#you were the last good thing about this part of town \\ promo

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Bees flowers and laser beams

Homelander x fem!reader (superheroine)

warning : fluff (as much fluff the boys can have), kiss (kinda), comfort, homelander is a danger to all including bees, no use of Y/n

Summary : It's World Bee Day and Homelander has to make a video about bees for a pr assignment with the superhero and environmentalist Honey Queen…well it turns out that the superhero of America is afraid of bees. Accidents and approaches are pre-programmed alongside laser beams.

Info : A quick idea and then I had to write it. The bts scene with Anthony who is afraid of the bee is just cute. Have fun reading and have a nice day ;)

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,,The environment is an important part of the earth without a healthy environment we wouldn't exist, no animals and flowers no superheroes like us all need oxygen to breathe but the environment is the most important thing we have….so let's come together on world bee day and plant flowers" the young woman spoke into the camera with a green screen behind her showing the video with data, promo pictures and videos.

Smiling for the last few seconds, she waited for the shrill sound that the recording was over and relaxed again. This whole superheroine thing was still new not even a week ago she was still a small beekeeping club with her friends and had a few small requests, half of which were pornos she was supposed to act in and now she was contacted by Vought was on TV had spent until she couldn't spend anymore and she would meet Homelander in a few moments.

,,Okay that was good just wait in your van or something we'll come get you" she heard Ashley's voice typing on her cell phone with a call on her ear and walking past her in a hurry it was definitely a pace she had to get used to.

Sure, anything you want, thought the superheroine and went into the small van where she found her friends, who immediately bombarded her with questions and congratulations.

They had given everything so hard and now the dream of a big environmental carnival was going to happen, ,,Ashley said there would be several hundred kids and families coming alone," she said and showed a few recordings on her cell phone.

Some of the families were actors and hired influencers but it made her happy to see that the younger ones cared so much about the environment and the bees. ,,You're going to be a little star, Queeny," she said, looking at the big bee lying in her friends' arms and humming as the familiar stroked the soft fur and the dark eyes seemed to radiate joy.

Since awakening her strength to find out what she was and the kitten bee she had once saved with a little sugar water and a roof over her head, Queeny had not left her side.

They were a well-rehearsed team and even if she always wondered whether everything here made sense, she only had to look at Queeny or her friends and what they had achieved.

It would all work out. After a few more moments of practicing with Homelander with her friends, they took a few more photos and Queeny was desperate for more cuddles.

But then the door to her van opened and Ashley picked her up to take her to Homelande, they were in the allotment area of town where they had their beehives and the little shop it was all the pride they had.

,,Remember to smile, stick to the script and when the bell rings it's on," the brown-haired girl reminded her and without saying a word the brown-haired girl turned around and left her standing in front of the little house in the garden. Queeny flew next to her and heard the voice asking her if everything was alright and she replied, taking one last breath to smooth her "costume" before going inside.

The typical smell of wood and honey came to her familiar and relaxed but a smile curled on her lips as she saw Homelander watching the honey on the shelf. ,,I didn't know bee shit could be so colorful," was the first thing he said, pointing to the different colored honeys, a statement that threw her for a loop. this was Homelander, he was older than her.

Everyone knew honey wasn't bee shit, right? A nervous smile on her lips she approached him and held out her hand which he accepted with a sigh, ,,The color changes as the nectar is concentrated into honey and depending on the pollen," she replied and saw him look a little puzzled and then smirk and put his hands up in surrender, ,,All right bee mistress," he mumbled and was about to go back to the jars when he let out a shrill cry.

At first she thought he'd been startled or heard an explosion but he literally stumbled back and pressed himself against the wall, "What-what the fuck is that!" he shouted and his gaze went to Queeny who flew next to her and just looked at him. Homelander's afraid of bees? she asked herself, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the whole situation.

This time it was she who put her hands up defensively and stood in front of her pet and companion, ,,It's all right, don't worry it's my well mascot she won't hurt you" she assured him and was about to tell Queeny to land on the ground but even a movement from the bee seemed to frighten him.

A red laser beam went through the air and Queeny flew out of range just in time, but the superhero had hit the younger girl. ,,Shit-fuck sorry you're ehm fuck," stammered the older one, watching in shock as her insides dissolved into a swarm of bees.

As cute as she was outside with her wings and "costume", her insides were made up of bees, something many people couldn't cope with.

She understood that too, but his reaction wasn't helping at all as he tried to destroy her bees again and again with his laser. ,,Home-Homelander please calm down I have you under control the bees here look" she said and concentrated on rebuilding her body after him letting her mind wander through the little animals and she slowly took on his form.

An image of Homeland in black and yellow surrounded him and came slowly towards him, ,,Bees won't hurt you, the stings will probably even bounce off you," she said calmly and flew in front of him, using a single bee to show how small the sting was, ,,But-but they're so aggressive," he replied, seeming completely oblivious that they were working on a project, that he was the super hero of America, that he could do anything, it was almost cute to see him like this.

Slowly placing her hand of bees on his she was almost afraid he would break every single little worker bee but he let her, ,,Here this is Larry he won't hurt you…he's actually very soft" she said and slowly took on her own form as the group spirit was quite challenging to maintain.

Standing on the ground again, she saw Larry crawl over Homelander's red gloves and lift a small leg in greeting, ,,He says hello," she said and saw the almost amused look on Homelander's face as he held the bee in front of his face and carefully moved his finger to the bee and tapped it, ,,He's really…soft," the blond stated and seemed much more relaxed.

But when Larry lifted off again and put a feeler to the superhero's lips, a fact she felt on her lips, Just wait until I catch you mister, she warned the bee, trying to cool her warm cheeks as she practically kissed Homelander.

But the bee had touched him and Homelander hastily let go, startled that he dodged out into the garden where there were only more bees, ,,Oh shit Homelander calm down!" she shouted and her bee wings started to buzz as she rushed after the flying superhero, which was harder said than done as he was much faster than her bee wings.

But still it was easy to find him as the laser beams went through the air and he tried to catch the bees one by one, which was a bit of a challenge for him, ,,Tell them to stop!," he demanded and continued to flail around to catch the little insects while she tried to dodge his blows.

But after a few moments she had managed it and was in the air in front of him and put a calming hand on his, telling the bees to fly back to the hives, ,,It's all right Homelander, they won't hurt you okay? I promise I'll keep them under control," she said calmly, nodding slightly as she saw his eyes change color and he became calmer, she felt him slowly slide to the ground and cling to her.

She was relieved that he had calmed down but she was also a little proud - not everyone could claim to have saved Homelander from a bee. ,,You don't tell anyone about this, dear bee, do you understand?" he warned, but his voice was not harsh, not filled with hate, he just seemed relieved to have peace from the insects again. Nodding hastily, she detached herself from him and an awkward stilel came between them both.

Before she suddenly felt his hand on her shoulder, she felt his gaze on her and he gave an almost pleased, ,,Well, let's market some honey," and she followed his gaze as they stood in front of the cameras and began the wonderful campaign for World Bee Day…. maybe there was something more to this wonderful day than just colorful flowers and little bees, maybe flowers of affection would open.

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

@thatsthewrongwallcraig

[sleepy-achilles]

I hope you’re feeling a bit better now - I missed your shoutout for asks last night, so sending it now. Would love some ABA Taker and Shawn - lots of Taker calling him boy toy and Shawn being both nervous and excited about it? 🥺

I am, thank you for asking.

I'm just gonna say though, you can send asks in anytime, anyday, even if I don't ask for them, it'll just take me a lil longer to get to them that's the only difference.

Also I love abataker x Shawn and the fact vince didn't even bother putting them in the same ring is a real damn crime.

Hbtaker- My boy toy

I'm doing this in the hbtaker are a tag team world. Because fuck vince.

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

Shawn hadn't notice it. Maybe it was the fact he was always around the man. It was only when others started mentioning it that he began to notice it. And he did not know how to feel about it.

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"How have you never noticed?" Goldust asks. "Because it's not something he does" Shawn shrugs. "It is" Kevin scoffs. Shawn shakes his head. "Not" he huffs as he stands. "Pay close attention. It is." Kevin chuckles. "Sure" Shawn mutters as he makes his way to their promo spot.

He can't fight the smile as he sees the bigger man leaning against the wall waiting. "Hey, your late" Taker smirks. "Sorry, goldust and Kevin kept me back." Shawn shrugs as he moves to the crate the mans stood next to. Shawn doesn't know what's in it, all he knows is, it's his spot. Has been for the longest time. Shawn huffs as he pulls himself onto it as Kurt walks down the hall with vince and the camera crew. "Good thing you came when you did" Taker mutters slipping some tobacco into his mouth. "Sure is" he whispers.

"Michaels! Undertaker!" Vince calls. "What can we do for ya boss man?" Taker asks resting his hand behind Shawn, leaning closer to the man. "Kurt is getting on my nerves" vince states as they move closer. Shawn smirks as Taker chuckles. "Whats new? How does this concern us?" Taker asks. "He's not only having issues with edge and Christian but the Hardy boys" vince tells him. "So find him a tag team partner and let them goto town" Shawn suggests. "I've tried that Shawn. Ain't nobody working with Kurt." Vince sighs. Taker glances at shawn before back at vince. "Fine. I'm sure me and my boy toy can sort it"

Shawns eyes widen.

My boy toy

Oh god the others were right. How long had this been going on?

Shawn feels his cheeks heat. "But we ain't doing it for free. We get a shot at the tag belts and I get to slap him around a bit" Taker smirks causing Kurt to hide behind vince. "Sure. Kurt, you're their bitch now. You come to me once the jobs done and we will talk belts, now goodbye" vince smiles, shaking takers hand and walking off. Shawn tilts his head with a smile and waves at Kurt as Taker smirks and looms over him. "I like it. Kurt angle is my bitch now." Taker chuckles causing the shorter man to gulp. "Dont scare him too soon. It'll spoil the fun" Shawn comments. Taker turns to him. "You are so right boy toy." He states as he holds his hand out. Without thinking, shawn accepts it and lets the bigger man help him down. "Now. Let's go plot. Keep up kurt" Taker hums. "Uh yeah, will so" Kurt nods.

What had vince signed him up for?

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"So..are you two a thing?" Kurt asks. Shawn glances up from his boots. "Who? Me and taker?" Shawn asks. Kurt just nods. "No..why do you ask?" Shawn questions. "Oh I just assumed because he refers to you as his boy toy and well you both seem close physically" Kurt admits. Shawn looks down as his cheeks heat up. "Thats just his love language" Taker comments as he walks on, clearly only catching the last part. "Give him time and he'll be with it like you" Taker smirks at Kurt as he moves to shawn.

Shawn bites his lip as takers big hands land on his shoulders. "Isn't that right boy toy?" Taker asks. "I wouldn't say so. He shouldn't be staying long enough." Shawn mutters. "Ooo look at that kurtie! Not even my boy toy wants you around!" Taker laughs massaging shawns shoulders, oblivious to the younger man blush and sudden nerves. "Thanks" Kurt huffs leaning back. "Leave him takes" Shawn whispers. "Im just teasing. Besides I've got a plan to deal with the Hardys and edge" Taker states. This causes Kurt to perk up. "What?" Kurt asks. "Now if I told you that, I'd have to kill ya" Taker smirks.

This catches shawns attention causing him to raise his head slightly. Taker shifts so his hands are either side of Shawn on the bench and leans down to whisper in the mans ear.

Shawn hates the way a shiver goes up his spine, how his gut tightens and a flush builds on his face. This wouldn't have happened if he didn't start to notice the stupid my infront of boy toy.

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Taker smirks as he leans against the wall. His boy toy was doing a perfect job. He knew Shawn still had some of his old skills, reborn or not, there were just somethings you couldn't take from the heartbreak kid.

He watches as Lita bites her lip and nods, a slight flush filling her cheeks as shawn continues to whisper to her.

"Whats going on?" Kurt asks quietly as he joins taker. "None of your business. Besides, the less you know the better, right?" Taker asks. "True..I guess" Kurt huffs as he watches Shawn. "Eyes off Kurt." Taker warns. Kurt frowns and looks away. "Whats the deal with you two?" Kurt asks. "What did I say about sticking your nose into my business?" Taker questions. "Right. Sorry" Kurt whispers shrinking down as shawn walks over.

"How'd it go boy toy?" Taker asks, placing a hand on shawns hip to stop him infront of him. "She fell for it. Made me feel like a right asshole, now I just need to talk to edge." Shawn shrugs. "Oh my boy toy! You did amazing" Taker smiles. He smirks quickly as he spots the blush on shawns face as he looks down.

Taker isn't stupid. Unlike the rest he's been able to read Shawn for years. He just wishes the smaller would have more confidence in himself.

"You talk to edge and I'll treat you with pizza" Taker smirks. "Fine" "that's my boy toy" Taker chuckles, patting shawns ass as he walks by. Taker smirks knowing Shawn is walking down the hall blushing. Kurt looks at him shocked. "Are we actually going to confront them?" Kurt asks. "Oh no. We plant the seed and let it grow on its own" Taker chuckles, patting Kurt's shoulder before walking the opposite way of Shawn.

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Shawn rests his head against the trucks window as they drive. "How'd it go with edge?" Taker asks looking over at shawn. "Keep your eyes on the road." Shawn orders quietly. Taker chuckles and shifts his gaze. "Edge brought the bait. They both did..now we just sit back and watch them destroy each other. Even if the groups don't end up splitting, it'll take their attention off kurt" Shawn states.

The pair sit in silence for a moment. Shawn bites his lip and sits up straight, glancing at taker. Shawn isn't stupid. The mans attractive as fuck. Especially his new form. "Whats the...um what's up with the whole my boy toy thing?" Shawn asks quietly. "What do you mean?" Taker asks. "You know, calling me your Boy toy" Shawn tries. Taker chuckles slightly causing shawns cheeks to start heat up with humiliation. "You are my boy toy"

Shawn stares at him. "W-what?" Shawn asks. Taker looks at him, keeping eye contact as he suddenly parks the car. Shawn looks to see them at their hotel. He looks back at taker as the big hand rests on his thigh and he can't help the nervous swallow. Taker leans in closer. "Why would I lie to people? You are my boy toy. Gotta make sure they all know." Taker mutters, his eyes examining shawns face. Shawns pupils are dilated, his face is burning with embarrassment and his lips are parted slightly. "I mean-" taker gets cut off by a pair of lips.

Taker growls as he kisses Shawn back, his hand tightening on shawns thigh.

Shawn suddenly jerks back, his back hitting the truck door and his hands shooting up to cover his mouth. "Sorry" he muffles out. Taker smirks and leans back. "For what?" Taker asks. Shawn lowers his hands and watches Taker. "You mean it? Or is it some possessive shit?" Shawn asks quietly. "I've always meant it" Taker states. "I aint playing with your feelings Shawn." Taker adds.

Shawn leans forward, blue eyes scanning takers face. "Prove it" he whispers. Taker just smirks and undoes shawns seatbelt. "Alrignt."

----------sorry--------------------------------------lol----------

Kurt watches in amazement as it all kicks off between edge and matt. "Oh wow...you guys really did sort it" he huffs. "Shh" Shawn shushes. "I told you, my boy toy can do anything" Taker smirks, arm around shawns shoulders as they watch. Shawn still can't fight the blush, especially after last night. "Well, we've got a meeting with the boss man. So, see ya later kurt" Taker states before leading Shawn off.

Kurt just stands there.

He believes they've done it, he just can't prove it.

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NOTES

I lost track of this lol

I'm sorry

It's been like five hours of me working on this between other things. Completely and utterly lost track of the plot, all I know is taker was supposed to call Shawn his boy toy a lot.

I hope I delivered

Enjoy :)

Oh and thank you all for the support and help with my recent sadness. I appreciate you all

[mercuryonparklane]

I’ve been out of town, so I just saw an anon I received last week regarding Taylor and bearding and the possibility of late-stage Tayliz that sparked some thoughts. The Anon asked that I do not post their theory, so instead I will just share some of my own thoughts based on recent events.

As I have mentioned in the past, I personally believe Taylor is a lesbian and that every public relationship she has had since she became famous has been a bearding situation (sometimes mutual, but not always). Thus, I do believe that Joe was a beard. And, for what it’s worth, I also do not believe that she secretly dated any other men like Martin J, Will A, etc.

I usually prefer not to delve too deeply into the men because, tbh, I don’t really think they are relevant in any material way other than as cover for her private life and identity and real relationships/flings/hookups with women. They are, and always have been (from Joe J to Joe A) part of her marketing strategy and it has been extremely successful.

I don’t really care to speak on Joe too much, especially now that he seems to be out of the picture, but in light of recent events, I will reiterate that he truly is/was a mirrorball. Which is exactly why he was the perfect beard. He was a working actor, in Oscar bait movies, but not famous enough that it would distract from Taylor’s public persona. He was “private” and she was able to feed enough of the few tidbits he threw out about himself/his family back into the music to strengthen the narrative and keep up appearances. It was all about holding up a narrative that they were the perfect couple. It was all about giving the Swifties enough to keep them satisfied, but not giving away too much, in order to keep the narrative flexible.

Obviously, there was never going to be an easy way out of this relationship because of how much Swifties bought into them being “End Game”, but it will definitely be interesting to see where she goes from here.

I won’t get my hopes up about her actually finally coming out, but I still stand by the idea that she is either someone who has used the lgbt community for clout/image or she is gay. There has been too much signaling and you just can’t make yourself the sheriff/mayor of the gaylor park and say that “gay pride” is one of the few things that makes you who you are and be a well-informed/well-intentioned ally who is 100% heterosexual.

And to the anon, in terms of late-stage anything, I’m not really convinced that she has reconciled with any of her ex-girlfriends (at least not recently), but who knows… I think she has learned how to be a lot more careful the last 6/7 years about letting people see her as openly vulnerable as she was with Karlie. Speaking about Tayliz specifically, I think there could have been some kind of hookup later on (maybe in the 2015-2019 timeframe… honestly, same goes for a potential Swiftgron hookup), but I don’t think they ever had a full on, committed relationship at any point (even in the early days).

And, in terms of the bearding being beneficial PR for both parties involved, it has absolutely continued to be good promo for both her and all the men she has allegedly (but I believe she has not actually) dated. Hell, it’s still being utilized by most of the parties involved to this day. They’ve all gotten a lot of mileage (media attention/fan interest) out of these alleged relationships.

Also, I completely agree that the whole idea of “Taylor is a bad actor” is such bs. She is extremely talented at performing live. Now, does being able to convincingly perform her own songs live on stage or being able to charm an audience mean she has the skills to disappear into (or even just convincingly portray) another character? No. But she is the best when it comes to playing the role of Taylor Swift, the public persona. So, do I believe she could convincingly fake emotion while performing her own songs? Yes, and I don’t think she’d be as successful as she is if she couldn’t.

[anthrcpcmcrphic]

BUT DON’T BE AFRAID OF THESE THUNDERCLOUDS

independent LOGAN ECHOLLS of VERONICA MARS written by KG

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with Ethan’s suggestion

Description | Ethan suggests something that you had never seen coming - but for how long will you be able to resist him?

Content | smut with a bit of fluff

Pairing | Ethan x fem!Reader

Word Count | 3138

Tagging | @ginny-lily @mywritingonlyfans

***

"You did not just ask me that."

Ethan didn't even seem bothered by your shocked reaction. Instead, he simply kept looking at you, waiting, as if he had posed a completely normal question. You were certain it wasn’t though - who the hell just came out and asked one of their best friends to start hooking up? Surely this wasn’t just you thinking this was more than odd. You couldn’t stop looking at him, relaxing on a lounger in the sun, book still open in his hand, and how he didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, come one, Y/n,” Vic interjected from where she was relaxing on a pool float. “Poor Ethan hasn’t been with anyone since the pandemic started. The least you can do is help him get laid.”

“Get laid by me?!”

“Who else?” Victoria laughed. “It’s not like he can go out and pick up someone when we go on a promo tour in a week. We’re barely allowed to meet anyone as a safety measure.”

You shot her a pointed look and Victoria being your friend for the longest got it immediately.

“And no, I’m not gonna hook up with him. So it’s gotta be you.”

You couldn’t believe the conversation you were having. Had everyone simply gone crazy? Surely, Thomas wouldn’t be on their side in this, right? You watched as he lazily strolled towards your loungers, cigarette in hand.

“Thomas!” You shouted over at him. “Ethan wants me to hook up with him!”

“Fucking finally,” Thomas laughed as you stared back in horror. Was everyone in on this madness? “He’s been moping around for ages. About time he gets laid and relaxes.”

“See?” Ethan interjected. “Everyone thinks it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea!”

“Fine,” Ethan shrugged. You hated how much he didn’t seem to care - how he had posed a question like that without an ounce of awkwardness and how your rejection didn’t seem to faze him in the least. You knew he was open about sex and sexuality, you’d been part of countless conversations among the band and had seen him pick up people at parties more than once, but this unnerved you. "If you change your mind, I'm available."

And with that Ethan went back to his book, Victoria went back to floating around the pool and Thomas went back to smoking his cigarette. But you weren't going to go back to anything, because whether you liked it or not, Ethan's suggestion would continue playing in your head for the unforeseeable future.

***

Three days. It had been three days since that fateful day at the pool and you could barely stand to look at Ethan. It wasn't because you were embarrassed - you all spoke about such things quite openly - nor were you angry at him having asked in the first place - if anything, it was flattering, a man such as Ethan considering you attractive in that way. It was more of a constant thought in your head whenever you were in the same room with him or he talked to you or you looked at him or he so much as popped into your mind. You kept lying awake at night, intrusive thoughts of Ethan towering over you clouding your brain. You didn't know what it was but you knew you didn't like it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as Victoria approached you, taking a couple of tomatoes you had spread in front of you and started cutting them up. You had been in charge of making dinner most days, with one or the other coming to join you in your cooking endeavors sooner or later. Today it seemed to be Vic, who was giggling away beside you, quite obviously dying to tell you something.

"And what is up with you?" You asked, a smirk on your face. You were happy your friend seemed so giddy and it had you itching to know why.

"I have a date!" Victoria was never one to keep things like these to herself for long - whenever she was positively excited about something, the world simply had to know. "Her name's Paula, she's on holiday here and we're going to go out for wine."

"Just wine?"

"Well, I'm gonna say, don't expect me back here tonight." She couldn't stop herself from smirking and then breaking out in another round of laughter and you joined freely. Good for her.

"I miss dates," you mused. "Or maybe - I don't know. Maybe I just miss at least staying the night with someone."

"You really need to get laid, babe."

"Who needs to get laid?" Damiano had appeared without warning, sneaking up on the two of you and pinching both of your waists teasingly before hopping on the counter next to where you were working. A slice of tomato was stolen and ended up in his mouth before you could react, only hitting him in the arm when it was much too late.

"Y/n," Victoria answered nonchalantly. You stared at her in annoyance but she didn't even catch your eye.

"So does Ethan! You guys should fuck."

"Not you too," you groaned. All of this seemed like a bad joke. In fact, you were starting to wonder if this was all some weird plot your friends had to get you to sleep with Ethan. But why would they?

"Huh?" Damiano sounded surprised but you didn't put it past him to simply put on a good act.

"Ethan asked her to hook up the other day."

"No way!" Damiano exclaimed. "He actually, fina- I mean, he actually asked you that?"

"Yup, and she shot him down," Victoria explained. You were getting more annoyed by the second. Especially because it felt like your love life (or lack thereof?) was being discussed without you. Plus, you couldn't shake the feeling they knew something you didn't.

"Aw, poor Ethan. You know, you should really give him the chance. Make the most of the fact that you've both got the house to yourselves tonight." Damiano's eyebrow wiggle earned him a tomato slice to the face due to pure irritation on your side. He wasn't bothered, quickly shoving it into his mouth and happily munching away on it.

"Wait, what do you mean? Where are you going?"

You sounded much more panicked than necessary. So what if you were alone in the house with Ethan? You'd survive. Easily. You'd read a bit of your book, maybe watch a movie, go to bed. You didn't even have to spend time with him. Right?

"Going out with my girlfriend, she's in town for work. Not sure where Thomas is off to but he's already left" Damiano shrugged, finally hopping off the counter to hopefully stop being in the way. "So, if there's anything you want to do, do it tonight."

***

So this was it. You were alone with Ethan. No, this was nothing. So what if you were alone with him? Not like it was going to change anything at all.

You had said your goodbyes for the night to the two lovebirds, wishing Victoria the most possible fun on her little date, before pouring yourself a glass of wine and retreating to the patio. You had no idea where Ethan was and you didn't mind.

The sun was setting, the temperature was more than bearable and you had your book lying next to you. Eyes closed trying to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, your hand grasped the stem of the wine glass, and fuck that moth scared the living daylights out of you. And caused you to spill your wine all over your blouse. Red wine. Crap. One was supposed to wash those out immediately, right? Right? You realised you had no idea, as you sprinted towards the upstairs bathroom, already unbuttoning for fast removal.

You threw the door open, feet set to move towards the basin, when you realised you weren't alone in the room. It happened in slow motion, as much as you hated the cliché of it all.

Ethan's back was towards you, strong, hard muscles visible under an array of water droplets that were slowly, slowly making their way downwards, hypnotising you and keeping your gaze locked on them. Your eyes were still travelling lower and lower when he noticed your presence, turning around out of reflex, and you could not help but notice he was not wrapped in a towel, nowhere close, when your eyes fell on-

Oh.

Oh.

In a rare moment of clarity, you tore your gaze away, looking up at his face instead, just to find him eyeing up your cleavage. Your blouse was halfway undone, putting your white lace bra on full display. Then his eyes snapped away and looked into yours instead. For a second, it felt like the world was standing still. Your brain only worked for another moment before it decided to let your body - or potentially your heart? - take over.

You told yourself 'fuck it' - or maybe you said it out loud, judging by the sudden smirk appearing on Ethan's face - and reached for the man in front of you. He reciprocated without hesitation, pulling you in and meeting your mouth with his, as he walked you backward until you hit the wall. His body felt hot against yours, providing a stark contrast to the cold tiles pressing into you. His hands cradled your face softly, fingers stroking along your cheeks, while he kissed you, open-mouthed, in a way that left you breathless.

If you had ever had doubts that sex with Ethan would not be worth it, they had evaporated into thin air altogether.

His hands had started roaming your body, finally landing on the last buttons of your blouse. You had expected him to slowly open them up, but instead, he tore the fabric apart in one swift movement, buttons flying and hitting the ground with little clacking noises. You wrecked your mouth from him for a moment, staring at him in both surprise and awe.

"Spiacente," he murmured, although he didn't look all that sorry. "I couldn't help myself. I can get them sewn back-"

"Ethan, stop talking and start fucking me."

Your bold words took both of you by surprise but none of you minded, simply relieved that you were on the same page. His hands were now grasping tightly onto your thighs and, and without giving you a warning, he lifted you up, still pressed against the wall. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively and he took a step back, finding his strength and balance, and slowly carrying you into his bedroom.

You couldn't stop staring at him. Ethan's beauty was a sight to behold on any given day, but the way his lips looked kissed after just a short while and his eyes had that kind of shine to them that had never previously been directed at you, it felt like you were looking at something ethereal. Never mind the fact that you knew he was completely naked, not just the toned chest that was pressing into your torse, but everything else. Hell, you were sure you felt a certain something press into the back of your thigh quite shamelessly.

He dropped you on his bed, leaving you to bounce slightly on the mattress as you lied on your back. He looked like he was about to devour you and you just knew you'd bend to his every wish.

Without any further hesitation, Ethan moved onto the bed, immediately grabbing onto the shorts you were wearing and slowly pulling them down your legs. He held eye contact with you the whole time and you were convinced you had never seen anything sexier in your life. Your panties were the next piece to leave your body. Normally, this would be the point you got nervous about, crossing your legs, hiding behind hands, anything to protect what little of your modesty you had left, but this was different. Ethan took all shame away from you.

"Is this okay?" He asked, as he slowly crawled upwards, spreading your legs and leaving hot, wet kisses along your calves. As much as you appreciated him asking for consent, you almost had to laugh - at this point in time, you had lost all willpower to deny him anything. So, with a blissful smile on your face, you eagerly nodded at him, your hand reaching down and tangling itself into his hair. He groaned as you gave a little tug and the sound was more than enough to get you even wetter than you already were.

At least that was what you thought up until Ethan put his mouth on you. You had been expecting a bit more foreplay, maybe his fingers, but instead you felt his tongue lick along the length of you. Your moan loudly echoed through the room and you had never been so glad that Vic, Thomas and Damiano had deserted the two of you in the house.

Your grasp on his hair tightened as he started flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue. The fact that you could feel his hair tickling the inside of your thighs only seemed to make you more sensitive. Suddenly, one of his fingers entered you, quickly to be joined by a second. Your back arched off the bed in an involuntary reaction as your breathing became more and more laboured. You could hear- hell, you could feel him chuckle against you.

With a sharp tug, you pulled his head away from you.

"I'm not going to be able to take much more, Ethan," you confessed. He looked up at you with wide eyes, chin wet from going down on you and fingers still slowly moving in and out, and you momentarily forgot what you meant to say. "So if you wanna fuck me, I suggest you get a move on."

He didn't need to be told twice. You still sighed in disappointment when he actually removed his fingers from you but you were quickly distracted by him moving them to your mouth and slipping them in. You eagerly sucked on them, twirling your tongue around them, tasting your own arousal, and his composure was slipping with every second he looked at you. He quickly pulled his fingers from your mouth to crawl further up your body, his cock moving against your leg. He was so well endowed it would have almost been frightening if you hadn't been so turned on.

Ethan kissed you with a force that was unparalleled. There wasn't even a question about who was in control. As his fingers trailed from your neck down past your collarbones you both suddenly seemed to remember you were still wearing a bra. You made short work of the piece of fabric, carelessly throwing it across the room, and he thanked you by squeezing your soft flesh in the most delicious way. You repaid the favour by letting your hand wander to his cock and giving him a few strokes. He immediately let out the most sinful moan you had ever heard, head collapsing onto your cleavage.

"I don't think you need any more help from me down there," you giggled.

"With you lying under me like this, I sure don't."

Moving your legs around his waist once more, you slowly guided him into you, your walls swallowing him bit by bit, careful not to stretch you out too fast with his size. It felt like heaven on earth. You both moaned in pleasure as Ethan slowly started moving, making sure you were comfortable as he looked into your eyes, while you broke the eye contact time and time again, too overwhelmed to leave your eyes open every time he thrust into you. You kept grabbing onto what you could, the back of his head, his shoulders, his butt, as he increased his speed, hitting you in all the right places every single time.

You knew you weren't going to last long, not with him on and in and all around you, not with his fingers playing with your nipple, not with his lips clumsily attaching themselves to various places around your neck and shoulders, and as you felt his hand between your legs, softly circling your clit once again, you were gone. You came in waves of euphoria, unashamed of the volume of your moans and the strength with which you pulled on his hair. Your actions, combined with you clenching around him and a few more thrust, had him follow you moments later.

He carefully slipped out of you, never once letting go of you, and turning you onto your side with him so you were facing each other. Both of you were still breathing heavily, vision cloudy, but intertwined. You were convinced he had ruined you - there was no way anyone was ever going to live up to how he made you feel.

"So, did it live up to your expectation?" You couldn't help but giggle as you posed the question. "Getting laid again after such a long time?"

Ethan pushed a damp strand of hair from your face. You hadn't expected such softness.

"It wasn't actually about getting laid, you know."

"Huh?"

"It was about you."

"Okay, you've lost me now," you said, brows knitting as your hand searched for his, finger entangling the same way your legs were doing. "What are you talking about?"

"I... I've liked you for a while. And I tried so much, but you never even noticed."

Your mind replayed the last few weeks you had spent with the band in their summer house. Instances of Ethan bringing you food, cocktails, adjusting the shade to make sure you were in it, offering to put sunscreen on your back. Moments of him searching for your company, moving much closer than necessary in the heat, arms constantly touching when you were sitting next to each other. Jokes and teasing from the others, drunken remarks. You hadn't paid attention to any of it. You wondered how you could have been so blind to a man so wonderful.

"Wait, so instead of asking me out like a normal person, you suggested we hook up?" You couldn't keep the laughter in now. The situation was simply too ridiculous and you had not yet stopped riding on your high from the endorphins he had caused.

"It was Vic's idea." He buried his head into the sheets, but you could still see his cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. "She knew I missed sex and she said you mentioned something similar so she thought this was the way into your..."

"Pants?"

"Heart, actually."

You snuggled closer, arms wrapping around him so that your noses were touching.

"Well, as embarrassing as it is, it somehow worked, didn't it?" You stroked over his head lovingly. "And I'm sure not letting you go any time soon."

[spidxysense]

Back to You | 14

Summary: He broke your heart, but you’d always love him. Two souls that not even the universe could tear apart, even if you wanted it to at times.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader x Timothee Chalamet

A/N: Yay I updated! I hope you guys like this one, I was stuck for a bit there but once I sat down and got to typing, I really finished it in one sitting. I was just planning on updating it bit by bit lol. Let me know what you guys think, Love you!!!!!!

Word count: 2,591

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

In a few short months of your movie premier with Timothee, you were finally able to release your double-release album, and the response was massive, to say the least. You'd been getting calls from different show hosts' upcoming awarding ceremonies. Still, you couldn't for life in you accept, all except for the Oscars, which your manager told you was a must since you'd be attending in the first place anyway and that performing at the Oscars was a big deal given that you also starred in films and shows.

You turned in bed, facing Timothee's sleeping face. He had been in town for a week now, back on a break from filming in Hungary. Then he'd be back to film in England in a couple of weeks. After your talk on your premiere night, it was to an agreement that whatever you had going on was just two people exploring and experiencing things with someone they had strong feelings for. There wasn't a need for a media circus to cover anything about you two except your movie.

You move his arm, placed it over your waist, and sit up slowly in bed, making sure not to stir Timothee. The jetlag must be shit. You stretched your arms in front of you, glancing at the clock that read 2:07 AM. You get up, grabbing Timothee's white shirt from the floor, and, putting it on, walking over to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, touching some of the reddening parts of your neck courtesy of Timothee, and then you notice the toothbrushes… there were two. From this single thing alone, it had you catching everything about the bathroom, how there were two towels, one black, and one violet, which just so happened to be your favorite color.

You walked over to the nightstand beside the bed, putting on your skinny jeans, turning on the lamp, and noticing his wallet. Inside was a picture of you. Opening the closet doors, the ones hung up were various suits, jackets, and even dresses you've worn to events. Why didn't he just send these back? Why would he let you keep your stuff in his house?

You drag your feet downstairs, noticing small details you'd been blind to before, like the large dog bed positioned by the door despite Timothee telling you he could only ever get himself to take care of a tiny dog. You noticed the colored mugs and bowls, a deep dull navy blue color, the same as the ones in your house. Suddenly, everything feels as if it's moving too fast. You both agreed there was no relationship, and there was attraction, but why does his home feel like it's become yours as well?

You sit down, taking a few deep breaths before deciding to stand up and grab your cardigan from the coathanger, opening the front door and closing it behind you as you waited for a taxi to bring you to the more active part of the city at night.

You just couldn't deal with a relationship right now. You couldn't let your heart get broken again, so you have to find ways to distract yourself.

The car stops in front of you, driving off into the night and dropping you off by a club that Troye agreed to meet you at.

You and Timothee had an attraction, but you both agreed there was no label; ergo, there was no intimate relationship even though you both have done everything together. No boyfriend means you were free to do whatever you wanted without worrying about him. But if you were honest with yourself, this was more of you suggesting something you already knew Timothee wasn't too keen on agreeing with but would just because he thought that having something with you was better than absolutely nothing. You saw Troye waiting out by the back entrance for you when he spotted you and called you over. Almost like clockwork, every time you snuck out away from Timothee, everything in you screamed to turn back, to clear your head, and for the first time, you listened.

You motioned for Troye to go ahead and sent him a text that you'd probably just head home because you weren't feeling well. He gave you a knowing look before looking like he finally approved of your actions and sent you a quick and short 'Good." text, and headed inside.

You walked around for a while after that. Soon it was already just about 5 in the morning, and even though you wouldn't let yourself come to any conclusion as to what you even wanted out of this almost relationship with Timothee, you still found yourself back at his front door.

You took out the keys in your pocket, slowly opening the door only to find Timothee sat on the couch, his knees up to his chest as he stared off into space, either deep in thought or trying to keep himself awake… maybe even both.

When he saw you enter, a soft smile formed on his face, and for some reason, that made you smile too.

"Hey, you." He spoke softly.

You sat down quietly next to him, instantly he set his feet on the ground and reached over to embrace you in a hug, the familiar scent of Timothee that never left you that evening even more evident… It felt and smelled familiar, and right now, while your mind was a mess, familiarity was what you needed.

Timothee lifted his head, worried, "Hey, are you alright?"

You sighed, "I don't want to hurt you."

He murmured quietly into your neck as he peppered kisses, "You could never."

You pulled away, feeling guilt in your bones, "Aren't you even a little bit frustrated that we've been like this for months? That even in private, we can't even say that we're in a relationship?"

You gave you a reassuring look, "We both wanted this Y/N."

You sat up, "Except we didn't… You didn't." You corrected yourself, "You're bringing your mother to the fucking Oscars next month because I told you we couldn't be seen together at carpets for Pete's sake."

You stood up, starting to pace back and forth, "We have to coordinate outfits for the sake of not matching, and we never go out because I can't be seen with you in fear that we're going to get found out. I'm a terrible fucking person, and I don't understand how you're so okay with this."

Timothee was grinning, sleep still in his eyes, "I'm okay with it because I love you, Y/N."

You froze in your spot, "You what?"

He nodded and got up, walking over to you. The blue light of the early morning peaking through the curtain made this moment feel and look ethereal, "I said I love you, Y/N. I've known that I loved you from the moment I met you." He kissed the top of your head as he embraced you.

You shook your head, "No, no, no, you don't. I'll even list more shit I've done to you just so you understand how and why you don't love me."

Timothee chuckled, "And yet despite all this... all that's registering in my head is the fact that you've been thinking of me and only me this whole time. You've been worried about how you're hurting me because you don't want to."

And that's when you realized that Timothee was right. This whole time you've been thinking of Timothee and how much you wanted to protect him from you, but he never wanted to be protected from you because he knew that you could never hurt him. You rested your forehead against his.

"I-I need to go. I need to think."

He smiled sadly, "I'll be here when you're ready. I'll always be here Y/N until you don't want me to be here anymore."

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

You sat in your house, since leaving Timothee's earlier, you had been sat there lost in thought as you argued with yourself. It was true, the last thing you wanted was to hurt Timothee, but you were confused because it's like you couldn't understand your feelings. After all, a particular person still held a large part of it in his hands.

Timothee was there for you. Late night at the recording studio, whether through being there physically or even calling you or skyping you, he was always there. He was there with you when you bought all your albums from Target, and he was also the one who insisted you find another target that hasn't sold out your CDs so he could buy all of them too. Timothee was there with you when you had interviews that you almost felt like you could puke from nervousness backstage as he watched you talk about another celebrity you were getting linked to, and he was there with you to giggle about how stupid talk shows were. Timothee was always there. Whether it was dancing, kissing, or even fighting in the rain, he was always with you. He always wanted you around. Even when you rode the subway to get to a press conference of his or a promo for his upcoming movie, he always wanted you with him. He'd run with you in the rain, and he'd kiss away the sadness when you didn't want to speak with him. He was there with you when you get the sudden urge to buy all the popsicles from the nearest whole foods, and he was there with you when you got sick with the flu, which he also got from you. You'd spend afternoons walking around a far-off hill as you two put flowers in your hair despite knowing that you two probably had your busy schedules. Nothing mattered when you were with Timothee. Nothing mattered except each other. A part of you felt hurt that these memories you had kept of you and Tom were slowly being replaced by everything Timothee, but a large part of you also knew that the person you have now had no doubt that you couldn't ignore your feelings. You couldn't have to take Timothee out of your life.

Making up your mind, you got up, got dressed, and left for where you were sure you would find Tom.

He was in the middle of filming a new movie, but the second he saw you, he immediately asked to stop filming, a familiar, loving face plastered on as he walked over to you before being stopped by the director. They looked to be having a bit of a disagreement before he pointed you out, and the director looked at you in realization, patting him on the back and allowing him to jog over to you.

"Hey." You paused, your hand grasping your arm, and Tom took notice right away.

His eyebrows furrowed, "Hey, what's wrong?" He pulls you to sit by the curb as you two sat side by side, "You only do that when you're having a hard time saying something."

You gave him a look, "Well… I came here to ask you if it was alright if I try things out with Timothee."

He looked taken aback, "Oh, well, honestly, I thought you came by to sort things out between us…." He took notice of the way you looked down in guilt, "I don't think you could do anything with another guy that wouldn't upset me… but I don't really get that prerogative anymore, Y/N." He sighed, wrapping an arm around you to comfort you, "The fact is, you're trying to grow into who you've always wanted to be, and I'm trying to do that too for the sake of us and what we could be. If that means that you need or want to date someone again, I'll fully support you, but the most important thing is, does he make you happy?"

You sighed, looking out onto the filming lot, and nodded slowly, not noticing the slight upset look on Tom's face, "I catch myself sometimes smiling to myself when I think of him… But it's like I can't do anything because I don't want to let go of what we had."

Tom took a gulp, deciding that what was important right now was you, more than what he wanted, "What we had and what we were isn't important anymore Y/N. I'm working towards what we could become. What we had was co-dependency and a constant need to be in each other's presence to prove that what we had was perfect. I want us to find each other again in the future and know that no matter how far apart we are, if hopefully, we get together again, there is nobody in this world we'll love more… and that's what I'm encouraging you to do. I want to grow with you and grow for each other, and if that means you dating other people to understand yourself more, then I support you."

You looked at Tom for a second before hugging him and pecking him on the cheek, "I really needed that, Tom. Thank you."

He hugged you tighter, "Anytime. I'll always be here for you, Y/N."

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

You gripped your seat in the car in pure nerves. You were on your way to the Oscars with your assistant constantly telling you about your performance and what not to mess up and things to remember, especially about reporters who wanted an interview with you. To say you were all nerves today was an understatement. You hadn't spoken to Timothee ever since you told him you needed time to think, so today would be the first time you would ever come face to face with him. You thought long and hard about everything between the two of you. Still, you think you're finally ready to actually put some time and effort into this… and if that meant doing things that would significantly make Timothee happy, then you'd do it.

Your assistant watched a live feed from the Oscars as she gave you updates on how Armie was on the carpet. Saoirse was on the carpet, talking about how she hoped to make a movie with you and various other stars. You were a few minutes away from the carpet when she spoke up again.

"Timothee has just arrived." then she looked at her phone and back at you, doing a double-take as you gave her a sheepish smile, all she could do was smile approvingly at you before going back to giving you live updates.

A few minutes later, and your heart didn't feel like it was going to slow down anytime soon as your assistant gave you a pep talk, "Y/N. You are gonna rock that carpet, you'll turn heads, and most importantly, you're gonna be the talk of the night. There is nothing that could go wrong tonight. Just take deep breaths and don't trip."

Luckily you were still coherent enough to understand what she said as you took deep breaths to calm your nerves.

"Alright, three… two… one." The door flew open as one of the large men in suits grabbed your hand and helped you out. Your dress was not providing you much flexibility to move, and for almost 15 seconds, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion as everyone was quiet. You found Timothee busy with an interview as the crowd looked from you to him, the topic on everyone's minds for the past few months. As if this were the only proof they needed, they held their cameras in their hands as they snapped pictures of you and a commotion started as they started asking for Timothee.

You think you gave them a quick, charming grin as you told them he was in an interview before walking towards the interviewer and Timothee. She was the first to notice while Timothee talked about how his mom stood him up as his Oscars date, something you arranged a week earlier and something Timothee's mom was more than happy to comply to.

The interviewer looks ecstatic as the only one and the first one on this carpet to get whatever the scoop was here, as she wasted no time when you slowly approached them, "Timothee! You said you were stood up, but you never told us that your backup would be late!"

Timothee shot her a confused look before he felt your arm slowly snake around his arm, "Sorry I'm late." You quickly whispered to him.

His face looked shocked. Almost as if a reflex, he almost pulled away from you before getting a good look at what you were wearing. His jaw looked like it would drop to the floor as he looked utterly awestruck.

The interviewer giggled nervously, already knowing her interview time was slowly coming to an end without any payoff to the two of you, "Timothee, you look to be speechless at Y/N's dress tonight." She looked at you hopefully, "Could everyone here assume this is date night?"

You smiled shyly at the lady before giving her a tiny curt nod, "I know it's a bit cliche to match outfits, but when I saw that Timothee was going to wear a harness, I just couldn't let him take all the attention for tonight, so I apologize, but I've kept this secret from him too just to make sure he doesn't do anything to take the spotlight, that's why he looks like he's just had a heart attack." you giggled.

He gave a quick, playful tilted look to you before blinking multiple times, "In my defense, I didn't even know that this was a harness... They told me this was a bib."

"Bib or not, you two look like the sexiest couple on the carpet, and I just so happen to be the luckiest interviewer tonight." The interviewer looked ecstatic as can be as she jumps up, more energetic to interview the two of you, "And well, Y/N, one look at you, and it's hard to believe anyone would still have the ability to speak. You look gorgeous." She winked at the camera, "But I can't help but notice you just confirmed this is date night… Is it safe to assume what everyone has been wondering for the past few months? That you two are dating?"

Somehow, Timothee finally snaps out of it and looks at you, a questioning look before you leaned over and spoke into the mic, "Yeah. We're together. We have been for a while now." You smiled sheepishly as you saw Timothee's face glow as he wrapped his arm around your waist, "I apologize for keeping quiet for so long, but we think it's the right time to go public now that we've decided to take things to a more serious level."

The interviewer waves a hand in the air, "As long as you two let us in on the secret, there's no problem there." She faced the camera, "You heard it here first, folks. Hollywood's newest and hottest up and coming power couple. From both Y/N and Timothee themselves, now going public with their relationship."

As you two walked away from the interviewer for more pictures, Timothee embraced you, uncaring of the cameras flashing in your faces, "Are you serious?"

You nodded slowly, "I'm ready to be with you completely, Timothee. I'm sorry I took so long."

He shook his head like a puppy, "As long as you're here with me now, Y/N, I don't care."

He pulled away at the sound of your name and his in the same sentence as the photographers asked for your attention. He quickly kisses you on the cheek as you shut your eyes and grinned, cameras going off and commotion started up at you two, the young hot couple everyone had wanted more details on.

Timothee clutched your waist tightly, almost like he was afraid that if he let go, this would all go back to how everything was before.

Before entering the venue, he pulled you to the side, "Are you sure about this? I don't want you to force yourself."

You shook your head, guiding his head to yours, "I think I'm in love with you too, Timothee. I'm all in with you." And then you kissed him.

[springgirlwaiting4fall]

Falling in Love 1 Story at a Time An MJF and OC Novella Chapter 2

Max

MJF was feeling great, their first promo went amazing. The crowd hated seeing him and Briella together. And when he checked his twitter feed in the locker room after the segment he was being bashed on there as well. Max loved being the bad guy. When he was a kid he was a shy pushover always being teased for his learning disabilities, his size, or being Jewish. As a wrestler he was able to put that behind him and be the confident man he was always meant to be. Changing out of his suit and back into his street clothes Max Caster came up behind him and slapped his shoulder. “Good promo.”

“Thanks.” Caster was one of the 1st friend he made when he started wrestling as both grew up in Long Island and attended the same wrestling academy.

“It must be nice working with Brie.” Max Caster raised his eyebrows and winked.

MJF looked around the locker room and made sure no one seen the look Max gave him, especially the guys that Brie typically rode with like Eddie, Santana, and Ortiz. The last thing he needed was word getting around that he had a very small crush on Brie like they were in high school or something.

“What?” The rapper teased. “Just thinking of that long private drive home you two get to share.”

MJF knew Max was just being a little salty because the two of them usually drove together, but when he found out from Dustin that wanted him and Brie to drive together he told his friend he was on his own. At least for the first couple of weeks.

Brie was waiting for him by the exit after she interfered with Nikki’s match against Ana Jay during the recording of Rampage. She had changed out of the dress she worn earlier and was in leggings and a T-shirt. Her make up was washed off and the curls that were down earlier we’re tossed up in some type of ponytail. It reminded him of the first time he saw her back when he was just starting to get a name for himself and she was having one of her first matches at some fair in Ohio. She was so excited and passionate and still was.

She was saying goodbye to her friends, the people who she used to drive with. They were going to take photos and sign autographs for the fans waiting outside; before going on their way. He wondered if she was sad that she wasn’t able to do that anymore. He would bet that she was feeling bad about not being connected to fans, maybe in the car he could explain how he always had so much fun messing with fans at signings.

“You ready?” He asked, Brie nodded. Without another word he put her backpack on his back. Max opened the door for her, he placed his hand on her lower back. He felt Brie freeze for a moment at the contact, but she continued walking. MJF led her to his car and opened the passenger door for her.

“I could have drove.” Brie put her seatbelt on than fiddled with the hem of her shirt. Was she nervous about being in the car with him?

“You can get next time.” He put his car into reverse and backed out of the space. The car filled with awkward tension. “Are you cold?”

“I’m good.” Brie looked at the fans as they drove by.

“You know what the best part about signings are?” Max looked over at Brie, she didn’t say anything, but did shake her head no and looked curious about what he was about to say. “The little kids who come up and than ask their moms if its okay to flip me off. And when their moms say its yes for one picture. They get so excited.”

Max really liked hearing her laugh. “I definitely prefer being flipped off than having a preteen boy ask for a hug and than try to grab some side boob.” For the next two and half hours they talked about their good, bad and awkward fan encounters.

“This is me on the left.” Brie pointed to a town house. Two guys were in the front yard and looked like they were arguing about the proper way to use a hose. “And those two idiots are my roommates slash brothers.” Brie unclipped her seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride. I will get us next time.”

MJF got out the car and took her bag out of the trunk, than handed to her. She looked shocked by the gesture but said thanks. He got back in the car and watched her greet her brothers and get inside before driving off.

[lambourngb]

a skeleton of something more [2/6]

previously here. malex wip fic. a short serial leading up the premiere.

spoilers for the trailer and promo, will be instantly AU. If I’m going to the trouble of writing a malex fix-it for the season 3 opener, why not fix 2x13 too?

**** THEN **** 

After Alex closed Tripp’s journal, he met Michael’s gaze across the table at the Crashdown. 

His golden-brown eyes were heavy with pain, the reminder of how his mother’s story had ended was still fresh between them despite the span of months since the fiery end of Caulfield. What had resulted in being the fiery end of them, even though Alex hadn’t known it at the time. The look of sleeplessness in Michael’s face reminded Alex, that outside of this small piece of Nora, he had the weight of Maria still in the hospital recovering from the pathogen Flint had released. The press of the Deep Sky ring in his pocket warred with the hesitation to place one more burden on Michael, would the abacus of their fragile friendship balance out?

He flashed to that last argument in Michael’s bunker, a disaster of his own making, thinking he could believe in his father, but thankfully harm was averted at Crashcon. That recent memory was motive enough for Alex to decide. Whatever happened next, he needed Michael on the same page with him.

As Isobel moved to leave the table, explaining to Michael that she needed to check on Max, Alex held Michael’s gaze deliberately. Then he folded his fingers down, until the last three fanned out in a downward W. 

“After what happened with Maria, maybe you should come with me, Michael. You can help me shake some sense into Max,” Alex heard, tuning back into Isobel’s voice. Her eyes moved back and forth between them, a crease of suspicion wrinkling her upturned nose, as she stopped on him. “It’ll be a good distraction.”

Without looking at Isobel, Michael’s eyes remained trained on Alex’s hand. “No, thanks, I’m good here. I’ve had my fill of stubborn ass people who don’t want to listen to sensible advice from me, so I’ll catch up with you later, Isobel.” 

She made a dismissive huff but did not argue, leaving with the barest semblance of a polite goodbye to Alex, but that was typical Isobel Evans. Michael waited until his sister was on the other side of the door, before speaking quietly, his gaze finally moving up from Alex’s hands to his face. “I haven’t seen you flash that sign to me in years.” 

“Glad to know you haven’t forgotten it.”

“You, making the ‘wait for me, I want you now’ signal? Nah, that’s been burned into my brain over the years.” Michael said it with a faint trace of bitterness. “I guess news travels fast, Maria only dumped my ass this morning.”

Alex winced and looked down, swallowing the surprise and spark of hope that welled in his throat at that disclosure. It was better to concentrate on the unique talent he had of stepping on landmines around Michael, than wonder about what had happened with Maria. It looked like he was still good at causing harm without intention, judging by the stung bite in Michael’s voice. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Michael cut off his apology firmly with a wave of his hand, calling a time-out. Alex waited, his teeth pressed into his lower lip as Michael rubbed his eyes with a weary half-smile. “I’m being an asshole right now, and that’s not fair to take it out on you. It’s been a shitty day already, and — anyway, … you definitely know how to get my attention, Alex.” He tilted his head, self-deprecation on his face, “for better or worse, you’ve always been good at that.” 

It had been the sign they had developed whenever their paths had crossed over the years while Alex had been on leave in Roswell, but it had started that summer after high school. After Michael’s hand had healed poorly from Jesse, the last three fingers had been left frozen in a claw, it had been a shared fuck-you to his dad to use it to form their own secret communication. A three-fingered W, turned upward meant it wasn’t a good time, and he would find Michael later; turned downward, well, that meant it was safe to approach him, and it had often ended in a hurried blowjob in his car. Perhaps he should have used more care in using it now, but Michael wasn’t the only one running on the fumes of insomnia and stress. “Sorry, I needed to talk to you, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t leave with Isobel-”

“It’s fine, really. It’s not a bad memory either, remembering that we had our little secret language.” Michael wiggled his fingers in reassurance, his left hand still wrapped with a bandanna. “I can make that signal a hell of a lot easier now, too. But anyway, what did you need?”

There was still a voice inside Alex’s head that said ‘you’, no matter how long it had been. He shoved that down deep, along with his curiosity about Maria, and concentrated on his purpose. “Your advice on something, and then if it’s not too much to ask, your help.”

“Anything.” 

Alex blinked, nonplussed by the easy acceptance. 

Michael gestured encouragingly, “seriously, anything, just tell me what’s going on because the way you’re hemming and hawing, it is freaking me out.” Suddenly, all expression washed out of Michael’s face as a horrible thought occurred to him. “Did you get deployed or something?”

“Not exactly, not how you’re thinking,” he winced at the earned glare from Michael as he continued to stall while the words still tripped and fumbled around his mouth, heedless to the mounting frustration between them both. He sighed, and regrouped. Pushing the closed journal aside, Alex dug into his pocket and laid the signet ring on the table before Michael. “Let me start at the beginning, I found this in my dad’s things.” 

“Jesse never seemed like a jewelry kind of guy to me.” Michael picked up the ring, examining it closely with a sarcastic smirk. “Other than parading around town with that wedding ring, when everyone knows your mom left him back during the Bush years, Dubya that is.”

“My father is all, was all, about appearances.” Alex placed the photo of the group on the table, sliding it over to him. “That ring marked his membership in this paramilitary group called Deep Sky. Every man in that photo worked at Caulfield, at one time or another.” He tapped his finger over the face of his father, then moved it to the right. “That’s my dad, and that is Ricky Long.”

Michael frowned, pulling the picture closer to squint at the faces. “Wyatt’s dad?”

“No, Forrest’s.”

“Nazi guy? Seriously?” He rubbed at his chin, the stubble longer than usual painting his jawline. Alex dragged his eyes away with effort as Michael considered that information. There was a reluctant understanding in his eyes, having recalled that Forrest Long wasn’t just ‘Nazi Guy’ to Alex, but someone who had expressed interest in Alex. Personal interest. “I guess that’s something you guys have in common then, dirtbag dads.” 

He didn’t look thrilled to admit that to Alex, but it was a mark of how far they had both come as friends that Michael had said it anyway regardless. It was kind of him. It was the same type of empathy Alex had extended toward Michael, when he had expressed interest in Maria. Cut open, bleeding under his skin from all the ways he had squandered his own chances, he had said something similar to Michael once upon a time. That was what love was all about. Then he had kept saying it, until he believed it most days because wanting Michael to be happy was the easier ask.

It was a gracious sentiment that was entirely wasted by Michael when it came to Forrest Long. 

“It would be, uh, something to bond over, if I hadn’t noticed that Forrest wears the same ring now.” 

Michael’s eyes sharpened. “Family heirloom or do you think he worked at Caulfield?”

“I don’t know, but he is an ex-Army vet.” Alex tapped the photo of the members gathered together, “That was part of what I’ve been looking into, identifying everyone who worked at Caulfield right until the end. As for Deep Sky, I don’t know if it’s military service, Caulfield, or a family legacy that ties every member together, I just know that Dad kept in touch with those who were involved at the prison.” 

“Makes sense, Jesse was able to get a hold of the atomizer and pathogen that Charlie developed from somewhere. For all of his strutting around at Crashcon with a uniform on, that didn’t look like it was an official use of government property.” 

“Right, it definitely wasn’t, and before you tell me to leave it alone-” Alex began, remembering Michael’s response to the investigation into 1947. He had considered Alex’s actions back then to be an act of futility, something that could only hurt by being revisited. The past being the past, unable to be altered. 

This time Michael cut him off, “No, I was wrong about that. I, um, I finally realized that just because I don’t see you connected to that place or the rest of your family, doesn’t mean you don’t. And while I wish that you didn’t, Alex, if digging into this gives you some sort of peace over it, then do it.”

Alex looked down, feeling the weight of relief that Michael understood. After his father’s body had been removed, after the questions and lies had been spun, he had spent the entire night sleepless over having been made into an effective weapon to force Michael’s compliance. Helena had known where all the weak spots were thanks to Flint, and had armed herself with a depowering agent. Once Flint was recovered, there was nothing stopping him from employing a similar tactic in the future.

“If anyone’s going to destroy me, it might as well be you.” Michael had once declared with a bold carelessness that had infuriated and terrified Alex at the time, but that was nothing compared to now having a lived experience to back it up. His mind had easily used the memory of Maria’s collapse after the faintest exposure at the Crashcon and had exchanged her with Michael, being torn apart molecule by molecule, by an invisible threat.

Give him an enemy that he could see any day, especially one that bled. 

“I’ve been fighting so long, I don’t know what peace looks like anymore.” Alex held out his hand for the ring, and Michael gently laid it in his palm, brushing his fingertips over Alex’s skin. A lifetime of controlling himself kept the reaction off his face as he rubbed his thumb over the raised emblem of Deep Sky. “But I have learned recently that when something seems too good to be true, it is.” 

Neither of them mentioned Jesse and his performance from the last few months, but Michael frowned again, “Wait a second, you think Forrest targeted you on purpose?” 

“A member of a secret paramilitary organization just happens to ask me out after I was involved in the destruction of Caulfield? You really think that’s a coincidence?” Alex raised his eyebrow skeptically at Michael, before looking out the window to watch the pedestrians on the street. 

“I think you’re the hottest guy in Roswell, so I’m not surprised he asked you out.” Michael flushed a little when Alex turned back to stare at him in surprise over the flattering comment. “Seriously, you’re a catch, but I will agree, it’s not a good look that he’s got that ring. But maybe it’s crap he wears because of his dad, and he’s got no idea he’s parading around?”

“You’re being awfully generous.”

“Isn’t that what you want? Because last time I checked, you were the one telling me that I should have faith in people, even if they give me no reason to.” Michael flattened his hands on the table, drawing Alex’s attention to the bandanna on his hand again. That damn fight kept echoing between them to Alex’s dismay, but Michael didn’t let him linger over it, “While I stand by what I said about Jesse, ‘cause he messes us both up, all I know about Forrest Long is that he is way too interested in Nazi history and he has good taste in guys.” Michael wetted his lips, nervously to tack on, “I also know that I trust you, and your instincts, so if you say there’s something not right about him, then I believe you.” 

“There’s something not right about him,” Alex repeated seriously.

“Then I believe you, so what do you need me to do?”

“He wants to get close to me for some reason, probably related to what I know about aliens, so I’m going to let him. And I need you to back me up in case something goes wrong, and maybe use that lock pick you have in your brain?” Alex waited until Michael nodded in agreement, feeling the swell of gratitude at his support. Anyone else would probably think he was being paranoid, or that this was a delayed reaction to his father trying to kill them, but Michael, for all of his previous counter-arguments, had never truly believed in the good of humanity. Maybe in a few days, Alex would feel guilty in relying on that. Maybe in a few days, his suspicions about Forrest would be eliminated.

“He’s involved in running the open mike night at the Wild Pony with Maria, so I thought maybe I could perform a song or something? He drives a Prius, and while he’s listening to me sing, you could slip out mid-song and insert this into the code reader of his car.” 

On the table was a small device that mimicked a thumb drive, small and black. It was the type of technology that Alex had used in the Air Force, tracking terrorists abroad. It had taken a fair amount of searching to purchase the equivalent stateside to have on hand. Michael picked it up curiously, turning over his hands.

“It’s designed to download the GPS history of his car,” Alex explained, before rubbing the back of his head in thought. “That’s how I uncovered what my dad was up to, first by tracking his movements. If I let Forrest take me home, I can gain access to his laptop and phone.”

Michael furrowed his brow in concern, “You’re really willing to go that far? And what if he is involved in something shady, what then?”

“My father and brother both used me to get to you, there’s really nothing I wouldn’t do to keep that from happening again and if it means playing along with this guy, letting him lead me to the members of Deep Sky? Then I will.” If anything, his words only deepened the concern on Michael’s face, but Alex had been committed for a long time. Since the red level threat. Since the short ride to the recruitment office. Maybe as far back as his guitar going missing in the music room.

“I’ve slept with guys for worse reasons.”

CONTINUED HERE

[wizkiddx]

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker​ --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA. 

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.  

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave. 

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?” 

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable. 

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed. 

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend. 

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially. 

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid;  when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be. 

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that. 

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks. 

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras. 

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man. 

“You good?” His answer was predictable. 

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands. 

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other. 

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end. 

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything. 

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away. 

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph. 

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt. 

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his. 

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing. 

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else. 

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep. 

[undyingskies]

Beach Daze

request: no

a/n: So again I self indulged and created this piece of writing! Honestly I really like this one and hope you guys enjoy!

warnings: none, I think there are a few curse words. this is a long piece and I honestly don't remember 

___________________________________________

Finally, you had a day off. You were juggling picking up extra shifts at the coffee shop you were working at and nannying for the family you were working for.

It had been a nonstop 2 weeks of going from watching Josie then immediately going to a shift at the coffee shop.

But finally, today was the day. You had the time to relax and breath. You had the next two days off at the coffee shop and Josie and her family were out of town for the next week.

The weather in LA was warm and sunny, the heat beckoning you to go out and enjoy it.

The day prior your best friend invited you, well more told you, that the two of you were going to have a girls day at the beach. Which didn’t sound bad then and now with this weather it really didn’t sound bad at all.

You had your beach bag packed up, with sunscreen, tanning oil, a speaker and a towel. You also had a cooler full of snacks and drinks for the two of you.

You were excited to finally get some sun, your skin could use a sun kissed glow. It was going to be a good day.

Your phone ding goes off letting you know that you got a text. It was from your best friend letting you know that she was there to pick you up.

You throw your t-shirt over your bikini top and slip your sandals on before you make your way out to her car.

You throw your bag and cooler in her backseat before you hop in the front.

“Ready to go? I figured we could go to Malibu?” Morgan asked as you buckled yourself in.

“Yes and yes!” You tell her. “You got music for the way there and I got music for the beach?”

She nods in agreement. While both your music tastes were similar the two of you always seemed to argue over whose playlist you would play. This way the both of you got to play music.

The two of you jam out all the way to the beach, already feeling the relaxation of your day off.

Little did you know that a simple beach trip could potentially change your life.

Similar to your day off, Charlie finally had a free day. His days were full of interviews and promo for Julie and The Phantoms but today he was finally free for the whole day.

His friend Hannah invited him to the beach with her and her boyfriend. He thought why not, a day at the beach, enjoying the water and friends would not hurt him.

Hannah had told him to meet them at Malibu beach, he quickly packed his own bag to take to the beach with him before he left for the day.

You were there before him and just a few feet away from where him and his friends would reside on the same beach.

When  you and Morgan get to the beach; you quickly make your way down the sand to find the perfect spot.

Once you were convinced you had found the perfect spot, you and Morgan laid out your towels. You brought extra as you like to create a big space to be able to lay out on.

You pulled out a few drinks, handing one to Morgan and taking one for yourself. The two of you strip down to your bathing suits, and take turns helping each other spray sunscreen on your backs.

The sun on your skin already feels like heaven. You have your phone plugged into the speaker, enjoying your newest playlist. Morgan and you joke around for a little bit before she decides to take a nap and you decide to read your book.

What you didn’t know was that Charlie and his friends were just a few feet away from the two of you.

Your presence was unknown to them for a while until they caught wind of some of the jokes and conversation you were having with Morgan. Charlie laughed along with a few of your jokes.

“You should take a picture it’ll last longer.” Hannah pokes fun at Charlie.

The minute Charlie caught sight of you it seemed that you got all of his attention. Your humor caught him and your laugh made him stay. The beauty you held didn’t hurt either.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Charlie says blushing, embarrassed that she had caught him.

“Dude!” Hannah says laughing, “You haven’t taken your eyes or attention away from that girl since you noticed her.”

“Whatever Hannah!” Charlie says, “She’s been telling good jokes and I like her music.”  He says trying to avoid the conversation any longer.

Little did you know that two feet away from you was one of the most good-looking guys you would ever lay your eyes on and you had caught his attention.

You let some time pass as you read your book and let Morgan nap. You slowly felt the boredom start to creep through your thoughts letting it take your attention away from the words on your page.

You move to poke Morgan in the back hoping to wake her up. You poke her about 3 times before she starts to stir in her sleep.

“What do you want Y/N?” She asks sounding slightly annoyed.

“I’m bored, entertain me or let’s do something fun.” You tell her, still poking her.

“Stop!” She says laughing while moving to push your hands away. “We could play volleyball; I brought my ball.”

“Ya that sounds fun.” You tell her, moving to lean on your elbows. You feel the towel stick to your back due to the sweat that had pooled there. “I may go jump in the water before though, I need to cool off.”

She just nods her head at you before rolling onto her back. You loved the water, her not so much.

You stood up, brushing the sand off your thighs before you make your way down to the water.

A shiver rushes through you as the water hits your feet. You don’t let it stop you. Next thing you’re doing is jogging right into the water, diving headfirst into the incoming wave. A big smile across your face as you come up, brushing the hair out of your face.

You spend the next few minutes swimming around in the water, enjoying the waves and coolness of the water.

You were in your own little heaven completely oblivious to the world around you.

Completely oblivious to the brown-haired boy whose eyes were practically out of his head as he watched you swim and laugh around in the water. You looked beautiful, he could see the smile on your face and the sun shining off your body.

He didn’t think you could get any more beautiful, but then you made your way out of the water. It was like one of those scenes from the movie. It was like you were walking in slow motion, as you step back onto the sand, brushing back your hair from your face, the water dripping off you. It was a sight to see and you were absolutely breath taking.

Charlie was in a complete daze.

Hannah laughed again at the sight of her best friend, completely star struck by you.

“You should go talk to her.” She says pulling his gaze from you for the second time today.

“You know I can’t do that.” He says, shaking his head slightly and clearing his throat.

While Hannah tried to hype up her friend. You made your way to Morgan, using an extra towel to dry off slightly. The sun already doing most of the work.

“Hey, will you turn that up?” You ask her as you lean to grab the volleyball. Ready to toss it back and forth.

“Sure!” She says while doing so and then getting up to play with you.

A familiar tune to both you and Charlie starts to make its way throughout the atmosphere.

“Take off, last stop,

Countdown till we blast open the top,

Face first, full charge,

Electric hammer to the heart.”

You dance a little to the song, pulling some interesting moves getting a laugh from your friend.

You start to hit the ball back and forth, having to run around a little due to your lack of skill. You were still having fun though.

“What song is this?” Morgan asks, she knew your playlists pretty well and she never heard this song before.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure!” You tell her laughing, “Josie was playing it the other day on the ride home from school and she added it to my playlist. I liked it though so I kept it!”

She just nods her head and hits the ball back to you. Which you ignore due to the squeal that leaves your mouth.

“Hold on, this is the best part.” You tell her as you run to turn up the music louder, this time the sound can be heard by Charlie and his crew.

“And even if we hit the ground,

We’ll still fly,

Keep dreaming like we’ll live forever,

But live it like it’s now or never.”

You sing along, loudly and not quite on key, and pull some more interesting dance moves. Laughter leaving both you and Morgan.

Charlie and his friends eyes never leave the sight of you once they notice.

“That’s a familiar tune, now isn’t it?” Hannah says, the first one to notice the song that is playing through your speaker.

“Huh?” Charlie grunts out, not paying much attention. He was finally laying down and relaxing in the sun.

“Listennnnn!” Hannah says, a smile on her face.

The faint music of a very familiar song reaches Charlie’s ears. He hears the ever familiar lyrics,   “Those were the best shades of my life, don’t look down.”

Then he hears the music get louder, becoming much clearer. Then along with the familiar lyrics, he hears a voice singing along to it.

That’s when he’s pushing himself to sit up and witness you dancing along to his voice.

A big smile makes its way onto his face.

“I think that’s your sign to go talk to her buddy,” Hannah says giving him a shove.

“I don’t know, is it weird to go up to someone and be like hey you’re listening to my song oh and also you’re really pretty.” Hannah and her boyfriend laugh at his words.

“Come on, I’ll go with you! Maybe we can sneak our way into their volleyball game.” She says, grabbing onto Charlie’s hand and pulling him up.

Charlie stops moving, now nervous to go up to you. Hannah rolls her eyes at him.

“Fine, I’ll go do it myself! You’ll thank me later!” She says as she begins to jog over to you and Morgan.

The two of you are enjoying your game and joking around. Your jokes helping distract you from your terrible volleyball skills.

Your back was to Charlie and his friends so Morgan was the first to notice Hannah making her way up to you guys.

Morgan stops throwing the ball, confusing you.

“What dude? You’re scared of my skills now aren’t you?” You laugh at her, which gets a laugh from her and the person behind you. Which then in turn gets your attention. You quickly turn on your heels to make eye contact with the girl in front of you.

“Hi!” Is all she says.

“Hi back!” You say with a laugh and smile.

“I’m sorry if this is super weird or random but my friends and I saw you guys playing volleyball and we are wondering if we could join you?” She asks.

You look at Morgan both of you shrugging your shoulders, more people to play with couldn’t hurt.

“Sure!” You say.

“Awesome, I’ll go get them!” She says right as she turns on her own heels and makes her way back to the two boys, beckoning them to come over.

“Gillespie, you better get your ass over there or else.” She says with a stern look. She has him by the hand and dragging him over.

He can hear your laughter as he comes closer, it sounds even better close up.

Morgan nods her head at you, letting you know that they were coming back. When you turn you weren’t ready to see the boy standing in front of you.

You feel your breath get caught in your throat at the sight of him, your eyes locking in with his blue ones.

“Hi.” You say almost breathless, a smile displays itself on his face at your voice.

“Hi.” He says back. Both of your friends immediately noticing the connection between the two of you.

“So, I’m Hannah, this is my boyfriend Sam, and that fool is Charlie!” Hannah says breaking the silence and yours and Charlie’s eye contact.

“I’m Y/N, and she is Morgan.” You say pointing to Morgan and then reaching your hand out to shake everyone’s hand.

Once your hand reaches for Charlie’s, sparks fly up through your arms. Which you both try to ignore but can’t.

“So how about that game?” You ask a big smile on your face which takes Charlie’s breath away.

Everyone nods and then the game initiates. All five of you enjoying each other’s company and getting to know each other.

After a few rounds of the game, everyone was feeling a little tired. The beating sun taking a lot of energy from everyone.

That’s why you offer them a snack and some drinks. You didn’t want the hanging out to end, more specifically you didn’t want Charlie to leave.

The energy between the two of you a lot more awkward than the energy between everyone else. But it seemed like neither of you could get enough of each other, constantly stealing glances at one another.

“I have to be honest real quick,” Hannah says, pausing after taking a bite of her sandwich. “That song you were playing, Charlie sings that so I had to come over here.”

You choke on your food. “No shit, really?” You ask, causing everyone to laugh at your face and your struggle to get it out.

“Ya, really.” He says. You move to slightly hit him, loving the feeling of his skin on yours.

“Why didn’t you guys say anything at first? That’s so embarrassing!” You laugh.

“Well Charlie here thought it would be embarrassing to come talk to the pretty girl listening to his song and telling her.” You blush at her words and Charlie sends her a death stare.

“I just thought it would be weird, I don’t know,” Charlie says trying to ignore the heat that makes its way onto his face, “Besides it’s not just my song!”

“Ooo intrigue, tell us more!” Morgan interjects. You nodding your head yes in agreement.

“Ah okay.” Charlie says, “Technically it’s a band that I play in. I got a job on this netflix show called Julie and The Phantoms, in the show I play in a band called Sunset Curve and the song you were listening to is the bands!” He says explaining it all.

“Ohhh, I know that show! Josie talks about it all the time!” You say. “She says her favorite character is I think Reggie?”

“Ya that’s another character in the band!” Charlie says.

“Okay cool! Ya she says and I quote, that while Reggie may only have two functioning brain cells she would let him ruin her life any day!” You say laughing, Charlie laughing along.

The two of your friends watching the two of you engage with one another, they could practically see the sparks flying.

“She would be jealous of me so much right now if she knew that I was with you!”

“Well how about we take a picture and send it to her?” He asks you. You immediately go to search for your phone, finding it under your shirt.

You open up your camera and lift it to get your faces in the frame. The both of you noticing the space in between you, which looked awkward in the photo.

Charlie hesitantly moves closer to you, your thighs touching, and moves his arm to go around your waist. You suck in a breath at the feeling of his hand on your hip.

“This okay?” He asks looking at you. He was so close, your faces practically touching. You could smell the mix of the beach and after shave coming off of him.

You nod your head yes, then move back to face the camera. “Say cheese!” Then click, you’ve got the photo.

You quickly send it to Josie with a message, excited to see her reply. You open up your photos to get a better look at the photo after you sent it.

Both yours and Charlie’s hair wet, sticking to your faces. Charlie is sporting a big smile, his eyes closed. You’re sporting a smile just as big, with your head tilted into his.

“Wow, you look beautiful.” Charlie says breathlessly looking at your phone. You had forgotten he was there. You’re now even more aware of how close the two of you were, neither of you moved from your position after the photo.

“Oh, thanks!” You say looking down and blushing. This was the first time all day that Charlie had heard you talk so quiet and less confident.

A shiver runs down your spine, you hadn’t noticed the temperature change or the sun starting to set. Neither of you seemed to notice that your friends had disappeared, opting to go on a walk for a little to leave you two alone.

Charlie notices you shivering. “Hey you cold?” He asks.

You nod your head, “Ya a little. I should have a jacket in that bag.” You say pointing to the one next to him.

He moves his arm from around your waist, skin brushing against yours again causing another shiver. He opens the bag but doesn’t see a jacket.

“There’s not jacket in there.” He informs you.

“Oh shit.” You say, “I always forget something!” You shrug, this wasn’t the first time it happened and knowing you it won’t be the last.

“Well here!” Charlie says while grabbing his own black jacket to hand to you.

“No Charlie, I couldn’t! What if you get cold?” You say pushing the jacket closer to him.

“I’m fine Y/N, I’m Canadian this California weather has nothing on me!” He says shoving the jacket back to you.

“You sure!” You ask hesitantly grabbing onto the jacket. Once you get a nod of approval, you’re on your feet pulling the hoodie over your head and letting it drape down to your thighs.

Yet again you’ve left Charlie breathless and in a daze.

“You look really cute in my jacket.” Charlie says, this compliment comes out more confident.

A blush makes its way onto your cheeks.

“Thank you!” You say back, opting to sit back down in your spot next to him.

“So why don’t you tell me a little more about you since it looks like our friends won’t be back soon!” You say leaning back to rest on your arms, Charlie following suit.

The next hour or so is spent filled with laughter and conversation. Both you and Charlie enjoying each other’s company. As time passes Charlie gets more confident in his flirting with you, loving to watch the blush creep up on your cheeks.

“Well you’re quite the flirt now aren’t you?” You laugh after Charlie’s last comment.

“Only for a beautiful girl like you.” He fires back just as quick as ever, which causes you to shake your head.

“Hey Y/N! You ready to head home?” You heard Morgan yell to you as she walks back up to your area of towels; pulling your attention away from Charlie and his compliments.

You look down at your watch, it was 7 PM. You didn’t notice the day fly by.

“Oh ya! I didn’t realize how late it was.” You say, getting up.

Charlie, Hannah, and Sam help you and Morgan get your things together. You guys tried to stop them but they refused, wanting to help you guys bring the stuff back to your car.

Charlie did so just for the extra time with you and Hannah knew her best friend and went along with it.

Once you had the car packed up, it was time for the goodbyes. You were a little sad, not wanting the day to end and have to say goodbye to your new friends. More specifically Charlie.

“Well it was nice meeting you guys! Maybe we could do this another time, Morgan you’ve got my number!” Hannah says pulling you into a hug and then Morgan. Sam following her lead.

Then the two of them make their way over to their car which they already have packed with their stuff.

“It was nice meeting you too Charlie!” Morgan says pulling him into a hug and then hopping into the driver’s seat. “I’ll give you two a minute.” She says while doing so and sending you a wink.

The wink causing you to both blush and look down.

You notice that you’re still wearing Charlie’s jacket and go to take it off. Charlie stops your hands as they go down to lift it off your head, “Keep it.” He says with a smile.

“No, I can’t do that! Besides you’ll need it, I’ll be warm in the car.” Again you move to take it off and he stops you.

“It’s fine Y/N, besides it gives me a reason to see you again.” He says stepping closer to you, he still has your hand in his.

“Do you think maybe I could get your number?” He asks you. You nod your head yes, almost too excited while grabbing your phone from your pocket, unlocking it, and handing it to him.

Charlie fumbles around with it for a minute before he locks it and puts it back in your pocket. He reaches to grab your hand again.

“Well it was nice meeting you Y/N.” He says, your chests touching and faces just inches from one another.

“It was nice meeting you too Charlie.” Big smiles are on both of your faces as you both look into each other’s eyes so close to one another.

Charlie breaks your eye contact for a brief second, letting his eyes drop to your lips and then back up to your eyes. You let your eyes do the same.

A breath catches in your throat as you notice Charlie start to lean in closer, you don’t move an inch and you hold your breath.

He stops just centimeters from your lips, “Is it alright if I kiss you?” His lips slightly brush yours with every word. All you can do is nod your head yes.

Then in a split moment his lips are on yours. He has your bottom lip between his two, your lips moving in sync with one another for a sweet kiss.

The moment ends too soon in your opinion, not wanting the feeling of his lips to leave yours.

He steps back to put a small amount of space between the two of you,

“Well it was nice meeting you Y/N, I will be seeing you soon.”

Matching smiles on both your faces.

“Oh really? You sound pretty confident about that Gillespie.” As much as you were excited about his words, you wanted to give him a hard time about it. You liked the look on his face when you teased him.

“Yes really, don’t fight it.” He says while laughing. You laugh along with him.

“Then I will be seeing you soon!” You say with a smile.

“Good.” Charlie says back with a smirk. To which you respond back with a “good” as well.

And with that he leans in and places one more kiss on your lips and pulls you into a hug.

“I’ll see you around.”

Then he’s off and on his way back to his car, leaving you breathless and in a daze. Before he hops in the car, he looks back at you and sends you a wink.

You smile largely and then turn to hop into the passenger seat. Morgan giving you a knowing look.

“Shut upppp.” You tell her laughing and rolling your eyes, all she does is hum back at you with a smile.

Your phone dings after a few minutes of riding in the car in silence. You look down to see the name Charlie with a heart next to it, you smile at the name.

You unlock your phone to see Charlie’s message confused because you saw a message from you to Charlie that you do not recall sending.

It was the photo of the two of you. He had sent it to himself.

You smile at the photo and then smile bigger at his message.

“That’s a pretty good-looking couple if I say so myself. How about a date tomorrow night?”

Who knew a day off at the beach could lead to this.

[1d-discourseoftheday]

Sat 9 Jan ‘21

LP Show Act 4, the Final show was today! Liam told us over and over it was gonna be a long event today but honestly it flew by? It was so good! The show opened right into an absolutely blistering 1D set and just kept going strong from there. The little commentary he had in the first part was to say again that he has a different understanding of the 1D songs then he did when younger and about how when he's doing those songs he gets flashbacks of being onstage with the band and where he'd be and stuff. Only You & I gets a different treatment, with a cute title card intro about the hard year, thanking us for providing a livlihood for his team by supporting the shows through the past year and saying “we can do this together... You & I”, plus it has footage of fans lip syncing along spliced in during the chorus. The highlight there though is when Liam hit that high note, and thanks to his recent comments I think we all know he was thinking about Zayn when he did; way TMI but that's Liam for ya! ANYWAY there's an intermission and then the hits just keep on coming, including Nina Nesbitt coming out to do Rita Ora's part in For You, plus an interlude where they chat and play some of her tiktok content (but with a lot of bleeping-- it WAS a family show!)

I have been a big fan of his chaotic format in the previous streams, with all the interaction and mixing it up with different parts- I feel like it both played to his strengths and was perfect for 2020 and I wouldn't have traded it- but this was very cool for the big last show and it felt like... more serious? It was straightfowardly just Liam and the music and the songs- TBH it felt very influenced by Louis' stream, with the format and also the lighting and set design. The sets were prerecorded, but aren't really edited; he's playing the songs live and back to back, just not TODAY. Plus with the prerecorded version we got Liam joining in with us (and his sisters) to also post about how great the songs were as they aired and interact with fans a bunch, so that was lovely. Anyway it's awesome to get these versions of Liam's songs (I would say the best ever version of some of his solo stuff honestly), especially as it seems like this will be the last time we hear some of them as he moves on to new things- as he says at the end of the stream, “I'm gonna take a little bit of time out right now but next time you see me I'll be singing some brand new music.” Fans hoping for new music TODAY were disappointed but he's gotta go write the songs first! Something to look forward to! He finishes it all on one last high note: “Thank you. Here's to the future.”

But that's not quite all the Liam! Before the big event, he did a live from home, with Maya and Winston the puppy present. He upset some by saying that Zayn wasn't in the 1D chat “because he isn't in 1D”, I mean...yes? He quit? It is what it is guys. Well, I'll also upset others by saying that Maya was very funny! I agree with Liam that her answer to his question- what kind of trend he should start about fans saying looks like Jesus- being “LPhasRisen” is, in fact, hilarious, and I also agree with Liam about Zayn's videos-- “he goes to town on the videos doesn't he?” (and that Vibez is lovely.)

Zayn meanwhile is doing Vibez promo and it continues to be a TREAT. Today we got late night instagram “answering” questions over a backdrop of Homer Simpson decked out in Nobody Is Listening gear, GOOD TIMES. Do you ride a horse often, “eh what?!” do you celebrate, “in general? or for specific reasons?” fave song “the next single” tell us more about it? “yeah it's me ft me” but does he really love yoga or was that just snark? The world may never know.

Also online, Louis! He tweeted during Liam's show “Hope everyone's doing alright! Stay safe”- but was he watching the stream? “Of course!!”

And the JHOlivia love triangle tabloid soap opera continues-- if they're trying to get people talking about Jason Sudeikis it's working (I had to bite the bullet and look up how to spell his name! It's that bad!); unfortunately for him despite the tabloid reports everywhere you look that suggest that he was the victim of H and O 'becoming close' before he and Olivia's breakup (which is weird given that until like yesterday we'd been told for months that O and J broke up at the beginning of 2020 and he never saw fit to correct that), what rumors are saying is that in fact he really did cheat (as opposed to her pretend thing). So why would Olivia sign on to this charade to make him look good at her expense? Who knows man but if the players' priority is publicity there's no denying that's working.

Anyway Niall posted from his bike ride, and Trump's deletion meant everyone went up a notch in the twitter “most followed” rankings, with Niall having most out of our five and the only account coming between Harry and Louis being Real Madrid (football club) which is all right I guess, I feel like they're probably good with that.

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “Into the Unknown With You”

Another one shot from my assorted collection “Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts” - this one playing with some of the ideas I would rather have seen in 6x10 and 6x11, it certainly diverges from canon at that point...

Summary: As Emma searches for a way back home from the Wish Realm, help comes from a surprisingly welcome source...

{One more Author’s Note: The “awfully big adventure” bit is a tiny nod to J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.}

Can also be found on AO3 or ff.net 

“Into the Unknown with You”

by: @snowbellewells 

‘No, no, no!’ Emma’s mind reeled horrifically as she stared at the spot where only moments ago the portal had been whirling, her way home to her son and her pirate wide open. She wanted to scream; it couldn’t just be gone, and yet, a second too much hesitation, and the chance was lost. She looked to Regina anxiously, her fists clenched so tightly she felt the impressions her nails cut into her palms. It was all she could do not to rail at Regina, this whole twisted world, and her own bad luck.

‘What now?!?’ she wanted to demand, wanted to shake her former nemesis turned tentative friend, but one glimpse at the other woman’s stunned, disbelieving face staring across the shoreline at her presumed dead True Love, and Emma knew it would be a lost cause. Having stood beside a grave in grateful stupefaction at her own love’s miraculous return to life not so long ago, Emma couldn’t find the heart to remind Regina just yet that she had spent the last day preaching that none of their surroundings or those they encountered in the Wish Realm were real, and hurry her along. She too found herself blinking dazedly at this other – very convincing – version of Robin Hood for a few moments.

Even if her heart was still crying out for her home and her family, for Henry’s soft hair tickling her nose when she placed a kiss to the top of his head, and Killian’s arms enfolding her, she didn’t know where to go in this topsy-turvy version of the homeland she had never actually lived in, and so she had to wait – more impatiently by the minute – until one of these two, either queen or thief, snapped out of their spell and led the way…

As it turned out, Robin Hood was not the sort of outlaw who would truly do harm to two ladies passing through his territory. He wouldn’t have even made to steal their jewels and furs once the same trance that had overcome Regina seemed to strike him mute as well, but Regina offered him a pouch of coins that had been strapped to her waist and a ruby ring, pressing it into his calloused palm with a quirked smile and the assurance that “she insisted, she was much more partial to his cause than he knew”.

Emma wanted to snort at the ridiculous understatement those words were, and she only barely managed to hold back a roll of her eyes, which she sensed the thief saw but let slide with a conspiratorial wink.

Before she could make an argument for trying to catch up to Gold – or Rumplestiltskin here, she supposed – or ask where they were going to find another bean, it was evening, they were entering a forest in the gathering dark, and soon they had been welcomed to sit around a roaring fire with Robin’s motley crew, and even been offered the ale and venison passed around the circle as if they were part of the merry band.

“Now,” the archer began, seated beside Regina, his boy nodding drowsily on his lap. He looked around her to meet Emma’s gaze head on. “You must be thinking that I owe you an apology. Clearly you were about to leave this place, and because of me, you missed your ride.”

She tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, not wanting to get them kicked out in the cold, or to lay blame on him for something he couldn’t have known, but instead, to her own mortification, she felt hot tears stinging in the corners of her eyes. Though her sight grew glassy, Emma refused to let them fall. “So,” she tried for flippant, even if it fell horribly flat, “does that mean you know where we could get a replacement bean and want to help us get it?”

“Actually, Princess Emma,” Robin winked, a knowing sort of mischief in his eye, “I just might.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

The following morning dawned misty and cool, but fair, and Robin greeted Emma at the simmering coals of the previous night’s campfire with a welcoming grin, Regina at his side on the stump they used for a seat, looking as soft and at ease as Emma had ever seen her, her head resting on his strong shoulder seemingly still half asleep. She and Regina had talked at length the night before, and at long last Emma had accepted that Henry’s adoptive mother wasn’t returning with her yet. “I know he isn’t the same Robin, that this whole place is built on a whim, but I’m not losing him again,” she had whispered vehemently. “There has to be another way to get back…one that he could take as well…if he wanted to…” The emotion welling in Regina’s dark eyes had been raw enough that Emma finally consented to go on without further fighting to change her mind, only giving a nod in affirmation when Regina had asked, “You’ll explain to Henry? Tell him I mean to return as soon as we both can?”

“Ready, your Highness?” the sandy-haired outlaw asked, breaking into Emma’s recent memories once more and looking down at her from where he now stood at the ready. “We should make the harbor by noon, if we set out now.”

“The harbor?” Emma asked breathlessly, dazed for a moment by what this could mean. Her heartbeat kicked up in both anticipation and dread. Surely he wasn’t here too…was he?

“Yes,” Robin answered her spoken question with an amiable nod as he kissed the back of Regina’s hand in farewell and turned to head off with Emma on his heels. “I happen to know a pirate with whom I sometimes trade my less than lawfully acquired goods. He might have just the sort of thing you need to return home…”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

The sound of gulls crying and wheeling overhead and the creak and groan of the wooden docks as they reached the edge of the shore town and neared the sparkling blue harbor was enough to take Emma’s breath away. Robin took a step forward to lead her down the docks, already offering to make introductions, but Emma stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

There before them, as recognizable as always, was the Jolly Roger, bobbing proudly at anchor. Though most might be intimidated by the sight, Emma drew in the first full breath she’d had since remembering herself in this strange realm – as if she had gotten her first real glimpse of home at last. He might still be the vengeful Captain Hook in this reality, but somehow she wasn’t afraid. He would never truly hurt her – and she only wanted to be at his side again without further delay.

Reassuring Robin that she could take it from there, Emma bid him goodbye. Though he looked uncertain, the archer took her at her word and left her with his best wishes. If she clutched his hand a moment longer and a bit tighter than would be normal and bid him be safe a little too fervently – well, she didn’t have to explain herself to anyone here…

At her first step onto the gangplank, a shudder of recognition ran through her, as if the vessel itself was welcoming her back aboard, shivers skittering along her spine. At first glance, the ship seemed deserted, her crew perhaps gathering supplies or unwinding at the nearest tavern, but the air around her wavered, charged suddenly, letting her know she was not alone. Emma felt even before she heard heavy footfalls on the planks or that deep, commanding voice at her back, asking who went there, that she had not gone undetected by the ship’s captain.

Turning, her eyes found him, hungrily drinking in the details; altered, but still without doubt the man she loved. The dark hair was windblown and unruly, practically begging for her fingers to delve into its soft abundance and brush the fringe back off his forehead. Though the strands might be shaggier and generously shot through with grey, it made him no less attractive to her starving eyes. In fact, she only wanted to stare at him all the more, to catalogue every difference, trace the deeper crow’s feet around his eyes and the added lines on his forehead. Those fathomless blue eyes were lined so liberally with the kohl she hadn’t seen him use for some time in their modern Storybrooke life that she almost wanted to chuckle at the effect until she registered the way the blue of his gaze also looked paler – as if washed out by too many tears shed alone and without comfort, or dulled by pain held back because he couldn’t afford to let it show.

Brandishing his moniker, and that dastardly, flirtatious mask he had long since let drop around her, to full effect, Captain Hook stepped well into her personal space. “And who might you be?” he questioned, breath warm on the shell of her ear as he leaned in, hook lifting the heavy rope of her golden braid and tucking it back over her shoulder. It was an achingly familiar gesture and he stood much too close for calm comfort, sending her pulse fluttering again, and yet no recognition lit his gaze as he studied her; the fond devotion she had come to rely on more than she could say was utterly absent, making her heart ache and crack in her chest.

“Princess Emma of Misthaven,” she answered as sturdily as she could, raising her chin and meeting his eye with as much confidence as she could muster. “I had hoped to speak to you on a delicate matter of some importance.”

“A delicate matter, is it?” he asked, his enunciation and the way his tongue caressed his words seductively had not been altered or diminished in the slightest, whatever else had changed. He stood back to his full height, fingers in his waistband, hips thrust forward and looking every bit as sinfully irresistible as he ever did, complete with that wide-open, chest-exposing red vest she had witnessed once in their trip to the past through Zelena’s portal. If she hadn’t known him so well, she might have been fooled by the bravado, but knowing his heart as only a True Love could, she saw the emptiness behind the lascivious look, the pain within the façade – the proper, honorable lieutenant he had been, hating the persona his course had forced him to adopt. Even as he ran his tongue across his lower lip, letting his eyes trace her curves from head to toe almost lewdly, she could see the regret clouding the pupils and the wistful longing – as if he could sense what might have been.

Unable to stop herself, Emma reached forward impulsively, grasping both his hook and hand tightly as she spoke, “Yes, very…but just maybe…I was meant to find you. Maybe you’re the only one who would believe me.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

Another hour found them below deck in his cabin, seated at the scratched, weathered wooden table which had served him in his lonely meals for ages, Emma’s hand still clinging to his hook where it rested on his thigh, but the other reaching up tentatively to trace that faded scar she knew so well beneath his eye. Hook – though more and more her Killian with every passing moment – had scooted closer to her on the roughhewn bench, blinking in awe as she saw hope returning to his face. He appeared both afraid to believe her words, but also desperate for them to be true.

“So you’re telling me that all of this around us – this whole life – is an illusion?” he asked haltingly, not daring to move his eyes from her face, as though he thought she might disappear as quickly as she had come to him.

“Well, yeah, basically,” she tried to explain. “Or more like…it’s a possibility that didn’t actually come true. There’s this v-villain in my home, in the real timeline that I come from, who made a wish that reset things, and I was sucked into it. I have a son, family and friends, a-and another version of you…who’s my True Love…there missing me. And I have to get back to them.”

“There’s another me?” he breathed, and where anyone else would have been skeptical, he looked merely stunned, wanting. “And…we’re…together?”

“Yeah, we are,” she whispered, laying a hand over his rapidly beating heart and drawing comfort from its rhythm. She already felt stronger, more certain, even with this iteration of her pirate. Her watery smile quirked up into a bit of a smirk at one corner, “And don’t worry, he’s still devilishly handsome.”

Her captain’s eyes fell to their joined hand and hook in his lap, huffing out a laugh at her words. “More so than I, I’d wager,” he murmured.

Emma hummed under her breath, reaching out to run her fingers along a grey streak in his longer hair. “I don’t know about that,” she offered. “There’s something pretty appealing about this model, grey hair and all.”

“You flatter me, Milady,” he teased, that voice still a sinful purr rumbling from his chest as he lifted her hand to press a kiss to its back. Still, emotion welled up beneath the flirtation, making his magnetic gaze all the harder for her to escape. She was blinking, nonplussed and floundering for some audible response, when he straightened and pulled her to her feet with him. “Enough lollygagging then! I’ll prepare the old girl to set sail. It’s time we got you back where you belong!”

For a moment, Emma was stunned anew. This full-on piratical version of her True Love, who didn’t really even know her and had no reason to do anything she said, had not only chosen to believe her story, but was going out of his way to help her – just as he had ever since he turned his ship around to take her to Neverland. The lump in her throat was almost too much to speak around, but Emma managed to croak out, “You really would give anything to help me, wouldn’t you?” even as she shook her head in disbelief.

“Aye,” he affirmed, looking a bit like he was marveling at that fact himself. “I am not sure I fully understand, nor can I explain it to you, but I sense that I would – that I am almost compelled – to help you in any world or time you would appear to me.”

“Thank you,” was all she could really say in response, her wondering smile nearly blinding him with its brilliance.

“Come then,” he offered her his arm, his speech all business again, even while the pointed tips of his ear flushed, clearly uncomfortable with the gratitude and praise. “Above deck, and we’ll be off. I know someone who deals in nigh impossible to procure objects.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

Standing beside him at the helm just a few short hours later, wind in her hair and the salt spray on her face, it struck Emma that though she was desperate to get home, to make sure her son, her family, and her Killian were alright, she didn’t want to simply abandon this pirate captain beside her. She didn’t know what would happen to him, if he would find something to live for, something to be part of, or if she was dooming him to his quiet desperation…even if he might simply vanish into nothingness with the rest of this ill-fated wish. She didn’t know what happened next, to be completely honest. Laying a hand on his forearm, she gazed up into his face, swallowing hard. “I don’t know what becomes of you, or this realm, when I leave here and go home,” she admitted. “I’m not sure if you all just go on like it never happened, if you cease to exist, if you wander here aimless forever…I just…I don’t know…”

Covering her hand with his, he guided the ship with no more than his hook rested capably on the wheel. “Worry not, Princess,” was his confident response, fervent resolve painted over his strong, careworn features. “We shall still set things right, as they should be. Whatever comes after this – infinity or oblivion – will be an awfully big adventure.”

Tagging: @kmomof4​ @searchingwardrobes​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @laschatzi​ @jennjenn615​ @tiganasummertree​ @optomisticgirl​ @spartanguard​ @therooksshiningknight​ @thislassishooked​ @winterbaby89​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @hollyethecurious​ @artistic-writer​ @stahlop​ @elizabeethan​ @donteattheappleshook​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @apiratewhopines​ @lfh1226-linda​ @xsajx​ @ineffablecolors​ @drowned-dreamer​ @thisonesatellite​ @kday426​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @xhookswenchx​ @hookedonapirate​ @blowmiakisscolin​ 

[hargrove-mayfields]

Memories Are Golden

The prom of ‘85 was just one week away. If you asked Steve how much involvement he would’ve have in the event, not even a month ago he would’ve guessed it to be nothing more than maybe taking a flyer home and immediately throwing it in the trash.

Because he wouldn’t be able to go anyways, him and his date didn’t exactly abide by the administration's rules, or society’s, for that matter, so he didn’t care about the whole thing, until last minute, when Nancy had successfully convinced him to be a part of the prom committee with her.

The conversation had basically been a very lengthy guilt trip, he’s well aware of that, and her whole, ‘best moments of our lives’ speech hadn’t really done much to change his mind either.

In the end, Steve had only decided he was going to do it for three reasons: he’d get extra credit in the teacher in charge of prom, the math teachers, class, he wouldn’t have to go to any of his morning classes, and Robin joined in on Nancy’s bullying him because her and Heather would be apart of the committee too.

So now for the next week leading up to the big day, Steve has to spend his mornings in the gym putting up the decorations for the grand march.

But it isn’t all bad, because their small little task force made up of the other poor souls Nancy had rallied to do this with her is all of his friends, Nancy and Barb and Robin and Heather, with the addition of one very begrudging Billy Hargrove.

The girls were all the type you’d expect to be into this thing, the crafty ones mixed in with popularity, and everyone knew Steve would do anything to show school spirit, especially if Nancy bullied him into it, but nobody actually expected Billy of all people to even show up.

He certainly looked more likely to be the one crashing the prom than hanging up little foil stars on the walls, and anyways, rumor had it he only was on the committee as an alternative to detention for smoking weed under the bleachers.

But Steve knew that had absolutely not happened, for one thing, Billy’s weed stayed tightly locked up in his bedroom, thank you very much, and for another, he was there completely willingly. Steve knew that, because he’d been the one to tell Billy to sign up.

Which, when it really got right down to it, Billy honestly was the only reason Steve was even doing this whole thing. They were used to working in a couple of very limited interactions on the court or in the few classes they shared, but with the prom committee they’d be required to spend at least four hours together every day. It was the golden opportunity, even if that wasn’t the way Nancy intended it.

So maybe Billy does show up a little late every morning on purpose, just to keep up appearances, but he’s got a smile on his face, hidden behind the styrofoam coffee cup he gets from the cafeteria as he seeks out Steve and sits beside him in the bleachers to wait for that days instruction.

“Mornin’ Bill.” Steve mumbles tiredly, used to coming in late every day and getting at least an extra hour of sleep most days.

Billy nods and hums in his throat as his only response, so Steve asks him, “You wake up on the wrong side of the bed this mornin’?”

And of course, in true Billy fashion, he flashes Steve his most shit eating grin, and says all nonchalant, “Always do when I wake up alone.”

It’s so cheesy, and very obviously meant to get to him, but Steve can’t help the blush that creeps up his neck. He’s still trying to think up an equally as flustering comeback, when the teacher in charge finally shows up.

She announces that this year’s theme was ‘under the stars’, which Steve thought sounded incredibly tacky, but there was still no way it would be any worse than the godawful ‘hollywood’ theme from the year before. Hawkins High had a reputation for a lot of things, but creativity was not one of them.

They get split up into groups, Nancy and Barb in charge of the promo, the writing up, designing, and printing of the announcements and tickets, and Robin and Heather got the delicate detail work, blowing up balloons, laying down the artificial grass squares and hanging or putting in place whatever the other groups made them.

Billy and Steve, on the other hand, were stuck with all the dirty work, the manly jobs. They’re the ones who have to paint the banner that’s going to go over the door, and carry anything that’s considered too heavy and hang anything too high (even though Barb really isn’t that much shorter than them), and set up the tents and string the electricity to the lights in the fake lamp posts.

Quite frankly, Steve doesn’t think it’s fair that they have double the workload as the girls, most of the week had been dedicated to their work, but he just can’t bring himself to complain about getting to watch Billy working every morning, still barely awake yet, his hair pulled up so it didn’t get paint or that much glitter in it.

~~~~~~~~

On their last day in the gym, all that’s left is to sort out a few last minute details, the final squares of fake grass are laid out, lights are tested and glitter is spread out on everything. It doesn’t take too awful long, so they end up with just under three hours leftover to kill.

What they’re supposed to do is report back to their morning classes and try to catch up on all the work they’ve been missing out on for the entire week, but Billy isn’t looking to worry about a bunch of school work, so he tries to convince the rest to skip those last few hours with him.

From Barb and Nancy he gets an instant no, which, he was honestly expecting that. They’re responsible girls, and he can’t blame them for giving two shits about their education. The fact of the matter is though, that he doesn’t.

What he isn’t expecting as much is for his best friend to tell him no, but Heather’s too excited about her senior prom to get in trouble the day before it, and he can respect that.

He already knows that if Heather’s not going, Robin’s not either, so he waves her off before she even bothers trying to explain herself.

That just leaves Steve, and lord knows Billy’s been a bad enough influence on him that he doesn’t even have to ask if he’s ditching, so when Mrs Mitchell and the girls leave, they follow behind until they’re out in the hallway, then duck out of the back entrance of the gym.

Most of the time when people skip they just go home considering the lack of literally anything at all to do around Hawkins, but with Steve’s house too far away for it to be worth leaving, and Billy’s stepmom still at home, that sort of wasn’t an option for them.

Usually they don’t skip for those very reasons, but today they have a handwritten excuse to be out of their classes until exactly 12:15, so in a way, it isn’t so much like skipping as it is just using their free time wisely. Or at least, that’s how Steve rationalizes it, earning from Billy, who thought it was sweet that his former bad boy felt it necessary to make excuses for skipping, a chuckle and a warm smile.

They decide to just hang out on the school grounds, nowhere in town to go but the diner and the stores downtown, and they weren’t in the mood for food nor did they have enough money to blow buying stupid shit they didn’t need, so smoking and sneaking kisses by the tree line on the practice field it was.

It’s nice, but Billy doesn’t like the quiet, furrowed brow as he plucks blades of just growing grass trying to think of something to say that would break the silence. Steve just waits patiently with a lit cigarette burning out between his fingers for Billy to speak, listening intently when he finally says, “You know, s’a shame that I can’t take you to the prom after all that work we did for it.”

“Nah, prom’s way overrated.” Steve blows him off, not wanting him to feel bad about it, personally viewing the dance as stupid anyways, in a way sort of glad he doesn’t have to go, “It’s just a way to pay for new football uniforms and make kids who piqued in highschool feel good about themselves.”

But Billy doesn’t even laugh at that, flicking the head off a dandelion to keep his hands busy as he basically mumbles, “Guess you had time to think ‘bout it already.”

“Yeah. I guess I just always thought dances were kind of dumb. Now that I’m not King Steve anymore I just don’t really see a reason to bother with ‘em.” Steve explains, sliding his hand over to Billy’s across the tips of cool blades of grass, linking their pinkies together and leaning his head against his shoulder, soft touches like these the only way Billy could tell the difference between an open conversation and an argument.

“Still, think it’d be nice to be able to show you off. Let ‘em know what they’ve been missing.” Billy admits, a shy crack of a smile, like he was afraid to bring it up, and it makes Steve smile back, looking straight into the vulnerability behind his blue eyes and saying so softly it’s almost a whisper, “S’not necessary, B. I’m all yours.”

Billy pulls his hand away, a flush on his cheeks that wasn’t just from the warmth of the sun, overwhelmed by the affection just a bit, not uncomfortable with it, just not used to it, and bumps his shoulder into Steve’s, telling him, “God, you’re such a sap.”

“Hey, you’re the one that wanted to take me to the prom.” Steve says, barely even defensive, making Billy smile again.

There’s a break in the conversation, both of them flustered and thinking about the other, until Steve interrupts the quiet this time, leaning back on his hands in the grass and suggesting, “We could do our own prom though, you know.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well, we can’t do the real thing, obviously, but I don’t have any other plans tomorrow. You should drop by.”

“You’re really askin’ me to be your prom date?” Billy smirks, but the vulnerable hope in his eyes gives him away, and makes Steve’s heart flutter, though he replies nonchalant, “Who else? Be there at 8:30?”

“It’s a date. See you then, pretty boy.” Billy says with a smile, leaning in to kiss Steve, but getting interrupted by his watch beeping, their break time almost up already.

Steve chuckles and kisses his nose, and says, “Guess we better get back then.” waiting for Billy to leave first so his boyfriend had a head start to get into the school before him.

Billy throws a wink over his shoulder as he retreats towards the gym doors, and suddenly the weight of what they’d just agreed to settles with Steve.

Maybe this prom thing wasn’t as overrated as he thought, because did he ever feel over the moon right now, blushing like an idiot and just standing there dazedly until he hears the bell ring inside the building.

Apparently it showed too, that butterflies in his stomach feeling he had for the rest of the day, if the fact that Robin pulled him aside in the cafeteria for an emergency meeting about why he couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off his face was any indication.

He told her some lie, something about one of the teachers he got his makeup work off of cutting him some slack, and Robin doesn’t believe that, but she knows it’s none of her business, so she lets him keep smiling.

Still, as much as Steve was looking forward to this, at the end of the day when he waved at Billy from across the parking lot, he got nervous. Like, speeding back home to Loch Nora in under ten minutes on a normally fifteen minute drive nervous.

Because he still has a lot of shit to get done between now and tomorrow night when Billy is supposed to show up.

For one thing, his house is a disaster. He almost never cleans it until it’s too late, half-assing the dishes and overloading the washing machine and hiding things in closets usually the day before his parents were supposed to get back.

Another thing is how should he dress? He had a few fancy suits of his own from outings with his parents and past dances, but he knew Billy wouldn’t. Still, wouldn’t it be rude to underdress just because he assumed Billy would be too poor to clean up?

And what did people even do at prom? Get drunk and have sex? If Billy wanted to do that he would’ve just said so. How was Steve supposed to figure out what else they were going to do? The rest of prom is just bad dancing and even worse food, was that something he was supposed to include?

What if he’d sent the wrong signal in the first place and it wasn’t just going to be them? What if Billy showed up at his door with a bunch of other losers skipping out on prom night and this wasn’t really special at all?

The thing is, he knows he’s being irrational. Billy’s not the type to care about this stuff, and even if he did he wasn’t gonna like, break things off just because their little fake prom in Steve’s living room wasn’t perfect. That’s just ridiculous.

So he tries to redirect that initial panic into productivity. Get at least something planned out and put together before he freaks all the way out and loses his motivation.

He decides to do it in small parts, tonight he’d start with the cleaning and getting everything he already had together, and tomorrow would be for shopping and decorating.

Because he’s got such a scatterbrain, he makes a list of all the things he needed to get done before 8:30 tomorrow night, and already he feels the stress start to dissipate with each thing he gets to check off, the living room cleaned until Ruthie would approve, picking out a nice sweater he’d never worn before, fancy but not too much, and tracking down all the things he already had, a record player, the fancy wine Billy said he liked, and a couple of strings of fairy lights and tinsel.

~~~~~~~~~

The next morning he goes straight to Melvald’s, with the rest of his checklist to but candles, more decorations, a boutonnière, just to do it, and maybe something other than takeout to eat for once.

He must look as nervous as he feels, dumping his purchases on the counter, because Joyce smiles that understanding smile of hers, and asks him, “Last minute jitters before prom?”

“You could say that.” He responds breathily, trying to return the smile.

“Jonathan and Nancy decided not to go, but it sounds like it’ll be fun.” Joyce says with a nod, and Steve realizes he’s given her the wrong impression, explaining, “Oh, I’m not going to the real thing either, just hanging out with a friend tonight.”

“Well that sounds nice anyways.” She says, as she rings up his stuff remarking, “You must really like this friend to go all out like this.”

“Yeah he’s-“ Steve physically shakes his head, a reminder to stop talking before he gets himself caught, backpedaling with a shaky excuse, “I-I mean, it’s not like it’s a prom date , it’s just, you know, two guys hanging out.“

Joyce puts her hand on his, that same warm smile still on her face, and tells him, looking him right in the eye as if to say, ‘I know, but it’s okay’, “I’m happy for you, Steve. Have fun tonight.”

Steve nods, a flush to his cheeks as he leaves the store with not another word than, “I… Thank you Mrs. Byers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Billy knew absolutely jack and shit about school dances.

The first and only he’d ever been bothered to go to was way back in elementary school, and that didn’t exactly hold a candle to the fucking prom.

It helped some that it wasn’t the real thing, but Steve was talking like it might as well be, and quite frankly, he wanted it to be. This was going to be special goddamnit.

But before he can even think too much about it, he realizes none of that will matter if it turns out he can’t show, so he brings it up with his dad at dinner.

At the table is where he’s least likely to get beat if Neil said no, so that was always the time he chose to ask for things. “I know it’s, uh, kind of last minute ‘cause it’s tomorrow night, but could I go to the prom?”

Neil quirks an eyebrow, seeming mostly uninterested, “With who?”

“Nobody as a date.” Billy explains, using the cover story he’d been coming up with since the minute Steve asked him, or rather in anticipation of, “Heather has a spare ticket ‘cause her actual date ditched her last minute and she asked me if I would go with her.”

Neil nods, seemingly believing him, and asks, “When’s it start?”

“Uh, about 8, I think, so I’ll probably leave at like, 6:30 or so.” Billy throws it out nervously, tapping his fingers against the underside of the table, and freezing when Neil speaks.

But he doesn’t get yelled at, it’s just a simple, calm, “Susan, do we have anything planned that time tomorrow?”

“No, dear. Max is going with her friends at six, but other than that...” Comes her timid response without a hitch, and Billy already knows he’s in the clear before Neil gives his response, still not looking up from the table.

He agrees, but with a few conditions that Billy wouldn’t dare disobey, “If you drop your sister off first, you’ve got yourself a deal. Just don’t come home if you’re drunk, and don’t waste all my damned money on pictures.”

Billy nods, his heart racing in anticipation of something he was pretty sure at this point wasn’t going to happen, though some part of him was still waiting for the slap across the face and a never your mind as he says dutifully, “Yessir. Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~

Billy starts getting ready six hours early for two reasons: for one thing, the sooner he’s ready, the more time he had away from Neil and to psyche himself up to knock on Steve’s door, and for another, his hair on a normal day takes at least an hour if he doesn’t want it frizzing out or losing it’s curl or getting heavy, and this was his prom, he was willing to spend a whole day on his hair for the sake of looking nice, even if there were no pictures of it.

Of course Max, being the little nuisance she is, follows him to his bedroom when he goes to get ready, holding the door open with her foot so he couldn’t slam it in her face, and earning herself a grumbly, “What do you want, Maxine?”

“I thought you told me you weren’t going to the prom.” She says it like she caught him doing something wrong, as if plans couldn’t change, and it pisses Billy off a little bit.

“I’m not-“ He starts to explain, cutting himself off when somewhere in the house Neil pops the tab on a beer can, a tiny sound Max probably hadn’t even picked up on, but if his father was out and about in the house Billy doesn’t want to admit what he’s going to in front of him. He opens his door wider and ushers his step sister in, immediately shutting it behind her and finishing what he was saying,  “I’m not going to the prom.”

She quirks an eyebrow, through Billy’s eyes maybe looking a bit too much like her step-dad when she does it, “Why’d you tell Neil you were?”

“Crashing the after party. Thought it’d look better if I said I went.” He just shrugs, half assing the lie, and, picking up on that, Max fires back smugly, “You’re lying.”

Billy snaps, no longer looking at her while he starts lining his shit up on his makeshift vanity, getting ready to get ready, “Yeah, I am. But it’s really none of your business, shitbird.”

“Are you going on a date or something?” She looks at him knowingly, if not a little surprised, and asks as it dawns on her, “Oh my god, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Maxine Nicole!” He hisses through his teeth, turning to glare at her and seeing that she’s holding his hair spray that he literally just put out, probably planning on stealing it, “Jesus, give me that.”

She lets him snatch it out of her hands and puts it back in its spot on the vanity she told him didn’t count as a vanity multiple times, rolling her eyes, “Yeesh. I’ll take that as a yes then.”

“If you’re going to tell on me Max, I swear to god-“ He starts, defensive, more vulnerability in his voice than intended, but Max insists honestly, the most not bratty she’s been since she stepped into his room, “I’m not, I wouldn’t.”

Though it doesn’t last very long, her not being a brat, because she immediately cracks a big smile and asks Billy, “Who is he though?”

“Mind your own, Max, Christ.” Billy blows her off, catching glimpse of himself in the mirror and taking note of the barely there flush to his cheeks, pointing to the door and telling his meddling step sister, “Out.”

“Awww, Billy-“ She tries to whine, but he cuts her off, “ No. Out. Of. My. Room.”

But Max offers quickly, like it’ll change his mind, “I’ll do your hair if you let me stay.”

And maybe it doesn’t immediately change his mind, but it does successfully stump him, because he’s asking her, equal parts genuine curiosity and sarcasm, “Why would I let you touch my hair?”

“No reason.” Max says, looking down at his carpet, definitely overplaying the bashfulness in bringing up her answer to appeal to Billy’s emotions, “I just thought, and maybe it’s stupid but like, most guys have their moms to fuss over them for prom, but, you know, you don’t, so I wanted to, I don’t know, be a good sister and do that for you or, whatever.“

Billy sighs, that had been exactly what he was thinking about all night last night, how his momma would be proud of him for finding a way to do this with the person, the boy he loved, and how she could’ve been there to do exactly what Max said, so he agrees, “Alright shitbird, guilt trip successful. You’re not kicked out.”

Max claps her hands together and sits on her brother's bed, getting all of Billy’s wrinkled button ups tossed at her from where they had been previously shoved, unfolded into a dresser drawer, and a command to, “Help me pick a shirt.”

She asks him while she’s unfolding all of his shirts he’d thrown at her and spreading them all out over Billy’s bed, “Are you going to button it.”

“What do you think?”

“Billy. It’s your prom.”

“Fine. One more button.”

“Two?” She tries to bargain, but he shuts it down again, making her giggle when he jokes, his tone level like it's a real threat, “One or I‘m going shirtless.”

“Then I pick.. this blue one.” Max says and puts her hand on a navy blue, quarter sleeve shirt after careful consideration of holding each button up up to Billy and thinking hard about it, but one more once over and she changes her mind, handing Billy a white shirt with snap buttons instead, “No, no, no, wait, this one with full sleeves is better. Yeah, that one for sure.”

“Sleeves it is.” Billy says taking the shirt and hanging it on the door so he’d remember to iron it, crudely shoving the rest of the button ups back into the drawer, and asking Max, “Will I need to wear like, a coat or something?”

She shrugs asking him smugly, “That depends on who it is.”

“Sensitive information.” Billy says immediately, when she looks like she’s going to argue shutting her down before she can say anything, “Which means I’m not tellin’ you.”

“Can I guess?” Max asks, making her case by reasoning with him sweetly, “Please? You wouldn’t be telling me that way.”

He genuinely considers it for a minute, and decides it’s whatever, in his head assuming there was no way Max would be able to figure it out, so he waves his hand with an eye roll, giving her the go ahead to start guessing.

Her first question is, “Okay, okay. Is it.. someone I know?”

“Yep.”

Max furrows her brow, and asks, “Do I like him?” To which Billy shrugs and responds, “Probably.”

“Um, is it…” Max snaps her fingers, an idea coming to her, “Is it Tommy?”

But again she’s shut down, because for somebody she’s supposed to probably like, she sure does a lot of complaining about Tommy, and he calls her on it, “Do you like Tommy?”

Max hums thoughtfully, taking a second guess, “I guess not. Is it Keith?”

Billy shakes his head, giving her the most confused look she’d ever seen on his face as he asks, or basically exclaims, “Who the fuck is Keith ?”

“Well excuuse me for not knowing a lot of guys around here!” Max says, defensive, making Billy roll his eyes again and turn back to digging through his drawers for a decent pair of jeans to wear with a button up, most of them stained and worn.

“Not Tommy, not Keith, who’s left?” She thinks hard then gasps, connecting something in her mind, a devious, knowing little smile on her face, “Is it Steve?”

Billy doesn’t answer her, quite frankly doesn’t know what he should say. It’s his fault, letting her guess between the only three boys his age in town she apparently knew, but now that Max knew who his mystery boyfriend was he wasn’t feeling so hot.

Honestly, some part of him is expecting Neil to come busting through the door any second, like this was some sort of run around way of finding him out, but after a few minutes of her squealing like teenage girls do, he realizes all he has to face is an excited little sister.

He flushes, and asks her over his shoulder, his forcing his tone to sound bored, “Are you done?”

“Yes.” Max says, nodding, but she smiles wide and dissolves into a fit of giggles again, covering her mouth with her hands when Billy crosses his arms, and insists, “Okay, okay, I’m done!”

“Good.” Billy says, but he can’t help cracking a smile. He angles his mirror down towards the floor and sits in front of it, telling his sister lightly to, “Help me with my hair then, shitbird.”

Max sits behind him, and runs her fingers through his hair, “You should’ve put curlers in it or something last night.”

Billy rolls his eyes, realizing as he does so for the dozen things time since Max barged in that she maybe learned that from him, deciding that doesn’t even warrant a response, and hands Max the comb and one of the many cans of hairspray off of his vanity.

She sits up on her knees, and brushes back the hairs just behind his ears that always frizz out and lose their curl, holding them at the back of his hair with a bobby pin, one of the blond ones she bought specifically for him so he could use them without immediately getting caught using ‘girly’ things, but had so far been too scared to anyways.

It looks strange on him, looks more like something Max would wear than him, but honestly he doesn’t hate it, so he lets her keep going, only frowning a little when she adds a pearl adorned hair clip, big enough it looks more like a fancy brooch, to the back of his hair.

She sprays it with so much hairspray it’s tacky, scrunching it up so his curls are tighter, and smoothing the sides so they won’t come unclipped.

When every curl is in its place and approved by Billy, who insists he’s not in the least bit emotional about what Max had said early, that thing about having nobody but her to fuss over him, she hops up, telling him to, “Wait one minute.” while she runs to her room.

She returns with her bulky pink Caboodles box, the one that has all of her mostly unused makeup in it, tapping him on the shoulder and telling him, “Alright, turn towards me.”

Her plan didn’t work though, at least he’s almost positive it was her plan to break down his defenses just so she could use him as her dress up doll anyways, but he isn’t having it, telling her quickly to “Put that shit away, Max.”

“Why? You wear makeup everyday.” Max observes simply, making Billy hiss and tell her to lower her voice, “Yeah, but never the extra strength shit that makes your eyelashes curly and your face pretty. Neil will sniff this out the second I step out of this room.”

Max just shrugs, “Then I’ll make sure he doesn’t see your face. It’s not a big deal.”

“He’ll make it into one.”

“I think your senior prom is an even bigger deal, though.”

Billy sighs, once again losing to her arguing skill, and turning to face her like she told him, “You owe me if I get caught like this.”

Max rolls her eyes and does her magic, each second that passes Billy regretting agreeing to turning the control of his appearance over to his little sister, expecting to come out of this looking like her Diva doll, fidgeting more and more the longer it takes her.

Just before he’s about to panic, Max tells him, “All done.” and lets him look in the mirror.

He blinks repeatedly at his own reflection, surprised to see he didn’t have sparkly eyeshadow up to his eyebrows or rouge on his cheeks, just a tasteful amount of lip gloss and a copper tint to his eyelids, framed by darker than usual eyelashes and the smallest bit of eyeliner.

She gets impatient after a few minutes of Billy not saying anything, and pushes his shoulders to turn him around again to look at her, staring at him until she decides what she thinks is missing.

She hurries to the upright jewelry box in her mother’s room, and brings him back a clip on pearl earring for his right ear, opposite the chain of silver stars she already picked for his left.

“Here, it’ll look better if you have earrings in both ears.” She reaches up, pushing his hair out of the way and clipping the earring on, letting him do the screw on the back himself so she didn’t make it too tight.

Billy lowers his hand and scrunches his nose, leaning in slightly towards the mirror, “They don’t match.”

“It looks nice though. You look really pretty.” She tells him honestly, not realizing the impact the simple compliment, though not so simple for somebody like him, has on her brother until he’s trying to subtly blink away tears behind mascara coated lashes, pretending like that wasn’t the case and telling her, “Whatever, it’s too late to change it now if you want to be on time.”

He does one last once over himself in the mirror, though he knows he’s going to be using his car windows for the same purpose at the last minute, and shoos Max out of his bedroom door, trying to hurry out of the house before Neil can stop him and see him all dolled up.

He’s got one hand around the door knob and his keys through his belt loop when his dad does stop him, his heart just about stopping as Neil calls from the other room, “Do you have flowers for the girl?”

“I have a corsage in the car.” Billy lies, hoping his tone is sure enough for Neil to buy it.

“Good. Just remember what I said, boy.” Neil says, still from the living room, so Billy lets his posture relax a bit and breathes out a quiet sight, saying casually, “Get Max to her friends, don’t spend any money, and don’t come home drunk, I got it, dad.”

“Watch the attitude, William.” Neil says low, the air going still for a minute until he adds, “And have fun tonight.”

“Yessir.” Billy says, ushering Max quickly out the front door, sighing when it closes behind them.

~~~~~~~

Billy drops Max off at the Wheeler’s, just driving around Hawkins until it’s time to show up at Steve’s, making sure to stop past the Holloway’s place just in case Neil went asking around wanting to know if anybody saw his car in the neighborhood.

At 8, he decides he doesn’t want to show up empty handed, buying Steve some flowers like he’d lied and said he had for Heather from Melvald’s, not understanding the knowing look the cashier lady has in her eye when he brings a dinky bouquet of flowers to the checkout counter.

He rings the doorbell at 8:30 on the dot, checking himself out one last time in Steve’s window while he waits, fifty cent roses held behind his back.

On the other side of the door, Steve stands in the dining room, now adorned with cheap party decorations that would’ve made his mother pitch a fit, waiting a whole thirty seconds before he goes to answer it, trying to collect himself first.

Billy smiles wide, and, as cheesy as it was, seeing him standing there all dressed up taking Steve’s breath away and stealing the words right off his tongue, Billy having to invite himself in because Steve was busy catching flies.

He hands him the flowers, nodding towards the silver tinsel wrapped around the banister, the stars hanging in the archway that lead into the living room that were almost identical to the ones they hung from the basketball hoops at school and saying, “Place looks nice.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Steve says, quickly adding, “You know, you look nice too.”

Billy smiles softly, looking at him with that ‘you’re an idiot Steve Harrington’ look he was so used to by now, “C’mon, Stevie, we’ve been dating for four months now, you don’t gotta be all awkward with me still.”

“I’m not, I mean it, you look really good, Billy.” Steve says, smiling now that it’s his turn to fluster Billy.

“Oh by the way, I almost forgot. Got you this just because.” He remembers, handing Billy a box with a floral pin inside, pink roses with lace, and telling him expectantly, “It’s a boutonnière.”

But Billy doesn't open it, just raises an eyebrow and says, “I thought you did corsages for prom?”

“Corsages are for the girls.”

“Ah. Got it.” He says it like he already knew that, like he was hoping maybe Steve didn’t, so Steve offers, not really understanding it, but knowing what he means all the same, “It came as a set, I still have the corsage upstairs, if you want it.”

Billy nods and pins the boutonnière to Steve’s shirt instead, explaining simply, “Just so we match.”

Steve runs upstairs and gets the corsage, giving Billy a minute to actually appreciate just how much went into decorating this place, snickering to himself when he imagines Steve having to stand on a step ladder to put the string lights so high up on the wall.

Steve tosses Billy the box from the top of the steps, letting him open it while he comes back down and ties it around his wrist, having to tie it twice because he put it on the wrong way the first time.

Billy asks him, shaking his wrist to make sure the bow is tight enough, “So what’s our official plan for tonight, Stevie?”

“Honestly I don’t really know. I’m sort of just winging it here, I don’t know what you even do at prom.”

“You never went at all?” Billy asks, surprised miss priss hadn’t dragged him along to their junior prom last year.

“Nope. Like I said, overrated.” Steve confirms, and Billy smiles wide, saying, “I’m sure I got a few ideas in mind then.”

~~~~~~~~

Billy’s idea basically consisted mainly of drinking all that fancy wine Steve had gotten out of the cellar specifically for this, shoving his tongue down Steve’s throat, and complaining about the real prom happening up at the school.

Honestly, Steve suspects things wouldn’t have been so different had they actually gone, but he can tell the fact that they weren’t able to go was still bothering Billy, judging by the sheer number of times he brings it up.

After what must be the tenth time that night Billy brought up Heather and Robin getting to go, Steve asks him, “Do you wish we were there?”

“No, that’s the thing. I couldn’t give a damn less about the whole dance, a thousand times over I’d rather just be here with you.”

“But?”

“But I wish we had the choice to go, you know? It’s just, bugging me that if we had genuinely wanted to go, we couldn’t’ve.” Billy rants, very obviously having been holding this in, “And I keep thinking about all the other gay kids who don’t have a big empty house or a safe place to do what we’re doin’.”

“Yeah, but it’s really not a big deal. Prom is pretty much all for the parents anyways, and the way I see it we, and all the other people like us, we’re so used to disappointing them, what’s it matter if we don’t go?”

“Just, I don’t care about the event or whatever, but it feels like we’re missing out on something. Like maybe we should’ve just swallowed our pride and went with Hetty and Robin anyways.”

Steve stands up abruptly, picking up their wine glasses and kicking the coffee table all the way over to the far wall to clear the floor, offering Billy his hand, “I know you feel like you’re robbing me of something by us not going, but we don’t need all of that for this to be good. I meant it when I said that’s superficial to me anyways. We can make it mean something to us.”

Billy looks up at him, still bothered deep down, but out of ways to argue about it, and accepts Steve’s hand, wrapping his arms around the back of his neck when he pulls him close by his waist.

It’s not really a slow dance as much as it is an excuse to just be close to one another, to breathe each other in and sneak kisses and be sappy, but that’s was this whole thing was about. They could’ve just hung out tonight if they wanted, and honestly they probably would’ve anyways, but they called it a prom, put that title to it that made both of their hearts pitapat.

Steve had always heard, even felt it a few times before, that when you were with the person you loved, everyone and everything else would melt away around you until it was just you, but somehow, this was different than that.

Because that would mean there were times when his world didn’t revolve around Billy, and that there was ever a moment when he could focus on anything but the boy he loved, and that just wasn’t true.

This wasn’t performative, wasn’t a relationship formed on the status of being able to show off that they were better for being in love either, this was simply Billy and Steve, dancing in their tennis shoes on Ruthie's carpet, snickering when a particularly sappy song came on the radio, barely able to be separated long enough to turn to side B, falling in love all over again under the stars.

~~~~~~~

When the wine bottles are all empty and the stack of records has been spun through, Steve’s schnockered, and insisting they get a picture, searching the house for an old Polaroid camera and making Billy stand with him in front of the fairy lights strung

They only had three chances to get a good picture, no new packs of film and only a few left in the camera, so Steve took all three.

The first one was upside down and so off center he was hardly in it, Steve being maybe a little more drunk than he thought, and the second Billy closed his eyes because the flash was too bright, but it didn’t matter too much anyways because the film didn’t develop properly and the picture was nothing but reddish-yellow tinted blackness anyways.

The third one by some chance turns out fine, maybe a little blurred because he moved and still not quite centered right, but it’s a picture, something to hold onto the memory of this night forever when the hangover wore off and things got a little blurry, and that was important to the both of them, for different reasons.

As soon as it develops, a little 8 by 10 of Billy kissing his cheek, Steve runs upstairs to hang it on the cork board above his desk before it gets misplaced, dating it and doodling a little heart with a S+B inside it, hiding the picture behind a ribbon for a middle school art contest and a picture of him and his parents.

Billy hooks his chin over his shoulder, his hands traveling a bit lower than Steve’s waist this time as he watches what he’s doing. He hums and asks, when Steve stands up straighter and turns in his arms to face him, “So? What have you got planned for the after prom, Stevie?”

[deepdonutkid]

Buy me a drink and let me tell you why I need it

Authors note

Thank you very much for the request    @caelys​ I had fun writing it and actually I thought about modern!au John way too much. Like I made a model for his apartment and a playlist and I could possibly draw ten more fan arts of him.

It takes place in a modern setting, but it starts before John goes to the military. He and Tommy still work in the Garrison, besides some other shadier jobs. Arthur is a car mechanic or something like that. Ada still goes to school and Finn too. Polly and Michael are not mentioned here.

Female reader x bartender!John BIG PUNK VIBES HERE!

Actually, this was going to be a multi-chapter fic with intense slow-burn, but whatever there it is. Just say one thing and I’ll write a second part!

tagging  @bonniesgoldengirl​

 Warning: drinking, drug use, marijuana, swearing, infidelity mentioned, a little bittersweet

Word count: 2348

 The garrison was not a pub for everyone. It was full of gangsters and other low-life scum. A woman was a curiosity. Working there wasn’t pleasant, but John didn’t complain.

It was the only legal job he got after graduating. He worked at the Garrison twice a week, usually on Friday and Saturday.

The nice thing about this work was the free beer and he could make as many cigarette breaks as he liked.

Nevertheless, John was a little pissed that night, because he could see his friends drinking over there and he had to stand behind the counter. Tommy’s orders!

“Fuck off, Tommy”, he mumbled while cleaning bar. Of course, his brother didn’t hear that, he was busy making some phone calls. John didn’t want to know, who Tommy was calling or why. Probably their next job.

But while he was still on the first one, he didn’t want to think about more work. He already had enough. It was past ten and John hadn’t eaten for hours.

At first, he was to occupied from his work to notice you. You sat down at the bar and cleared your throat. It wasn’t on purpose or to get the bartenders attention. Actually, you just wanted your peace. You hated being trapped in your new apartment, while everything was still so empty. Since you moved, so much changed in your life, but you still felt lonely.

That’s why, you walked straight into the nearest pub, when you couldn’t bear the weight of your own thoughts. But now you realized you hadn’t a penny left. Or at least not enough for a beer. “Get me a glass of water please.”, you said to the bartender, who kept starring at you. First you thought he was a little weird and also a little intimidating, but then you understood what he expected from you. An order, of course.

“A glass of water?”, he asked with a grin on his face: “Really? You know, where you are, girl?”

Now you looked confused. Maybe there was an unspoken rule, to not order a soft drink in this place, but how you should know? After all, you’ve been pretty new to Small Heath. Three days ago you moved into your new place. It was small, but it was yours. Your private space and your sanctuary. “A pub… maybe?”, you joked: “So what about the water?”

“Ah, I get it… It’s the end of month.”, he responded.

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m always broke. Money is not my thing.”

“Not mine either.”

Now he got your attention. You took a closer look at the bartender. He was somehow handsome. A pretty face for a fucked-up place like this. Then you noticed the tattoos on his arms, that peaked out of the sleeves of his shirt. “Dead Kennedys. Nice”, you mumbled and smiled slightly, barely visible.

He put a filled glass in front of you and smirked. “No need to pay.”

Your eyes widened. That bartender really surprised you. He was nicer than he looked like. You took a sip from the glass and nodded. “Thanks… I guess.”

The water was okay, but everything you wished for was a beer or a whiskey. Something to stop your brain from thinking. However, you nipped the glass very patiently, because you didn’t want to leave this place too soon. You didn’t know the neighborhood and chances were high, you got lost on your way around town.

The bartender seemed to notice your tension. “Do you want to drink something else?”

“A beer would be nice.” You croaked

The handsome man behind the bar nodded and pulled out a pint. “A beer, it is.”

You didn’t know it yet, but you were the only thing tonight, that made his work bearable. Everything else was so boring and you were new in town. Every little thing about you was so exciting for him. Staring with the fact that you stumbled into the Garrison without knowing its reputation. Then your little comment about his shirt, yes, he heard that. And your overall appearance was just the cherry on top.

The leather jacket, the ripped jeans and your washed-out Kurt Cobain shirt said a lot about you and John was ready to listen. What else should he do in the next couple of hours until his shift ended?  

“I’m John.”, he said and served you a beer.

You noticed the twinkle with his eye and replied with a shy smile. “Just call me Y/n”

The two of you shook hands and exchanged a strange glance. Was he flirting with you? No, of course not, you brushed it off. It was part of his job, to be nice to his customers.

After a few sips of your beer, you calmed down a bit, but not enough. You fumbled in the inside pocket of your jacket for your package. You smoked Dunhill and probably started way to early in life. An end of your smoking addiction was not in sight. The package was already half empty, when you opened it.

“Fuck” you cursed and signed. How could you make it to your next pay check with just a few cigarettes left? Maybe skip dinner a few times.

“Cigarettes are empty too?” he asked “I would give you one of mine, but they are empty too.”

“No, I still have some left, but not enough until July. Maybe not even enough for the rest of this night.”, you explained.

You took two out of the package and put it back. “Want one? I don’t have money, but at least I still have something to smoke.”

“Whatcha smoking?” “Dunhill”, you answered.

A wide grin appeared on his face. “Me too.”

“I know, I shouldn’t… but I just can’t quit.” You shrugged and lit your cigarette.

John brushed it off. “Fuck em. I think, I’m never gonna quit too. This shit just stays with you forever.”

“True”, you signed and took a deep drag from your cigarette.

“So… why am I the only girl in this place? Is there something I should know?”

“Nah, not really. It’s just…”, he began to explain, but then paused to smoke. You liked how he leaned against the counter. Like there was no cooler person in this room. “I don’t know… most women don’t like it here. Too filthy or whatever.”

You nodded and looked around. Everything smelled like ashtray and whiskey. There was dirt lying around. Nobody seemed to bother, so you chose not to either.

“And you are new in Birmingham?”, he asked: “All the locals know to stay away from this place.”

Again, you nodded and hid your smile behind your hand. “I just grabbed my bass and some clothes and left.”

“Bass?” Now, John was hooked. Since he could walk and talk, he had a thing for music. Especially rock and punk and he blabber about his favorite bands all day. Of course, he never learned to play an instrument, because his family was too poor, but he stole every record he could lay hands on. “You play bass?”

“Yeah, I can also play guitar, but I sold mine to get here. I started playing in a band now and I really hope this is going to work out… somehow.”, you explained

“Maybe.”, he said: “I can ask Harry, if you can play here. Live music would be great.”

You beamed and jumped almost over the counter. “Really?”

“But I need to listen to a song first. Otherwise, I can’t do it with good conscience.”

“Yeah, sure thing! When I get the promo tape, I’ll come back here.” Finally, some good news for you. After all you went though you really needed that and right now you just couldn’t stop smiling.

Three beers later, you were already in an in-depth discussion about music and which bands paved the way for punk.

After six more beers, you danced to the song he put on. John watched you with the purest joy. Nobody has ever danced in the Garrison. Good for him, that Tommy left, because “something important” occurred.

On beer twelve you sang for all the man to watch. The Shelby just could take his eyes off you, even when you didn’t hit the right tone.

He even caught you, when you fell over the counter.

But in the end the bar had to close and you still had nowhere to go, so you waited for him to finish his work. It took twice as long, because John kept staring at you in awe.

After everything was done, he asked, if he should walk you home and you agreed. Actually, you didn’t say yes, you hugged him and rubbed your cheek against his. Then you made a purring sound and told him your address.

You even hold hands with him, but that was mainly, because you were to drunk to walk straight. But you had plenty of time to sober up along the way.

Finally arriving at the front door, you had to stop laughing and catch a breath to manage to say something. “Do you…”, you began and paused, because you didn’t know how to phrase it.

Without hesitation he answered: “Yes! Yes… I mean, it would be cool.”

And again, you started laughing. “I was about to ask, if you want to watch the stars on my rooftop, but I didn’t know you were going to be so excited about this.”

He scratched his neck and chuckled. “Yeah, we were talking about the same thing.”

“Oh honey, I’m taken”, you explained

That last three words crumbled his hopes, that have been build up since you walked into the Garrison.

But he was a gentleman and he shouldn’t expect anything from a woman. After all, you don’t owe him anything. Even though he thought you were flirting with him the entire night.

He just bit his lip and shrugged. “No problem here.”

Then he added: “But we might not see the stars though all the smog and light pollution.”

“Let’s give it a try.” you opened the door and smiled.

You took the steps up to your apartment, John followed you closely. When the two of you entered the small flat, everything was still dark. The alarm clock next to your mattress said four in the morning.

John was so curious, when he looked around. “You really didn’t lie, when you said, you just took you bass and nothing more.”

“Yup”, you mumbled and walked to a pile of clothes. “Do you want to smoke one with me?”

When you pulled out the joint, John grinned at you. His cheeks were still red. “Why not?”

Climbing out of your window and onto the roof sounded way easier than it turned out to be.

But the view was great, and that was enough.

You lit the joint and inhaled the white smoke, just to blow it out again.

“No stars in sight, babe”, he noted while looking up

He was right, but you were still glad, that he came up here with you. You feared the moment of being alone again. “Yes, but the view… is amazing.”

You didn’t notice, he was glaring at you when he said: “Yeah, it really is.”

Then you turned to him to pass him the joint.

John took one drag and coughed. “That shit’s strong.”

At first you tried not to laugh, but ended up giggling anyway.

“What?”, he asked with blunt curiosity.

When you calmed down, you had to tell him the joke that just crossed your mind: “I like my weed like my sex… keeps me paralyzed for a while.”

That was the last thing he thought he would hear from you. He would believe his ears, if he hadn’t starred at your lips the entire time. “Uhm, okay.”, he whispered and hit the joint one more time.

The longer you sat there with him, the more comfortable you two got. After talking the whole night about music and artists and stuff, you finally opened up.

You told him why you left your home town and moved to Birmingham.

And he told you in return something you would have expected either. “Just a few more months and I’ll be in the military.”

John didn’t look like a soldier or somebody who took pride in defending his country. You couldn’t understand, how a wonderful guy like him ended up serving the forces. It just didn’t seem to fit in. But then again, you knew him for a few hours now, so who are you to judge?

“I’m scared”, he whispered: “that nobody but my family will write me… and I’m going to be all alone in the middle of nowhere.”

That feeling was all too familiar for you. Your heart ached, when you glared at him. “I write you.”, you promised. “And phone you and what else.”

“You would?” His voice was full of doubt. “We don’t know each other really.”

It was true, but you always kept your promises. You moved closer to him, to hold his hand and look him in the eyes. “I would. I know this feeling too well.”

For one second you thought he was going to kiss you, and you were ready. The drumroll played, like it always did, when the first touch of two pairs of lips, unknown to each other, was close. But the drumroll was all you were going to get tonight. You kept staring at his beautiful mouth and how would it feel, when his lips meet yours. Infidelity has never been your thing and you would stay true to yourself, even when the chance was so tempting.

“Can you hold me?”, you asked, while avoiding his eyes. You felt pathetic for being so needy in front of a stranger, so you added: “Just for a while.”

John didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Instead, he just pulled you in arms and stroke your back.

The two of you felt all alone in this broken world, but right there you met and became friends. What a weird thing to happen.

[anthrcpcmcrphic]

YOU KNOW WHAT? I WON’T BE HAVING FUN, FUN, FUN 

[endlich-allein]

Promo "Liebe Ist Für Alle Da" (2009), Christoph "Doom" Schneider  — Interview by Philip Lageat, 16-11-2009, Nantes (Rock Hard #94)

Rock Hard : With six studio albums in the bag, it must be more and more difficult to establish a setlist. How do you deal with that ?

Christoph "Doom" Schneider : Strangely enough, we take our heads less at this level than in the studio. I am therefore going to surprise you by telling you that this is done as simply and naturally as possible, since we ultimately proceed in a very democratic way : each of us draws up a list of our favorite titles. We then compare the desideratas of each... and the majority wins, provided however that the songs chosen fit well into the show. We did it this time around and it worked really well, since we shared an identical opinion on many songs. Personally, I find that we have found a good balance between old songs and new songs. We play a lot of songs from our last album, Liebe Ist Für Alle Da, which suits me well because I admit that I was fed up with some old titles. I was almost sickened by playing them. So we discarded them, otherwise I think we would have quickly become jaded of the new show. So we had to be careful what we choose, because, given the special effects that we deploy on stage, it is quite difficult for us, after the fact, to make big changes in the setlist. It is that each of us must know precisely what to do, and where it must be, during each song : a misstep, a second of inattention, and you are toasted like a peanut ! (laughs) Anyway, a setlist usually follows you during a whole tour and I'm happy with it which, as I said, seems to me to be a happy medium, a pretty harmonious balance, between old and new songs.

RH : Twenty years ago almost to the day, on November 9, 1989, we witnessed the fall of the Berlin Wall. As an East German, do you remember this historic moment ?

Christoph : Yes, I was in town. In the middle of the night, I heard the radio announcing that people were destroying the Wall. It must be said that, for a few days already, the rumor had swelled that this was going to happen. But I stayed home because quite frankly, I couldn't believe it ! (laughs) It wasn't until a day or two later that I crossed the Wall for the first time to go west. At the risk of disappointing, I was therefore not one of those people we saw on TV riding the Wall and destroying it with a pickax or hammer. I remember I was of course delighted, but the shock was such that it took me a while to adjust to this new life : during the first two or three years, I had the feeling of not being able to be part of nothing and of everything at the same time, to evolve in a space of total freedom. To tell the truth, it was an extraordinary period ! In East Berlin, it was chaos. We squatted in houses where we organized huge parties... (smile) There were no rules and a sweet scent of anarchy hung in the air. Musically, we all continued to play with our respective bands and for a while it didn't go so badly. Until we realized that the situation had changed dramatically and that these bands belonged to a period from now on bygone, were from another age. We felt that the time had come to start a new adventure by creating another group. The foundations of Rammstein were laid... From the start, we defined what our sound should be. Very quickly we figured out that even if we rehearse hard, we would never be able to sound like an American band. That's why we tried to create something unique, which really looks like us.

RH : Do you remember the first concert you saw in the West ?

Christoph : It probably must have been an unknown punk band. But the first big gig I attended was a Red Hot Chili Peppers show at a tiny club. In 1990, it seems to me. They were not as popular then as they are today and did not perform in large venues yet. Before this concert, I had never heard of it. It was a Californian who was squatting at my house who told me that it was a good group and offered to go see it. When I think about it, I wonder what she and I could say to each other, since I couldn't get a word of English ! (laughs) Anyway, we went to this concert and I took a huge slap. Never before have I seen something so exciting ! This is an evening that I will never forget...

RH : Despite multiple internal friction, Rammstein has always kept the same line-up. How do you explain this stability ?

Christoph : Rammstein is only worth the sum of his individualities and their uniqueness. If one of us left, or whoever, we wouldn't be dealing with the same group. Rammstein would no longer be. So, it's true, there were tensions between us during the recording of the last album (see previous interview), but that's how Rammstein works. I believe in these guys... And then we always had a fight every time we set foot in the studio, and that, for any album. It's just that, when we were younger, we were able to find common ground faster because we were less stubborn and had less ego. Maybe we are too stressed out today when we work together, because we know it is going to be a long and painful process. And that, we find it more and more difficult to bear it. But for me that's a good thing, because these tensions are a blessing, in that they sharpen our creativity. Without them we would not achieve exciting results. We only yell at each other over simple taste issues : "I like it, why don't you like it too?". It's just that sometimes we tend to forget about it and take things too personal. At my level, I now tend not to want to impose my point of view if the majority does not think like me. Others, on the contrary, do not get along with age and refuse to give up even the smallest square inch of land (laughs). Hence endless heated discussions. Not to mention that the producer also has an opinion and that we therefore have to juggle the desires of seven people. You should know that for the most of us no longer get along with the producer (Editor's note: the Swede Jacob Hellner who has so far produced all of Rammstein's albums) in terms of choices and tastes. We have not changed, not evolved one iota. We are still able to develop this stupid energy in order to provoke, and I like that because some people expect us to mature with age, that we become more "adult". And here we are shooting a porn clip (Editor's note: allusion to the video for the single "Pussy") ! (laughs) We're still the same kids who, twenty years ago, were overflowing with youthful enthusiasm : "That's going to be a blast. So what are we waiting for ?"

RH : To conclude, do you really sell this box containing Six dildos that we could see on the Net ?

Christoph : (Visibly embarrassed) I have no answer to that question. I think this is more of a joke than a reality... And then who would buy this anyway ? (laughs)

© P.R. Brown (2009)