#we were supposed to go to my brothers birthday party on sunday and i had to text him in tears

[oneiro-nautical]

...

[seresinhangmanjake]

Signed Away

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader Series

Summary: You find out about the contractual marriage your parents arranged with Jake’s when you were a baby. You’re plently angered by it, but Jake doesn’t seem too bothered. He might even be happy. 

Notes/Warnings: cursing, fluff, eventual smut, angst, contract marriage, loss of rights, feelings of being trapped, poor parent/child relationships. 

This will be a bunch of fairly short chapters/drabbles, but considering there are generous time skips, I felt like it made the most sense. This is also just kind of a tester chapter. Idk that anyone is going to like it. As always, comments can make my bad days worth getting through, so i’ll never not appreciate them. Reblogs and likes make me smile uncontrollably, but no pressure :)

Masterlist

Part 1 - Words: 1340

For too long, it was never spoken aloud. Not by your fathers. Not by your mothers. Not by aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, cousins. And yet it was known. Expected. Silently proposed, accepted, and settled on long before you understood the role requiring your fulfillment upon your twenty-first birthday, long before you knew what a birthday even was. And it was non-negotiable. You would be Jake Seresin’s wife. You just didn’t know it. Because while everyone else had been well aware, they neglected to inform you.

 -----

“You know we’re supposed to be dating, don’t you?”

That was the first thing a freshly graduated, 23-year-old Jake Seresin told you within his first week back on Texas soil. He sipped his beer as he stared out at the nearly one-hundred guests thoroughly filling out the space of his parents’ backyard for his Homecoming party.

You watched the summer heat condensation trail onto his hand from the glass bottle as he took another sip. “Excuse me?”

He smiled and waved at the partiers that did the same for him, some dressed like Sunday church-goers—clearly his parent’s guests—others laying around the pool in bikini’s so small they looked like spring breakers looking for anonymous, uncomplicated sex—his guests for sure. Abs and tits dripped with droplets of chlorinated water, drawing wet lines down their bodies that forced an onlooker’s eye to follow.

Despite it all, Jake kept his attention on you. “Nineteen, right?”

With a pinched brow, you gave him a quick questioning glance.

“I mean I know we haven’t spent a lot of personal time together in the last decade, but I’m pretty sure your birthday is the same,” he said with a devastating smirk that briefly sputtered your heartbeat.

No wonder he knew all of these tight-bodied, made-up women. They probably threw themselves at him constantly if that was the look he was shooting their way. Their glaring at you suddenly made a mountain of sense. Jealousy at its finest, solely from his proximity to another girl.

“You’re nineteen.”

Oh…right. “So?” you replied, failing at casually taking a long drink of the soda in your own bottle. You coughed when a bit of the liquid travelled down the wrong pipe, sparking the snarky chuckles from the near-naked women thirty feet away.

“So,” Jake stretched the syllable, impressively without managing to sound like an immature child. “You’re a grown woman, I’ve finally finished college, it’s only a matter of time before our sides start to ache from our mothers’ nudging elbows.”

Your scowl at his guests dropped once his words sunk it, and you paused, forgetting about anyone else entirely. You let out an unattractive snort that would’ve bloomed a dark shade of pink across your cheeks and chest had not the lunacy of what he was saying overpowered any embarrassment. “You sound like a crazy person,” you said. “No wonder we stopped being friends when we were little.”

“Yea, I’m sure the four-year age difference in school had nothing to do with it.”

What thirteen-year-old wants a nine-year-old little girl following him around? Somehow it was still fresh. You’d cried for what felt like days after he’d yelled that and promptly walked off with his friends, leaving you alone in the park to twiddle your thumbs and try to hold in the tears until you made it back to your bedroom. You didn’t have other friends to turn to. And that hadn’t so much changed as you aged.

“Look, Seresin, I don’t know how drunk you are to have crafted whatever ridiculous thoughts you have in your mind, or maybe you’re fucking with me to give your friends a show, but whatever it is, just so we’re clear, I’m not going to date you.” You gave a sharp nod, your own form of a solid pat on the back for standing up for yourself and preserving your dignity in the face of a man so irritatingly attractive. Had you not known him from the moment of your birth, you might have thrown yourself at his feet and thanked him for the consideration of being his potential partner.

He was entirely unphased and made sure you knew it by the deep chuckle he released. “Pretty sure you don’t have a choice, sweetheart,” he said. “We could wait I guess, but it’s probably best we spend the next two years getting to know one another again, I’d think. I don’t have any intention of marrying someone who has grown to be a stranger.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

-----

“Darling, stop this wild pacing,” you mother said from her seat. “It makes you look unhinged.”

To her credit, it got you to stop, but you stared at her with eyes likely wilder than a raging monkey. “Mom!”

“It’s not that big of a deal. He’s a handsome man. You’ll be fine.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Your hands flew up in the air before they fell back to your sides, limp as a ragdoll beaten to death by fist after fist. “Why has no one, not a single fucking soul—”

“Language, young lady.”

“—ever fucking told me about this?”

“Y/N, your mouth!”

“Is that really what you care about right now!” you snapped, pointing a finger at her. “You and dad sold me off!”

She sighed, dejected at your outburst, and yet she still managed to look the prim, perfect woman she was, her hands delicately folded in her lap, legs properly crossed at the ankles. “That is not what happened.”

You scoffed. “Oh, no?”

Her head tilted and a manicured eyebrow rose. You’d recognize that gesture anywhere, too often from your childhood. She was waiting for you to get yourself together before she presented you with her speech. So you took a deep breath, allowed your arms to unweave from in front of your chest, and straightened your spine. She’d want more, but it was the best you were willing to give.

“When you were a baby,” she began, “your father and George Seresin merged their companies, as you know, and to ensure they each have a hand in the business after their deaths, they decided a merger of another form would be beneficial as well,” she paused as if that alone explained the madness, but then continued once it became clear you weren’t going to immediately snap at her. “You and Jake, as a couple, will run the company one day and—”

“And you didn’t think to share this with me?”

“Why tell you before it was necessary?”

“Jake knows!”

“That’s a recent development,” your mother said, shifting uncomfortably on the chaise longue. “And only because he inquired as to whether or not you currently have a boyfriend. Amelia felt it a good time to tell him that your relationship status with other men wouldn’t be worth the concern.”

Of course, he would get to know by asking a simple question. Of course, it would fall into his lap. His mother held a respect for him yours for you did not. A wife, for fucks sake. You would be his damn wife. And to the woman who birthed you, that acknowledgement couldn’t possibly be shown more casually. “Unbelievable,” you muttered.

“He’s very handsome.”

“As if that’s all that matters.”

She stood on her three-inch satin heels that clicked against the hardwood when she made her way over to you. A coco-butter-moisturized hand cupped your cheek. The other brushed the unruly hair from your face. “You could do much worse, darling, and I’m not sure much better. He could have waited to mention it, but he clearly wants to fall in love the old-fashioned way, and he’s willing to give you almost two whole years to fall with him.”

Smacking her hands away from your face, you took a step out of the cloud of Chanel perfume, and granted her a look that, directed at you, would’ve had you shrinking in your spot, but your mother stood firm.

“That’s not going to happen,” you said. 

And you would make sure of it. 

tags: @marvel-ousnesss @thespeeder @nobody7102 @marrianena @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot @smoothdogsgirl @smit41​

[atimefordragons]

RANI MAIN HU TU MERA RAJA JODI APNI GHAZAB LAGE ISHQ KARUNGI MAIN ITNA JYADA PYAR MANGEGA HAR DAFFE.

☾♔; November 20, 2023 ☾♔; 10:53am ☾♔; sotd: Chaleya (from Jawan) ☾♔; cotd: Gojo Satoru ☾♔; High Fashion Layout, I Guess, IDK ☾♔; Birthday Playlist/Miseries

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: lyrics from "Faraatta", too lazy to translate

my yearly birthday playlist set, lol. I have no idea what's going on with this, I was trying to reflect my Gojocoping/Jawan whoring mood, but idk. Oh well, whatever.

It's been a shitty ass birthday month this year. We had plans to go to Laudree, but everyone's sick, so we can hardly go and cough on everything. There was the usual family + bestie crew for the dinner party, I made everyone watch Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham. A non-usual crewmate, my mom's old bestie came to visit and stay over, and mixed with the shittyness of the month and being sick, I got more pissed off than usual about it. Because she came, the sunday plans to go to the mall with dad and cousin to buy OUR birthday gifts (cause all of three of us, plus my bil next weekend, all are nov babies) were abandoned cause my mom made dad take her and her bestie to costco for whatever. Like, we had to adjust all our birthday plans multiple times this month cause everyone's been sick af, and that is unavoidable, but this uninvited guest was avoidable! even if we didn't end up making it to the mall or wherever, it would've been cause WE were too tired or lazy, not because some fucking rando wanted to go somewhere else. like, this lady has 3 grown ass kids, all living in the same damn city, but she chose to invite herself over to stay the weekend of MY birthday. I didn't fucking invite her and at least this time of the year I should get a choice about it. I am being petty about it, but it's my birthday, I get to be petty. The lil cuz and I were gonna buy like a gojo plushie or a pochita for her, and finally some Sumeru merch at Sukoshi, and lush and sephora, and I was SUPPOSED to finally get my new phone this weekend. I actually need it now cause the back of my phone is coming off, and there's no time this week cause MORE guests, and this time it's my dad's shitty ass youngest brother (like okay, as a fellow youngest spoiled child, I understand why he's like that, but he's a 40-50 year old man, grow up my dude). //////////////////sigh///////////////// lowkey should've taken up my sister's offer to spend my b-day, bil's b-day, and american thanksgiving with them, but papa and me let our passports expire and it's too late now to make it in time for the events. lolz.

IT'S BETTER TO BE A VILLAINESS https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0P6UvecbhiqwnwFEvjwSmz?si=f12ee4888dbd467d

All Senses Clear, All Existence Void - HOYO-MiX

Zinda Banda - Anirudh Ravichander, Irshad Kamil

Queen of Kings (Italian Version) - Alessandra

Targaryen Theme (Epic Version) - Samuel Kim

Rani's Intro Theme - Brianna Supriyo, Dev Arijit, Antara Mitra

Faraatta - Anirudh Ravichander, Arijit Singh, Jonita Gandhi, Badshah, Kumaar

Bad Blood (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift

Surasthana Fantasia - HOYO-MiX

Veer-Zaara Part At Station - Madan Mohan, Javed Akhtar

Tere Vaaste - Sachin-Jigar, Varun Jain, Shadab Faridi, Altamash Faridi, Amitabh Bhattacharya

Wildest Dreams (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift

Thunderings of the Merciless - HOYO-MiX

Dracarys - Ramin Djawadi

SPECIALZ - King Gnu

Levitating - Dua Lipa

Maasi Theme - Anirudh Ravichander, Heisenberg

Shall We Begin? - Ramin Djawadi

Ishq Shava - A.R. Rahman, Raghav, Shilpa Rao, Gulzar

Blank Space (Taylor's Version) - Taylor Swift

Dance the Night - Dua Lipa

Nephrite of Deshret - HOYO-MiX

Reign - Ramin Djawadi

Not Ramaiya Vastavaiya - Anirudh Ravichander, Vishal Dadlani, Shilpa Rao, Kumaar

What Jhumka? - Pritam, Arijit Singh, Jonita Gandhi, Ranveer Singh, Madan Mohan, Amitabh Bhattacharya

Ladki Badi Anjani Hai - Kumar Sanu, Alka Yagnik

[queenmiarys]

Please excuse any errors or mistakes and I want to say thank you to whom all reads. Happy Sunday everyone.

Through  Hell and back

Trr none royal

Pairing: Olivia x Anton

Chapter summary: it's Juliana's birthday and Olivia cut loose and has some fun but confused about Anton's reaction after the party.

Warning: mentions of attempted rape, being tipsy and light profanity.

All characters belong to pixelberry I just borrowed them for my stories.

Word count 1,928

Song inspiration:

Part 2 Green eyed monster

It was Sunday afternoon. Olivia turned over and grabbed her phone, it was now 2pm. " Oh shit Liam."

She dialed his number."I'm so sorry but on the way?"

    

"Liv, we talked with Kiki earlier and she explained your date went over, so I understand I told her to let you sleep, besides you are coming to Juliana party tonight right? 

"Sure I'll be there."

Are you bringing this new guy along?" 

"I don't think so."

"Really you should invite him."

When Olivia arrived at the party, everyone was having a good time. "There you are, Max said, slurring his words." So we don't get to meet this new guy?" Kiki said that he was hot,  but I bet not hotter than me." He laughed, I could already tell he was tipsy. . 

"Babe, come with me so you can cool down some." A wicked grain from Juliana all it took and he followed her upstairs.

—------

Liam and Mia had walked over to Olivia.

"My love, would you mind if I spoke to Olivia for a moment?" Liam said to his girlfriend 

"You know I don't mind, baby." 

Once they made it outside." So you really like this guy Anton?"

"He's okay, but honestly I really don't know him well. We just went on one date."

"Have you talked with Drake at all?"

"No not at all, it's been over a year since we spoke."

"Here's the thing, remember Riley?"

l

"You mean his girlfriend??"

"Yeah her."

 

"Would you just get to the point already?"

"He asked her to marry him last week." 

"Why would you be afraid to tell me this?"

"Well No one really knows how serious the two of you were, but  I knew you both loved each other and despite him meeting this Riley girl you'll always be his first love and the same for you."

"Liam it doesn't mean anything." She couldn't stop the tears from falling.Liam just held her without saying a word for a few minutes. 

"I'm here for you, we can talk about it if you want or not."

"Did you know he was my first?"

"I figured as much, you were so  very young."

"Come on, you guys are only 2 years older than me."

"True, but you know how Drake is, you know he went against his own rules and took a chance with you only being 16, I remember right before you got together you two were always at each other's throats, I remember when he confused he had feelings for you and wanted to come forth, he thought you hated him, you know I encouraged him to just talk to you and treat you better."

.

" Thank you for that, um We should go back in before they come looking for us." She said to change the subject and to keep from reliving the past, besides he's engaged now. 

"Yeah I suppose so, so when do I meet this Anton guy?" Oh look at that smile you really like him huh?"

"He seems alright." 

They returned to the party. "Come on people let's dance the night away a very drunken Bertrand yelled out, Maxwell re entered the party with a change of clothes on, Bertrand and Maxwell broke into dancing to,  it actually look like Max had taught his brother some moves, what was impressive was that Bertrand was so drunk he threw off his shirt, and throw it over his head to Penelope who caught it and was super excited, Bertrand winked at her, until he saw Savannah walk up behind her. 

—--------------- 

Drake called Juliana on FaceTime. " Hi Drake oh hi you must be Riley?" 

She smiled. "Yes, nice to meet you."

"Same here he's told me so much about you

"Excuse me, but I called to wish you Happy birthday kid, I really wish we could've been there."

"I totally understand." She said giggling. Some things never change. Drake will always be himself, she thought.

Olivia was walking past, Juliana was talking and she heard Drake voice but also another female, she peeped in to see a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes,  her heart sunk in her chest, it's been over a long time she thought who could blame him for moving on it had been 2 years she was brought from her thoughts when she heard Juliana speaking again

"Look guys, I hate to cut things short, but I need to get back to my party."

Okay Juliana talk later."

—-----------

"So that's Maxwell's wife?" She's beautiful." 

"So are you, Brooks, and yes I was certainly surprised when Beaumont got married, he was pretty wild back in the day." 

"I've only met Liam in person, and your sister, I would like to meet everyone else, and that video call doesn't count."

"One day you will, Liam has invited you to his wedding, you know I'm the best man so I would be going down early.

" Just how early?" 

"I need to go a week in advance." 

"I can't let them have you for a week." She teased pulling his 6"3  frame down to her 5"4 and kissed him."I love you Mr Walker."

"I love you too."

He couldn't help but to think of Olivia and the way she used to do the same, only Olivia stood 5" nothing. He closed his eyes and shook his head. 

"Baby I need to take a walk, just to clear my head." 

"Okay baby, don't be too late." 

He walked to a nearby park.

" Liv, stop, why do you act like you hate me so much?" 

"Drake please just go."  " I didn't ask you to be my knight and shining armor."

"Look at me, did Jason, just try to hurt you?" She started to cry. That was all the confirmation he needed. "That son of a b**** , "Beaumont, can you sit with Liv till I return?"

"Go ahead, I won't leave her." 

Once Drake made it inside  Jason was standing surrounded by several  females. "Just who I was looking for, I'll  teach you to never touch a lady when she says no." 

Drake punched him and he fell to the ground,  Drake continued to punch him. Until Liam jumped in front of him,  pleading with him to stop. 

"Drake you're going to kill him, come on go with me and get some air."

They got outside." What the hell happened?" 

"That sob tried to rape her, she's a mess, Liam you know how I feel about her."

Once he returned home Riley questioned him going home "Oh, so you want to go without me?"

"Brooks, it's my best friend's wedding. I can't miss that."

He pulled her over to him, and gently kissed her neck." 

"Come on, let's  go take a shower, we will meet up with your mom in a few hours.

"We can just get ready then."

Brooks, I love you, but you take forever to get ready for like 2 to 3 hours and on top of it all, you hate waking up it takes you 30 minutes to wake fully up." 

"Let's pick something to wear,  and take our shower together."

4 hours later. 

"Brooks,  get up  it's been 30 minutes, it's 9:30 we are supposed to meet your vmom in an hour. " 

"I'm up." Drake was just staring ." Don't worry it's going up in a messy bun, it's only mom."

__________________

Olivia work up to her phone Vibrating, she and Juliana, joined by Kiara and Penelope all fell asleep while watching a movie, everyone was drunk except Mia 

"Hello?" She answered. "Oh Anton, how are you?"

"I'm good, so did you have fun last night?"

"It was okay, wish you could've come, me and most of the girls ended up watching a movie falling asleep."

"So you are still there?"  A hint of jealousy came into his voice. But he quickly changed his tone

"Yes I am, 

"I have to go, talk later." He quickly hung up the phone in her face. 

She stood there in shock for a moment. "Is everything okay?" Mia asked whom Olivia didn't know was in the room.

"Yes it's fine, I got to get to work." 

"Me and Liam both too, it's a good thing I own my own business." Today I'll do 12 till 8.

"There you are my love." Liam gave her a kiss and handed her some money. Remember no ATM use, remember off limits."

She let out a sigh. "Okay I promise. "

"Gotta go." he gave her one more kiss

"What's this you not getting money from the atm?" You have new shoes and a new handbag? Olivia said, rolling her eyes. 

"It's the reason Liam went all crazy on me, and he's been very strict on what I spend, I mean the man puts my bank account to shame. He's only 22, he gave me 20 bucks and said that should be enough for lunch." 

"He's always saved up, but he's also indulged in his lavish gifts as well. "

"He's just showing me how to save and what I should invest in, well I must be going now."

Everyone rushed off to work.

—-----------------

Two weeks later,  Anton had come over for dinner. Olivia wasn't the greatest cook, but her mom taught her a few Pasta dishes and how to make the sauce to go with them. "It smells wonderful in here, I didn't know you could cook."

"Well not really,  these few dishes I know were passed down from my mom, I used to help her a lot." 

There was a knock on the door. "Ki did you forget your keys?" She said as he opened the door revealing her father and brother standing there. "Father, Joel

"We just came to see, would you like to go get a bite with us?".

 

"While father I have company, and I cooked

"You cooked as in food?"

"stop it, of course I cooked food silly .

"you must really like this new guy?" Can we meet him

"Sure brother, come in." She opened the door and they all went into the dining room and introduced them, her father knew who Anton was already

"Anton this is my father Lionel and my brother Joel

"Nice to meet you." They both said in union.

They sat and talked for a while, but it was just something that Joel didn't like about his sister new man.

"Sis I hate to run but I got some stuff to handle."her brother said as he stood up to leave.

She hugged her brother and walked him out.

"So what do you think brother?" 

"I honestly don't know yet sis, I mean so far I don't like him, he just has a negative vibe and until then I can't say what it is but I don't like this guy sis."

"You don't like anyone I date so what else is new?" Are you dating anyone ?"

"I was just hooking up with this guy named Kevin." 

"So no one special?"

Maybe when I'm old enough, 27 is still young and beside no one looking for me to marry or have a child, since I don't swing for the right team, as aunt Lucinda always tells me how it's a sin to date men and all."

"You can't listen to her, she is so wrapped up in us but doesn't see that Amber is Bi and Casey may be as well, it'll serve her right for looking down on people." 

"Thanks you're the best little sister."

"I'm your only sister." She said with a big smile..

"Let me get back to Anton." She hugged him and went back inside.

Anton sat in the dining room talking to her father but watching the scene out the window. 

"Dinner was delicious, but I must be going." He hid how angry he was that her dad and brother crashed their date.

@kingliam2019 @choicesficwriterscreations @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @kaitycole @karahalloway

@honey358luv @harleybeaumont @kingliam-rys @tessa-liam @bebepac @dcbbw @mom2000aggie

@lolablackwrites @luvquit @shewillreadyou @yaniradolton @yolandawalker @yourmajesty09 @storyofmychoices @queenrileyrose @ao719 @angelasscribbles @aussiegurl1234

[bihansthot]

In a non self ship update, Ani has been sending me spicy/flirty basically sexts all day he’s so in trouble when I get a hold of him. He’s not having a great mental health day so I won’t see him until Saturday or Sunday but he made sure to get me worked up. He still hasn’t decided if he’ll come to my birthday party I don’t know if party is the right word if a max of three people show up but maybe he will? It would certainly be nice having both the people I care about celebrate turning 800 million. I wish you lovelies could come celebrate with me. 🩷 I understand if he’s uncomfortable though he and my partner have never met so it’s an awkward situation. Hilariously after chatting with Ani I got an ad for an Anakin statue on Facebook and I thought it was very funny and apropos. I have a busy week of stupid lab work and doctor’s appointments next week before my actual bday on Friday, and we still haven’t booked anything yet. We’re planning on doing a Vegas in Detroit weekend because we can’t afford to go to Vegas and I’ve wanted to go for years so we’re doing the next best thing and going to the casino in downtown and staying the night if we can find boarding accommodations for Denny. I know some of you are like “Sol you’ve had months to plan this” yes we have but we had to save up money and get Denny up to date on his vaccines to be able to board him so we can’t book anywhere until tomorrow afternoon after his vet annual. So it’s all kind of last minute. Hopefully we’ll find someplace and if not we’ll just have a quiet birthday at home, my big plans for my 25th heart transplant anniversary never went anywhere so it wouldn’t really surprise me if my milestone bday doesn’t work out either my bday rarely goes well but that’s just life I guess. Either way we should still be able to have a nice dinner which is what I’m really excited about, even though I can’t eat a lot anymore. I’m only 35-40 mins from the casino so really I can go anytime if it doesn’t work out I just thought it’d be fun to have an irresponsible staycation somewhere fancy. I just wanted us all to have a fun time but I suppose we’ll see what the universe has in store for us. I really never thought I’d see this bday as I was supposed to die as a kid so it’s kind of a huge deal I just hope it’s a fun one, my last big milestone bday was my worst ever (long story short my Mother and I had a very toxic relationship at the time, she got shit faced insisted it was her bday and ruined the whole occasion) so as long as it’s better than that we’ll be good. I unofficially celebrated my bday when I was with my family earlier this week and had my favorite cake but much to my dismay my nephews were not fans of it but they loved my cooking and begged my brother to get lessons from me so that was nice. How do an 8 and 10 year old not like a caramel chocolate cake?! I guess the pecans were the problem they don’t have allergies they just don’t like nuts I guess. They’re very picky and light eaters but I guess that’s expected at that age, hell I’m a billion and am still very picky but it’s a texture issue for me not a taste one. All in all the visit was successful but my partner never got a chance to tell their Mom they’re nonbinary and use they/them pronouns and have a new name. The drive was awful, we got a speeding ticket on the way to my partner’s Mom’s and had insane traffic and weather driving back from my folks in Florida, turns out Denny barks incessantly when the windshield wipers are on 😭 We made it safely though so that’s what’s most important, I haven’t made any weight loss progress though because of all the holiday food and lack of exercise. No excuses now that my routine is back to normal, back to the elliptical and healthy foods. Just figured I’d update you lovelies on what’s going on with me, I’ll post later in the week after my cardiologist appointment to keep y’all up to date with that too. Sending lots of love.

XOXO

Sol

[navalcriminalimagines]

I did a rewatch of Friends recently and this is completely inspired by Monica and Chandler. In season 5, ep 8, we see a thanksgiving flashback where Monica cooks Mac and cheese for Chandler and he tells her “you should be a chef” and what does she do for a living? She’s a chef 👩‍🍳 so yeah, this is where I got this fic idea. And there will be a part two!

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader

Warnings: young!Rafael, age difference, shitty father

Words count: 3k

Baker

October 1996

It was nice to have your brother and his long time best friend, Rafael, back in town again. After studying in Harvard for several years, your brother went to California for an internship and Rafael went to Miami, where some of his relatives lived. But now, they are both back in New York City and a lot of things have changed.

Except for your crush on your brother’s best friend. You were just a little girl when you first met Rafael and it didn’t take long before you’d tell everyone who’d listen that you’d marry him one day.

Despite being uncomfortable around kids, Rafael thought it was cute and would play along. When you were seven and Rafael was sixteen, he surprised you with a small plastic ring, bringing the biggest smile ever on your face.

But you weren’t a kid anymore. You were seventeen and you were pretty sure you were hopelessly in love with him. But of course, he wasn’t. Nope. He was in love with Yelina. And engaged. It broke your heart so bad, you almost threw the ring you kept in a jewelry box away - it was too small for you to still wear it. But you thought against it. Maybe things would be different one day.

It was almost Rafael’s twenty-seven birthday. You had been saving money to offer him a nice briefcase, now he was a junior ADA. But you changed your mind after seeing Rafael before his birthday.

“Rafi, hey!” You greeted him, surprised to see him at your brother’s apartment, which you were supposed to clean - you and your brother had an arrangement so you would make some money. After all, you were a senior in high school and the coffee shop where you worked didn’t pay very well. “What are you doing here?” You asked after hugging him and pecking his cheek.

“Your brother asked for my help on something he’s working on. I had some time to kill so I came early,”

“To empty his fridge?” You joked since he was eating some sort of leftovers.

“Bite me.” He smiled. “I skipped breakfast.”

“Do you want me to go all Mrs Diaz on you?”

He laughed at that, and intently watched you as you started to throw your brother’s trash away. “Will you ever be able to call her Catalina? She hates it when you call her ‘Mrs Diaz’.” He said, trying to sound like you.

“Probably not, and I do not sound like that.”

Since his plate was finished, he put it in the sink and started to do the dishes. “That’s my job.” You told him.

“Let me help, Nena.” Rafael had his back to you, so you didn’t try to hide the grin forming on your face. He had been calling you Nena (babygirl) for years and you loved it.

“Yelina’s lucky.” You just said. Maybe you were trying to hurt yourself, you weren’t quite sure.

“I’m the lucky one.” He answered and it felt like a punch in your guts.

You kept cleaning the apartment in silence while Rafael finished the dishes. “I wanted to invite you to my birthday party next weekend, but your brother disagreed.” He said, out of nowhere. You made a mental note to kick your brother in his genitals. “You can join us at my parents’ on that Sunday though. Mami will be happy to see you.”

“I’d love that but I work on Sundays.”

“You work too much for a senior, Y/N. Your brother told me you didn’t know what to do next year?”

“Oh god, Rafaelo. Not you, please.” You rolled your eyes. Your professional future had been a constant argument in your family for the past year.

“Fine, fine. But, I’m here if you need, okay?” He had moved from the open kitchen to you and he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You smiled but this conversation was over for now.

“Will Mrs Diaz be back in time for your birthday?”

He sighed and walked up to your brother’s desk, which he started to clean. “Unfortunately not. I’m happy she’s having fun in Miami, but it will be my first birthday without her. It’s weird.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Plus, I won’t have my cake.”

“Um,” you thought for a second. “Mango cake with coconut?”

He laughed. “Exactly.”

It hit you. Forget about the briefcase for a moment, you decided that you’d make his grandma’s cake for his birthday. But you’d need the recipe first. Another mental note: call Lucia Barba when you get home.

You and Rafael kept cleaning the apartment until your brother arrived and the guys immediately started to work. You had a shift starting soon so you left when you were done, kissing them both on the cheek. “Next time you let your hair in the sink, I’m kicking your ass, L/N.” You told your brother as you left.

The next day, you did call Lucia to ask for the recipe. “Oh mija. I’d love to, but Mami doesn’t have a recipe. She just bakes.” She told you.

“Oh,” you tried not to sound too disappointed. Last thing you needed was for Lucia to discover how hopelessly in love you were with her engaged son.

“Look, I’ll call her and see if she can give you guidelines. Will it work?”

“Yeah, totally! That’d be great!”

“Bueno. I’ll call you back. And Y/N, that’s very sweet of you.”

“I know he doesn’t like the idea of his grandma not being here for his birthday. Just want to do a little something.”

“You’re lovely. I’m sorry sweetheart, but I gotta go.”

“Yeah, sure. Thank you Mrs Barba.”

“I’m not going to ask you to call me Lucia anymore, seems irrelevant,” she chuckled. “Bye y/N.”

“Bye Ma’am.”

You considered looking for a Cuban cooking book, but you wanted the cake to be exactly like Mrs Diaz’s. And luckily, a couple of days later, your mother told you that she called while you were at school. She left a number to your mum and she immediately called back.

“Mrs Diaz, thank you for calling me.” You told her.

“Niña,” she said to warn you about the ‘Mrs Diaz’. “Lucia told me you want to bake Rafael’s cake?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay with you, of course.”

“You’re too good for my grandson.” She said, and you knew why she did. Catalina wasn’t a big fan of Yelina. She didn’t trust her, and thanks to your brother, you knew that she didn’t take the engagement very well. ‘I would be a better wife than her for Rafael.’ You wanted to tell her.

She didn’t have a recipe, but Catalina gave you every info she could on how to bake the Mango cake. You wrote everything down, and thanked her multiple times before hanging up.

After that, you spent days trying to perfectly bake Rafael’s cake. All you had to know how it was, was your memory of eating this cake a few years ago and your family’s opinion. “Geez, it’s perfect already,” your brother growled. “You’re going to make me hate mangos and coconut for the rest of my life.”

But you tried again. And again. Until it actually was Rafael’s birthday.

You did buy the briefcase you set your eyes on a while ago, but put it aside. You knew that Rafael was having a birthday party on Saturday with his friends - and Yelina - but you weren’t invited thanks to your brother being the overprotective dumbass he was.

Before your shift at the coffee shop, you stopped by Rafael’s parents place to drop the cake. According to Mrs Diaz, it’s even better the next day, so that was perfect. “You actually did it!” Lucia welcomed you. “Rafi is going to love it.” She took the cake from you and put it in the fridge.

“It’s probably not as good as your mother’s,” you said and saw Rafael’s father coming from the living room. “Hola Mr Barba.” You greeted him.

“Y/N,” he said. “What is my son going to love?” He asked.

“Y/N cooked Mami’s mango cake, since she’s still in Miami.”

“You a baker?”

“No, no. It actually was the first time I'm baking something.”

“For my son?”

“Si,”

You had no Cuban, or any other origins that would explain that you’d talk Spanish, but you knew for a fact that Rafael’s father is more comfortable with his native language. Not that making him comfortable was what you wanted. To be honest, the man scared the shit out of you for years, until he finally warmed up to you. Rafael never clearly told you what was going on behind closed doors but he did say it to your brother and you were an idiot. “Will you be joining us tomorrow to taste it then?” He asked in Spanish. His invitation took you by surprise, as well as Lucia, from the look on her face.

“I’d have loved to, but I’m working tomorrow.” You answered in his native language.

“Bueno. Don’t let this make this an annual habit though, Rafael needs to grow up and cut the cords with his grandmother. He’s not a little boy who needs to be fed anymore.”

You watched Lucia rolling her eyes, but she stayed silent. You couldn’t do so. “It has nothing to do with that. It’s a tradition Rafael and Mrs Diaz had been sharing since he was little. Traditions are important, aren’t they? Would you stop eating turkey on thanksgiving? Aren’t you going to dress up in red and blue in two weeks for the fiesta? Don’t you enjoy this fireworks on the 4th of July?”

Lucia looked at you with eyes wide open. First because you were standing up against her husband but also because you knew a little about Cuban traditions. Mr Barba shrugged his shoulders and left the kitchen. “You should teach my son how to stand up for himself.” He said over his shoulder.

Of course, Lucia apologized for her husband’s behavior but it didn’t matter. His opinion mattered to Rafael but not to you. If you needed to teach something to Rafael, it would be this.

Sunday at the Barbas’ place

Rafael, your brother, Yelina and Alex were all hung over from the previous night and that wasn’t something Rafael’s father missed. What was supposed to be a celebration, quickly turned into an argument between the birthday boy and his dad. Before Rafael realized what was happening, his father had asked - or more like ordered - the guests to leave. Yelina tried to convince Rafael to come with them, but he felt like he needed to stay for a moment. If he didn’t, his father would take his frustrations on his mother and that wasn’t something he was going to let happen. “Come on Rafi,” Yelina whined.

“Yelina, I’m staying. You guys go. I’ll see you later,” he briefly pecked her lips, and went back inside the apartment. His father was still sitting in his armchair, and Rafael joined his mother in the kitchen.

“Lo siento, Mijo—“ she started to say and Rafael dismissed her with his hand.

“Not your fault, Mami.”

“You should look in the fridge. A little birdie dropped something that may make you smile.”

Puzzled, Rafael opened the fridge and saw a white box. “Here,” Lucia said, handing him an envelope, “it goes with it.”

Rafael took the box out of the fridge and opened it. His jaw dropped. “How did abuela—“

“Open the envelope, Rafi.”

He did.

‘This may not be your abuela’s but I hope I did a good job and that it would bring a smile to your sweet face. Happiest birthday to you, mi Rafaelo. Te quiero. :)

-Nena’

Rafael was speechless. He stared at the card for a very long time. With everything that had happened a moment ago, he didn’t dry off the single tear rolling down his cheek.

“She wants you to smile, not cry, Mijo.”

“Yo lo sé. It’s just—that’s the most thoughtful gift ever.”

He almost didn’t want to eat the cake and kept it forever if it was possible. But his mother handed him a knife. “Taste it and let her know how she did.”

“She did perfect, no matter how the cake tastes.”

Unbelievably, the cake was amazing. Probably better than his grandmother - not that he would ever tell her that. Rafael couldn’t help it but to eat two pieces in a row. His mother ate one and despite the tension, he offered one to his father.

“Y/N made it.” He told him.

“I know. This girl has quite a personality.” Rafael looked at his father, asking for explanations with his eyes. “I’m just saying that for a seventeen years old girl, she’s not afraid to speak up. I like her.”

Mr Barba didn’t say more after, but Lucia did tell Rafael, in private, what had happened the day before.

By the end of the day, Rafael had packed two pieces of the cake and went to your parents’ house. “Rafael! Happy birthday!” Your father greeted him.

“Thank you, Mr. L/N.” He smiled.

“We have a gift for you, but if I gave it to you without my wife, she’s going to be pissed.” Your father joked - but it was true.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“No sense.” He patted his back. “AJ’s not here.”

“I know, but I would like to see Y/N. Is she here?”

“Basement. Is that the cake she baked for you?”

“Ah, um, yeah. I want her to eat a piece with me.” Rafael smiled, still not over what you did.

“Good. For what’s worth, we won’t be eating mangos and coconuts for years in this house. Y/N spent a whole week trying to bake it to perfection, and we were her Guinea pigs.”

It was more than he thought. Rafael felt his heart tightens in his chest. “I’ll go see her,” he said, walking to the basement, where you were doing your homework while listening to music. Your father made the basement livable for your brother years ago, and now it was your space. “Hey there, Nena,”

You jumped on your couch, obviously straddle by Rafael. You put your books aside and met him as he was walking to you. “Hey there birthday boy,” you hugged him like you usually did, but Rafael held you tighter and longer than usual. Not you were complaining, you actually enjoyed this as long as possible, burying your face in his neck and playing with the small hair in the back of his head.

“You are amazing,” he whispered, letting you go, but kissing your cheek before the physical contact was completely done.

“You liked your cake?” You smiled.

“Ay dios mio, Nena.” He growled. “First, the cake is fucking perfection, but the fact that you—did it. Bake it. For me.”

“I just wanted to make your grandma’s absence less painful.”

“You so did, Y/N.” He kissed your forehead. “Have a piece with me.”

He sat on the couch and took the two pieces out of the container. You quickly went to get spoons in the kitchen before settling next to him, so close to him that your knees were touching.

“You can never tell abuela but yours is better than hers,” he said, humming as he took a bite. It was his fourth piece and he couldn’t care less. “You should be a baker.” He said.

“Okay,” you answered, your mouth full of mango cake.

Rafael looked at you and chuckled at your reaction, without giving it a second thought.

“Mami told me you stood up against my dad yesterday.”

“Oh,”

“Y/N, even though I never had any doubt about your ability to stand up for yourself, I don’t want this to happen again.” He said, licking his spoon.

“But I—“

“I’m serious. I don’t want you anywhere near my father. Okay?”

‘For your own good’ he thought. ‘He can ruin many things for me, but not you.’

“As you want.” You said, finishing your plate. You have to admit that you were proud of yourself. The cake was really good.

When Rafael was done too, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Come here,” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and made you lean into him. Being playful, he started to cover your face with kisses. You pretended to want to get out of his grip, but enjoyed every second of it. It was just a goofy game, until you turned your face to look at him, your head to press against his shoulder. You saw his green eyes going from your own eyes to your lips and then back up. You forgot how to breathe at this very moment.

And it didn’t help when he leaned his face and closed the gap between his lips and yours.

It started with a very chaste kiss, with closed mouths, until Rafael parted his lips, letting his tongue out. You didn’t waste a second before granting him access. The kiss became more intense, you could taste the cake on his tongue. Rafael’s hands never left your cheek and your hair and yours hung onto his sweater. This was everything you ever wanted and more. Rafael was soft but passionate. You hoped the time would stand still.

But Rafael pulled away, and you immediately saw regrets written all over his face. “Lo siento, Y/N. I shouldn’t—“ he stood up, breaking all physical contact with you. “Forget what just happened, por favor.” He started to walk towards the stairs.

“Raf—“

“It shouldn’t have happened, Y/N and it never will again.” He muttered. “I gotta go.” He walked up the stairs four by four.

It was probably better to never let him know that it was your first kiss.

[derangedangel]

Kiss Interrupted - Klaus Mikaelson

Summary: Almost kiss, but interrupted for @idkhaylijah’s 3k followers challenge

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Word Count: 3,663

Author’s Note: Watch Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist which inspired this fic... okay it’s literally the base of this fic. Also, I didn’t realize until half way through it should be under 2k... sorry lol. Also the dress description I tried to give is the dress from Anastasia when she goes to the ballet. I haven’t posted in almost a year so be gentle please. 

It was a quiet afternoon in the Mikaelson home and you were enjoying a lunch with Rebekah. These moments where rare and few. You told your friend you didn’t feel like going out so she had lunch brought to the two of you. The dining table was set up beautifully so you still felt like you were dinging at one of New Orleans’s finest restaurants. Elijah was off to the side, enjoying a new novel. 

“Dear sister, why didn’t I receive an invitation to your lunch,” Klaus asked making his presence known as he entered from his study. 

Rebecca sighed placing her raspberry lemonade down before she acknowledged her annoying brother. “Nik, if you want to go on a lunch date with Y/N, just ask her yourself,” she quipped then smirked at Klaus. 

Your eyes grew as you paused mid-fork lift at Rebekah’s statement. 

Klaus replied quickly, no one noticing you get flustered at the thought of Klaus and you on a date. “I just wanted to bond with my little sister.”

“Oh, rubbish,” Rebekah said.

After you regained your composure you spoke up. “Would you care to join us, Klaus? There’s plenty of food.”

Rebekah spoke up before Klaus could respond. “Don’t offer him anything, Y/N. He’s just trying to bother us.”

Ignoring his sister Klaus smiled at you and said, “Thank you, love, but I’ll pass.”

“See, you don’t have to be nice to him,” Rebekah said, taking another sip of her drink.

“I like your family, Beks,” you replied, smiling at your friend. “In fact, I was thinking about having a dinner for my birthday next week if you would all like to come,” you asked looking at each of the Mikaelsons in the room.

Rebekah looked at you in shock. “Your birthday is next week?! How did I not know this?”

“Well, we’ve only know each other for a little over a year and last year when it was my birthday you Mikaelsons were having one of your... wars in the quarter,” you answered Rebekah but eyed Klaus at the last part of your sentence. 

Klaus raised his hands up in defense. “Don’t blame me. Blame the witches.”

“No friend of mine’s is just going to have a bloody dinner for her birthday,” Rebekah protested.

“Rebekah, I’ve had 49 other birthdays before this one. It’s no big deal,” you said nonchalantly before you took another bite of your meal.

“You’re turning 50,” Rebekah practically screeched. 

“Yeah. I’m a vampire, birthdays really don’t mean much anymore. I’m fine with a quiet dinner. I don’t need a lot of fuss over it.”

“Oh poppycock, Y/N. Fifty is a huge deal, regardless of the fact that you’re a vampire now. I’m throwing you a party. End of discussion,” Rebekah said then wiped the side of her mouth with her napkin and preceded to get up.

“You really don’t ha-,” you began to say but Rebekah interrupted you.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. The party is already in motion. And you deserve it.”

Elijah finally spoke up from his quiet corner, flipping the page in his book as he spoke. “There’s no use in fighting it, Y/N. Once my sister has plans for an event in her head, there’s no stopping her.”

You sighed, “Fine, do what you must Rebekah.”

“Fantastic,” Rebekah said clasping her hands together in joy. “And you won’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll start planning right now.”

                                                        ~.~

A few days later, you were once again at the Mikaelson home. It started to feel like you were there more than you were at your own place. But as a vampire, you had nothing but time and wanted to spend it with people you cared about. 

You sat at the kitchen counter while Klaus poured you some blood.

“How’s the party planning going,” Klaus asked making eye contact with you as he finished pouring. 

“I wouldn’t know. The only thing Bekah asked me about was a guest list and colors. She told me to come over this morning and that’s all I know.”

“I suppose she’s staying to true to the part about you not having to worry then,” Klaus said. He poured himself a glass of blood as well, but was standing on the other side of the counter. You were happy with the distance. For the past few months, something was brewing between you and the hybrid. You tried to ignore it. It was wrong. Klaus was Rebekah’s brother. He had a daughter to worry about and a city to rule. Not to mention, you knew he was trouble. It was best just to be strictly platonic with Klaus.

“I wish that were the case. From what I’ve seen, she’s going all out. A huge ball, which is completely unnecessary. And, no offense, but I’ve heard whenever you Mikaelsons throw a ball, something bad goes down.”

Klaus took a sip from his glass and titled his head. “In our defense, when we through a ball, it’s usually a ploy to find out what the wolves, witches, or other vampires are up too, or stake our claim in a new town.”

“So your record of successful, nondeath having balls would be?”

Klaus paused and thought for a moment. “None.”

“See,” you shouted pointing out the potential problem with your birthday party. 

A small smile graced Klaus’s face as he shook his head. “I’m sure your birthday will be the exception to that record.”

“How do you know,” you asked worried. Klaus began to move closer to your side of the counter. 

“No one would dare ruin a ball in your honor,” Klaus answered in a slightly serious tone.

“Okay, but how do you know that? Things have been pretty good for your family lately. And what would be a better time to strike than at a ball?”

“I wouldn’t allow anything to ruin your night. I’ll make sure the entirety of New Orleans knows not to try anything on Saturday night. They can burn down the city on Sunday for all I care, but I’ll rip their throats out if they try anything on Saturday,” Klaus replied. Somehow in your worriedness over your party, Klaus ended up right in front of you. 

You chuckled at Klaus’s statement. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.”

The two of you stared at each other in silence. Klaus could hear your heart pounding in your chest and you knew it from the way he smirked. He glanced down at your lips and you swallowed out of nervousness. He began to lean in slowly and you knew what was coming. You wanted this to happen. You had imagined how Klaus’s lips would feel against your own and it was finally about to happen. Forget your hesitance about why you should just be friends. You wanted him.

Your eyelids fluttered closed but then the two of you jumped apart at the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Y/N,” Hope shouted excitedly. 

“Hope,” you replied just as excitedly trying to ignore the pit in your stomach from almost kissing Klaus.

“Aunt Beks told me all about your party and I was wondering...,” she started then lingered hoping you would get the hit before she even had to ask.

You nodded smiling at the teenager. “Yes, Hope, you can invited whatever boy you have in mind.”

“Thank you,” she said eagerly as she hugged you.

“Boy?” Klaus perked up from where he now stood behind the counter again. “What boy?”

Hope looked to her father, but you spoke up before things had to get awkward between the lovestruck teenager and her overprotective father. “Oh Klaus, let the girl bring a date. It’s my party and I’m allowing it.”

“Well she’s my daughter,” Klaus replied.

“And it’s my party,” you said, eyes gleaming at Klaus. You had a sort of confidence at the fact that Klaus was going to kiss you. A boost in your ego if you will. “You wouldn’t deny the birthday girl what she wants on her birthday, would you?”

Klaus leaned over the counter smirking at you. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled back knowingly at him. 

You were a little lost in Klaus’s eyes so you didn’t initially notice when Rebekah entered the room.

“Alright, we’re already getting a late start. We’ve got to get moving, Y/N,” Rebekah said.

You turned away from Klaus to face your friend. “A late start on what, Bekah?”

“Dress shopping,” Rebekah said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. We have to find you a gown and have a seamstress tailor it to you. You have to look absolutely flawless on Saturday. I want it to look like you were born in that dress.”

You sighed closing your eyes to prepare yourself for the long day you knew you were about to have. Granted, you loved an extravagant gown and didn’t usually have a reason to wear one. But you knew Rebekah in party planning mode wasn’t going to be easy to deal with. “Fine, let me grab my bag and we can go.”

“Can I come too,” Hope asked looking between you and her aunt.

“Of course,” you smiled, happy to bring a buffer between you and Rebekah. 

                                                        ~.~

You were currently in your fourth dress. “Rebekah this is Hopeless.”

“I’m literally right here,” Hope said being cheeky.

You scowled at her joke and turned in the mirror. “I’m not loving any of these dresses. And this is our second store!”

“Be patient, darling,” Rebekah said as she went though another rack of dresses. “The prefect dress is here somewhere. Well, at least the perfect last minute dress.”

“Oh and speaking of last minute,” you said, stepping off the podium that was in front of the mirror, “I don’t have a date. How am I supposed to go to my own birthday ball dateless?”

“With the party I’m planning and the guest who will be trying to schmooze with you, you won’t even have time to entertain a date. And I’ll be busy on hostess duty so when I’m not with Marcel, you can dance with him.”

“Oh joy,” you said sarcastically turning on your heel. 

“And I’m sure one of my brothers will be loitering around somewhere. You can dance with one of them,” Rebekah said nonchalantly. Good thing she was busy looking at dresses or she would have seen your checks grow hot at the thought of dancing with Klaus. 

You walked over to another rack of dresses hoping to find the perfect one for your party. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw it. The perfect, show stopping, all eyes on you dress you had been searching for.

“Beks... I found it.”

Rebekah approached you and saw the dress you were holding so delicately in your hands. “You haven’t even tried it on yet.”

“I don’t need too. I already know.” You held the dress up to your body feeling the velvet material against your skin. “You think this is how brides feel when they find their wedding dress?”

Rebekah sighed, “I wouldn’t know.”

                                                            ~.~

After what felt like the longest week of your life, it was finally the night of your party. Rebekah made sure everything was taken care of, including having someone to do your hair and makeup. She even pulled out some old diamonds to go with your outfit. She mentioned something about a duchess owning them once, but your were to busy being blinded by the extravagant necklace to care. 

“Alright, the guest are starting to arrive,” Rebekah announced as she came into her room witch was your designated dressing room for the night. 

“Great! I’m ready,” you said standing up from your spot in front of the vanity. 

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere yet.”

“Why not,” you asked highly confused.

“You have to make an entrance! And you can’t do that with only ten people here,” Rebekah answered like you were out of your mind for even considering going down stairs.

You sat back down sighing. “So how long do I have to wait?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“What? But I’m ready now and-,” you began to say but Rebekah cut you off.

“No buts. You’ll thank me for it later when you see all those adoring people fawning over how incredible you look.”

“Fine,” you said crossing your arms over your chest. “Whatever.”

Thirty minutes later exactly, Rebekah returned and told you it was time. You left her room then waited for her to properly announce you before you made your way to the top of the stairs. She was right. It felt good to have everyone awing at how amazing you looked. You began to descend the stairs careful not to fall. Once you made it a few steps down, you saw Elijah ascend the stairs. Once he reached you, he held out his hand to escort you the rest of the way.

You smiled to the partygoers but spoke to the noble Mikaelson. “Thank you, Elijah. I was nervous I would tumble down these stairs then have to abruptly end the party out of embarrassment.”

Elijah kept his eyes forward as he lead you down the final steps. “You are more than welcome, Y/N. We couldn’t have the birthday girl enter her own party without a proper escort.”

You turned and smiled at him once you reached the bottom of the stairs. “We couldn’t,” you said then reached up to peck Elijah on the cheek. Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you saw Klaus scowl at his older brother. 

The party was going smoothly. Rebekah did an incredible job and was a great hostess. Every passing minute, you worries about a potential Mikaleson threat ruining the night faded away. You danced with Marcel twice, and Elijah excused himself from Hayley to dance with you. Hope was having a wonderful time with her date, and as far as you could tell, Klaus hadn’t threatened the young man at all. Speaking of Klaus, you hadn’t seen much of him the whole night. 

The live band Rebekah hired switch to a new slow song and you quickly recognized the instrumental ballad they were playing. 

“I love this song,” you said softly to yourself. 

“Pardon me,” you heard a low accented voice say from behind you and you turned.  

“Would the birthday girl care to join me for a dance,” Klaus asked, his hand outstretched to you.

You tried to control you smile, but it grew wide and bright. “I’d love to,” you answered, then placed your hand in Klaus’s.

Klaus walked you to the dancefloor then slowly wrapped his hand around the small of your back and raised your join hands together.

“It’s about time you spoke to me tonight,” you said, being the first to break the silence. “I was beginning to think an enemy crashed my party and you were handling it.”

“I spent the past week threatening every supernatural creature within a 500 mile radius so that very thing would not happen,” Klaus said. 

Klaus was light on his feet. Elijah danced very formally. His steps were calculated. Marcel’s steps were more on the modern side. He danced to more upbeat songs with you. Saving the slow ones for Rebekah, so he could hold her close. Klaus was... smooth. You could tell he had the same classical dance style as his older brother, but he wasn’t as focused on making the next perfect step. He was graceful, but carefree. 

“Please forgive me for not finding you earlier to tell you how ravishing you look,” Klaus said making you blush and look away from his piercing eyes. Although it felt like Klaus was ghost for most of the night, his eyes didn’t leave you wherever you went in the room. From the moment you entered the party, his eyes were glued to you. He was jealous he didn’t get to help you down the stairs. Your navy dress fit you like a glove. The sparkles on the cape-like feature always hit the light just right so you couldn’t be missed. He wished you weren’t wearing gloves so he could feel the velvet soft skin of your hand against his.

“Thank you. It was all Rebekah honestly,” you said then looked back up into Klaus’s eyes, “she put all this together. I just picked out the dress.” 

“No,” Klaus said softly shaking his head at you. You tilted your head in question at his response. “Do not give my sister the credit. Yes, she may have helped with your hair and the makeup, but even without that, you would still be breathtaking.”

After that compliment you were sure you would have a permeant smile on your face for the rest of the night. You didn’t know how to respond to Klaus’s sweet words. Your hand that was placed on his shoulder gently went to the nape of his neck. You moved in closer to him so your chests were now pressed against each other. Klaus’s grip around your waist tightened. There was a warmth in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. He began to lean down and your eyes fluttered shut.

“May I have everyone’s attention,” Rebekah’s voice boomed around the room without the need for a mic in her hands.

The bleak feeling of disappointment overtook you and Klaus as you pulled apart. Your hand glided down his arm, wanting to remain touching him in some way. 

“If the birthday girl would please come to the front so...”

                                                         ~.~

The party was basically over now. Just a few stragglers left. Everything went off without a hitch. You couldn’t have asked for a better night. Well, there was one thing you could ask for.

“Klaus?”

Klaus was alone on the balcony. Typical dramatic Mikaelson. 

He turned when you called his name. Your silhouette was perfect against the night sky. “Shouldn’t you be inside entertaining guest,” Klaus asked.

“I’m all party-ied out now,” you said then chuckled. A short breeze came by making you shiver as you reached Klaus near the railing.

“Here,” Klaus said, taking off his suit jacket and placing it over your shoulders. His hands lingered on you arms. “You should be inside.”

You tried to ignore the thud of you heart against your rib cage so you could speak. “You should be inside, too,” you pointed out, seeing as he was outside before you.

“Thousand year old hybrid here, love,” Klaus said smiling down at you. His hands left your arms and were now in his pant’s pockets.

“Fifty year old vampire here, Nik,” you stated being a smartass. 

Klaus shook his head as he laughed. “I think I may have you beat by a few hundred years.”

“Yeah, well, I should be fine out here as long as you’re here,” you said turning to the balcony, no longer looking at him.

There it was again. That warmth he felt when he was around you. It was like sunshine after a long and dark snowstorm. He felt light, at ease with you.

“You will be,” Klaus said. You turned your head to look at him and he was smirking at you. 

You felt nervous and giddy at the same time. Like a high schooler texting a new crush.  “What,” you asked smiling at him.

“You...,” Klaus said, his eyes trailed over your body. “You’re remarkable. I’ve done a countless amount of horrible things, but somehow, I’ve gotten the chance to know you... and you’re incredible.”

Your nerves were getting the best of you. Once again, you tried your best to control you smile, but you face was getting hot. “Klaus...,” you mutter, his name coming off your lips like a secret you wanted to keep for yourself. You nudged him lightly with your hand in a playful matter, but he grabbed it. His eyes serious on you.

He pulled you in closer. Your eyes searching his face for an answer to the thousands of questions that were going through your head. Suddenly, he let go of your hand and walked away. You were shocked to say the least. Blinking back utter confusion. 

Klaus walked up to the balcony doors and shut them. He turned around and faced you, a devilish grin on his face. “So we don’t get interrupted this time.”

Your shoulders relaxed as you smiled. Your sudden confusion melting away and turning to joy. “Good thinking.” 

Klaus took wide steps towards you, meeting you most of the way as you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his shoulders once he reached you. His hands gripped your waist. His lips finally collided with yours. No interruptions. No worrying about what other people would think, or reasons why this could be a bad idea. Just you and him.

It was a good thing that the two of you were already dead, because the kiss was heart stopping. You removed your gloves earlier in the night, so your delicate hands were roaming through his hair as the kiss grew more intense. 

A flame ignited in Klaus’s chest from your touch. Your kiss was intoxicating and he knew he would never get enough. Why did he wait so long to do this again?

Klaus pulled back just as breathless as you. His hands rested respectfully on your lower back, while one of your hands was on his chest and the other in his hair. 

“Happy birthday, Y/N, ” Klaus said softly. 

In you post kiss daze you replied, “huh?”

“It’s after midnight,” Klaus explained. “You’re party was on Saturday, but now it’s Sunday. So it’s officially your birthday.”

A warm feeling grew in your tummy. This man already knew you so well. “Thank you,” you said gleaming up at him. You were already in deep with Klaus. There was no turning back now.

“You’re welcome, love,” Klaus replied. His hand now cupping your cheek as he gazed into your eyes. 

“Best. Birthday. Ever.”

[coconutstars]

Right people at the wrong time p.IV

Part I | Part II | Part III 

Pairing: Stiles + reader   Prompt: Perhaps, we were the right people at the wrong time Summary: Reader and Stiles finally get to talk things out and figure out if they are, finally, the right people at the right time (of course they are, I’m not cruel) A/N: HELLO, HOLA, BONJOUR. This is it. This is the thrilling conclusion. It’s long, it’s cute and every chic-lit lovers dream. Fair warning, it’s not proofed at all so be ready for some mess- ups here and there. I did my best. Hope y’all aren’t too disappointed! Thank you for all the kind comments on the other parts, they’ve warmed my heart so much. Anywho, enjoy my lovely friends.  ♡

[ :: ]

“So… are we just not going to talk about you and Stiles?” Kira was laying on your bed, flat on her stomach, supporting herself on her elbows. Her eyes were practically twinkling with curiosity. It was the end of your first week and the two of you were cooped up in your room, eating chips straight out of the bag with a sappy soundtrack playing in the background. With a sigh, you lifted your gaze from the toenail you were painting. You could tell the curiosity as to why Stiles and you had been avoiding each other like the plague was eating Kira alive.

“It’s…” you began, searching for the right words to describe the situation. You really wanted to tell Kira about Stiles but where would you even begin? It wasn’t as simple as just ‘we had a fight two years ago’. There was so much more to it. Explaining it all would take time, and a lot of energy. It would mean having to tap into old feelings, insecurities and heartaches and you just weren’t sure you could deal with that right now. “Complicated?” Kira asked, interrupting your train of thought. Your lips curved into a soft smile. “Something like that”   Kira let out a breath and rolled over on her back. “Yeah, I’d know a thing or two about that” “Oh?” you questioned, pulling your knees up to your chest. “It’s Scott” she exhaled loudly. “I don’t really know where we stand” You nodded thoughtfully. You’d sensed that there was something between Kira and Scott. They’d get… mushy when they were around each other. Kira would get all flushed and Scott’s gaze would always linger just a little too long in her direction. “I mean not that we’re…we’re not dating or anything, or I mean, I don’t know if we are… it’s all confusing and when we’re talking” Kira stammered. “Hey” you interrupted calmly “Don’t worry, I get it” Kira let out a breath of relief and rolled over on her stomach again. Her eyes met yours and she curved her lips into at silent conclusion. “Complicated” You nodded in conformation, your smile mimicking hers. “Complicated” [ :: ]

“Uh… Apparently there’s a party going on” Kira exclaimed in the middle of the romcom you were watching. She angled her phone towards you so you could read the words on the illuminated screen.

From: Scott Received 9.42 pm. Hey I know it’s late but there’s a party at Danny’s. You coming?

You lifted you gaze to meet Kira’s. “You wanna…go?” she questioned slowly, biting down on her lip. You knew she wanted to; her body language practically scream it. You suspected it had something to do with the opportunity to be close to Scott. “Uh...” you made an indifferent gesture with your hand. “yeah sure” you said with a pressed smile. Truth was you’d rather stay home. You wouldn’t really know anyone at the party except for Kira and you really didn’t want to be third wheeling it with her and Scott, especially if they were trying to figure out their “are we or aren’t we” situation. So while they did that, you’d probably end up squeezed in on a couch between some passed out kid and a couple making out. Great. Kira must have sensed your unwillingness because she suddenly got up on her knees. “I mean-“ her voice was anxious “we don’t have to! Seriously! I love what we’re doing…” she stressed. You felt bad. If Kira had the chance to… evolve or clarify her feelings for Scott, you didn’t want to be the one to stand in her way. “Kira” you began with a calm smile. “It’s fine, I want to go” Her entire face lit up in a smile. “Really!? Cool” she jumped off the bed and started pacing like she didn’t know where to start or what to do. “Wait” she suddenly said, her smile fading. “I don’t really…”. She looked down at her leggings and zipped hoodie. “Don’t worry” you grinned “I got you”

[ :: ]

Stiles POV

It was crazy how often he thought of her. He wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. It wasn’t as simple as just walking up to her and going ‘hey sorry for being a dick two years ago’. He needed to show her he meant it but how was he supposed to do that when he could barely even look at her without the guilt taking over. Hell, just being near her fucked him up. His hands would get sweaty, his pulse would rise, and his ability to get out a coherent sentence would momentarily non-exist.

Once again, Stiles eyes searched the crowded room hoping to catch even a glimpse of Y/N, but she was nowhere to be seen. All he could see was a bunch of kids playing beer bong over a trashed kitchen table, a guy from the team puking in a corner while his friend filmed it with their phones and a girl from English making out with a guy who wasn’t her boyfriend.

“She left ten minutes ago” a familiar voice declared. Scott appeared beside him, red solo cup in hand. Stiles considered playing dumb but knew there was no point. Scott was his best friend and brother; he didn’t have to be inside his head to know what he was thinking. Besides, he’d been picking up on his emotions all week. “I’m not sure she wants to talk to me” Stiles answered truthfully “Wouldn’t be so sure of it, man” Stiles let out a deep sigh. “I wouldn’t even know what to say” Scott curved his lips into a crooked grin.

“Then figure it out”

[ .. ]

Y/N POV You’d convinced Kira to stay at the party. Not that it took a lot of effort. Scott and her had been talking non-stop ever since the two of you walked through the door. You on the other hand had been hit on by some drunk guy in a Hawaii shirt, offered molly from a girl who looked like she went to Sunday school and had your favorite top ruined by a freshman with shaky hands. He’d apologized and offered to have it dry-cleaned but everyone knew beer stains were textile hell, even for professionals.

Slipping into a pair of printed sweat shorts and a hoodie, you tied your hair into a messy bun and made your way to the kitchen. You hadn’t eaten anything besides the bag of chips you’d shared with Kira. You’d planned on ordering pizza but got to busy getting ready for the party.

Raiding through the fridge you realized pretty quickly your parents hadn’t stocked the fridge before leaving for their “healing retreat” this weekend. It was some stupid trip their therapist had advised them to take every month to “heal the hole” in their marriage.

Closing the fridge, you grabbed a box of cereal with way too much sugar and made your way over to the couch. Taking a few seconds to flip through the different titles on Netflix, you ultimately settled on some new original series and watched passively while digging your hand into the box.

Getting back up, you were just about to grab something to drink when there was a knock on the door.

Shit.

Shit

Shit.

What the hell was Stiles doing here?

Full of panic, you stood in the hallway like a moron, chewing the mouth full of sugary flakes you’d stuffed your face with only seconds earlier. Why. WHY did he have to show up the one night you’d chosen to wear the shorts with fricken mermaids and seashells on them!? For a moment you considered pretending not to be home but realized pretty quickly that you couldn’t. The lights were on and your car was in the driveway. Besides, a part of you was kind of curious as to why he was at you house 11 p.m. on a Friday night when there was a party going on. 

Running your hand over your mouth, you sure to get rid of any crumbs or powdered sugar before opening the door.

“Y/N!” Stiles exclaimed, almost surprised. He’d been running a hand anxiously through his hair but moved it towards you when you appeared in the doorway. “You’re…You’re here” You furrowed your brow; you were determined to act cool even though there was a storm of emotions raging inside you. “Yeah… I kind of live here” you said, going to fold your arms over your chest only to realize you were still holding the cereal box in your hand. Sigh. For once. Could someone give you a goddamn break

Stiles shifted his gaze and started flexing and unflexing his hands. “yeah, no, course” he cleared his throat. There was a moment of silence between you.

“so, you’re uh… probably wondering why I am here” Stiles said with a nervous chuckle. You nodded slightly; lips pressed together. You still couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few seconds.

Stiles cleared his throat again. Seems his plan of action only stretched as far as showing up at your house. “Yeah, so I came to say that…are you… eating that out of the box?” Stiles asked, nodding towards the cereal. “Yeah, so?” you asked defensively. “It’s dry” “I happen to not like milk” Stiles furrowed his brow. “What? You used to love milk? You literally drank like half a gallon when Melissa baked those fudge cookies for Scotts twelfth birthday” You remembered that party. You and Stiles were the only ones that came.

“Please, it was hardly half a gallon and I only drank it” you began, suddenly lowering your tone to a whisper “because those cookies were dry” You were acting as if Melissa was around the corner at risk of hearing you bash her baking skills.

“They were well-baked” Stiles whispered back. “More like burnt. They were literally black Stiles” For a moment it was like the two of you were kids again, sitting in Stiles room, discussing which superhero was the strongest. Stiles eyes searched yours and for the first time since seeing each other again, none of you looked away. “I’m sorry” Stiles mumbled softly. It was strange, and insanely cliché, but something inside you seemed to happen when he uttered those words. You wouldn’t call it heal but it was definitely along those lines.

“For what?”

The muscles in Stile’s jaw flexed. “everything” You looked down for a moment. Stile’s voice was low, and you could tell by his tone that he was being genuine. “I didn’t mean it” he continued. “I was mad, and…” he threw up a hand before letting it fall again “I snapped. I shouldn’t have but I did. But none of it meant anything”. “It’s fine, I get it. I shouldn’t have said those things about Lydia..especially since the two of actually....” For a moment it looked like Stiles had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. “Oh” he said as the realization hit. “Oh no, no me and Lydia aren’t... we’re friends. No, you were right about us” He paused for a moment. “My feelings, what I felt for Lydia...It wasn’t-” he searched for the right words. “Real. I made this, I had this idea of who she, of who I...” he shook his head. “anyway it doesn’t matter. What does though is that I never should have said the things I did. I ruined everything and...” He looked at you with such an intensity you wanted to look away but forced yourself not to. 

“I’m sorry” You leaned your body against the doorframe. You hadn’t realized how much you’d craved an apology until you got one. Suddenly it was like your hurt and anger didn’t matter as much as it used to. Perhaps it was the raging crush or mere wishful thinking, but you believed him. Believed him when he said he hadn’t mean it. A part of you must have always known, or at least hoped, that your friendship had been to real to not have meant something to him.

Your tone was low and soft. “It’s okay”

Stiles shook his head. “No, it’s not. But I’m going to make it up to you. I’ll do...”

You had a feeling the sentence was going to end with something along the lines of ‘I’ll do anything to fix our friendship’ or something equally as cheesy and you had to stop him. Not because it would be awkward as hell but because he needed to know you still had a crush on him and that being friends probably wasn’t the right way to go. You wish you could handle a friendship, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t be around with him without being with him. Your heart ached for him and knowing he didn’t want you in the same way you wanted him made it impossible to be near him. 

“Stiles…” you began, creasing your forehead. “I don’t think we can be friends” Your words clearly took him by surprise. “What? Why? Is it because?... I mean is it because of what I said? I swear, I really didn’t…” “It’s because I’m still love with you” you blurted. There was a moment of instant regret and you could feel every fiber of your body wanting to slam the door in his face, dive into bed and hide under the covers for the next few years.

Stiles stood there looking at you for what felt like hours. You sucked in a breath, feeling the panic in your chest “So… yeah that’s why and…”. Warm hands found their way to your cheeks and before you had a chance to finish your sentence, Stiles had pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours. It took a few seconds but when you were finally able to wrap your head around what was happening, a rush of ecstasy ran through you and you eagerly kissed him back. 

“Stiles” you whispered after a while. You didn’t want to end the kiss but knew you had to. Stiles, however seemed to have other plans and started trailing his lips down your jaw down to your neck. 

“Stiles, I’m literally standing on my front porch, dressed in mermaid shorts, holding a box of Frosties”

With a laugh Stiles pulled back. “Yeah, I meant to comment on those mermaids” he said. Rolling your eyes, you turned around to walk back into the house.   Stiles arms instantly found their way to your waist and he pressed you to him as he walked behind you. “What? I was going to say there are very fashional” “It’s fashionable, and I know” you said, not being able to hold back your smile. It was insane.

Seems like the two of you were finally the right people at the right time. 

Taglist: @loulouloueh

[misslilli]

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 15 - Siblings And Secret Sting Operations

[ DS ]

Sundays are reserved for church and phone calls with my family, so after mass and the church brunch, I make myself a cup of tea and grab my blanket, heading upstairs to curl up on the Adirondack chair on my private balcony. I take out my phone and call my brother Charlie.

He picks up on the second ring. “City morgue. You kill ‘em, we chill ‘em!” I almost choke on my sip of tea.

“Hey Charlie! That’s a new one, very funny. Almost killed me with it!”

“Aah killing with jokes is my specialty. Sorry sis! How’s it going over there on the main land?”

“We mere mortals manage to get by, always a little in awe of the Gods of the Cape. Hey can you see me?” I get up and wave across the bay to where I can picture him standing in front of his little cottage, waving back.

“I deign to gaze at the mere mortal waving like a crazy person, yeah! So what’s new with you?”

“Nothing much, busy with school, the usual. How about you? How’s Pete? Did he get the promotion?” I can hear the smile in his voice at the mention of his boyfriend.

“Yeah he did, I’m insanely proud of the big-shot broker that I call mine!” Against all odds, they make a pretty great couple, the artist and the stock broker. “So, speaking of… how’s your love life? Seeing anyone?” He always asks me this and the answer’s pretty much the same every time, but today, I surprise him.

“Mhh yeah, there’s someone…” The gasp he gives is so loud, it almost carries across the bay.

“Shut up! What? Who? When? Are you really seeing someone?”

“No… not exactly. But… there is the dream of someone else….” I sigh into the phone, smiling at the mental image of Fox Mulder that pops into my head.

“You’re kidding. Who is he?” As I recount the moments that happened between the two of us, Charlie is practically jumping with glee.

“God, that’s so great, sis! So, what happens now? Why are you pining for him from afar instead of putting on the big-girl pants and ask him out on a date?” I shake my head.

“You know why, Charlie. I’m really scared I’ll screw this up and the fact that I care about his kid so much makes it even more difficult. Oh God, and can you imagine what Dad will have to say about him being divorced and a single parent?” Charlie groans into the phone in frustration.

“Not this again, Dana. You can’t live your life the way you think will get you dad’s stamp of approval, you deserve to be happy and from the sound of it, you’re pretty excited about this guy. I can tell you from experience, if I had chosen to chase dad’s approval, I’d still be so deep in the closet I’d need a map and a compass to find my way out. So, your other concerns are valid but you’ll never find out if he’s the one if you don’t try!”

“I know, I know, you’re right, just like you were right the other thousand times we’ve had this conversation. What am I supposed to do, just walk up to him and ask him on a date? I can’t do that!” The thought alone sends a cold shiver down my spine.

“YES Dana, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do! We’re living in the 21st century, we’re not playing this stupid game where a boy has to ask a girl out, it’s okay if it’s the other way around!” I hang my head and sigh in resignation, he’s right, as always. I want to hate him a little for it.

“Alright, I’ll think about it, happy?” – “Overjoyed! So let me tell you about that art show that I’m putting on at the gallery!”

We chat for a little while longer, waving at each other again as we say our goodbyes.

----------

In the meantime, downstairs in the kitchen

The three other girls are sitting around the kitchen table having a very late breakfast, the smell of coffee and pancakes filling the house. They speak in hushed tones, not wanting to be overheard by the fourth friend upstairs.

“Girls … This Mr.Mulder- Dana situation is killing me. I just can’t take it anymore, they’re pining for each other so hard but they’re both too chicken to do something about it!”

“What are you saying, S?” Alex blows a cooling breath over her coffee cup.

“I’m saying that these two need a hefty kick in the butt!”

“Ooooh I get it now!” Holly bounces in her seat excitedly. “We’ll be the trusty matchmakers for these love-birds!”

“The two of you are out of your minds. She’ll see right through it, you know she will! We’ve talked about it with her Friday after Friday but nothing has happened! And he’s not making a move either.”

“Yeah… we can’t just go up to him and ask him if he’s blind or stupid or both and tell him that he should get his ass in gear and ask her out already!” Sarah spears a piece of pancake with her fork, twirling it thoughtfully.

“What if we enlist the help of his kid?”

“Holly, no, we can’t do that! He’s six for god’s sakes. Besides, I think they have another thing coming with him when they actually dostart dating. You know how kids lash out when their parent starts dating again, and he loves D to pieces. No, we need a more subtle plan.”

“How about we spike her drink at the birthday party with some hard stuff? You know, lower the inhibitions and all that” Sarah waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

Holly gapes at her friend. “Sarah! We can’t drug our friend into sleeping with him! It’s not right and she’ll have our heads for it if she ever found out, rightfully so! What about the Halloween fair, they’re both working there, but D doesn’t know that he got roped into it?”

Realization dawns in Sarah’s eyes and her mind works out a plan. The other two nod enthusiastically when she tells them about it.

“Oh this is so exciting! We need to talk to Miss Hannigan and some other people but I think it’s a good start to push them closer together! Now that we’ve got a plan, we just need to figure out how to keep it all from D. We live together, so she’s bound to overhear us talking about it at some point.” Holly and Alex nod in unison.

“We’ll go all secret sting operation on their ass, codenames and all. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

“Codenames, S?”

“Yes codenames, come on it’ll be so much fun, like a secret society, Illuminati-style!”

Alex laughs: “Alright, what are our codenames for these two?”

They all think hard about this. “Well their real names are out, of course. Middle names too. Red and brown?” – “No, hair color’s too obvious, A!” – “Mom and Dad?” They share a laugh, shaking their heads. “That’s weird. Can we do something with the first letters of their names? F and D? S and M?” Holly bursts out giggling. “Okay maybe not S and M! … M and S? Can we do something with that?”

A slow smile spreads over Sarah’s face. “I’ve got it! A thunder of jets in an open sky, a streak of grey and a cheerful “HI!” – BOOM - a loop, a whirl and a vertical climb and once again you’ll know it’s time for the adventures oooof…?”

Holly jumps out of her chair and yells out excitedly: “Moose and Squirrel! Sarah that’s brilliant!!” Alex nods her agreement, grinning.

“We’ll call it Operation: Bullwinkle!”

“Man, Squirrel’s so gonna kick our asses…”

[lovelucybradford]

I Pretend You’re Mine~Three

A/N: Thank you again, so much, for your kind and encouraging comments. It makes me so happy that you’re enjoying this.

Trigger warning: Rosalie has plane accident anxiety, gets high off of Dramamine, and wants to fight some hoes

Masterlist

And without further ado, I present to you...

Chapter Three: I Get Drunk On Jealousy

Rosalie had never been a good sleeper on the night before a vacation. Normally, she would spend the hours tossing and turning in bed, her mind whirring with anticipation at the upcoming events or thinking of the impending doom of a plane flight. Last night followed the same predictable pattern: lie awake counting the ruffles in the popcorn ceiling, think about planes falling out of the sky, roll over, curl into ball, think about something else to ease the anxiety...

Save for one difference--an earlier conversation with Laura played in Rose’s head over and over like a drive-in showing of the newest heart-pounding flick.

 “You haven’t seen my idiot brother, have you?” Laura muttered as soon as Rosalie opened the door, suspicious eyes scanning the apartment in search of a hiding Derek. She didn’t wait for Rose’s reply and walked into the living room, plopping down on the sofa.

“Well, hello to you, too. Not that you’re not always welcome, but what are you doing here? You could have called. And why are you looking for Derek?” Rosalie questioned, resting her hip on the doorframe.

Laura rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “He hasn’t been home in days, he missed family dinner Sunday night, he won’t answer texts or calls. I think he’s hiding from my mother. I—”

“Why would he be hiding from your mother? I mean, for God’s sake, he’s a thirty-year-old man—”

“Can you blame him from hiding? You know what my mom’s like when she’s pissed.”

“Why’s she pissed at Derek? As far as I know, he hasn’t done anything deserving of the wrath of Mama Hale.”

Laura crossed her arms, a signature Hale glare aimed right at Rosalie.

Rose questioned Laura’s unwarranted expression with a glare of her own. “What?”

The scowl etched on Laura’s face just grew further. “You’re honestly going to lie to my face?”

At Rosalie’s clueless expression, Laura sighed, throwing her hands up into the air, “What kind of game are you and Derek playing?”

Rose’s heart began to beat a little faster. Could Laura know about their little white lie? No, she couldn’t have. All joking aside, Rosalie’s friend group had sworn not to tell anyone else. But it wasn’t like they kept in contact with the other Hale siblings to begin with…

Laura stood, grabbing the other woman by the wrist and pulling her to sit, in the teal armchair, across from her.

“Tell me. Whose idiotic idea was it to tell your whackass family that you and Derek are engaged? Yours or his?”

Rosalie’s jaw dropped, but Laura looked unaffected.

“How…how did you find out?” Rose breathed, knowing she was caught red-handed.

“Your father called my mother to congratulate her on having ‘an esteemed Martin daughter’ joining the family—”

“Of course, he did,” Rosalie muttered into her palm.

“—Then asked when you and Derek were planning on officially announcing the engagement.”

Rosalie purposefully stared at the gold buttons that outlined the armchair. One of them was loose. That would have to be fixed. Now that she knew about it, it would drive her nuts. “And… what did Talia say?”

“She said that she’s overjoyed that you’ll be an ‘official’ Hale, and that she’d be sure to pass along his concerns to you. Then, she called my brother to ask why the fuck she just had to lie to Jason Martin and what in the world you two were scheming up.”

That surprised Rosalie. Talia Hale was a woman of great poise; it was rare that she lost her temper. “Wait, she actually dropped the ‘f’ bomb? Why was she so angry? So what, we may have fibbed a little.”

The accent pillow from Rose’s sofa hit her in the face, forcing her to look at Laura. Laura’s lips were pursed, face growing redder with frustration.

“SO WHAT? Good God, you two are the stupidest smart people that I know!”

The condescending tone of her voice caused Rosalie to raise her haunches. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means that this is, by far, the dumbest con you two have come up with. And this beats the night that you and Derek got drunk on his 21st birthday and you dared him to go streaking down Main Street.”

“Why? You don’t think that Derek and I can play a convincing couple? Because I’ll have you know that we both won the Best Thespian award during our respective senior years, even though D—”

Laura stood, exploding. “That’s just it, Rosalie! You’ll both play madly in love very well, too well actually, and I…”

She ran a hand through her brown hair, walking to the window and facing the expanse of city below. Softly, Laura added, “I don’t want to see you two get hurt.”

She sounded so vulnerable, it made Rosalie wonder the reasoning behind those fears. Derek and her, they would never hurt each other. The two friends both cared too much. “And why would you think that?”

Laura whipped around to face Rosalie so quickly that she wondered how her pseudo-sister hadn’t gotten whiplash. “Must I spell it out for you? Obviously, I must. You two have been in love with each other since you were kids.”

No. No. Rosalie had feelings for him (albeit repressed), sure, but they certainly weren’t love. She swore she would never get herself into that mess again. And Derek… no way. Like he could ever love her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I… Derek… we’re not in love.”

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetie. Tell me how denial goes for you. Just don’t come back to me crying when this whole ploy of yours blows up in your face spectacularly.”

Was Laura right? Would this all end in burning flames? That question had ruminated in Rosalie’s head all night long.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!” A slap on the leg jolted Rose wide awake. She looked to her left, finding the culprit grinning in satisfaction as his eyes scanned the road ahead.

Rosalie rolled her eyes, slumping against the passenger door to glare out the window at the streaks of artificial light that came from the surrounding buildings as we passed. “Go to hell, Peter.”

“I’ve been there, sweetie. Feels right at home. And besides, you’re getting to spend a week in paradise. I think you can sacrifice a little sleep.”

“So you woke me up because you’ve got FOMO?”

“You could have gotten a ticket, too. You have enough money,” Lydia chimed in from the back seat. Her voice was low with latent sleep, Lydia not much more alert than Rosalie.

Peter sighed dramatically, always one for fanfare. “No, I could not have. Rosalie’s father’s restraining order still stands… and I’m permanently banned from the state of Hawaii.”

Stiles perked up immediately, elbows leaning on his knees so he could listen in closer. “This is a story I have to hear.”

At the same time, looking to Peter in her peripheral, Rose commented, “You’re lucky you got off that easy. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Stiles reached across Lydia to poke Derek spastically in the bicep.

“What did he do? What did he do?” Stiles questioned Derek like an excited little boy.

Derek groaned. “This fucker commandeered Jason Martin’s yacht and took it for a drunken joyride like he was Jack fucking Sparrow. He went around picking up a bunch of women and partied until the Coast Guard pulled up.”

To himself, Peter muttered, “Boats and hoes.”

Rosalie scowled. “You had to go and call the female cop a dirty wench.”

Peter looked irritated. “Um, excuse me. I may not remember much from that night, but I’m pretty sure my exact words were, ‘Ahoy there, you sexy wench! Give me some of that booty.’”

Stiles laughed hysterically. Rosalie reached around in her seat to smack him on the forehead. “Don’t encourage him!”

Peter shifted the car into park and turned towards the group in the back. “We’re finally here. Now, get the fuck out of my car so I can go back to sleep.”

________________________

  Her pillow was hard—unusually so. She specifically remembered buying the fluffiest one in the store. So why did it feel like she was sleeping against a wall? Rosalie inhaled deeply, the woodsy scent flooding her nostrils. The brick wall smelled amazing. She greedily burrowed further into the pillow. The pillow that was becoming less hard and more… prickly.

The pillow shook slightly, Rosalie’s torso moving along with it. The hazy ring of a laugh resounded amidst the mechanical buzzing of the airplane.

“Are you smelling me?” came a familiar voice. The woman turned her head slightly, only to find that her pillow was not a pillow, and instead was the shoulder of her best friend.

Rosalie smiled happily up at him. “Hey Derek!”

He grinned back, green eyes dancing with amusement. “Hey princess. Sleep well, I assume?”

“Mmm, yeah. So good. The best.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about two hours outside of Orlando. Just a reminder, the fasten seatbelt sign is on. We may run into some turbulence here.”

Rosalie lifted her heavy head from Derek’s shoulder, leaning back fully on the cushion of her seat. Her eyes hazily scanned the encapsulated ceiling. A blast of cold air hit her straight in the face.

“God, is that you?” Rosalie questioned curiously, “Why are you telling me to fasten my seatbelt. I always wear my seatbelt, you know that. I am a responsible driver.”

Derek laughed again. “Holy shit, you’re so high.”

Rosalie smacked her lips, mouth suddenly feeling cotton dry. “I require a beverage.”

Stiles peeked his head over the seat.

Rose stared up at him in awe. “Stiles, you really are a Jedi! You’ve mastered levitation!”

Stiles gave her a weird look. “First you’re saying that you require a ‘beverage’, now you’re thinking that I’m levitating.” His focus turned to scrutinize Derek. “I told you we shouldn’t have given her Dramamine!”

Rose’s body suddenly felt heavy again, so she slumped over and used Derek to support her weight. Derek’s head was stretched all the way up; he was yelling back at Stiles. For what, Rosalie didn’t understand. “Would you rather she spends the whole flight puking her guts out? You know she has motion sickness!”

Rosalie blindly reached a finger up and to her left until she poked Derek in the nose. “Derek. Derek. Der. I need a beverage.”

Derek wrapped his hand around hers and brought their hands down to rest between them. His free hand ran through his hair.

“The drink cart’s coming. It should be here soon.”

Rosalie narrowed her eyes, focusing on Derek’s hair and not his words. The black locks were disheveled, the right side sticking up in a very unattractive manner. She stretched up to pat his hair down.

“Yes, thank you. Ok. The stewardess is coming,” Derek said, clearly not appreciating her fixing.

Rosalie shrugged and went back to lying her head on his shoulder, trying not to inhale when she caught another whiff of cedarwood. Damn, that scent was addicting.

The perky stewardess appeared almost instantly, almost like she was at Derek’s beck and call. She might as well have been, with the way she was looking at him.

The woman was young, likely around Rosalie’s age. She wore a navy blazer over a white button-up shirt, with one too many buttons undone. Even her scarf couldn’t hide that cleavage—eye-drawing cleavage. And it’s like the stewardess knew it, too, with the way that she pulled down her shirt as soon as she stepped in front of the two in the aisle. Her brown eyes scanned Derek hungrily, not an unusual occurrence when it came to Derek Hale.

Intuitively, Rosalie’s blue eyes scanned the hand still in Derek’s for the ring that she was sure she put on this morning, the sapphire that got them into this mess in the first place. Just as Rosalie thought, it was still secured around her left ring finger.

The pretty blonde flight attendant flipped her long hair and smiled brilliantly at Derek.

“How can I help you, sweetheart?” she fawned, voice thick with a southern drawl.

Rose watched her like a hawk. She didn’t like that look, nor the subtle flirting. Not when it was obvious that he was engaged.

Rosalie put on the sweetest smile she could muster in her slowly angering state. “I’d love a ginger ale. Thank you.”

The stewardess didn’t even look at Rosalie as she spoke; she was still smiling brightly at Derek.

“Would you like a champagne? It’s on the house, for a pretty face like yours.”

Rosalie’s blood boiled at the woman’s blatant flirting with her fiancé. It sobered Rosalie immensely. She raised her head from Derek’s shoulder, moving their joined hands to her lap where the sapphire ring would be obvious.

The flight attendant’s gaze grazed briefly to Rosalie’s hand. It was as if she was unfazed.

Rosalie’s brows stretched tightly upward as she channeled Big Hale Energy to the best of her ability. The words came flying out of her mouth before she could really even think them through. She was beyond pissed.

 “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and say that you’re just too stupid to see the ring on my finger. Because I highly doubt that American Airlines would appreciate one of their employees whoring it up for someone else’s fiancé.”

The look on the woman’s face was priceless. Finally, Rosalie got a reaction on that steely, perfect face of hers, one that reminded Rose eerily of her stepsister, Ashleigh. The other woman’s jaw dropped, noisily gasping for breath.

The gasps echoed across the cabin. Derek’s hand stiffened in Rose’s.

“I am so sorry. We gave her some Dramamine to get on the plane, and she gets a little… feisty. If we could have the ginger ale, that would be great. Thanks,” Derek croaked, swiftly pulling his hand away to pull out his wallet from his back pocket. He handed the woman a five-dollar bill with an apologetic smile.

Rosalie looked at him, flabbergasted.

Derek stared right back at her, one brow raised in challenge.

“Do you want to get kicked off this plane?!” He hissed.

Stiles poked his head up again, whistling loudly. “Not even there yet, and you’re already playing the jealous fiancée. Damn, Rose. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Lydia yanked him back down into his seat as the flight attendant stiffly appeared with Rosalie’s ginger ale and a bottle of water for Lydia. Rose didn’t look at her as she accepted the plastic cup. Instead, she stared at her tanned legs. The stewardess’ high heels clicked as she stomped back up towards the front of the cabin.

In the clear, Rosalie brought the cup to her dry lips to take a much-needed drink. Lydia reached one hand through the gap between Derek and Rosalie’s seats, grabbing Rose’s elbow before she could let the liquid into her mouth.

“Don’t drink that!” Lydia exclaimed hastily.

Rose put the drink down on Derek’s open tray table and turned to peek through the gap. She could see a fraction of Lydia’s face. From what she could see, Lydia looked irritated.

“She probably spit in it, Rosalie.”

Rose scoffed at the suggestion. “What? She was the one who was hitting on a taken man! What am I supposed to do?”

Derek shoved a half-drank bottle of Aquafina from his carry-on into her lap. “Just shut up and drink this.”

She removed her face from the gap to look at Derek apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t react, just kept on glaring at the tray table.

Rosalie changed defense tactics, smiling at him with all teeth bared like a guilty child. “I’m sorry. I love you, Der Bear.”

Just as predicted, his green eyes shot to her blue ones. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “You better. I forgive you.”

Success. Rosalie’s lips curled upwards in satisfaction.

Derek held up a finger in front of her face. “On one condition. You never call me Der Bear again.”

His comment had Rosalie cackling loudly, drawing more unwanted attention to herself for the second time on the flight.

______________________________________________________________

Tags:

@empath-bunny

@ityagirljay​

@wolfarrowepz​

[acklesforlife]

Happy Birthday Danneel Ackles!

It’s Danneel Ackles’ birthday, so we thought for our continuing celebration of Supernatural Spring Break week, this was a good time to both wish her a happy birthday and share the rather amusing story of one of our first times meeting her.

There have been a few memorable times since, including the party celebrating ‘Supernatural Day’ in Austin with Mayor Adler, which was just plain fun and an opportunity for some real conversation.

And I’ll be forever touched that Danneel wanted a copy of Family Don’t End With Blood (and how incredulous she was that Jensen actually had a chapter in it!) and that she has read our other books too.

The actual first time we met Danneel was a long time ago – at the after party following the premiere of indie movie Ten Inch Hero, which was at a club in LA back in, I think 2008. We all left the premiere and walked over to the club, invited by director David Mackay – the cast and the audience all together.

We had a lovely little chat with Danneel there about the film, met screenwriter Betsy Morris who’s still a friend today, and asked actor Matt Barr (now of Walker) to watch the rest room door while I in desperation used the men’s room because there was a huge line at the women’s. (He was lovely about it and it makes me laugh now every time I see him as Hoyt).

It was a momentous party, what can I say?  After that, my co-author Kathy and I interviewed David over a three hour brunch in Vancouver for the first book we were working on, and mentioned that we’d love to chat with Danneel  too. To be honest, we didn’t really think that would happen. But a few months later, while we were in LA for the Supernatural convention, we got a call from David.

I’ll let some excerpts from our second book, Fangasm! Supernatural Fangirls, take it from here…

… he let us know that Danneel Harris had actually agreed to an interview too. This prompted some hyperventilating and a rush of euphoria that left us grinning like fools. Jensen Ackles’s girlfriend was going to meet with us? Really? David had given Lynn’s cell phone number to Danneel so that she could call us tomorrow, the same day the boys came back to town. SWEET.

Given the pattern of the weekend so far—great things happening and then going horribly wrong—we should have known what was coming.

[On the Sunday of the convention, while everyone was in a fever pitch of excitement over Jared and Jensen being there] Lynn was obsessively checking her phone. “Noooo!!” she gasped. It was the plaintive moan of a beast in distress.

Kathy assumed that Lynn was passing a gallstone from the sound of it.

“No reception!” Lynn said, wide-eyed.

For Kathy, who hates phones (really, what doesn’t Kathy hate?) this didn’t seem like a big deal. The world really is too connected anyway. An hour out of cell phone reception seemed like a welcome respite, an opportunity just to enjoy the moment.

Lynn wasn’t as philosophical. “What if Danneel calls?”

Kathy honestly didn’t hold out much hope that this would actually happen—a yellow on the threat scale at most—so she wasn’t concerned.

Lynn was taking up her slack by flailing around, banging buttons on her phone as if somehow this would jolt it into action. “How can there be no cell phone reception in LA??”

Lynn had a point. We’re reasonably certain that there is cell phone reception in the Arctic Circle, but there was not a bar to be had in a hotel in LA. LA!! The town where everyone’s people are calling everyone else’s people, where iPhones are accessorized to coordinate with the day’s outfits, where a missed call can ruin a career. Jared and Jensen distracted Lynn for the duration of their time onstage, but as soon as it was over Lynn made a bee line for Jared’s girlfriend, Sandy (the woman sitting in front, wearing a hoodie so no one would recognize her—except Lynn apparently). Lynn wildly explained our dilemma to the stunned and probably scared actress. It was a good thing the Men With No Necks (MWNN) were only being paid to guard “the boys” or Lynn would have been face down on the carpet.

While Lynn was doing this, Kathy was pretending that she did not know Lynn.

Sandy was sympathetic, but didn’t know if she’d even see Danneel. Lynn thanked her for the sympathy and moved on to the next person who might be able to help. She attempted to enlist convention photographer Lizz, to no avail, and finally Creation owner Adam.

“I’ll try Lynn,” he said, sounding slightly exasperated. “But I’m kinda running an entire convention here.”

Thwarted again, Lynn pulled out all the stops. During her Jensen photo op, she stopped everything to explain the situation to Jensen himself.

“Hi, Jensen,” Lynn said, hoping that her voice wasn’t sounding too shaky. “We have an interview set up with Danneel today for the book we’re writing on fandom, and she’s supposed to call us, but I don’t have any reception on my phone, so I’m afraid she won’t be able to.”

The photo-op process screeched to a halt, and the room fell silent. Photo ops, you see, are not a place for conversation. They are highly valued by fans, who pay top dollar for the privilege of standing next to a celebrity, and they are relentlessly organized. The entire experience lasts about twenty seconds, and during that time you’re expected to say hello to the celebrity, smile, perhaps get an arm around your back or lean into said celebrity’s very firm bicep, and then move the hell out of the way and let the next person crowd in for the next picture. The photo ops allow no room for deviation. So when deviation happens, no one is very happy. The photographer wasn’t happy. The other fans weren’t happy. And the MWNN looked ready to move into swift and potentially lethal action.

Not that any of this stopped Lynn. “Can you put us in touch with her?” she continued, oblivious to the threatening stares all around her.

“Oh right, the interview,” Jensen said.

Lynn just nodded, though inside she was stuck on “OMG Jensen knows about our interview and our book, ohmygodohmygod.”

“Maybe she can email you,” Jensen continued. Then the conversation abruptly ended as Lynn was grabbed unceremoniously by the back of the neck and “escorted” from the photo-op room. Uh oh. She hadn’t experienced that feeling since being a two-year-old caught trying to get away with her baby brother’s coveted teddy bear. Lynn was most definitely in trouble—and even worse, she’d made no progress in getting in touch with Danneel, who didn’t even have our email address!

Lynn, ever the intrepid researcher, was not deterred. She thanked the Man with No Neck for his assistance and got right back in line for her next photo op, the “sandwich” photo (as in sandwiched between Jared and Jensen, which is vaguely dirty and thus very popular). As Lynn walked up, Jensen immediately tried to continue their conversation.

“So do you want to . . .” he began, while Jared looked confused. After all, the celebrities know the no talking rule as well as the fans.

Lynn held up a hand defensively. “Shh, I’m not talking to you. I totally got in trouble for it before,” she added, as the MWNN hovered threateningly.

Jensen laughed. “I got in trouble too,” he protested.

We doubt the MWNN were involved.

“Can Danneel get us her email?” Lynn managed as she was once again “encouraged” to leave the room as quickly as possible.

There was no time for an answer. Damn. Thwarted again. We were disappointed, but Lynn was relieved that she wasn’t escorted out of the entire con (the specter of the Flying Fangirl from Asylum still looms large at these events after all). We were still feeling like an interview with Danneel had been too good to be true anyway, so we tried to swallow our sadness and settled in to watch some of the other guests. Midway through the next panel, Lizz the photographer came out into the audience and passed us a note—from Danneel. It just said, “Send me an email, love danneel” and included her email address. Being a bit clueless about the popularity of smartphones in 2008, we figured this meant that she wanted us to get in touch with her later for an email interview. We were disappointed that we wouldn’t get to talk to her in person but incredibly excited that she’d given us her email address. We wandered back outside after the panel and tried not to be too miserable about the Danneel interview not happening that day. We were hanging out in the hallway chatting when photographer Lizz suddenly appeared and yanked us away in the middle of a sentence with an exasperated, “Come with me!” She led us down a small side hall.

We still weren’t entirely sure what was going on. Were we in trouble again? Had the MWNN decided to kick us out after all? Moments later, Danneel emerged from the side door, introducing herself with a smile. Somehow we managed to compose ourselves and smile back. Apparently Jensen had facilitated the interview after all! Danneel suggested that we all grab some coffee, so we headed upstairs to the hotel’s Starbucks, where Danneel insisted on treating.

Coffee in hand, we went back downstairs to start the interview. Danneel suggested that we go backstage to talk, and then came a weirdly symbolic moment. The very same Man with No Neck who had tossed Lynn unceremoniously out of the photo op for daring to speak to the talent now held back the curtain to the backstage area, solicitously helped Danneel and us step over the various wires and cables snaking across the floor, then closed the curtain behind us to seal our crossover. The irony wasn’t lost on us.

Kathy whipped out her trusty voice recorder just as she had done for every other interview we’ve conducted, turned it on, and . . . nothing. We were interviewing Jensen Ackles’s girlfriend and there was NOTHING. It wasn’t the batteries, which had been checked and rechecked. Kathy tried to maintain some semblance of professionalism. She would quietly figure out what was wrong and then she would just as quietly fix it. Deep breaths. Okay, the recorder was FULL. Not to worry. She excused herself, leaving a confused Lynn to entertain Danneel.

First the cell phone, now the voice recorder. Sunday turned out to be the day technology failed us. This, for Lynn, is an everyday occurrence. For Kathy not so much. She loves technology. She embraced the Internet years before it got pretty, she used a “portable” PC to write her doctoral dissertation (portability is of course a relative designation—relative to muscle mass and stamina), and she gets gleeful over the prospect of using every new toy her university has to offer. So yes, technology was her friend. Until it wasn’t.

While Kathy dashed upstairs to grab her laptop (wishing that she could grab a shot of tequila), Lynn attempted to keep up a conversation with Danneel without actually asking any of our carefully prepared interview questions. Without a recorder, there was no way she’d remember a damn thing that was said—so that left small talk as the only option. Luckily, Danneel and Lynn connected over their mutual love of writing, swapped college stories, and then Lynn (as always) managed to talk about her children. Danneel proved herself a great listener. Minutes went by—lots of them—and Lynn realized to her horror that Jensen and Jared were almost done with their autographs. After that, it was off to the airport—and we would lose our interviewee to her boyfriend as she left with Ackles. Where was Kathy???

Finally, shortly before Lynn had moved on to telling Danneel about her daughter’s first steps, Kathy returned and hurriedly tried to download everything onto the laptop while time quickly ran out. Come on!! All Kathy could focus on was how long it was taking for everything to download. That and the rising nausea that threatened to overtake her. Lynn, in desperation, started asking the interview questions (which, since they weren’t recorded, are lost to posterity—and to this book).

Suddenly Jared Padalecki walked by, meaning that autographs were over and people were getting ready to leave. We despaired of a recorded interview, heartbroken over the squandered opportunity. And then, quite unexpectedly, Jensen Ackles was standing there, smiling and saying hello. Even more improbably, he held a fluffy white dog in his arms. For a moment, Kathy was sure this was all part of the nightmare, because fandom at the time had no clue that Jensen even owned a dog. Icarus, however, was quite real—and quite fluffy. Icarus was almost as excited to see Jensen as we were—he’d apparently been whining backstage every time he heard his owner’s voice during the Q&A. We hugged Icarus while Jensen hugged Danneel and tried to talk her into riding with him to the airport. All Kathy heard in those words were that it was too late—she’d blown it.

Danneel, however, had other ideas. She blew Jensen off. No wait. This part can’t really be happening either. More of that dream? Kathy was contemplating poking herself with a sharp object, sticking her finger in a wall socket, anything to jar herself back into reality. This was surely just her own anxiety-ridden psyche toying with her. Must be. Who says goodbye to Jensen Ackles so that she can talk to US?? But Danneel really was excusing herself to say good-bye to Jensen, Icarus happily following, with assurances to us that she’d be right back to finish the interview. Kathy gathered together the few shreds of sanity she still had, sorted the problem, and figured out how to record directly onto the laptop.

Danneel returned, true to her word, and the interview finally began. We relocated to the “green room,” the cloistered room where the guests are confined between stage appearances. The green room, as we were well aware, is a private space—more or less a “No Fans Allowed” clubhouse for the celebrities. We immediately felt like imposters, occupying a space where we clearly shouldn’t be. The room offered a small banquet of food, a bit of which we gratefully sampled, and a table stacked full of fans’ gifts for “the boys.” The coolest of these was a hairdryer that looked exactly like Dean Winchester’s favorite gun—and yes, it actually worked!

Danneel, of course, was quite comfortable in the green room and turned out to be very good at making us comfortable as well. Lynn asked questions. Danneel answered. Kathy breathed. Everything was going to work out just fine. Somewhere the unicorns of fandom were neighing happily.

And then the laptop went dead.

Kathy again tried to be unobtrusive as she flailed around trying to find an outlet. No point in making a bigger fool of herself, right? Sooner or later, though, it became apparent that she was in need of assistance and everyone, including Danneel, was up and scouting for an outlet, crawling under tables and moving furniture to do so. Danneel, we decided, had the patience of a saint. She never lost her sense of humor either, shrugging off our apology for keeping her from accompanying Jensen to the airport by wryly noting that “Jared would have been in the limo anyway, it’s not like we could have made out on the way to the airport” and jumping up to knock on wood when we asked her about the possibility of marriage.

In the midst of all the sitcom mishaps we did manage to carry on an interview…

You can read the rest of our misadventures (and the interview itself) with Danneel in the book, but Kathy and I left that day with a respect and affection for Danneel that has never faded.

Jensen posted a photo of her plunging a clogged toilet today for her birthday, and I laughed because it makes it clear that she’s still as genuine as she was that day she got down on the floor and crawled around looking for an outlet right along with us.

I’ve had the opportunity to chat with Danneel several times since our hilarious interview, and I think most people who have run into her at the brewery would say this too – she’s not afraid to be real.

I’m so glad Danneel was able to be part of Supernatural as a cast member before it ended, but really she’s always been part of the SPN Family. Happy birthday, Danneel – thanks for keeping it real!

–Lynn

Source: [x]

[atlafan]

love take it slow, would you be willing to write something about you telling harry that you want him to meet your kid? and maybe the night ends with some smut🥺👀

a/n: this has been in my inbox for awhile, let’s see how this goes...Harry is 35 in this, and y/n is 32. This also turned into pure fluff, sorry no smut! 

The Kids Are Alright

You and Harry had been dating for a couple of months. It was nice having a man in your life again. Your divorce was ugly, to say the least. You had full custody of your kids, and it took over a year before you could make it so. You were finally in a place of stability that allowed you to start dating again.

You had met Harry completely by accident. He saw you struggling one morning on your walk to work. It had started pouring out of nowhere, and you had no umbrella. After just about everything fell out of your purse, he rushed over to you, holding his umbrella above the both of you and helped you with your things. He gave you his umbrella. He said you were dressed much nicer than he was, and you needed it more. You exchanged information after you insisted you get it back to him. The rest progressed from there. You hadn’t told Harry about your ex-husband or your two children. Although, he had his suspicions. You could only go out with him on Friday and Saturday nights, and you never stayed over at his place. 

You needed to make sure you could trust him before even thinking of telling him you had two kids, before you could even think about bringing him around to meet them. Harry just figured you were really busy, or that you had needy clients since you were a therapist. He was busy in his own right since he was an oral surgeon. 

Saturday night had become a regular date night for the two of you, and your kids were happy to see you so happy. They didn’t much care for their father, for good reason. 

“So, when do we get to have date night with this guy?” Your ten year old daughter asks you as she watches you put your jewelry on. 

“I’ve only been seeing him for a couple of months, Candace. It’s too soon for him to meet you and Ben.” You sigh and look at her. “In fact, tonight I’m finally telling him that I have kids.”

“Wait, you never told him about us?”

“No...I didn’t know if he’d run for the hills. I mean, he’s thirty-five, never been married and doesn’t have kids of his own. What if he doesn’t want that for himself?”

“How do you know he doesn’t have kids, he could be lying just like you.” She crosses her arms.

“I haven’t been lying...it just hasn’t come up. You’ll understand some day when you’re older.”

“That’s been your answer for a lot of things over the last couple of years.” She huffs and follows you out of the bedroom. 

The babysitter was already there, sitting downstairs with Ben. He had just turned eight a month or so ago. 

“Alright Rita, I should be home around eleven like usual.”

“Okay, have a great time!” 

You give both of your kids a hug and kiss, and out the door you go. You were meeting Harry at a nice Italian place. He was always taking you to nice places, but you didn’t mind. After having such a shit marriage, and a shit husband, you were happy to be pampered a bit. You meet him in the lobby of the restaurant and he greets you with a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, gorgeous.” He gets a good look at you. “How was your day?”

“Good! Ran some errands, you know how Saturdays go.” You smile.

You both are seated and Harry orders a bottle of wine for the table. He looked tired. 

“Long week?”

“Sort of...took out four impacted wisdom teeth yesterday. Poor kid’s gonna be sore for a bit. It was a longer surgery than usual.” He shrugs. “But she’ll be alright. How was your week?”

“Long, had all my usual people, and a couple of newbies. All in all, good sessions. Only went through two boxes of tissues, don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

You both laugh. The wine is brought over for you both, and it’s poured into your glasses. You both order your dinners, and an appetizer. 

“Harry...I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you these last couple of months.”

“Same here, Y/N.” 

“I feel sort of childish asking this, but would you say I’m your girlfriend?” At the ripe age of 32, and having been someone’s wife, the word girlfriend sounded incredibly stupid to you, but here you were. 

“I would.” He smiles. “That’s what I’ve been telling people anyways.”

“Aw, you tell people about me.” 

“Hard not to when you go into work with a hickey on your neck.”

“Oh my god.” You blush. “That one from a couple weeks ago? I’m sorry, I can’t even remember the last time I did that to someone, and-”

“Relax, babe, I’m only teasing.” He places his hand over yours. “Suppose I was goin’ to ask about our status soon too. Nice to know we’re on the same page.” You nod at him. 

Your food is brought over, and it’s delicious. You both enjoy more pleasant conversation. It was nice not having to talk about homework, or whatever else you would talk with other parents about. Although, now that your kids were a little older, you enjoyed the conversations you’d have with them regularly. 

“Care to come back to my place for a bit after dinner? I picked up that cheesecake you like so much for dessert.”

“I’d love that! I’ll follow you there.” 

You drive to Harry’s apartment. Sometimes you wondered why he didn’t just buy a house, but you figured he didn’t need all that space. And he did work a lot, a house would be too much to care of by himself. The home you have now is one you bought only two years ago. You refused to stay in the home where everything went down with your husband. Harry’s place was nice, anyways. Two bedroom, two bath, and plenty of space to spread out. 

You sit down on his couch while he brings more wine over, and a plate with a piece of cheesecake to share. 

“Been looking forward to seein’ yeh all week, you know?”

“That’s sweet of you to say.” You kiss his cheek and take a sip of wine. 

“Would you like to spend the night tonight? I like what we do when we’re doin’ it, but it would also just be nice to have you here to hold onto all night.”

“I can’t do that, I’m sorry.” You sigh and take your phone out. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend the full night with you...”

“So then why do you always leave? Are you allergic to Sunday brunch?” You can’t help but laugh. “I’ve never been able to make you my pancakes. I make really good pancakes.”

“God, my kids love pancakes.” Both of your eyes grow wide when you look at each other.

“Kids?”

“Yes...” You show him a picture of the three of you on your phone. “That’s my daughter, Candace, she’s ten, and that’s Ben, he just turned eight.”

“Ah, so that was the birthday party you had to go to last month.”

“Mhm.” He looks at you.

“Well, they’re really cute.” He chuckles. “A little older than I would’ve expected. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I don’t know, this is all so new. I mean, I’ve been a single mom for nearly four years, you’re the first guy I’ve dated in a long time. And you’re...I mean...do you have secret kids?”

“No.” He laughs. “Never been married either. I’m assuming you have?”

“Yeah...we separated and then divorced. Like I said it was four years ago, and I just only got full custody over my kids a year ago. Their father is a shithead, they didn’t want to be near him. They dreaded every weekend they had to spend with him, and I hated sending him, but legally there wasn’t much I could do. I swear he only fought me on the custody just to spite me. Obviously we were sort of young when I got pregnant with Candace. Everything has worked out, thank god. Luckily I’m good at my job so I keep us afloat. The reason I don’t stay over is because I couldn’t very well ask the sixteen year old girl who babysits for me to watch them all night.” 

“No, I suppose that would be a bit weird.” He smirks. “Got any family nearby? They could always watch ‘em right?”

“Harry.” You roll your eyes and swat a hand at him. “So...it doesn’t freak you out that I’m a mom?”

“Not at all! So, your ex is completely out of the picture?” 

“Completely. He moved across the country, nothing to keep him here now. He sends the kids birthday and holiday cards, that’s about the only contact I allow him to have with them. And to answer your question, my parents only live an hour or so away, and they do visit a good chunk. But I certainly couldn’t ask them to take them for a weekend for the sole reason of staying over at my boyfriend’s house.” 

“No, I guess you’d need a better excuse than that.” He laughs. 

“So how come you’re thirty-five and you never settled down?”

“I put school and work above a lot of things. Think my last serious relationship was nearly three years ago, and she got sick of waitin’ f’me.” He shrugs. “Dated here and there, but I haven’t been anyone’s boyfriend in awhile.”

“But you’d like to be mine?”

“Yeah, I like you a lot.” He smiles. 

“Good, because I like you a lot too.” He cups your cheek in his hand.

“Well, if you’re not spendin’ the night, can I take yeh to the bedroom now so I can at least have some time to just lay with you after.”

“I’d like that.” 

You were piss drunk the first time you had sex with Harry. You couldn’t help it. You hadn’t had sex in a very long time, well other than with your dildo, but that’s besides the point. You weren’t sure if you would feel tight for him, but after about the third time he said it to you, you had to believe him that you were, in fact, plenty tight. 

Sex with him not was a lot less scary. You enjoyed it very much, and so did he. Your bodies just had a way of connecting. It was something you hadn’t had in a very long time.

//

“How was your date Mrs. Y/L/N?”

“Honey, I’ve told you it’s Miss, I’m not a Mrs.”

“Sorry.” 

“It’s alright. And it was good, he’s a good man.” You give her fifty dollars and out she goes. 

The next morning you make pancakes for your kids and they’re far too excited about it. 

“Mum, you haven’t made pancakes in forever, what’s the occasion?” Candace asks, dumping a ton of syrup over them.

“Easy with that! Save some for your brother. And there’s no occasion, I just remembered how much you both like pancakes.” You shrug and sit down between them. 

“Mmm, these are so good mumma, thanks.” Ben says. You loved that he still called you mumma. He was such a love-bug. 

“So, how was your date with the oral surgeon?”

“It was good, honey. He’s actually my boyfriend now.”

“Oh, you’ve made it official?!”

“Mhm.” You smile as you take a bite of your food. “And he didn’t wanna run away when I told him about the two of you.”

“When can we meet him?” Ben asks. 

“I’m not sure...even though I’m his girlfriend now I’d like to wait on that I think. I’d hate to bring someone into your lives and then have it not work out.” 

“Did he say if he had kids or was ever married?” Candace asks.

“He’s never been married, and doesn’t have kids of his own. But he really didn’t seem freaked out about you two. He was more so surprised that you weren’t younger. Suppose it would’ve been harder to keep two toddlers a secret.” You laugh. 

“You always tell us never to keep secrets.” Ben says. “How come you get to?”

“Because sometimes when you’re adult, you need to withhold certain things from other adults. You’ll understand when-”

“When we’re older, Jesus Christ.”

“Candace! We don’t speak like that at the table.”

“What? It’s not like I said the f-word.”

“God, help me.” You sigh. 

//

A few more months pass, and you’re feeling really good about things with Harry. You even manage to spend a couple nights with him on the various weekends the kids are with your parents. You two were snuggled up on his couch watching a movie when he paused it.

“I’ve never been to your place, never even picked you up for a date.”

“I know.”

“Well? How ‘bout we start doin’ that. I hate how after dinner we never get to drive together.”

“It’s just...the kids would see you picking me up.”

“And?” He sighs. “Listen, I’ve been thinking...what if it was time I met them? We’ve been together for like six months, I think it makes sense.” 

“You really want to?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re a part of my life now, and they’re a part of yours.” 

“Sure...I know they wanna meet you. Guess I’ve been the one holding it up.”

“They’ve been okay with you dating?”

“I think if they loved their father they’d act like most kids and hate to see me move on, but they can’t stand him, so they’re happy for me.”

“It’s none of my business, but-”

“He used to beat on us, all of us. I’d get in the way to spare them, but it was no use if they got home before I did. It was awful, I did everything I could to get out of there, and eventually I did.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” He caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch.

“It was a long time ago.” You feel tears prick at your cheeks. “I’ll never be able to understand how someone could their babies, or how the courts didn’t give me full custody right away. He’d only beat on us when he was drunk, and he did stop drinking, but I still didn’t trust him. He tried to prove he was a good father, but it was all rubbish.” You sigh. “It’s all in the past now.” You give him a reassuring smile. “I’ll talk to them, maybe we could have you over for a little lunch in the backyard. The kids love when I fire up the grill.”

“That sounds great! What are they into? Like, what are their hobbies?” 

“Well, Candace is a mix. She loves theater and singing, but she also loves soccer, and getting her hands dirty. Ben loves to paint. He absolutely loves his crafts. He likes to play outside, but he couldn’t be bothered with sports. Used to go right up his father’s ass. Candace plays softball too. I feel terrible, I haven’t had much time to play catch with her lately. Luckily, it’s soccer season right now, so she’s not too mad at me about it. Ben plays goalie for her in the backyard, and it works for them.”

“They’re close?”

“They weren’t when they were younger, but they stood by each other when we were going through everything. They’re not best friends, but you can really see the love between them. It’s wonderful.” 

“I like the theater too, actually. I enjoy a good show once in a while.”

“Really?”

“Oh, sure. I acted a bit in school.” 

You could see the wheels turning in Harry’s head.

“Please don’t feel like you need to do anything to impress them. Just be yourself. They were already so amazed that a man gave me his umbrella.” You chuckle.

“I’m nothing if not a gentleman.” He winks at you. “Well, only in the streets.”

He lifts you up of the couch, and you squeal as he takes you to his bedroom.

//

“How was your weekend with Gram and Pop?” You ask the kids as you drive them back home.

“It was so much fun, Gram got us that cereal that you don’t let us have.” Ben says.

“Oh, that one loaded with sugar that you don’t need first thing in morning? That’s spectacular.” You roll your eyes. 

“Did you see Mr. Styles while we were gone?” Candace asks. 

“I did.” The two look at each other. “He asked me if he could meet the two of you soon.”

“He did?!” 

“Mhm, so I told him I would ask the two of you.”

“Well, you know we wanna meet him mumma.” Ben says. 

“Yeah, bring him over.” 

“Alright, I told him we could do a little lunch out back, do a little grilling. Would you both like that?”

“Yes!” They say in unison. 

//

On Saturday around noon, Harry arrives at your house. He thought it was lovely. You gave him instructions to go right around back, so he does so.

“Hello?” He says as he opens the gate. 

“Harry!” You say walking up to him. “Find it okay?” You both kiss quick, and you walk him further into the yard.

“Yeah, it was a really easy drive.” 

He looks around and sees a swing-set, a little net to play soccer with, and a patio with a lovely glass table and chairs. You see he has a couple of bags with him.

“I brought some soda...do you give them soda? I suppose I should’ve asked first.”

“I give it to them on special occasions, suppose this is one of them.” You smile and take it from him, setting it on the table. “I just sent them in to wash up. They were rolling around in the dirt.” 

Candace and Ben walk outside and are stunned when they see Harry. Candace noticed his curls, and quite liked the style of glasses he was wearing. Ben was mesmerized by the tattoos that littered his arms. He wasn’t at all like they pictures, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Tattoos didn’t automatically mean bad. Their father was a bad person and didn’t have a single tattoo. 

“Kids, come say hello, don’t just stand there like statues.” You laugh. Candace extends her arm to shake his hand.

“Hi Mr. Styles, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“How polite.” He smiles and takes her hand. “Feel free to call me Harry if you feel comfortable with that.” 

“Hello.” Ben shakes his hand next. 

“It’s great to meet yeh both. Your mum has told me so much about you. All good things I promise.” The two giggle. “Um...I brought some things for the two of you.”

“Oh, Harry, you didn’t have to...”

“I know.” He reaches into the bag and crouches to Ben’s level. “Mum told me you liked to paint and do crafts, so I got you one of these water color sets. They’re really cool. My niece likes ‘em a lot, thought you might too.” He looks up at you. “And they don’t make a mess.” 

Ben takes it from him, amazed that an adult man was being nice about his hobbies. 

“What do we say, Ben?” 

“Thank you very much.” He beams at Harry. “Mumma, can I open it now?” 

“Sure.” You shrug. “Let me just fill a glass of water for you, you can sit at the patio table.” You get him set up while Harry speaks to Candace. 

“Now, your mum told me you have a ton of hobbies, but mostly you haven’t had someone to play catch with, so I dug up my old mit.” He takes it out of the bag. “It’s for baseball, but figured it could still do the trick.” He takes a brand new softball out of the bag. “What do yeh say? We could toss it around while your mum gets lunch together.”

“I’d love to!” She snatches the ball from him. “Thanks, this is like the best brand out there.” She looks at you and gives you a thumbs up. You laugh as you fire up the grill. 

You smile as you watch Ben use his new water color set, and smile even more while you watch Candace toss the ball with Harry. 

“You know, if you step into it a bit more...” He puts a hand on his hip. “And if you, like, do you mind if I show you?”

“Okay.” 

He jobs over to her. 

“So...you wanna look where you’re throwing, right? And you’re doin’ that, but you’re releasing it back here, it should be when you get here. And if you step and throw, you could really get a more precise thing goin’.”

“I’ve only played one season, and the coach never showed us stuff like this, thanks!”

Harry jogs back to his spot, and Candace does exactly what he said, throwing it to him perfectly. 

“Amazing! You’re a fast learner, Candace.” 

“Way to go honey! She likes playing second base, any tips on that?”

“Oh, tons.”

“I’m not too good at batting either.”

“Well good thing we’ve got plenty of time to get you ready for the season. By the time I’m done with yeh the coach’ll be puttin’ yeh in first every game.” 

“Candace, go wash your hands again, it’s time for lunch.”

“But we’re having so much fun.” She whines.

“You can play more after. Come on, we all need to go wash up.” 

You take Harry inside, and show him to the kitchen where he can wash his hands. You tell him you’ll give him the full tour later. Lunch goes really well. The kids tell Harry all about school. He was so natural with them, it put you at ease. After lunch, Harry continued to help Candace with her softball skills. At a certain point you told her that was enough, and that she should play with her brother. You and Harry sit as the two of them played on the swing-set. 

“This has been a lot of fun, Y/N.”

“Really? Oh, I’m so glad. I think they really like you.”

“I like them too.”

//

Harry started coming over for dinner when he could. The kids really liked having him around. When it had been about a year of the two of you dating, you and the kids asked Harry to move in with you. He liked your home quite a bit, so it didn’t take much for him to agree. 

“Can I ask you something?” He says as you’re both settling into bed. 

“Of course.” 

“Ben asked me to come to his career day...are you alright with that?”

“Yeah! I think he wants us to go together. It’s been on my calendar for a while.”

“I told him I’d make it work, but...what’s he supposed to call me? S’not like I’m his dad...or his step-dad...”

“Your his Harry.” You smile. 

“Do you think you’d ever want to be married again?”

“Maybe, if the right guy came along.” You nudge him. 

“Very funny.” He rolls his eyes. “M’serious, I mean we’ve been together over a year, and we haven’t really talked about it. I live here now, I’m in their lives...”

“I don’t want you to feel like you need to marry me to seal the deal.”

“I don’t feel that way. I want to marry you because I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

“Alright, so maybe I’ll ask you soon.” He grins, and now you’re the one to roll your eyes. “I have another question...so I love bein’ an uncle, and I’ve loved steppin’ into this fatherly role with Candace and Ben. It’s honestly something I never saw for myself. Do you think you’d ever want more?” Your face falls.

“I physically can’t have more...I had to have a hysterectomy a few years back.”

“Ah.”

“Is that okay? I mean did you want your own kids?”

“Don’t phrase it like. I do have my own kids...and no, I don’t really want, like, a baby. I honestly don’t think I’d have the time to care for an infant.” 

“Me neither. I’m sort of relieved you’re okay with it. I know I’m still young enough to have a baby, I feel like I finally have my life back. Babies are cute and wonderful, and I enjoyed that time with them so much, but I’m over that time in my life. I can actually have real conversations with them now, you know?” 

“I’m really glad we’re on the same page.” 

“Me too.” 

//

About six months later, Harry proposed and you accepted. You both wanted a small wedding. You had a very simple ceremony in your back yard with only close friends and family. The kids had gotten into the habit of calling Harry, Dad. Sometimes they would switch on and off, but Dad mostly stuck. He liked the sound of it a lot. 

You had made sure to sign every form you could to Harry had permissions at school to pick the kids up and drop them off. All their teachers knew Candace and Ben had a step-father. 

Harry was full engrossed in the kids lives. He became Candace’s softball coach, and all the kids loved him. You had never seen Candace play so well. He also made sure to support all of Ben’s school art shows. For a guy that didn’t want to be a father, he was kicking butt at being a good one. 

Around Candace’s twelfth birthday, you and Harry had decided on something very important, and it was time to share it with the two of them.

“We never have family meetings, this is weird.” Candace says as her and Ben sit on the couch. 

“Well, that’s because there’s something mum and I want to tell you.” He clears his throat. “So...even though we’re married, and that makes me your step-father, legally that really doesn’t mean much. I’m not considered a true guardian. And even though the school knows I’m your step-dad, I’ve still run into some issues here and there. Your mum and I work a lot, and we each need to be able to dismiss you easily or whatever it is.” He takes a packet of paper out of his back pocket. “Also...I’ve been in your lives for nearly three years...and I consider myself to be more than just your step-dad, wouldn’t you both agree?”

“Yeah, obviously. We call you dad all the time. Whenever someone asks who you are I just say you’re my dad.”

“I do the same thing.” Ben says. 

“Right, so...we thought we’d make that official.” He hands Candace the papers. 

“Certificate of Adoption?” She looks up at the two of you. 

“It’s taken us some time to get this all together, but it’s legal now.” You explain. 

“I’ve adopted the two of you, hope that’s okay.” 

They both stand and hug Harry immediately. If something were to ever happen to you, you’d want them with Harry. Your parents were great and all, but you wouldn’t want them ripped away from their father. 

“Are you serious?” Candace asks teary eyed. “You really love us that much?”

“I love you both more than anything. You two are my kids, and I won’t have someone tellin’ me you’re not.” 

The truth was, there were a ton of parents who liked to gossip about the two of you. Ever since Harry came into your life and things got more serious. You wouldn’t look at him and know he was such one of the most sought after oral surgeons in the area. When he started coaching Candace’s softball team, that was when the gossip got even worse. The two of you couldn’t stand it any longer. It also warmed your heart that Harry truly thought of Candace and Ben as his own. Because of Harry you were able to give them a normal life again. 

“So now that his is official, I have a question.” Ben says. “If we’re your kids does that mean our last names can be Styles now too? I mean, mum’s is.” 

It was true, you had heightened your last name. You didn’t even do that with your last husband. You were a doctor and you earned that title, why should his name be attached to that? But with Harry, well, you just like the way that sounded.

“You both want my last name?”

“Yes.” They say at the same time. He looks at you. 

“I think we can make that work. It really doesn’t make sense for you to have his last name anymore, does it?” They both shake their heads no. “We really should all have the same last name.”

“I agree.” 

The two of them high five each other. 

“Now then.” You wipe a couple of tears away. “Go put on some nice clothes, we’re going out to eat tonight to celebrate.” 

The two race upstairs while Harry wraps his arms around you. 

“So, Mrs. Y/L/N-Styles, I’d say that went pretty well.”

“Mhm, can you believe they want to be Styles’ too?”

“How could they not? S’a pretty cool name.” 

You kiss each other and wait for them to come back down. You never in your wildest dreams would’ve thought you’d get a second chance at a happy life. Harry was everything you needed and more. You were incredibly grateful and lucky. And to think, if you had simply had your umbrella that day on the street, none of this would be yours. 

[rjhpandapaws]

(2/?) weekend, starring Connor & Nines platonic/brother relationship, canon!verse

//I love this

Early after his deviation, Nines would have answered with a curt almost offended ‘No’ if he was ever asked if he had family. Then one of his predecessor models had glued himself to Nines. Connor checked in on him constantly. At first it had been annoying, and Nines had been dismissive if not outright combative about it. Then the RK800 had been hurt in the line of duty, and suddenly that pillar Nines hadn’t known he needed was gone. He didn’t know how to navigate his fledgling feelings without him around. When Connor came back it was Nines who checked on him constantly. Lingering like a tall sinister shadow. He didn’t know what else to abate what he had come to Identify as worry. Unlike Nines, Connor had been receptive of the constant company. When Nines had asked him about it he had simply smiled. They were a family now. Having a brother was, odd, but not unpleasant Richard found. He had someone who was almost always in his corner. There to help when things got to be too much. He learned a few things about Connor he probably wouldn’t have learned otherwise. His love of animals for one. Everyone knew he adored dogs, but as it turned out he had a soft spot for any animal he came across. The difference in Connor while he was at work and Connor when he was off the clock. He went from a composed, some times even dangerous detective, the one that knew all your cards no matter how close you held them to your chest; to what amounted to a bright eyed child, he was curious about everything and would talk to anyone who had the answers. The first couple of times it had been jarring, but Nines knew now it was how he dealt with having a foot in each world. He worked closely with his base code at work, but once that was over RK800 was put away and the real Connor came out. Nines might have been the younger of the two, but he would do anything in his power to protect that bright eyed wonder in Connor’s eyes.

Connors official activation date was coming up and Nines had made plans for the weekend. A small party Friday evening with friends, and then spending the weekend at Connor’s apartment. Keeping the party a secret was difficult because of his own excitement and that of their friends. From the saline tears in Connor’s eyes and the bright smile he assumed the surprise was a success. Connor turned and hugged Nines tight enough it would have hurt if he was human. “This is amazing, thank you.” He said once he had collected himself. Nines smiled, “You’re welcome. How else was I supposed to express how many people appreciate my little brother.” Connor narrowed his eyes but didn’t take the bait this time. The party was a success, Connor enjoyed himself and everyone else seemed to have fun too. It was a thing to observe. Connor tried to pull him into it a couple of times but Nines was more one for people watching than actively interacting. The party dispersed after a few hours and the duo caught a cab back to Connor’s apartment. Connor had gotten a few gifts, most dog themed, Nines had gotten him a Dwarf  Gourami patterned mug for his thirium.

Connor’s apartment was more furnished than other android apartments. He had a full living room, a guest room designed to be comfortable for both humans and androids, and his room had a bed in it as well. He had a small kitchen as well, most androids forwent that particular customization, but Connor had just as many human friends as he did android ones so it made sense that his home would have influences from both. When they got to the apartment Nines made himself at home while Connor put away the gifts from his birthday. Nines swelled with pride as the mug he had gotten his brother was placed where it could easily be seen. When that was done Connor made his way to where Nines had settled in on the couch and sat beside him. He connected to tv and turned it on for background noise. Connor had come to dislike absolute silence. He needed some kind of noise in the background. “Thanks again for tonight. It was fun.” He said with a smile. “Of course Connor. Its your birthday, and parties seem to be the custom.” Nines said as he relaxed into the couch some, mimicking Connor’s slightly slouched posture. Something he had probably picked up from Hank without noticing. They spent the next few hours talking and listening to what was on the tv until Connor decided to get ready for stasis. When he was in pajamas, another thing Nines didn’t understand, he came back out into the living room to say good night. “I’m gonna go into stasis for a bit. You can keep watching tv or do whatever. The guest room is open if you want to get some rest as well.” Connor gestured to the door to the guest room, despite Nines already knowing the floor plan. “Sleep well Connor.” Nines said in response as the shorter android retreated down the hall.

Saturday found them lounging around the apartment comparing notes on a few cases until Connor get distracted by a commercial for the Detroit Zoo. Nines knew what he was going to suggest before he turned back toward Nines, but the bigger android let him speak. “Would you like to go to the zoo once we finish these up?” He asked with bright eyes. “Sure. I haven’t gotten to go yet.” Nines responded. “It will be fun.” They worked through the reports a little faster now that that they had motivation. By ten in the morning they were in a cab on the way to the Detroit Zoo. Connor was all but vibrating in excitement. He was prattling off all the things they could do when they got there, and Nines listened despite having access to all the same information. He didn’t get to see Connor this excited very often and it was a nice change of pace. When they arrived Connor paid and disappeared into the Saturday crowd leaving Nines to trail after him. He took the place behind Connor in line. “I never thought I would have to tell a grown android not to run off.” He remarked dryly, despite the amused smile curling at his lips. Connor turned to face him still grinning, “I’m excited Nines. I’ve never been to a zoo before.” “Neither have I, but you don’t see me running around like a child.” He responded. Connor rolled his eyes, “That’s because you’re boring.” Nines shoved him. careful of the other people in line and didn’t deign that with a response. He was excited, but like most other things he chose not to express it. Connor had it covered well enough for them both. When they were admitted Connor spent hours dragging Nines from exhibit to exhibit. It was nice. They took in the available facts and watched a couple of the shows. Nines went into the reptile enclosure on his own because it was a little too enclosed for Connor’s liking. In the way that all good tourists did, they stopped by the gift shop. Nines bought a wolf plush for Connor, and tiger print coffee mug for Gavin. Connor bought a lot of things, most of them were for him, but he had gotten a bobble head of a particularly grumpy looking lion for Hank and an oversized snake plush for Nines. He adored it, privately of course. Connor had gotten a perfectly composed “thank you” but Nines was beaming on the inside. With Connor it was the little things he used to express he cared. They topped off on thirium when they got back to the apartment and talked well into the night. Neither of them going into stasis, too busy going back over the day and relishing in the memory.

Sunday was a lazy day, time to themselves before they got back to work on Monday. Connor had music playing softly in the background as he and Connor attempted to play some of the older video games Hank and Gifted him as they were intended rather than interfacing with the controllers and it was a time. Playing games based off of reflex instead of access to their code was difficult, but doing well gave a rush that had Nines understanding why humans loved it so much. When evening rolled around Nines found himself not wanting to leave, but he had to since they both had work in the morning. “See you tomorrow Connor.” Nines said when they were at the door. “See you tomorrow Nines.” Connor said with a smile as he gave Nines one last hug. “Thanks for this weekend. It was fun.” “It really was.” He said with a smile. He gave another wave and left. He was looking forward to the next weekend they could do something like this again.

@i-am-therefore-i-fight //ngl this ask makes me want to go to the zoo

(Prompt from this list)

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Hello, can you write a Thomastair based on the prompt where Alastair dies and Thomas thinks about their time together?? ❤❤❤

Of course I can! This is one of the ones I was actually excited to write because I know exactly what I want to write. I’m sorry that is took so long but it hurt to write and I hope you like it!

I hope none of you hate me after this because this fic might hurt more than Castle Towers Fall, and that’s saying a lot.

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

Seasons of Love (Modern AU)

“Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty five thousand journeys to plan

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure a life of a woman or a man?” - Seasons of Love, Rent

Thomas could barely remember the funeral, it had gone in a blur. There wasn’t a lot of crying, maybe Cordelia and Jasper (not that he really understood what had happened), but Thomas couldn’t even recall if he had cried as well, he hadn’t really even cried at all the past few days. He felt numb the whole time as everyone droned on and on about how sorry they were, how missed Alastair would be, how they could only imagine how he felt.

Thomas didn’t even know how he felt. All he knew was that it hurt. Everything hurts. And unlike every time before that, Alastair isn’t there to make it better. He didn’t know if he was angry or sad, he didn’t know if he was tired or hungry anymore.

Now he just sat there on the sofa, staring blankly at the wall, all alone in his and Alastair’s flat. James and Cordelia had offered to take Jasper for the weekend, saying it would be a good distraction for the both of them. After Sona had died, Alastair went to court to get custody over his brother, something Elias had detested and tried his hardest to fight. Thomas remember how the trials had been, how Alastair was barely grieving his mother in his haste to make sure Jasper wasn’t ruined by Elias like he was.

Alastair was pacing the floor of their bedroom, to the point where Thomas was concerned for the carpet underneath his feet.

“Calm down, love, it’ll be fine.” Thomas had tried to comfort from his spot on the edge of the bed, but apparently it was no use, because Alastair was still stressing anyways.

Alastair turned to him sharply, an unreadable look on his face. “But what if it’s not, Thomas? What if they rule in Elias’s favor? I won’t let my brother be ruined by that bastard, I won’t!”

“They won’t. Once they meet Elias and hear yours and Cordelia’s statements, Jasper will be in our custody, the lawyers said it would be an open and shut case. You know this.” Thomas had said calmly.

“But they also said that Elias could have a chance, with what his lawyers have been spewing about us.” Alastair spat and Thomas sighed, knowing he was right. Elias’s lawyers had pulled out all the stops in order to get Jasper. From saying Elias had successfully gone to rehab to saying Alastair shouldn’t have Jasper because he’s his half-brother, not even really a Carstairs in according to Elias’s lawyers.

Thomas then stood up, moving behind Alastair to wrap his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. “But you and I both know that none of that matters. The judge will see through Elias’s facade and Jasper will be safe, here, with us before you know it. I promise.” Alastair turned and buried his head in Thomas’s chest.

“Thank you.” he whispered but Thomas heard him.

“Anytime, my love. Anytime.”

And Thomas had been right, the judge saw right through Elias’s facade at the last trial. Right after Elias’s lawyers had said it wouldn’t be beneficial for Jasper to grow up in a home with two men, instead of his own father. Needless to say, they had gotten to take Jasper home with them that very day. That was almost four years ago, even if it only felt like yesterday to Thomas. Alastair had only just been talking about what they were going to do for Jasper’s fourth birthday party, which Thomas didn’t even have the heart to cancel now. Even if Alastair wasn’t going to be there anymore. He looked around the room, at the photographs on the wall, all taken by Alastair, all of them amazing and special in their own way.

His eyes then focused on Alastair’s piano, just wishing Alastair come back and play it again for him. He could still remember the first time he had asked him to...

“Oh come on Alastair! Please!” Thomas had begged one lazy Sunday afternoon. They had spent most of the day in bed, basking in the sunlight streaming through the windows and sharing lazy kisses.

“No, Thomas.” Alastair had said and tried playing it off, saying that he was terrible at the piano, so bad that he would make Thomas deaf. But Thomas had said he would risk his hearing to hear Alastair play at least once.

Eventually Alastair had given in, rolling his eyes as he sat down at the piano bench. He took a deep breath before starting to play. It was simple, familiar tune that Thomas knew well. It was one of the first songs Thomas had sung to Alastair, an old Elvis Presley song, that Thomas had said reminded him of Alastair. And oh, Alastair wasn’t bad, not at all. He was absolutely amazing as he played the keys with a practiced finesse.

Thomas couldn’t help but sing the last line of the song as Alastair’s playing started to slow.

“For I can't help falling in love with you...” he sang, moving to sit next to the other boy, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Alastair leaned into his touch, resting his head on Thomas’s broad shoulder. His eyes were closed and he was breathing softly, Thomas would have thought he was asleep if he hadn’t just seen him playing.

“See, I’m terrible. I hope it was worth going deaf for.” Alastair whispered, eyes still closed. Thomas rolled his eyes and kissed the top of Alastair’s head.

“Yes, you’re absolutely horrible, Lassie.”

That little routine played out almost every time Thomas asked Alastair to play for him. Alastair would refuse and say he was terrible and out of practice, Thomas would convince him with kisses until he gave in and played a song or two. The three of them would spend afternoons like that; Alastair playing as Thomas sang, Jasper clapping from next to them on the bench, always asking them to play nursery rhymes he learned at his preschool.

He shifted his eyes from the piano to the rings on his pinkie and ring fingers. He looked at them with a sad smile, bittersweet thinking about the wedding they were supposed to have. They hadn’t told anyone their plans yet and hadn’t planned to, which annoyed all of their friends and family to no end.

They planned to take a trip to Paris in June, Jasper included, and have a small ceremony there, something small and intimate. It was their favorite place after all and it was where Thomas had realized his feelings for Alastair the first time and the place he’d proposed.

“Marry me.” Thomas had said. They were sitting on the balcony of their hotel room, drinking tea and talking before bed. Alastair had paused, his tea nearly spilling on him as the mug wobbled in his shaky hands.

He looked over at him, dark eyes wide and unsure. Thomas hated when he had that look on his face, one that he knew must have been constant during his relationship with Charles. Alastair looked down at his mug of tea just as quickly as he looked up, whispering. “Really?” It was just loud enough for Thomas to hear the way his voice shook, as if he thought this wasn’t real.

“Yes, really. I want you to be my husband, Lassie. I want to be able to call myself your husband and say ‘You see that beautiful man right there, that’s my husband’. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, until we’re old and grey, and wearing adult diapers because we can’t go to bathroom on our own anymore. I want us to have a family of our own, so Jasper isn’t by himself when he gets older. I want everything and more with you, I want that more than anything,” Thomas stopped, moving to get the ring box out of his pocket. He’d been carrying it around for months now, trying to get the courage to tell Alastair how he felt. “I’ve been carrying around this ring for a few months now, waiting for the perfect moment to arrive and I didn’t want to miss it. And now is the perfect moment. Because it’s just you and me in our favorite city in the world, and that’s perfect for me. So will you, Alastair Jahan Carstairs, marry me, Thomas Gideon Lightwood and make me the happiest man alive?”

Alastair finally looked up at him, eyes filled with tears, some of them slipping down his cheeks. He nodded with a small smile, not trusting himself to speak just yet. Thomas knew full well that he had a stupid grin on his face that Alastair would say make him look like an idiot. Thomas stood up and gathered Alastair into his arms, kissing every inch of his face that he could. Alastair was attempting to kiss back but it was hard with the amount of smiling he was doing.

When they had both finally pulled back, foreheads touching, Alastair’s arms wrapped around Thomas’s neck while his arms were wrapped tightly around Alastair’s waist. They stood there, swaying slightly to a beat no one else could hear.

“That last part was awfully cheesy, Lightwood.” Alastair teased lightly as he nuzzled their noses together.

“Soon to be Lightwood-Carstairs.” Thomas corrected.

“Or Carstairs-Lightwood.”

They hadn’t planned to tell anyone about what they were really going to do in Paris, Alastair had said it would be more fun to surprise them. He always did like the dramatics, no matter how much he denied it, it was a fact.

The ring on Thomas’s pinkie was smaller than the one on his ring finger, since it had been fitted for someone else. They weren’t fancy rings, made of silver with a small inscription on the inside of each one.

The bigger of the two read; A.J.C., standing for Alastair Jahan Carstairs. While the small read; T.G.L., for Thomas Gideon Lightwood of course. The inscriptions had been Alastair’s idea, he said it had made the rings a lot more personal than they appeared, like geodes.

He hasn’t taken the rings off since before the funeral. He hadn’t taken Alastair’s off since the hospital, when the nurse gave him Alastair’s bag of belongings. Thomas had cleaned it until his fingers were prunish, before slipping it on his pinkie, the only finger it would fit. He couldn’t bury the ring with Alastair, it hurt too much to even see him in the casket, much less with the ring he was supposed to have until he grew old.

But Alastair would never get to grow old. He would never have their wedding in Paris. He wouldn’t even be at Jasper’s birthday party next month, or the next Christmas, or their next anniversary. It made Thomas angry to think about that, that they didn’t get the years Thomas had promised him.

It made him angry when he thought of the time after their engagement, when they talked about death. How he’d made Alastair promise to find love again if he were to die young, and Alastair made him promise the same thing. He knew he couldn’t live up to that promise. He knew he never could. Because Alastair was it for him, he was the person who made his world turn and the one who made it feel like fighter jets in his stomach (not butterflies, because those are too soft to describe how Alastair makes him feel).

How could anyone else replace that? No one could. No can ease the unbearable pain he’s in, no one can make him stop feeling like he’s going to crawl out of his own skin. Alastair was the only one for him. His true love, his soulmate, all the cliche things like that.

“You better not fall in love with me, Lightwood.”

“That won’t be a problem, Carstairs.”

Alastair had teased when they first got together, half serious and half not. Thomas wasn’t sure if he was grateful that he didn’t listen or not. Maybe if he had listened he wouldn’t be in this position...no, he can’t think that. He would never regret Alastair, never. If he did, it would make him no better than Charles, and Thomas had always strived to be better than him, to make sure Alastair never felt the way he did with Charles ever again.

“I’m so happy I didn’t listen.”

Thomas had whispered against Alastair’s skin in bed that night, causing Alastair to look at him in confusion. He hadn’t remembered when he told Thomas to not fall in love with him.

“I’m happy you didn’t listen either.”

Alastair had said later on, when he thought Thomas had fallen asleep. He hadn’t, but couldn’t bring himself to tell Alastair that, knowing it would embarrass him.

He couldn’t help but lose himself in the memories, nearly drowning himself in the process. From the first day they met, it had been Alastair and it would always be Alastair. That had never changed. Not in the near decade he had known Alastair. Not even when he’s old and grey, in adult diapers and can barely remember his own name. It will always be Alastair.

“You must be Alastair Carstairs! I’m Thomas Lightwood, nice to meet you!” Thomas had said excitedly, holding out his hand for Alastair to shake.

Alastair looked at his hand warily before shaking it. “You’re a little too small, Thomas. I think I’m going to call you pipsqueak.”

Thomas hadn’t even been listening, distracted by the pretty boy in front of him. “I’ll call you Lassie then.” The other boy looked at him in surprise, a small smirk curling on his lips.

“I think we’re going to get along just fine, Thomas Lightwood.”

[justgillespie]

Missing (4/?)

Summary: Your next door neighbor, Luke Patterson (a.k.a. your longtime crush) has gone missing, and you think you could help finding him.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: None!

Part 5

•

As soon as you both finished eating, she took you to his room.

It felt weird to you to see the rest of the room you couldn’t visualize from your window. You could finally see some furniture and more posters.

“I promise I won’t go off limits, Mrs. Patterson.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry. As I said, this is a pretty special situation. Just call me if you need anything.”

That took you off guard. You didn’t actually think she would leave you by yourself.

“Thank you, again.” You said before she left.

You looked around for a moment, and giggled.

You couldn’t believe you were there. You made it.

You looked at your window room from there, and couldn’t help but think that just a few hours ago, you were there trying to figure out how to get to Luke’s room. Max would not believe this.

You started going through some notebooks found on a desk. Maybe one of those had some information about the band. But you didn’t find anything relevant. If there was something, you couldn’t really tell. He had horrible handwriting. You did notice signatures from the other band members. Mostly Alex and Reggie’s, but nothing else.

You moved on to check the desk drawers. You found a polaroid picture. He was there, with three other boys.

You opened your eyes wide. The band. They had to be the rest of the band. Of course, you didn’t know for sure, but you had a good feeling. You grabbed the picture. You would ask Mrs. Patterson if you could take it with you.

You then stood in front of his closet, thinking whether or not to go through it too. You decided to open it and give it a quick glance. Not touching anything, just looking at it.

And so you did.

You opened it and noticed that it was practically empty. A couple of jackets were hanging inside and a single flannel shirt. But you thought it was impossible for him to take every piece of clothing he owned. If he ran away on his bike, as his mom told yours, than he must’ve taken a simple backpack with him. Something easy to carry.

Just to take away the doubt, you checked the drawers and indeed, there were several shirts and pants in there, perfectly folded. You closed those and finally went up to that one poster you were so familiar with at this point. But there really wasn’t any more information besides the band’s name.

You then checked his night stand and, besides a lamp, the only thing that you found was a guitar pick. It was white, and it had the letters SC written on black. You took it and then, giving the room a last look, you left to meet Mrs. Patterson in the living room. You showed her the polaroid you found and told her that you suspected they could be Luke’s bandmates. You asked if you could take it and she said yes.

“I also found this guitar pick? I think he might’ve forgotten when he... left. I just thought that maybe I could take it with me just so when I find him I can give it back.”

You noticed the conviction in your voice, and by the sweet smile Mrs. Patterson gave you, you could tell she did too.

“Of course. Take it.”

“Thank you.”

Before leaving, you and Emily ate a couple of the cookies she baked while you were up in Luke’s room.

“Take care.” You said to her on the door, when she gave you a hug.

“You too, sweetie.”

“I promise to come visit you more often.”

“I’ll be waiting for you. I repeat, you’re always welcome.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, too.” You both released from the hug and you were already walking away when she called you again.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You turned to see her.

“You’re a really nice girl. I think you and Luke would get along perfectly.”

•

Tamra got home first, as usual, and she parked her car in the garage. As you thought she would. Which was the reason that made you leave her a note on the fridge. You decided to wait for Max in front of his house, on his steps.

His mom, Mrs. Miers, invited you to come inside but you told her you would just wait for Max there. She tried to convince you otherwise but you insisted, so she asked you to at least accept a glass of lemonade.

You emptied the glass just when Max was arriving.

“Hey! How did it go?” You rapidly got up on your feet and walked to him.

“Well, hello, I’m fine, thanks.” He rolled his eyes.

“Hi. So?!”

He sighed. “I did it. I talked to people... kind of.”

“What do you mean kind of?”

“Well... I asked my friend Ian to do the talking. I went with him, but he was the one doing the questions.”

“But you got information?”

“Yes- Ow!“

You squealed and hugged him, just like you did that morning.

“Hey, calm down, it’s nothing much, really...”

“It doesn’t matter. You got something, I’m so proud of you!”

“Don’t exaggerate.” He rolled his eyes, but smiled.

“I got something too, actually.”

“Let’s go inside.”

Max guided you to his living room, inside his house.

“You go first.” He said and you obeyed, since your information wasn’t much relevant.

“So first of all, I got into Luke’s room.”

“What?! Without asking?!”

“Obviously.” You said sarcastically and rolled your eyes. “Obviously not. I had lunch with Mrs. Patterson at her house today. We were just talking and I asked her if I could go check it out and she said yes... But I didn’t get much. Just this picture... I was wondering if you recognize them.”

He took the polaroid. “Yes! They are the guys. This is Reggie, Alex and Bobby.”

After all these days, you could finally give those names some faces.

“Great! Besides that, there weren’t any other clues. So what about you? What did you find out?”

You decided to not tell him about the guitar pick. It was something you would save for yourself.

“They practice at Bobby’s garage.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

“Well... no. Look, we were trying to be subtle since Bobby, Alex and Reggie went to school today. I honestly think they might know where Luke is. But they wouldn’t say anything. Today at school they were called by the principal. We supposed it was to ask them about Luke... My point is, we tried not to ask too personal questions in case they found out what we were doing.”

You wanted to protest but of course, Max had a point. If they were covering Luke, they were going to do anything to keep his location a secret.

“But I thought you guys weren’t classmates. You and the other guys.”

“We aren’t. Ian is. I mean, Ian has french with them.”

You nodded slowly.

“Oh, we also found out Amy’s mom is friends with Alex’s mom? From some pilates class... maybe it was yoga. I don’t know.”

“Amy? Amy our neighbor? That Amy?”

Max chuckled. “Yeah. Amy Campbell. Ian was actually the one who provided me that information. He and Amy’s older brother go to karate together.”

“Tomorrow is Amy’s birthday party! Do you think... Alex might go?”

“I doubt it. As far as Ian told me, Amy and Brandon never actually got to meet Alex... You’re going to Amy’s party?”

“Yeah. I already told her I would. You?”

“I told her I wouldn’t.”

“Max!”

“What? I don’t wanna go. At parties I usually just sit all night, eat and sing if I know the songs.”

“Come on, let’s gooo.” You insisted. “This isn’t a normal party, it’s a pool party!”

“Why do you want me to go? You’ll probably just leave me on my own anyways to talk to the rest.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t play the victim. I’ll drag you with me everywhere okay? Come on, what if Alex shows up after all? We don’t know, this could be good! Even if nothing happens, then it could be fun to distract ourselves for a bit. Please.”

He sighed and stared at you for a second before groaning. “Fine, fine. I’ll go.”

“Yay! I promise it’ll be worth it.”

You then said goodbye and went to your house.

After saying hi to your family, you rapidly went up to your room to get ready for your dance class.

“How was everything today, honey?”

Your mom asked you, later at dinner.

“I called Mrs. Patterson a while ago and she was so happy you went. She told me you two had fun together.”

You smiled. “We did. I’m planning on visiting her more often.”

“That’s a great idea.” She smiled back.

“Do you girls have any plans this weekend?” Your dad asked.

“I actually... Wanted to ask you something.” Tamra asked, and she seemed nervous. Which was rare to see.

“Sure baby, what is it?” Your mom said.

“What do you guys think if I bring Tyler for dinner, on Sunday?”

You heard how your dad dropped his fork and knife on his plate, while your mom clapped and you looked at your sister, surprised.

“Really? Is it that official?” You asked.

“Shut up.”

Tamra never actually brought any of her boyfriends to the house, for some reason. You were the only one that met them since they usually were guys from school. One time, she even dated a guy from your dance studio, who was her age.

This time, though, you never met him. You only knew he existed because she announced it to all of you at dinner once.

“Oh, Tamra! We’re so glad to finally meet him! I am so excited! What should I cook?”

“This counts as a special occasion, so we need dessert. Does he like cheesecake?” You said, excited too.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Dad!”

“David!”

You, Tamra and your mom complained at the same time.

“I’m just saying, honey, aren’t you too young for boyfriends?”

You rolled your eyes. “Dad, she’s eighteen. Leave her alone.”

“Well, she’s still my daughter. I think I have a say on this.”

“We’re discussing this later.” Your mom stopped. She faced you. “What about you, Y/N, do you have any other plans?”

“Actually, yes. Tomorrow is Amy’s birthday party. It’s a pool party. I was wondering if I could go?”

“I don’t see why not.” She looked at your father and he nodded approvingly too.

You clapped. “Perfect! Thank you.”

Later in your room, you took the polaroid and the guitar pick and checked them carefully. You saved them in your night stand before leaving to dance.

Luke was smiling in that picture, just like in any other you had the opportunity to see at his house.

You sighed. You really hoped he was okay.

The idea of Bobby, Alex and Reggie knowing where he is, really made you hopeful.

“Hey” Someone said, entering your room.

You knew it was Tamra way before you looked up to see her. She never knocks, so it was easy to tell when it was her coming to your room.

“Hey” You smiled at her. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I just... I came to tell you what happened.”

After you came up to your room, you knew Tamra stayed longer because your dad wanted to talk to her.

She sat on your bed, next to you.

“What did dad tell you?” You asked.

“Oh, you know. He started with this big speech about growing up, and that I should be careful, and stuff like that. But then he started started being emotional and said that he was afraid of me leaving the house or change my plans for college and other stuff.”

You frowned and then giggled. “He’s so dramatic.”

“I know. I won’t throw away everything I’ve planned for years just for a boy I’ve been dating for two months.”

“Not any boy, I can see.”

She rolled her eyes but blushed. “Anyways, dad also said he was happy for me and that I would always be his baby.” She said like bragging, with a shrug.

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Childish. Now, tell me, where is this Tyler from, anyways?”

“I met him at The Drop.”

It was a caffe near your dance studio. It had a mini library with books you could read while enjoying any kind of drink or food. You two would go there after class sometimes, or when your classes aren’t too long, she would wait for you there.

“It was a few weeks before we moved. You actually know him. He’s the barista.”

“Wait, that Tyler?! Are you serious?!”

You knew something was going on. He would always give dreamy looks to your sister and would talk different to her. You told her so, every time you noticed but she would just wave it off saying you were just imagining things.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” You said, a little hurt.

“I don’t know. Things were different with him. I was... scared. Of you not liking him, or something.” She admitted. And you knew that was a big deal. Just by the fact that she was showing her vulnerability, (which she barely ever showed to anyone), you knew she felt something strong for this guy.

“Really?” You asked, a little confused and flattered.

“Yeah. I’m actually terrified now. For the dinner. I really want you all to like him.”

“I’m sure we will.” You assured her. “Tamra I’m really, really happy for you.”

She smiled and hugged you. Tamra was almost never affectionate either, but when she was, you really appreciate it.

She stayed a little longer with you and you two chatted for a while until she went to bed and left you alone with the polaroid and the guitar pick again.

You really hoped you could get to something this weekend.

•

Taglist: @ifilwtmfc @sovereignparker @catbcyluke @marvelgirl300 @charlieschickens @kegkingbillyhargrove @differentsoulrascalsalad @imamysticalwitch @viamiasoncrack @sunnyrye

*The ones crossed out are the ones that I wasn’t able to tag! (Sorry!)

[bondsmagii]

statement regarding the sudden disappearance of all my childhood memories and subsequent photos, gradually, over the course of four years

ARCHIVIST

Statement of Jasmine Harper, regarding the disappearance of all childhood memories and photographs over the course of four years. Original statement given July 21, 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

I can’t really remember when it was that I noticed. It was a gradual thing, but at the same time it felt so sudden… like I woke up one morning and they were all gone, or at least most of them were. But I know that isn’t what happened at all, is it? The more I think about it, the more I realise that I began to forget years and years before I realised something was truly wrong. I thought it was normal, you know? I thought it was just part of getting older. I mean, how many of us get out of university able to recall the full names of everyone in our first primary school class? I took Psychology for one of my A-Levels, actually, and when we did our module on memory that was one of the tests. I must have been able seventeen then, so it was before I noticed this happening. We had to take a sheet of paper and write down every full name we could remember from our first primary school class. I won by a landslide, and I had five names. Only five names! But that’s the thing – I used to have such a good memory when it came to my childhood. That’s why I can’t understand what’s happening.

I had a good childhood. This isn’t any childhood trauma or anything like that. I mean, there were some nasty moments in it, like any childhood is prone to have – I had a problem with bullies when I first started high school, nothing out of the ordinary but you know how cruel kids can be, and when you’re that age it sticks with you. My parents divorced when I was fourteen, but there was nothing specifically traumatic about that. It sucked, and I was sad to see them sad, but they remained civil through the whole thing and actually got on better afterwards, so it wasn’t like there were screaming matches or anything. They were careful to keep my brother and I updated on everything, which I was thankful for. It was nice, that they didn’t do what a lot of parents seem to do – treat us like small children, and not young adults who would also be affected by the situation. If I ever get a divorce, I hope to god it’s as pleasant as my parents’ was. There’s nothing in my childhood that I can pinpoint that might have caused this, and that seems to be a common cause of forgetting, at least – trauma, mental illness, something like that. I’ve… struggled with depression sometimes, but never anything that I didn’t get under control with the right combination of things. Really, I’m a completely normal, average person. There’s nothing that could have caused this at all. I’ve been to doctors, I’ve had brain scans, I was worried it was some kind of tumour or stroke, but no. Nothing. I’m perfectly healthy, but I don’t feel it.

As I said, it began gradually. I realised I was forgetting things; small things. The address of the house I lived in until I was five. Old phone numbers. The last names of childhood friends. Some of my teachers’ names. None of it was unusual. I’m pretty sure everyone forgets those things, so I wasn’t worried at all. A little annoyed sometimes, because it really felt like getting old, or I couldn’t randomly look somebody up on Facebook to see how they were doing or something, but really it wasn’t unusual at all. It was only when I started forgetting bigger things that I began to grow concerned. I mean, this was stuff that I shouldn’t forget at all, or that was relatively recent. I know for most people, childhood probably means when they were a smaller child; before they hit their teenage years, perhaps. Well, this seems to be taking the legal definition of child as its guide, because I found myself forgetting things that happened when I was sixteen, seventeen years old. I mean, that’s not that long ago! That’s not even ten years ago! I began to forget huge chunks of time; before I knew it I couldn’t recall my earliest memories, and then I couldn’t recall anything from primary school. It’s just blank, like trying to think about what was there before I was born. Still I told myself it wasn’t that much to worry about, but then it began creeping up and up, and back then I still had the photographs. I could look through photo albums or friends’ Facebook pages and see what I was forgetting: a birthday party at Alton Towers when we were eleven, the school ski trip to Italy when we were fourteen, our school’s knock-off idea of an American prom when we were seventeen. There I am, in all of the pictures, grinning and present and definitely there. But I can’t remember a thing about the day at all!

I finally accepted something was terribly wrong at my aunt’s wedding. She was getting married pretty later on in life because she was kind of wild as a young adult, didn’t want to settle down or anything. Everyone was fond of her – she always had the most interesting stories and she’s just a lot of fun to be around – and so the whole family was there to see her get married: all the surviving grandparents, great aunts and uncles, cousins, partners, friends, kids, even the dogs were invited. It was a beautiful summer day and everyone was having so much fun and I know this sounds stupid but I feel so mad that this had to happen on that day of all days, because nothing bad is supposed to happen at a wedding, right? Well, everything was fine until late into the reception, and we were all a little drunk but not overly so. I was sitting with my mum and brother at a table with some cousins and my aunt and her new wife, and we were all reminiscing about other crazy family parties and stuff. I was talking about my grandparents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary, that happened when I was twelve or thirteen. I was telling some story – of course I can’t even remember what it was now, but it was something about me and my brother and the cousins that were at the table with us, and I was talking about it just fine and then, literally mid-sentence, I forgot it. Not just what we were doing, but the whole event. I didn’t even know I was talking about the anniversary until my brother prompted me, and then it was just blank. My brother and cousins all picked up the story and I laughed along and played it up like I’d had a little too much wine, you know, haha, but I mean it when I say it was gone. And not only that – it felt taken from me. It felt as though somebody had reached into my head and just… plucked the memory right out.

It bothered me so much that I went to visit my mum shortly afterwards. We sat down and had a few cups of tea and eventually I worked up the courage to ask if I could root around in the photo albums, saying that the wedding had reminded me of a few things I wanted to look at again – ironic, I know. Mum was of course down to get out all the albums – she never went digital, she doesn’t like not having physical albums to look through – so we dragged a bunch of them down and sat around the table to look. The first one was normal, just a family holiday to Florida when I was sixteen, but as we started going through the older albums I noticed there were pictures of me missing that I know for a fact existed. They were just gone, and then there were others where I knew I should be there but I wasn’t. And Mum didn’t think anything was strange! There was one picture, I remember it so clearly because we almost got into a big fight about it, and it was of my brother dressed as Spider Man on Halloween. I distinctly remember that night because I was dressed as the Pink Power Ranger and the costume was uncomfortable as hell, so I know I was there. I know I was in that picture, because it was such a ridiculous picture, the two of us in full bodied costumes like that, and I finally mentioned to my mum that I should be in there. Not aggressively or anything, just oh, I could have sworn I was in that one!, and she denied it and I insisted and she kept saying no, she was sure it was just George in that picture, but then I pointed out that George had his arm out in mid-air like it should be around someone. It was clearly around my shoulders. The height was right, his fingers were slightly curled like they were pressing in to my arm. Mum just looked for a moment, and I thought, briefly, that she might finally see it – but then she just said George was doing a Spider Man pose, like shooting a web from his wrist or something, and I just… I don’t even know. I just felt so hopeless, I almost cried. I was sure, so sure! Mum’s always taken photos, even now – every holiday, every event, even just going over for Sunday dinner. She’s told me several times I loved being in front of the camera as a kid, so I know there must have been way more pictures of me than that. Mum just didn’t get what I was on about, though, so I gave up in the end. There was no use fighting. What could I say?

Well, that was when I went to the doctor. I’ve already outlined how useless that was. Nothing wrong with me at all, apparently, but I’m sure most of them weren’t really taking me seriously. I was told it couldn’t be all my memories, and that photographs didn’t just vanish. I was seconds away from getting referred to a psychiatrist when I decided I would be better off shutting up about it. I’m not—I don’t think this is mental illness. I’ve looked it up so many times and I’ve read about people being delusional, you know, not believing they’re the ones in the picture, or that other people in the picture have been replaced, but that’s not what’s happening here. I haven’t read anything about like what’s happening to me. Nobody is out there saying they’re forgetting their entire childhood, birth to eighteen, and the pictures are vanishing along with it. There is something else going on here but I don’t know what. I’ve never done anything to deserve this, I’ve never messed around with anything I shouldn’t. If this is something like—like what you people investigate, I do not know when I would have come across it. I don’t even know what I mean by this. It seems ridiculous to even consider that it could be a ghost, or a curse, or—or God knows what.

A few weeks after this I went to Mum’s again, and one of the photo albums was still out. I looked through it and I was gone from every single picture. I was not there at all. Even the ones I saw only recently, I was gone from them. Just George on his own, and in the spaces where pictures of just me should be, other photos had replaced them. Just scenery shots, or views from the hotel balcony, or Christmas decorations and piles of presents, or spreads of holiday food. Nothing Mum would put in there herself. She likes to preserve the details, but her albums are for people. Her photos in the albums always have people or pets in them. I showed her, pretending it was just out of interest, but she seemed to not know what I meant. “I’ve always accessorised”, was what she said. Something about context, making it a pretty spread, keeping all the themes together. I don’t know. It was nothing that Mum would say, anyway. She was always so militant about it – at least up until recently.

I walked around the house a bit and of course I was gone from the rest of the pictures, too. My school photos were all gone, and all the framed pictures on bedside tables or shelves showed just my brother, or more scenery. There was one picture of the rose bush in the garden and I knew for a fact I was supposed to be standing in front of it, because it was my prom picture and I was wearing a dress the exact same shade of red as the roses, and Mum wanted to get a picture of me standing in front of it to show off the perfect colour match. There was just the rose bush, and even when I picked up the frame and looked closely at the picture, I could see no signs that it had ever been anything but. I wondered why it was still there, because pictures of just me usually vanished and got replaced by something else entirely, but then I saw in the corner, almost hidden by the frame, the faintest pink blur of part of my mother’s finger. Is that all it takes? Is one blurry finger worth more than my entire being? I don’t understand what’s going on!

I think… I think I could deal with it easier, if it wasn’t for the fact that everybody seems to think nothing is wrong. If it was just one of those weird things, I think I could live with it if my parents and brother were also with me on it, knowing it was weird, being concerned. I’ve looked everywhere and they’re all gone, all the photos, in every relative’s house and on Facebook. The earliest ones I can find are on my eighteenth birthday party. Everything before that is gone. I don’t remember anything. It’s like I materialised at age eighteen and there was nothing before that; I don’t even really know who I am anymore. I can’t know, because all the steps I took to get here are gone, and everything I learned about my family and friends as I grew up alongside them has vanished. I feel completely… completely detached, completely adrift, and I don’t know if I’m being paranoid but it just feels like there’s a little less of me every day. It’s like I spent eighteen years building up, and now I’m just… fading away.

I don’t know what to do.

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends.

This is a fairly straightforward one to follow up. There isn’t really much to say. On the surface it does very much seem like a case for a doctor rather than the Institute, but some things do seem to back up part of the story, at least. Attempts to get in contact with Ms Harper were unsuccessful, as it seems she does not exist. There are a couple of records here and there of a Ms Harper matching the age and occupation that she provided with her statement, but when Tim contacted the workplaces involved, nobody could recall her. As for anything else – records such as a birth or death certificate, a driver’s license – there is nothing. Of course, she could have provided a fake name, but Tim managed to get in touch with George Harper, Ms Harper’s younger brother, and confirmed it was the same George Harper by asking a few questions about his childhood. He recalled several holidays and weddings that Ms Harper mentioned, though he mentioned nothing about a sister. When questioned about siblings, he was adamant he had never had one, and had grown up an only child. I’m not entirely sure how he did it, and nor am I inclined to want to know, but Tim managed to persuade Mr Harper to give him the contact information for his parents. Both stated that they had only one child – a son. The only Jasmine in the family seems to be Mrs Harper’s pet pug dog; apparently, Mrs Harper “always liked the name”, but had never had the chance to use it.

Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be much more we can do regarding this one.

End recording.