#yeah the writing has gotten bad bad but these sparks of perfect interactions just give me life

[mossmx]

Monk and the gang where stuck in the vault and the Captain picked the locked box just to give him Trudy's bracelet so Monk could have some relief ASDFGHJDLHFLIDuhguirahgiaurKLAHNRGKLHAHUIHAGUI

if someone says Leland doesn't love Monk I will bite them ;_____;

I'm crying so much

[sentinelpri]

could I request some hcs for a shy autobot reader w a crush on starscream? maybe they try super hard to hide it but it’s like,, blatantly obvious and he teases them/gets suggestive abt it to fluster them? if not that’s totally cool and I hope u have a good day! tyy :)

I have a Starscream x Reader x Megatron piece in the drafts, but I've been meaning to write an individual Starscream piece for a while now, so thank you for this request! Also really into smug Starscream with a shy s/o, perfect dynamic. So yeah, here it is, hope you enjoy!

The first time you meet Starscream is when you’re on earth. You’re a part of Optimus’s repair team along with him, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Ratchet, and Prowl; like Ratchet, you’re a medic, mainly tagging along to do both space bridge repairs and fix up any of the other bots’ injuries. During that first fight over the All Spark on earth, you don’t really get to interact with Starscream in full, but you do meet him briefly and are too panicked over your first actual battle (since you’re just, you know, a repair bot/medic and not a full blown soldier; most you had was some cadet training like Bulkhead and Bumblebee) to think much of him.

But then, you interact with him the next few times, and uh... It’s bad. You notice immediately that he’s physically attractive; tall, sleek build pretty paint-job, a scratchy but charming voice and way of talking, strong servos but long pretty digits and slender legs, glowing vermillion optics that feel like they’re peering into your soul... Yeah, it’s over for you. You’ve never really had the time for relationships with work and everything, so you don’t have any experience and are horrid at hiding the little crush that you quickly develop.

It’s horrible. Any time Starscream is present during battles, you get flustered and fumble over yourself. You can’t fight him and can’t fight anyone else when he’s within eye/ear-shot, so you’re usually in charge of helping evacuate humans or dealing with Blitzwing/Lugnut etc. 

Starscream, of course, notices it. He’s an older and well-seasoned bot, and though it’s very rare that anyone is actually interested in him, he’s seen enough relationships in his day to be able to pick up on a crush. His natural reaction, out loud, is “HAHA, of course you have a crush on the GLORIOUS, GORGEOUS Starscream! Why, it only makes sense that I’ve charmed such a pretty little Autobot without even trying, who could resist my charm?”. On the inside... He’s seriously flattered. You’re beautiful, you’re cute, from the glimpses he’s gotten, he likes your personality, and he thinks you’re just... Very good. However, he doesn’t really pursue a relationship with you at first as you seem rather righteous and he is rather devious. He won’t admit it, but he likes you too much to cause you any trouble with the other Autobots. He’s just happy that you like him so much.

It turns into a lot of teasing during battles and gets to a point where Starscream will purposefully pick fights with the Autobots just to see/spar with you, with no actual damage happening.

“Oh, my, if it isn’t my not-so-secret admirer again! Why don’t you try to take me down without the help of your friends this time?”

He likes touching you as much as he can in a rather fleeting manner; servos over your lower back, on your hands, face in your face, optics locked with yours, etc. He’s just very touch-starved and enthusiastic about the fact that someone is interested in him, but he won’t admit it. 

The other Autobots find it pretty humorous or are annoyed by it. Ratchet and Prowl roll their eyes at it and don’t get what you see in him, Bulkhead just feels bad for you, Optimus is very confused but always reminds you of the fact that he’s there for you if you ever want to vent about your “unfortunate circumstances”, and Bumblebee isn’t above trying to set you up with Starscream/making you two interact with each other whenever the opportunity arises because he thinks it’s cute/funny.

Eventually, things get a little less light-hearted when Megatron gets his body back and hires Lockdown to kidnap you. The main reason is that even though Megatron and his Decepticons usually do a great job of beating the hell out of the Autobots, you’re always there to fix them up, and that’s very inconvenient to him personally. So, Lockdown kidnaps you and takes you to Megatron, only for Starscream to... Come rescue you from the cell you’re locked in during the night?

You’re just sitting there, waiting for an Autobot when Starscream bursts into the room; “Why, if it isn’t my admirer, waiting for me to come rescue them.”

“Um... Starscream? What are you doing here?”

“What do you think, you glitch? Rescuing you, now quiet down before Megatron catches us!”

You’re super confused, unsure if Starscream has had a processor injury or if he has some other more devious plan with you, but he breaks you out of your cage and allows you to climb on his back so he can give you a piggy back ride until you’re out of the cave and in an open enough area for him to transform into his seeker mode, only to get caught by Megatron and Megatron alone while the others are recharging.

The two break out into an argument, fighting while you’re still on Starscream’s back; you’re trying to assist your crush by blasting Megatron from your position despite being decently injured from your battle with Lockdown, which is honestly the only reason Starscream is managing against the much more powerful Decepticon. You two work... Surprisingly well together, and in the midst of the argument, Megatron is spewing insults, calling Starscream incompetent, foolish, stupid, a failure, etc. 

Naturally, despite your shy nature, you hate hearing Starscream insulted as you’ve developed a weird sort of attachment to him, so you fire back; “Hey, he isn’t any of that! I know you don’t realize it because you’re an evil bastard, b-but he’s trying his best, and he has better ideas than you do- wasn’t he the one who blew you up?”

Megatron gets so angry that Starscream manages to escape with you, and he transforms into his vehicle mode with you riding in his cockpit... Ha.

Anyways, the two of you fly back to your base around the time that the sun is rising, but by the time you get there and Starscream transforms back into his robot form, you notice that Megatron beat him pretty bad and- oh, Primus, he’s unconscious. Yeah... 

Against your better judgement, you fix him up the best you can outside behind your teammates backs, knowing that if you brought him back to Ratchet, he’d be getting repaired while in stasis cuffs and then sent back with the Elite Guard to be imprisoned on Cybertron.

You sneak off into the forest and wait for him to wake up... Only for him to pull you into a heated kiss the second he does, thank you for being his “knight in shining armor”, and then transforming and flying away.

You return to base a shaking, blushing mess, and when asked about what happened, you tell your teammates (of which only a few are there, since the others are out looking for you); after Lockdown took you, Starscream came to rescue you, dropped you off by the base, and flew away, leaving out the part where you could have captured him. Ratchet fixes you up and gets onto you for “being smitten with such a troublesome mech”. 

And from there forms a beautiful relationship of you and Starscream pretending to be against each other in public the best you can despite your blatant crushes, with Starscream always teasing you and you being too shy to rebut, but secretly helping each other and sneaking off to meet up whenever you can. 

[miss-tc-nova]

All Flustered - Young Xehanort x Fem!Reader

Ah, this, ladies and gentlemen, is a reader after my own heart! Yes, Eraqus is definitely my fluff motivator while I tend to write angst for Xehanort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him! And you can bet your ass I postponed finishing ‘A SOLDIER’s Memories’ to write this!

Hope this is what you were looking for Anon. 

~~~~~

               I hum to myself, checking over the assignment from last night. The morning sunlight streams in through the classroom window, providing the perfect amount of light and warmth while I enjoy my peaceful moment. Once class starts, I’ll have Tardy Fleetfoot, Smarmy Fluffcoat, and Haughty Swaggerstep to deal with, names courtesy of Tardy himself. They aren’t bad people; none of my classmates are, but peace is certainly a rarity once those three are involved.

               “Do you ever leave this room?”

               Ah, peace is over.

               I pull my gaze from the text to find two of the rabble-rouser trio, Eraqus and Xehanort. The shorter male leans in to take a look at my work. “You’re not done yet? That’s not like the top student.”

               “I finished last night. I was just double checking it,” I reply.

               “Oh. Let me see what answers you got.” Without asking, Eraqus takes my paper and wanders off with it.

               I sigh and start packing up my things, very much aware that Xehanort is still standing there watching me.

               “Seriously, do you ever leave this room outside of keyblade training?” he repeats.

               My ears burn and I only spare him a glance. Xehanort had only joined our class a couple years ago but quickly matched our ranks. There’s hardly a subject he has trouble with and his drive is incredible, though apparently that doesn’t mean he’s above teasing others. He plays indifferent but it’s pretty obvious his classmates have become his friends. He’s smart and confident and strong and I have the biggest crush on him.

               I don’t know what happened. I’d been asked to help catch him up on our curriculum but he refused my help and did it himself in just a few months. As time went on and we had our interactions, I couldn’t help noticing that inspiring confidence and the spark in his eyes at a challenge. There’s just some sort of charm there that has me smitten beyond my control. It’s a terrible distraction in class sometimes.

               But I could never let him know. I prefer observation, letting the others hold most of the attention during class. By nature, that makes me a bit more introverted. Xehanort, on the other hand, is definitely not afraid to speak his mind. Not only would he very likely turn me down in a heartbeat, but the entire class would hear about it. Bragi and Vor might tease me for a while but even after that’s subsided everything would be miserably awkward. That’s one hell I’d like to steer clear of in this lifetime.

               “Yes,” I answer simply. “I just like to get here early. It’s peaceful.”

               “How the heck did I get the number twelve as the second tier ice spell?!” Eraqus exclaims from the table.

               Xehanort raises a brow at his best friend and I can’t help giggling. “Well it was.”

               I collect my things from the window bench and move to the table. Before long, the first class of the day starts.

~~~~~

               “How was that?”

               I drop my shield and give my go-to partner, Hermod, a thumbs-up. “That was great.”

               He looks to his boots. “I think my stance was a bit off.”

               “Well why don’t you give it another go?”

               “Okay.” Hermod and I set up once again but just as he prepares to rush me, we’re interrupted.

               “Excuse me, you two.” We glance back to find Master Odin approaching with Eraqus and Xehanort. “I know you prefer working together, but I need you to work with these two and help them with the new technique.”

               “Uh, yes sir,” Hermod responds dutifully.

               Oh no…

               “Thank you.” With that, the Master ushers Hermod and Eraqus away, leaving me to work with Xehanort.

               Crap!

               Xehanort folds his arms and huffs. “Guess it was a matter of time before we got in over our heads.”

               Trying to ignore the nerves working in my chest, I tilt my head. “You normally pick up keyblade work very quickly without any help.”

               “Yeah, well this one’s not very useful,” he grumbles.

               It’s not very common to see Xehanort perturbed so this is fairly interesting. Still, I know he’s determined so I’ll help him out any way I can.

               “I’m sure you’ll catch on soon enough,” I encourage, insides freezing at the skeptical glare. “Come on. Show me what you’ve got so far.”

               It gives me some joy to have Xehanort flip his opinion on the technique once I’ve sorted out exactly where his problem lies. Soon, he’s on the verge of destroying my shield rather than bouncing off it. At his insistence, we move on to practical application while sparring and he’s certainly got me on the ropes.

               Until disaster strikes.

               My foot catches on an uneven stone and I hit the ground. It’s too late for my opponent to halt his attack and Xehanort ends up tripping over me. I wait for the collision but it’s not nearly as squishing as I’m expecting.

               “Are you okay?”

               Eyes snapping open, I suddenly feel as if I’ve been lit on fire. He may not have been able to stop his fall but Xehanort managed to catch himself and prevent himself from crushing me. He’s still far too close for comfort though.

               Out of desperation to remove myself from the situation, I shove him off me and sit up. “Yeah! I’m fine!” I say, quickly standing and brushing the dirt from my pants. I’m terrified to look at him, terrified that my burning face will betray me. “S-Sorry!” My saving grace comes in the tolling bell. “Oh thank gods!” I breathe, scurrying back into the castle.

               It takes me ages to push the event out of my head. My diversion tactic is the usual: dive head first into my studying. I sneak away to the library which also happens to have a very cozy little window seat. As I settle in, it’s knowledge that washes away my anxieties and consumes the remainder of my day.

               “So you do leave the classroom.”

               Heart stops and blood runs cold. No. He’s not… My eyes flash to the figure strolling along the bookshelves. There’s an all-knowing smile on his lips and the way he approaches is reminiscent of a predator whose prey has zero escapes. He is!

               “Xehanort,” I manage to utter, closing my book. “What are you doing here?”

               “This is a library,” he replies lightly. “Can’t I come to study just like you?” I bite back my response. “But you’re smart enough to know that’s not true aren’t you. So I’ll get to the point: you weren’t at dinner.”

               He’s right. I’d been so focused in trying to push him out of my head that I completely forgot about eating. It had gotten so late, only the bright moonlight from the window was what allowed me to continue reading. “Oh…I completely forgot. I was so busy studying I-”

               “Why are you avoiding me?”

               Without even a minute change in his predatory expression, Xehanort takes another step closer and my body reactively shrinks back. The blood is flowing again and I can’t maintain eye contact.

               “Interesting. Our class’s top student, scared of me?”

               “N-No,” I stammer.

               Clearly entertained, he leans closer. “Then what’s wrong?”

               Snatching up my books, I stand. “I need to go.”

               One step into my flight, a hand takes my arm. I let out a squeak of a gasp when my back meets the wall. There’s a thump right above my head. I keep my eyes clamped shut because I know what meets me should they open; I can feel the warmth coming from him—that’s how close he is. Even more, I don’t even have to look to witness the sheer gratification rolling off him. There’s no doubt he’s enjoying this.

               “What’s wrong?” his smooth voice hums. The mint toothpaste on his breath ghosts across my cheeks.

               “Th-This isn’t funny.” I curse myself for stuttering, but I swear my heart is beating so hard that’s why my voice shakes.

               “Of course it’s not.”

               I finally persuade myself to peek and it was a mistake. His face is only centimeters away, those dazzling argent eyes capturing mine. I can’t look away but the wall won’t let me through.

               “Don’t get me wrong, I take pride in eliciting this sort of reaction from you, but this isn’t a joke.” I can hear the pleased smile in his words but my gaze is still glued to his. I’d never noticed the alluring flecks of deep silver dappled among sterling in those eyes before.

               Not the time for that! It takes so much effort to keep my breath from shuddering. “Then why are you doing this?” I whisper.

               “I’ll admit you’re very subtle, at least until you’re caught off guard. Then you’re very easy to read. I’m impressed you kept your little secret hidden for so long; not even Urd or Vor knew.”

               “No,” I breathe, knowing I’ve been found out.

               “Oh yes. And I’m flattered, really.”

               “Oh no.” I can feel the constriction in my chest and I’m praying to wake up from this dream.

               “Don’t get me wrong.” His finger under my chin forces my face up. “You’re very pretty but above that, you’re smart and quite the little sweetheart too, huh?”

               Feeling vulnerable and stepped on, I mutter, “Would you just get it over with?”

               His eyes almost glow in the illumination of the moon. “Alright.”

               Time stops, or perhaps that’s just my brain. It only took a slight dip of his head and Xehanort’s got his lips to mine. Due to the earlier mentioned problem of brain not working, I don’t resist his lead, falling further and further under his spell with each move. The fog in my head descends into my chest, dissipating that heavy sinking of dread, replacing it with a weightless euphoria I couldn’t have imagined.

               Xehanort breaks away but my lips chase his without my consent, stealing another kiss. When I realize what I’m doing, I pull back as far as the wall will let me, embarrassment blazing across my skin.

               “I’m so sorry,” I apologize in a whisper.

               His chuckle rattles my fragile grip on stability. “Don’t be.” My inhale comes staggered when his fingers slide into my hair. Speaking in the low voice that makes my knees weak, he murmurs, “I very much enjoy seeing how you react to me.” It takes everything I have not to lunge at him when his lips barely graze mine as he continues. “I look forward to seeing just what other reactions I can get from you.”

               “What do you mean?”

               “Saturday, I’m taking you to that founding festival coming up. Sound like a plan?”

               I can’t tell if I’m trembling or not, but I manage a steady answer. “Yes.”

               “Good.” Finally he relents and gives me a third kiss but it’s far more casual and relaxed—I still want more.

               The boy breaks away from me, clearly amused at the shaken state he’s left me in. Clinging to the books against my chest, I glance away.

               “You really are cute, you know that?” It’s in a teasing tone but I can tell that he means it. I have no answer to that but my stomach apparently does and I’d like to just die now. Xehanort laughs. “Come on. I bet we can sneak something from the kitchen before they lock everything down.”

               I gasp quietly when he takes my hand and leads me away in confidence. Before we even make it out of the library, I’m smiling away like a love struck fool.

~~~~~

               I’m running a bit late today. My dumb brain wouldn’t let me sleep last night, replaying my moonlight kiss over and over; I’m pretty sure I even dreamt of it. Then I’m afraid that I actually dreamt it.

               Turning the corner, just before I enter the class, I can hear people talking. Xehanort’s in there, talking about me.

               “So I’m taking her to that festival on Saturday.”

               “There’s no way our shy little smarty is going on a date with you,” argues Urd.

               “It’s true. Had her like putty in my hands after just one kiss.” That brings a frown to my face; it’s true of course but he didn’t need to tell everyone.

               Eraqus exclaims, “Wait, you kissed her?!”

               “Yeah,” he laughs. “She’s cute when she’s all flustered.”

               He’d gotten the better of me last night and, while I very much enjoyed it, I won’t go on without it being known that I can be bold too.

               Steeling my nerves, I stalk towards the offender. Silver eyes fly wide open when I snatch fistfuls of his black jacket. With a sharp tug, I pull the boy around. His arms grasp at me as I dip him beneath me and jam my lips against his. For a brief moment, I consider taking advantage of his shock and basking in this feeling of dominance I’m sure will be rare in our relationship. However, seeing as we have an audience, I release my captive and right his posture. Pride and absolute delight fill my chest at the sight of Xehanort’s bright red face and shock.

               “I-um-uh-I-” he stammers, truly at a loss for words.

               “Yeah,” I say, beaming at my friends. “He’s cute when he’s all flustered.”

[feministshawnmendes]

Coffee & Flowers - PT. 2

“He’d had the butterflies, the warmth in his belly, the feeling of holding onto star dust that tickled the tips of his fingers and the bottoms of his feet. But he’d never felt it all so quickly, so naturally”

A/N - Here’s a little playlist of some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to listen as you read. roses & sunflowers - timmy albert. easy - mac ayres. break my heart right - james bay. dried blood - corey harper.

* I accidentally deleted this while trying to edit it so my dumb-ass is uploading it aaaaagain. i stay drinking dumb bitch juice i guess. I’m sorry 

 Part one 

____

She expected to run into him eventually. She just figured it’d be somewhere else. Somewhere more crowded where she could say hi quickly or even just wave and slip away in a rush. But she’s not so fortunate and she can’t help but wonder if God’s playing some kind of joke on her, seeing him for the first time in nearly a year in a coffee shop feels like too much of a coincidence. Of course, he draws a crowd as eager fans congregate and watch him from across the street through the large glass windows. He glides in like he always does, a smile playing on his face, his cheeks pink from the cold air. He looks good. He always does. He’s wearing a cozy looking black sweater and a black scarf, his hair perfectly put together. Of all the coffee shops for Shawn to stop in, she can’t believe he walked into the same one.

Her cheeks instantly burn and her breath quickens as she looks down at the coffee in front of her, trying to figure out if she can plot a quick and sneaky escape. But it’s too late. Her eyes lift up and as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, his eyes meet hers. She doesn’t ignore the way her stomach fills with a pang, her throat tightening. Shawn’s smile falters, his eyes narrowing as his brain tries to process what’s happening. Of all the places he thought he could run into her, this tiny coffee shop in the middle of New York would not have been his first guess. Of course, the very sight of her sparks a flutter in his chest and he can’t seem to will his brain to do anything besides stare at her, his heart racing. She looks perfect, like always. Her hair’s pulled back in a low ponytail and she’s bundled up in a black knit sweater and grey scarf.

“Holy shit! Y/n???” Brian bellows, his mouth open in shock as he spots her from across the room, pulling Shawn out of the trance he’s in. Before Shawn can stop him from causing too much of a commotion, Brian practically bolts towards y/n, who now has a bright smile plastered across her face as she watches Brian move towards her. She gets up from the seat she’s in, laughing as Brian rushes towards her. He scoops her up into a death grip of a hug once he reaches her, holding her as close as possible.

“Nice to see you too, b” She laughs as he pulls away from her and holds her at arm's length, a huge smile spread onto his face. She shakes her head and laughs again as he gives her another hug.

“It’s been forever. I can break your one hug rule, eh?”

“Of course,” she chuckles, patting his back as she pulls away from him. She gulps nervously as her eyes shift and she notices Shawn and Andrew whispering to each other, both of them looking in her direction. She can’t believe it’s been over a year. Can’t believe that he’s only a few feet away from her, pressing his lips together and shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he stays in line with Andrew.

“I missed you, dude!” Brian says excitedly, patting y/n’s shoulder and pulling her into a side hug. “Team’s not the same without you”

“Mmm I’m sure it is though,” She smiles, setting her hand on Brian’s back and giving him a friendly pat.

“No it really isn’t,” He says as he pulls away. “We all miss you so much. Shawn really misses you. He won’t admit it but..”

She nods, smiling but letting her smile fall as she nervously pulls down the sleeves of her sweater. She figured Shawn told Brian about what happened between them. She would have been surprised if he hadn’t, especially because she had left so quickly without really much of an answer or explanation. Still, she can’t help but wonder what he told everyone. What he told Brian. Obviously nothing that made her look bad even though what she did wasn’t her best moment. But of course he didn’t say anything bad. It was Shawn.

“Did Shawn tell you what happened?” She asks even though asking goes against her better judgement. Brian nods lightly, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah,” He says slowly. “Well...he filled me in on the basics.”

“B, I didn’t-“ She starts, feeling her eyes sting but Brian shakes his head and cuts her off.

“It’s okay. Tell me about your new job!” He quickly changes the subject, making her smile return to her face. Her eyes travel back over to where Shawn and Andrew are, both of them grabbing their coffees that have been quickly made. Shawn lifts his head to take a drink, his eyes meeting hers. She quickly looks away, letting out a heavy sigh as she refocuses her attention on Brian, who has an excited smile on his face still. “It looks like you’re killing it from what I’ve see on Instagram. Vogue?? That’s crazy!”

“Yeah,” She breathes airily, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s exhausting and so much work but I love it. I love writing.”

“Have any model friends who are single?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making her laugh loudly as she shakes her head.

“Oh my god,” She laughs, noticing Shawn and Andrew are looking in their direction, Shawn’s dark eyes locked with y/n’s as they move closer to where her and Brian are standing. She can’t help but think about how stupid she was. How she’d hurt him so he didn’t hurt her. How she’d left with as vague a reason as she could think of. Her reason for leaving was true but it was also an excuse for her to run. She was scared. Scared how after she’d left his arms that night, after he’d kissed her one last time, how good it felt for mere minutes before the same feelings of loneliness crept back in. Watching him walk over towards her feels dramatic in every way and she hates it. She hates how it makes her feel small and unsure to feel his eyes on her. She hates how predictable it is that she’s trying not to cry and trying to hold it all together like always. She hates how when he’s in front of her, a bright but forced smile working it’s way onto his lips, she can’t do much besides try to steady her breathing that has quickened drastically, her chest tightening.

“Hey honey,” He says smoothly, his eyes dancing across her face as she smiles gently, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hey it’s good to see you two,” she says gently, smiling at Andrew who pulls her into a side hug, squeezing her lightly.

“We miss you so much, y/n” He says as she smiles up at him, a smile of his own on his face. “I’m so proud of you. I’ve read your stuff for Vogue. It’s amazing. The article you did with Kanye was awesome”

“Wow thanks, Andrew” she breaths, her cheeks becoming warm as she feels Shawn’s eyes on her still. She notices how he doesn’t hug her. How his eyes are glued to her but how he keeps his distance, standing behind Brian, his grip tight on his coffee cup. She was hurt. She didn’t want to pretend like she wasn’t but as she watched his eyes fall down as he rubbed the back of his neck, she knew he was trying to pretend like he wasn’t hurt too.

“Thank you for being a reference for me by the way,” She smiles. “It means a lot. I feel like I wouldn’t have gotten the job without you.”

“Don’t say that,” he laughs, shaking his head dismissively. “It helps to have connections but you’re amazing. You got the job because you work hard and are good at what you do.”

“Thanks that’s sweet, really” She breaths “What are you guys doing here by the way? In New York I mean?”

“Doing a couple press things and then spending some time in the studio,” Brian answers, trying to nudge Shawn as slyly as possible, y/n’s attentive eyes catching the small interaction. Shawn lets out a large breath, lifting his head and nodding as he gives a tight lipped smile. Y/n doesn’t pretend to be okay with how cold he was being, her stare equally as cold as she looks back at him. She’d grown tired of always pretending and she’d happily exchange pleasantries but she wasn’t willing to pretend like she wasn’t hurt. Shawn’s cold eyes gaze deep into hers and she wants to try to explain herself but she also knows he isn’t entitled to know everything. Yes she’d hurt him and yes she’d made a spur of the moment decision but she did it for herself and she was happy now. She had hoped he’d be able to see that and that seeing her happy might be enough but apparently she was wrong.

“Fun,” she nods. “Are you just staying for the night?”

“Shawn wanted to stay in Brooklyn for a couple of days but we’ll see,” Andrew smiles.

“Well if you need any restaurant or coffee recommendations let me know,” y/n replies.

“I’ll text you if we stay!” Brian chirps happily, Shawn’s jaw clenching as he shook his head and wet his lips. Y/n’s throat tightened and her breath stuttered as she nodded. “Maybe we could meet up and hang out or something”

“Yeah for sure,” She answers, knowing that Shawn would never let that happen.

“We should probably get going but it was so good to see you, y/n. Let me know if you ever need anything, yeah? Don’t be a stranger,,” Andrew smiles, y/n nodding quickly before he pulled her into a hug, Brian doing the same thing shortly after.

He’d been keeping up with her social media as much as he hated to admit it. It wasn’t like he was going out of his way to look at what she was doing but he also wasn’t trying to ignore her like maybe he should have. He’d known she was working at Vogue. Knew she was writing. He’d read her words, despite his better judgement, wondering how she could string sentences together like it was the easiest thing in the world. She was an amazing writer, making him that much madder at her. It seemed like she was good at everything. Like everything but feeling came naturally to her. He’d seen her on social media but being close to her for the first time in so long, seeing her hurt expression as he closed himself off to her, made him contemplate the choices he’d made after she’d left. It made him wish he’d said something or done something differently. Watching her blink at him, an uneasy smile on her face makes him think about how she’d kissed him. How she’d wrapped her fingers around his wrists and kissed the tattoos that covered his skin. She’d made him feel good and warm and less alone and then she’d left.

Before she can comprehend what’s happening Shawn mumbles a goodbye to her, pausing as Andrew and Brian depart to join the rest of his team that’s waiting for them by the door. He looks at her, feeling like he’s inhaling hot air as his entire body heats up as she smiles at him and tilts her head, her eyes soft and a strand of hair falling down her face. He can’t stop the way his cheeks turn rosy and before he can convince himself not to, he’s right in front of her, his large hand sliding onto her waist and making her lips part as his breath hitches and his hands shake and his heart races. She doesn’t say anything as he presses his lips against her cheek, his touch lighting her entire body on fire, sending her reeling as he pulls away. His hand is still on her waist and she notices the way his Adam’s apple moves up and down along his throat as he gulps. She sucks in a large breath as he looks at her for a split second before he mumbles another goodbye and moves away from her.  

She’s still reeling from feeling his lips pressed against her skin, the places he’d touched her still burning as he exits quickly with his team. Her feet carry her back to her spot and she stares at the cup of coffee in front of her for longer than she thinks is probably normal. Feeling him sent her back to that night. Back to the night her boss had kissed her. It was wrong and completely unprofessional but she hadn’t cared. She’d let him do it and she had gladly kissed him back. As she takes a sip of her coffee she remembers how she’d asked him to stay with her, to just hold her for a little bit. He’d pulled her close, their legs tangled together. His skin against hers was so warm. She’d remembered how safe she felt. How comfortable it felt to feel his heavy breathing in her ear as she traced the tattoos on his skin. He’d kissed her so many times, pressing his lips against the back of her ear, kissing her fingers, letting his mouth press sweet kisses against her cheeks. She’d fucked it all up.

They’d only kissed and held each other, their bodies wrapped together as they mindlessly watched tv in y/n’s hotel room. She was the one who had asked him to keep her company and he’d happily obliged, kissing her and pulling her close as they hid away in her room. It all felt good and warm, a much needed change of pace from their regular routine. She’d gotten used to saying goodnight to him before going to her room by herself, trying to make herself not feel lonely as she scrolled aimlessly through Instagram and Twitter. He’d go back to his room and do the same thing, wondering if he’d feel less lonely if he had someone to love. Finally feeling a warm body pressed against his felt good, her fingers dancing across his face as she smiled up at him.

“I’m tired,” she whispered, her chin pressed against his chest as his fingers brushed through her hair. He smiled down at her as she lifted herself up slightly, moving closer to him as his hand fell from her hair. He hummed lightly as her leg slid against his as she snuggled deeper into him, her cheek pressing against his chest as she rubbed her face against the soft fabric of his shirt, a soft smile lighting up her face. He laughed, letting out a content sigh as she looked back up at him. His heart fluttered and she sucked the breath out of him just by looking at him, her thumb tracing patterns absentmindedly on his chest. Being with her had surprised him and had set off a fire inside his gut and had lit a warmth inside his chest, one that he’d grown addicted to in just a matter of hours.

He’d felt this way about people before, his stomach churning as she whispered something underneath her breath as she sat up a little and leaned into him, her soft lips pressing against his. He’d had the butterflies, the warmth in his belly, the feeling of holding onto star dust that tickled the tips of his fingers and the bottoms of his feet. But he’d never felt it all so quickly, so naturally. He knew he shouldn’t have felt it like he did. He barely knew anything about y/n. At least, not the way he wanted to. He wanted to hold her, to know what was going on in her head. He wanted to be let in on her secrets, make her feel okay.

“Did you hear me?” She laughed, pulling away from him and sitting up in her bed. Shawn groaned, shaking his head as he hid his rosy cheeks, burying his face in her lap as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She raked her fingers through his curls, smiling down at him as he buried himself deeper into her lap. “Shawn you eventually have to go to your own room.”

“Why?” He whined, clinging tighter to y/n which just made her shake her head.

“Because we’re traveling tomorrow and you have a show. You needa rest,” she said gently, a smile still resting on her face as he groaned and pulled away from her, sitting up next to her and crossing his arms over his chest like a child. She rolled her eyes, brushing a hand through her messy hair as she pushed herself off the bed. Shawn let out another groan as she walked over to where he was, grabbing onto his wrists and trying to will his large limbs to move as she tugged on his arms with all the force she could conjure up. She groaned as he smiled smugly at her, her forehead creasing as she yanked his arms towards her.

“Shawn come on,” She grunted, making him laugh as she tried with everything she had to get him to budge.

“Only if you can make me” He said with a teasing smile.

“Shawn!” She exclaimed with another tug, huffing angrily as she failed miserably. She jutted out her bottom lip in a pout, glaring at him as he laughed at her misfortune. He can’t help but think she’s the cutest human, her arms crossing over her chest as she looks at him angrily.

“Come here,” He whispered, reaching out for her, his hands finding her waist. He smiled as her expression softened and her hands fell to her side, a pout still on her face as he moved to the edge of the bed and pulled her into his lap. She rolled her eyes, still pouting as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He grabbed her face in both of his hands, squishing her cheeks together, making her laugh uncontrollably as she pushed him away. He loved when she laughed loudly, when she wasn’t trying to stop herself from making too much noise or worrying about people looking at her. She was always so worried about feeling too much, he could see it at times. The way she’d suck in a huge breath, her glazed over eyes always giving her away.

He’d felt it then. Watching her, his eyes locked on hers as she beamed happily at him, his breathing quickening yet again as she stared at him and tilted her head. He kissed her, moving so she was lying beneath him as he hovered above her, his lips moving gently against hers as she smiled against his kiss. She pushed him away, her hand staying pressed against his chest as he stared down at her, his eyes dark as she breathlessly furrowed her brow. She gulped as his eyes poured into hers, his face serious as he held his weight above her with one hand, the other reaching out to cup her face as he shook his head. He felt dizzy, so unsure but so certain at the same time as her lips parted as she let out an uneven breath. That’s when she knew. She’d seen it. The way he kissed her after that, his lips moving slowly against hers, the way he traced the outline of her jaw, his chest pressed against hers. The way his fingers slowly pressed into her warm skin, gentle yet eager. The way he’d kissed her two more times before she finally convinced him to go to bed, practically having to push him towards the door. The way he’d lovingly pressed kisses all over her face, making her scrunch her nose up before he placed another sweet kiss against her lips before he finally said Goodnight.

She saw it the next day. She felt it too. The way he looked at her with a smile that felt like it was just for her as they were waiting to check out of the hotel. The way he instinctively pressed his hand against the small of her back when they were stepping onto the tour bus. She’d felt it when the show was over that night and fresh from the stage he’d ran to her, pulling her close in the privacy of his dressing room, whispering against her lips before kissing her for the last time. She’d felt and seen how quickly Shawn had decided he wanted to be with her and it scared the shit out of her. It scared her how after he’d left the first night he’d kissed her, she still felt lonely. Still felt like she was trying too hard to be perfect. It scared her how easily he’d let himself feel everything he wanted to and it scared her that she couldn’t. She didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t want him to think she didn’t want the same thing he did because she did but she wasn’t ready to rush in, not the way he was. So she left.

The next time y/n sees him is even more unexpected than the last and at first she thinks she’s dreaming. Thinks she’s convincing herself a stranger is him, her drunken heart unguarded. But it’s not a stranger with an uncanny resemblance. It’s him and his face is pink, his forehead damp with sweat and his lips are turned into an easy grin. She’s by no means sober and she’s already warm but when she sees him she gets warmer, the little ball of fire in her belly growing as he feels her gaze on him and turns to look at her.

In some ways seeing him here shouldn’t be a surprise. Shawn has a lot of friends. A lot of female friends specifically who happen to be models. So why wouldn’t he be at the birthday party for one of them? Still, y/n is caught off guard when after hours of mingling and drinking she sees him. She wonders how long he’s been here. He looks like he’s been drinking but she never knows. He’s always flush and gets hot so easily.

If she was in anyway sober she’d ignore him. Especially because he had ignored her two months ago when she’d seen him in that coffee shop. She’d cried about it after she’d gotten home that day, wondering why she always messed everything up. Wishing she’d just told him the truth. Seeing him had hurt and the way he’d treated her had hurt her even more. So she should have ignored him. Should have made sure he didn’t hurt her again but her drunk brain wasn’t thinking too rationally.

Shawn notices the way she sways a little when someone softly bumps into her. Her eyes are more tired than they usually look and the way she lazily smiles at a man who slides past her clues him in. She’s definitely drunk. He wants to ignore her but he can’t this time. She’s pushing her way towards him, smiling happily and muttering “excuse me” to the strangers around her. The sight of her beaming face makes him feel comforted. Reminds him of the way she’d smiled that one night they’d kissed. He excuses himself from the conversation he’s been pulled into, brushing past people as he moves in her direction.

“Shawny boy!” She cheers when he’s close to her, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. He hesitates, her warm body pressing against his as his hands slide around her waist. She pulls away and smiles up at him, his face contorted in confusion as she giggles.

“Honey are you okay?” He asks in a concerned tone, her smile widening as she giggles again and reaches out to wrap her fingers around one of his wrists, her warm skin comforting him instantly. He knows she’s drunk. Noticing the way she freely giggles, the way she touches him without trying to control herself too much. He’s seen her drunk before. The few times she had decided to let loose on tour and drink a little always started and ended with her in a fit of giggles, freely giving away hugs and “I love you”s to everyone.  She seems free and unburdened and he knows it’s because the alcohol but he wishes she could be like this without it. More open, less rigid. He laughs lightly as she shakes her head and leans closer to him.

“I’m really drunk, Shawn” she says, thinking she’s whispering when she’s really not. Shawn nods, smiling down at her as she pulls her hand away.

“I can see that,” he laughs. “Who’d you come here with?”

“A boy,” she drags out, rolling her eyes. Shawn’s breath hitches as he nods slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d dated since she’d left. Had slept with people. Had kissed other people. But he’d been on his own for a while. None of the women he’d met had felt like her. He’d convinced himself that someone else could instantly make him feel good and warm like she had but they hadn’t. Somewhere in his mind he convinced himself that he’d call her or text her. He’d convinced himself that she could be his. That she’d be willing to try again. But maybe he was wrong.

“Oh,” He says slowly.

She tilts her head and notices the way his eyes shift and he shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. She smiles up at him, making him flutter his gaze down to her as she laughs and shakes her head. He gives her a weak smile, his eyes stinging. Again, in her sober state she wouldn’t have been so careless but she’s drunk and all she can think about is how hurt Shawn looks, both of them staring at each other. She doesn’t like it. Doesn’t think he should be frowning when he looks so good when he’s smiling. She grabs his face in her hands, his breath quickening as the warmth from her hands seeps into his skin. She tilts her head and smiles at him as she squishes his cheeks.

He wants to laugh, her sweet giggle filling his ears as she playfully presses her fingers against his face but he’s too hurt to pretend.

“Stop,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he wraps his fingers around her wrists and pushes her hands away from his face. He sighs, the smile falling from her face as he licks his dry lips, his chest tightening as his throat dries up. She wasn’t his, as much as he wished she was and she’d run when he’d wanted to be with her. He’d felt like she was meant to fit into his life, to be the person he’d needed but as soon as he’d decided he wanted to be hers, she’d broken his heart.

“Why are you sad?” She asks softly, her voice small as she pouts up at him. He lets out a frustrated breath, shaking his head again.

“Don’t do that,” He warns, making her furrow her eyebrows.

“Do what?”

“Come on,” he breathes.

“Shawn,” She says seriously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Didn’t you come here with someone?” He says, his gaze cutting through her as he narrows his eyes. She stares at him, her mouth open in shock. She doesn’t know what to say as he runs a hand through his messy hair and lets out a frustrated breath. She should just walk away and leave him alone for the rest of the night but the alcohol that’s coursing through her blood makes her stay. She does and says the dumbest thing she can as she laughs, her drunk giggly brain possessing her. Maybe she says it because things are getting too serious and she doesn’t want to do that with him. She wants to hear him laugh.

“Why. Are you jealous?” She says softly, tilting her head as a teasing smile works its way onto her face. She doesn’t know what compels her to say it and before she can even think about what she’s said, she watches Shawn’s eyes darken as he stares down at her, his eyes glazing over. She thought he’d think it was funny. They’d always been able to joke around before, their friendship never too serious. Sure Shawn shared things he was struggling with but they’d always been playful with each other. Obviously things were different now.

“Why would you say that?” He says, hurt washing over his face.

“I-I don’t know,” She whispers, regret and embarrassment instantly taking over as she backs away from him slightly. She gulps nervously, her warm face becoming even warmer. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Uh...it was good to see you. Sorry.”

“Y/n…” He starts, realizing he doesn’t know if or when he’ll see her again but she’s quick even in her tipsy state and she disappears into the crowd before he can stop her. It feels like she’s always on the move.

The rush Shawn feels after a show is unmatched with anything he’s ever felt before. The adrenaline that courses through his entire body after he jumps off stage, fans screaming their praises for him is a feeling he chases show after show and he’s never disappointed by their enthusiasm. The night after he kissed y/n is no different. He thanks as many people as he can, his heart pumping rapidly as a kilowatt smile braces his face, his heart fluttering when he thinks about seeing her and kissing her. He can’t contain his excitement, practically jumping from person to person in the front row before he bolts as quickly as he can past the stage and past Jake, who shakes his head as Shawn turns around and gives the stadium full of fans a wave before he runs to her. There are few things he can ever be sure of when they’re traveling but the rush after a show is one of them. Seeing her in his dressing room, waiting with a water bottle and snacks is another. But this time it feels different and he can’t help but laugh to himself as he runs to her, his fingertips tingling as he gets closer.

When he flung the door open that night she was sitting on the couch with a water bottle in hand, a smile lighting up her face the instant he saw her. He’d never felt so much so quickly with anyone before and that was a whole different kind of rush. One that took over his body as he closed the door behind him and rushed over to her, his breathing heavy as she stood up from her spot on the couch and laughed the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard.

“Hi rockstar,” She beamed at him, reaching up and brushing away the damp curl that had fallen in front of his eye. Her touch was like fire against his skin and the way it sped up his heart rate made him go insane. She tilted her head, smiling as she admired him. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

He shook his head, grabbing the bottle from her hand and setting it on the couch behind her. She laughed, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. She couldn’t deny it felt good. Shawn was so warm and sweet. Everything she’d ever wanted someone to be. But he’d also been able to see through her so easily. Something the guys she’d been with before hadn’t been able to do. With everyone she’d been with she’d felt like she’d had to be everything they wanted her to be. But with Shawn it felt different. Scary. He hummed gently as he brushed back the hair that was in her face, the two of them standing close and smiling at each other like complete idiots.

“I think you might be prettier,” He said gently, his fingers caressing her cheek sweetly. “Not by much of course but-“

“Oh my god you’re so annoying,” She groaned, playfully rolling her eyes, going to turn around. He grabbed her arm, pulling her back into him, a proud smirk playing on his face. He was so cute. She couldn’t resist letting him grab her face in his hands, his touch instantly comforting her and making her cheeks grow pink as he smiled down at her.

“I missed you,” He whispered, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.

“You saw me before the show, silly” She laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist.  

“I know but I haven’t gotten to hold you all day,” He groaned dramatically.

“Oh wow you poor baby,” She teased, smiling as she reached up and set her hand on his cheek, her thumb rubbing his smooth skin. He smiled like a little puppy, his eyes closing as he leaned into her, rubbing his nose against hers. She laughed, her hot breath hitting his lips as her fingers pushed themselves into his hair, his curls still damp with sweat from jumping around on stage. She played with a strand of hair near the back of his neck, his nose brushing against her cheek as he  pressed a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“I think you’re my favorite person,” He whispered, his hot breath sending a shiver down her spine as it hit her lips. She gulped, his eyes connected with hers as he pulled away slightly to look at her. She let out an airy laugh, shaking her head.

“I really doubt that” She answered, her fingers traveling from his neck and down his arm before gently wrapping around his wrist. He pulled his wrist out of her grasp, pushing her palm open and lacing her fingers with his.

“Can I say you’re my favorite person to kiss?” He countered, a child-like smile on his face. She shrugged, biting down on her bottom lip as he leaned into her and rubbed his nose against hers once again. She let out another sweet laugh that made his insides warm, her palm pressed against his feeling like it’d finally found its home.

“Sure Mendes” She whispered, giggling right before he pressed his lips against hers, both of them holding onto each other as tightly as they could and kissing each other as much as they could before they were interrupted.

It’s been another three months and she can’t stop thinking about the voicemail on her phone. She’s listened to it more times than she can count, knowing she should probably just delete it. She told herself when she saw it the morning after running into him that she wouldn’t listen to it and she hadn’t for a solid twelve hours before she finally caved in. She wishes she hadn’t, the sound of his slurred and sloppy words replaying over and over again in her head. When she felt lonely she’d listen to it and laugh, the sound of his smooth giggle instantly comforting her. That part was good but it was the end that made her heart swell.

“I know you don’t wanna be with me,” He’d said drunkenly, the hurt in his voice evident. “And I don’t want to sound like too much of a drunk idiot but I think you’re it. I- I think you’re meant to be mine and my heart is yours, honey. Ohhhh it’s yours. S-hit I gotta go. Brian’s yelling at me. I’m hanging up Brian shut your fu-“

She was going to call him. Or text him. Or maybe even hit him up on instagram. She swore she was but she never could figure out what to say or how to say it. She didn’t even know if he remembered calling her and she really didn’t know if he remembered professing his feelings via voicemail. So she can’t help but think it’s not by chance that she sees him again. It can’t be random that even though she keeps running from him, they keep bumping into each other. She especially thinks it’s fate nudging him towards her because she’d almost stayed home but her friends had convinced her last minute to go out with them. She’d begrudgingly put on a black silk dress and heels, her hair pulled back in a low ponytail and hopped in a taxi with them to some random club that was full of supermodels and New York’s finest.

“One of the bartenders just told me Shawn Mendes is here!” Her roommate Kit had exclaimed after they’d been dancing for a solid hour, y/n’s feet tingling with nerves, her heart thumping violently in her chest. She hadn’t really told any of her new friends or coworkers that she’d worked for Shawn. A quick google search would have done the trick if they really were curious about what she’d done prior to working for Vogue but she knew no one found her interesting enough to do so. She tries not to look for him. Tries not to wonder where in the crowded room he is and what he’s getting up to but it’s hard to concentrate on anything else as she dances with her friends. She’d been so stupid so many times. She tried not to miss him. Tried not to think about how she’d stupidly told him that she’d been with a guy that night at the party. Yeah, she’d showed up with a guy that her friend had set her up with but hours into the party he’d ditched y/n and found a supermodel to make out with. She should have said that instead of trying to make him jealous. His heart was hers. He’d said it himself. Yet, she kept trying to pretend like she wasn’t ready. Maybe at first she wasn’t.

“Why the FUCK is Shawn motherfucking Mendes looking at you like that?” She hears a shrill voice shout next to her, making her heart skip a beat as her gaze follows Kit’s. Sure enough, Shawn’s only a couple feet away, his eyes locked on y/n as the people around him jump up and down, Brian who’s next to him squeezing his shoulders excitedly. She hates how seeing him always catches her off guard, her breath catching in her throat as his eyes roam up and down her body, his lips parted as he takes her in.

He’d been really drunk that night he’d called her. After she’d left he’d drank way too much and after getting back to his hotel room, he’d stupidly decided to call her. He knows he left her a voicemail but he’s not sure exactly what he said. Something about how badly he wanted her which wasn’t untrue. As his eyes scan her body, her skin glowing underneath the shitty club lighting, her sparkling eyes meeting his, he feels his entire body grow warm. He’s staring and he knows it, the girls around y/n giggling and nudging her as he runs a hand through his hair and coughs, trying to figure out how to get closer to her so he can pull her aside. All he wants is her and seeing how beautiful she looks in the silk dress she’s wearing, he wants her even more. Even if it’s just for a night.

“SHAWNY! IT’S OUR GIRL!” Brian practically screams when he notices what - or who - has captured his best friend’s attention. Shawn shakes his head, the collection of friends that he’s with looking in the direction that Brian’s pointing in. Brian waves y/n over excitedly, jumping up and down as she flashes a coy smile and gestures for her friends to follow. Like always, once y/n has made her way over to them Brian wraps her into a big hug and squeezes her tightly, shouting in her ear how happy he is to see her before quickly introducing himself to Kit and the other model friends that she’s with. Y/n takes the time to hug Shawn’s friends, who all excitedly pull her close and like Brian shout into her ear about how happy they are to see her. Working for Shawn was fun, especially because they were close in age and he had a slew of really cool and really fun friends who had taken an instant liking to her.

“You look so fucking hot! Wow!” Paula practically screams in her ear, making y/n laugh as she shakes her head.

“What are you talking about? You’re ten times hotter!” She shouts back, a smile taking over her face as Paula rolls her eyes teasingly.

“Shut up! You’re absolutely gorgeous,” She smiles, pulling y/n in for another hug and squeezing her tightly before she mumbles something about needing another drink, disappearing into the crowd. It’s crowded, lots of cameras and lights flashing as music bumps through a million speakers that adorn the walls. There are people everywhere, lots of them taking photos and videos of Shawn who is now pushing past Brian and making his way over to y/n.

He tries to contain himself. All he wants is to kiss her and hold her. Maybe it’s the alcohol that has him feeling a little bit freer than normal, willing to get his heart broken if it means she’ll at least just let him kiss her one last time. But he knows even sober he’d want her, the way she moves closer to him as he carefully reaches for her fingertips making his heart flutter. She slides her hand into his, the feeling sending electricity through her entire body as he gently pulls her close to him, sweaty bodies bumping into hers. He shouldn’t be holding her like he is, his free hand sliding against the smooth silk fabric of her dress as he grabs her waist and pulls her into him. She can barely breath, the bottoms of her feet tingling as her stomach flips upside down. His hot breath hits her ear as he leans into her, her fingers wrapping around his arm. He knows there’ll be pictures tomorrow of them circulating online and normally he’d care but in that moment he doesn’t, intoxicated by the way after all this time she still smells like sugar and coconut.

“You look beautiful,” He whispers, his lips purposefully brushing against her ear. She shivers. Actually shivers, his hands falling away from her as he pulls away, his eyes dark and swimming with admiration as he looks down at her with the most beautiful smile she’s ever seen. She lets out a rigged breath, licking her dry lips as his eyes dart down to her mouth.

“Yeah?” She says sheepishly, an easy smile working it’s way onto her face. Shawn nods, gulping as he tears his eyes away from her lips and meets her gaze.

“Yeah,” He says gently, a blush instantly creeping up onto her face. He wants to reach out and rub her cheek but there’s too many people. Too many eyes already on them. All he wants is her, his fingertips tingling to reach out and touch her. He can see that she wants the same thing, her eyes locked on his, a shy smile on her face as she moves closer to him. He lets out a heavy breath, his eyes dancing across her face. It’s moments like this where Shawn wishes for anonymity. If he wasn’t Shawn Mendes nobody would care about two twenty-somethings kissing in a random club and he could just pull her close and dance with her and maybe kiss her if she would let him and tell her he’s sorry for being stupid. For not just telling her that all he wants is her. He’s feeling bold and he knows Andrew is absolutely going to kick his ass tomorrow but she keeps staring at him and his heart keeps fluttering, his entire body warm as she smiles up at him. He slides his hand into hers, lacing their fingers together. It’s the best feeling in the world and it feels like home, the way her palm presses into his. She can’t help but smile, Shawn’s thumb caressing the top of her hand gently as he pulls her close to him.

“Come do a shot with me, kid!” Brian shouts suddenly, y/n and Shawn pulling away from each other quickly as Brian slides between them and throws his arm over y/n’s shoulder. She smiles up at him as she smooths down her hair that keeps trying to escape her ponytail.

“I think I’ve had enough,” She laughs. “Plus all the girls I came here with are really fucked up. I have to make sure they safely get into Ubers by the end of the night,”

“Boooo,” He pouts, making Shawn roll his eyes. “Shawn come take one with me.”

“I think I’m good too,” He answers.

“You guys are no fun!” Brian shouts, his hair damp and his face red. He’s clearly been drinking and having a good time, his once tucked in shirt now only halfway tucked in, his eyes red and lazy looking. Y/n can’t help but laugh and throw her arm over his shoulder.

“Wow, b. You seem like you’re having a shit time,” She teases, making him laugh and lean into her, his movements lazy and sloppy.

“The worstttt,” He drags out, earning another laugh from y/n. “By the way. Your friend Kit…”

“Absolutely not,” y/n interjects with a laugh. “I am not setting you up.”

“Well thanks,” Brian says sarcastically. “No I was gonna say she’s running off somewhere”

“What?” Y/n gasps, her eyes darting in the direction Brian’s pointing. It’s easy to spot Kit, her tall blonde figure towering over the people she’s pushing past quickly. Y/n curses underneath her breath, watching as Kit bursts into the bathroom. Y/n knows she’s no doubt emptying her stomach into a toilet bowl. As much as she loves her roommate, her crazy weekend antics were less than lovely. “Shit uh I gotta go but it was good seeing you two.”

She goes to leave, Brian’s arm falling off her shoulder as she turns around on her heels. A warmth wraps around her wrist and stops her in her tracks. Of course it’s Shawn. She can feel dozens of eyes on her and she can’t help but wonder why he’s being so bold. Why he’s throwing away all his normal protocol just for her. She knows there are going to be rumors tomorrow. She’d be naive to think there wouldn’t be. He shakes his head as he pulls her back quickly but gently, her heart beating in her ears as his eyes scan hers.

“When can I see you again?” He asks urgently as her eyes shift over to the bathroom.

“Uh…” she drags out, the way he’s pulling on her fingers as she tries to escape making her skin burn. She’s still fighting and she doesn’t know why. He pulls her closer, forcing her to look up at him as his pleading eyes pour into hers.

“Please,” He says gently, his thumb moving over the top of hers gently. He’s got her. She would have melted into him right there if it weren’t for the dozens of eyes on them.

“Tomorrow. Are you still going to be in New York?” She says gently, pulling her hand out of his. He nods. “I’ll text you my address. There’s a coffee shop in my apartment building we can maybe go to? I-I’m sorry I have to go, Shawn.”

“Hey,” He says softly, wrapping his hand around her wrist again and pulling her back before she can leave. He pulls her close and she swears she feels her heart skip a beat as his other hand slides against her cheek and cups her face gently. Her mind is racing, her thoughts swirling quickly. Why is he doing this? WHAT is he doing? Doesn’t he care that people are taking pictures? Videos? What is Andrew gonna think? Her lips part, a shallow breath escaping her mouth as his thumb skims across her cheek softly. “Text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe, eh?”

It’s the most unexpected yet sweetest thing he could have said and it makes her want to kiss him but she knows that’s too bold a move. She nods, a small smile playing on her face as he looks down at her, his soft eyes making her feet tingle. He smiles back at her, the way she squeezes his hand before leaving him making his cheeks grow warm. She practically whispers a goodbye, slipping away and into the crowd expertly, collecting her drunk group of friends before they all make their way to the bathroom. He doesn’t see her again, his friends pulling him back into their group and forcing him to dance and drink but all he can think about is her and tomorrow.

—-

News travels fast. It seems like it travels even faster when Shawn Mendes is involved, pictures of him and y/n circulating on all kinds of corners of the internet the next morning. Andrew has called Shawn twenty times, sent him countless texts and has left a string of voicemails on his phone but Shawn ignores them all. He knows he shouldn’t go see her and she even suggests potentially meeting up at a different date, letting the story of their night club encounter die down before risking another public sighting together. Y/n had been photographed several times with Shawn and most of his fans knew who she was but to most media outlets she was being written as “a mysterious brunette” who Shawn had met during a wild night in New York. She tries to convince him it’s not a good idea for them to meet up but he tells her it’s okay, says he wants to see her anyway if she’ll let him. So she says yes, caves into him even though she’s so unsure about everything.

She’s waiting for him in her apartment, sat on her couch with her arms wrapped around her legs as she presses them against her chest. Kit’s gone, having dragged herself out of bed for an early shoot. Her breathing is labored and her stomach is tight. She’d barely been able to sleep the night before, too consumed with replaying the way Shawn had looked at her and held her. She was so scared of letting go. Of letting herself get hurt again. She knew he would never intentionally hurt her but she couldn’t silence the voice in her head that was telling her that trusting anyone with her heart was too risky.

She’s going to text him and tell him not to come when she hears a knock on the door. She knows it’s him. She lets out a jagged breath, lifting herself off her couch as she makes her way over to the door. A bundle of nerves pushes its way up her throat and she has to swallow to steady her breathing as she opens the door. Her lips part in surprise when she sees him standing there with two iced coffees in his hand, his lips turning up into a sweet smile that lights her heart on fire as his eyes dance across her face. He’s so sweet it hurts.

“Thought you might be tired. You still like almond milk lattes?” He asks softly as he holds out one of the cups for her. She nods and smiles gently, her fingers brushing against his as she takes the coffee from him, the small amount of contact making her stomach grow warm.  

“Thank you,” She whispers, a shaky breath falling from her lips as he beams at her.

“It’s nothing,” He replies, his Adam’s apple moving up and down his throat as he swallows his nerves. Seeing her without the help of a little alcohol in his system makes his hands shake slightly and his breathing uneven as she looks up at him with her soft brown eyes.

Every time they’ve seen each other since she stopped working for him has been brief and now that it’s just them, both of them walking into her apartment and sitting down at the table in her dining room, he’s not quite sure how to stop his heart from pounding so rapidly that he feels like it’s going to give out. They both sit in silence for a while, taking occasional sips of their coffee as the wind from the busy New York Streets streams in through her open balcony door, the midday sun hitting the back of y/n’s shoulders.

“Um,” She gulps after they’ve both been quiet for too long, her fingers playing with the straw in her coffee cup. “I don’t want to make things...weird but uh I just- I wanted to apologize”

“A-Apologize for what?” He asks softly, his eyebrows furrowing as he leans forward a little, removing his hand from his coffee cup. Y/n lets out a loaded sigh, licking her dry lips as she continues to twirl the straw in her cup. Her face is warm and there feels like there’s a pit in her stomach. The familiar sting she’s used to ignoring makes her eyes glaze over.

“For hurting you,” She breaths, trying her best to manage her rapid heart rate. She swallows the lump in her throat, the feeling returning instantly. Shawn scoots his chair closer to her, shaking his head.

“Y/n,” He starts.

“No please,” She sighs. “Shawn you’re too good, sometimes. I know you were hurt when I just left. I-you’re so open with your heart. So vulnerable and honest. I-I’m not like that.”

“Why...why are you telling me this?”

“I-Do you remember calling me? After uh after I saw you at that party in Brooklyn?” She asks hesitantly, noticing the way that Shawn’s shoulder’s stiffen and he gulps nervously, his eyes avoiding hers as he nods gently.

“Do you remember what you said?” She whispers.

“I mean n-not exactly,” He breathes. “Something about how I missed you.”

“Shawn,” She starts, forcing a smile on her face as she tilts her head and tries to memorize the way he’s looking at her, his eyes swimming with so much longing that it makes her heart swell. She heaves a sigh, lips pressing together as she searches for the right words to say.

“Hey,” He whispers when she’s been quiet for too long, pools of tears threatening to force themselves out of her eyes as she looks down at her hands in her lap. She feels her chair move under her and when she looks up she sees Shawn’s eyes locked on hers as he holds onto the legs of her chair and pulls her close to him. Her body comes alive just by being close to him, his legs on either side of hers, his hand slipping onto the back of her knee as his thumb burns soothing patterns into her skin. It’s so easy. The way his skin feels against her makes her want to throw out any rules she’s created for herself but the knot in her throat fights against it.

“You said your heart is mine,” She stutters out, brows furrowing together as she stares back at him. His lips part, his heart bursting as she shakes her head and slides her hand against his arm as she leans into him. He’s shocked how every time she touches him it feels electric, every time he feels her skin against his, his body jolting to attention. He gulps nervously and nods, moving his hand so it’s pressed against the side of her thigh. She feels so warm. So good.

“You could have anybody you want,” She chokes out. “I-I’m not it, Shawn. I’m not. You deserve...everything and I can’t- I can’t give you what you deserve.”

“I don’t want anybody else,” He whispers, shaking his head, placing both of his hands on her thighs as he pulls her even closer, her chest moving up and down rapidly as she steadys her breathing. His touch comforts her, the bundle in her stomach slowly coming undone as his fingers rake up and down her thigh. And that scares her. The fact that feeling his index finger caress the apple of her warm cheek makes all her worries slowly melt away scares her, a jagged breath falling from her lips as he wraps his fingers around her wrist and lifts her hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips against the delicate skin on the inside of her wrist.

“It’s not that easy,” she huffs, gently pulling her hand out of his grasp, his eyes filling with confusion as she runs a hand through her messy hair.

“It could be,” He counters, pressing his legs against hers, trapping her in his grasp as he leans forward, elbows propped up on his knees. He shakes his head yet again, licking his lips as his eyes dance across her face. She stares down at him, her chest moving up and down rapidly. “I’m scared too. You know that, yeah?”

“I’m not-“ She starts.

“Yes you are,” He says firmly, watching as she folds her arms across her chest. The way she nervously bites down on her bottom lip and taps her foot against the floor, her knee knocking into his leg clues him in. He doesn’t want to force her into anything. Doesn’t want to pressure her if she’s not ready but he doesn’t know why she keeps fighting. Why she gives in one second and then pushes him away the next. But he also can’t wrap his mind around why she’s different. Why he keeps thinking about her. Wanting her. Missing her. He’d thought when he kissed her that he’d done it to make her feel better, to make himself feel less lonely, but here he was, over a year later. Absolutely waiting to fall all in with her. Maybe he’s crazy. Maybe he shouldn’t be placing all his cards on the table for a couple of nights spent with her. But it’s her and he can’t help but think maybe he’d been hers all along and he was too stupid to see it and he can’t help but hold on.

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” She says.

“I’m not asking you to be anything,” He replies. “My heart is yours, babe. Just as you are, it’s yours.”

The simplest of words shouldn’t soothe her worries like they do. She can’t help but exhale some of the fear that’s taken a hold of her breath, Shawn’s hot fingers nudging against hers as he pushes open her hand and laces his fingers with hers. That same familiar feeling blazes in her belly and a jagged breath falls from her lips as his other hand gently pushes itself against her cheek. He asks if it’s okay and she says yes, letting her fingers fall away from his as she slides her hand onto his thigh, squeezing it gently. She doesn’t know why she keeps fighting. She wants to be with him, the way his fingers press into her skin is the best feeling in the world, his eyes connected with hers sparking butterflies in her belly. His thumb finds the corner of her mouth, pressing against it gently before grazing over her bottom lip, sending shivers up and down her spine. She lets out an audible gasp when his thumb moves over her top lip, the corners of Shawn’s mouth tugging into a small smile. He shakes his head as he leans into her, his free hand pressing itself against her leg, her throat tightening as the contact burns her skin.

“Tell me it’s not mine,” He whispers, his thumb swiping against her bottom lip once again, the places he’s traced with his finger tingling. She furrows her brows, her grip on his thigh tightening as he moves closer to her.

“W-what?” She breathes, gulping nervously as he reaches up and sweetly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Tell me your heart’s not mine,” He replies, his voice so soft that it makes her insides turn into goo as both his hands find their way to her face, cupping her cheeks gently. The knot in her belly feels like it’s coming undone, giving way to a chorus of tingles as Shawn’s brown eyes pour into hers, the flicker she’d seen in his eyes that night in her hotel room returning. She’d run after that night because she thought she was scared of feeling lonely but watching as Shawn’s eyes fill with affection for her, watching him look through her and see exactly everything she’s trying to hide makes her realize she’d been scared of feeling like she wouldn’t be okay if she gave her heart away. But she’d spent the last year and a half trying to feel okay. Trying to feel more whole by herself and she did. So feeling Shawn’s leg press further into hers makes her stomach churn in a way it hasn’t before. Makes tingles shoot up and down her legs and arms as she leans closer into him, her hot breath purposefully fanning against his face. The knot in her stomach completely unravels as she reaches out a shaky hand and presses her fingers against Shawn’s chest gently. She’s done fighting. Done thinking she’s not good enough to be chosen when he’s right in front of her, willing to give himself to her. She smiles gently up at him, nudging his nose with hers as an uneven breath falls from his lips. She presses a fiery kiss against his lips, making his lips burn as she kisses him gently before pulling away.

“You know it’s yours.”

[fanfic-scribbles]

Dragon Princess

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: You don’t let anybody in easily. Steve doesn’t mind a challenge. Hopefully he also doesn’t mind getting his armor singed in the process.

Quick facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – female!disabled!Reader]

Warnings: Female pronouns for reader, reader uses a wheelchair, reader is a Grumpy Gus (with a heart of gold), some ableism

Special Disclaimer: Reader is in a (manual) wheelchair for an undisclosed disability. I don’t use a wheelchair myself, I just go behind one, so if anything I said is offensive then message me and I’ll try to edit it. I did my best but unconscious bias is a bitch and trips up even the best of us.

Words: 2903

A/N: I love. Writing grumpy characters. Who are secretly soft. Can’t stop won’t stop. Anywho; this didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted but I quite like certain parts of it, and I’ll never not love writing troll-Steve, especially with cranky reader-characters. It’s just fun.

    It has been a long day and you just want to go home. So it’s with no small amount of delight that you tear down the open space between bookshelves and tables and make a spectacular turn down the aisle you need– only to come to a complete and sudden stop.

That guy.

It’s a little harsh, but he’s standing right in front of the shelf you need. Captain America is a regular around here; so much a fixture that you can pinpoint the newbies and the visitors by how long they stare at him. Right now you stare a little too because, hey, you actually haven’t really interacted with him– it’s not like you have the time normally, but your co-workers won't shut up about how wonderful and nice the guy is. Nice, maybe. Easy on the eyes, certainly.

But not nicer than your bed and definitely not easier to look at than the inside of your eyelids.

You roll up next to him and find the spot where the book goes. Blocked by his thigh, of course. Grayson owes you big time for this ‘real quick favor.’

You clear your throat and steel yourself. “Excuse me.”

Captain Rogers blinks and looks down at you. Like he can’t fathom what you're doing here. You realize he’s zoned out just as a spark of life returns to his eyes. “Oh, um, can I help you with something?” he says. He then scans the upper shelves and looks down at you, meaningfully.

You sigh but temper yourself. “No, I know exactly where this goes.” You give him your brightest smile and hit the epic tome against your other hand. “On the shelf right above your kneecaps. Both of which happen to be at the perfect level.”

He jumps back and you’re able to slip the book right into its spot. He actually looks pretty amused. Since he’s a good sport about being threatened with a hardcover edition of “The Tale of Genji” (which might have to be registered with the state of New York as a deadly weapon, you’re not sure,) and since you’re only a week away from beating your record for number of days gone without a complaint, you sit back and say, “Since I’m here, is there anything I can help you with?”

“No ma’am, I’m just browsing. Thank you,” he says and goes back to staring at lettered spines, leaving you free to escape work for the day.

That went pretty well, all things considered.

~

It’s another long day when you come across Captain Rogers again. (Mr. Rogers? Captain America? Whatever.) You’re cleaning up the tables and he’s sitting at one, quietly reading. He’s got a small stack of nonfiction, the titles of which are all so boring that your eyes glaze right over them. As you get closer he raises his head and smiles at you. You’re not sure what your face does, but his lips twitch up against his best efforts and he looks caught between laughing and being concerned. “Sorry, did I do something…?”

“Other than be a nice guy to exactly the wrong person? No, you’re…fine. I guess,” you say. “If you want a smile you’ll have to go to the front desk; I’m the only one in this area.”

He laughs, which isn’t a half-bad sound. You roll your eyes and gesture at his stockpile of Boring Nonsense. “You done with any of those?”

“Yes,” he says and immediately puts two of them next to you. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you say, grab them, and leave him be.

For a while. He’s still working on something that makes him scowl like he’s going to start fighting it when you come back over and drop a book right next to him hard enough to make him jolt. You smile. It’s the little things, sometimes. You pat the cover. “This is my favorite piece of trash. It has dragons and swords and is basically the book version of the most terrible-wonderful fantasy movie you can imagine. Give your brain a break before it goes on strike.”

His smile broadens, and he pushes the other, actual trash away so he can put your beloved trash in its place. “Enjoy, Captain,” you say and start to turn.

“Steve,” he says as if instinctive. But then he looks at you. “If you don’t mind.”

You shrug, but since you’re trying to be polite you tell him your name before leaving him to read in peace.

~

“Can I ask you a question?”

That’s as good as a loaded gun, as far as you're concerned, but you’re in a marginally good mood today so you face Steve with as much patience as you can hold at any one time. “Yes?”

He frowns. “Do you…” He sighs. “This is so random, but do you have any recommendations for books on food?”

That’s…not what you expected. “Huh,” you say as you actually have to think through the card catalogue of your mind. “I guess, but I think I should ask Grayson about–” Steve’s face does something terrible that is also delightful. “You already asked him.”

“He has to be joking,” Steve says desperately.

You crack a smile, already aware of the sorts of things your more exuberant and…adventurous coworker likely said. “Some, yeah, but probably not all.” You think you know what Steve’s aiming for. “Hold that thought.”

“If it’s too much trouble you don’t have to–”

You shush him– this is a library after all– and continue on your mission. You have to wave off one of the volunteers at one point but you manage to retrieve the book you’re looking for. When you return, Steve is focused on his book again– the poor, trusting fool. Nobody else is around, so you take great pleasure in making it slam right next to him. This book being bigger makes a louder sound than the last– he jumps, you laugh, and the day has gone from good to great.

“You like making me jump,” he accuses, poorly hiding a smile.

“My coworkers say I’m a sadist. Too bad for them I’m good at my job.” You flip open the book you brought him. “Ta da. The modern American cooking bible. Enjoy.”

Steve is immediately fascinated, leaning over and flipping through. “Betty Crocker is still a thing?”

“Oh yeah,” you say. “Still in grocery stores and the books get revised all the time.”

“Wow.” He smiles at you. “Thanks.”

You wave him off. Just as you’re about to go, though, you think of another possible concern. “By the way, Grayson talks a big game but he’s not serious. I mean, if he were single, yeah, but he’s got a wife and kids he loves more than anything. His flirting is all in good fun.”

Steve nods like it doesn’t bother him, but stops mid-motion. “What about Alex and Martha?”

You snort. “Good luck.”

He rolls his eyes. “Wow, thanks.”

You smile sweetly at him. “Always here to help.”

~

“Ooo,” Alex says under their breath and straightens their shirt.

You’re too annoyed to ask what they see. You find out anyways when Steve strolls up to the counter and says hello to Alex and then pointedly does the same to you, smiling like he’s gotten the best news of his life.

It’s fucking irritating and you wave him off like the obnoxious fly he is. Like the obnoxious fly he is, he remains. You give him a dirty look. “Away with you and your happiness.”

Steve laughs, showing his true colors for all to see. He leans on the counter closest to you. “That kind of day already, huh?”

You turn in the stool to properly glare at him. “I have great arm strength and three complete editions of “The Lord of the Rings” as well as the rest of our Tolkien collection. Do you want to find out how many copies of “The Silmarillion” are needed to take you out?”

Steve is unaffected. This is what you get for being nice– burning irritation and the blood of Captain America soon to be on your hands. Not to mention how all of your coworkers are probably going to give you the cold shoulder. Or worse– make you man the information desk.

You shudder. No, even Steve’s stupid fat head getting clocked by elven moping isn’t worth that.

“No,” he decides, smiling bigger as he watches you. “But I’ve been meaning to read “The Children of Húrin” if you happen to have it.”

You grab the book and…hand it to him, because you aren’t really a monster who would harm an innocent book just because someone else was irritating you.

Steve beams, the bastard. “Thanks!”

“Ugh, your sunshine hurts. Go away you fucking sadist.”

“We have that in common then,” Steve says and honest-to-god winks before strolling away to his area in the back. He’s so fucking jaunty that if he wasn’t in a library you’re pretty sure he’d be whistling.

“Nerd!” is your parting shot before you turn back to the task at hand. Alex, however, is gawking. Fucking great. “What?”

“‘Your sunshine?’” Alex points at you. “You were flirting!”

This might be the day you murder someone. And not a patron– that’s unexpected. “I was not!”

“And he was too oh my god.”

Blood rushes to your head. “Is this really how you want to go out? I made three 16 year old boys cry because they drew dicks in our books, my blood is pumping, I could fight a bear, don’t test me.”

Alex runs. To gossip; you’re not fooled. You shake your head. The problem with threatening people all the time is that eventually they find out you’re not actually violent. Not that those teenage brats know better, thankfully.

On that note, you do hope Steve enjoys their artistic interpretations of his text.

~

It’s too late to be irritated by the morning and too early to be irritated by the rest of the day, so you’re at the front desk, doing busywork to while away the slow mid-morning.

“Hi.”

You lift your head. “Do you live here now?”

“I wish,” Steve says. Your boss, William, is off to the side with Martha, and Steve politely greets them before focusing on you. He puts two books on the counter. “I wanted to return these.”

“Book drop is right over there,” you say.

“And deprive you of something to complain about? I would never,” he says.

Martha snorts. You magnanimously ignore her. It was pretty good, and you notice the first book you gave him sits on top. “How’d you like it?”

“It was fun.” Steve brings out a piece of paper. “I wrote down the author’s other work if you want to take a look?”

You take the list and give it a look-see before going at it with a pen. Some of the titles get stars, some get a ‘meh’, some get crossed out, and some of them get Sharpied out of existence.

“Do you need help?” you ask as you hand it back.

“No; I’ll just browse,” he says and holds it up. “Thanks,” he says, nods at the two useless observers, and goes on his way.

You open the first book to check it in and see a piece of paper folded in half. “Hey, you–” But Steve is gone. “Jeeze; even his bookmarks are dumb and big.”

You unfold it though and it’s– it’s a drawing. A really nice ink drawing of a snake-bodied dragon, fierce and blowing fire but…coiled at the bottom to sit on a throne of books that floats above the ground. Next to the picture is calligraphy that reads, ‘Thank you for always helping me.’

William and Martha crowd in, so you put the picture on the counter to let them see. You don’t look away from it but you can hear them admire it (as they should).

“Is…is he calling you a dragon?” William asks warily.

“This…” You breathe. “…Is the nicest thing ever.”

Martha and William scuttle off to gossip like the tweens they secretly are. You appreciate the drawing for a little while longer before you carefully fold it back up and slip it in your notebook under the counter.

God damn. He is flirting.

And god damn, you’re into it.

~

If you’re being honest, you’re not really that rude to strangers. Not most of the time, anyway. You know some who might argue that, but you love reading and books and stories and libraries and you want other people to love them too.

Some people, though, are hopeless.

“Here?”

“Next shelf over,” you say. “Left–” The guy moves his hand down and you sigh. “To the left, sir.”

He moves his hand, somehow, just over the book. “Yes! Th–” aaaaand he passes right by it.

Short of magically teleporting the book out of its spot and into his face, you're not sure what else you can do.

“Why can’t you just get it for me?” he whines.

You’ve had people practically strain their necks in effort not to look at the chair, but this is ridiculous. You rub your temples to ease the stupid. Someone is hovering in the aisle on the opposite side of where you’re trying to direct this disaster of a puppet show. Hopefully whoever is waiting has more patience than you. “I’m sorry sir but I don’t know how to be any clearer about it; you’ve literally passed over it–” Wait a minute. “Twice…” Wait a minute.

His mouth hints at a smirk even as he tries to look annoyed. Really? This is how he wants to harass you? This is weaksauce. He could have gone to Martha and done the same thing, she’s so short.

You smile politely. With fangs. “Sir, given our interaction here, I have to say I don’t think that book is right for you. The library has a great children’s section; I could show you the books for new readers. They’re well suited to your reading comprehension and your maturity level.”

It takes him a second. Unsurprisingly, he has the gall to get offended. “What did you say to me?!”

“We both know what you’re doing,” you say flatly, losing the gracious veneer. “Are you going to waste more of my time or can we stop pretending?”

He flounders for a moment, obviously too shocked by the turn to process. “I– I want to speak to–”

“His name is William and he’s at the front desk. Knock yourself out.” Please.

Asshole storms off and you sigh. It doesn’t seem fair that your ‘days without a complaint’ is about to get reset because of that, but maybe you can argue it. William is a reasonable guy. If he wasn’t you’d have been fired your first week when you heard someone making fun of their friend for reading Laura Kinsale and you signed the jerk up for every romance newsletter you knew of.

Steve steps out from the next aisle over and walks down to you. “Ah,” you say. “I should have known that particular looming.”

He blushes. That shouldn’t be legal. “Sorry; I wanted to talk to you so I decided to wait.”

Oh. “Then…thanks for not stepping in.”

“You had it handled. In fact…” He cracks a smile. “You were surprisingly patient.”

“I have to be.” You shrug. “My job involves dealing with the public. You know how it goes.”

“I do,” he says, smile growing. “Would you like to commiserate? Maybe over dinner?”

You try very hard to clamp down on your own smile. It peeks through anyway. Traitor. “Misery does love company.”

“Is it okay if I don’t think I’ll be miserable?” he asks.

“That’s fine, I can be miserable enough for the both of us,” you say. “You sure you want to go on a date with a dragon? You seem more like a princess kind of guy. White horse and all.”

He laughs and puts his hand to his chest. “Don’t let the suit of armor fool you. Besides, there’s more than one kind of princess.”

You shake your head. “I guess we’ll talk about it,” you say. “Over dinner.”

“Thursday?” he suggests.

“I get off work at six.”

“I’ll pick you up here then.”

“Cool.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

There’s an awkward moment where it feels like there’s something else– or should be something else. You know what you want, but…

Fuck it. You crook your finger to bring him in and Steve obeys, until he’s close and bracing his hands on the arms of your chair. You move to the side of his face and place a very light kiss on his cheek. He lingers for a moment and then stands, radiating carefully muted joy with a small smile that looks ready to erupt.

He’s going to ruin your reputation as a hardass. That doesn’t bother you near as much as you think it should. “Thursday,” you say and swallow. “It’s a date.”

He grins, like a sunbeam through the cloud. Yep. Ruined. “I’ll let you get back to work then,” he says and steps back. “Try not to set anyone on fire?”

Your smile shows teeth. “No promises,” you say and turn your throne around. This hoard isn’t going to manage itself, and you can’t just wait around for your knight– you’re not that kind of princess.

[lildevyl]

Septicscape, Chapter Two: The Corruption is Spreading

Chapter Two! For Septicscape!

Chapter: 1

Summary:  The Corruption is spreading and it is now in Jackieboy Man’s world.  Two students and the Director of the Music and Arts Program from Ego University went missing!  Then they came back but not acting like themselves.

Warnings:  Mentions of kidnapping, static, blood and there is Zalgo Text in here for anyone that might be a little uncomfortable with that.

Tagging: @septic-dr-schneep, @egopocalypse, @starlightxnightmare, @fear-is-nameless, @huffletrax, @burnbrightfadefast, @jackjames-exe, @dolphintreasureart, @dezzydynamite, @power-of-friends-games, @epicfangirl01, @a-humble-narcissus, @thevampireauthoress, @the-scribe-watches, @d-structive, @kisstheashes, @chaoticcrimsonrose, @julywinters, @run-stray-wolf, @thefirsttobreak, @therealjacksepticeye, @weirdmixofweirdness

If want to be tagged or guest star in one of my stories please let me know!

Guest Staring:  River Bayou @egopocalypse, Lou Huffle @huffletrax, Erin Treasures @dolphintreasureart.  Thank You ghouls and fiends for wanting to guest star!  This has been absolutely fun to write!!!!

(The Deep Lab)

"I think he's coming around.  Henrik?  C'mon, wake up.  Come back to us."

Henrik's eyes fluttered open, then he had to shut them quickly shut them.  It's too bright!  Henrik shifted his head and his eyes were able to finally focus.  "Ch-Chase?"  Henrik choked out.

Now, he remembered.  The "Corruption."  But how was he here?  Did Chase find a way to save him?  All Henrik wanted to do was to hug Chase and cry.  He never wanted to leave Chase, make him feel like he abandoned him but Henrik didn't have a choice.

"Yeah, Henrik.  It's me," Chase softly said.  "And I'm not alone."  Chase nodded.

Henrik's eyes followed and he couldn't believe it.  "Jack?"

"Yeah, it's me," Jack smiled.  Henrik looked around where they were.   He was on one of the beds in his Lab.  "I think some explaining is in order

============================================

(Several Pots of Coffee and Tea Later)

"And that's when we dragged you back here.  Making sure to keep an eye on you."  Jack finished explaining.  Then took a huge sip of the last remains of his coffee.

"But  - but how did you combat the Corruption?"  Henrik inquired completely baffled.

"I don't know," Jack answered honestly.  "One minute we were in the room trying to bring you back.  Then the next moment, I saw  .   .   .   The illusion?  And was telling you that you are a good doctor.  Then it felt like - the Corruption  .  .  .  Just - let go?"  Jack shrugged.  "I don't know how else to explain it."

"The Creator's Power,"  Henrik answered more to himself than the others.  Jack and Chase shared a look, hoping the other knew what Henrik meant.

"When you, Jack, our Creator.  Create an Ego, give us a name, a backstory and let the Community know about us.  You give us life.  Creating a spark from you and your Creativity, you give us a soul.  We live as  long as you actively support us through any means."  Henrik explained upon seeing their confused faces. "Fan art, theories, fanfictions, headcanons, fan-made games, edits, cosplay, photos.  Even just watching our videos, help.  This is what's called the Creator's Power."

"Wow.  I had no idea," Jack said in awe.

"Yes, but if you chose to not make an Ego "Canon" but the Community likes them and supports them enough.  Or if members of the Community "invents" an Ego and that Ego gets enough support from the Community.  Then they become what's known as a "Fan Creation."  Henrik concluded.

"My fans are super amazing."  Jack smiled fondly.

"Yeah, they are, Jack.  They are."  Henrik agreed.  "But getting back to the point at hand," Henrik continued.  "The others that you see in the different worlds of the Mindscape.  Are in fact, ordinary people.  Friends, family, people you interact with on a daily bases, even different fans you've met or favorite characters from certain games.  They live, fall in love then eventually die.  They don't live as long as we do here."

"What happens if you're forgotten?"  Jack asked.

"Then we die.  Without you and the Community, we cease to exist.  Our souls would shatter and then we would fade.  And our part of the Mindscape would crumble as well," Henrik solemnly explained.

"B-but Chase said his world crumbled but he's still here!"  Jack protested.  This made absolutely no sense.  The Community and Jack still remembered Chase, so why did his world collapsed?

"To that, I have no explanation," Henrik admitted.

Then Jack remembered something.  "You said that the other Egos are here, right?"  Jack asked turning to Chase.  Getting a nod from Chase, Jack continued.  "I think we better check on the others, then."

"You think they could be affected as well?"

"They might be.  You were affected pretty badly in one of the vlogs.  You've mentioned the Corruption spreading.  Even affecting many of your patients."

Henrik nodded, with a bit of guilty look.  He hasn't spoken to either of the other Egos since the Corruption began.

"I think we need to check on them.  To make sure that they're okay."  Jack stated mistaking the look for Henrik being worried.

"Septic City is the closest one to us.  We could check on Jackieboy Man.  If anybody could help in beating this Corruption.  Then it's our residential Super Hero."  Chase added.

"That's a good place to start."  Henrik agreed.  "Plus, the University has a massive Library here in the Mindscape.  I could do some more research to try to combat this."

=============================

(Septic City)

"Huh, so, this is Septic City?  Beautiful view."  Jack stated seeing the City for the first time.

"It's quite beautiful," Henrik commented.  "I'm not sure where we might find Jackie but if we head to the University.  We should either run into him or at least run into someone who might know where he could be."

================================

(Ego University, Lou Huffle)

Lou Huffle, a senior here at Ego University sat at her desk in the Art Classroom, tapping her pencil.  Glaring at their mortal enemy that mockingly stared back at her.  Creator's Block had decided to strike and strike hard.  Now, here she was staring at a blank page in her sketchbook with a six-week deadline to get her, newest issue of her comic series out.  With a frustrated sigh, Lou slammed her sketchbook closed and stuffed it into her book bag and headed out.  Her next class started in an hour but she wanted to grab some lunch first.

Halfway down the hall, Lou began to notice something strange.  It's the middle of the week, this hallway should be crowded with shoulder to shoulder of people. And yet it’s completely deserted.  Where was everyone?  Lou had a bad feeling about this, quickening her pace she nearly sprinted to the end of the hall.  She pushed on the doors but nothing happened.  She tried again and nothing happened.  What?  Was this thing stuck or something?  No, it was locked, but why?

Lou suddenly had a feeling that she wasn't alone.  Like someone was watching her.  The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up.  A rattling breath could be heard right behind her.  Grabbing her sketchbook and with the trigger word to bring her creation to life if need be, on the tip of her tongue.  Lou cautiously turned around.  There standing just a couple of feet away from her.  Stood a girl with stringy sprayed painted hair, button eyes, a faded patched shirt, a patch jacket, ripped jeans and a stitched mouth.  Her buttons eyes appeared as if they were bleeding.

The last thing Lou remembered hearing through the muffled whispering and before she succumbed to the darkness was   .   .   .

"Lou!  Lou!  You need to wake up!  This is Jackie!"

================================

(Dolphin Treasures Art Gallery)

Erin stood in her Art Gallery finishing up on her latest piece, smiling and humming "All the Way."  She was going to display it for everyone to see before she sent into the Power of Friend Games.  They're working on a fan-made game of one her favorite YouTubers, JackSepiceye.  She wanted to finish this so she could send it in for the possibility of it being in the game.  Erin loved this, she loved doing fan art and being able to express herself like this.  It brought so much of joy to her.  And seeing everyone's reaction when she uploads her pieces and even taking some commissions.  It truly did fill her heart with pride and joy.

Even if her art wasn't in it, seeing all the fan art, the story arch, and seeing all the creativity the Community did into their projects.  Erin's smile broaden even more. She went to dip her brush into the paint once more, she stopped upon seeing a couple of red drops on her hand.  It wasn't paint.  Then she felt something trickled down her chin and landed on her hand.  Putting her paints and brushes down, Erin put her hand to her face and pulled back.  Fresh blood.  Quickly going to the bathroom to see what was going on, Erin realized that she somehow had gotten a random nosebleed out-of-the-blue.  That was weird. Cleaning up and grabbing the first aid kit, Erin saw that the nosebleed had stopped.  She still didn't know what could have caused it.

Going back to the Art Gallery, Erin began to rub her eyes.  There was some sort of discomfort building up all of sudden.  Maybe now, was a perfect time to take a break?  When Erin returned to her painting and was about to start putting everything away.  She taught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and had to do a double take.  Her eyes.  Her eyes were button-like!  One was light brown on the outside but black on the inside.  The other one was black on the outside but light brown on the inside.  And they began to bleed red and black tears down her face.  The last thing she remembered before the darkness took over was   .   .   .

"Erin!  Erin!  You need to fight this!  It's me!  It's Jackie!"

=======================

(Ego University, River Bayou)

River sat in the nearly empty Computer Lab staring at a blank computer screen and a blinking cursor.  She shut her laptop closed with a more force than necessary (she'll apologize later) and stuffed it into her case.  Dejectedly, River pulled out a letter that was the entire cause of her foul mood.  She should have just chucked the damn thing in first trash bin she came across and went on her way.  But instead, she kept the blasted thing as if rereading what it said would numb the pain.  Or would make the cursed wording more bearable.  The letter was from the number one publisher in Egopolcalpse and the cause of her distress.

Miss Bayou,

Thank you for considering us as your publisher.  We received your manuscript and looked it over.  We regret to inform you that Kingdom Come is not what we're looking for right now.  We decided to go with another candidate instead. If you have another story you will like us to take a look at for the possibility of publishing.  Please send in your manuscript and we will take a look at it.  Good Luck and thank you again.

Angel Mercury.

Scowling, River crumpled up the letter and with a low growl, and threw it in the nearest trash bin.  Not what they were looking for?!  Did they know how much time and effort she put into that story?!  What more do they want?!  Sighing heavily, River sank back down into her chair and lazily looked around the Computer Lab for a distraction.  Right now, she honestly didn't care if she was late to class.

One of the games a student was playing caught her eye.  She didn't recognize the student though. Stringy sprayed painted hair, faded patch shirt, patch jacket, ripped jeans and what appeared to be sunglasses that she was wearing.  River came over and sat next to the new student.  River saw that it looked like she might have been crying earlier.  If the running mascara was anything to by.

*Do you want to try it?*  She asked.

"If you don't mind," River answered looking at the game case.

Puppets: A JackSepticeye Game by Power of Friend Games and Sarcastic Pasta Games.  The developers of Septicscape and the Boss.  Private Investigator Chase Brody and his partner Detective Jackie McLoughlin are hired by Marvin the Magnificent to help find his long lost brother, Doctor Henrik von Schneeplestein.  Who's believe to be the Puppet Master's lasted victim.  You must investigate various characters, plow through multiple and sometimes random battles, solve many cryptic puzzles to decode the where about of Henrik.  But beware.  For the Puppet Mater is  à͡l҉w͟͡a̸̢y̴͠s ̵̨wa̵t̵c̴͝h̕҉i͜n̶͝g̶  and will make you his next puppet if you not careful.

Smiling ear to ear, and her eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree, River dove straight into the game.  She was already getting into this game; playing as, Chase and/or Jackie (you can switch between the two).  River went to different parts of the city.  Interviewing different people, the player (River) trying to figure out who was lying, who was telling the truth, who could be working for the “Puppet Master.”  Every now and then River had to stop and massage her wrists and arms and sometimes she even had to rub her legs.

'Strange?  Maybe I've been playing and sitting for too long?  But this game! Man, I have to know what happens!'  River thought to herself.

She continued to play until what appeared to be the final puzzle of the game. She had to decode a message of some sort.  Ha!  Easy!  River decoded it in nothing flat.  Then something strange happened.  The computer screen went blank.  Completely and utterly dark.  After about ten seconds, the computer screen flickered back on but it was nothing but a black and green static.

"Um," River took an unsteady breath.  "Do - do you know if I might have, accidentally broke the game?"  River turned to the student and nearly knocked over her chair.  She - the student - she has   .   .   .  Button eyes!  And the button eyes began to bleed a blood-like ink.  She tilted her head and smiled not even breaking her stitched mouth.

River then felt a tug on her wrists.  She looked down and realized, there were acid green strings attached to her wrists and ankles.  River tried to run for it but the strings yanked her and she fell face first on the floor.  Digging her fingernails into the carpet as the strings began to drag her.  She grabbed a hold of a leg of one of the tables.  Then one of the love seats in the Computer Lab.  And finally the coffee table itself.  

"HELP!!!"  River screamed.  And to her horror, there was no one else but the Living Rag Doll, smiling at her.  "Jackie!!!"  The last thing River heard before she was completely sucked into the computer was   .   .   .

"M̶̧͝y ͟͝Fa̶̢v̵̛o̕̕ri̡t͘e͘͝ ̛L̸҉o͠y̴͝a̶͘l͏̷̢ ̵͜P̷̕úp̸͠pe̶̸̛t̀"

=============================

(Ego University)

Jackie didn't know what to do.  There was something very strange going on here at the University.  Two students that Jackie had classes with, Lou Huffle and River Bayou, went missing yesterday.  Lou was a very hard working student, even if it wasn't her best subject.  She always strive to do her best.  So, for Lou to just "skip" her classes?  It just didn't make any sense.

Then, for Lou to just materialize out of nowhere the next day, and act as if nothing happened?  That was not like Lou at all!  Not only that but Lou has been obsessing and working at her desk in the Dolphin Treasures Art Gallery none stop.  She's been working on her brand new comic:  Nox.  Never taking a break except to eat and/or to get more art supplies.

And the strangeness doesn't stop there.  Erin Treasures, the Director of the Music and Arts Programs and the owner of the Dolphin Treasures Art Gallery, went missing yesterday as well.  No one had seen or heard from her all day yesterday.  That wasn't like her.  Erin, no matter how busy she might, always took some time out to help someone.  So, for her to not be heard from or no one was able to find her yesterday?  Yeah, something was up!

What made it worst though, was like Lou.  Erin showed up out of the blue, the next day, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  Obsessing about making the perfect painting and working none stop, except to eat or get more art supplies.  She's painted about four different Septic Ego portraits, stop to look at them, and then she carelessly chucks them into a storage room.  Constantly saying, "No, it's not right.  It's not perfect.  I need to make the perfect painting.  It needs to be perfect!"

Jackie needed help.  He decided to call Henrik and Chase and see if they could help out.  Jackie felt a little guilty about doing this, he hasn't spoken to Chase since his world collapsed.  And he hasn't spoken to Henrik since he began to research what was causing the Corruption.  Taking a deep breath and taking his cellphone out, Jackie dialed the number he knew by heart.  "Henrik?  It's Jackie. I need your help.  Can you and Chase come by the University?  I think it's spreading."

Dread was beginning to seep it's way into the pit of Jackie's stomach.  River Bayou was still missing.

==============================

(The Ego Cafe)

Tapping his fingers against his leg, Jackie impatiently waited for Chase and Henrik to arrive as the minutes slowly ticked by.  Huffing a frustrated sigh for the umpteenth time.  Jackie began to pace, outside the Cafe.  The Cafe was on the campus and towards the right as you walk in.  Giving Jackie the perfect view of the Front Entrance.  Jackie knew that he was being illogical, he just called them like no more than ten minutes ago.  It wasn't like they could teleport or had super speed.  So, Jackie continued his illogical impatient pacing for the next half hour. He couldn't help it.  There was this feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Hopefully, Henrik could tell him something.  Speaking of which, there he is!

And was that, "Jack?"

"Hey Jackieboy," Jack greeted.

"Sshhh.  Keep it down," Jackie whispered looking around.  "I go by Jackson.  Or some people call me Jackie."

"Oh, sorry," Jack sheepishly apologized.

"It's okay.  Wait, Jack?  How did you get here?"  Jackie inquired.

"Do you have ninety minutes?  But seriously, I have no idea.  We're still trying to figure that out," Jack answered.

"Jackie?  You said that Corruption was spreading?"  Henrik asked getting to the topic of why they're here.

"Oh, right.  Let's grab a table and some lunch.  I'll explain everything," Jackie answered.

A couple of hours later, Jackie finished explaining what was going on.  "And that's why I called you.   Think the Corruption is spreading, Doc."

"I think you're right," Henrik confirmed.  "The Corruption could be spreading to your world, Jackie.  I thought I contained it but I guess not.  There's a way to beat the Corruption but I'm not sure on how to apply it."

"What about the Library?  You were using that for your research," Chase suggested.

"That's a good idea.  I could do some more research to see how to help," Henrik agreed.

"Well, the fastest way to do that is if we take a short cut through the Art Gallery." Jackie hesitated a bit, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say next.  "I was hoping Henrik, that maybe you could take a look for yourself.  See what's going on with Lou and Erin.  Maybe you could figure out how to combat this?"

"That is a good idea," Henrik commented.

"Alright, let's head on out guys," Jackie said sounding more confident then he felt.

===========================

(Dolphin Treasure Art Gallery)

Erin and Lou worked relentlessly at their projects.  Both of them suddenly stopped what they were doing.  The felt the tug on their strings and knew what it meant.  Lou Huffle would get the chance to show her brand new comic and have the perfect story arch.  Erin would be able to paint the perfect painting for she will have for new still life models to paint.  Both of them got ready for the Ultimate Art Show.

=====================

A/N:  Here are a couple of links that helped inspired this story and this chapter.

For those of you here on Tumblr that might not know.  @dolphintreasureart has a YouTube Channel!  Please go and check it out!  It has her doing what I call speed painting and also doing Let’s Plays of various Indie Games and Fan-Made Games

Septicscape Play List: here

This is the post that helped inspire the scene with River:  here

[nevillelongsbottom]

he’s not what i was expecting pairing: marcus flint x neville longbottom word count: 1,696 links: ao3

The thing that surprises Neville most about his first kiss is that Marcus asks.

He hadn’t been expecting the kiss at all, but if he’d thought about it, he’d have thought that Marcus would just push him up against a wall and kiss him without second thought; which is, of course, mostly what he does, save for the part when he asks almost under his breath “can I kiss you?” and Neville stares back and says “yes” before he’s quite aware of what he’s said.

And then there’s no wall - they’re sitting on Neville’s bed, which is in the middle of his room and thus nowhere near any of his walls, most of which are unapproachable anyway due to his collection of rather large potted plants, so Marcus’s remedy to this is to effortlessly knock Neville over so that he can be pushed back into his bed, which has a soft mattress that he sinks into just as easily as Marcus sinks into him.

Of all the people to be his first kiss, Marcus had never struck Neville as a contender. In fact, had Marcus not asked Neville to tutor him in Biology after being seated next to him, Neville’s fairly sure that neither of them would’ve been on the other’s radar; and without being on the other’s radar, they wouldn’t have spent the better part of six months on Neville’s intensive course to passing GCSE Biology, and therefore never would’ve gotten to know each other at all. Neville would never have known that Marcus loves old soul music and dances like he’s already an embarrassing dad to them, and Marcus never would have known that Neville likes to bake and can make the meanest chocolate cookies Marcus has ever had, soft on the inside and crunchy on the outside.

Marcus grins and brushes the hair out of Neville’s eyes.

-

Augusta Longbottom doesn’t cook a meal for Marcus on the pretense of inviting him over and getting to scrutinise him; instead, she gets to know him through the measure of his regular interactions with her grandson. She makes no judgments on his leather jackets or his ripped jeans or the fact that he’s built like a particularly clumsy tank, but watches the way he grins when Neville is talking, or the way his arm slides around Neville’s waist and the way Neville comforts into it.

She begins to think that she rather likes Marcus when she spies the two of them through the broken keyhole in the kitchen door in the living room dancing to Alice’s old Sparks Greatest Hits record, cheeks flushed and Marcus with just as much reckless abandon as Neville, who Augusta hasn’t seen dance in her entire life, much less dance enough for sweat to stick his hair to his forehead.

And Marcus, oh Marcus, is dancing right back like he doesn’t know that it could ever be an art form; and that’s when Augusta decides that he’s just perfect for Neville.

-

Marcus is sitting on Frank’s old patchwork chair and wearing a grey sweater when he tells Neville that he loves him to a Cat Power record, and Neville is so taken aback by the fact that it’s happened that it takes him a moment; because, even though he’s above his own misconceptions about Marcus, they’re still lingering there, and he’s always thought that Marcus would never be the type of person to say it first or even focus on his own emotions at that level. He’d always expected that he would be the one to say it.

It’s easy when he says it, grinning because he can’t really believe, still, that there’s someone out there that could care about him and love him, and that that person happens to have scared Neville shitless for most of his life prior (he happened to hang around in circles of people that looked intimidatingly large and mean). “I love you, too,” he says, and swallows, smiling nervously. “A-a lot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Taking a step he had no idea he had the bravery for, he reaches for the hem of his T-shirt when Marcus physically interjects, crossing the room and laying his hands over Neville’s.

“I wanna do that,” he says, and Neville concedes, Marcus’s hands warm where they graze the skin of his stomach.

-

Marcus is a year older than Neville, so by the time Neville’s frantically trying to put together his UCAS application and trying to balance out his personal statement, Marcus is already out of school and between shifts at the local Costa and the Amazon warehouse; he’s particularly busy, playing rugby when he’s not working, but he manages to join Neville in Costa after a shift, sporting a particularly large black coffee as Neville is trying to redraft his application for the fifth time.

“Where are you applying?” he asks, picking off a part of Neville’s muffin to eat.

“I don’t know,” Neville mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve gotten better than most of the entry requirements, so that’s okay, but… I’d like to go to university maybe somewhere else - and it’s not because of you, you know I want to stay with you, but…”

“Don’t sweat it,” Marcus replies, taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s shit round here. If you wanna be a student, go be a proper student somewhere proper student-y.” He runs a hand through Neville’s hair, ruffling it. “Let me have a read of that.”

“It’s bad,” Neville protests, but Marcus laughs, taking the printed-out sheet Neville has been writing over in a desperate attempt to make his personal statement as eloquent and presentable as possible, and he shies into silence as Marcus reads it slowly, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

He chuckles. “This is real cute. Wind band, huh? What’d you play?”

“Bassoon,” Neville mumbles, and Marcus quirks his eyebrows.

“I don’t even know what that fucking is,” he snorts, reading again through Neville’s exam results with glee: he thinks he’s stupid, but he’s brimming with As and A*s - and for Marcus, whose best result was his B in GCSE Biology (thanks mostly to Neville), it’s fantastic. Neville deserves this, and he knows that; and he’s seen all his friends fall out with their boyfriends and girlfriends over university, but fuck, who is he to stop Neville from achieving? That’s what he wants Neville to do.

Hell, he wants to keep Neville; he doesn’t want Neville to be gone, halfway across the country where the rail fares are too high for Marcus to afford any visit, but fuck. He wants Neville to be better than he is, to get out there and do something.

“You’ll get in,” he says, pushing the personal statement back at Neville, who scoffs.

“I don’t even know where I’m applying to.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll get in.”

“That’s not a guarantee.”

“Take it from me, baby, that’s a fucking guarantee.”

Neville smiles shyly, still unused to actually being referred to with pet names, and finishes his hot chocolate. “I hope so,” he says; and without pause for anything, Marcus leans in and kisses him, running his thumb across Neville’s flushed cheek. Neville reaches up and takes Marcus’s hand, clasping it. “I think I want to go to University College London.”

-

To Marcus’s complete lack of surprise, Neville gets in.

He doesn’t seem to believe it’s happened even when he gets the email, or the letter, or his matriculation card, or when he gets his course details, or even when he sorts out his uni accommodation and books his train ticket; even the day before, he seems in a state of mild shock, as if the idea of leaving is still a foreign one.

Marcus comes over for Neville’s leaving bash, a party full of family he’s seen so few times that he doesn’t even recognise half of them, and almost all of whom flash dirty looks at Marcus for his squint teeth and rough accent, and all of whom he just glares back at; and he stays even after it’s over and the buffet has been drained and all that’s left are raisin cookies and cold sausage rolls and the only people left are Neville’s weird uncles.

“London, huh,” he says, sprawled out on the sofa watching reruns of Bob’s Burgers that he and Neville must have seen so many times that they could quote the whole episode. “You better go to all the cool places while you’re there. Don’t fucking cop out.”

“I won’t,” Neville promises; he’s sitting on the floor, cross-legged, eating heated-up Domino’s pizza from the day before, his head leaning back against Marcus’s stomach. He glances at the chair in the corner of the room, the patchwork, and remembers the feeling of Marcus kissing down his neck and making a trail to the waistband of Neville’s jeans, and he instinctively blushes. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll text,” Marcus offers. “Or call, or fucking FaceTime but you know I look like a troll on camera.”

“It’s not the same,” Neville protests.

“You can send me sexy Snapchats.”

“I absolutely will not!” Neville turns around and bats at Marcus for the suggestion; and Marcus just laughs, letting Neville bat until he gives up with a kiss that’s all too much food but that Marcus couldn’t even force himself to mind, hooking a finger in the neck of Neville’s T-shirt.

“You wanna go upstairs?” he asks, and Neville nods; and they ignore Neville’s staring family members as they traipse upstairs hand-in-hand and as Marcus locks the bedroom door. “Not gonna lie, mate, your family look like the kind that would all stand outside and listen.”

“They don’t think I’ll ever amount to much,” Neville says bashfully. “So I think they’re surprised that I’ve got university, and you.”

“Pricks,” Marcus sniffs. “I think you amount to - I don’t know, a fucking lot. And if they think you’re shit, then bloody hell, tell me what the fuck they’ve ever done that’s so damn special.”

Neville is already sans his T-shirt when Marcus turns to face him again, and he grins. “God, I’m gonna miss you too. I bloody love you.”

“Yeah,” Neville laughs. “Me too.”

[redheadedgumdrop]

Last Show

The end of tour was always a weird thing for Oliver. There was a mix of feelings, and emotions, and the high of playing live for thousands of people was still bursting through every pore, excitement rushing through his skin and his bones and his muscles. He both wanted it to be over, get home, sleep for a whole week, and keep touring forever. And it was always confusing, but never quite like this. Ollie distinctively remembered inviting Ellie over for their show, hoping she would come over but knowing the chances of that happening were small. Yet he was not ready for the disappointment he felt at knowing she had gone to the show, watch it from the floor, and then just… left. He hadn´t got to see her, she didn´t go backstage and she definitely did not go out partying with them.

Oliver had tried to party the night away, and not think too much, and not wonder if maybe Ellie had changed her mind about everything and just didn´t like him in the least. It hadn´t worked.  Not even an hour after going out to some club somewhere, and Lizzie had cornered him by the bar as he got another drink, called him a weenie, said he looked pathetic, bumming everyone out, making it impossible for them to enjoy themselves. But then she had stolen a pen from behind the bar and a napkin, messily scrawled something on it, and slapped his chest with her mum’s hotel and room number. Her groan was even louder at the smile he gave her, illuminating his whole face and brightening the room and the night and especially his mood, and Ollie hugged her, ignoring her muttering about stupid, sappy drunk boys. Somehow, not sure how, he had gotten a ride to her hotel, managing to magically avoid both awaiting fans and paparazzo. It had taken them a while to get there, but it had been enough to give him time to imagine what would happen, the most perfect cinematic scene his mind could come up with. The breeze would be blowing, her hair would be shining, and she would smile up at him, wide and happy, and run into his arms, and he would spin her around and around and around, and then he would kiss her. Oliver was sure he had said all that out loud in a wild stride of words without stopping or breathing, explaining his plan to the driver. “I’m gonna go! And I’m gonna kiss her and it’s gonna be amazing!” and the man had laughed, and wished him good luck as he parked, and everything seemed bright and sunny and absolutely happy.

Used to travelling, moving and maneuvering around a hotel was second nature to him, and Ollie quickly figured out the layout and where he was supposed to go to get to her floor. He tried not to look too suspicious, or run to the lift, but he wasn´t sure if he succeeded or not, but didn´t mind one bit. Pacing and shuffling on his feet all through the short elevator ride, Ollie’s self-control only lasted until the doors dinged open and he practically ran all the way to the last room on the hallway, number 309, and knocked once. And twice. And three times. And then four and more, as he started to tap the rhythm to Teeth against the wood of the door. He was about to start singing the chorus when the door opened up and he almost knocked a man in the face with his closed fist.

“Whoa!” Oliver exclaimed, shocked, staring at the redhead man in front of him, “You’re not Ellie.”

“Clearly,” The wrong redhead replied, his glare dissipating when realized Ollie was drunk and not an asshole. “There’s no Ellie here. Just a Clara.”

“Hey!” A female voice called from deeper in the room, “Don´t tell him my name! What if he’s a psycho?!”

The man laughed, tying his bathrobe tighter around his waist, as he turned to stare at Ollie, sizing him up. “He doesn´t look like a psycho, baby.”

“No psycho ever does! If they did, no one would ever trust them!” The woman argued, and she sounded closer now but not even a little bit like Ellie, but her argument was perfectly reasonable enough.

“She’s right, it’s not smart to give her name away,” Oliver nodded, and the other man laughed even more.

“Alright, are you a psychopath?”

He felt his cheeks burnt up red, not sure why, but he shook his head, “No, no, no. Just a little drunk”

“He’s just drunk, babe,” The other man called back into the room. “A drunk man in love we can relate with!”

The woman sighed, and Ollie could imagine she would be rolling her eyes, but a few seconds later, she was standing next to her partner, hair in a ponytail and a bathrobe on and a frown on her face. Ollie felt himself blush even more under her gaze, like a scolded child, and almost missed the spark of recognition that ignited her expression. “Aren´t you that guy from that band?”

“I….”

“Very polite, Clar.”

“Oh, shut up, Josh. You know, the guy, from the band your sister likes? Second of something! Or maybe Second at something? Some dumb shit like that.”

Josh snorted, patting her shoulder and pulling her closer. “Excuse my wife, buddie. She gets cranky at night, but she’s usually a sweetheart. Anyway. Which room are you looking for? This girl might have just lied to you.”

“Josh, love, look at him,” Clara exclaimed confidently, and the two of them turned to stare at Oliver. “No one would give the wrong number to those arms. Even a lesbian would just point him to a friend. Did this Ellie girl write it down?”

Ollie nodded, handing her the napkin he had clutched between his fingers, his mind offering the dreadful idea that maybe Lizzie had just lied at him to get rid of him. That maybe Ellie wasn´t even there at all. “Room 309. See?”

“Eh…” Clara trailed off, moving the napkin in all sorts of ways, closers to her face and against the light. “I think that’s actually a 5? Look.”

She handed the napkin to her husband, and he nodded eagerly, “Definitely looks like my 5. Try that one instead! 509.”

“Really?” Ollie was confused, accepting the napkin back, but his grin was huge and bright. “Thanks! Thank you much!” Turning around on his heels, he waved at the couple as he started running towards the lift. “Good night and sorry to interrupt!”

“Good luck!” Josh and Clara yelled back at him as he got into the lift.

The alcohol buzz was little less hazy now, the edges of upcoming sobriety reclaiming his mind slowly, little by little. Ollie tapped his stomach in random patterns as the elevator went up two floors, anxiety crawling up his legs. Maybe she was asleep. Maybe she thought he was a terrible drummer and didn´t want to see him again. Maybe she had left the state, or maybe she had someone over. Maybe-

The door opened up before he could realize he had walked all the way up there or knocked. And there she stood in all her redhead glory, face bright and freckled, feet bare and legs barer, and black hoodie grazing her thighs. Oliver gaped, surprised that it was really her, that she was really there, that she had really opened up the door, and then he registered the reflective logo on the chest.

“You’re wearing our merch,” He stated, eyes wide. “I have that hoodie.”

The right redhead blushed, fumbling on her feet and looking at the floor, “Yeah… Jem gave it to me earlier.”

“You met Jem earlier.” Ollie wasn´t entirely sure how he felt about that.

“I… panicked a little. Earlier. Jem went to the parking lot, not sure why, and he talked me down. I see why you love him, he’s sweet. He convinced me to stay, watch from the pit if I didn´t feel comfortable there. I’m glad he did. You’re amazing. I mean, you all are, I’m impressed, but you… are definitely something.”

Her words made him blush, feeling sheepish, and it took him a moment to realize that she was rambling because she was nervous, because he was feeling the same kind of nerves. He wasn´t sure where his drunken spur bravado had gone, but now that he was standing in front of her it was harder to be confident. Or charming. Or dashing. The fact that she had left had upset his confidence and his reaction to her, and now he was left feeling awkward and out of place, careful of not tipping the balance even further.

“I think we were amazing too,” Oliver agreed, though, smiling at her. “I’m glad you watched the show. I’m happy you did. I’m also glad it was a great show as well, because we’ve had a couple of flukes during tour when we had awful audiences.”

Ellie looked up at him curiously, “Awful audiences? Were they all on their phones or threw rotten food at you?”

“Ah, that has never happened, but they just… refused to interact! They sit down and do nothing, not even hum a little. It’s unnerving and it fucks with the whole vibe of the show.”

“That doesn´t sound pleasant,” The redhead nodding absentmindedly, catching her lower lip between her teeth.

“It is not. But tonight was great. And you look great. Hi,” Ollie grinned, a little flustered.

The redhead blushed and looked at the floor, but a smile curled up her face and her teeth released her lip. And a mischievous gleam lit up her eyes as she asked him, “Do you want to… come in?”

“Yes.”

Absolutely. He wanted to do more than just that, too; he wanted to touch her face, trace her lips and her nose with his fingers, he wanted to hold her neck in his hand, follow her arms from her shoulders to her wrists and then her hands, he wanted to count her freckles and pull her closer, and definitely see what she was wearing underneath the band hoodie. But as she stepped back from the threshold, opening the door all the way to let him in, Ollie realized he couldn´t. Because that was her room, and he really liked her, and locking themselves there would only give him bad ideas and wonderfully inappropriate images, and he had not gone there just for sex. He didn´t want her to think that at all.

“Wait, no.”

“…. You don´t want to?” She sounded confused, and he was tempted to hold her face between his hands and kiss her nose and her forehead and her cheeks and then her lips.

“No, I do. But I shouldn´t. I don´t want you to think I’m only here for sex or your boobs or anything like that.”

A smirk spread on her face, and she raised her eyebrows at him, tauntingly, “I wasn´t thinking about sex.”

Oliver blushed, again, but figured there was no point in lying. “I was, a little. But I’m not here for that!”

“Well…. I was, a little, too,” Ellie laughed, leaning down to poke his left bicep with her finger. “You looked good on stage.”

“You look good right here, doll.”

“But you still don´t want to come in,” She asked, opening her eyes wide and ignoring her blush as she stepped closer to the threshold. Closer to him.

“Wouldn´t be smart, love. I just wanted to see you.”

“Seeing me naked is definitely a form of seeing me,” She laughed, tapping his bicep again with her index finger.

And while she had a point, it wasn´t what he was going for. “And I would love that. But… we have time. I just want to be here with you.”

Arching her eyebrows at him, Ellie groaned, making him laugh with her words: “Are you a fan of blue balls?”

“No! And if Jem were here, he would go on a rant about how that is not a medical term and it was invented by men to demand sex from women. But he’s not….. So we’re here now.”

“It’s still annoying,” She pouted.

It was hard to remain sure of his decision when she looked at him like that, even harder not to reach down and kiss her, crash her against his chest and not let her go until they both needed air. “I’m sorry, doll. I just want to be with you. For now. We can have sex later, I want to.”

Ellie didn´t reply right away, looking him up and down for a moment as if she was pondering her options, weighing in on what she should or shouldn´t do. “I ordered room service before you showed up, I thought it was them when you knocked. Onion rings and Caesar salad and chocolate mousse. Are you hungry?”

His smile seemed to reach his ears and cover his whole face. Telling her he was only hungry for her, for getting to know everything he could about her, for her presence close to him, was out of the question, the kind of corny things she’d scoff at and rolled her eyes at with some biting remark. So instead, Oliver nodded. “We got some snacks right after the show, but not much else. Only alcohol.”

“You went out?”

The redhead cocked her head to the side, brows furrowed, but before she could continue, a young man in a hotel uniform got off the lift and started rolling the room service tray towards them. Ellie jumped a little and run inside, fumbling through her purse over the bed, leaning down a little with her back to him. It seemed like a jerk move, but Ollie couldn´t help to stare at her legs and the exact spot they disappeared under the fabric, wasting a moment in imagining what would it feel like to run his fingers up her thighs and how her skin would react and if she would moan or move against him or be more confident and demanding. She turned around before he could continue his fantasy, her wallet in hand as the hotel worker reached her door.

“Thank you!” Ellie replied to whatever the boy had said, Ollie couldn´t be sure, and she handed him a generous tip when he finished setting things up on the table by the door. “Can we keep the tray or you have to bring it with you?”

“The tray? Yes, absolutely! I’ll leave it here, then, miss,” The boy smiled, thankful for the tip. He wished them a good night and Ellie waved as he walked out and down the hallway, and then she turned to him, smile still in place.

“Not to get scolded about it, but why are you here if you went out?”

He could tell her about how bummed he had been when she wasn´t there or how much Lizzie had said he was depressing everyone, but he wasn´t sure how she would take that yet, seeing as she had left before seeing him at the show, so he went with half the truth. “Liz gave me your hotel room.”

“Oh. She did? That’s…. Wow.”

“Is it okay…?” The drummer trailed off, but she gave him a wide smile and nodded.

“It’s weird, but I did want to see you. Especially after you came to see me in New York. But alas,“ Ellie shrugged, sheepish smile on her lips, “seems like we’ll stay as unresolved as then, sir.”

Ollie chuckled, cheeks blushing and butterflies on his stomach. “I swear it’s not on purpose, doll.”

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Ellie laughed, sticking her tongue out at him, “but I’ll deal. I’m getting good at waiting.”

“I’m sorry, doll. Are you sure it’s okay?”

Biting her lower lip again, she nodded, and raised her hand up in between them, pink finger out. “Definitely, pinky promise,” She teased, daring him with her eyes. Ollie raised his hand as well, lacing his own pinky with hers, shaking their hands up and down twice to seal the promise, but didn´t let go of her after, linking their fingers together as she smiled at it. Before he could see it coming, though, Ellie pulled from their hands, using his chest as leverage as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. It was fast and it surprised him, her crystalline laugh bringing him back as she pulled away. “So, not walking in, then,” the redhead nodded, more to herself than for him, and she let go of his hand. Pensive, Ellie turned around and looked inside, searching for something but he couldn´t be sure of what. A moment or two later, she walked back inside and came back to the door with an armful of pillows and blankets. “We can have a picnic on the floor, and that way you’re not coming in. The room in front is empty so we wouldn´t be bothering anyone. Are you up for it?”

Oliver smiled at her, because he would be up to anything she asked, and he took a blanket from her hands, throwing it on the floor, half inside the room and half on the hallway. “Of course, doll, let’s set it up.”

They set the pillows on the floor, hers against the opened door and his against the arch of the door, and she let him set the tray of food in between them as she went to grab two water bottles, some cans of iced coffee and sodas, two paper straws and some napkins, placing them on the floor by the tray. Ollie sat down, careful to stay outside the room, trying to respect his boundaries, and he leaned his back against the frame, watching her as she sat down in front of him, her back against the opened door, legs crossed. She was closed enough to touch, the curve of her bum grazing his foot, and he knew if he leaned down, he could pull her close and kiss her.

When she finished setting everything up, Ellie smiled up at him, a delighted expression on her face, like a little kid, as she handed him one of the forks. “Here, dig in.”

“Were you going to eat all this on your own?” Ollie asked, grinning, as he looked at the giant plate of onion rings and the enormous salad, and she grinned right back at him.

“Anxiety. I couldn´t think what to get. Would probably not even have finished half of this all on my own, to be honest,” she admitted, grabbing a ring with her fingers and biting on it.

He was enchanted by her movements, his eyes following her fingers and her wrists and her parted lips and the way her jaw tensed and relaxed as she chewed. Ellie had become a mythical sort of entity for him, making her way into his lyrics and his songs and his mind and his thoughts without him even realizing, and talking to her the past week had made her even more of a perfect idea. Seeing her in New York hadn´t helped, but he hadn´t have time to watch her and study her back then, too little time to enjoy her company. Now, though… There she was, sitting with her legs crossed, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, hair in a ponytail, bare knees moving up and down softly, as if she was dancing. It was even better than what he had imagined, golden freckles and red lips, and he stared until he realized he was doing it, blushing and lowering his gaze to the salad, forcing himself to take a bite, do anything that would avoid her noticing he was behaving like a lovesick puppy.

“How do you feel?” Ellie wondered, an onion ring against her lips, her head cocked to the side.

“Happy,” He replied before thinking it over, surprising himself at how easy it came out. For a moment, Oliver worried she would scoff and belittle his reply, but the redhead just laughed.

“I mean, after a show. Are you tired? On a high? Exhilarated?”

Oliver left his fork on the plate and hugged his bended knee closer to his chest, thinking his answer over. “All three of them. I’m usually all three of them, plus exhausted, mentally and physically. I’m all of that now, but not just for the show,” He admitted, winking at her, loving the way her cheeks tinged bright and red.

“So do I exhaust you mentally?” Ellie teased, eyes wide, pretending to be offended.

“What? No!” Sometimes he wondered how did he always manage to say the wrong thing around her, even if she took it as a joke. “That’s not it at all, that’s not-“

“Ollie. Relax.” Leaning forward, she placed a hand on his knee, squeezing gently once, and tapping absentmindedly as she kept talking. “I’m just teasing you. I know you meant the corny stuff. You can´t help yourself, it’s sad, really.”

The drummer snorted, unable to stop himself, and he smacked her hand once, covering with his after. “It’s not sad,” He protested, his eyes focused on the contrast of his own tanned skin against her pale freckled one. Scraping the back of her palms softly, he dragged his fingers down her knuckles and her nails, pulling her fingers up so he could lace them with his, smiling at their hands. It felt so natural, so comfortable, her hand in his, his thumb brushing her palm, and it always surprised him a little when she let him.

“I missed you,” Oliver admitted, gazing up at her without moving his head, unsure of how she would react.

Instead of pushing him away, Ellie smiled, more to herself than anyone else, and nodded, squeezing his fingers. “I missed you too. I didn´t really…. realize I did until we started talking again, though.”

“What would you have told me if I had picked up when you called me in June?” With her hand in his, it was easy to feel bold and confident, and asked her anything he was curious about.

The redhead chuckled, a soft, pure sound that rang in his head like good wine. “I don´t know, I remember I didn´t really think that much? I had heard all the drama and some very mean comments and then I spent a long time talking myself out of and into calling you. I didn´t know if you even remembered me at all and I didn´t want to feel the shame of re-introducing myself to you on the phone…”

“Elle, of course I remember you. I would n-“

Tugging from their entwined hands, Ellie leaned down closer to him to place her free hand against his face, her index fingers effectively silencing his mouth. “I know now. I had no fucking clue then.”

“But I-“

She pressed her finger more firmly against his lips, grabbing his jaw with her thumb and middle finger. “You asked me something, dude. I know you kept some fuzzy photo of us, for whatever reason. And I kept your shirt. For whatever reason, too. But then I was just anxious about calling and I didn´t think more than that. But if you had picked up, I would have… probably asked you how you were. If you needed help, or… anything. If I could help with something.”

“And if I’d said I needed you?” Oliver asked against her finger, and she looked at him, eyes gleaming with something he couldn´t place.

“If you had told me you needed me, then…. I would have been there for you, in any way you would have needed me.”

He stared at her in silence for a moment, hyperconscious of the points of contact of their skin. Her index on his lip and the rest of her fingers on his jaw and neck, her other hand in his, still against his knee, her long hair brushing his trouser clad leg. She smelled of winter and flowers and strawberries and smoke and a tad of beer and spilled soda; she smelled like her perfume and she smelled like a show spent on the floor, the closed bodies and the smoking and the food and the drinks. She was so close now that he could see the specks of blue and green and dark gold in her eyes.

“Never hated Isabel more than I do now, doll.”

“Why?” She seemed unsettled by his sudden statement, curious.

“Because if she hadn´t leaked my number, I would have been able to talk to you. Maybe see you.”

To his surprise, the redhead laughed and tap his nose with her index finger before moving away from his lips to cup his chin. “We’re here now, though, right? Maybe you wouldn´t have wanted me there then.”

“Oh, love. I definitely would have wanted you with me. I went to your show because I missed you and you made me feel less…. frazzled and used.”

“I really, really want to kiss you again right now,” Ellie confessed, and before he could tell her to do it, to please go ahead and get closer and kiss him, she patted his chin once and then moved back, sitting with her back against the door again. “But we said no funny business.”

“No funny business,” He repeated, not because he agreed, but because he needed to form those words himself to understand what she meant. “Is snogging funny business?”

“Well…” She grinned, mischievously, batting her eyelashes innocently at him, “not really. But definitely when it’s done well and with expertise. Your hands on my ass didn´t count as Funny Business the other day, though.”

“Maybe I suck!” He laughed, leaving forward as he tugged their hands to make her move towards him, having to use her hand against his crossed leg for leverage.

“I know you’re not! You weren´t terrible like five days ago, it’s probably for all the fame and the pretty girls throwing themselves at you. Pretty boys too, probably!” Ellie laughed as well.

“Alright, but maybe I got worse. There’s only one way to be sure.”

“Maybe I’ll let you kiss me later, but you should eat now. And drink some coffee. You just got off a huge tour, dear, you need sustenance.”

“I need at least one little, tiny kiss?” He insisted, and he watched he roll her eyes, sigh a little, and then move her legs so she was kneeling towards him, her free hand on his shoulder, still holding his other hand in hers. Before he could blush or get excited, Ellie leaned down, close enough to breath her in, and kissed his nose.

Pulling back quickly and letting go of his hand now, the redhead sat back down on her heels, laughing at his expression. “There’s your kiss.”

Oliver pouted, “That’s not fair.”

“Should have been more specific, then,” Ellie shrugged, still laughing, as she handed him a can of iced coffee. “Drink, and maybe I tell you a secret.”

“What a secret?” Ollie asked, but he grabbed the can and opened it after cleaning the edge with his sleeve.

“If I tell you, then it stops being a secret, right?”

Sighing, Oliver drank half the can in one go and grabbed his fork and the salad, “Alright, I’m eating. Tell me your secret.”

Ellie waited a moment, scrunching her nose up at him and sticking her tongue out as he started finishing the salad, smiling at him, and Ollie wondered if she was gathering herself up, or maybe coming up with a good enough secret she hadn´t have when she offered to tell him one. As he took the third bite, though, she spoke, her voice soft and low, as if she was trying to avoid being loud and disrupting something.

“… I watched the show last night.”

He could have choke, and he almost spat chicken and lettuce and dressing all over the blanket, but managed to regain his composure before any of that happened, swallowing hard before he could breathe out: “You watched?”

“Yeap,” Ellie nodded, motioning for him to keep eating as she continued her tale. And he was sure he would be more than happy to hear her talk about anything for hours, but this involved him in some way, so he liked it even more. “I wasn´t sure how would I feel so I made up a lie about a business meeting to give me an out if I needed it. So I dropped Sophie off at your hotel earlier, but hours later she called because she had forgotten her camera and something a friend asked you guys to sign, so I had to go to the stadium. I almost went in with her. Everyone seemed to be having a good time and the opening act was good and I was very close to go in. But then I thought about you and how it would be and what if you hated that I was there, but also what if you didn´t. What if I listened to your song and it was weird, because I knew it was about me? What if I liked it but also what if I didn´t? What if I couldn´t hide it or pretend or be calm and collected? I was… I felt overwhelmed and a little panicked, and I walked out but since I wasn´t in my right state of mind, I still have no clue where I was. A security guy found me and since I still had my lanyard to get in and out of the stadium, he asked me if I wanted to go to the VIP spot, which I didn´t. But I asked if it was possible to get to the pit? So he showed me the side entrance and told me to find him when I wanted to leave. Andy, that’s his name, you should get him a bonus.”

“I’ll buy him a car, anything he wants,” Oliver assured, making her chuckle.

“That’s probably good too. So I watched from the floor yesterday too. You guys were amazing, and so… electric and magnetic. I loved the show. It’s hard not to fall in love with your stage personas, and it’s even harder not to let yourself be drown in the music and the atmosphere and the exhilaration of the show.”

Taking his iced coffee and drinking a swig, Ollie asked her, “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Fell in love.”

The redhead grinned, despite her face burning hot and red, and he knew right away he wasn´t going to like the answer, even if it was a lie. At least, he really hoped it was. “Oh, yes. Definitely. Malcolm is just enchanting. I was going to ask you for his number, that’s why I let you stay.”

Oliver gasped, offended at her words and dropping his fork against the now empty plate, “That’s not true!”

“You don´t think Malcolm is enchanting? He’s so good and talented, and he’s adorable with his guitar and forgetting his lyrics for that one song!” She laughed.

And he knew she was teasing him, but he wasn´t sure, and he didn´t like not being sure. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. I’m not here just so you can have his number.”

Wide smile still on her lips, Ellie stuck her tongue out at him. “Of course not. But he is definitely adorable.”

“I know he is, but that’s not-“

“Oliver. Babe. Dearest. The guys are great, but you’re the one I couldn´t get my eyes off of. You were so…. Man, you’re so hot when you’re drumming. Even from afar. It’s like you’re banging to your heart’s content and you’re giving it your all and it’s hard to think straight while you’re up there. Which is why I panicked today too. Because I loved seeing you on stage. And it still feels wrong with Lizzie. And I wasn´t sure how I would react, or how she would react, or how you would react. And I…. spiraled a little, locked myself in the car and all.”

Blushing at her words, Ollie cleared his throat, looking to the floor, flustered but delighted. “I… So you’re saying it was hard not to fall a little bit in love with me…?”

She scrunched her nose up, probably regretting her choice of words, but after a second she shrugged and dared him with her eyes on his. “The you on stage. He’s hypnotic and seductive and a little bewitching.”

“You like me,” He grinned as wide as he could, and she blushed even more, but didn´t argue right away.

“Your stage persona. How could I not?”

“You like me,“ Ollie insisted.

Rolling her eyes, the redhead bit her lower lip, trying not to smile back. “Okay, yes. I like you. You’re pretty.”

“I like you too, doll. A lot. All of you. I also really like your ass in your strappy little contraction from the other day. Especially like you wearing our merch.”

“Funny you’d say that,” Ellie snorted, thrilled, “because that’s exactly what Jem said you would think.”

It was hard not to laugh as well, because Jem knew him too much, and he had a preternatural gift to orchestrate everything, and Oliver wouldn´t put it past him that Jem would have planned it all down. But when she reached for the last onion ring with her right hand, and his eyes followed her movement, he noticed something he hadn´t before, a delicate ring precisely on her ring finger. Suddenly, it wasn´t that hard not to laugh as his eyes latched to her hand, because she had a ring, and it was on that finger, and he remembered Lizzie mentioning something he had brushed away before about her mum being married… but maybe it was the truth.  Oliver hated the feeling that overcame him, helplessness and worry and anxiety mixed with insecurity and curiosity. Because if she was, then…. she had not say a single thing. And what if it wasn´t open and it wasn´t okay with the other person what they were doing? What if he was being the mistress? Ollie knew how much it hurt to be cheated on, and he’d hated to be in that position, but he’d hate it even more if it was with her.

“I heard the strangest thing once…” Oliver trailed off, his eyes still focused on her hand, but he saw her shift a little and look at him, curiously.

“About Jem?” She wondered.

“No. About you.”

Ellie frowned, cocking her head to the side as her eyes bore holes in his face, and he felt his cheeks warm and furious pink. “Oh, boy. What was it?”

“That you’re married,” He blurted out, finally looking at her, on time to catch her raging blush and the confusion in her expression.

“Oh. That…” The redhead sighed, curling her lips to the side. “I’m not really married? Sawyer’s just….. my husband.”

Shaking his head, utterly confused, Oliver frowned back at her, because that made no sense, and he was sure even if he was cold sober, it would still sound off. “I know I drank some earlier, so maybe I’m still little drunk, but right now it sounded exactly as you saying someone’s your husband? But you’re not married? How does that work? Are marriage laws completely different in this weird country?”

“Well…. No?”

Ellie didn´t sound so sure, and the fact he wasn´t getting an honest, direct answer only worked to fuel his anxiety and his fears. What if she was married? What if he was helping her cheat? What if she didn´t like him and was just trying to get even with someone else? What if he was just someone to pass the time while her husband was away at sea, or touring with some bigger, more famous band, or shooting a billion dollars’ movie on the moon, or curing cancer? She must have sense his inner turmoil, or maybe he was transparent, because she kneeled again, and crawled on her knees closer to him until she was between his bended knee and his crossed leg. “It’s not easy to explain.”

“Is it true, then, you’re married? Is it open? What is it what we were doing when I went to New York?” Ollie blurted out, unable to hold her gaze.

“I’m not married. Sawyer’s just…”

“They’re one of your most favourite people in the world, I remember the name, you mentioned them before.”

“Yes, he is. We’re friends, he’s my… He’s my Jem. He’s my work husband, but saying that feels disingenuous because he’s so much more than that. And we have rings, but… It’s not an actual marriage.”

“Is this cheating, then?”

“He’s my Jem. Are you cheating on him by being here with me?” Ellie asked, tapping his forehead once, twice, when he avoided her eyes again, but then she didn´t wait for his answer. “Sawyer is not my boyfriend. He’s one of my best friends and I love him, and we work together all the time so… husband.”

“That makes even less sense, Elle!” Oliver protested, loudly, regretting his volume as soon as he used it, and blushing even more at that.

“I’m trying to explain,” she insisted, sounding a little defeated, which he liked even less. “Sawyer and I are not a couple. We just play one on stage more times than not. And he’s my friend. And he loves me and I love him. You have nothing to worry about and I’m not cheating. I’m not a cheater. I know how much it destroys someone if they’re cheated. And I also try not to lie or hide the truth.”

“But you said he’s your husband.”

Ellie sighed again, trying to find a way to explain that he would accept, but it seemed hard to put it into words. “I like you. Whatever I have with Sawyer, he’s my friend, and he chose the picture I sent you, the wet one? So that should be enough to understand.”

“… He chose that picture?”

“Well, he helped me, I was feeling anxious. I’m not going to tell you that Sawyer means nothing because that’s a lie. But…” She frowned, more at herself, it seemed, than at him, and stopped herself from talking, as if words failed her. Oliver was about to interrupt her silence, tell her he understood, that he had maybe overreacted a smidge, and that she had every right to do everything she wanted, of course, and he shouldn´t have made her feel like she had to explain herself, but he went silent as she placed her hands on his shoulders. Before he could ask or process it, though, Ellie leaned all the way down, and kissed him.

It was an instant wildfire burning between them, her fingers closing tight on his shoulders as his hands went to her hips. He wanted to pull her closer, so close he could feel her heart beating against his skin, but their position was awkward and they were in the hallway, and tearing her clothes off seemed like the kind of funny businesses she had closed off earlier. But then she parted his lips with her tongue, deepening the kiss, making him moan into her mouth, chase after as she moved to get closer, her right knee going over his left one that he had quickly stretched when he felt her get closer, and she was straddling his leg now, her knee brushing hard against his crotch and the growing bulge there. And it was hard to think and it was hard to breath, and he couldn´t help himself as he slid one of his hands under her hoodie, scraping the skin of her thigh all the way up to her ass, squeezing it with his fingers over the lacy fabric of her brief, drinking her whimper in with all of her. Ellie let go of his shoulder in favour of the nape of his neck, clutching his hair tightly on her fist as he moved his hand from her ass to her hip, sliding his thumb under the satin ribbon keeping her pants in place, tempted to pull until they broke or got untied.

But before he could decide on what to do, and as fast as the kiss had started, it ended, and Ellie pulled away, breathless, lips swollen and red, and cheeks flushed. She looked like sex, hot and needy and so, so ready, and he wanted to kiss her again, but she was probably right, because if he started kissing her again, then when would he stop? Reluctantly, he unhooked his thumb from the string of her pants and took his hand from under her hoodie as she sat down on his leg.

“You’re right,” Ollie admitted when his own breathing calmed down. “That definitely counts as funny business.”

That reply made her laugh, and she leaned towards him to kiss his nose. “Told you. But I’ve been thinking about doing that for a while now. Since the airport, really.”

“Me too, so much. I’d say I’ve missed it since it last happened, especially when you sneaked your pants in my pocket, but that sounds wrong,” He chuckled, because why the hell not? Because she was sitting with his leg between hers and she was wearing his band’s hoodie and only a thin, flimsy piece of lace under it. Because he wanted her, and he wanted her to know.

“You’re cute,” Ellie smiled, brushing the small curls at the back of his neck with her fingertips, and sliding her hands to his shoulders after. “We always did have great chemistry.”

“And kissing is a great exercise, so maybe we should be doing it a bit more.”

The redhead grinned at him at his words as he fisted the hoodie around her hips, dragging her that little bit closer up his thigh, her knee pressing against his bulge a smidge too much, making him hiss and close his eyes and focus on the sensation. She shouldn´t be able to make him feel like that with just a brush or just a kiss, yet here he was… harder than he had been in ages, and desperate for something he knew he wouldn´t be getting.

“Maybe you should get a cold shower,” Ellie teased, her tongue out between her lips, and she leaned closer again to kiss his forehead. It was a feathery touch, barely there, but her lips hovered against his face and she kissed him again, smiling to herself. It seemed a waste to focus on her words when her breath fanned out over his face, her hair fell in waterfalls between them, and her lips, wet and warm and so very red, pressed against his right cheek, right under his eye. Once, twice, and then she kissed the other side. Soft and sensual, it was driving him wild, and Ollie didn´t dare speak or move or even think too much. His whole attention was latched onto her fingers on his shoulders, and her hot lips on his face, kissing gently his cheeks, his forehead again, his nose, his eyebrows, his chin, the curve of his jaw… Even breathing seemed like too much, too distracting, too out of place. She seemed so fixated on her ministrations, so concentrated on what she was doing, Ollie wondered what was going on through her mind. And he would have asked her were it not for the spell that had befallen them and enthrall them.

She kissed his lower lip once, and the curve of his archer’s bow, and then she took his upper lip in between hers, and Oliver couldn´t help himself this time and crashed her closer to his chest, chasing her mouth to kiss her properly again. He felt her giggle into his mouth and she let him kiss her, biting his lip gingerly.

“Definitely a cold shower,” Ellie giggled against his lips when they pulled away.

“Are you going to help me?” He tried, already knowing the answer he would get, smiling wide as she shook her head.

“That would defeat the purpose. Go, take a shower, and I’ll clean this up, and then we can sit here again.”

“I don´t want to. I want to stay with you, not be naked in your shower without you.”

She blushed wildly, sheepish smile on her lips. “What about your current… situation?” Ellie teased, licking her lips, her eyes sliding to his crotch and then back at him, and now it was him the one who blushed.

“I’ll worry about my dick, love. I’m not going to jerk off in your bathroom unless you’re there with me watching, so this is what we have to work with,” He laughed, kissing her nose. “No funny business.”

“No funny business,” She repeated, more to herself, it seemed, as if she was trying to convince herself that was the best course of action. Or at least, that’s what he hoped for, because it was exactly what he was thinking now. “Let’s clean this up?”

Oliver shook his head, fingers clutching at her hips, holding her tighter. “Not yet, stay a little more. I like having you here.”

Giggling again, Ellie nodded, “Alright, then, Princess, but this position is a little awkward, hold on.” Kneeling on the floor, holding his shoulders, she tapped his left thigh so he would move it in between hers, so she was straddling his legs now. She sat down on his lap, her legs crossing around his hips, closer than she was before, and it was either innocent or absolutely teasing but his dick was now fully against her body, and he saw the way she smirked and bit down on her lip.

“You, my love, are a tease. A pretty, dirty, beautiful little tease.”

“Ah, but, sir, I’m not even moving!” She pouted a little, innocently, looking up at him through her eyelashes as she rolled her hips, making him hiss and slap her ass once, trying to ignore her soft moan.

“Behave, babydoll. No funny business.”

Her nose scrunched up, half frown and half pout and full adorable. “That was a dumb decision.”

“Come on, babydoll, we can keep it pure,” He laughed.

“Then stop calling me babydoll, tease,” Ellie protested, but she kept her hips still and she passed her arms around his neck. “Do that, and maybe we can work it out.”

“Alright, no teasing in any way. Can I hold your waist, though?”

Nodding, Ellie sighed, leaning her forehead against his, and he hugged her around her middle. “Have I told you already you’re cute?”

“Yes, but I like hearing you say it.”

“Well, too bad, that’s all you’re going to hear from me for now,” she chuckled, tightening her arms around his neck as he started rubbing her waist up and down, gently.

“That’s enough for now, doll. This is enough. I’ve missed you.”

“You told me already.”

“Yes, but not to your face. Not with you in my arms and on my lap, so it feels different. You don´t have to say anything in return, doll. I just wanted you to k-“

“I missed you too. I told you before. Like ten minutes ago,” Ellie laughed.

Sticking his tongue out at her, Ollie kissed her lips once, quick, surprising her. “Tell me something about you you haven´t told me before,” He asked, the same thing she had asked a week ago when he started telling her everything and anything she wanted to know.

“I… have no clue what that would be. I can be totally honest if you ask me, but I always find it hard to just… talk about myself? So if you’re more specific…” The redhead trailed off, shrugging a little, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Alright. Then tell me what do you like about yourself.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “That is not even a little bit easier, Princess.”

“Come on, now. I know it’s hard for you to talk about things you like, but I also know you’re amazing, so you must have something to say.”

“Does saying my tits count as cheating?”

Ollie snorted, surprised, and trying very hard not to look at them. “While they are, indeed, impressive, brilliant breasts, that does sound like cheating, love.”

“Brilliant, huh?”

“Definitely. Dazzling and perfect,” He admitted, his ears tinging pink under her gaze. “Very distracting, like every little thing about you.”

“Okay, then what about my lack of gag reflex?”

Chortling, he slapped her hip once, bringing her attention back. “Do you want me to tell you something I like about you, or myself, first?”

“Yes, please. Not about me, tell me your favourite thing about yourself.”

She was smiling, her forehead against his, looking into her eyes and it was easy to smile back and fall into her spell, comply and do whatever she wanted him to. “I like… I like that I’m kind, and that I always try to choose that. Sunny and sweet, as you said it before,” Ollie chuckled, and he opened his mouth to go on, until he realized what she had done. “Hey!” He protested, offended. “No flipping it on me!”

Ellie was cackling now, like a mad woman, and he couldn´t remain offended at that. “I love hearing you talk.”

“It’s not fair, what if I like hearing you?!”

“Alright… that’s fair. I’m sorry. I don´t feel comfortable talking about myself.” The redhead accepted, puffing her cheeks out. “I like… that I have a great memory? I used to like that I trusted people and that I thought the best of everyone, but clearly that hasn´t been me for a while.”

“Do you think the worst of me?” Oliver asked, curiously, eagerly, not sure yet if he wanted the answer or not. Ellie looked at him, pondering her reply, sizing him up, and then she shook her head.

“I don´t. I don´t think so.”

“Do you trust me?”

This time, she didn´t have to think. “I do. Which doesn´t really seem smart. But… I do.”

“So you trust and think the best of some people, at least. You should still like that about yourself.”

“Jeeze,” Ellie sighed, a soft chuckle following suit. “You would get along great with Sawyer.”

“You’ll have to introduce us, then,” He stated, and he still wasn´t sure how he felt about Sawyer. “What’s your favourite thing about him?”

“About Sawyer?” She asked, and she seemed much more present and willing to gush now, and Ollie wondered if it was wrong to feel jealous, if he had any right, and even if he was jealous, which he couldn´t be sure. He buried his fingers on her hips, grasping at her body and the fabric of her hoodie, drumming softly, trying to get his mind off of anything other than her presence there. “I’m not sure I have one favourite thing. He’s… He’s sweet and caring and loving, and he’s seen the worst of me and he still wants me around, and he’s so so talented and so easy to work with. He’s easy to love and easy to be with, he makes things simple and he makes everything make sense. He… actually…”

Her expression changed, a frown coming over her features, and she bit her lower lip, deep in thought. Ollie gave her a moment or two to gather herself, but when she sighed and muttered a little huh but nothing more, he felt anxious and curious. Tugging a little at her hips, he called her attention. “What? What is it?”

“I just realized something,” Ellie shrugged, focusing on him, but she didn´t continue and he was tempted to stick his tongue out, tickle her, kiss her, anything to get a different reaction.

As she kept silent, Ollie knocked her nose with his, softly, “What is it?” His curiosity was getting the best of him, and slowly sinking into anxiety and he didn´t want to get to that.

“Nothing, really. You and Sawyer, you’re… You guys are a lot alike, now that I think about it. It’s weird,” Ellie admitted finally, a soft smile on her lips.

“Does that mean I’m also one of your favourite people too, then?” He dared, only his fingers tapping on her hips betraying his nerves.

“Currently? You are on definitely up there.” It wasn´t a reply he expected, and Ollie looked at her, confused, eyes wide, which made her laugh. “You asked me, don´t act so surprised.”

“I didn´t know you would agree! I thought you would laugh in my face.”

“Well…. Technically, I did,” The redhead chuckled, brushing his nose with hers.

[javodvarka]

By now, unless you’re living under a rock or incommunicado up on a space Ark, you’ve seen the season 5 trailer for The 100. And you can bet I have some impressions. So strap in, space cowboy.

I have a love/hate relationship with trailers because while it’s great to see new footage, the potential for spoiling something due to the Zapruder-like analysis we use to dissect every little frame really makes me hesitate to go in too deep. Over on Reddit, we picked apart the season 3 trailer until we kinda figured a lot of plot points out that took a bit of wind out of my sails. I guess I’m one of those people who like things to surprise me.

I’m not going to watch this trailer more than five times, which I know probably makes me a Bad FanTM, but I still want a sense of fresh wonder when I watch season 5 and not over-analyze a piece of media which I THINK is intentionally misleading in parts to begin with. Oh, there are some definite “I don’t think this shot really immediately follows the previous one, they just want us to THINK that it does.” We see you, JRoth and company.

Not falling for your shenanigans. Trying to play with our emotions and shit.

First Off, Can We Talk About How Gorge it All Looks?

Let me start out by saying the very first thing that popped into my mind…before the characters, the fighting, the conflict, the angst…I thought “goddamn, there are some really gorgeous shots in this trailer, they’ve really upped their cinematography game.”

I mean, look at this shit:

    LOOK AT IT.

I think the shot of the rover and Clarke on the cliff overlooking the forest is my favorite. That’s the one that got me to lean forward and say “oh hold up, they ain’t playin’, look at this!” But check out that desert sandstorm. Those space pods. That unique angle overlooking Clarke and the wreckage of Polis. There’s a real eye for scope here that I’ve never felt before save for perhaps Jaha and Murphy crossing the Dead Zone in season 2. Many of these shots are serving up all kinds barren earth realness. I can FEEL the sense of loneliness that must eat at Clarke as she explores what’s left of her little piece of earth. If you’re looking for a “show, don’t tell” example of what Clarke’s isolation must feel like…well dude it looks like season 5 is going to deliver visually.

Let me tell you, I’m not a very “let’s take in the scenery” person when it comes to my TV shows and movies. I love great visuals and balk at the overuse of CGI fuckery, but it’s not something that usually sparks off a “dude, did you SEE that?” thought in my brain. So that it’s the first thing that made an immediate impression to me is kind of interesting. And I’m digging it.

I Don’t Know What to Think About Octavia AT ALL and I’m Conflabberated and Conflicterated

Man, I’m so torn with Octavia.

Wait for it…

…………………wait for it……………………………

Where my Umbrugliaheads at??!!

Like, seriously I cannot decide where Octavia sits with me and the trailer does not clarify my position at all. Is she going dark or is she going to be one of the people we can depend on to do the right thing? I see her with Madi and I’m scared of what kind of influence she could exert over her, especially if O’s philosophy and methods diverge from Clarke’s. Octavia likes murder in the key of A and Clarke is more an E minor type of gal.

At times I’ve lamented over the lack of a friendship between Clarke and Octavia, and for obvious reasons their relationship has been chilly. One does not simply get over Clarke’s willingness to let you die in the TonDC bombing. I get the feeling that they only tolerate one another because of their respective relationships with Bellamy, but I REALLY want them to be friends. But now I’m like, what if it never happens the way I want? What if they’re just not MEANT to be friends? What if Octavia doesn’t travel down that “make good” track I desire for her? I have to be fine with that. Not my IP, not my creative endeavor, I’m just along for the wonderful ride.

I will tell you right the fuck now: I don’t trust Octavia one bit. Hells to the no. BUT I WANT TO. That’s my dilemma. And I kinda love the unease this instills in me.

Something that popped in my head about O and the bunker is this: Wonkru is a new thing. So what is the ruleset this new society lives by? Is this something Octavia will have to create? Is she capable of creating laws and rules and consequences for non-compliance after her experience up on the Ark? Her whole existence was pretty much defined by how punitive the Ark society was for just having more than one kid, so how exactly does a person raised and punished by that system create a system for life in essentially the same circumstances? Limited room, limited resources, close quarters, etc. Does she turn to Kane and Jaha for help? I think it’s obvious given their role in her life – and responsibility for some of her pain – that they exert some sort of influence over her. And that leads me to my SWAG (Sophisticated Wild Ass Guess) about O and Jaha.

I think Octavia kills Jaha while in the bunker. I know, this isn’t necessarily revolutionary as this has been speculated for a while now. But I think Jaha goads Octavia into killing him. Let me break it down: Jaha has a messiah complex, a need to save “his people.” Having failed spectacularly the first time with ALIE, guiding Octavia is his second chance.

At the same time, maybe Octavia is in a compromised position by being the leader of a majority Grounder coalition while having a lot of Skaikru’s old leadership in her ear. I think Grounders are going to grumble about this, cast doubt on Octavia’s commitment to ALL people, and Jaha will see sacrificing himself on her sword as a way to consolidate her power and remove any doubt that she’s committed to Wonkru. It moves Jaha’s great mission forward and maybe is a way, in his semi-twisted mind, makes up for his past sins, one of which being enforcing the laws that killed Octavia’s mom.

I’m excited by where O’s story could go. I feel she was kinda a throw-away plot-adjacent character until S4 and now seeing her come into prominence without really knowing what her priorities or intentions are is pretty exciting. But she also scares the poop outta me. And I think my fav part of the trailer was when she growled “choose.” I don’t know what’s happening there, but I’m PRETTY sure it’s a moment of badassery. And I’m smitten with female badasses.

Which makes a great segue to…

Truly Madly Deeply

So, while I’m watching the trailer, I’m quickly falling deeply in love with someone who got maybe less than 20 seconds of screen time: Charmaine Diyoza.

I kinda started sweating it because while she was cool and calm and collected and has a bit of swag, I’m also pretty certain she’s going to fuck our fam up something fierce. So I was like “damn, I better keep this under wraps because Diyoza has me SHOOK, but she’s bad news, can’t let people know I’m into her, right?”

Then I go online and EVERY FUCKING PERSON IS INTO DIYOZA. Well, those in my T100 twittersphere at least, which is curated carefully to only include the coolest yet weirdly deranged fans of this show who are into threesomes and cannibalism and alien theories and hurting one another with emotional gifs from all the emotional shows.

My shame washed away. There were others like me who loved this person who will hurt our beloved characters and we’re so here for it.

But I have to say, in order to make that strong an impression in only ~20 seconds of screen time, kudos on the casting of Ivana Milicevic as Diyoza.

I will declare it outright: I’m firmly on “Team Fuck Us Up, Diyoza.” Please play with every little emotion I have and suck out my soul until I’m a withered husk. I. AM. HERE. FOR. IT.

Also I kinda get the feeling that maybe Diyoza is a “been there, done that, stole the tee shirt” version of Clarke without all the emotion and sentimentality and complex moral conflict that has been Clarke’s brand since the jump. Diyoza is the “fuck it, let’s do it” future (bizarro) version of Clarke who seems waaaaaaaaaaaay more ruthless than our sweet baby Griffin. I am positively giddy at the thought. I love character parallels. And two strong women at cross purpose, neither totally in the right/wrong? Let the queens reign, baby, and let the bodies fall where they may.

Madi Is Kinda Awesome and This Is New For Me

You guys, I usually HATE kids in entertainment. They are the woooooooooooooorst, bizarrely written by adults who somehow forgot every interaction they’ve ever had with a child and instead write them as stupid proto-human beings with the agency of a jar of mayonnaise. Children, how do they work?

But everything I’ve seen so far has me excited as fuck to meet Madi. And am I here for mama bear grizzly Clarke?

If you know one thing about me it is this: I’m all about Clarke “I’m In Charge Now” Griffin. I’m not just here for it. I’ve bought land and am building a home for it. An underground pool for it. A fire pit? Fuck yeah. I’M HERE FOR IT, GONNA PAY PROPERTY TAXES FOR IT, GOING TO BE BURIED IN THE BACK YARD FOR IT, MY ASS GONNA HAUNT THIS LAND FOR IT.

Madi provides a great opportunity to give Clarke some insight into what a little shit children can be to their mothers and give her a new appreciation for Abby. Abby often maddeningly gets the Skyler White treatment from people on Reddit and I’ve gotten to the point of not being able to speak to those people without risk of banishment. I’m such an anger baby, and here comes my anger baby rant…

WE HATE WHEN THE REAL WORLD AND REAL WORLD SHIT WE DEAL WITH ON THE DAILY IS REFLECTED BACK AT US. Who doesn’t have some form of strife with their moms? Moms are sometimes overprotective and hypocritical and irrational AND GUESS THE FUCK WHAT SO ARE THEIR KIDS. We don’t have perfect moms and we are often shitbirds as their kids, so give mumsy a break. And maybe give her a ring.

This shit just gets me mad because some of it is driven by misogyny thinly veiled as “Abby is the worst because reasons.” And my tolerance for male bullshit, white bullshit, straight bullshit, entitled bullshit, regressive bullshit is quickly reaching nil. See, anger baby.

Abby is a very understandable character if you have any empathy for the woman who raised you, wiped your poopy butt, and was likely your primary caretaker your whole childhood. When Abby goes momma bear with Clarke, I get it. Now we’re going to see Clarke in Abby’s shoes and I wonder just how far – how “hypocritical” and “irrational” – she’ll go to protect Madi. And what will our reactions be?

I think a big theme of this season is going to be our own examination of our biases and perspectives in regards to the tables being turned – Clarke is now Abby. Skaikru are now Grounders. Eligius is now Skaikru. Charmaine is now Clarke. How will we stretch our perceptions of people who have motivations we’ve empathized with before? Or hated before? How willing will we be to accept behavior and rationale once the shoe is on the other foot and that once-understandable rationale is now wielded by a “bad” guy?

Alien Shit

You guys, there’s something rolling around in the abdomen of a man (is it MURPHY??!!) and if you know anything about anything, it’s either a sentient yam OR an alien chest burster. I don’t know how many people are freaking out about this, but instead of me trying to freak out in tandem and posit any theories, I will simply direct you to my ex-podcast partner and the Michael Jordan of GIFs: Jo over at May We Geek Again. Warning…she’s kinda really into her theory and passionate about it and like an Alien movie historian and…well…you know….

Enjoy the crazy: https://twitter.com/MayWeGeekAgain/status/974350151358779392

I will say that even the slight possibility of introducing some sort of parasite or Cordyceps or anything from space that becomes a huge threat on earth is exciting as fuck. Leaning hardcore into scifi horror is not something I would have EVER predicted after season 1 and 2, when I thought I knew the show’s brand. But man…if they do this…if they DO THE THING…I’m going to pee myself. And fair to say there will be much gleeful urination from other fans as well. You can use “gleeful urination” in your review quotes, CW.

Wrestling GIF quota met! Yay me! I’m aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawesome.

Quick Hits

Kane is getting into man-bun length hair and I can’t hate on it because I don’t hate man buns oh god there goes my street cred.

This is straight up Dances with Wolves, yo. Tatonka!

Where does O pick up the “love is weakness” line? Is there a world where she becomes a nightblood and takes the Flame?

I dunno how the Flame fits into this season, but I always feel awkward about it because Lexa is in there and Lexa…oof…still a gut punch. Miss you boo.

Adulting looks sooooooooo good on all these characters, especially the menfolk with facial hair like MEN. MANLY MEN DOING MANLY MEN THINGS.

Related: I know a fainting couch is an old-fashioned gendered bullshit thing, but Bellamy and Murphy with facial hair and aged up give me the vapors.

So many misleading cuts/editing in this trailer that it’s hard to really trust much about it. Is that Bellamy with the kobra kai leg sweep on Octavia? Is that Octavia that Bellamy is standing over? Who is anyone really fighting? Who are the fanatics? Who stands against Octavia? Is Zeke friendly? It’s all confusing and misdirecting.

I’m thinking Spacekru gets separated and two or more little groups get down to earth separately…I’d say some go with the Eligius crew and some with Raven.

And I think they get separated because Bellamy decides to only expose a couple of Spacekru’s number’s to the Eligius. He’s just keeping his people safe in a situation full of unknowns, which is prime head AND heart Bellamy.

I’m intrigued by this desert set. Is this shot in Vancouver? Is there some Canadian desert I’m unaware of? Why does some action seem to take place here, a location I would think is hostile to life. IS THERE A DESERT IN SASKATCHEWAN? Is it were all the Sasquatches live? Is Alpha Flight headquartered there?

YES, I MADE AN ALPHA FLIGHT REFERENCE.

The trailer is all things for all people:

Hello good space cleavage Echo!

I worry that I don’t get enough of Raven in this trailer. I want more of her each new season and I feel like I get less than what I need of my sweet, sweet Raven.

Is that a sonic weapon that McCreary is using? TIGHT. Just like Lucio! Except way more murdery.

Did y’all catch that scar across Diyoza’s throat? Could it be a burn from one of those electo-collars they slap on Clarke, or did someone try to cut her throat?

Related: “someone who survives a throat slitting = not to be fucked with” – Jo of MWGA. PREACH.

Speaking of that electro-collar – it’s serving up some major Lincoln-torture-parallels-from-season-1 realness. Lincoln was an unknown potential threat. Clarke is an unknown potential threat…

Is Jonathan is my favorite Fab 5er from the new Queer Eye series?

Kinda diggin’ McCreary’s long mohawk look…he’s serving up Miller from The Expanse realness. Okay, I really need to stop.

Oh lort, don’t even get me started about my fears about who is dying in the finale, because when the cast says they were all weeping, you know it’s a doozy and likely a major player. I think it’s Abby or Kane. But I fear it’s Raven. And if it’s Raven, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.

Not particularly crazy about dialog getting repeated every season. A minor nitpick, but it’s feeling inorganic at this point.

How many people are in what I can only assume are cryosleep pods?

Where was serial killer Vinson? Did I miss him?

The Bunker’s hottest new club is Blood’s Sweet Faire. Featuring battling siblings. Blood. More blood. 90’s emo makeup. Kane in beard. Poor lighting. Depeche Mode almost inaudibly played so you’re like “is that Depeche Mode or is it in my head”? Microbrews.

I lament the lack of more Echo, Raven, Murphy, Emori, Monty, Niylah, Indra, Gaia, and Harper in the trailer. I realize there’s only so much you can show in a trailer, where there’s limited time to get the broad strokes of season 5 across, but I’m INVESTED in all these beautiful people.

Parting Thoughts

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

I know nothing about Canada

TWEET/RETWEET: If you enjoyed this review, could you do me a favor and share / retweet / like it on twitter? I hate to ask this because I hate asking anyone to do anything for me, but I’d really appreciate it.

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST OF THE 100 MUSIC!: Hey people who like sounds entering your ear holes! I have a Spotify playlist, which is music from and inspired by The 100. You can find it right here and marvel at my musical tastes. I keep it up to date with anything featured on the show or in promos.

SHIT YOU SHOULD BE WATCHING WHEN NOT WATCHING THE 100: 

These are a couple ICYMI shows that are excellent and you need to come flail with us on Twitter over these series:

The Expanse – a truly great sci fi series that looks freakin’ fantastic, has a great cast, contains some mind blowing moments, and boasts fuckin Chrisjen Avasarala who can rock a red furred cloak like a QUEEN. I swear all fealty to Chrisjen!

The Leftovers – likely the best TV show ever? IMHO, it has everything, including Carrie Coon, who somehow miraculously started “mainstream” acting as a woman in her 30s. She’s a revelation. This whole show is amazeballs. If you ever want to derail my day, just start tweeting Leftovers gifs at me and I’m ruint. RUINT.

There are some The 100 reviewers/recaps/writers you should absolutely be reading, and I offer them up for your enjoyment; I have no affiliation with any of them, save for being a fan:

Selina Wilken – a mix of passionate fandom and truly professional journalism.

Erin Brown – unfairly beautiful writing. Like seriously, stop being so good.

McKenzie Morrell – recapping her damn face off and great interviews with the cast!

Toni_watches – piss your goddamn pants funny photo recaps.

Jo Garfein – great fandom charity auctions.

Disclosure: this is my own indie site. This is on my time, my dime. Becho is endgame.

The 100 – Season 5 Trailer Impressions By now, unless you're living under a rock or incommunicado up on a space Ark, you've seen the season 5 trailer for…