.

With no more excuses being offered, Dean grabbed your arm and tugged you away from the kitchen area of the room. You let him lead you over to the bed, and let out a surprised yelp when he shoved you in front of him and pushed on your back. Your hands flew out to rest on the bed to keep you from falling as you felt him behind you.

“Dean!” you gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Want you,” he repeated simply.

But as he started to tug on the hem of your pants you found some remaining sanity and quickly spun around to face him. “I get that, but you can’t just push me around and pull my pants down.”

“Why not?” He took a step closer to you as he sniffed the air. “You liked it. I can smell it.”

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you tried to come up with an explanation or excuse to shrug his words off, but you couldn’t come up with anything. You couldn’t come up with a good lie. He wasn’t wrong. You had liked it. Dean getting a little rough and demanding had played on your dormant hormones, and now you were practically drenched between your thighs.

That didn’t change anything, though.

“I get you’ve got dog brain right now, and it’s tell you to bend me over and fuck me senseless. I’m not saying that doesn’t sound nice,” you started, making him grin and step closer as his hands found your hips once more, “but why don’t you treat me like a person first?”

He paused, as if that hadn’t occurred to him. Then you watched as confusion and shock crossed his face. “I… I should kiss you, right?”

You chuckled, nodding at him. “It would be a good start.”

Lips tugging up into one of those dopey smiles he’d been wearing the last few days, he leaned in to press a kiss to your own smile. It was like a cliche movie moment, with bells, fireworks, and fluttering butterflies. His lips pressed to yours and everything felt right.

The chaste and sweet moment didn’t last long, though. It seemed kissing you affected Dean more than just smelling you had. His grip on your hips tightened as he stepped closer to grind himself against the front of you. But it wasn’t enough.

“Now?” he breathed against your lips, nipping at them. “Please?”

You tensed. “Are you… are you begging?”

“Would it help?” he asked, still rutting against you as he moved to nip and nuzzle at your neck.

“It would be creepy,” you noted.

But he just shrugged, countering your point with one of his own, “I’m about to bend you over and fuck you because this dog potion has got me all kinds of hard and horny. This was creepy days ago.”

Well, he’s not wrong...

“Please, let me turn you around, bend you over, and fuck you.” He bit at your neck then, tugging at the skin with a light snarl, and that’s all it took.

Spinning on your heels, you let him push you down as he pressed himself against your behind. You closed your eyes and groaned a little, fisting the sheets of the fold out couch as he quickly worked at pulling your sleeping shorts down. The two of you were still in your pajamas, which made it easier to undress than if you were in your usual layers and jeans. Dean was in sweats… well he was. Now they were around his ankles.

Thankfully, he didn’t just push right into you. No matter how turned on you were, you still needed some prep work, and despite the dog potion working its magic on him Dean seemed to remember you were still very human. So, instead of doing what you knew he wanted to, he ran his fingers along your folds.

Jumping at the feel of his calloused fingers against your soft lips, you moaned. He groaned right along with you as he dipped two of his fingers inside, pushing them in slowly until they were buried to the hilt. There he stayed, with one hand pressed on your back and the other pressed against you.

Neither of you spoke. You were too focused on drowning in the feel of him inside you, while Dean was too far gone into his new animal instinct to form words. But you didn’t need to speak in order to understand each other.

Each stroke of his fingers was an eager promise, vibrating with the desire to have you properly. When you leaned back into him you were encouraging more. The groans, grunts, moans and whimpers that spilled around you drove your needs higher until Dean couldn’t take it anymore.

Once he was sure he’d worked you open enough, he removed his fingers, lined himself up and pushed into you.

You fell forward, forearms now pressed to the bed as he started to thrust. It wasn’t the usual thrusting you were used to. Dean was more eager, more desperate, more animal, and it was complete and entirely hot.

Grasping at the sheets, you held on for dear life. He didn’t just thrust or fuck, he bucked. He held your hips and went wild as he pushed in and pulled out of you frantically. He was, quite literally, humping you. He made noises that resembled the ones you heard on the National Geographic. There was very little man in him as he thrust bruisingly into you.

When he leaned in closer and hunched over you, he reached a new angle inside that you’d never felt before, and that’s what pushed you over the edge. With a broken scream and drawn out whine, you came. Picking up the pace, losing some of the rhythm as he got a little more frantic, Dean howled as he followed you into his own orgasm.

Out of breath and completely satisfied, the two of you fell onto the bed with him still inside you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close and nuzzle your neck, Dean quickly fell asleep, and it didn’t take long before you drifted off as well.

Dog Dean was eager and always ready for more. Not just more food, or more play time, but more of you. After you’d woken up you’d wallowed in guilt for all of two seconds before Dean had started kissing your cheek all over. That’s all it took to make you smile and push the guilt away for now.

For the rest of the day you did what you’d been doing since Sam had left, but now Dean would pause every now and then to kiss you all over much like a dog would lick. You’d laugh and push him away, grinning widely as he’d happily bound off to do whatever you were doing at the time.

That night you slept together, in both the literal and metaphorical sense. It was just as animal as before, and left the two of you exhausted. It was really no wonder you slept in the next day.

“What the hell?”

Bolting up in bed, clutching the sheets to your body, you found yourself staring wide eyes at Sam as he stood in the doorway of the cabin, looking from you to his brother. Dean roused from his sleep with a groan, blinking at you for a moment before he spotted his brother.

“Dude!” he quickly covered you with more blankets, not caring that he was also naked and on full display.

Sam’s hand shot up to cover his eyes as he turned away with a grimace. “Really, guys? You thought now would be a good time to work out your unresolved sexual tension and unrequited love issues?” he groaned.

The brief moment where Dean had been a little more human than dog was over. He looked to you and blinked, not having a response. You rolled your eyes and threw the blankets off you, reaching for one of Dean’s flannels.

“Get dressed, Dean,” you ordered, and without missing a beat he did exactly that. “It’s not like this was planned, Sam,” you hissed, pulling on your sweats before starting on the buttons of the flannel. “And don’t you dare judge. You’ve done some nasty shit, too.” You glared.

He just huffed in response.

“So, you’re back. I assume you found the witch and killed her?”

“Yep.”

“And did you find a way to reverse Dean’s… issues?” you asked as you glanced at the older Winchester who had stopped getting dressed to scratch his ear, pants half way up his legs. “Clothes, Dean,” you reminded him.

As Dean continued to dress Sam nodded, still covering his eyes and facing away from you. “Yeah, I got a recipe for a potion from Rowena. After we killed the witch Donna helped me look through her stuff to find some tricky ingredients. I can make it here.”

“Good.” You quickly pulled your hair out of the flannel top with a sigh. “We’re dressed now.”

There was a pause before Sam turned to peek through his cracked fingers. Seeing that you were both in fact dressed, Sam lowered his hand and gave you a pointed look. But he didn’t say anything. He knew better.

Dean was sitting at the table, watching you with that dopey smile. You couldn’t help but blush and smile back, averting your eyes every now and then. Sam was at the kitchen counter, finishing up the potion, ignoring you and his brother.

You knew there was a chance that at the end of this Dean would regret everything, and could end your friendship. But you weren’t going to let that ruin the moment while it was still around. You were going to enjoy this for as long as you could. You weren’t going to waste any time you could have with Dean.

Unfortunately, that time was now up.

Sam placed a cup of mud-like sludge in front of his brother. “Drink up.”

When Dean continued to smile at you, you gestured to the cup. “Go on.”

Smile slipping into a look of curiosity, he looked down at the cup. If Dean was really himself he would have cringed at the thought of having to drink something so gross. But Dean was a dog, and dogs didn’t care what they had to eat. So the sludge was gone in a matter of seconds.

If he doesn’t hate me we are so not kissing until he brushes his teeth.

“It might take a while before it kicks in,” Sam noted. “Could make him drowsy, too. You wanna stay here, or head back to the Bunker?”

“You brought the truck back, right?” you asked and he nodded. When Dean started to blink slowly you shrugged. “Take him home. I’ll clean up here and head back later.”

Not asking any questions or making any comments, Sam did what you said. He helped his brother up and lead him outside, grabbing his bag on the way. You stood and moved to watch, catching Dean’s eye as his brother guided him into the car. Standing in the doorway of the cabin, you didn’t look away once as Sam drove off, Dean’s puppy dog eyes glued on you until the car disappeared around the corner.

When you got back to the Bunker it was dark. You parked the truck out the front and started to head inside, carrying the stuff Dean had left behind and your own things. When you started down the winding stairs of the Bunker you came to a pause as you spotted Dean walking into the war room, a beer in hand. During the whole time he’d been a dog he hadn’t had a single sip of beer.

“Heard you come in,” he noted, stopping by the table.

Reaching the floor, you moved towards the table, stopping across from him. “Like… you heard me because of some residue dog senses?”

“No,” he chuckled. “You always slam the door.”

“Right.” You nodded, dumping the things on the table. Rummaging through it all, you grabbed your stuff before stepping back. “Well… I think I’m gonna head off to bed. Long drive and all.” You gave him a tight smile before turning to leave.

“Y/N.”

You froze.

You didn’t want to freeze. You wanted to run. Every part of you wanted to run and scream so you wouldn’t have to hear what he was about to say, because you knew it was going to be bed. You knew he regretted it all. You knew he was going to apologise. You knew it, and you really didn’t want to hear it.

But there you were, frozen on the spot, stupidly waiting for him to rip your heart out.

“Look at me.”

“No.” Shaking your head, you refused to do that. “You can say what you have to say to my back.”

Sighing, he put his beer on the table before walking around until he was standing in front of you. Even then, though, you kept your gaze on the ground. But it was good enough.

“You think I’m going to tell you I regret it. You think I hate what we did. You think it disgusts me.”

“It should.”

He shook his head, taking a step closer to you. “It doesn’t.”

“How can you say that?” You looked up to met his gaze then. “Dean, you were a dog.”

“I was still a human. I was still me.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “By the second day you were sniffing my butt while I slept.”

Tensing, eyes wide, he stuttered for a second before managing, “You heard that?”

“I felt it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” Rolling your eyes again, you shook your head. “Dean, you were playing fetch and asking for belly rubs. You fucked me like a dog would.” There, it was out in the open. “You bent me over and fucked me, quite literally, doggie style. How can you tell me you were human when everything you did felt very dog-like?”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “I was a dog. I acted like a dog. I thought like a dog. I even talked like a dog sometimes. But I didn’t feel like a dog. I felt like me. And everything I told you was true.”

“It was the dog talking,” you argued.

“Of course it was the dog talking,” he agreed. “I’ve been hiding the truth from you for years. You think it’s a coincidence that I tell you everything after I’ve messed around with a potion and turned myself into some weird dog-like human? I’ve never had the guts to tell you the truth before, and I probably never would have. The dog just took away the fear. So, will you please stop arguing with me and let me kiss you already? Please.”

Your lips tugged into a grin. “Are you begging?”

“Oh shut up.” Grabbing your face he pulled you to him, crashing his lips to yours.

Bamby

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy Birthday, sarratorrens

April 13-Sam & Bucky after CW AU: "What did you say?" Platonic soulmates for @sarratorrens

Written by @iamartemisday

When it was all over, from the fighting to the politics to the alien invasions, they finally sat down and talked about it.

“You’re an asshole.” Sam had no interest in dancing around the issue. Good. Neither did Bucky.

“I’m not the one who wouldn’t move his seat.” Bucky eyed Sam’s shoulder, where those fateful words from that fateful car trip had been inked by the universe in silver writing.

Sam adjusted his shirt, even though the words were already covered. “I’m not the one who rips steering wheels out of cars.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“I loved that car.”

“You can buy another one.”

“Would you say that to a mother who lost a child?”

Bucky massaged his forehead. This was worse than trying to stop Steve from jumping out of planes without a parachute. “You know what? Fine. Have it your way.”

He stalked out of the room, not caring in the slightest if Sam watched him go. He definitely didn’t look back.

He didn’t want some dumb platonic soulmate anyway.

**

Two days later, his brand new box of Rice Krispies went missing.

It was Sam. He had no evidence, no witnesses, and no clear motive, but it was absolutely Sam.

When Steve didn’t believe him because Sam was such a stand-up guy who’d never steal, Bucky took matters into his own hands. He picked the lock to Sam’s apartment and walked in to find him at the kitchen table, the offending box of cereal right there in plain view as he enjoyed a crackling bowl.

“That’s mine,” Bucky said, making use of his ‘soldat’ voice as Natasha liked to call it.

Unlike a trainee or Peter Parker, Sam was entirely unmoved. “We’re soulmates. Soulmates share.”

“We’re also human beings. Human beings ask before they take things. Otherwise, their spines get broken.”

“Nobody’s stopping you from having somel.” Sam gestured with his head at the empty seat pulled out as if in wait of him. “Go ahead. I dare you.”

Bucky snatched up his cereal box and knocked the milk carton to the floor for good measure. White liquid spilled everywhere. It would take Sam all morning to clean it up.

For the moment, Bucky was satisfied.

**

He woke up from a nap with a photo stuck to his metal arm. Attached with a kitchen magnet. It was one of those New York skyline magnets they sold at souvenir shops in Times Square. Bucky hated those things.

The photo was of Sam’s hand flipping him off. How childish.

Bucky dropped his pants and Sam’s phone was soon graced with the image of his perfect ass. That’ll show him.

**

Sam’s redwings malfunctioned in a battle against a terrorist cell holding an investment bank hostage. Instead of attacking the bad guys, they staged a mutiny. While Sam batted them away, Bucky dispatched all seven terrorists with ruthless efficiency. Every single one of them was an amateur. They couldn’t even aim right. Why the Avengers had been called when a rookie with a donut in his hand could’ve handled it was beyond him.

The headlines the next day were awesome.

WHITE WOLF DEFEATS TERRORISTS. RESCUES TEAMMATE.

“You still haven’t thanked me for saving your ass,” Bucky grinned at Sam as he dropped another copy of the paper onto his lap (there were seven hundred more stashed away in his closet to wallpaper Sam’s bedroom with later).

Sam had the eyes of a hungry leopard. “What did you do to my babies?”

Bucky gasped. “Are you accusing me of sabotaging your equipment to embarrass you on a mission? I can’t believe you think so little of me.”

“I can’t believe suck my dick,” Sam snapped, crumpling up the paper and throwing it at Bucky’s head. To his credit, he made the shot.

“No can do. After that horrible offense, I don’t even want to be in the same room as you. Goodbye, dear platonic soulmate of mine.”

Bucky departed to a cacophony of bad language.

**

“Hey there! Any superheroes around? I need some new photos for my album.”

It was a curly haired young woman with glasses and a hat. Bucky had never seen her before, so he figured she was one of those new ‘consultants’ Steve was telling him about. They were getting two: a physicist and an administrative assistant. This girl didn’t look like either of those things, but as this was a private lounge no visitors should have access to, he wouldn’t call security just yet.

“Hi,” he said, waving her over. “I’m Bucky, I-”

“I know you!” She skipped over and shook his hand. That was the idea anyway. If she hadn’t grabbed the metal one he’d worry about his shoulder dislocating. “Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, White Wolf. So many names, dude. You need to consolidate. I’m Darcy Lewis, intern and assistant extraordinaire. You may have heard of me.”

“Vaguely,” Bucky took his arm back as quickly and politely as he could. “I knew you were coming, but-”

“Yeah, this is way more exciting than when I went to New Mexico to be Jane’s assistant.” She flopped down on the couch like this was her own apartment. “Not that New Mexico can’t be fun if you’re in a place like Albuquerque, but we were in a real dust bowl. Actually, a dust bowl would’ve been good. This was like a dust bowl within a dust bowl. I remember this one time I had to charge my phone, and-”

Thirty minutes later

“I say to the guy, ‘I don’t care about your grandmother’s bowel movements, just pay me five bucks so I can go. And then he gave me the money and I bought a new charger, and I could finally charge my phone.” Darcy took the first breath Bucky had seen her take. “And then there was the time I had to get Jane a new battery for her laptop.”

“You know what? I just remembered I have to be somewhere right now.” Bucky shot off the couch like it was on fire. “Somewhere important… but you know, that was a really great story you were telling. I have this buddy, Sam Wilson, and I bet he’d love to hear it.”

“You mean the Falcon?” Darcy’s eyes lit up. “He’s my favorite! No offense.”

“None taken.” He entered Sam’s number into her phone, along with his apartment number and other relevant information.

“I’ll just pop on over and say hi.” She raced out the door, only to poke her head back in seconds later. “Almost forgot. Say cheese!”

Bucky did not say cheese and he didn’t smile. Darcy took the picture anyway.

“Nice,” she said, tapping a few buttons. “Friend me on Facebook. I’ll tag you.”

When she was gone and beautiful silence was restored, Bucky fell on the couch in a dead faint.

‘Have a good time, Sammy,’ he thought evilly.

Bucky went back to his apartment and ate dinner while waiting for the obligatory threatening text message he was sure to receive at any moment. By noon the next day, it still hadn’t come.

A full twenty-four hours after Bucky unleashed the Chatty Cathy horror that was Darcy upon an unsuspecting Sam, his phone finally went off. Sam had sent him a photo. It was of him with Darcy in his lap, kissing his cheek. There was writing on her neck he hadn’t seen before. It looked like the singular ‘no’ on his bicep.

‘Thanks for finding her for me.’

Bucky crushed the phone.

**

‘Just great,’ he thought later on after failing to fix his ruined phone. ‘Now I need to buy a new one and Sam is one up on me. I can’t believe that guy. Here I was trying to make peace with him, and all he wants to do is be a two-year-old kicking sand in my face. Un-fucking-real. Of all the people I have to be destined for. I don’t even want to think about what my romantic soulmate will be like.’

He stepped outside and ran straight into a petite figure, stopping his train of thought. The woman, soft where he was solid, bounced off him like a ping pong ball. She was no bigger than Steve before the serum, and some long-buried protective instincts rose to the surface as he bent over her.

“Jesus, I am so sorry. Let me help you.”

“I’m fine,” she said, pushing the hair out of her eyes. “Should’ve looked where I was going. I always do that.”

She got up using his arm as leverage. Bucky would’ve helped properly, but her words were burning in his brain and on his back. He stared at her like an idiot, like he hadn’t been lectured by his father every day on what to do when this day came. Something about being a gentleman and inviting her to dinner which he had to pay for. Maybe that last part was different with the modern day’s more egalitarian attitude towards dating, but at the very least, he shouldn’t be staring so much. Or at all.

“Sorry,” she said nervously, hands stuffed in her pockets. “I’m Jane Foster, I think you know my friend, Darcy.”

Bucky nodded. “Uh huh…”

Jane bit her lip. “She told me I should come and talk to you. I’m not sure why... actually, did I just say your-”

“Soulmate words,” he said with her. “Yeah, I… I think you did.”

He took Jane’s hand and squeezed it. Not too tight, just enough to feel her warmth. She squeezed right back and suddenly, the day was a little brighter.

**

It became easy to avoid Sam. He just had to spend all his free time with Jane. Getting to know her, learning about her research, taking her on long walks through the park, kissing her in the moonlight, making her cry out his name in ecstasy under the sheets.

He barely thought of Sam for a whole month. If they worked together, they didn’t speak unless it was mission critical. Nobody knew about their secret bond as of yet. Steve chalked the animosity up to stress and never tried playing mediator. For Christmas, Tony gifted them a ‘get-along’ shirt, which was promptly stolen by Jane and used as a sweat rag while she performed maintenance on her weather machines.

It was, shockingly enough, she who breached the topic two days after he and Sam took down a suicide bomber and only got the bomb dismantled with four seconds to go.

“Look, it’s not that simple,” Bucky said, pressing an ice pack to his head. He wasn’t in pain anymore, but with the cold came numbness. He needed some of that right now. “I’ve been trained in a lot of things, but diffusing bombs is not one of them. We got it in the end.”

“Yeah, barely,” Jane said, turning a wrench way harder than she needed to. “If you’d been one second late, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. Because you’d be dead. You understand that, right?”

Bucky did realize it, and it really sucked. He never wanted to be one of those guys who complained about ‘nagging girlfriends’, especially when Jane had every reason to be mad at him. He just… really didn’t want to have this conversation.

“What do you want me to do?”

Jane dropped the wrench and took a seat on the table. She was so light, it barely squeaked under her weight.

“Darcy told me you and Sam were arguing the whole time,” she puts a hand on his face, making him meet her gaze. “That’s why you were having problems.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He’s your partner. And your soulmate.”

“You’re my soulmate.”

“Look, I know romantic and platonic soulmates aren’t the same thing, but they’re not so different either.” Jane wrapped her arms around him, moving from the table to his lap. “Most people don’t even have one soulmate, let alone two. People like us… we’re basically born with an emotional support system already laid out for us, and that’s not something to run away from.”

Bucky furrowed his brow. “Us? You have a platonic mark, too?”

The non-sequitur bugged her. He could tell without her saying anything. She pulled back her hair to show him the words behind her ear. It was such a small space, no wonder he’d never noticed before.

“Man this place is hot as balls. How do you even stand it?” he read, a grin forming. “Darcy, huh?”

Jane giggled. “The first few weeks were the worst. We couldn’t agree on anything. She drove me so nuts I had to sleep on the roof by the firepit.”

That didn’t sound right. Bucky had seen them together a bunch of times (without Sam of course) and those girls couldn’t be closer if they were sisters.

She seemed to read his mind. “We needed time to get where we are now, and I think you can have the same thing with Sam if you try.”

“He won’t try,” Bucky said. “He’s hated me from the start. Not that I blame him. We didn’t meet under the best circumstances.”

“None of that was your fault, Bucky. Sam knows that.”

“Does he?”

“Yes.” Jane touched her forehead to his. “I know I can’t force you to talk to him, but at least think about it. Because deep down, I think you guys do care about each other, or this wouldn’t be hurting you so much.”

“It’s not,” he said, even though lying to her felt worse than a punch to the chest.

“Just promise me you’ll be civil with him. You know, so you don’t get blown up.”

“I promise,” Bucky mumbled. Then he buried his face in the crook of her neck where he could forget all his troubles.

**

Sam was in the lounge, which sucked because it should’ve been empty this time of day.

Bucky was only there because he had no bad guys to fight and Jane wouldn’t be back from her meeting for another half hour. With nothing else to do, he’d hoped to get a nap in and maybe watch some TV. Instead, he found the bane of his existence resting in a recliner (the one Bucky usually sat in of course) reading a book and pretending to be dead to the world.

Which he wasn’t. Bucky knew that because his hands tensed and his breathing sped up as Bucky made a spot for himself on the couch.

The TV was in the corner and the remote within reach. He should’ve turned it on, but he didn’t. He grabbed a magazine off the coffee table. Nobody knew why Tony kept them when nobody ever read them. When asked, he’d only say it was for aesthetic purposes. Whatever that meant.

“So…” he licked his lips. “Nice weather we’re having.”

“Yeah,” said Sam.

“Pretty warm for March. Must be that climate change thing I keep hearing about.”

“Right.”

Bucky rolled his shoulders. Sam scratched his nose. They continued their reading as Bucky found himself on the same sentence six times. Every few seconds, his eyes flicked to Sam, searching for the slightest shift in expression. He soon gave up on the illusion of reading and set the magazine down.

He was ready to just leave, but if he didn’t say his peace, Jane would never let him hear the end of it. Best to get it over with and then go back to their mutual denial of each other’s existence.

Bucky took a breath-

“I’m sorry, okay?”

-and released it. Hard. His chest hurt now. “What did you say?”

Sam groaned like repeating himself was worse than the labors of Hercules. “You heard me. I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a jerk and being unfair, so I’m sorry. I promise not to do it again.”

Bucky appraised him, his pursed lips and tight posture, like he was reciting lines for a play. “Did Darcy put you up to this?”

“You bet she did.” Sam returned to his book. He appeared to be on the wrong page. “Jane put you up to it?”

“She wants us to make up and get along because that’s what soulmates do. Did you know she and Darcy are platonic?”

“Yeah, I saw the mark.”

Bucky sighed and rubbed his face. “They’re not going to let it go until we make up for real.”

“Eh, they’ll get bored.”

“No we won’t!” Darcy and Jane stuck their heads out from behind the kitchen counter. Jane’s cursed as she realized they were caught and forced Darcy down. “Uh… I mean, pay no attention to the women next to the fridge. Carry on as you were”

Sam rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back a grin. Neither could Bucky.

“I guess we could try,” he said. “Make a fresh start or some shit.”

“We could also do nothing,” said Sam.

“You could also sleep on that couch for a month,” Darcy snapped. “You, too, Bucky.”

“That’s not up to you, Lewis.”

“Bucky,” Jane said in her rarely used but deadly ‘I’m pissed’ voice. “Couch.”

Sam and Bucky looked at each other. They both knew how this was going to end, no point in delaying it. Bucky curled his fingers, then relaxed them. He held his hand out to Sam. “Hi, I’m Bucky. I’m your platonic soulmate. Nice to meet you.”

Sam looked at his hand like it was covered in mud, then took it anyway. “Sam Wilson. Nice to meet you, too.”

They shook and, somewhere in the back of Bucky’s mind where he never ventured, he was actually kind of glad for the semi-truce. Maybe one day, they really could have a nice friendship the way fate intended. Darcy and Jane certainly thought so. They came out of hiding, Darcy already with her phone out.

“This is gonna be my new Facebook header.” She motioned at Sam. “Come on, Sammy, let’s do this.”

He stood reluctantly and let Bucky put an arm around him.

“Sammy, huh?”

“Shut the hell up.”

They smiled for the camera. The photo proudly adorned Darcy’s page for the next few months. And of course, they’d given each other bunny ears.

[katwriting]

Fic: Sound of your Heart

celebrity AU // chapter 1

When Magnus Bane returns to his favorite coffee shop after weeks of being out of town, he doesn't expect that place to be more packed than usual. He also doesn't expect sharing a table with a stranger and actually having a good time. And most importantly, he doesn't expect that stranger to be surprisingly funny, interesting and kind. But if Magnus learned one thing over the years, it's that life doesn't exactly ask for your opinion.

Word count: 2.7k | Read on AO3 (or continue reading below)

“Thank you, New York City! You guys were amazing, goodnight!”

Turning his back to the roaring crowd, Magnus walked off the stage, pulling out his earpiece as he walked down the steps. Someone handed him a bottle of water, which he gulped down in a matter of seconds before wiping a towel over his sweat drenched face.

Another show done. The first of two at Madison Square Garden, both sold out. And the second-to-last one before his well-deserved break. As Magnus walked through the backstage hallways back to his wardrobe, past posters that of upcoming concerts at this venue and several ones that announced his own two New York shows, he shook his head and couldn’t suppress a smile. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe how fast things had progressed ever since that fateful day about two years ago. How his career had basically sky-rocketed from working as a barista at a café and singing at weddings or company holiday parties to selling out Madison Square Garden two nights in a row.

The two reasons for that unreal twist in his life were already waiting in his dressing room when he got back. Magnus barely had the chance to drop his towel into the hamper in the corner when he was already enveloped in a warm, familiar hug and a kiss was dropped on his cheek, despite his sweaty, slightly disheveled state.

“Magnus Bane, rock star. Look at you,” Catarina said when she let go of him, still holding him at arm’s length and beaming. “Your mother would be so proud.”

Magnus smiled at her and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. Instead, he looked at the second person that had been waiting in the dressing room, who was just getting up from the chair he’d made himself comfortable in. “And what’s your verdict, Ragnor?”

“The show was sold out, the crowd adored you as usual and I’m pretty sure the press will as well,” Ragnor replied, his British accent as heavy as ever. He shrugged and slipped his phone into his back pocket. “I suppose you did alright.”

Magnus grinned and then only too happily accepted a hug from Ragnor as well. As disinterested the reply may have sounded, it was hard to ignore the pride in Ragnor's eyes as he looked at Magnus, trying his best to remain as unfazed as possible.

Ragnor Fell and Catarina Loss were a married couple of almost ten years and had been ruling the New York music business for just as long. Their record company, Downworld Records, had the most popular artists of the city signed; every time Magnus attempted to count the Grammies, Oscars and Golden Globes those artists had won in total, he ended up with a headache.

Magnus would have never dreamed of getting to know them, let alone signing for their label. But ever since he had, things in his life had taken a U-Turn in the best possible way. With the help of those two heavyweights in the music business he had soon turned from flamboyant, outgoing barista-turned-singer to record-breaking superstar and taken the music world by storm. Magnus couldn't possibly more grateful for their help and support over the years.  

With a sigh, Magnus dropped on the couch that Ragnor had just stood up from, grabbing another bottle of water. “So, now that we have the business talk covered, let’s get to the essential stuff,” he said, then took another sip of water. “How’s Chairman?”

Apart from being the most amazing managers that Magnus could have ever dreamed of, Ragnor and Catarina also came with another pretty useful feature: Whenever Magnus went abroad, they took care of his one and only child, a tabby cat called Chairman Meow. When Magnus went on tour or had promo appointments left and right, he left Chairman with the two of them, knowing that he would get his darling kitty back happy and well (and likely a little more overweight than usual).

When he’d taken Chairman to his usual check-up after his world tour last year, the vet hat told him to feed Chairman less, which Magnus had just internally scoffed at. No pet of his would ever be overweight, Chairman was just a little…small for his weight, but fabulously so.

“Oh, he’s great,” Catarina retorted. “Last week when I wasn’t looking, he ate half of the tuna that I wanted to make for dinner.” “- and threw up all over our living room carpet half an hour later,” Ragnor threw in.

Magnus snorted. “Sounds like my son.”

Ragnor rolled his eyes, but smirked. “Damn right he is. That cat is just as extra as you are.”

Magnus just shrugged, getting up again and heading towards the showers. “What can I say, I raised him well.”

+++

Two days later, after sleeping for 12 hours straight and spending an hour in the bathroom to make sure that he didn’t totally like a zombie, Magnus set foot in his favorite place in the world besides the balcony in Catarina’s apartment: Pandemonium, the café he’d worked at before his music career had taken off. The tiny café was wedged in between a Chinese restaurant and a thrift store and there were maybe twenty tables but still, Magnus loved going there. He’d spent many hours there – working, writing songs, trying to make decisions, or simply taking a break from real life. Besides, the place sold the best coffee in Brooklyn, if not even entire New York. And since it was so tiny and kind of an insider tip, he didn’t risk running into fans, reporters or other people who could recognize him there.

Magnus hadn’t been to Pandemonium for a few months now as he had been on tour, but as soon as he stepped through the narrow door and into the cozy atmosphere, he felt himself relax. The off-white brick walls, the many different chairs and couches, none like the other, the scent of freshly roasted coffee beans and the music playing in the background never failed to make him feel like home.

What did, however, very much disturb that feeling of coming home was his first look around the room. More importantly, the realization that the entire place was packed with people. There were young parents trying their best to keep their kids from spilling their coffee, business people typing away on their laptops, their drinks all but forgotten – and then what seemed like a hoard of college kids, taking up the rest of the room.  

Magnus sighed. As much as he loved this place for its cozy atmosphere, the limited number of tables and seats did pose as a problem whenever he came here on a particularly busy day.

Nevertheless, he headed for the counter and ordered his coffee to go, already halfway expecting he would have to drink it on the go somewhere. Or alternatively in his own living room under the skeptical gaze that the Chairman seemed to reserve for whenever Magnus went out and didn’t come back with food or at least a treat for his cat.

Thankfully, at least the line at the counter wasn’t all that long so it didn’t take much time for the baristas to make his drink. Paper cup in hand, Magnus turned away from the cash desk, stuffed his wallet back into the inside pocket of his jacket and then scanned the room one more time, hoping against hope that the few minutes he had spent waiting for his coffee would have been enough for an empty table to appear somewhere – or at least one of the several college kids to realize that the Wi-Fi in this place was crappy for a reason and leave. And indeed, just as he scanned the room one last time, a couple who had been sitting at a tiny table in the far corner across the room rose from their seats, took their empty cups and turned to leave.

Bingo.

With quick, resolute steps Magnus navigated his way through the maze of furniture, laptop chargers, messenger bags and brief cases on the floor towards the now empty table and managed to snatch a seat, effectively cutting off two women’s way who had been walking towards the same table. With an (entirely fake) apologetic smile he sat down on one of the chairs and placed his cup on the table, then grabbed the magazine he had been carrying with him and tried to blend out the noise around him.

It worked surprisingly well for a while, despite the buzzing noise around him. He was halfway through a quite interesting piece about an up and coming local fashion designer, when a voice dragged his attention away and back to the real world.

“Excuse me?”

Suppressing a defeated sigh, Magnus put his magazine aside and looked up, already expecting to be met with the expectant and excited face of one of someone who had recognized him and was about to ask for a photo or an autograph. Instead, he looked into hazel eyes, hidden behind thinly framed glasses. They belonged to a guy that seemed to be in his twenties, maybe a few years younger than Magnus. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt underneath a well-worn leather jacket and had a dark brown messenger back slung across his shoulder.

“Can I sit here?” the stranger said, looking around as if he was checking if an empty seat had appeared somewhere, but then shrugged.

"Uh…sure,” Magnus replied, a little taken aback. He uncrossed his legs so the stranger would have some space and took his magazine off the table, making room for his new seat neighbor’s coffee.

The stranger took a seat and placed his mug on the tiny table between them. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t normally do this. But this was literally the only free seat so…"

He shrugged, as if it the entire issue explained itself, and put his messenger bag down on the floor.

“It’s no problem. Actually, I haven't been here in a while. When did this place become so crowded? This used to be an insider tip," Magnus pondered and let his gaze roam through the room once more. Now that the guy sitting across from him had taken up the last empty seat, there was literally no space left.

Alec followed his gaze, then shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. I come here every few weeks when I'm in the neighborhood, and I didn't notice anything changing. I guess at some point some of those hipster college kids must have discovered the place and made it their most recent Instagram-worthy coffee place or something."

Magnus huffed out a laugh. From the looks of it, those hipster college kids must have told a bunch of their friends too. “Must have been something like that. Last time I was here, there was maybe one seat taken, not just one empty."

“I know, right?", Alec huffed. "I mean, I’m sure they’re all great kids, but the point of me coming to this particular place was so I can enjoy my lunch break in peace. Not in the company of seventeen thousand undergrads,” the stranger grumbled, packing his laptop back into his bag and pulling out a notebook instead.

This time, Magnus genuinely laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”  He picked up his cup and jokingly raised it in his neighbor's direction. He took a sip and then placed the cup on the table again. “I’m Magnus, by the way,” he added, holding out his hand a little awkwardly as the stranger was currently focused on a folder he had taken out of his bag.  

Clearly startled, the guy looked up from his notes. “Huh? Oh…yeah, hi. I’m Alec,” he said, quickly taking Magnus’ hand and shaking it, almost knocking over his coffee in the process.

Magnus smirked. “Nice to meet you, Alec.”

He was just about to ask Alec what job he was working that his lunch break had led him to a tiny coffee place in Brooklyn, when a woman who had been sitting a few tables over got up and left. Alec picked up on that, watched her leave and then turned back towards Magnus, frowning.

"I should probably…you know," Alec said, gesturing towards the now unoccupied table across the room.

“Oh, don’t bother. I could use some company.”

A surprised smirk ran over Alec's features. "Okay."

Over the course of the next half hour or so, Magnus learned that breaking with his habits from time to time wasn't that bad of an idea. Alec turned out to be quite decent company. He was more on the introverted side, a lot more reserved than Magnus, that much Magnus could tell. But when he did say something, it was either funny, smart beyond his ears or sarcastic to a T. From crowded coffee shops and the general unpleasantness of undergrad students their conversation soon moved on to more personal topics. Magnus learned that Alec worked in his parents’ publishing company and was being groomed to take over as CEO one day, which he described as rewarding but also quite challenging from time to time. Magnus, in return, told him some of the stories he always told people when they asked him to tell them a little about himself – how he’d always been fascinated by music, how Queen had been his favorite band when he was a kid and Freddie Mercury still was one of his biggest idols, whether it came to music or life in general.  

Lucky for Magnus, their conversation always shifted to a different topic before they could get to what he did for a living. That was, until Alec straightforward asked.

“You said you like music a lot. Do you work in music as well?”

Internally, Magnus let out a bunch of curses, most of which Catarina would have murdered him for in cold blood if he ever used them in public. Externally, he resolved to something a little less scandal-inducing. Smirking to cover up the shock on his face, he took a sip from his coffee which was barely more than lukewarm at that point but perfectly served as a measure to buy him some time. Time that he used to think and come up with a perfectly fine explanation.

“I do, actually,” he said, “I work for a record label here in New York. It's called Downworld Records."

Technically, that wasn’t even a lie – he did have a contract with Cat and Ragnor's label after all. Besides, not telling strangers everything about himself right away was not lying, right? It was just being responsible, thank you very much. However, considering Alec’s reaction, Magnus might as well have told him the whole truth straight away.

Alec nodded, but other than that seemed pretty unfazed by Magnus’ reply. “Never heard of it. But I don’t really listen to a lot of music and at work we focus on books, so I guess that’s no surprise.”

Magnus blinked. “You don’t?”

Alec shook his head and grabbed his own mug. “Not really. I mean, I do like instrumental pieces or some classic rock if the mood strikes. But other than that, I guess I prefer books to records.”

Magnus smirked and relaxed back into his seat. “Instrumental stuff and classic rock, huh? Well aren’t you something else, Alec.”

Their conversation then shifted to less potentially cover-blowing topics for Magnus. They kept on talking for another while, until Magnus excused himself to the bathroom. When he returned, ready to hear more about that hilarious story of Alec's siblings, he startled, then did a double take just to be sure he hadn't walked to the wrong table. But he hadn't – Alec was no longer there.  Alec's jacket and bag were gone and their table abandoned, save for a slip of paper tucked under the half-finished cappuccino Magnus had gotten only a few minutes ago. When Magnus picked up the little note, he found just a few words scribbled onto it in a barely readable handwriting.

Emergency call, had to run. Was good chatting with you, I really enjoyed having some company. A.

Magnus turned the sheet around, feeling a little disappointed when he found it empty. He sighed. “Me too, Alec. What a shame that you didn’t leave me your number.”

Smirking, he put the sheet into his bag, then picked up his stuff and headed towards the exit. The little break at the café had been undoubtedly fun, but now he had a cat to get home to.

[paepsi]

EXO as dumb shit I’ve done, EXPLAINED:

Suho: 

See this picture here? This is me before the moving team. I was so fucking proud of myself for strapping the base of the chair to my roof (it wouldn’t fit through the trunk of me smol hatchback). I thought it was funny that it kinda looked like a kip-pah and asked my friend to take a pic for me here (see my lil peace sign next to my face? im v happy of my jew car). Little did I know that after driving to my new apartment with the whole moving team from IKEA unloading shit from the truck, I would be stuck in the fucking car. I didn't have a knife or scissors to cut the strings and I didn't want to make my dumb assery to be noticed; so instead of asking for help... I climbed out the front window and almost fell flat on my ass. When I stood up and turned around, the whole moving team was just standing there looking at me. The assholes knew I was stuck and let me suffer.

Kris & Kai:

so these moments both happened in the same night. I went to a house warming party for my friend and I didn't know what to bring as a gift, so I just bought two big bags of Hawaiian bread. Now throughout the night, the more I drink, the more impulsive I get. 

I started putting the bread on people's shoulders, slowly piling them up until they noticed. Everyone was pretty wasted so there was no surprise when I had a stack of 4 1/2 buns (I ate half) on my friends shoulder. Anyways- fast forward into the night, I'm craving sweets, so I walk into my friends kitchen and find a jar of cookies. At the time I thought it was a brilliant idea to just put the Hawaiian bread in there so the kitchen looked full; a fair exchange, if you will. At least that's what I thought... I found pictures from the party and it turns out I just ended up putting in a half eaten bun sjzjsj

Fast forward into the morning of the next day, I’m hungover and I wake up wearing mismatching socks (one is mine, the other I have no idea). 

I needed to get home because I had work later that day, so I hop into my car and start driving home. The whole time there was this annoying beeping sound that I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. I had such a bad headache that I pulled over to see what the fuck was wrong. I got out of my car, checked the wheels, checked the under the hood, then hopped back inside. I was so frustrated that I banged my head on the steering wheel and just rested my eyes for a sec. When I opened them to look straight ahead at my dashboard, the brake light was glowing bright red. I cried.

Chanyeol: 

One summer evening, I was hanging with my sister and her friends around a campfire. We were roasting marshmallows, drinking, having a good time etc. Eventually later into the night we started getting bored and one of my sister’s friends suggested playing hot potato with the coals from the fire. We’re all game like FUCK YEAH LETS DO THIS. Then we start tossing it around and realize that it’s way too fucking hot, so instead of tossing it’s just everyone spiking the coal to the next person. FYI, I have terrible hand eye coordination and I wasn’t wearing my glasses that night. Every single time the coal was spiked my way it would miss my hand and fly straight into my hair. The next day I woke up, looked in the mirror, skipped breakfast and headed straight to the salon. still looked cute or w/e so I ain’t mad

Kyungsoo: 

Ahhhh, this one is actually pretty personal and happened not too long ago! My mom finally left this dirt bag she’d been married to for the past 16 years. When I say dirt bag, I mean a manipulative, abusive piece of shit. My mom was so tired during her session with the mediator for when they were deciding who was getting what; she took 30-45 minutes to talk alone with them and he took 3 fucking hours putting on this sick sob story. The mediator was so done with him too that they just let him do whatever he wanted. That meant he had the “right” to pick and choose what belonged to him in our apartment. The fucker took EVERYTHING. He took the furniture, the bedroom sets, all the electronics, the spices- HE DOESN’T EVEN COOK. However, a week before then, I bought a huge bottle of vanilla. I needed it to make edible cookie dough, which I was doing everyday out of stress. The day before he finally moved out, I came home from work to see everything wrapped/packed up. I started to get worked up and went to the kitchen to make my cookie dough. When I opened the cabinet to get my vanilla and saw it completely empty, I lost it. I literally screamed and started tearing up all the boxes, finding more shit that belonged to me and stopped when I finally found my vanilla. I went back to the kitchen, happily made my cookie dough and kicked back on "his” couch with my dirty shoes on. Later that night, the asshole came home and screamed at me. I shut him up tho when I told him I’d suffocate him with a pillow in his sleep if he dared to touch me or any of my things ever again. He didn’t stay in the apartment that night lol

Baekhyun:

I think this one might be my favorite story. It all started when a package from my mom in the mail never showed up even though the UPS tracking said it had already arrived on my doorstep. I assumed in meant the package was stolen and got really bummed about it since it had some essential items in there. My roommates felt bad and decided to cheer me up by throwing a house party (woohoo! cue the alcohol!). It started at like 3pm and went on all the way until 4 am the next day. Somewhere within that time frame while it was still light outside, slightly tipsy, I found a ladder on the side of the house and had a strong urge to follow it up to the top; and who am I to deny every desire that comes across my pea sized brain. I was half-way up to the roof when one of my roommates spotted me (let’s call him Big Ned; there were two guys named Ned in our house so we just called them Big Ned and Little Ned; Big Ned is like 6′3″ and Little Ned is like 5′4″). Big Ned started yelling at me to get down and I told him I couldn’t because it was my destiny to reach the top. He decided that there was no use arguing with me and ended up following me to the roof (even though he’s afraid of heights; bless his BFG heart). He’s kinda hard to miss, so when he started making his way up to the roof with me, it grabbed a lot of attention. Some joined us. Meanwhile, I decided to walk around and look into my neighbors yards. I saw a mess of papers in one of the alleys between our houses and joked “lmao that’d be funny if that was my package”. We laughed for a bit then looked a little closer until we realized oh fuck that’s my package. My body moved on it’s own and just kinda scrambled across the roof trying to figure out the fastest and least painful way to get off the roof. Thank the stars for Big Ben holding me back by the collar of my shirt and preventing me from jumping down onto the neighbors fence. Little Ben ended up running over and jumping the fence to get it for me. We still don’t know how it got there.

Tao:

In middle school, I had to go on this field trip to some ranch out in the countryside of Texas. I remember we were all huddled into a barn with a big stage in the back. The teachers grabbed a mic and got on stage to talk about who knows what. Idk I wasn’t paying attention, talking to my friend, in my own world. When the mics go off, everyone starts chattering. At that moment in time, I was extremely preoccupied with my shoelaces when I got a tap on my shoulder from my homeroom teacher. I think she was mad at me for not listening and told me to head up to the stage along with a few other students making their way over. Being in front of others makes me nervous, but when the teachers put a bib around my neck before I got on stage, I was too confused to think of anything else. When another teacher started handing out baby bottles filled with Gatorade to each student on stage, I had to stop them to ask what was going on. And what do ya know, I’m in a baby bottle drinking contest. Before I had time to ask any more questions, they were already counting down to start. Now listen, I’m not the type of person to back down from a challenge so ofc you know I’m gonna suck the soul out of this bich. The reason I can say this confidently is because up until I was 11 years old, I always drank out of baby bottles when I got home from school. I just really liked the feeling?? For me, nothing beat chilling on the couch, watching Teen Titans and drinking fresh cold orange juice from a baby bottle on a hot summer day. Idk but I guess it came in handy since I finished a 24oz bottle under 35 seconds. The rest of the kids weren’t even close to half way through. There’s a picture of me at the back of my school year book holding up the baby bottle like a trophy.

Sehun:

Remember my sisters friends from the campfire? Well I spent a good long summer hanging with her friend group and ended up getting kinda close to this one of the guys (let’s call him Jake). I have a really broad range of music taste and I guess he digged that so we talked a lot about music together. By the end of the summer, Jake threw a party at his house and invited me over. Ngl I wanted some dick so ofc I’m gonna go all out and break out my hot leather Madonna outfit. I head out with my sis and the house is packed by the time we get there. The whole time we’re pretty much just hanging out, drinking and dancing the night away. Some time passed 1 am (I think), I’m sorta outside making out with Jake on the side of his house. It’s getting really hot and heavy. When we finally broke apart for air, he told me he though he was in love with me. I’m screaming internally, panicking and I don’t know what to do. I could tell from way before that he really liked me, but I didn’t think it was to that extent. It doesn’t help exactly that I don’t feel the same way for him. Don’t get me wrong! He was really hot and sweet, but I just couldn’t see myself with him. So what did I tell him? Nothing. My dumb ass was in such a panic that all I could think of was that I needed to run. I did. I ran back into the house, out the front porch, spotted his skateboard and took off. I didn’t really know where I was or where I was going but somehow I ended up at the train station and eventually found my way back home.

Xiumin:

On my 21st birthday, my roommates took me out to a really nice, 5 star restaurant in the city we lived. They're buying me all the drinks I want cause heck I'm finally legal! Now, I think y'all can see a pattern of what happens when I drink. So when Big Ned got a glass of scotch and I had just finished off my last sip of wine, I wanted some too. I asked him to share, using "it's my birthday" to get my way. Ever the gentleman, Big Ben pours half his glass into my wine glass and keeps his raised for a cheers. The whole group joins in and with a shout of Mozeltov, I slam the wine glass down on the table and toss it back. It wasn't until I finished the last drop and tried to set my glass back on the table that I realized I snapped the stem in half. No one spoke, except for Little Ned, softly, "did you... did that really just happen?" Yeah. Yeah it did. Thankfully the restaurant agreed to keep the broken glass off the bill as long as I left the restaurant immediately.

Chen:

On a Saturday night, I met up with a good friend of mine that I hadn’t seen in months. We bought some snacks and drinks then drove to a marina near my apartment (new place in California). The whole night we spent catching up and throwing rocks in the water. I was still a little tipsy when it was time to go home and my friend ended up driving me back. On the way back, I opened a bag and snacked on some pizza flavored goldfish. I was about a fourth of the way through the bag when I decided I didn’t like it anymore and started tossing them out the window. We pull up to a stop light and my friend is trying to make me stop by rolling up the window, but I stick my leg out before he could close it. Next he tries to compromise and said if I wasn’t going to eat the goldfish, I should just put the bag down and remove my leg from the window. My tipsy ass told him no, I was handing out free food. I turned to look at the car next to me, asked (yelled) if they wanted any goldfish and held out the bag to them. I guess the dude thought it was funny and was just like “yeah sure why not, lifes too short to not eat goldfish from a stranger at a stoplight” alksdjflskdj 

Lay:

When I was about 6 years old, I lived out in the suburbs of Fulshear, Texas. The community is really tiny and everyone knew each other. One time, I was playing hide and seek with my siblings, and decided to hide under my moms bed. While I was waiting for my brother to come find me, I fell asleep. A couple hours later I wake up and it’s dark out. The house is empty. I’m calling out to see if anyone is home, checking all the rooms. I thought maybe everyone decided to tag me “it” since I passed out. After a while of not finding anyone, the phone rings and I pick up. It’s my mom sounding out of breath calling to see if anyone found me and took me back to my house. Turns out I had actually been knocked out for 6 hours. Not being able to find me during hide and seek for 2 hrs, my siblings went to get my mom who also started looking for me. After another hour and no luck, she called our neighbors across the street to see if I went over to play with their kids. Ofc they said no and said they would call some other people in the neighborhood to find out if they'd seen me. A few hours later, the whole neighborhood was out looking for me. Meanwhile I'm at home chilling on the couch watching Teletubbies and eating goldfish (the original babey).

Luhan:

My dad took me and my siblings to the beach almost every summer in elementary school. We would always stay at this Holiday Inn right across the street from the sands. At night, we would go “hunting” for crabs with a flashlight and a fishnet. But on some nights when my dad was too tired to go out, my siblings and I would hang in the kids room at the hotel. We were fooling around and just being kids. Then we found a big case filled with tubes of paint. I was excited to do some finger painting but before I could reach for a tube, my brother stopped me to say he had an idea. He dared us lay down our sheets of paper and paint them by jumping on the tubes. Being the youngest of four, I thought this was a brilliant idea and immediately got to work. Set my paper down and lined up the colors I wanted to use. I jumped.... Only a spec of paint made it onto the paper... The rest beautifully decorated the off-white walls of the kids room. We all just froze because oh my stars we’re gonna be in so much trouble. Turning to each other, we made a very strong pinky promise to not tell a soul what happened. The next day when we returned to the kids room, the case was gone, faded splotches of green and purple remained on the walls, and a big paper taped above reading “NO PAINTING ALLOWED”.

Fun fact: my eldest sister used to write about my adventures for her creative essay homework’s in middle school.