#‘Yeah sure.’ < person who thought she’d just be grabbing like 3 pics and had no clue she’d become hyperfocused for hours

[fumifooms]

do you happen to have that page that talks about the beauty standards of each race?

Yeah sure. While scavenging pics for this I found this neat reddit compilation & chart & theory talk too. I had um, way more to say than I anticipated (I know you only wanted the one page. I have nothing to say for myself. Like most topics in Dunmeshi things snowball because they’re so interconnected. Mercy…) so, many races and observations are only mentioned near the bottom.

Beauty standards and race in Dungeon Meshi

Not pictured there’s also how elven society is harsh on visibly disabled people, and how the demon took away Mithrun’s silver eyes and ears to take away his pride. There’s also how Senshi might have fit in with the orcs more easily because of the dwarven wide body shape, and how they tend to have more body hair too I suppose. In the extra on orcs we see Senshi living with the orcs and he gets judged because of the hierarchy rather than his looks.

What is fashionable also differs from culture to culture, and there’s how tattoos only seem common with elves, though dwarves and others do also sometimes have some. They seem to not raise much brows, which makes sense since for many essentially they’re for professional (magical) purposes especially with elves. Gender roles also differ in type and importance, but generally they are similar to irl ones for the races we see. Elven society seems to be the least gendered, which would be an unsurprising logical outcome of having lesser sexual dimorphism aka they look more androgynous. Comparing fashions and gender roles and how they affect beauty standards would be a whole other compilation and conversation. Kui has great worldbuilding partially because she’s got such a good grasp on sociopolitics and geopolitics. History affects cultures and beauty standards greatly. Kui’s oneshot Distant Utopia was very eye opening on her way to worldbuild and the consideration she gives these things, I do really recommend reading it.

Out of the big 5, we know the least about gnomes, but their sheet does say both culture and region are similar to dwarves’ and they end up being confused together often, so we can imagine the beauty standards are similar to dwarves’ as well.

I wanted to touch on this in a post eventually, but how one daydream hour page said half-foots tended to be curvaceous like in the artwork below puzzled me for a long time, all the half-foot characters we see during canon are rather slender and lanky after all, Chil’s succubi also being more curvy than plump. Economics are for sure a factor in that I imagine, the half-foots characters we see are all implied to be some flavor of poor or malnourished, as are half-foots depicted as empoverished oppressed minorities in general. Even comparing the artwork with the half-foot sheet’s depicted average half-foot, the ones on the left seem bigger. Wouldn’t it make sense though, if unlike dwarves half-foots don’t have similar naturally wide bodies, yet due to idolizing dwarves they work towards having a similar body shape/type to emulate them?

It’s said half-foots tend to stick to pretty ethnically homogeneous regions (aka half-foots-only communities) unless they move to the big city with ambition to try and make it big (like Chilchuck and his wife & kids did), and that’s interesting imo because then that would mean that in a ton of half-foot communities, they rarely see or interact with dwarves whom they try to emulate. Of course, one thing about beauty standards is that when they get adopted, at one point it stops being "this is how dwarves look and so this is how half-foots should look" and just becomes "this is how half-foots should look", most people feel as though beauty standards aren’t learned but innate, so I figure the half-foots wouldn’t have any problem still seeking dwarvish traits when there are no dwarves around.

There’s also stuff you can glean here and there if you want to extrapolate more. Like how in the race swap artworks, Mickbell is only smiling in the dwarf portrait, and Rin’s elven portrait looks very close to her elven one- Rin who is stated to be beautiful in her profile blurb. Benichidori’s extra does teach us tallmen can definitely have harsh beauty standards, but also since the text portrays her as very dysmorphic that’s likely reflected in her thoughts to a much more intense degree than is common, not an accurate strict baseline to go off. Ah, Kabru’s blue eyes are also why he and his mother lived a rough life in Kabru’s hometown, but that seems to be regional. Good post here on the topic of Kabru’s blue eyes and ties to irl history. There’s a lot to be said about Kabru being a man that in many ways is close to elven beauty standards, and how that might have affected or been affected by his upbringing with elves + his persona as someone that can effortlessly charm most people. Marcille’s section here in this essay also goes into Marcille’s struggles to fit in with the ideal image of an elf.

Looking human

Also notable are beastkins and demihumans: Demihumans are all dehumanized which makes people treat them worse. So if you differ from the visual idea of "human" (an in-world subjective categorizatiom just as much as demihuman is) most people do judge you negatively. Elves and dwarves get to fight about which type of human is considered the prettiest, but demihumans are below tallmen and half-foots, they are considered as simply below the beauty contest, incompatible with it.

Onis are perhaps the demihuman people we know of with the least cultural influence on the dunmeshi world, and with less intensely different appearances than other demihumans, but even them are treated as lesser than human, treated as beasts to slain for reputation points or useful strength to have around and command. It’s said their "magnificient horns" and fangs are often shaven off when the oni lives in tallman towns, so you could easily make the argument that onis are denied the right to have their own beauty standards, having to conform to other people’s and going through mutilation to take away features they might otherwise have taken pride in. Inutade was bought by the Nakamotos from a dangerous sumo fighting ring that got one of Inutade’s tooth broken on her first and only fight. Remember when I said different fashions existed in dunmeshi and how those could also affect beauty standatds? Like the elves, if you look at the portraits pages that include a lot of characters that aren’t in the story you can see distinct cultures within the same races, for example one young elf is bald which is in sharp contrast with usual elven long luscious hairstyles, and that’s especially true for onis I think. Maybe not only from different regions but different eras as well… They have a bit of population in the very north of the western continent, so I like to think some of the ogres live in very cold, maybe even subarctic conditions. The point I’m getting at here is that within a race, culture/ethnicity like with Kabru as well will also influence them, different communities will have differing beauty standards. The oni history blurb and third row first collumn portrait remind me of Mongolia (which historically was a lot of different nomadic communities with different cultural identities as well. Something something, the oni empire experienced a decline and then tallmen overpowered them, and now they’re governed and split apart by stronger social classes & slavers and the richness of culture was hurt for it), but obviously many of them are dressed and look rather japanese, makes sense considering living in/close to Wa, and first row second collumn portrait reminds me of ainus which again would be logical considering geographical placement, though I’m far from an expert. Interestingly, ainus are indigenous people both in Japan and Russia- Perhaps the northern western continent ogres are meant to be closer to Russia than Canada like I imagined? Ok tangent over.

The kobold sheet says they’re especially sought after as slaves because they’re "adorable", but locally in the western continent they’re repeatedly said to be seen more as ferocious and dangerous. The dehumanization is most apparent in the first comic below. The language barrier and conflicts no doubt worsen this by a lot, but I think it’d be hard to deny that their canine appearance makes the dehumanization worse. "They’re ferocious beasts, they’re demihumans, they can’t be communicated with". Most characters in Dungeon Meshi’s world are desensitized to slavery and most characters are prejudiced one way or another. Point being, kobolds are fully removed from human beauty standards, but no doubt for kobolds, other kobolds are more beautiful than humans are. They’re assumed to be an uncivilized bunch, but just like any other people they like to aforn themselves with nice clothes and jewelry and keep themselves clean and groomed; they too take care of their appearance and take pride in it.

And the orcs! This one we have the most contact with in canon, with not only there being foreigner characters from the ethnicity or hearsay of their homelands and culture but full on contact with a community. We get to see up close what they’re like and what they think, and of course in turn they’re our introduction to how demihumans are harshly looked down upon and seen as inferior, less human and thus less worth valuing and less dignified. It’s text that orcs are ugly to most humans and humans are ugly to most orcs. Since I judged they didn’t need accompanying explanation the pictures showing this are in the pictures dump at the top.

God forbid you sell vegetables to orcs my god- but then again they do basically mandate adventurers to kill any orcs they come across so yeah the world isn’t above that even a bit.

So yes, my main point here is simply that orcs are yet another evidence of the physical ideal of "human" being an important beauty standard for human societies globally.

Izutsumi is our glimpse at how beastkins are treated in the world, and in Wa at least that’s ending up being caged and mistreated as part of a freak show. Izutsumi hates her appearance and wishes she could leave the feline part of herself behind to only be human. Interestingly, not that we have a lot of info on them so this is very much a take with a grain of salt situation, but there seems to be less stigma around artificial beastmen, those who can shapeshift at will. The main difference is of course appearance, that most of the time they simply look like average tattooed humans. Artificially creating humans is an illegal practice, and no doubt it’s not well regarded, but being able to hide that makes them less likely to be discriminated at any moment, or even just discriminated less intensely. Again, looking human is important, not only for belonging but for safety’s sake. Beauty standards rule the world with harsh hands.

Mermaids and fishmen

Ok we’re done now right? Right-! But wait… Wait…! Mermaids and fishmen are said to be demihumans too, special separate cases to the main three demihuman species however, which is also represented by how mermaids and fishmen both are in the Adventurer’s Bible chapter Monsters meanwhile ogres, kobolds and orcs are in the chapter World. They’re an interesting topic because they directly tackle this topic, not only in a meta way for the readers but also making characters themselves struggle to quantify their humanity with the goal of knowing wether they should be eaten or not, especially Chilchuck. Chilchuck’s "is it really just a matter of feelings?" mini arc.

The party asking themselves "Should we eat this?" is very common, and often they end up playing a little loose on morality, like eating the red dragon’s meat despite it having digested Falin. Not unsimilarly Marcille freaks out a little over the vegetables they harvested having been grown with fertilizer, aka largely human poo. Half of the motivation of "should we eat this perhaps sentient creature" is out of consideration and compassion, but more strongly and more often, the characters struggle with a sense of taboo at eating something too closely related to humans. Even, feel uncomfortable because of the deepseated impression that eating it would dirty them in some way. Cannibalism is an interesting and relevant topic in many ways, but what I want to mention is how there’s the more or less universal belief that committing cannibalism inherently taints you as a person and turns you more monstrous, morally but also literally depending on some myths such as w*ndigos and onis in some cases, like in Touge Oni. Marcille and Izutsumi both express a fear of eating monsters turning them monstrous. Maybe this is part of what Laios was hoping for, honestly. There are two fears here, if eating a demihuman monster constitutes as cannibalism or not, and so, will eating it taint you because it’s a human, or will eating it taint you because it’s a monster? You are what you eat, until it’s a little too literal. You morally are the means by which you get your food, and you physically are the result of your nutrition. Dungeon meshi manages to mix an exploration of humanity with the theme of food because our relationship to food is very deep and complex, psychological as much as physiological.

In the end, the characters sort of shrug and accept that they’ll never quite understand the world of mermaids and fishmen and how they operate, and what that means about them. Laios is the one always challenging these notions other characters take for granted, it’s not obvious to Laios why people are softer on mammals than other animals and plants, it’s not obvious to Laios why people would be afraid of eating a monster just because it’s a monster, it’s not obvious to Laios why some food is gross to Marcille but not fish testicles, it’s not obvious to Laios why you should immediately regard orcs and kobolds badly.

"Cows are probably closer to humans [aka closer to being human] than fishmen, though they’re clearly intelligent", dehumanization to lessen empathy towards them to be able to eat them. Meanwhile, mermaids seemingly have a less noticeable "civilization" or intelligence, they hunt in groups like fishmen, but they don’t use tools and such, they feel more primal and similarly instinct driven, and yet… Do they attract sympathy more? Mammals, humans, is it because of their nature or because of their appearance?

Both the nature and appearance of fish are ones people don’t typically sympathize with. "Fish don’t feel pain", "goldfish only have 5 seconds of memory", "it’s okay to keep in bowls too small and empty for them until they die", so many lies and misconceptions exist that make people less considerate of them. The average lifespan of a goldfish is 10-15 years, the record is 43, but they’re not seen as lives that really matter, so a lot of goldfish die in a few weeks of bad aquarium conditions. There’s a lot of research on animals evolving to look cute and appealing to make some predators want to kill them less and parents want to care for them more, including humans. First good google research result gave me this credible short article on the topic. In Chilchuck’s weighing wether a fishman is far enough from being human or not, "face is 100% fish" is his biggest argument for it being more acceptable. The face, the most important thing for empathy and recognition. The face, the decapitated fishman one that falls into his hands next chapter.

To quote @room-surprise: "Chilchuck can't explain why it's wrong to eat the merpeople, even though it's NOT complicated. But the problem is Chilchuck would have to accept and acknowledge that the merpeople might be people? And that's outside of the worldview he passively believes, so he can't just say that, because he doesn't think that's true. But that IS why he "feels" it's wrong. And it's all you'd need to say for Laios to understand! But it would require acknowledging that maybe the way they're treating and talking about the merpeople is wrong."

The idea of Chil not being able to grapple with how maybe some monsters are more humans than they seem, him who had been an advocate of half-foots rights, half-foots who get undermined and treated as inconsequential sacrifices… Grappling with how he could relate to the merpeople’s situation almost, and pulling away because it’s so existentially horrifying. I do not want to see myself into an hostile fish-faced warrior I can’t communicate with. In a way this also relates to Chilchuck being the only party member who doesn’t see Izutsumi as a cat in the relationshio chart, the only one to treat her with full human dignity. He knows the struggle to be taken seriously, he knows being infantilized and he knows what it’s like to be treated as less than human.

Below, you will see Chilchuck draws the line of where they become not okay to eat as when "they already look like mermaids". Above, there’s speculation that the algae hair is partly to mimic "the mermaids’ beautiful female form". Is it because mermaids are their enemies and the ambiguity might give them extra seconds to attack or flee? Is it to trick adventurers instead? It’s striking to me that this is what works, with the adventurers. Sure the fishmen are intelligent, but explicitly here, what makes them no longer acceptable prey to Chilchuck is that they look close enough to a mermaid, close enough to human. Mermaids who of course themselves have this form to entice and seduce and charm the adventurers they prey on. Chilchuck considers the intelligence due to the tridents, but most of his internal debate centers around their appearance, and the image of a fishman skewered sickens him. The power of mimicry… Mimic being a beautiful human woman. Mimic being cute, babies being wired to make us feel protective and softened. Half-foots, sometimes pretending to be children for scams or help or avoiding trouble.

The mermaids are only concerned by their differences and not their similarities, and have no trouble treating the fishmen as food rather than peers. To an outside perspective like us, the audience, all these categorization of "more human" and "less human" between onis and orcs and elves and tallmen etc seem stupid and unfounded, but to the people living in Dungeon Meshi’s world, elves may as well be mermaids while onis are fishmen, not alike at all, unworthy of empathy and thus fine to eat.

Ultimately, Dungeon Meshi promotes unity. It’s about seeking to understand the unknown and the misunderstood, the dehumanized and the inhuman. It shows the good that comes from seeking to understand what you do not, even when that’s one another.

[ragingbookdragon]

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 3

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst! Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines

Author's Note: DUN DUN DUN!!!! Y'all enjoy this now, because it's only gonna get so much more angstier soon. -Thorne

Set Three Months After PT. 2:

She didn’t have to look up to know who entered the shop, because his voice carried over the air. “Melisandre!”

Humming, she immediately plated a pastry and a hot coffee, sliding it on the counter just as he sat down. “Good morning, Wally,” she greeted, watching him take a bite. “Right on time, as always.”

He smiled, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “Morming Merisamdmur,” he replied, and she rolled her eyes with a snort.

“Jeez Wally, didn’t your mom teach you to not talk with your mouth full?”

Shrugging, he swallowed and said, “I was trying to be polite.”

“I think it’s more polite to chew with your mouth closed and speak after you swallow.”

They glared at each other before one of them cracked a smile and they fell into laughter. She tossed a napkin his way. “How’s your day going so far?”

Wally groaned and laid his head on the cool marble countertop. “I’ve got so much to do today, it’s not even funny.”

“Well, well, Wally the procrastinator is finally feeling his toes at the fire, huh?” She ignored his glare. “What do you have to do?”

“Barry needs my help with my cousins and my friends are coming over today to hangout and I haven’t bought any food or drinks for that and I have yet to even start cleaning my house.”

She giggled and reached over, patting his head sympathetically. “There, there, Wally. Everything will be alright. Why don’t you just bring your cousins over to your house and watch them while you hang out with your friends?”

“Because my cousins are annoying and I’m not subjecting my friends to that,” he countered and propped his chin on his palm. “Unless…”

She cocked a brow and waited for him to continue and he offered, “You come over with my cousins and help me watch them?”

“No.”

“What! Why?”

“Well for starters, I don’t know your friends and it would be weird for me to just show up.” She countered.

“They’ll like you though!” he cried, and his hand shot out, wrapping around hers. “Please, Melisandre!”

“Wally, I’ll just watch your cousins at my apartment and Iris can just come get them later, that’ll be easier and won’t force me to sit in a group of people who don’t know me.” He tried to speak but she tossed another napkin, hitting him in the face. “I’m watching Dawn and Don so you and your friends can hang out without being bothered, and that’s final.”

His face pinched. “You sure you can keep up with them?”

Something passed between them and she quirked a brow. “I can keep up with you, can’t I, Wally?”

Wally chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a fair point.” He glanced at her. “They would like you though.”

She ignored the comment in favor of, “Tell me about them. What are they like?”

He inhaled sharply and took a moment to think. “Donna’s strong willed, Roy’s loud, Lilith likes to get in your head, Garth is easy to annoy, and Dick’s kinda the glue that keeps us together.”

“Dick? He get that from Richard by asking nicely?”

Wally barked a laugh. “Oh, I’m definitely gonna tell him you said that.” He nodded. “But yeah, his name is Richard Grayson, but he goes by Dick.”

Her eyes almost bulged out of her head and she was lucky that Wally was looking at his watch then.

Don’t ask. Don’t do it. Leave it alone.

But she couldn’t stop herself.

“Richard Grayson?” she feigned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

Wally met her eyes. “Bruce Wayne.”

She snapped her fingers. “Right! The ward.” Wiping the counter, she added, “I heard they added a new addition to that family too. A daughter, right? Cassie? Cassidy?”

“Cassandra,” Wally corrected. “Yeah, that’s Dick’s new sister.” He put his elbows on the counter. “She’s nice, doesn’t talk a lot though.”

“The quiet one, then?”

He laughed. “Of them all.”

Don’t dig any deeper, (Y/N). Keep your fucking mouth shut and let it go.

“I always wondered what happened to that other daughter he had,” she murmured, and Wally’s face blanched like he’d witnessed a murder.

“What?”

She met his gaze. “He had another daughter. I think her name was (Y/N).”

He swallowed thickly. “He does.”

“Does? She’s still around?”

“Yeah, she’s in some Italian villa.”

“Wait really? I thought she died or something?”

“What? No! She left—” Wally snapped his mouth shut like he was about to reveal a secret, but she knew anyways. “She left and went to Europe for a mental retreat.” He finalized and she wondered if that was the story Dick told him to say if anyone asked. Or maybe it was Bruce.

“It’s been like three years now, right? You’d think she’d post something on social media.”

“The whole point of a mental retreat, Melisandre, is to get away from social media.”

Oh please, I know plenty of elite who do that shit and still post crap on their socials.

“There’s no way that girl hasn’t.”

“Why do you say that?”

She scoffed. “Oh please, she’s the daughter of a multi-billionaire. There’s no way a girl that wears Gucci belts and carries Prada purses keeps herself off social media.”

Wally’s eyes narrowed like he was thinking hard about something and she internally cursed.

Oh, smooth move you dumbass.

She coughed and waved a hand. “Well, it’s all theory anyway.”

After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah…theory.” Wally got to his feet and handed her the empty plate. “I should go ahead and get back to my place and clean up before they get here.”

“Have fun,” she smiled, and he grabbed her arm.

“Take a pic with me.”

“What? Why?”

“So, I can tell my friends about you and prove I’m not lying.” He pouted. “Pretty please, Melisandre?”

Don’t do it. Dick will know. You know he’ll know.

She smiled despite her internal thoughts. “Sure.”

Wally grinned and raised the camera where she was in the background. She threw up a peace sign and gave a cheesy grin, momentarily blinded by the flash of the camera.

She spun and filled a bag with pastries then handed it to him. “Here, so you can give even more proof.”

Wally took the bag and hopped onto the counter, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks Melisandre!” And he was dashing out the door.

You’ve ruined it all. This is going to come back to bite you in the ass. And it’s going to come quicker than you think.

She frowned and wiped down the counter again, trying to ignore her thoughts. Maybe. Just maybe, it wouldn’t.

***

Waving Barry and Iris off, she smiled as the twins climbed into the backseat of their car and the taillights signaled their departure. She closed the door behind her and glanced at the mess the two tornadoes had left. Even for the little she had in her apartment, they sure did know how to make a mess.

She sighed as she bent over to pick up one of the cushions when her doorbell rang and she stood up, confusion coming over her as she made her way to the door.

“Hello?” she asked, and a muffled voice echoed from the other side.

“Melisandre, it’s me, Wally. Can I come in?”

She opened the door, surprised to see him. “Wally? What are you doing here? I thought you were with your friends?”

“Yeah, I told them I had to do something really quickly,” he said as entered her apartment. He took a moment to examine her living room. “Man, Dawn and Don did a number here, didn’t they?”

She chuckled. “We had fun building forts.” Nudging him in the side, she added, “I don’t mind the mess.” She looked at him. “Do your friends know? About you being…you know?”

He nodded. “We’re all special in some way.”

Understatement there, Wally.

“So, why tell them you need to do something then come to me? Is everything alright?”

Busying herself with the couch cushions, she waited for him to explain, but nothing could’ve prepared her for his words.

“It will be once I get to the bottom of it…(Y/N).” She froze for a split second, but it was all he needed. “It really is you, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) stood upright and gazed at him. “When did you know?” Her voice was a lot colder than she meant for it to be.

“I had suspicion for a while, but when I showed the picture to everyone, Dick said it looked like you.”

“Really?” she laughed. “I thought I did a good job changing my appearance from three years ago.”

Wally didn’t laugh, he merely gaped at her. “Why?”

“Why what?” (Y/N) knew what he was referring to.

“Why’d you just leave?” He took a step towards her. “Do you have any idea what your family has gone through since you disappeared on them? The grief? The shame?”

She shrugged. “I explained everything in the letter I wrote my dad, Wally. There’s no reason why they should still be concerned with me.”

“They love you!” he shouted, taking her by surprise. “They love and miss you so much!”

“My family ignored me for eighteen years straight, Wally!” She yelled right back. “What was I supposed to do? Sit and pretend being forgotten was all normal?!” (Y/N) couldn’t help but shove at his chest. “I chose to leave because my next choice was taking a swan dive off Wayne Enterprises!”

His eyes went wide, and she shook her head. “I left because the only person who cared about me, was me.” She turned and fixed the final couch cushion while he watched her do so.

“They’re still looking for you, you know. Dick is always staring at his phone hoping there’s a text from Jason or Tim that they’ve found a sign of you.”

(Y/N) sighed. “If you’re trying to guilt trip me, Wally, it’s not going to work.” She shot him a glare. “I got over the fucking guilt the second the flight to Central took off. I got over the fucking guilt the night I laid in a hotel room bed curled into a ball where I cried myself to sleep. I got over the fucking guilt the moment I realized I’ve done so much better on my own than when I was there.”

She marched up to him and got in his face. “I got over the fucking guilt when I realized Barry and Iris Allen were more of a family than four brothers and dad ever were.”

They glared at each other and finally, she let out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already started a new life here and I have no plans of ever going back.”

“At a college that doesn’t have a real name. You know that’s illegal, right?”

(Y/N) scoffed. “What’re you gonna do, Wally? March into four-C and tell them Bruce Wayne’s daughter is going to school under a false name? We both know you wouldn’t.”

“I’ll tell Dick,” he suddenly shot back, and she went rigid.

“You wouldn’t dare,” (Y/N) threatened and he took a step towards her, getting nose to nose with her.

“Try me.”

They stared one another down and she said, “I think you need to leave, Wally West.”

His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I guess I should.” He spun on his heel and marched to the door, but stopped when she questioned,

“Are you really going to tell him?”

Wally gazed at the ground for a moment then he murmured, “…No…it’s not my place to.”

(Y/N) swallowed and nodded. “Thank yo—”

“Don’t thank me, (Y/N). I’m lying to my best friend about knowing the real location of his baby sister he misses dearly.”

She looked away. “Cassandra is his baby sister now. He should focus on her.”

“You really have no idea about what they feel for you, do you, (Y/N)?” He asked, and she grunted.

“Get out, Wally.”

“Don’t worry, I’m gone,” he spat, slamming the door behind him, hard enough that it shook the walls that held the doorframe.

(Y/N) stared at the door for a few moments then cursed sharply and collapsed onto her couch, eyes directed to the ceiling. Three years down the drain in one conversation.

Way to go, (Y/N). You did a spectacular job of keeping it all under wraps.

She groaned and picked herself off the couch, not caring about the mess as she headed to bed. She’d deal with it all in the morning.

[sleep-i-ness]

Wrong Door (Sirius Black x reader)

Synopsis: Your roommate wakes you up in the middle of the night because she can’t get into the flat. Or so you think. (Muggle AU) FOR MY 500 WRITING CHALLENGE

A/N: do not follow what reader does in this in real life. IF SOMEBODY PASSES OUT DRUNK AND DOESN’T WAKE UP, CALL AN AMBULANCE (usa people i don’t know what you do. call an uber to the hospital?)

WARNINGS: Alcohol, really shitty first aid, swearing

BANG! Y/N bolted upright. Fuck, were they being burgled? She checked her watch, groaning at the time. It was 3 in the bloody morning and she had an 8am class. She swore lightly under her breath; she’d clearly fallen asleep while studying on the sofa, a textbook on her lap and an empty bottle of wine in her hand.

She wasn’t one for going out in middle of the week, unlike her roommate Marlene, so being woken up in the early hours of the morning was a common occurrence. Usually Marlene would just stumble back into the apartment, tripping over everything lying in her way. Tonight, she had clearly decided to break the fucking door down.

Y/N heard a key fiddling at the door, and she sighed. That was when the pounding on the door started. Time for her to go help Marlene out.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she grumbled, extracting herself from the cocoon of sheets and cushions.

The banging didn’t lessen, and Y/N groaned as black patches clouded her vision momentarily. Mentally reminding herself to grab some water on the way back from the door, she trudged over to the hallway, propping herself against the wall for two seconds as she swayed slightly. Her fingers clasped around the latch and she pulled it, swinging the door open.

“You’re not Marlene.”

“You’re not James. Did he bring you over or something?” The brunette stranger rambled, pushing past her as he stumbled into the apartment. Y/N was too taken aback to protest at first, watching the man walk in as if he owned the place. “You can close the door, y’know. I didn’t bring back a girl this time because James said he’d literally kill me if I kept him up again. What a hypocrite.”

The man reached out to hang his jacket on an empty patch of wall, staring at it blankly when it fell onto the floor. He tried again, feeling for a hook that didn’t exist and Y/N watched him confusedly from where she stood by the still-open door.

“What on earth are you doing in my flat?” She found her voice at last; his audacity was astounding!

“Your flat? Love, just because James brought you over once doesn’t mean you can start claiming our stuff,” he seemed almost affronted, slurring his words as he let his jacket be on the floor. 

“No, this is my flat that I share with my roommate Marlene. Who the fuck is James? And, more importantly, who the fuck are you?” Y/N had to admit, she was getting a little riled at this point. This drunk man had just waltzed in and begun claiming the place as if she didn’t exist.

The man opened his mouth to protest before taking a good long look at the coral walls and pictures that hung all over them. He closed his mouth, paused, and turned to look at the hall table with their tatty fringed lampshade and geometric-print table runner. Y/N could almost hear the cogs whirring in his brain as he stared bemusedly at the room.

“Fuck. This isn’t my flat. Where am I?” He seemed honestly and completely confounded, scrunching his face up.

“You’re near Kensington, we’re a few roads back from the high street and the market. This flat block is number 48-53?” Y/N gesticulated as she tried to explain where exactly her apartment lay.

She was too busy explaining to notice the queasy expression spreading across the man’s face. He shoved back past her to stick his head out her door and promptly throw up all over her front step. Disgusting. And she was going to have to clean it up! He swayed back and forth, before collapsing backwards, narrowly avoiding falling feet-first into a pile of his own vomit. Y/N contemplated just leaving him there and shutting the door on him. But she knew deep down she’d sorely regret it if any harm came to him because she refused to help him. It wasn’t the dodgiest of areas, but the nights were bitterly cold.

“Hey,” she tapped him on his shoulders, calling upon her memories of first aid and how to deal with a drunk person. He didn’t stir, even as her taps got harder and she decided to take her chances and slapped him straight across the face. She gasped as a red handprint bloomed on his cheek, yet he still didn’t wake up. Hand still stinging, Y/N grabbed his arms, heaving as she attempted to pull him inside. Managing to pull him into the living room, she gently rolled him into the recovery position, ensuring that he was still breathing and that he wouldn’t choke on his own vomit. A dead man in her living room would be difficult to explain to her flatmate.

Y/N trudged to the kitchen, dragging her feet along as she pinched her eyelids to try and keep herself awake. She just needed to grab a glass of water to help with tomorrow’s inevitable hangover and a blanket for the drunkard. Somehow, she managed to complete the task, leaving her standing over the man now covered in her biggest blanket. She knew that she should go back to her room, but it just seemed so far, her legs protesting at the thought of moving an inch. Besides, the blanket was big enough to cover the two of them without having to even touch each other, right?

Sliding under the furthest corner, she quickly curled into a ball, eyes drifting shut before her head even touched the carpet.

:.

Waking in the morning, Y/N nuzzled further into the broad arms wrapped around her, sighing as she breathed in the stale scent of cologne and whisky. Her head pounding as she tried to recall the events of the night before that had led to her in a man’s arms. She startled, bolting upright as she remembered the drunkard who had stumbled through her door. And now she was in his arms. Fuck.

Seeing the man afresh with sober eyes, Y/N stopped to appreciate that he was actually really fucking attractive. It didn’t excuse him trying to break into her flat, but it helped, now knowing she’d cuddled him all night. God, that was embarrassing. How was she ever supposed to explain to the guy on the floor or Marlene what had happened. Slipping out from under the blanket, she tiptoed into the kitchen and slumped against the counter.

Coffee, she needed coffee. Then she could think about what had happened and how to sort out the man passed out in the living room.

Y/N filled the kettle up and spooned out the coffee granules into the cafetiere, frowning when her hand came into contact with air rather than her favourite mug. Fuck. It was still dirty from last night, probably abandoned on the table with her textbooks.

Meanwhile, Sirius groaned as he twisted under his covers. God, his head was aching, and his back was incredibly sore. Remus was going to kill him if he’d pulled a muscle; he was meant to be helping him move on the weekend. His mattress was uncomfortably lumpy; he knew he needed to get a new one, but he’d been putting it off. The bobbly fabric scratched his skin as he stretched out, flexing his fingers.

Hang on. Bobbly fabric?

Sirius cracked an eye open, flinching at the bright light. As his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight streaming in, his heart rate picked up. This was not his apartment. He was pretty sure they didn’t have such awful, tasselled cushions or green lace curtains.

Did he-? He glanced down, releasing a sigh of relief when he noticed he was still fully dressed. Okay, so not that drunk. So how the hell did he end up here?

“Here.” A girl stood in the doorway, an unimpressed expression on her face as she offered him a steaming mug of black coffee. “I didn’t know how you liked it, but I have milk and sugar if you need.”

Sirius nodded, still trying to process how he’d got here. She stared at him, waiting for something. He quickly backtracked the conversation in his head. “Oh, no, I’m good, thanks.”

He sipped at the scalding liquid, face contorting into an expression of pain as it scorched his tongue. His eyes trailed over the girl, surely he’d remember someone this gorgeous. “So,” he winced, “how did I get here?”

She pursed her lips, as if she’d tasted something sour. Okay so that had been a bad question to ask.

“You barged into my apartment, claiming it was yours, threw up on my doorstep and then passed out.”

Oh fuck. His head spun as it tried to remember the events of the night before. He did recall somewhat throwing up, but it was a blurry flash. “Sorry about that.”

She hmphed, stacking some scattered sheets on the small coffee table and collecting up dirty crockery. Sirius swallowed the coffee, grimacing at the awkward atmosphere. Funnily enough his parents had never bothered to teach him the etiquette for accidentally bursting into the wrong flat and passing out.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out, glad he didn’t have to feel the pressure of breaking the silence anymore.

JAMES: Where are u?

JAMES: When I said don’t bring a girl back I didn’t mean go back to hers

JAMES: Ur boss called. I said you were feeling under the weather. He said u should get over ur hangover & get into work

REMUS: Why did ur boss call me to ask if we went out last night? I said no btw

JAMES: He called again; said he’d fire you if you didn’t turn up before 11. I told him u were properly ill and I could send him a pic of the thermometer. I think I got you out of that one

JAMES: Mate, I’m getting a bit worried

Shit. When was that last one from? Okay, 11:15 and it was now 11:34. Sirius tapped out a reply to James, unsure how much detail to go into. I’m alright, be back soon. Yeah, that would do. He really couldn’t deal the endless mocking yet, once they’d found out what had happened they’d never let it go. So that would be saved for when the pounding headache had finally settled down.

His phone binged again. JAMES: We’re out of milk can you grab some on the way back?

Sure.

Sirius got to his feet, groaning as the room spun, beige walls all blurring into one. Rubbing at his face, he stumbled towards the kitchen, empty mug in hand.

“Hey, sorry, I don’t know your name.” He leant against the door frame, body sagging. God he was exhausted.

“Y/N.” Her tone was bitter, and Sirius couldn’t help the pang of guilt shooting through him. She’d probably stayed up all night worried he’d attack her or steal something.

“Well, thanks for the coffee, Y/N, and for not leaving me on the doorstep. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

He placed the mug down on the counter and slung his leather jacket on. She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes.

Y/N trailed him to the door, holding onto it as he stepped out, raising a hand goodbye.

“Bye.”

“Thanks, bye.” Sirius watched the chipped door swing shut, sunlight glinting gold off the battered number on the door. Hm, Number 51.

:.

Y/N groaned as the doorbell went. She’d just got settled into her studying. “Marlene, did you order something?”

“No. I’m broke.” Marlene yelled back, sticking her head out of her room. Her makeup was half done, mascara brush in hand and dress round her hips. “I can’t answer it like this!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’m on it.”

She tipped the papers onto the floor, ignoring the mess they made. Future her could tidy that up. Trudging to the door, she grabbed her phone off the table. So that was where she’d left it.

“Hi,” she nodded at the delivery guy. He was holding a large bunch of flowers and Y/N bit back a sigh her eyes. Probably from another of Marlene’s boys. Honestly, she was thinking of opening up a flower shop, considering the amount of flowers Marlene’s newest was insisting on sending.

“Hi, I’m looking for,” the delivery guy scanned the list on his clipboard, “Y/N?”

She froze. Huh. “Yeah, that’s me.”

He tucked the clipboard under his arm, passing her the flowers. “These are for you. There’s a card with it.”

“Thanks.”

Y/N shut the door, staring at the bunch of vivid blooms in confusion. Who on earth would have sent her these? She racked her brains for any possible romance in her life, but nothing came to mind. With her luck, it was probably her grandma or something. Not that she’d be upset by flowers from her nan but a mystery lover was much more interesting.

She pulled out the gilded card from where it was tucked into the side of the paper, scanning the words.

Sorry for breaking in and passing out in your flat, princess. Text me if you want to go for drinks at some point: +44 7xxx xxxxxx

A smile broke across her face. Maybe she’d take him up on his offer.

-

-

all hp tags: @missmulti @acciotwinz @1marvelavengers1 @samnblack @neymarlionelmessi7 @okkulta  @gredandforge @onestela@yourenotafailureoverall  @milkshakelol

sirius black tags: @holybatflapexpert @methamphetaminee @thefernandasantana @uglipotata72829 @cheapglitter @lozzybowe @persephonehemingway @blisfvlll @mads-bri @fific7 @electrasworld666 @ccosmic-illusion @anniewhoiam @20coldhearts @imcreepininyourheartbabe @whointhehellisbucky @isntmadrid @blackblossomqueen @wheezyreads @tugabooos @atomic-chickenwings @its-evita-here @inkandpen22 @Rue-123  @emilianamason @mesmerisedalien

[regrettablewritings]

💌💟💙 for Honey Lemon plz??

(Pictured below: Honey Lemon presenting her s/o to a Hiro who’s being both supportive but also unsure of how to react)

💌 (Who is more likely to send cutesy texts to the other?):

“Cutesy” is Honey’s middle name! ...Or maybe it’s her first name. Last name??

Whatever the case, the point stands about as tall and bright as the young lady does herself. Honey is a pretty busy person at the end of the day and even though she tries her best to make sure there’s time for you, sending you cute little messages is just an extra way to assure you don’t feel so left out of her life. Even during exam weeks when she’s basically living on SFIT’s campus, you can count on your girlfriend to find the time to send you a pic or two with a caption so corny yet adorable that you can’t help but fawn over her more than you already did.

You could be in the middle of class when you feel your phone vibrate, its screen coming to life with snapshots of the lab and the hijinks that were currently ensuing there. Notifications for videos or Stories ding while you’re out grabbing groceries.

Bubbly texts that read “You vs This Cream Puff: Who is the Yummiest? >:3″ --

Wait. You glance up from your phone to look at the sender, sitting before you, not even bothering to hide her sheepish smile.

“Honey, I’m right here!” you exclaim. The cream puff hadn’t even had a bite taken out of it yet.

“I know, I know,” she admits. “I just wanted to rile you up a bit.” Well, mission accomplished. Besides, you both already know the answer to who the yummiest one was. You screenshot the message anyway, for safe keeping.

💟 (Who spends time reading their zodiac compatibilities?):

You feel bad for it, but you just can’t help it: Personality-oriented things just fascinate you! You honestly had to sort of hide it at the beginning of your relationship, marking it as a guilty pleasure. After all, how bad would it look in the eyes of your more science-driven girlfriend if she learned that you enjoyed the concept of consulting the stars on personal matters? Pretty freaking bad, you’d imagine.

Sure, her field of science was chemistry rather than astronomy but the point still stood: The placement of stars realistically couldn’t have any bearing on a person’s fate, let alone characteristics. Balls of gas light years away were indifferent to the affairs of sentient beings.

. . . But still, you liked knowing what people thought about y’all as a couple, stars or what.

You had to honestly keep the books you bought hidden, magazine clippings stored away, and apps and webpages tucked in folders for a while. But of course, you forgot to do one last thing: Turn off the notifications for the Co-Star app. And, of freaking course, the one time your phone dings with said notification is the one time it took for Honey to see it.

You were beyond thankful that she didn’t take it as an opportunity to lecture you on the ridiculousness of certain pseudo-sciences and blahblahblah. Really, though, you probably should’ve expected that: Honey might’ve been a voice of reason a lot of the time but she wasn’t one to mock somebody, let alone her own significant other. 

And that’s when it hit you: You really didn’t need the stars to tell you if you two were going to be happy together. Just the fact that she was so easily able to move on from the app to hold you hand and tell you about the new art project she was going to try out? That was enough to tell you that you were going to be fine. No matter what planet was in retrograde or whatever.

Though weeks after the fact, Honey will jokingly chalk up something you did or said as you “being such a (insert your sign).” She’s such a Sagittarius.

💙 (Who is more protective?):

Despite being a hero with an awareness of how crazy the city can get, Honey actually isn’t all that worried about you. Don’t take it wrong and assume she’s indifferent -- she just knows you can handle yourself and also know how to keep out of certain areas and situations that might wind up going sideways. And in the event you find yourself in a minor one? She’s equipped you with mini-weapons to use as protection.

After she revealed to you her heroine alter ego, you admittedly were nervous. However, that only lasted for a brief amount of time: She’d been pretty good at staying out of harm’s way and holding her own up until that point, and you knew her friends would have her back.

But when it comes to more down-to-earth problems like catcallers? You tend to be a bit more feisty. Honey is perhaps too sweet for her own good. Yeah, she can pack a punch when properly equipped, but she could also get a little shy in the face of creeps when they put their eyes on her. You weren’t necessarily a fighter, but you sure could yell. A lot. Like, enough to throw somebody off. But also enough to make Honey blush and frantically try to remove you from the situation.

It’s not really in Honey to scold you, but she’ll definitely voice how you probably shouldn’t have done that.

. . . And then give you a “thank you” kiss on the forehead to at least translate to you that your efforts weren’t unappreciated, however unorthodox as they might’ve been from her point of view.

Thank you for your patience!!

[ask-jokeboi]

The Party

Hope everyone's having a great holiday season so far! This time of year isn't always easy but thankfully friends and a good distraction can make things easier. 

I drew these pic’s to pair with a moderately long fic I wrote to follow up the aforementioned party from earlier, it’s below the the cut! Read it if you want! Either way, Happy Holidays! 💜💚💛

Words: 4,142    Relationships: Harlivy /Harley & Joker friendship / Batjokes (mentioned)     Universe: Mine / Lego Batman

A/N: sorry for any typos or weird grammatical stuff, I'm good at art, not writing

Summary: Joker’s felt a little down since Batman’s been out of town, will his best friend Harley be able to cheer him up?

Warnings: Alcohol use, implied depression

_____________________

"C'mon Jay it'll be be fun!" Cheered Harley, mustering all the enthusiasm she could in an attempt to persuade Gotham's former clown prince of crime to pull himself together 

"I don't care!…. Go bother your girlfriend or something. Leave me alone…" He was currently piled under several layers of blankets, sunk deep into the ball pit he called a bed

"Nuh uh, I'm not haulin' my butt outta this room 'till you haul yours. You can stay in that pit and cry all ya like, but it won't fix nothin', you gott-"

"I don't GOTTA do anything!" Jay snapped. Throwing his blanket aside and revealing his less than kempt appearance, his face twisted into a frustrated glare

Harley, already familiar with Jay's usual harmless outbursts only sighed as she looked her long time friend up and down, taking in his surroundings with a curious eye

It'd been a month or two since Batman left the scene and his absence was definitely beginning to take a toll on the poor clown.

She could tell it'd been a while since he'd done anything to care for himself…. His hair, which was usually swept back into a flawless green pomp, lazily draped his face. The dull forest black of his roots beginning to seep back into the rest of it. Same could be said for the state his room which, due to his erratic nature, was always a bit untidy  but had recently fallen into a state of near disrepair. Bags of half eaten junk food and empty bottles of all sorts of things lay strewn across the floor, particularly around his half deflated bed.

Despite the mess, he still seemed a little...thin… more so than usual to be honest… his ribs visible beneath the loose shirt he wore, arms comparable to sticks despite the muscle.

most of all though, he just seemed... tired. Jay always looked tired out of makeup. It was one of the first things she'd managed to take note of when he'd first entered her office years ago…. But right now the purple rings beneath his eyes that never seemed to go away were deepened to a point that made it clear he wasn't getting much sleep or doing much for himself in general...

Seeing her best friend in a state like this was hard to witness… and although her partner, Ivy, didn't have much but mild disdain for Jay, Harley couldn't find it in herself to leave him like this… which is why she thought a party might lift his spirits a little 

"C'mooon! You love parties!! It'll just be a small one anyway!" It was actually much bigger than she was implying but Jay liked big and she didn't wanna scare him off too soon… 

"Yeah, like that'll make things any better… who did you even invite?? A good half of the rogues don't even like me…"

"Sure they do!"

Jay only looked at her, bereft and unimpressed. 

"I mean ok you and Riddler don't always get along and it took a lot a beggin' ta get ya un-banned from the iceberg lounge but still!!"

"Uhg whatever! It doesn't matter! I don't need those bozos seein' me like this anyway..."

"Like what?" 

"I don't know!  I'm just…... I'm not in the right… mood for something like that right now.... You know how this works… they'd see right through me. "

Back when Jay was still her patient they'd end up talking a lot about masks…Batman's would come up more often than not but every now and then he'd end up discussing his own…. Or more specifically, the metaphorical one he'd put on every time he picked up a brush and painted himself a new face…..

"Jay, sweetie…  you don't have to pretend to be okay… they won't think you're weak or nothin', you know that right?..."

Jay gave her an incredibly tired look before turning away.

"What happened to the Jay that wasn't afraid to let people know how he's feelin' huh? The one that turned every emotion into a show….?"

He kept his head down, shoulders stiff, before speaking...

"....Cause I'm not just sad this time…. " As he looked up slowly an emotion that was rarely seen on the mans face showed itself, flooding his eyes. 

"W- when I'd talked to Robin and Batgirl that last time and asked about Batman they gave each other this look and…. Something's wrong… he's in trouble or something I… I can feel it…..  W-what if he doesn't come back and he leaves me here all alone an-" 

Harley put a polished nail up to Jay's lips and smiled warmly.

"Shhhh…. You're worryin' too much puds… ur big dumb brain is just an overdramatic liar… don't listen to it okay?" 

Jay sniffled, giving her an understanding nod.

"You still got me an' your crew an' Bud and all the other little silly things that make ya days good doncha?"

He smiles halfheartedly. "Y-yeah…. But still… he was..."

"I know… he's special….but do you seriously think anything out there could actually kill Batman? THE Batman? C'mon now….  He's luckier than any bastard out there and you know it…"

"Yeah…. Yeah I guess ur right"

"Of COURSE I'm right!… now come on…" she offers her hand and helps her friend stand up. "Let's get that hair done and those nails shined up  so you're brain can take a break from making all those nasty thoughts" 

Jay smiled a little wider this time, forever grateful he had a friend as great as Harley around… he really didn't know what he'd do without her sometimes...

"Right…. Also… uh…. Harley?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for….uh…. Bein'... around… I guess…" Jay practically mumbled...

Harley smiled knowingly, amused with his poor attempt of gratitude

"No problem, Pud's….." she gave him a peck on the forehead leaving a black smudge behind 

"now enough mush...Let's clean this mess and get ya fabbed up"

________________

A few hours later, Jay stood outside the titular iceberg lounge in his best winter fit, a long boa around his shoulders and a pair of unnecessary sunglasses obscuring the mascara he'd only half ruined on the way there…. 

He truly, honestly, did not feel like socializing with anyone at the moment, but who was he to refuse a doctor's orders?....

Taking a deep breath of the cold winter air, Jay stiffened up, smoothed the wrinkles from his vintage memphis style sweater and entered the lounge, heels high and head high as he could manage 

____________

When the doors swung open with a swirl of winter snow, Jay was greeted by a surprisingly full and stunningly silent room. Christmas music cut through the tension like a knife as everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to Joker's fashionably late arrival.

He didn't know if it was because of his natural ability to demand attention or the fact that he hadn't been seen in nearly 3 weeks, but for some reason the room seemed slightly on edge. worried he'd come with another Joker brand surprise perhaps. Thankfully, Harley, who'd left his place a little earlier to get everything ready, noticed who'd finally arrived.

"JJ!! YOU MADE IT!!" she leaped off her stool and came running to grab him, The rest of the room taking it as a cue to un-tense and to go back to their festivities, the lounge lighting up  with warm greetings and laughter.

" Hey…" said Jay as Harley put an arm around his shoulder and escorted him to the booth she was sitting at….  

"So… is all of this for me or…?"

"No, did she tell you that?" Ivy who was sitting at the booth with his other less than fond acquaintance, Catwoman and someone else he didn't seem to recognize, gave a snide smile, Jay suddenly felt he should probably sit someplace else

"IVY!! SHHH" Harley shushed

"What? He was gonna find out out eventually…. It was supposed to be Penguin's annual winter ball" 

"Uh,It still is tho…?" said Kat, mouth full of shrimp 

"Well, yah…. Difference is we had to 'finesse' Penguin into letting HIM in" Ivy explained, disdain in her voice

"And you... helped with that?..." asked Jay, surprised. Ivy sighed

"for Harley's sake, yes. not yours" 

Jay smiled, amused. "well how charitable of you, here's to hoping you won't regret it"

Ivy rolled her eyes. "As if I don't already" she said, taking a short sip from her drink, Harley sitting down next to her give her thank u peck on the cheek.

"Hey, why'd you get banned from this dump anyway?" Asked Kat, eyes squinting curiously 

"I have no idea…." Jay shrugged 

"He put a coke and mento bomb in the fountain!" Harley interrupted 

"Oh yeah…." He'd totally forgot

"Ha! Awesome…" 

"Right uh, anyway, who the hell are you?" Jays attention suddenly turned to the woman sitting opposite of kat. She had light blue skin, bright white eyes and hair that made her look like a human lighting rod.

"Name's Livewire." She said, voice sharp as her appearance 

"She's from Metropolis" explained Ivy. Jay rose a brow.

"Metropolis huh?? How'dya like dealin' with boy scout full time over there?" He quizzed 

"Sweet!…" she exclaimed enthusiastically "Big blue aint got a thing on me! 'sides, dweeb's been outta town for months now! metropolis might as well be my personal playground"

The mentioning of Superman's absence made something in Jay's chest twist. He'd known their neighbor hero had been MIA for even longer than Batman, Supergirl taking over the workload just like Batgirl had in Gotham. but still… the reminder was enough to worry him. I mean… if superman was taking so much time up there, what chance did Batman have against whatever it was they were so busy with??

Trying his best to shake off the uneasiness building in his stomach Jay took a breath and snapped back to reality, offering Livewire his hand

"Well, uh... Livewire, i'm this city's head honcho while the bat's gone so welcome to Gotham and try not to wear it out" 

Harley and Ivy exchanged looks as Jay smiled slyly and took Livewires hand…

...Only for his usual gesture of hospitality to be met with an equally shocking grip that sent blue sparks flying in every direction.

"DAMN, what the- !! " Jay yanked his hand back and held it in pain, hot needles running up his arm.The new addition to Harley's crew laughed crudely and smiled

 "why do you think they call me 'LIVEWIRE' genius?" 

Jay stayed silent with defeat as the table went up in hysterics "Yeah fine, okay, I shoulda saw that one coming" he sighed and smoothed out his hair which had sprung up to stand on end, his face ever so slightly red "anyway, you ladies have a nice time… i'll set up shop somewhere else and let you guys… idk… flirt with each other or whatever..." without much fanfare he slunk off to sit someplace else.

After the table had settled down completely though, Harley noticed Jay making his way to the bar looking somewhat dejected.

"Aw Jay…." 

The rest curiously turned their attention to the direction of Harley's gaze.

"You're not going after him are you?" Asked Ivy after a beat.

"Well… yeah…?" Harley shrugged.

"Uhm, why?" Asked kat, dipping more shrimp into her cocktail "like if he's not in the mood for a joke that's kinda his problem…?"

"Yeah, but still…. I've never seen 'im like this for so long…. He's usually so funny and animated, it's like somethin' drained all the life out of 'im…." The concern on Harley's face was very apparent. Ivy brushed back a few strands of her hair and tried her best to reassure her.

"Look i'm sure he'll get his second wind when Batman comes back at some point… but ‘til then it's not your job to take care of him…" 

Harley sighed silently. "I know but… he's still my best friend… and if I hadn't met him, I wouldn'ta met you!" She squished close to her spouse with a smile, Ivy suddenly unable to hold back a small one herself.

"He helped me outta my slump all those years ago, least I can do is help 'im outta his..."

Ivy gave her a soft look before reluctantly caving "Kindness has always been your best and worst trait, silly bee…" she said with a smirk "fine, go ahead and do your thing, I've got plenty of company over here in the meantime…"

Harley smiled happily and gave her one last kiss before running off to join Jay at the bar.

____________

Jay sat alone at the bar in silence until he was suddenly startled by Harley's arrival.

 "What's shakin' grumpy gills?" She asked pulling up a stool.

Jay didn't answer as the bartender slid over a funfetti martini topped with the works, Jay lazily catching it and drinking deeply.

"Those guys didn't get ta ya did they? I know they seem mean bu- "

"Ah… I don't care about them…" said Jay dismissively  "we're all villains here right? I'm sure they got their reasons… sides, Livewire's pretty fun even if she did fry my Joy buzzer" He said regretfully…

"So what's up then…?" Asked Harley, head tilted 

Jay looked down at the table with a frown, fingers anxiously scraping the side of the glass in his hand….

"What she'd said about metropolis…. And… superman…."

"Oh…"  Harley nodded "well…. I'm sure they're together wherever they are…. Right? Him and Batman? And I mean, with Superman around, he's bound to be okay….." 

Jay had a hard time matching her enthusiasm but that logic did comfort him some. "Yeah… yeah I guess so"

"C'mon Jay, you gotta get that stuff off your mind for a minute! Go mingle! Go dance!… look at everyone who came this time! Turn-out's never been so big!"

As Jay's looked around the room, Harley did have a point, usually these get-togethers only managed to scrounge up about half the gang, but it looked like almost all the rogues in town had come this time. Even D-listers like Polkadot man, Killer Moth, Crazy Quilt ect. Had managed to show up, plus people he didn't seem to recognize…

For example at the bar sat Scarecrow and a… Oddly scruffy looking man he looked to be sharing a drink with. He'd heard from Riddler over the phone some time ago that crow had found himself a friend and that the two were "in cahoots".  whatever that was supposed to mean. He supposed that must've been the "friend" in question…

A few tables down sat another unfamiliar  in a polkadot shirt and a pair of cracked thick lensed glasses. He had a peculiar looking puppet sitting on his lap which made J raise a brow, but he didn't judge. Looking at his woefully nervous face he guessed it must it must've been a security thing anyway… 

Despite the big crowd though, Jay did notice one person missing of whom he hadn't seen in quite a while...

"Yeah I guess everyone is here...  except uh, Lex I guess…?" Jay considered himself friends with metropolises king of corruption, even if the feeling wasn't always mutual. Seeing so many crooks he knew in one place made him realize how rare it was to see the mal hearted mogul at these things.

Unfortunately, Harley could only shrug with defeat. "Ah I tried to get Lex but you know how he is… nobody's seen that shut in for ages".

Jay's eyes narrowed at that "How long is ages…. ?" He pressed

"I dunno… a few months guess???  Livewire said he's been quiet lately, probably off in one of his labs making some over convoluted instrument of destruction I guess"

The growing list of missing big shots was beginning to piece something together in Jay's head… what on earth was Lex up to? Where was superman?? Why did the league need Batman's help? How did it all connect?? After a moment Harley noticed Jay slipping into his thoughts again and shook his shoulder lightly to pull him out of it.

"Hey, don't worry about that egghead. he'd only kill the mood if he were here anyway" 

Jay couldn't disagree, the billionaire was kind of notorious for being a giant stick in the mud.

"If you're really worried about what's goin' on with those guys, you can come up with a plan Tomorrow…. right now we got a' open dance floor, unlimited drinks and a Karaoke competition that's about ta kick off in ten"

The word 'Karaoke' was enough to snap Jay back to reality. "Did you say Karaoke?" 

"Yes, I did."

"Do they hav-"

"Yes, they have Queen" 

Jay nearly looked as if someone had told him the best news of his life. "Oh thank god" maybe Harley was right. Worrying would have to wait. 

_____________

The rest of the night went on with few hang ups. Drinks poured, music played and poorly screeched lyrics kept the mood upbeat.

The Karaoke stage hosted performance after performance, some more enthusiastic than others. Some painful, others surprisingly pleasant. Jay's teetered off the edge of both categories, but when "somebody to love" burst through those speakers, he'd sung it with his whole chest. The best performance by a long shot though had to be Ivy's who's affinity for 50's ballads lent to her beautifully rich voice and her's was closely followed by the Dent's who'd decided to attempt a duet with no chorus which everyone found somewhat impressive.

Emotions did flare up once or twice though, as they tend to do when it comes to villain gatherings. Ed and Jay got into a fight about something stupid and unimportant, both obviously enjoying themselves, Bane and Croc engaged in an arm wrestle that woefully ended in a tie, and Jay inevitably got worked up about Batman again, this time with a crowd of eager listeners somewhat entertained by his rambling, giving questionable advice here and there.

At the get-together's height, the dance floor had filled to the point where Penguin was just about ready to call the whole event off until Riddler dragged him on to the floor himself.

After another hour or so the party wound down some more and the night devolved into quiet discussions between friends, everyone either ready to leave or half asleep. Eventually Jay and Two-face of all people were left alone. Once Ed, Crow, Hatter and the rest had gone home.

Jay always liked Harv, for someone known for his temper he seemed to have a lot of patience and Jay found both of his selves uniquely interesting in their own ways. Harvey the "handsome" one was always very nice, easily flustered, and had a sadness in his eyes that was hard to ignore. "Dent", the one famous for all those 2 themed crimes, was a bold individual and one of the most brutally honest people he knew. That night though, even he seemed a little sad. He admitted later that it was because it'd been a while since he'd gotten to talk to his old pal Bruce, someone Jay was mildly familiar with of course, and they spent the rest of the night discussing Batman and wayne and how they seemed so similar until it really was time to head home. 

 sometime after midnight, long after everyone had either left or found someplace to pass out, Harley broke up with her girl gang again to come get Jay who'd fallen asleep in an empty booth.

"Wake up clown" she said loudly, nudging him a bit. Jay giggled quietly in response, turning over after a moment and opening his eyes.

"Oohh what's up??"

"Time to go." 

"Aw…" Jay huffed disappointedly, then did his best to sit up straight, his head slowly spinning as he did so "ah jeeze…"

"Don't worry I called one of your guys, he's waiting outside." She explained "I dragged you here, might as well drag you home" 

"You did that for me?" Jay smiled "That's so nice…."

"Mhm" carefully, she took his hand got him to his feet, doing her best to keep him up straight. As they headed out they met up with Ivy at the door

"Taking pennywise home?" She asked 

"It'll only take a minute" Harley assured 

"Alright… don't take too long…" she turned to leave but before she could, Jay suddenly spoke up.

"H-hey, Wait!" 

Ivy turned around, brow raised "You have something to say to me?"

"Uh… yeah? I mean… sort of? I just, uh… wanted to say i'm sorry for…  messing up your garden all those times…." 

Ivy blinked "Why are you telling me this now?"

"I just thought you shud kno….  And that um…. Maybe you'd hate me…. A little less... if I said sorry for once..." the frown on Jays face was absolutely pitiful, Ivy could only roll her eyes.

"I don't hate you… Joker"

"Oh?"

"I just think you're annoying…."

"Oh…." Jay couldn't really tell if that was any better but at the moment he was too drunk to care. "Okay…"

With that ivy turned around to join Kat and Livewire

"Thanks for the apology though I suppose…Take care of yourself…. And, Harley don't take too long… it's only 1:00am we still have plans."

"Don't worry Ive's  i'll catch up." 

after one last look, Ivy went back on her way and Harley continued walking J to his car.

As they went Jay hummed to himself, swaying slightly, until a certain thought made him go quiet again.

"....Harley….?" He asked suddenly.

"Yeah, J?"

"Am I a bad friend?" The question just as out of the blue as his apology to Ivy…. 

Harley looked at him, concerned "Why do ya ask?"

"I just…. Please?" He pleaded. Harley hesitated for a long moment but decided being honest was probably best.

" not exactly but… maybe sometimes"

"Hm…" Jay decided he'd have to work on that

"But I also know ya don't really wanna hurt anybody…. That you try your best everyday ta make people happy and that you've been through just as much any of us….  A few mean comments an' dumb pranks ain't gonna make anybody think you're the devil or somethin'….not me or any of the other guys... "

Jay had to smile at that, Harley always had something smart or nice to say no matter what. still, her answer only made him feel worse about how he'd been earlier when she was just trying to help… he really, honestly, didn't deserve her…. But the least he could do was let her know he was glad to have her...

"Harley…?"

"Yeah, J…"

"Thanks for being really, really great all the time… and… y'know… around… " Harley smiled as she secured his arm around her shoulders. 

"Thanks J..." 

"also sorry for sucking sometimes..."

She sighed. "It's fine Jay…."

carefully, she hauled his ragdolling body a few more feet and shoved him into the back seat of his car. J grunting as his head hit the leather seat.

"Now go home an' try not to get lost on your way to the door" She said sternly. Jay gave her a lazy wink and a pair of wobbly finger guns.

"Gotcha." 

with that,Harley slammed the door shut and the J-Mobile's engine roared to life. One his lackeys sitting in the driver's seat.

"Where to boss? HQ?"

"Yup… ah, sorry t' call ya out so late…"

"S'alright boss…. Don't worry about it"

As the car lurched forward, street lights shining in through the windows as snow fell ever so lightly over Gotham like a dusting of fresh powdered sugar, Jay did inevitably start thinking about Batman again, wondering when he'd come back, desperately wishing he knew anything about where he was right now….

The thoughts were hard to ignore and when he got home he knew he'd be surrounded by the same walls he'd spent the last month trapped with them in….  even so, the world felt a little less washed out than it had before he left, and it wasn't just because of the alcohol swirling in his blood. 

He may not have had Batman... But today reminded him he wasn't alone.

He had friends… real friends… In a way he'd always considered them such… but deep down there was always doubt. I mean sure he got along better with some than others, but after knowing people so long he shouldn't have been so dumb to think they hated him as much as he thought they did. 

When you're a villain in Gotham sometimes all you have are other weirdos in the same boat as you to help keep you and everyone else afloat. People need people in more ways than one…  and as Jay drifted off to sleep in the back of his gaudy getaway vehicle, laying in a position that was just barely comfortable, he pushed his worries aside and made sure that was something he'd never let himself forget.

~ End ~

[musings-from-mars]

I absolutely need part 3 of this

Freelance Love Triangle AU - part 3

A lot could be said about Robyn Hill, managing publisher of Urban Valean. A lot of good could be said, that is. Blake had done work for a few other publications in the past, and the managers there were not as...receptive? Robyn wasn’t an asshole to her subordinates, which was a positive mark that she did not share with those in similar positions elsewhere.

Which is why when Blake went to her office with Cinder and Ruby to pitch their idea for a big feature in the next edition, she was confident Robyn would be onboard. And she wasn’t disappointed.

“This is the kinda shit I want, and you two always seem to step up,” Robyn praised Blake and Cinder after they finished their pitch. She then closed Ruby’s folder and handed it back to her. “And I think this is the perfect project for you, Ruby. We’re throwing you into the deep end, but I’m sure you can swim just fine.”

Ruby nodded. “Yes I can! I...” She blushed. “That was figurative and I answered like it wasn’t, I’ll shush now.”

I want. To kiss her? Blake thought. So bad???

Robyn chuckled, then stood to her feet and clapped her hands. “However! If I’m going to give you three a feature in the next issue, I’m going to keep close tabs on your progress. I want drafts upon drafts, I want a written outline on how you three plan to allocate, and I want finals on all the writings and photos well in advance of the deadline.” She grinned and shrugged. “High risk, high reward, right?”

“It’s hardly a risk, ma’am,” Cinder insisted with a confident nod. “We’re more than capable.”

Blake noticed that Cinder really wanted to say she was more than capable but wanted to sound more like a team player for Robyn. Blake was going to keep an eye on her...

“I like the confidence, Cinder, but I care about results, okay? Neither of you have done a collab like this before, and Ruby literally just got here. Prove me right before you tell me I’m right,” Robyn said, making eye contact with the three women each in quick succession. “Also, don’t call me ma’am.”

“Yes, Robyn,” Ruby said with a smile.

Robyn snapped her fingers and pointed at her. “I adore you. Now, get out there! Follow up with me next week, okay?”

~~~

First stop was the gallery downtown. It was a thirty minute walk from the office, but the three took it as a chance to talk and propose ideas. Cinder was already rambling about the gallery, the stuff she’d written about individual pieces and the overall layout. Again, it all sounded like fluff to Blake without info about the art itself, or the organizer, or the artists, but Cinder could probably sell shampoo to a bald person, just as she was selling her and Blake on the gallery.

“It sounds really cool!” Ruby admitted. She walked with a pep in her step down the sidewalk with them, always keeping a couple steps ahead of them as if she could only control her pace to a certain degree. She skipped and walked backwards and sideways whenever she wanted to talk to them, like a haphazard game of hop scotch. It was adorable, especially with how her skirt would twirl and flare with each turn and twist.

“It does,” Blake admitted, solely because she wanted to agree with Ruby. Ruby’s smile was a very agreeable one. Blake then blushed and glanced at Cinder, who gave her some smug side eye. “The gallery, I mean. The gallery sounds cool.”

Cinder rolled her eye and turned her gaze back to Ruby. “I already have ideas for some shots you could take, like the main entrance, this one bronze statue in the center of the gallery...”

Ruby grinned and nodded. “I can’t wait to see it. Gosh, I hope there’s enough room on my camera, I feel like I’ll get a little shutter happy.”

“Shutter happy?” Cinder asked with a chuckle.

“I take more pics than a need to, a lot,” Ruby admitted. “And then I forget to upload them, and then my camera fills up, and it’s always on the day I forget my laptop, or my USB cord...” She groaned and awkwardly took her backpack off while still walking backward-sideways. “Lemme double check that I have everything. My flat is near here so if I don’t, I can...” She then let her shoulder’s slouch. “My laptop is still in the microwave.”

“Your laptop is in your what?” Blake asked incredulously.

“I put it there so I don’t forget it!” Ruby explained defensively. “I always have these instant egg bowl things every morning, so every time I open my microwave to cook one, it’s there, that way I’m guaranteed not to forget it.”

“But you did forget it,” Cinder said, her voice almost taking a teasing tone.

“Because I was in a hurry this morning,” Ruby said. “I wanted to get to the office early, so I skipped breakfast and left my laptop in the microwave.”

“Well, at least you said your flat was nearby, right?” Blake asked, looking around at the nearby buildings. “Wanna stop by and grab it?”

Ruby nodded, turning away from them and looking around. “Yeah. I’ll be quick, okay?”

“There’s really no rush,” Cinder told her. “We have all evening—”

Before Cinder could finish her statement, Ruby was already running across the street. The traffic wasn’t super busy, but still, that was ill-advised. “H-Hey!” Blake called after Ruby. “Be careful!” Ruby didn’t seem to hear, though. At least she made it to the other side of the road, then entered a staircase that led up to a few apartments above a pizza shop/microbrewery.

Cinder scoffed. “Chaotic one, isn’t she?”

Blake turned and glared at her for a moment. “Cinder, tone it down, will you?”

“Tone what down?” She asked.

“Your thing for her is obvious,” Blake accused.

“Hm. Jealous much?”

Blake opened her mouth to deny it, then closed her mouth when she realized how obvious of a lie that would’ve been. She shook her head and huffed a scoff. “This is going to be a strictly professional collab, okay? If you make this too personal between you and Ruby, Robyn will pop a blood vessel.”

“You want her all to yourself, don’t you~?”

Blake made an awkward grunt, surprised at the insinuation. She could feel her face light up with heat. “That! That’s what I’m talking about. None of that.”

“You’re not denying it.”

“It makes no difference,” Blake told her, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “Listen, I’ll admit it. She’s cute, and funny, and...has a pretty smile, but none of that matters right now!” She shook her head and looked down at the sidewalk, crossing her arms. “We’re project partners, and that’s the extent of our relationship. For now.”

“‘For now,’” Cinder mocked with delight.

“I’m about to pop a blood vessel, too,” Blake grumbled.

[amerrierworld]

Curtain. (i)

Carol (2015) fanfiction 

Summary: An on-and-off job as photographer can only pay so much, so Therese Belivet has taken a job at an elementary school's art program to help pay the bills. One of her last jobs before the school year begins is photographing a preview night of a successful play where she meets the well-known artistic director of the show, Carol Ross. She forgets about their meeting until September rolls around and she starts teaching an inquisitive young six-year old by the name of Rindy.

Characters: Carol x Therese

Word Count: 1,491

Warnings: none yet!

June.

Therese was staring intensely at her laptop, watching as all the little photo icons from her camera began transferring over to her drive. Rain tapped gently against her windows and a can of Coke sat on her desk, half-empty. She had shut all the windows to avoid any light or outdoor distractions as she tended to daydream while looking out in the distance, but this time Therese was determined to get this job finished.

As she waited for the files to continue transferring, the brunette arched her back, yawning as her body creaked and popped from sitting for so long.

It had been three days since her lucky photography gig at the Hudson Theatre. Thinking about it still made her limbs jittery. It was a smaller theatre, but being the oldest theatre in the city and having hosted many successful shows, it was still a landmark. Therese had been overjoyed at the prospect of working inside the theatre for once and seeing all the ins and outs of the show she had been asked to document.

Her phone pinged from where she had haphazardly tossed it on her bed. She stood up and shuffled over, stretching again and giving her legs a shake as she opened a message from Dannie.

preview done. again.

how was it?

tbh a little messier than when u were there, richard kept missing his mark

of course he did.

yeah ross wasn't too pleased with him...

At the mention of the director's name, Therese's stomach lurched a bit, though she couldn't tell why. They had only exchanged a few words during the preview when she'd been there.

...anyways, manager wants to know how ur doing with those photos

workin on em right now actually

tsk that's too bad

why? did she need them now? i thought i had until next week

nah i was just gonna ask if u wanted to get some food and then get plastered w me and phil

Therese snorted and looked back at her laptop, which lit up, indicating all the files had been successfully imported. Temporarily forgetting about her conversation she hurried to glance through them, immediately noticing the faulty pics that she knew she wouldn't be able to use.

Her phone rang and she picked up.

"Is that a no?" Dannie asked from the other end. Therese rolled her eyes.

"Dannie, not responding in 30 seconds does not automatically mean no. But yeah, I don't know if getting drunk right now is such a good idea, I have a lot to go through. Plus, don't you have to work tomorrow?"

"Preview isn't until the afternoon, Belivet. I have all morning to sober up."

Sighing, Therese flicked through a few photos, stilling as she found one of the director whose back was to the camera as she directed Gen, the lead actress, who stood off to the far side of the stage.

"Therese?"

"Hm? Yeah, for sure. I'll come for food, but I'm going home afterwards, I really don't want to be hungover. I've had three cans of Coke already, alcohol and caffeine don't mix well for me."

"Alright, sounds good."

"When do you wanna head out?"

"...now?"

At that, the intercom buzzed at Therese's front door, indicating someone was in front of the apartment building.

"Jesus, Dannie, really?"

"I know you're always hungry, Therese. Plus, getting off the subway from work at your place is so much closer than mine. Forgive me?"

"Ugh fine, give me 20 minutes to get ready though. I don't care if you're stuck in the rain outside. That's what happens when you constantly drag me out for last minute plans."

"Yeah, yeah, Belivet, just hurry your ass up. We're not going anywhere fancy cause God knows I don't get paid enough to afford anything like that."

"Is Richard coming?" Therese asked, brow furrowing in a split second of worry.

"Him? Nah. I actually think he somehow managed to lure Gen into a date tonight. I saw them talking after the show."

"Oof, poor girl."

"Yeah, maybe I should warn her, y'know. Get her out while she still can."

"Terrible idea, McElroy. You know how actresses are with stage hands."

Dannie barked out a laugh. "Shut the fuck up, Belivet. You're one to talk, considering you were ogling the director the entire night."

"I was not."

"Yeah you were. Now get going, or I'm gonna melt in this downpour."

Therese smiled and ended the call, closing her laptop and hurrying to put on some decent clothes before meeting Dannie outside.

-

"C'mon Terry, not even one shot? As a celebratory drink for this job and the next."

"No, Phil," Therese laughed. "I already told Dannie, I have work to do later."

"Alright, suit yourself, but that means I'm gonna drink extra just to make up for you!"

After having grabbed a bite at a cheap Thai restaurant, the McElroy brothers had dragged Therese to their usual bar even though she was still determined to stay sober.

"Do you even know how to deal with kids, Therese? Elementary school can be vicious, y'know," Dannie said, sipping his beer as he ignored Phil stumbling from his seat to order another drink.

"It's only part-time, Dan," Therese shrugged. "Plus, what kid doesn't like art? If one of them throws a temper, I'll just let him go ham on a canvas with some paint, no big deal. It's therapeutic that way."

"How'd you manage to get a job there anyway?"

"Well, their usual art teacher had to take a break for a year 'cause of an injury, so I'm just filling in for the younger grades. They were desperate for more staff for their programs."

"Jeez, is that allowed? You've barely worked with kids until now."

"I dunno. I did a full police check and stuff, besides I'm not hired for the school, just the programs afterwards so I'm not technically a teacher. But it's a small school with a shit ton of younger kids that often need an after-school program. Chances are they won't even need me in the New Year if the other teacher comes back."

"So they just really need extra hands on deck?" Dannie concluded and Therese nodded. Phil came staggering back with a glass of water, grouchy and mumbling something about the bartender not letting him have another.

"Yeah. What about you though? What's happening after Woolf?"

Danni sighed and slumped back in his seat. "Who knows at this point? Ross is taking a break too, from being artistic director-,"

"Wait, really? She's not retiring is she?"

Dannie smirked at Therese but ignored her sudden eagerness in the conversation.

"Nah, just something about needing to be home with her family. She's worked her butt off for the theatre more than anyone, so it makes sense she wants a break for a little while after this show's done. But she'll probably be back in no time, cause she's like that. In the mean time, Gerhard is taking over. I don't know what she has up her sleeve yet, but I'm thinking a typical Christmas show is coming up."

"Any idea what it might be?"

"Nope. Everyone's talking and wanting to do A Christmas Carol but it's been so overdone, and Abby's always doing unexpected things."

"Damn, I wonder what it could be," Therese chewed her lip in thought.

"You sure you're not just upset at the idea of Ross not working there anymore?" Dannie teased. Therese smacked his arm.

"Dannie," she scolded.

"What! Even a blind person could see she's literal eye candy, though she can be a tough boss. I'm not blaming you for liking her, but I am telling you that she's not as sweet as she looks."

"Hmph, whatever. She's probably got someone anyways, if she's taking a break with family."

"I dunno, Belivet, I've never noticed a wedding ring." He winked at her.

"God, you're the worst y'know?" Therese sighed, though her eyes were twinkling. "I never should have come out to you when all you do is tease me about every girl who I just happen to find kinda cute."

Dannie grinned. "That's what you get for being besties with the McElroys, Belivet. Besides, since Phil doesn't like girls, who am I supposed to go to when I get lady problems?"

Therese shook her head and chuckled before checking her watch.

"Damn, it's getting late. Alright boys, I'm going home. I really need to work on those photos. Don't drink yourselves to death, please?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Belivet!"

She grabbed her purse before going to hail a cab as Phil and Dannie waved goodbye, her mind whirling with thoughts of the intriguing blonde director. Therese wondered who she was, besides the 'literal eye candy' that she'd managed to capture on camera. Sighing, Therese shook her from her mind during the brief cab ride home, deciding it was best to leave her daydreaming behind for the rest of the night.

A/N: heh... hi. here's my take on carol/therese because i can’t get enough of them honestly. Let me know what you think; this’ll be a pretty packed series so enjoy :3 

I’ve also been posting my stuff on AO3 if any of you use that as well so you can find this and my other stories there too! <3 

[ghostmartyr]

how a life can move from the darkness [11/?]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Summary: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their  living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn  found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery. Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

Ymir was going to be part of Eren’s life. He’d known for a while he didn’t have much of a choice in that. There wasn’t anything surprising about her coming to one of Zeke’s games. The surprise would be if she kept it at one. Ymir did what she wanted unless Historia told her not to, and according to Reiner what she wanted was to see Historia in a baseball uniform.

Eren didn’t need to know that, but he was getting used to all of it. He didn’t need Historia asking him five different times if Ymir meeting Armin and Mikasa was something he was okay with. No one had to hold his hand over them anymore. He had two of his own.

ymir’s showing at the game historia’s friend

               Is this the girl from juvie

why do you know that

                               Historia was in juvie??

               She watches Rivaille for me sometimes.                It came up.

                               Why was Historia in juvie??

from when she killed her dad

                               Oh. That makes sense                                Wait, I thought that was self defense sort of

               No.

                               ????

It was all fine, and the worst thing about any of it was still that he was going to one of Zeke’s baseball games. Which wasn’t even so bad with Armin, Mikasa, and Historia all there and whole. Petra had called it a ‘sterling improvement.’ Eren didn’t remind her of all the parts left to work on. Maybe she’d call that an improvement, too.

What wasn’t fine was jolting awake at four in the morning, music Eren didn’t recognize blasting from his phone while his head hit go on lunging out of bed into his nightstand.

Ankle caught in his sheets, Eren held the box of sensory destruction in his hands for full seconds before the ability to turn it off came back to him. Blinding puffs of white clouds parted, and he could swipe the brightness down to numbing without his ears bleeding.

A jumble of words waited on his brain to catch up. Sprouting like weeds.

yo Baseball Boy u have friends coming to this thing right ur ocean instagram hot tub scale bro and catgirl

The corner of his phone agreed. It was four in the morning.

It buzzed enthusiastically in his hand, helpful emoji arrows loading to point at empty image boxes. They were quickly filled by another Eren, kneeling in wet sand and unaware that Armin was expanding the subjects of his Instagram. Five different angles popped up.

who needs this many pics of a sea urchin was he trying to get the seashell ur on top of

Eren’s fingers moved slowly.

               why are you awake

Ymir did not respond with an answer.

how many hours do photoshoots like this take

Another shot loaded under the text, and it could have been the end of the world and Eren still would have recognized the picture from his last beach trip. Mikasa, magically captured in a moment of lifting him and Armin into the air. The unfair, unexpected moment in a day of clouds and uncooperative waves. Armin hadn’t seen it coming any more than Eren had, even though it was his picture. But he was the one beaming into the camera.

Eren hadn’t wanted to go. There was a tournament to prep for. Annie had been helping him. The cut on his cheek from her toe catching his face hadn’t even had a chance to heal. Captured in that one second Mikasa had lifted them up and Armin had thought to hold on to his phone, the mark was bright and red, flexing with his open mouth of outrage.

Mikasa was smiling too. She just wasn’t looking at the phone.

The top of the photo was cut off with a buzz.

u have a face under that hair… unreal […] u’d look prettier if u smiled

Eren untangled his foot from his bedding and flumped back on his pillow with his phone in hand.

               fuck off

do u kiss ur besties with those fingers am I gonna get to watch that @ the game

Irritation didn’t offer the same warmth as his comforter, but the kindling helped take off the morning chill. Eren scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand and scowled at the screen.

               you and historia need to stop asking about that                I’m fine

A minute passed. Long enough for a yawn to dim the adrenaline.

cool

Eren waited for the rest.

He woke up with the sun shining under his blinds, his phone inside his pillowcase, no new messages from Ymir, and one unread apology text from Historia sent at five in the morning. And a baseball game to go to.

----

“You sure you don’t want to play? You have the arms for it.”

Yelena sat in the corner of the dugout. Up straight, even though her hair caught in the splinters hooked in the ceiling. Smiling, because she did that. Giving Eren an entire bench of personal space he hadn’t asked for, because she did that too.

“I’m sure,” he said, taking the batting helmets out of Zeke’s bag and jamming them in their cubbies.

Yelena was the only other person in the dugout. She started better cold. According to her.

Mikasa and Historia were warming up in the outfield, Historia looking out at the bleachers every five seconds. Colt and Zeke were next to them. Throwing like Colt didn’t mind doing nothing else a thousand times over.

One of the helmets hit the shelf instead of its slot. Eren ignored the field and shoved it back into place. Armin was planning to be on time instead of an hour early, so he wasn’t around yet.

Yelena was smiling at Eren.

He didn’t like it.

“Zeke keeps a spare uniform on hand. Your roommate would have found trouble with the fit, but your proportions are more agreeable,” Yelena said. “He’d be happy to give it to you. Playing with his brother again would mean the world and more to him.”

The helmets were cheap plastic past the padding. Eren’s hands could crack them. Easily. Take Zeke’s toys and break them to see if that would make talking to Eren about feelings and what he wanted sound any better.

He’d done that by accident as a kid. It never worked. Whether or not it would now wasn’t a thought that had even settled when a new voice found its way into the shaded dirt. “What’s big brother have against the world?”

Like a grinning gargoyle, mocking and light, Ymir appeared, settling her arms on the dugout’s roof and leaning into Eren’s personal space. His reflection blinked at him from the mirrored rainbow sunglasses perched on her forehead.

It took several seconds before the reflection’s eyes shifted enough to catch the waving figure next to her. Armin, earlier than he ever was to these, because he never got enough sleep and had to catch up somewhere, smiled awkwardly, a good chunk of his body fully accosted by Ymir.

Something heavy and warm was threading into Eren’s chest, and it made it hard to look at either of them. “Aren’t those Reiner’s?” he asked.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?”

He put away the last helmet soundlessly. “You stole his sunglasses?”

“Since my last felony went so well,” Ymir said, hopping down and crushing a sunflower seed under the pointed dress shoes she’d decided to wear to a baseball game. “You should care more that I stole Instagram boy.”

She flipped off the glasses and planted them squarely on Eren’s head, bypassing every physical and verbal protest. Armin, standing out in the sunshine and looking happier than anyone should at one of these things, quietly drew out his phone and Eren rolled his eyes compliantly before the shutter noise sounded.

Yelena interrupted the moment.

“You’re new.”

Armin’s smile stiffened. Ymir’s hands made another knot in Eren’s hair, and she passed Yelena a bored look. “Yeah,” she said, “I suppose I am. You’d be?”

“Yelena,” said Yelena. A hand stuck out by Eren’s hip and hovered there with all the earnest politeness that never felt honest coming from her. She kept at it every time anyway. “It’s a pleasure to meet another one of Eren’s friends.”

“I’ll bet,” Ymir said. “You don’t look like someone who comes by that naturally.” There was a shark in those teeth. Eren hadn’t realized Yelena was bleeding in the water. “Don’t take it too personally; that brother of his doesn’t have apartment privileges either.”

Without another word, she grabbed Eren by his scalp and yanked him up the steps, disregarding his balance and safety and pulling him into the morning sunlight next to a staring Armin. Before she kept the movement going and pressed heavy hands on their backs and shoved them out of the backstop’s limits.

Failing on the rest, and making limited headway forcing Ymir out of his hair, Eren offered,“Good morning.”

Armin, eyes alight and stunned, said, “Good morning.”

Eren jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “This is Ymir.”

Armin nodded. “We met by the drinking fountain.”

Eren nodded.

Ymir continued pushing them towards the bleachers, scuffing line chalk all over their shoes, with only one telling stumble that set Armin free from her grip. Eren wasn’t so lucky, and it felt on purpose.

The pressure pushing him away from the dugout didn’t let up. Ymir had earned her rock climbing qualifications somewhere and it showed, but her entire head was aimed at the outfield, where Historia missed an easy lob by her head because her glove was down at her waist. Mikasa had to call her name several times before it took, and she jogged back to fetch the ball with a stumble that gave Mikasa time to look over to determine what was so distracting.

She found Eren first. In their oddly connected pile.

He pointed at Ymir.

Mikasa’s eyebrows rose. He shrugged.

Ymir stared, since that’s what she did when Historia was in orbit, and Historia kept moving while she stared back. Crossing near Zeke and Colt in the process. Where every third throw was a risk since Zeke was putting Colt through grounder paces. Colt wasn’t great with grounders. His little brother was. Eren was. That was half of little league.

Armin’s face popped in front of Eren and he almost jumped. “Ymir thought you’d like watching from the stands with us,” he said. “That’s not how she said it, but—do you want to?”

A floater landed softly in Colt’s glove, and Eren pulled his eyes away. “Sure,” he said, focusing on Armin and the warmth coming through Ymir’s hand on his back. On how easy it always was here.

“So Armin,” Ymir said into the quiet morning mist, “what was Eren like before he had hair?”

“Louder, mostly.”

“Hey.”

----

Watching from the bleachers wasn’t that different from watching from the dugout. There were still rooting for the same people. Nothing they did contributed to how it was going. It was still several hours of watching people stand in one spot waiting for a moment that might never come.

There wasn’t anything new to it.

“Cutter.”

“Not with this one. Fastball.”

“Zeke’s more strategic than that. No one else on their team has gotten a hit all day. He won’t risk that happening again in the final inning.”

“No one else getting a piece of him means he has something to prove.”

“Winning proves that better.”

Nothing new at all, except Armin wasn’t sitting with a bunch of people who didn’t care about how their genius pitcher won them the game. He was sitting next to Ymir, a bunch of twigs in the shape of a diamond resting etween them, small gouges in the splintered stands where they’d jabbed in larger sticks to make their points earlier.

“What do you think, Eren?” Ymir’s voice broke into his lazy contentment. “How much of a prideful prick is big brother?”

Eren looked over at the mound, where he hadn’t had to all game with the commentary running by his ears. Where Zeke stood as the king of his domain. Steady and calm to anyone who did think to look. “Fastball.”

Armin objected. “It’s the ninth inning, it doesn’t make any sense to—”

The pitch left Zeke’s hand. Straight as an arrow. Hammering into the catcher’s mitt. In three of the movies that had somehow survived their list purges, this was where the stadium would go silent before the crowd erupted in cheers.

They weren’t in a stadium, and there wasn’t a crowd.

Armin sighed, his careful placement of twigs slipping back down to the ground.

Ymir clucked her tongue. “You hate to see it.”

“They won,” Eren said, unhelpfully. Armin’s heavier sigh made the whole diamond shine brighter. Past tolerable. Put with Ymir’s rolling eyes and Mikasa jogging to the outfield to walk in with Historia, it hit somewhere closer to whatever Zeke saw whenever he stepped up to the mound.

Whatever it was that made showing up worth it. Eren had never understood as a kid, stuck in the bleachers with his grandparents. Finally being let into the dugout didn’t make it any better, even when it should have. Getting a taste when he was back to the bleachers while the teams shook hands wasn’t something he would have thought to look for.

The baseball part was still dumb.

Ymir’s elbow jabbed his ribs and pointed at Mikasa. “That’s the cat friend?”

Eren pushed her back into Armin’s section of bench. “We told you that was her when she got the grand slam.” All four runs on the board were thanks to Mikasa.  Armin had jumped to his feet to cheer for her. The guy walking his dog nearby knew who Mikasa was, and Ymir was paying more attention.

She didn’t snipe back. She dropped Reiner’s sunglasses on his head and kept staring out at the field. Historia had spent most of the game out of range. Every few shook hands she glanced over her shoulder, but Ymir didn’t so much as twitch at the extra attention. She was watching Mikasa. The hand she’d dropped to the bench was digging into the splintered edge.

She’d used that hand to text him at four in the morning.

“You’re nervous,” Eren said abruptly.

Ymir scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Eren looked at Armin for confirmation. Armin’s wide eyes darted between them, Ymir stubbornly staring at the back of Mikasa’s head as she hit the end of the line. After a stalled second that said everything, he shrugged diplomatically.

Eren spun back to Ymir. “You are.”

“Right, because meeting up with your friends really earned its spot on my dayplanner,” Ymir said, unclenching her fist enough to lean back on the next row of bleachers. It didn’t look as casual as she thought it did.

Armin tried to help. “Mikasa’s not that scary once you get to know her,” he said. “She’s amazing at everything, and that can intimidate some people, but—”

“I am not intimidated,” Ymir declared. “From everything you nerds have told me her cat’s scarier than she is.”

“Rivaille’s…” Armin’s defense fell short. “A rescue,” he said at last.

Eren picked his dropped thread back up. “If you’re not intimidated, what are you nervous about?”

“Are your ears broken?” Ymir said. “I’m not nervous.”

“You’re breaking the seats with your hand.”

She stole her sunglasses back and pointed them at him. “All that says is your brother should pick a better park to play at.”

“The league figures that out.”

“They’re walking over,” Armin said.

Eren and Ymir shut up. Ymir’s face had lost the shade of color Historia usually gave her, and maybe there was something wrong with that, but the only other time Eren had seen her in a social situation she wasn’t in control of, she’d started crying. Maybe she was just like this with new people.

Historia didn’t have the extra bounce Ymir usually gave her, either. But anything could take away Historia’s good mood, and Ymir was more like her everything.

Mikasa looked like Mikasa. She wasn’t someone to be nervous over.

“C’mon,” Eren said, wrenching Ymir’s arm out of the splinters. “Get up and say hi.”

Ymir flicked him off and tromped down the stands. Armin was biting back a smile. Eren held out a hand and swung him to his feet, following Ymir without helping her grow any of the cracks in the wood.

Like magnets, Historia fell into Ymir’s orbit instantly, and any of Mikasa’s intimidation factor that Ymir had made up evaporated. Ymir slid Reiner’s sunglasses down over her eyes and looked Historia and her haphazardly dusted uniform up and down.

The color came back, and Ymir coughed into her hand. “Shouldn’t have swung at that ball in the fifth,” she said.

Historia’s whole face twitched in exasperation. “I thought I could reach it.”

Ymir grinned and hooked a finger around one of her sleeves, pulling her close enough for Armin to carefully switch his gaze to Eren’s shoulder. “With these nubs?” she asked. “Has anyone tried to ship you off to little league yet?”

“She throws too hard.”

Mikasa’s quiet insertion drew all eyes to her.

Stable and calm, she wasn’t at all put off by Ymir, or Historia’s cleat digging into Ymir’s shoe. Which she noticed. And smiled at. She’d had worse. For as long as Eren had known her. If the shame didn’t steel out the words, he could have told Ymir that.

Ymir shot Eren a look, a leering smile mocking him. “I’ve heard that.” Then she switched back to Mikasa, and the person who manned an entire household she didn’t live in gleamed under her stolen sunglasses. She stuck out her hand.

“Ymir.”

Mikasa silently looked between Ymir and Historia’s proximity and Eren.

She took Ymir’s hand.

“Eren’s friend,” she said.

Ymir bristled, but next to her, Historia’s eyes did the sunburst thing Armin’s did. Those moments that wiped everything else away, because the world stopped and paid attention when it noticed someone with the brightness to change it was waking up.

They’d lived together for months. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her happy before.

Defensive tension leaked out of Ymir like a beach balloon. She saved the last of it for a pointed scowl in Eren’s direction before dropping out of the handshake and turning away from all of them. Stuttering somewhat when Historia’s hand quietly took up the residence Mikasa’s had been thrown from.

“I guess,” Ymir said shortly. “Your boy’s okay.”

Eren’s ears burned, and he glared at the backstop. Armin’s soft laugh and Mikasa’s audible smile did not make the burning go away. It just went other places and was even harder to ignore.

“Yeah, well. You’re… fine,” he said.

The brutal, heated silence of embarrassment continued. Everyone else didn’t mind. His eyes flicked up and made the mistake of catching Mikasa’s.

Affection spilled out freely from her. Genuine and familiar. Warmer than she’d been with him even before everything fell apart. She made the blood rushing to his head feel like it was allowed to be there, and maybe wasn’t ever going to leave.

Mikasa was fine too.

----

“Are you doing okay with all of that?”

There were questions Eren had learned to put up with. Questions from Reiner had been an early test of that. Strung out and on fire, he could break Reiner’s face open for talking at all, or suck it up and learn how to be human again.

Figuring out answers to the questions wasn’t the same thing.

“Huh?” Eren said.

They were outside Reiner’s house, waiting on Ymir. She’d gotten a text from Historia on her way to pick up her helmet and the world went on pause.

“With that,” Reiner said, pointing over his shoulder at the front door.

The front door stayed a front door.

“With what?” Eren asked blankly.

“With Ymir and Historia being a thing,” Reiner said. Before Eren could add another ‘what,’ the words kept going. Reiner was at his most earnest this morning, and he bridged the gap between their bikes with a creak of metal and sincerity that Eren didn’t want. “Third wheeling can be rough.”

Eren was a morning person. It was too early for this. He said, “I’m fine.”

Reiner’s open sympathy didn’t falter. Under the dark circles and the bunched tendons in his arms that still didn’t know how to relax, there was nothing but plain, unnecessary compassion. “I talked it over with Bert and Marcel, and everyone’s fine with you rooming here.”

Anything Eren could say or wanted to be confused by got lost in syrup and waffles and the inevitable. He unclamped his hands from his bicycle and rubbed away the red indents before they were visible to anyone but him. “I have a room.”

A nice room. With sheets that had made it through two homes he wasn’t going back to. He wasn’t going to volunteer a third. “And they wouldn’t just kick me out,” Eren added, a phantom of Ymir’s hand ruffling his hair.

Reiner held one of his elbows in a way Eren had etched into his head from Historia. “No,” he agreed. “They’re not like that. They’re too used to us to ask. But for guys like us, it’s hard not to help out.” His bike shifted under him. He didn’t lean in any closer, but the world around them closed. “Only guys like us don’t do well on our own.”

Eren stayed quiet. His tongue was fuzzy. The way it had been when he woke up in the hospital. He didn’t know why he’d decided to like that feeling.

“I just wanted you to know you don’t have to go backwards,” Reiner said after a moment or two. “That’s all.”

It wasn’t that cold, but the heat in Eren’s ears still stung more than anything. He stared squarely at the ground, where a pillbug was scrunching down the sidewalk. Petra and months of encouragement didn’t make the improvement feel good. Just necessary enough to be weird.

“Thanks,” he said.

Reiner clapped him on the back hard enough to leave marks on both of them.

[next]

[buckleysjareau]

you feel like the perfect escape now

"In the symbolic language of jewels, a sapphire in a wedding ring means marital happiness."

or

Eddie planning his proposal with the help of Hen and Karen. Featuring good ol' Buck and Chimney banter, soft and in love boyfriends, and tooth rotting fluff.

part two of three in my series ‘cause i’m not too far and you’re my favorite place on ao3

Eddie Diaz was never the type of guy to actually think about marriage. He’ll sound horrible saying it, but he didn’t really think about his marriage to Shannon. He loved her, he’s loved her since their third date when they were caught in the rain and instead of freaking out, she grabbed Eddie’s hand, dragged him out from the shelter and spun them around, head falling back in happy, care-free laughter. He loved her when she told him, with tears in her eyes, that she was pregnant. He loved her as she walked down the aisle with a grin on her face, carelessly happy. He loved her when she gave birth to their world.

But he never thought about it as it happened. When she’d told him she was pregnant, after he got over the initial excitement, his first thought was oh, we should probably get married now. Before that, it never occurred to him that he would ever marry Shannon, even though he loved her.

It was different with Buck.

Realizing he wants to marry Buck, not because he should but because it’s the only thing he can think of when he goes to sleep at night and when he wakes in the morning. He realizes the difference in the thought when it comes to planning his proposal to Buck and how he treated Shannon’s proposal.

He loved Shannon, but he was never in love with her. The thought sends an uncomfortable amount of guilt through him, but he hears Buck’s voice in his ear saying, you can’t help who you fall in love with.

Not exactly what he meant when he said it but it helped Eddie shake a lot of the guilt.

He was wholeheartedly, one-hundred percent, completely, utterly and stupidly in love with Evan Buckley.

The second it struck him how much he not just wanted, but needed to marry Buck, he couldn’t wait a second longer to start planning it. 

The first thing he has to do before he even starts planning anything, though, is ask Christopher if he would be okay with him marrying Buck. He knows his kid loved Buck more than life, but sometimes he’s scared that Chris will think that if he marries him, he’ll be replacing Shannon.

When it happens that Buck and his schedules don’t line up, he takes Christopher to lunch at his favorite place and asks. 

“Christopher, can I ask you a really important question?”

He giggles when his son looks up from his triple chocolate pancakes with whipped cream and chocolate already covering his mouth. “What is it, dad?”

“Abuela’s gonna kill me for letting you order all of this sugar.” He shakes his head as he smiles before he clears his throat. “You know how before Buck and I got together, I asked what you’d think about it?”

“I said I loved my Buck and got really excited.”

“That’s right! Well, Christopher, how would you feel if I asked your Buck to marry me?”

Chris’ smile grows immediately. “You’re gonna marry Bucky?”

“If that’s alright with you.” He smirks.

“Yes! Yes!” 

His heart soars. He was really going to ask Evan Buckley to marry him. 

After he texts Hen for her help and the twenty texts he receives of her freaking out in the language of keyboard smash, he tries to plan it. Keyword: tries.

From Hen;

Alright, alright diaz-buckley, how do you plan to do this

To Hen;

I have no clue!!! That’s why i asked for your help to research and what not. I’m not Buck, i’m not good at research or whatever

Also

*future diaz-buckley, we’re not married YET

From Hen;

boy... you’re in love in love huh

Your boy is sitting right across from me 

*photo attachment*

What’s he smiling at eddie?

To Hen;

Probably dog videos 

Now helllllppppppppppppp

From Hen;

You were right. A golden retriever looking at videos of golden retrievers

Patient, diaz! 

Got a call, we’ll talk later

To Hen;

Tell buck to be careful!

You too obviously

bu t you know what I mean 

He doesn’t know why he thought he could get anything done regarding the proposal through text. That’s how Hen and him were, they had never been able to stay on one conversation at a time when texting. There was one time when Hen had asked him for a recipe Buck wouldn’t give her, followed by a text about a playdate with Denny, and a text asking his high score in Candy Crush. He responded to say he’d ask him and send it and continued the conversation. Talk of playdates turned into talks of weirdest calls, talk of high scores in Candy Crush turned to talk of modern technology and so on. By the time Hen stopped responding, presumably because Karen got home, Eddie realized he’d never given her the recipe. 

It was different in person, they could sit for hours and talk about the same thing. He cherishes any conversation with Hen, though. He cherishes their friendship so much. Next to Buck, Hen was his best friend. 

That’s why he couldn’t think to ask anyone better to help him plan the next step in his life with the man that he loves.

From Hen;

Heads up, your boys in a sour mood 

Dont worry though because ik you are!

Im sure a nice cuddle from his soon to be fiance will do the trick

To Hen;

Why shouldnt I worry? An hour ago you sent me pic of him smiling 

Now hes in a bad mood? Something happened

Hennnnnnnnn tell me what happppppennnnnneddddd

What was the call

im bored and worried 

From Buck; 

Can I stay the night? Ill bring wine and chinese <22222

<4444

To Buck;

You okay there babe? Haha

You never have to ask 

Or bribe me with food and alcohol

But i will accept it <3

From Buck;

You know i hate texting don’t judge me!

See you in 10 love love love you <3

Eddie’s worried. Buck practically lived at the Diaz’s, he never had to ask to stay the night and he knew that. All Hen had sent back was the shrug emoji so he was on his own to figure out why.

As promised, Buck walks in ten minutes later with two bags of chinese food and a bottle of white wine. He seemed tense, but when he sees Eddie in his presence, he can automatically see his whole body relax. 

“I hate when we’re not on shift together.” Buck says in lieu of a greeting. He places the wine and food on the coffee table in front of them before he plops down next to Eddie.

He leans into Eddie’s touch, instantly lying his head on Eddie’s chest and closes his eyes.

Eddie smiles down at his boyfriend, automatically moving to run a hand through his curls, wrapping the other arm around Buck’s chest. “Me too. I missed you today. So did Chris.”

“I missed you both like crazy today. I can’t wait to just cuddle up to you and fall asleep.” He mumbles. “You’re my world.”

Even after all of this time, Buck can still make Eddie blush like it’s nothing.

He presses his lips to Buck’s forehead. “And you’re mine.” 

It stays quiet after that until Eddie’s stomach growls, startling Buck into sitting upright in laughter. 

“I think it’s time to eat, huh?” 

“You’d be right.” 

Buck gets up and gets two wine glasses from the kitchen. The way in which Buck walks so comfortably around his home will never fail to bring a kaleidoscope of butterflies to his stomach. He knows where everything is and he knows how everything works and it feels empty when he’s not there. 

Eddie turns on the TV and picks a random station that’s playing reruns of a cop show he’d seen here and there. Eddie and Buck’s legs are interlaced and resting on the coffee table, food in their laps when things settle. The ease on Buck’s face makes him wonder why he was even worried in the first place.

They don’t talk as they eat their food and sip their wine. They just take in each other’s company as they watch what’s on in front of them, perfectly content in just being together. 

Buck’s phone rings from the coffee table. When he lets it ring through to voicemail without even looking at ID, Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the one who said you should answer every phone call because it might be important? Or are you just a clone of my boyfriend?”

Buck snorts. “I know it’s not important.”

It starts to ring again and Eddie sees Maddie’s name flash on the screen. “It sounds important.”

“I promise you it’s not.” 

Then she calls a third time and Buck groans. “Fine, fine. I’ll answer.” 

He doesn’t leave the room, doesn’t make any effort to grab his phone, just sits back and pouts as Eddie hands him his phone. 

He listens to Buck’s side of the conversation closely. He’s talking about not wanting to go somewhere because he doesn’t know if someone is going to be at that place and he doesn’t want to risk it. Hm.

“I was having a nice, relaxing night with Eddie before you called about something you knew the answer to, so if you’ll excuse me, I’d love to get back to that.” He throws his phone onto his lap after he hangs up, then smiles sheepishly. “Any chance you can ignore that?”

“If you don’t want to talk about it right now, that’s perfectly okay. But we do have to talk about it eventually. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you snap at Maddie, so something must have happened.”

Buck cuddles back into Eddie’s chest, revelling in his arm comfortably wrapped around his shoulders. “It’s really not a big deal, Eds. It’s just stupid.”

“Well, lucky for you, I like hearing everything you have to say. Even if it’s stupid.” 

“Did you just boop my nose?” 

“And what about it?”

All Eddie feels is the shaking from Buck’s giggling. “Shit, whoever decided I was good enough to have you in my life is someone I’d like to meet because...man, I love you.”

“Hi, nice to meet you.” Eddie smirks.

Buck hides his face in the nook of his neck. “Stop making me blush.”

“Never.”

It’s quiet again after that until Buck finally talks. “So, uh…”

“Yeah?”

“I got a wedding invitation in the mail today. It’s from my cousin, she’s getting married in Los Angeles so she invited Maddie and me. We get along just fine, always have, but I haven’t talked to her in a few years and now Maddie thinks it’s completely necessary to actually go to her wedding. I just don't know if I want to risk going and have them be there as well, you know?”

“Your parents?”

“Who else?”

“Well think about it this way. If the risk of seeing your parents again was out of the equation, would you want to go?”

Buck sighs. “Of course I would. It’d be nice to see her again and have a good time, but Eds… you know how my parents are.”

It’s true, he did know how his parents were. He remembers when they’d come to Los Angeles when they found out their first grandchild had been born. He remembers how tense Buck had been the entire time, how he let his parents walk all over him and tell him how big of a failure he was like it was a normal day to day conversation. He especially remembers yelling at Buck’s father after a particularly barbaric comment on Buck’s lifestyle. 

He knows why he’d want to avoid his parents, because Eddie would too. 

“Can you bring a plus one?”

“What?”

“Can you bring a plus one to the wedding?” He smiles when Buck nods. “Take me. If your parents are there, I’ll have your back. Plus, your cousin seems nice, I’d love to meet the family that’s not pretentious.”

Buck choked on the wine he’d taken a sip of. “You think Maddie’s pretentious?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely pretentious.” He jokes. “I mean your extended family. You’ve met mine.”

Buck sighs. “Whatever. I guess we’re going to a Buckley wedding. I really did want to see McKenna so you win.”

“I always do.” He grins before he connects his lips with Buck’s and giggles against it when his fingers press against the only ticklish part of his body.

“What? Did that tickle?” Buck gasps. “You said you weren’t ticklish!”

“I’m not!” 

“Mhm.” 

Then suddenly, the wedding worries were long forgotten, tickle war long taking its place. 

“Oooooooh, so you’re going to a wedding with him, huh?” Hen wiggles her eyebrows from where she stands across her kitchen. “That’s gonna be you one day.”

Eddie sighs exasperatedly. “Not if I have nothing planned. I wanna make this special, okay?”

Hen’s face softens. “Anything you do to propose will make it special, honey. You’re Buck’s world, a simple Marry me? would be the most romantic thing in the world to him.”

“Maybe so, but that’s how it was with Shannon. She was pregnant with Christopher so I thought the next logical step would be marriage, but this is different. Buck is different.”

“Alright, alright, let’s get to work, then.” She opens her laptop. “What are some of your favorite things about him?”

Eddie’s face erupts into a look of pure adoration at that question. “Oh, Henrietta, you have no idea what you just got yourself into, asking that. What are some of my favorite things about Evan Buckley? Let’s see… When he wakes up in the morning, he makes this cute little noise when he stretches and it makes my heart fill with joy. He loves Christopher like he’s his own and he never treats him differently. He just has so much knowledge about literally anything. Random facts upon random facts are stored in that beautiful brain of his and whenever he tells me one of these random facts, it’s suddenly the most important thing in the world. He’s so selfless, you know this. When we got together and I still wasn’t sure about being open about my sexuality, he put my fears above his own fear of telling you guys. He’s an amazing cook, so amazing I have a hard time believing that before he joined the one-eighteen the only thing he could cook was ramen. Even if he could still only cook ramen, I’d still love him, we’d just be living off of frozen food. I love the little family we’ve got going on now. I can go on for hours, but I won’t. Any of that help?” 

By the time he was done, Karen was home and trying her hardest not to tease the lovesick man.

“Oh, honey, you’ve got it bad.” Karen giggles. “Buck has it just bad, though.”

Hen clears her throat. “What’s something that’s specific to you and Buck? Christopher, too. You can always propose that way. Doing something and it’ll just come completely unexpected?”

The metaphorical light bulb over Eddie’s head flashes on. “I have it!”

It’s a Friday morning at the firehouse and Eddie finds himself next to Hen, looking over her shoulder as she helps him navigate what needs to be done to propose. 

His eyes travel up to meet his boyfriend’s as he walks up the stairs, and even though his smile is bright as he sees him, there’s bags under his eyes. The second his eyes land on Chimney though, he deflates and rolls his eyes. Chimney has a smug look and Eddie knows he definitely missed something.

“You can’t avoid me forever, Buckaroo.” 

Buck looks over to Hen and Eddie, making an exaggerated face of confusion. 

“Did you guys hear something?” 

Bobby laughs from where he’s at in the kitchen, Hen snorts, and Eddie is grinning, looking between the soon to be brother in laws.

“How mature of you, Evan.” Chimney rolls his eyes. “I just wanna talk about the wedding next week and he keeps rolling his eyes and running away. Eddie, make him stop.” 

Buck scoffs. “You’re sitting here whining and you’re calling me the immature one.” 

“I wouldn’t be whining if you just talk to me for once. I just want more information, who I’m gonna meet, if your parents are coming, c’mon give me something.”

“Alright.” Buck smirks. “For good luck, Egyptian women pinch the bride before the wedding.”

Chimney groans. “What?”

“Engagement and wedding rings are worn on the fourth fingers of the left hand because it was once thought that a vein in that finger leads directly to the heart.”

“That’s beautiful, but I wanna talk about the wedding next week.” Chimney whines.

Eddie is torn between wanting to laugh and being worried about his boyfriend. It’s obvious Chim doesn’t know that this is Buck’s classic mode of deflection, and Buck seems to know this. Eddie can tell Buck is just beginning, too. 

“Seventeen tons of gold are made into wedding rings each year in the United States.”

“Maddie says you would know more about the family that’s going to the wedding, so why won’t you just tell me?”

“Ancient Greeks and Romans thought the veil protected the bride from evil spirits. Brides have worn them ever since.”

Chimney turns to Eddie and Hen, arms out in exasperation, desperate. “Eddie!”

Eddie shrugs his shoulder. “If he doesn’t wanna talk about the wedding, don’t make him talk about the wedding. I’m not gonna make my f- my boyfriend do something he doesn’t want to do.” 

Buck’s too distracted in his minds’ files of facts on weddings to tell Chimney to hear him almost slip up, but Chimney’s got his eyebrow raised and he hears Hen snicker under her breath, nice one. 

Chimney eyes him suspiciously for a moment before he goes back to the problem at hand. “Maddie doesn’t know her cousin all that well, she’s more around Buck’s age, I just want to know what I should expect because I know how the Buckley’s are. Why can’t you just tell me something, man?”

“The most expensive wedding was Sheik Rashad Bin Al Maktoum’s son’s marriage to Princess Salama in Dubai in 1981. It was forty-four million dollars.”

“What about your cousin’s wedding?”

“In the symbolic language of jewels, a sapphire in a wedding ring means marital happiness.”

Before Chimney can ask once more, Eddie cuts in again. “He hasn’t seen anyone in his family in years, why would he know who’s going?”

“Thank you!” Buck sighs and drops next to Eddie, who shuts his laptop so fast it probably would have broken the screen. “I have plenty of more facts about weddings if you want to keep talking about the wedding, though.”

Chimney hears the message it is and sighs. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like talking about your family. I’m just feeling a little anxious here, ya know?”

Buck sighs. “Me too, Chim. But if it helps you any, McKenna is not at all as pretentious and callous as my parents. That’s all I can and want to tell you about though, so please… Let it go.” 

Hen reaches over and places her hand on Buck’s in an attempt of comfort before her soft smile turns to a smirk. “So Buckaroo, why do you know so much about weddings?”

Eddie’s eyes go comically wide. 

“A little late night reading.” He shrugs. 

“Hm.” She turns to Eddie with a smirk when Bobby calls Buck over to help.

Eddie groans softly, resting his head on the cold wood of the dining table. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

Three days later, Eddie finds himself at a jewelry shop on Wilshire with Hen and Karen.

“I feel like all of these rings look the same.” He whines. 

“You’ve looked at four rings and this store is huge.” Hen rolls her eyes. “You’ll know when you’ve found the right ring, okay?”

“Will I?”

Karen snorts. “Yes, you will. Trust me, I went through this same thing when I was proposing to Hen. You’ll just know.”

So Eddie keeps looking. He’s completely indecisive as if it’s him that’s going to be wearing the ring, because Buck definitely wouldn’t care about a fancy ring or any ring at all, but Eddie needs it to be special. 

“How about this?” Karen calls from the other end of the store. When Eddie reaches her, she’s pointing at a black band, definitely something he can automatically picture on Buck’s hand. It still didn’t feel right to him, though. He says as much to Karen before he starts searching the glass case in front of them for more. 

He gasps as soon as he sees it. Hen was right about just knowing.

He calls over the jeweler and asks to see it. The second he’s holding it in between his fingers, he can see himself getting down on one knee. He can see it on Buck’s ring finger, shining brightly to everyone Buck proudly shows it to. It’s definitely the ring.

“This is it.” He grins, looking side to side at the women standing next to him and then smiles at the jeweler. 

Karen and Hen squeal loudly. “What is it about this ring, Diaz-Buckley?” 

“In the symbolic language of jewels, a sapphire in a wedding ring means marital happiness.”

[simptasia]

ultimate ship meme ask <3 for science trio!

ah, thank you! i’m so sorry it took me this long to respond, i didn’t mean for 2 bloody weeks to pass. i kept procrastinating or being too tired

daniel + charlotte + miles

General:

Rate the Ship Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OT3 to Rule all other OT3s

How long will they last? 

eternity and then some

How quickly did/will they fall in love?

daniel @ charlotte, i’m thinking like a week or so. kinda hit him like a bullet

charlotte @ daniel, two or three weeks

daniel @ miles, somewhere from a couple of months to a year

charlotte @ miles, in living timeline didn’t happen, in limboverse, i’ll give her 3 months. and she loved him as a friend already anyways. i imagine it’s her who brings miles into the fold, allowing the sci trio to be fully realised

miles @ daniel and charlotte, oh Fuck Knows. it happens, but [shrugs]. and i like the idea that miles didn’t realise he was in love with daniel and charlotte (and sawyer and juliet) until waaay after their time together. like he falls in love with richard and then The Power Of Hindsight kinda fucks him over

(and for anybody who gets snippy saying that “a couple of weeks is too quick to fall in love!” or some shit: my bf fell in love with me in 2 weeks, and for me it took a month. so nyeh. also hurley/libby, sayid/shannon and charlie/claire)

How was their first kiss?

all of these take place in limboverse

daniel/charlotte: so i imagine this happens like right after they Remember, so emotions are running high and char is like “i’m gonna do something i should have done when we were alive” and just sorta grabs dan’s face and <3

and dan is stunned for a second and then sinks into it. you know that lovely trope of somebody being kissed and their eyes are open and then they practically melt closed from the kissy feelings. and they’re soulmates and this has been a long time coming and i feel cliche but uh, fireworks

daniel/miles: so the three of them have started Their Thing and like, they’re in a sexual relationship now but because char started this, dan is unsure about like, do him and miles do... stuff... together too? is that a thing? they were all touching each other during The Event. plus dan isn’t exactly sure how he feels about miles, but he’s been slowly getting more attracted to him over time. and also dan’s never been with a guy before. so yeah dan is overthinking things and meanwhile, miles is like “if he’s up for it, i’m down” but keeping his distance because like, it’s dan and he doesn’t know if dan is into him

that was a long build up to say, eventually the dan/miles side of the triangle does get figured out and after a moment of awkwardness dan kisses miles, tentative at first and then That Spark happens and they both get into it. at one moment miles pulls back just a bit and dan deliriously like... chases his mouth. because it turns out kissing miles is awesome. and miles notes dan’s a good kisser too, and dan isn’t even offended at the surprised in miles’ tone. 

so in short, dan and miles’ first kiss went on for longer than miles expected because dan got tingly soup brain

also in both of dan’s first kisses with these two he kept his hands to himself outta 1. not thinking clearly because Mouth Things and 2. awkwardness. both char and miles had to grab dan’s hands and place them upon themselves, to remind him, you have these, please use them (there’s a line i give char: “i think you’d find i have many lovely things below my shoulders, dan”). from then on, dan is Characteristically Handsy. annnnyways!

charlotte/miles: it was very shortly after they met actually. pierre introduced them at the museum and there was attraction yes, but also this spark which they both wordlessly acknowledge. when pierre has left (just to get coffee hjjdhasa), they talk for a bit and then casually agree to go somewhere private. a coat check room. they got hit with familiarity and both of them being the type of people who have casual sex that information translated into “i’m gonna fuck this person now”

so basically their first kiss was messy, frantic, impulsive, clothes quickly being taken off, etc etc. thats how their friends with benefits thing started, even before they were friends, really. this was years ago and they became besties

Wedding:

in this set-up, it’d be dan and char getting married

Who proposed?

dan, technically but it wasn’t a surprise. marriage was something both of them discussed for a while before and char was the one who brought it up

(and here is where she jokes “you know what my mum would say about me marrying an american” and daniel gets an Awful Feeling from that)

Who is the best man/men?

well, miles, of course. richard is also one of the groomsman <3

Who is the braid’s maid(s)?

Why Weren’t You Allowed To Have Lady Friends

and besides that, most of the available women in lost have Moved On

annnnd i just remembered char has two sisters. chelsea and chloe

Who did the most planning?

char. it’s not that dan doesn’t care, it’s just she just has more preferences. patterns and colours and things like that. but they all pitch in at least a little

tho miles is the least help. at one point char holds up two swatches for bridesmaids dresses and asks which one he likes more (she’ll decide herself, she just wants Interaction, for her nerves) and miles doesn’t look up from his magazine and says “the left one”. char is annoyed and he says “whichever one is closest to purple”. they’re each a shade of green and blue

Who stressed the most?

oh, char. she never thought she’d get married so she’s never really emotionally prepared herself for it. or for planning a event like this. she isn’t paitent with people she doesn’t already like so dealing with wedding business people has been a task. and just. marriage isn’t stressful, weddings are. which is why dan is gonna be a good boy and absolutely help. and miles is also helping...

char: and how exactly have you been helping??

miles: [serious tone] i’m the plucky comic relief

char: [death glare]

miles: ...i’ll go pick up the flowers

- later -

daniel: heeey miles, you know how you and charlotte like to playfully snipe at each other? ...you can’t do that right now, she’s kinda stressed

miles: [wheeling in dozens of lillies] yeah, i figured that

char, from the other room: WHY ARE CAKES SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE

How fancy was the ceremony?

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

i’ll give this a 7 outta 10 on the “ooh aah” scale. oh yeah they could absolutely afford a huge fuck off wedding but they didn’t want one. also another reason they didn’t have a Huge Wedding is that dan, char and miles legit don’t know enough people i always picture their wedding happens in like a park. a nice one. and there’s a real prevalant flower motif happening here. arch covered in flowers, petals on the ground, lotsa white lillies about. there’s a real English Garden / cottage aesthetic vibe to this. char’s got a flower in her hair and i just decided her wedding dress has like cloth white flowers on it, not all over it. so like, the whole thing is cute and elegant  and flowery and more expensive than it looks. the main colours being used are white, light blue and lilac

oh oh, the cake is chocolate on the inside! and it’s white (duh) but with lilac flower trim around each layer. char never planned for a wedding before but once she adjusted to the idea she was like “this is gonna be really really pretty”

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding?

eloise. no explanation needed

Sex:

Who is on top?

well, everybody who can be, has been. char has defo given dan and miles the strap. the least toppage going on is dan topping miles. very rarely happens

Who is the one to instigate things?

well, char is the Most instigate-y and dan is the least instigate-y, with miles in the middle. and damn if that doesn’t sum up their dynamic

How healthy is their sex life?

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

gonna give them all, overall, a reasonable eight. it happens a Lot, but it’s not a crazy amount. (except when dan and char are trying for a baby, then dan is... dan is... lovingly tenderized)

there’s diff variables (heh) at play here, but for the most part theres quite a bit of sex going all around. so yeah, their neighbours don’t like them very much, because char is Really Really Loud and easily satisfied

How kinky are they?

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

that 8 is via the power of char and miles’ kinky tastes

dan is decidedly more vanilla but willing to try new things. and he’s got some latent kinks/fetishes hiding in him that these two bring out of him

i’ve gone into this many times but basically char is into being dominating, miles loves pain and as far as dan’s brain is concerned, Charlotte Is A Fetish

there’s more going on than that, but i’m being succint

How long do they normally last?

miles doesn’t last notably long, or notably short. but he seems like a real stayer in comparison to dan and charlotte. char comes quickly and repeatedly

dan, oh dan, he’s not. he’s not lasting long. this is not bad thing. he was worried about it at first but char is a-okay with this. she wuvs her boy. and besides, he has pretty good recovery. so second round if the first round was like a bit “oh”

dan is sensitive (and autistic!), sex is a Lot for him. anyways miles has defo joked about these two cumming at the drop of a hate. another reason the neighbours are annoyed, Please Go To Sleep Charlotte (nyet)

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms?

nobody here is unsatisified

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it

on this scale, i’m giving dan/char a 2 to 4, char/miles a 5 to 10 and dan/miles a 3 to 6. and all together oh... anything could happen

the general “rule” is Take It Easy On Dan, He’s Delicate

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do?

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory

so much. so much cuddle snuggle uwuwuwuwu no no get back here miles you cannot escape, come back here and be loved

dan is a major cuddler, very tactile, char is pretty affectionate. miles used to be “meh” on affection but he’s warm to it these three cuddling in bed lives rent free in my head 24/7

Children:

How many children will they have naturally?

i’ve given dan and char 4 kids (three girls and a boy). penny, ada, marie and isaac. i’ve made charts about this

hypothetically, like in sims, i’ve given char and miles a daughter but i’m not commited to that idea, like i don’t have that in my Internal Canon

but he’s their papa too, emotionally <3

How many children will they adopt?

none, unless you count rats

Who gets stuck with the most diapers?

dan’s job requires the least Work, so he’s at home more often, so yeah

Who is the stricter parent?

char, but she’s not strict strict, this is just in comparison to daniel “but i can’t say mean things to my babies” faraday and miles “wanna learn how to shoplift?” straume. she’s not a Mean Nagging Mum stereotype tho, i won’t allow it

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school?

dan and char are Equally “you can’t be doing stuff like this, it’s not safe” whilst miles is lowkey encouraging it. but after a stern look he has to admit riding a scooter on the school roof is kinda fucked up. like miles is... miles but he doesn’t want his babies like actually hurt, he’s still a good dad

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)?

dan dan the photographic memory man

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings?

char, because i think that’d be really funny. and i want all of them to go to at least one meeting together, because they heard some bitch refer to their daughter marie as “that weird child” and that she warned her children to keep away from dan, char and miles kids. and also she refered to dan, char and miles as “deviants” cuz she feels kids shouldn’t have three parents

soooo char is going to publicly cut her down. verbally and viciously. dan and miles are also angery but they’re there to make sure char doesn’t actually physically beat this woman. and also this final caveat:

miles: [eating a sad looking muffin] and your muffins suck too

Who cried the most at graduation?

char but dan and miles are crying too

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law?

MILES IS A COP!!! and it’s never felt so good until the moment ada got busted for drinking at a party when she was only 17. oh miles isn’t that abusing your authority? “yeah but every cop does that, i may as well do it for my kid”

yeah, that crime is  the worst thing i could think of for this, i don’t think these people’s kids would do like actual bad crimes

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking?

you know, i tend to picture miles cooking the most. my typical default for imagining char and miles chatting is that they’re in the kitchen, she’s holding tea and he’s making something on the stove. typically mac & cheese. or bacon

but really i think they all cook a decent amount

Who is the most picky in their food choice?

dan because he’s autistic and has some medical requirements, like my esoteric headcanon that he cannot digest meat at all

Who does the grocery shopping?

char and miles are more used to it, whilst i imagine dan has barely set foot in a grocery store in his life. but upon, like, being a grown up, he starts going more with char and miles and he likes it, for the most part. the lights are a bitch, tho

i think dan does it the least, miles the most, and char and miles go together more often than not. oh, and when char is out of pads and she forgot to stock up, miles is the designated Get Me Pads And Painkillers You Bastard man

tho that trope always confused me, as somebody who has at least 5 packages of pads in my pad drawer at all times. are there really period having people who don’t stock up ahead of time and have to ask their significant other?

but i digress

How often do they bake desserts?

not notably often, but i’ve defo imagined miles making Special Brownies

which daniel proceeded to eat all of in a fit of I’m Suddenly Very Hungry

what’s that puddle over there? oh it’s just dan

but anyways thinking on this, i can see these three making a cake together. and it goes a little wonky because their kitchen is small and Too Many Cooks. but a flat chocolate cake is a cake nonetheless. monch

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater?

dan: salad, the other option is No Good, so my boy is a vegetarian

char: i’ve made her more a meat lover than a veggie lover (tis her love of a proper English Breakfast) but not overally so

miles: defo likes meat (and savoury things in general) over salad. he’s not one of those guys whose a dickhead about it tho. veggies are just alright to him

tho i can see miles teasing dan about his “rabbit food diet” (which isn’t even apt because rabbits aren’t in the habit of mainlining noodles and pasta)

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner?

aaahh this feels like something dan would do, he wants to be ~womantic~

Who is more likely to suggest going out?

char, the extroverted outdoorsy one

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking?

dan because he got distracted by something. like he was cooking something in the oven and then some Musical Thoughts overtake him and he’s gotta write it down and wait 30 minutes have past OH GOD THE PIE BEEP BEEP BEEP

Chores:

Who cleans the room?

The Room. the Singular Room

anyways they all clean, it’s not very interesting to think about

Who is really against chores?

none of them. miles will half-heartedly complain sometimes but he grew up used to helping out around the house

Who cleans up after the pets?

dan and char clean up after their rats and cat because they are responsible pet owners. and char will clean miles’ wounds because jean-luc is a bastard cat

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug?

what kind of idiot... No!

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over?

i can’t see this, like any of them getting stressed about that

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning?

miles’ dollar now

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths?

dan takes longer showers, char takes longer baths

Who takes the dog out for a walk?

no dog, only kitty. kitties don’t go for walks

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays?

ohh i imagine char decks the place out for christmas. she loves christmas because good family memories. and also she has knitted christmas jumpers for her boys (and cat). christmas and halloween is the only major holiday that they got ham for. and by they, i mean char and miles

dan is just happy to be here

char: you know miles, it’s january and that little bat is still hanging above the fireplace

miles: if you wanna take him down, you can

char: ...no, i just wanted to adknowledge him

dan: he’s part of the family

What are their goals for the relationship?

uh, love, sex and babies. duh

Who is most likely to sleep till noon?

miles. coffee keeps him on his work schedule

Who plays the most pranks?

well, miles, obviously. i can’t think of any because i don’t really go for pranks but nothing elaborate, simple stuff. does that “orders a black coffee at macdonalds when your kids are in the backseat” count as a prank. miles would do that, pause for enough time for the kids to be like :O and then ask for their orders

there! done! wowee, bless any y’all who take the time to read All Of That

[fluffyunicornofdanger]

Ain’t No Rockstar

A/N: It felt like this took me forever to write. But I solved all my problems with it and I’ve decided I’m gonna turn it into a series. Maybe give it one or two more parts, we’ll see. If you lovely people could, I would appreciate it if you could send me gifs cause they never want to load on my wifi. I’m changing a bunch of stuff, like my color and profile pics because I felt like it, and my masterlist is gonna get redone. Just wanted to let you guys know about that before it happens. Requests are open, so send ‘em in and I hope you guys enjoy.

*~~*~~*

Masterlist

Slash x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Part 1 of 3 (Maybe)

Summary: Y/n was nothing more than a stressed out makeup artist, at least that all she thought she was. It turns out that she was more than that to one member of the band she was working for. Not only would she have to navigate both his and her feelings, but she would also have to find the courage to seize what she wanted before it disappeared.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Long as hell, language, alcohol, mention of drugs

The smell of hairspray mixed with smoke filled her nostrils as Y/n tested out the bottle. She was going through hairspray like crazy and it didn’t help that half of the bottles wouldn’t work. Pressing the nozzle down, she waited for the sheer mist to appear before turning back to the person sitting in front of her. 

Doing hair and makeup had never been her ideal job. Though, when asked what job that might be, she had no answer. All she knew was what wouldn’t make her happy. She’d learned that running wasn’t for her, neither was waiting tables, and that coffee wasn’t the best drink in the world while yellow didn’t please her eyes. But when she was asked what was for her, what drink was best, and what color pleased her eyes, her mind would go blank. How was she supposed to know the answer to any of those? She’d barely experienced life, She was at the beginning of a journey that had yet to begin.

Y/n sighed as she thought about her “shortcomings”-- as her mother called them. Playing with the auburn hair in front of her, she shaped and teased it to the height she wanted before spraying it with the can in hand. 

Y/n looked at the man sitting in front of her through the mirror, “Is that high enough, Axl?”

Axl didn’t even bother to look, too engrossed by the conversation he was having with his bandmates to care about his hair, and Y/n sighed.  Grabbing the comb off the vanity in front of them, she decided that the hair hadn’t been teased high enough. He would bitch either way: it was either too high or too low. Nevertheless, she began to run the comb against his hair, spraying it as she went along, the toxic mist hitting her in the face as she went along.

Y/n may not have known what she wanted to do with her life, but one thing she knew for sure was that she didn’t want to deal with rock stars. Glancing at the men around her, she reflected on their dark leather jackets, ripped jeans, ‘I-don’t-care’ attitudes, and wasn’t sure how people put up with them. In her mind, they were like crows. Screeching at the most random of times and doing whatever they pleased, not caring who it upset. Never once in her time of getting them ready for shows or photoshoots had she seen them drink something that wasn’t intoxicating, or manage to stay out of trouble. They were the outcasts, the black cats that people were wary about, and with good reason.

Being outcasts didn’t matter to her, though. Not when they were such assholes. If they weren’t busy pissing each other off, they were pissing everyone else off. On multiple occasions, stylists, photographers, and assistants had quit because they could no longer handle the group. Vices stacked against them or not, they weren’t a bunch of innocent schoolboys, anyone who thought so was a fool. 

“I look like a fucking poodle,” Axl grunted, looking up for the first time and wincing at his appearance. Y/n rolled her eyes, combing out some of the hair. “It’s too big! I don’t want to look like I borrowed a wig from Dolly Parton!”

Her jaw set as a fake smile crossed on her lips and she nodded. “Lower then.”

He smiled. “Yes, lower.”

The smile disappeared once she went back to work, trying to comb out his unruly hair. As she brushed the hair back down, she couldn’t help but think about her shortcomings. It wasn’t that she failed to know what brought her joy, it was all the things she wanted to do. The things that were just out of reach. At one time, she wanted to learn how to surf but that idea went away when she took on the job as a makeup artist. All the time that she thought she had vanished once she started applying people’s makeup and styling their hair. Before that, she had wanted to learn to dance. Her mother had been a ballet dancer, performing for large crowds throughout Europe and the US. The dream of dancing, ballet or not, faded when she realized she couldn’t afford the classes. Time and money were never on her side, nor had they ever been. The only dreams she still held firmly to were ‘foolish’ ones, ones that would get a good laugh from her mother, who had seen the world, and the men around her, who didn't care.

Touching up the combed out hair, she finally set the hairspray and comb down. 

“How about that?” she asked, stepping back to look at her work herself.

He shrugged, “It’ll have to do, I guess.”

Axl stood from the chair and walked over to the couch. Sitting down, he snatched a bottle of whiskey off the table in front of him and drank it as though it were water. Whatever nerves he was trying to numb was nothing in comparison to the stress that was bubbling up inside of her. A drink, a nice, long, refreshing drink that would wash away her problems was what she needed. Anything at all, any fix, permanent or not was what she yearned for.

Y/n turned her attention to the supplies in front of her. Axl was the last of the boys she had to do, meaning it was time for her to pack up and leave and she sure as hell wasn’t complaining, even though she wasn’ going that far. . They were on tour and this was just one of the many photo shoots they’d be doing, with a show a few hours later that she’d need to get them ready for. She picked up the combs and brushes, dropping them into a bag for her to sort out later, before shoving eyeliner and powder into her makeup case, not caring if they were in their correct spots. 

“Are you gonna stay for the show tonight?” Saul asked, fiddling with his cigarette in one hand, a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other.

She shook her head in response, not bothering to turn around. 

“Why not? It’s not like you have anything better to do.”

Y/n sighed, shutting the makeup case after checking the counter to make sure she didn’t leave anything out, “I can think of a million other things I’d rather do than watch your show.”

Axl scoffed, earning a snicker from Steve and Duff.

 “Like what? It’s not like you do that much around here. I’m sure organizing your bags-” He gestured to the case she had in front of her. “-will take all night.”

The sarcasm in his voice burned in her ears. Out of all the people in the world, she got stuck doing their makeup...stuck doing the makeup for overgrown children. 

“Whatever,” Y/n  said, grabbing her makeup case and hair bag before walking out of the room. She could also think of a million other places she’d rather be.

When she was out of sight, Saul turned to his friends, disappointment in his eyes, “Why’d you have to do that?”

Confused faces looked back at him. 

“She puts up with our shit all the time, can’t you guys give her a break for once?”

Duff raised a brow. They all were aware of how much they stressed those around them out. Hell, they stressed each other out. But they never cared. As friends, they just brushed it off and when it came to other people, they expected them to do the same. It wasn’t like they were going to change their ways anytime soon. 

“You want us-” The blonde pointed to everyone. “-to give her a break?”

 He spoke each word slowly, trying to make sure his friend understood his question. Making sure he understood the question he had been asked.

Saul nodded, brushing black coils out of his face. “Yeah.”

Just as he was about to ask why the answer hit him like a ton of bricks. Duff drew in a breath, his jaw dropping. He hadn’t thought of it before, never once had it crossed his mind, but looking back now, it made sense, “You like her!”

It was hard for him to deny the accusation when he felt his cheeks burn. Silence wasn’t going to get him anywhere, so he nodded. “Maybe I do.”

Axl shook his head. “And we’re now just hearing about this!?!”

Saul didn’t know what to say. Y/n had a million reasons she wasn’t going to the show and he had a million reasons as to why he’d never shared the information before. He looked down at his hands, avoiding the eyes burning him. 

“It’s not like it matters anyway. She’s clearly disgusted by us.”

The words stung coming off his tongue but they were true. He saw the way she looked at them, saw the glances through the mirror. She wasn’t impressed by them like the millions of other girls were. In her eyes, they were probably nothing more then flies--annoying creatures that only made her job more difficult. They were a pain in the ass and if she didn’t need the money, he knew she would have no problem parting ways with the band. 

“I would be, too. Have you seen how greasy Izzy’s hair gets?” Steven commented from the other side of the room. 

Izzy glared at him while Saul shook his head.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Leaning back, he stared at the ceiling. “She sees us as drug addicts, just like the rest of the population. She wouldn’t want anything to do with any one of us outside of work.”

“You don’t know that. She may be hopped up on drugs like the rest of us,” Duff tried to assure him. 

“Whatever,” he sighed. “Just forget I didn’t mention it.”

*~~*~~*

Y/n heaved a sigh, lifting her makeup case into a compartment on the tour bus. When everything was put away, she took a seat around the tiny table the bus had to offer. Laying her head on the cold surface, she closed her eyes.

Everything was unusually quiet. There were no people bustling around outside, moving equipment and instruments, no fans screaming like the world was ending, no nothing. For once she escaped the madness that normally encased her like a cacoon. Any peace and quiet she could get while on tour she would take. Everyone, besides the band, felt that way when they weren’t around. Silence was a god’s send to those that were busting their ass, trying to make the shows run smoothly. 

In the silence, she could almost picture what her life used to look like. Scenes of stirring a bowl of cake batter with her mother next to her, played behind her eyelids, as  Mozart's “Der Hölle Rache” played softly in the background. Memories like those sweet, gentle, moments like that were ones she missed. Sadly, those were gone, blowing away in the wind, left in their place were rough and wild moments that rushed together, colliding in violent fights. Nothing she would want to remember, let alone look back on during moments of peace.

“Rough day?”

Y/n opened her eyes, lifting her head to see Jessica, one of the sound techs, open the fridge and pull out a water bottle. She shrugged, “No rougher than usual.”

“They’re a lot to handle, though.” Jessica tossed Y/n a water before opening her own. “I’m impressed you’ve lasted this long. The last makeup artist lasted, oh, maybe three weeks.”

Y/n toyed with the water bottle, processing the information. Her third week working for the band was also the week that she had contemplated quitting almost every day. It was just a long enough period of time to know the boys enough but not enough, causing false assumptions. Though many of her assumptions were true, a longer period was needed for her to fully adjust to their wild behavior. That’s probably why the last makeup artist quit, they hadn’t given themselves enough time to get used to the wild and restless. She didn’t think anyone would be able to get used to their behavior, only block it out.

“I’m not sure how much longer I can last, though,” She said with a sigh. “I enjoy what I do, really, but it’s just… I don’t know.” She shook her head, “They frustrate me to no end. Either their hair is too flat, too greasy, or too high. Too this, too that. It doesn’t even matter, they just like to complain.”

Jessica chuckled, a slight smile forming on her lips. “It sounds like you need a drink. Something a little stronger than water.”

“No kidding.”

“Don’t let them get to you, Y/n. As hard as it may seem, you just need to focus on the task at hand, not those that make the task harder. You know what I mean?”

Y/n nodded, opening her water and taking a sip. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”

“Good,” Jessica smiled. “Cause they are clearly stressing you out and stress isn’t good for anyone. Plus, my mother says it causes wrinkles and no one wants those.”

Y/n shook her head, her lips tugging into a smile as Jessica left her in peace. 

Maybe the boys were stressing her out. The thought had never crossed her mind, she was always too focused on making them look perfect to notice. But upon further inspection, it made sense. The overwhelmed, anxious feeling that always lingered in her chest hours after she was finished with her work and the tossing and turning she did at night were dead giveaways to the stress she was under. If she looked in the mirror, she was sure that there would be bags under her eyes, but, lately, she never looked in the mirror to look at herself only the people she was working one. Yet, with the stress she was facing, she hadn’t given it a thought.

Y/n sighed, moving from the table, she crouched next to her bunk and pulled out the guitar case that she stored under it. She placed the case on the table, opening it, and felt her shoulders drop when her eyes met a  dark blue acoustic guitar. Running her fingers over the fretboard, she took a deep breath before pulling it out of the case.

*~~*~~*

Saul ran a hand through his curled hair, ruining the work that had been done to it earlier. Stepping out of the concert hall, he took a deep breath, glad to be outside, to be away from the relentless teasing of his friends. Even though he asked them to forget he mentioned it, they couldn’t do that. It was just too easy to forget something. He sighed and decided to walk around for a bit. Maybe some time away from them would slow his racing heart down. 

That thought became less and less likely as he walked, his brain mulling over his emotions that were running wild. He didn’t just like Y/n, the guitarist felt that he was coming to love her. It was foolish when he knew he didn’t stand a chance, yet the feelings didn’t waver, they stood firm like a hardwood in a rainstorm. 

What a fool he was. 

The boys and him could have any girl they wanted, girls fell into their laps like apples fall from trees, yet he that wasn’t good enough for him. His friends weren’t picky, not giving a thought to their emotions, not letting their feelings eat away at them. They were satisfied with any girl that came their way, Saul wasn’t. He wanted to be, he didn’t want his heart to race at the thought of one person, but that seemed to be what he was stuck with.

Saul pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulling one out and lighting it in hopes that it would help calm his heart down. Taking a drag, he tried to focus on the show, the after-party, their next stop, anything to distract him from what was eating him up inside. Nothing was working, nothing was strong enough to deter his mind from the emotions that he felt. He was just about to grab a bottle of vodka from the band’s bus, hoping that it would drown his problems when he heard the faint sound of someone plucking at guitar strings.

Stopping in his tracks, he looked around, trying to pinpoint where the music was coming from. The tune wasn’t that interact, yet it intrigued him, drawing him to it. He started walking in the direction of the intoxicating sound. It was doing a far better job at wiping his mind than anything he had tried. Saul raised a brow when he was lead to the crew bus, he wasn’t sure who he was expecting to be behind the music, but he wouldn’t have guessed a crew member.

Climbing the steps of the bus, he was surprised by the scene in front of. Sitting on the couch was Y/n, a guitar resting in her arms. Saul leaned against the driver’s seat, watching her play the instrument. It was news to him that she knew how to play, but then again, it wasn’t like he’d ever asked. Their conversations had never gone further than how he wanted his hair done and what stage makeup he wanted. It never went further than that, leaving him to wonder what else he didn’t know about her. 

He wondered what her biggest fears were, where she grew up, what her favorite color was. He wanted to know when she learned to play, who taught her, her favorite song. Watching her concentrate on the cords, he wanted to know what made her her. What made her more than some makeup artist. He wanted to know her. 

Y/n shook her head, messing up a cord. It had been ages since the last time she’d played and clearly, she was a little rusty. She looked up from the guitar, going to rub the knot out of her neck when her eyes widened in surprise at the sight in front of her. “Saul.” She cleared her throat. “What are you doing here? Do you guys need me to do touch ups or something?”

He shook his head, hair bouncing about as a smile formed on his lips. “No, no. I was just passing by… I didn’t know you played.” He pointed at the instrument in her lap. “What song were you playing?”

Y/n’s cheeks heated up, embarrassed by the situation she found herself in, “Callin’ Baton Rouge.’ It’s by this country band, you probably wouldn’t know.”

“Your probably right, but I think you did the song justice.”

“I wouldn’t call it justice, it was really far from it.”

Saul looked at her in disbelief. “You may be out of practice, but that was amazing.”

She gave him a small smile and stood from the couch with the guitar in hand. “Maybe for an amateur it’s good, but I ain’t no rockstar.” She placed the instrument back in its case, latching it shut. “I’m not that good.” 

Y/n stepped back from the case, twisting her fingers around as she glanced up at him. Suddenly, the confidence that she always collected around him, around the band, was gone as she stood in front of him. She suddenly felt vulnerable, fully exposed as if she had been stripped naked. 

Silence filled the space between them, neither knew what to say.

“Uh… Well, I better get going,” Saul said, running a hand through his hair. He stopped when Y/n raised a disapproving brow. “See you before the show, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

He gave her a small smile before disappearing out of the bus.

Y/n was cemented in place as she watched him through the bus windows, her heart attempting to beat out of her chest and the room suddenly getting warmer. She wasn’t sure what was coming over her, but she knew it had everything to do with him.

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

(Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part and I’d love feedback.)

Permanent Taglist: @rexorangecouny @zestygingergirl @jennyggggrrr

[twonewkidsonesouthpark]

Chapter 3: A Class Act

So let me get this straight; we moved in during the most intensive, town wide, elementary school LARP session the world has ever known, you’re all fighting over a goddamn TREE BRANCH, and all of you seem to think that me and my sister are the same person. Oh, and also boys, point for mom and dad, I guess. Have I covered all of the craziness happening here or am I missing something?

Lynnea knew she wasn’t going to get an answer -- Kyle seemed like a nice enough kid, besides the whole ‘quasi-abducting her under false assumptions’ thing, but Alyssa was the only person who she could really ever communicate with. Came with the twin territory, she supposed. Or just being raised in the same weird way.

“So? Will you join us?”

Part of Lynn wanted to say no, wanted to just go home and finish unpacking and not get involved in this mess… but Kyle sounded so damn hopeful and…

...when was the last time she ever got to have fun like this? As her, not her-pretending-to-be-Lyssie-pretending-to-be-the-same-person. And... well, dad DID tell them to make friends…

Fuck it. For once in their lives, she was doing something she wanted to do.

Lynnea nodded.

Kyle grinned, “Awesome! Okay, so first things first, you can choose from a few classes,” Kyle told her, leading her over to the well labeled shop, “You can be a ranger like Stan, a warrior, a mage, a healer… you can’t be a Bard unless you know how to play an instrument, that’s why Jimmy’s the only one.”

Well, that’s right out then unless being able to play a really shitty recorder counts. Go back to that healer class, can I heal AND hit things or is it just one or the other? She picked up the healer headband and the sword, holding them both out toward Kyle quisitively.

“Dude, that’s not the warrior armor,” Stan says. Lynn gave him a flat look, gesturing again to both, and hoping this wasn’t about to turn into a frustratingly stupid game of charades --

Kyle tilted his head, eyes going from the headband to the sword before something seemed to click, “Oh! You want to heal and hit shit?”

Ding ding, we have a winner!

Kyle looked contemplative, “We don’t really have a class for that, but… hm,” he tapped his fingers against his opposite arm, “I think we can manage that. Cartman’s got Butters as a Paladin, but he made that class human only, so we’d need to think up a different name for it. What do you call a healer who hits things?”

“A really bad healer?” Stan offers up.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

Lynn tapped him on the shoulder, helpfully showing him her phone screen with the wikipedia page for Cleric opened up on it, I think THIS is what you’re looking for.

Kyle read it, then nodded after a minute, “Yeah, we can totally swing that. It’s… ugh, it’s essentially the...” he mumbled something under his breath, “Class.”

Lynn blinked, then tilted her head, putting a hand up to cup behind her ear, Wanna run that one by me again, I think I just SERIOUSLY misheard you.

“Ugghhhh, Cartman called it the Jew class, alright?” Kyle said, with an exasperated roll of his eyes, “Cleric’s a way better name, though, so that’s what we’re going with.”

Wow. Ooookay then.

“Yeah,” Kyle sighed, clearly seeing the shock on her face, “Right, let’s get you geared up.”

It was a little surprising to see just how MUCH stuff the shop had accumulated, and how creative the boys had gotten with their homemade weapons. Well, if a zombie apocalypse ever hits, these guys are set. It was a little annoying to have to spend her allowance for her ‘staff,’ though. At least Kyle gave her the armor set for free, mostly because they had to pick and choose pieces from their already established classes, and helped her get the fake pointed ears on.

“Just don’t futz with ‘em too much, we tried gluing them on but well -- a couple peoples’ moms got mad,” he shrugs. Lynn dropped her hand from where she was playing with her hair, trying to get it to settle around the pointy appendages, “Okay, so, we’ve got your class, your equipment… oh, right, add me on facebook so you can stay in contact,” Kyle said, “It’s how I usually give orders, Cartman keeps trying to assassinate me every time I leave my yard,” he rolls his eyes.

Oh. Thaaaaaat was going to be a problem…

Kyle raised an eyebrow at Lynn as she fidgeted awkwardly, “Dude, what? I know you’ve got a phone, what’s the issue?” Well yeah, her parents learned that lesson that their while daughters would concede to share many things - a room, clothes, an identity - a phone would not be one of them. It had only taken a few fights for them to cave and get a second phone. But only one of them had the Facebook app downloaded, and that phone? Was in Alyssa’s possession at the moment.

Sighing, Lynn pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it over to Kyle, who looked confused as he flipped through the screens, “...you don’t have Facebook?” He finally asked when he put two and two together.

Technically, no. But it’s not like I can explain that me and my twin sister have to share a facebook page that’s heavily monitored by our parents, sooo… Lynn took the phone back, opening up her contacts, and tapping the screen next to her parents’ cell numbers, “Ohhh. Overprotective parents?” Stan guessed.

Close enough, she nodded.

“W-well, we won’t t-t-tell if yyyyyou d-don’t,” Jimmy grinned. She gave him a flat look, and the grin dropped slightly, “S-ssorry. Sore sp-pot?” She shrugged, willing to let it slide. At least he apologized.

Then her phone wasn’t in her hands as Stan took it out of her grip, “Here. I’ll make you a Facebook page, that way your parents can’t get mad at you for doing it, right?”

I am pretty sure that is NOT how that works, Stan. But she didn’t try to grab it back, letting Stan fiddle with it.

“Dude, what do I put in for your name?” Stan asked, looking up at her, and Lynnea’s brain froze up. She couldn’t tell them her real name -- for a number of reasons, the current top of the list being they thought she was a guy.

“Well not his real name, obviously, if we don’t want his parents finding the page,” Kyle saves the day, “We do need to call you something, though. Unless you want to keep going by ‘New Kid’.”

Preferably not, but I can always change it later, right? She shrugged, motioning for the phone back. She’d send all the relevant people a friend request in a minute if they didn’t beat her to it, But first, let me take a selfie, she thought with an inward giggle as she held the camera up and snapped a picture. At least she didn’t feel too out of place as the friend requests flooded in -- it looked like all of the boys had their costumes on in their profile pics, at least for the moment.

It struck her, about then that, for the first time in possibly her whole life… she had friends. Friends that were hers, not hers and Lyssie’s. Lynn blinked rapidly -- she didn’t know MUCH about these guys, but crying in front of a bunch of boys probably wasn’t going to win her points. She shoved her phone in the pocket of her new robe, looking up at them.

So… now what?

‘Now what’ was apparently teaching her the rules of the game, and how to fight -- that one, at least, she already knew. She’d gotten into enough scuffles with Lyssie over their lives to know how to defend herself, at least. And that was without the solid, somewhat sharp metal rod she now had to hit people with. She also got the privilege of holding onto a slew of health and power ‘potions’ -- snacks. At least Kyle lent her a backpack for those.

“Now that you’re fully initiated into my army, I have your first task for you,” Kyle said, hopping back up into his throne once he felt she wouldn’t make a fucking fool out of herself, “The humans will stop at nothing to retrieve the stick, so we need to take it somewhere they won’t look. Stan, I want you and the New Kid to escort the Bard back to the Inn of the Giggling Donkey. Jimmy, I’m putting you in charge of guarding the stick. We’ll get our men set up inside to keep you safe.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” Jimmy and Stan said.

Kyle grabbed the stick off the arm of his throne, handing it over to Stan, who took it with a firm nod, “Guard it with your lives. The Grand Fatass canNOT get his hands on it again,” Kyle said, “Now, go! Before they have time to regroup.”

“C’mon, New Kid, we’ll show you around town while we head to Jimmy’s -- er, the Inn,” Stan said, tucking the stick in his belt and heading toward the back door. Jimmy followed after him, pausing to shake mud and grass off the ends of his crutches before going inside. Lynn practically bounced along behind them.

Maybe this move wasn’t going to be so shitty after all.

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

When You Least Expect It: Part Six

Jensen x Musician!Reader

Also featured this chapter: Jared Padalecki & Briana Buckmaster

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

A/N: This is a slow burn fic that I have been working on for a while. Its a story I wrote for myself and just wanted to share with everyone. Yes, the “Dee” in the story is who you think, but there is no intended hate on her or their actual marriage. It is a work of fiction, that is all. Part five is from BOTH POVs. There is also a playlist to go along with the series.  Series Playlist: “When You Least Expect It” (Spotify).

Beta’d by @closetspngirl​ who has contributed so much to this fic! Thank you for not only indulging my lunacy but encouraging it with gusto!

Chapter Summary: The fall out from New Year’s Eve isn’t exactly what Y/N had hoped for but after some counsel from a friend, she makes a rash decision that could either be the answer to her prayers or be the beginning of her nightmare.

Chapter Warnings: Angst (We’re sorry. Kinda.)

WC: 6.8K 

*Banner created by me; pics & gifs found online

Y/N barely remembered the ride home. She remembers Bri parking and walking her to the door, but the ride itself was a blur. She was sad and confused, but mostly angry with herself for running out on Jensen. She just kept thinking if they hadn’t stopped, if she would have just not been a hot mess for a second, she could have stayed, then he would be the one bringing her home.

“Come on, you go up and change, and I’ll make some tea.”

“Hm?” Y/N asked as Bri’s voice pulled her back from the dark winding alley of what if’s.

“Tea?”

“Oh, yeah. Help yourself. I have a bunch of different kinds in the cabinet,” she replied, vaguely pointing towards the kitchen.

“Ok,” Bri said, and guided her towards the stairs. “Go up and get comfy. If you got a pair of sweats I could borrow, I’d love ya forever. This dress is cute and all, but I believe the rest of the evening calls for comfort.”

“Bri, you don’t have to stay. I feel bad making you leave the party. I’m sure things were just getting started.”

Bri waved her off. “It’s fine. I’d much rather be on that couch over there talking to you with something warm and soothing than getting drunk and dealing with handsy men.”

“I thought you were married,” Y/N chuckled as she climbed the first two stairs.

“Who do you think I was talking about?”

Y/N laughed and kept climbing. “I’ll bring you down something.”

“Bless you!” Bri called after her before she disappeared to the second floor.

Y/N walked into the bedroom, her luggage still packed from her trip home; the clothes she wore on the plane still in a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed. The bags her dress and accessories had come in were in a crumpled pile in the middle of her comforter. Slowly, she unzipped the dress and laid on the chair in the corner of the room. One by one she removed all her jewelry, except the necklace Jensen had given her. For the second time that day she stared at her reflection and was disgusted with what she saw looking back.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” she asked herself softly. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see her face any longer, or the tear-streaked mascara that currently painted her cheeks. She concentrated on clothing, then found an extra pair of sweats and a T-shirt for Bri. The thought of the woman downstairs currently making tea made her feel a little better, and knowing she wouldn’t have to manage this night alone, helped to calm her nerves just a smidge.

When she returned back to the kitchen there were two mugs on the island, with tea bags ready for steeping. Y/N handed Bri the clothes and when she left to change, Y/N continued fixing the tea. She tried to just focus on that for the moment, and not the line of questions her brain wanted to throw at her. Y/N knew she’d be answering those exact questions from Bri any minute now, so why bother going through it twice?

“So much better, thank you,” Bri moaned as she came back into the kitchen. “This is a great place you got here.”

“Isn’t it? I told him it was too much house for me, but…”

“He insisted.”

“He did.”

“Of course, because that’s Jensen.”

“I know,” she sighed and stopped what she was doing to rest her hands on the edge of the counter, her head falling down to hang between her arms.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Bri said and was at her side with a hand gently laid on her back.

“You didn’t Bri. I’m just so mad at myself right now. You’re absolutely right. That’s just... Jensen. Generous and overly kind. He is one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met.”

“Agreed. So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the problem? I know I was sort of teasing you about it earlier, but I wasn’t kidding when I said I saw you two walk in. Anyone that looked at the two of you and thought you were just friends would be crazy to think that.”

“Or in denial,” she added, making Bri laugh.

“Or that.”

Y/N pushed off the counter and grabbed her mug. Bri followed suit as they transitioned to the living room and sat on opposite ends of the couch. Y/N sipped at her tea, and while it offered the calming comfort she needed, she still regretted that it wasn’t another shot of bourbon with Jensen at the bar.

“Seriously though,” Bri said after placing her tea on the end table. “What happened? I know we’re new friends, and I don’t want to be intrusive, but when you run out of a room like that, leaving a man that fine standing there with his heart in his hands… there’s gotta be a reason.”

Y/N was quiet. She could feel Bri’s eyes on her but kept hers cast down into the cup as if she was trying to read tea leaves.

When she did finally answer, her voice was raspy and small. “There’s a reason.”

“Do you want to--”

Y/N nodded. “It’s not a question of whether I want to talk about it or not, I think I need to. Especially to him… but where do I start?”

Bri considered this and shrugged. “The beginning?”

“Might as well,” she sighed. “But that level of… truth. That amount of vulnerability, how do I know I’m trusting the right person with it? How do I know that Jensen wouldn’t use it again me, or judge me, or--”

“Because that’s not Jensen. Honey, look…” Bri slid along the couch to get closer to her and rested a comforting hand on her knee. “We all have a past. We all have trauma and baggage… exes…”

Y/N’s head snapped up at this, confirming Bri’s already established suspicions on the reasoning for her quick departure.

Her voice was still barely above a whisper. “I know.”

“But,” Bri continued, “at some point, you have to realize that all that crap you carry along with you, is only going to weigh you down. It won’t let you actually rise up to experience better things. And, as far as knowing who you can trust, I think you already know he’s different. I think that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“You’re right… he is different. I know that. I’m just a fucking coward who doesn’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out. I know it’s not always as simple as follow your heart. Especially not when that heart has been pulled out, torn to shreds and glued back together with Elmer’s as I suspect yours has. So, before you make up your mind in any way, you need to figure out what’s most important. For you.”

Y/N sipped at her tea and was grateful for Bri’s sudden appearance in her life. There were a lot of things she was unsure about, and the way that Bri could offer counsel without judgment or telling her what to do was not only greatly appreciated, but much needed.  

“I will say one thing though,” Bri continued, and when she sat up straighter on the couch, Y/N worried for a moment that she was wrong and the barrage of judgment would begin. “I may not be as close to Jensen as say, Jared and Robbie, but I’ve gotten to know him well over the last couple years. That man is as genuine as they come. There’s not an ounce of pretension or malice in him. He’s been through it, too.”

“Dee?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, and others. I can see he likes you; everybody can see that he likes you. All I’m saying is, if he likes you, he means it. I doubt he would go above and beyond for just anyone. He’s had his walls up, too. So maybe, instead of second guessing yourselves, you both need to start taking those sledgehammers and do some work, hmm?”

Y/N knew Bri was right, she had a lot of work to do. The most important of which was to call Jensen and apologize. The problem with that was she wasn’t sure what else to say, other than she was sorry for leaving him the way she did. The same fears and concerns were still there, festering due to years and years of insecurity, distrust, and mistreatment. Her disappearing act was due more to herself than to Jensen, and he needed to know that; if he would even still talk to her.

“I should call him,” she said, more to herself, but Bri nodded along with her.

“Yes, you should.”

From the kitchen, the sound of Y/N’s cell phone ringing made them both sit up straighter and start laughing.

“Well, if that’s not perfect timing…” Bri giggled excitedly. “I bet it’s him calling to check on you!”

The thought made Y/N’s stomach both drop and flutter with excitement. She put her tea down and slowly walked into the kitchen, almost afraid to pick it up out of her purse and answer it. By the time her fingers were able to retrieve it from the bottom of her bag, it had stopped ringing. She brought it with her into the living room and once she was back on the couch, she felt brave enough to swipe up and see who it had been.

One Missed Call

One Missed Text

Y/N saw it wasn’t Jensen that had tried to reach her, but Nathan. If there was a word for the feeling of both being disappointed and relieved at the same time, she didn’t know what it was, but that’s exactly how she felt. She wouldn’t return the call, but she did read the text after she made sure her read receipts were turned off.

>>Sorry I called so late. I know you were at your work thing, just wanted to say Happy New Year. I hope this is the year we can find our way back to being friends again. Call me soon, ok?

“From Jensen?” Bri asked eagerly. “What did he say?”

“Not Jay, Nathan.”

“Nathan?”

“The ex.”

“Oohhh,” Bri said, elongating her response and leaned back into her corner of the couch. “So, the complication has a name.”

Y/N looked up at her and wasn’t sure how to answer. The longer she just looked at Bri and didn’t speak, the more she just wanted to cry. In the years since Nathan had left, many tears were spilled and at some point, she’d had enough. A switch was flipped in her, and she went from one extreme to another; having gone two years without one of her sobbing, snotting breakdowns. Now there was one lurking, she could feel it bubbling up from the depths of her heart; the parts she’d closed off to just about everyone. Sitting with a stranger, in a strange city wasn’t the best time for it, despite the fact that Bri was starting to feel like an old friend.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “He, uh… he just recently came back into my life and…” she didn’t know how to finish it because she thought her feelings about him had resolved. Clearly, she had been wrong. Nathan had been terrible to her in the last year they were together, but before that… there had been decades of good times. Could she really just walk away from all that? Nathan was one of the reasons that made her walk away from Jensen, she knew that. Now, Y/N needed to understand why Nathan was on her mind at all.

It wasn’t hard to sense that Y/N was going to open the flood gates, but Bri could also tell that it was hard for her to trust that she’d be safe enough too. Y/N’s eyes were brimming with tears and the way her bottom lip was quivering just trying to hold it in, broke Bri’s heart. She swung her legs to the floor and motioned for Y/N to come and sit closer beside her.

“Come on… you gotta let it out, honey.” Bri rested her arm along the back of the couch and watched as Y/N slowly moved along the couch and curled up in the crook of her arm. “Just let it go. And when it’s all out, we can talk about it, or not. But you can’t deal with anything until you just let it go.”

That’s just what she did. And when she was done, having soaked through part of her new friend’s shirt, Y/N fell asleep with a new understanding of what it means to truly be vulnerable.

The pain in Jensen’s head woke him before the afternoon sun did. There was no use in trying to remember how much he drank, just that it was somewhere in the vicinity of a bottle of bourbon and maybe a couple tequila shots for good measure. When he was finally able to command his body to move, he pushed himself up on his elbows and waited for the thumping in his brain to stop. Of course, it didn’t.

“Motherfucker…” he groaned, finally able to sit up a little more. Within minutes, he was fully sitting, knees pulled up and his arms around the loose sheet covering him. His chest was bare, and he could feel the linen against his thighs, telling him that he was sans pants, as well. Trying to remember how he ended up Jared’s guest room, he rested his forehead against his knee and left it there. He knew he had to keep moving towards getting up, dehydration was imminent, yet as much as he demanded his body to function it refused to listen.

A soft knock at the door was what finally got him to lift his head.

Thump, Thump, Thump…

“Yeah,” he called out, though his throat was too dry to give it any oomph. “Yeah!” he tried again, this time seeing the door crack open as he winced at the burn it caused.

“You decent?” Jared asked and paused before coming in any further.

“Am I ever?” he quipped and groaned again when Jared came all the way into the room.

“Nope. Here, I thought you could use this.” Jared offered a bottle of water which Jensen took gratefully. “You hit the bottle pretty hard last night, man. Surprised you’re upright, to be honest.”

“I am? Cause in my mind I’m still laying down and passed the fuck out…” He twisted off the cap and sipped at it slowly. He’d learned his lesson a long time ago about the benefits of slowly hydrating.

Jared waited for him finish his drink and rest back against the headboard. “So, wanna share as to why I found you in the game room with an empty bottle of Jim Beam?”

“Nope,” he said again and went back to the water.

“Alright, at least tell me if it has anything to do with why you were alone and not with Y/N?”

Jensen’s eyes looked up quickly, the movement of which made black spots appear behind them. He blinked them away and brought his fingers to his forehead. “Can you give me like ten minutes to just remember where I am before you start the Spanish Inquisition?”

Jared sighed heavily and knew that his friend was simply stalling. “Dude…”

“Fine. Yes, it has to do with her, alright?” Jensen replied sharply.

“What happened?”

“I just said I didn’t walk to talk about it.”

“If I were anyone else, you could get away with that. But I know you. If you don’t talk about it now, you’ll bury it and all that bullshit. Then it festers and you act like an ass. So, talk.”

Jensen picked his head up and glared at Jared. Of course, he wanted to bury it; he felt humiliated and angry. He didn’t want to admit to what happened, not because Jared would judge him, but because he didn’t want to acknowledge his own mistakes.

“Y/N and I kissed at midnight,” he said flatly.

“Ok, and?”

“It quickly got… heated.”

“Oh,” Jared breathed and sat on the edge of his guest room bed. “I see. And then?”

Jensen shrugged his entire face. “Briana walked in. Y/N got… I don’t know, spooked? Then she ran out. Last thing I remember is Gen popping in to say that Bri was going to take her home.”

Jared leaned towards Jensen and inhaled, scrunching his nose at the smell of liquor still oozing from his pores. “Then you hung out with Jim and... José, apparently.”

“I guess, yeah.”

Jared mulled everything over in his head, but couldn’t quite grasp it. “I have so many questions…” he said with a snort, but when he looked back at Jensen’s expression, his smile faded. “Are you alright?”

The question hit Jensen harder than he expected. Was he? No. Clearly not, if he proceeded to drink as much as he did after she left.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I am right now except hungover.”

“Did you try to call her? Text? Anything?”

“No. I didn’t know what to say.”

“How about, what the fuck?”

Jensen snorted a laugh. “That may not have gone over well.”

“Jay, she ran out on you for no reason--”

“I’m sure she had a reason,” Jensen interjected.

“I like Y/N, but, maybe trying to hook up with her now may not be the best idea,” Jared said carefully. He wanted to help his friend, but he also wouldn’t enable him to make stupid choices on a whim.

“It wasn’t planned, Jar. It was a New Year’s kiss. That’s all.” He was lying and he knew it. That was anything but just a New Year’s kiss. If Briana hadn’t walked in, he’s fairly certain the night would have taken a much different turn. Not that he blamed Bri, there was that pause right before she walked in where Y/N spoke his name…

‘The way she said it, Jesus Christ...’ he thought as he rolled his head back again and closed his eyes. Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and prayed for the pounding in his brain to stop. He just needed five minutes of quiet to think, but his relentless thoughts both of the pain, and how she felt pressed against him, wouldn’t be denied.

“That’s all?” Jared laughed sarcastically. “Ok, you keep telling yourself that, champ.”

“Bite me.”

“I’m not trying to be an asshole, I swear. But you’re my best friend and I’ve seen you go through a lot of bullshit because of a woman. I just don’t want to see it happen again, especially with some girl you barely know just because you’re lonely.”

“I’m not lonely,” Jensen bit back defensively, even though he was once again lying to Jared and himself. He could tell that Jared didn’t buy it anyway. “At least not like… all the time.”

“You work like a dog, travel constantly, go from one empty apartment to another. The only time you aren’t alone is when you’re working on set. That’s partly why you started this whole project, right? To not feel lonely after Dee left? But then I had other shit to do, so did Robbie and Jason…and it left you alone, all over again. Until you met Y/N.”

“So?”  he shrugged. He was starting to feel frustrated but didn’t want to take it out on Jared because his intentions were pure, even if they were annoying the shit out of him.

“So? Come on, man. Don’t be an ass. She’s gorgeous, she’s talented, she’s creative, smart and she’s just as wrapped up in the Brewfest as you are. How could you not want to take it further? Besides, be honest… how long has it been?”

“Since?”

Jared rolled his eyes and gave him the ‘give me a fucking break’, look. “You’re gonna make me say it? How long since you got laid?”

“Seriously?”

Jared nodded. “Yeah, seriously. I’m sure it’s been a while. Add that to the fact that you end up at a party with a pretty girl who looks at you like you hung the moon, then you have some drinks. Maybe she flirts with you a bit, makes you feel good. Oh, let’s not forget running into your ex, and then having said pretty girl stand up for you.”

“Oh shit… I forgot about that,” Jensen groaned. “What a fucking night…”

“My point is--”

“I get your point.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. Now shut up and let me die.” Jensen let his body slide down into the mattress and covered his face with the other pillow.

“I guess I’ve tortured you enough for now,” Jared said and patted his friend’s foot as he stood up from the bed. “We got food downstairs if you want. Gen and the kids are heading off to see a movie, but I’ll be down there if you want to talk, ok?”

“Mmmmm,” Jensen growled, and Jared took that to mean, ok.

When Jensen heard the door click softly, he moved the pillow off his face and sighed deeply. Exhaling the air slowly through his lips, he allowed his eyes to close again and conjure up Y/N’s image. He thought of how she looked when she threw the darts and then celebrated hitting the target. He remembered how her skin felt when his hand rested on her bare back, and the look in her (y/c) eyes right before he finally kissed her.

Despite the hangover and despair his body felt, he felt his cock twitch at the thought of kissing her again. He tried to make himself stop, but it replayed in his mind as if it were a movie on a screen. “Fuck,” he growled and forcibly pushed her from his mind as the disappointment set in that it all ended so suddenly.

Jensen threw off the covers angrily and stood up from the bed, waiting for his knees to lock and safely support his weight. On the floor to his right were the clothes he’d worn the night before. He picked them up and went to get dressed, but the second he pulled the shirt over his head, he got a lingering whiff of sandalwood and lilac… Her.

“FUCK!” he barked again and ran his hands through his hair then back down over his face.

There was so much to think about and consider; not just the things that Jared said, but the things Jensen knew to be true. Yes, he had been lonely, and yes, Dee had crushed him… but hadn’t he deserved that? He wasn’t an angel in their time together; not that he’d cheated on her or anything of the like. He had, however, been withholding sometimes; maybe treated her like she wasn’t as important to his life as she should have been. Yet, when Dee would ask him if he was happy, or if he wanted something different, he gave her the answer she wanted, not what he actually felt. When she finally left, it shattered him and he reveled in that guilt for months.

Was he doing the same thing with Y/N? Was he dragging her along in a different way? In one breath he had said that he was so focused on the festival, there wasn’t time for anything else. Yet in another, he was kissing her like she was his long lost lover who he’d just reunited with. Maybe it was better that she stopped it. But then again, if she hadn’t… maybe it could have been something great.

“You need to just fucking stop,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled his pants on and fastened the belt.

From the depths of his pocket, he could feel the vibration of his cell phone notification. Something there was waiting for him; a missed call from Y/N, perhaps? He dared not let himself linger on the tiny shred of hope he had at seeing her name there; he couldn’t hope for anything from or about her until he decided what he really wanted from Y/N. When he unlocked the screen and saw he had a text message waiting, he nervously hovered his finger over it. Finally finding the courage to press the little message icon, he exhaled shakily when her name was highlighted with a little “1” next to it.

>>Hey, any chance you’re free for coffee today? We should probably talk.

Jensen sat back on the bed and felt his stomach bottom out. He assumed this would be where she told him she couldn’t do the job anymore, or be around him, and was moving back to New Jersey. The thought of which churned his stomach more than the bourbon ever could. He didn’t want to see her yet, he couldn’t. He needed more time, he needed to be completely free of the hangover and regret that corrupted him at that moment.

He hit reply on the text and realized she had sent it more than a few hours ago. Trying to think of an excuse, he used Jared and the kids as his out.

<<Hey. I wish I could, because we probably do need to talk, but I can’t today. Promised Jar’s kids Uncle J would take them to a movie. Rain check?

He hit send, sat back on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut while waiting for her response. When none came within a few minutes, Jensen gathered the rest of his belongs and decided it was time to go home, shower, and figure out what the Hell he was doing.

Y/N sat on a stool at the island counter of her kitchen, letting her fingers toy with the string of the envelope tie. In the padded manilla package were half a dozen proposals to various schools around the city of Austin and several contracts that needed Jensen’s signature. It was the last bit of business they had conducted for the festival before winding down for the holidays. Now it sat in her hands, almost mocking her. She wanted to push it off the counter like a child having a tantrum, but she refrained. Instead, Y/N picked up the envelope and shook the papers just loose enough so they were sticking out of the opening. She pulled the top one out and looked at his signature on the bottom of the page and ran her finger over it lightly.

A myriad of thoughts raced through her mind, including Bri’s words from both the night before and that morning as she was on her way out of the door.

“Remember,” she had said, her sunglasses pulled down on her nose so she could stare Y/N in the eye, “Talk to the man. Explain why you left, even if you just do it for you. Don’t lie, don’t sugar coat it. Be real, raw and if you like the man, tell him.” She left then, but not before wrapping her arms around Y/N and squeezing her tightly and making her promise to call or text soon.

Y/N did what Bri suggested, and decided that she did want to just rip off the bandaid and talk to Jensen. She had to. Him, Austin, the job… it was completely unexpected, but now that it had been a major part of her life over the past couple months, she didn’t want to lose it. That meant allowing herself to be vulnerable and explain why she ran out the night before.

Problem was, he said he was busy. She had texted him that morning, hoping he would be quick to respond with a ‘Yes, let’s talk as soon as possible’, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, he told her he was taking Jared’s kids to the movies. It didn’t sit right with her. Y/N wanted to believe that she knew him, but that was one of the things she was unsure of… did she really know him?

“Uggghhh!” She let her forehead hit the counter and covered the back of her head with her hands. “I can’t take this shit,” she muttered.

Picking up her gaze, she remembered the notepad in the drawer and hopped off the stool to retrieve it. Before she could really think about it, she began to write. Biting down on her bottom lip, as she always did when nervous or deep in thought, her hand scribbled furiously until the stream of conscious writing blissfully came to an end.

Y/N laid down the pen, exhaled shakily, and began to read back what she wrote.

  Jay,

I really am sorry about last night. I want to explain what happened if you’ll let me. I know you were busy today, so maybe we can get together soon?

I am leaving this with the contracts at your place so you don’t have to wait until the start of business day tomorrow. I know you were anxious to get these off to the lawyer’s office ASAP. Things are really looking good to get these out with the information packets and in the mail to the various School Boards as well as the Texas Creative Arts Council. Everything’s moving forward nicely.

Hope you and the kids enjoyed the movie!

-Y/N

 “Well, it’s not poetry, but, its to the point. I guess…” she trailed off as she started to second guess herself, then shook it off and quickly shoved the note into the envelope, and finally sealed it. Grabbing her keys and purse, she left the townhouse and headed over to Jensen’s place, before she lost her nerve completely.

It wasn’t more than twenty minutes to get to Jensen’s house. She had been there a few times since moving to Austin, and luckily he had already added her to the gatehouse’s frequent visitor list. Y/N’s heart was pounding harder with every mile closer and by the time she parked her car in front of his house, it was damn near rattling in her rib cage. Once she climbed out and began walking up the path to the door, she froze. She had planned to just leave it between the screen and front doors since he was out with Jared’s kids, but when she saw his car parked in the driveway it hit her that he had lied about being free to talk.

Y/N got her feet moving again. In the mere seconds it took to reach the front door, she asked a thousand different questions…. Should she leave it and go? Should she knock and just give it to him? Should she, should she…

She wanted to scream, is what she wanted to do. She was angry and hurt, and was hoping that it was just a fluke.

He wasn’t supposed to be home! She thought. Was Bri wrong? Was I wrong? Is he just lying to avoid me?

She wanted to give him benefit of the doubt… was it good timing on her part, maybe? Did he stop here and then go in Jared’s car? Possible. She couldn’t shake the thought that he did lie and in her heart, she knew that would be the truth.

Y/N knocked on the wooden front door with one hand as she clutched the envelope to her chest with the other. She was gripping her keys so tight in her fist the metal was beginning to leave its imprint in her palm. It took less than a minute for her to hear the lock tumbler and to see the door open. Jensen stood before her, his hair soft and still a little damp from a shower, dressed in dark blue sweatpants and a white V-neck t-shirt. His feet were bare, and in one hand, he carried a bottle of water.

“How was the movie?” she asked flatly, still holding onto the envelope for dear life. It was her anchor in that moment, and she was afraid if she released the tension she held on it, she may lose it completely.

“I--we… Gen took them...” he swallowed hard and sighed. “I’m sorry. When I saw the text, I just wasn’t ready to talk.”

“That was all you had to say, Jensen! You didn’t have to make up some bullshit.” She tried to stay calm, but she could sense the hurt feelings rising fast.

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” he said. “I was hungover--”

“Just, stop. It’s fine. I just came to drop these off,” she paused, suddenly feeling the need to get away from him, and maybe Texas altogether. “I’m, uh, I’m gonna go back to Jersey for a while. This was the last few things we talked about before Christmas,” she pushed the envelope into his chest and released it, forcing him to take it or let it fall to the ground. She stepped back and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “I need to finish up some things back home and I can do whatever else needs to be done from there.”

“Wait, you’re leaving now? Why?” he asked incredulously, his brow furrowed in confusion. “You just got back.”

“To be honest, I cut that trip short to come back here for the party,” she replied, lifting her gaze to finally meet and hold his. “Since you’re not ready to talk about it, then, I think it’s just better if I go back for a while. We don’t have that meeting with the Texas Creative Arts Council until the end of January, so until then…”

Jensen frowned and slowly nodded his head, but not in any way that really agreed with her. Y/N could feel his growing frustration, in turn making her both sad and yet still defiant. It was something she had always done, and on more than one occasion it got her into trouble. There was a stubborn streak in her, that wouldn’t completely allow her to just stop a trainwreck conversation in progress. She was both the conductor and the passenger on a collision course of misunderstanding, yet still completely helpless to stop it from happening.

“Maybe that’s a good idea. I gotta leave for Vancouver anyway. Work and all.” His tongue rolled out over his top teeth and raked back into his mouth over bottom lip. Y/N had seen that gesture when he was trying to hold back his frustration, but it had never been at her before. “So, just text me if you need anything, or give Robbie a call.”

They stood there silently for less than ten seconds, but to each of them, it felt like an eternity in Hell.

If he had just said he didn’t want to talk, instead of a stupid, pointless fib about a movie…  she thought as she stood on his porch, still gripping her keys far too tight. If you had just stayed, last night… her heart countered. Her stomach fell, and she just needed to get away.

“I’ll text you anything important,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, ok,” he replied, but it came out garbled and rough. She couldn’t tell if this change in his inflection was due to disappointment, anger or both, but she hated it.

Not knowing what to do, she just stood there, waiting for him to say something more. Had she blown it all already? She could recant, say she would stay, and please could things go back to how they were? But after what happened the night before, not just her running out, but the kiss, Dear God, that fucking kiss, she thought… that kiss changed everything.

Maybe going home would be a good thing. She could go out onto the beach, watch the sunrise, and let her toes reconnect with the cold grains of sand; they were always able to ground her when she needed it. So much had happened in twenty-four hours, hell in the last week, that her head was reeling, her heart was hurting, and her feelings were a fucking mess.

“Alright then, well, I guess--uh--have a safe trip back to Vancouver, Jensen,” she said, unable to withstand the silence any longer. She turned to go, not wanting to wait for a response. He could’ve called out to her, called her back, told her to travel safe, but he didn’t. In her current state, Y/N continued to let the doubts, insecurities, and fears that had followed her around most of her life win out, as they continued to drive her away from Jensen, his house, and his city.

It cost a good size chunk of her savings, but Y/N found a flight that landed in Newark around midnight that evening. She had to move heaven and earth to get a seat on the flight that took her from Austin to North Jersey, and then at least an hour wait for a rental car. The drive itself put her pulling onto the dirt lane of her bungalow at almost three in the morning. Even as her tired, heavy eyes begged for sleep, the rest of her felt exhilarated by the smell of the salty air. It didn’t matter that she had just been here two days before, the feeling of walking up to the front door where she had spent all of her life was calming and much needed.

Y/N dropped her one carryon bag onto the couch and pulled her phone from her pocket. There had been a few notifications she ignored while driving and wanted to check them before she went down the hallway and fell onto her bed.

The first was a missed text message from Bri.

>>Well, what happened?! Did you get to talk to him?

The next was a missed call from an unknown number, but it had an area code that was local to Seaside. Ignoring that for the time being, she checked the last notification… this time it was from Jensen. She paused before hitting the little envelope on the screen, petrified of what it may say. Before New Year’s Eve, she would have been excited to open it, but now a feeling of dread washed over, making her worry that maybe he was texting to tell her to forget about the job after all, and she could just stay where she was.

>>I hope you landed and made it home okay. Can you just text me and let me know you made it safely?

Y/N went to the couch and fell onto it, using her carry on as an armrest, she put her elbow on it and rested her head against her hand. The phone was still in her other hand, and she absently scrolled through a bunch of text message exchanges she had with Jensen since first meeting him in October.

>>Hey Trix, I lost my copy of the grant proposal for the TCAC, any chance you got another laying around?

<<Only if you ask nicely.

>>Hey, I’m always nice.

<<Sure, when you want something ;)

>>.... So?

-----------

<<Dammit Jensen! I told you to wait for me. You suck. How could you go to Salty Sow without me? I thought we had something…

>>No one told you to spend three hours in the bookstore. A man needs to eat.

<<... Fine. Guess I’ll just order pizza like a college freshman...

>>Nom, Nom, baby.

<<I hate you. You owe me a Sow burger.

>>Deal.

-----------

>>Still up?

<<Nope.

>>.......

<<What? I’m half asleep. That counts.

>>Just wanted to say tonight was fun.

<<It was! I’m surprised. Never thought I’d be able to line dance.

>>You did great. We should go again when we aren’t scouting for bands. If you’re gonna be in Texas a while…

<<Only on one condition…

>>Yeah, anything

<<This summer you let me teach you how to surf.

>>Like in the ocean? With sharks?

<<Coward.

 Y/N inhaled slowly and held onto the breath as she finally looked away from the screen. She thought about the messages, and then that last interaction she had with Jensen. She dared to let herself even think about the kiss they shared on New Year’s Eve. It did nothing more than add to the confusion she carried in conjunction with his name. The whole night, including her talk with Bri, the text from Nathan, all of it left her completely unsure of what was right, wrong, up or down. She needed to clear her head, figure out what came next.

Bri’s words rang loudly in her ear, “...before you make up your mind in any way, you need to figure out what’s most important. For you.”

With that, and despite the very late, or early hour, depending on how you looked at it, Y/N closed the messaging app and went to the recent calls to find who she was looking for.

Hitting call next to their name, she waited anxiously for the phone to stop ringing, and an answer on the other end. One ring later, she could hear someone fumbling the cell and waited for the raspy greeting she was bound to get.

“Hey? Hel--hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” she said, trying to sound relatively awake for three a.m. “Sorry to wake you.”

“No, no, you’re fine. What’s up, Y/N?” he asked, surprised to hear her voice.

“I was thinking… maybe it’s time to talk.”

“Now? Over the phone? Is that a good idea?”

“Well, I had a change of plans and I’m actually back in town. Thought maybe we could go have coffee tomorrow or something?”

“Seriously?” he asked, even more, surprised at that, then at hearing her voice at all.

“Yeah. I think Harry’s is open. Say around eleven?”

“Yeah… that would be great, Y/N. I’d love that.”

“Ok, awesome. Well, back to sleep, sorry I woke you. I’ll see you later today, Nathan.”

She ended the call and settled back into the comfort of her couch. Y/N closed her tired eyes and tried not to think anymore that day. Not about Jensen. Not about Nate. Not about anything, then the sound of the ocean waves off in the distance.

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[titriwrites]

Polaroid Picture -- Chapter Eight

Here will be sexytimes. If you don't want to read it, I'll mark it with ***. And now, enjoy, under the cut or here on AO3.

Beth paces her little kitchen as she waits for her – what is it now? – fourth cup of coffee to brew.

She hasn’t slept at all, except for maybe dozing off a few minutes here and there. But every time she closed her eyes, she could hear the shouts of her name – last and first – in front of her door.

They weren’t really there of course. Well, at least they didn’t really shout, Beth thinks. It’s not like she’s checked. She’ll find out soon enough, though, because how else is she going to get to work?

But it’s not the only reason, she hasn’t slept. Tom called. Sometime in the middle of the night he was on the phone, making excuses why he couldn’t come over and speak face to face.

Beth understands. She really does, because of course he shouldn’t be seen at her front door right now. Don’t add fuel to the fire. But he called. And he made it very clear that they would find out, who was behind this. Who couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Also, he – and his publicist apparently – were very sure it was someone from their circle. Someone not as trustworthy as they – Beth knows they mean ‘her’ really – may think.

But she refuses to believe that. It can’t be their friends. They’ve known them for so long. They wouldn’t do that to them. To her. She tried to say that to Tom, but of course he wouldn’t listen.

She paces some more, until her phone rings. When she answers, Beth is immediately greeted with a – slightly hysterically – female voice. “Beth, I am so sorry!”

She frowns. Is that Linda from across the street? The one who bought her family's house? “Linda?” Beth asks, just to be sure. Because why should she be sorry? If someone should be apologising right now, it’s Beth for all the commotion on the street.

“Yes. Right. Sorry. It’s Linda. I’m so sorry.”

Before Beth can really ask why, Linda starts explaining. Beth hasn’t read any articles and Tom has yet to call back, so she's apparently not up to date. The media runs the story of how they’ve found out. Linda's little daughter opened the door when Tom first came to the house when he thought it was still the Lucas' place. It had taken Linda awhile, but when her daughter asked, if that was Loki at the door, she'd known she recognised him.

Apparently, Linda's daughter likes to talk. Not to just anyone, but to her 13-year-old cousin living in the south of England. And that cousin is very excited when it comes to Tom. So excited in fact, that she posted on Twitter that Tom is visiting Oxford. Visiting her aunt's neighbour. With tags. And apparently, so called journalists are better at reading than they’re at writing.

Beth suspects that from then on it was only a matter of research to find out exactly who is living in that house. Probably it must have also been easy to find out there is more than one person called ‘Hiddleston’ in town.

It’s a mess. Beth knows that. A mess, far from perfect, but by no means as bad and as backstabbing as Tom made it seem.

When they hang up, Linda saying sorry at least three more times, Beth glances at the clock, realising with a start that she now has to face the crowds outside.

She pours the coffee in her to-go-cup, grabs her bag with her washed work clothes, takes one last deep breath and leaves her flat. She waits another few minutes in the downstairs hallway, sending a silent apology to the neighbourhood for probably causing another scene, and leaves the house.

It’s not as bad as she thought. There aren’t as many paparazzi as yesterday evening. Most of them probably already got their golden shot of Tom Hiddleston's wife and come back later. Not that Beth knows anything about that.

However, as she starts her walk, there are still more than enough men for her liking, shouting after her, walking on the other side of the street. Some even run to get ahead of her, taking shots from the front. Never in her life Beth felt like the Duchess of Cambridge when she still was Kate Middleton. All those pictures from years ago when she dated the prince.

Well, she’d gladly take the prince now.

To keep herself busy, Beth takes out her phone, dialling the first person that comes to mind. Liesa always knows how to cheer her up, is the only one up at this time of day, and knows the backstory.

“Oh, goodness, Beth. I am so sorry.”

“Huh?” This is getting weirder and weirder today. “What for?”

There's a slight hesitation on the other end of the line, and Beth fears what might come next. “I just found out today, and I’m so sorry I posted that picture without checking it first. I deleted it now. But I guess it’s too late.”

Beth forces herself to walk on. “Can you explain please?” she whispers harshly, trying to keep the frown off her face. “Because I have no idea what’s going on except a bunch of idiots following me to work and my neighbour apologising to me as well.”

“You... haven’t seen?”

“Apparently, I haven’t.”

“I posted a picture from our night at the pub on Instagram. I didn’t even worry about the account not being private,” Liesa starts her story. At least Beth now has something else to focus on instead of those men walking with her. “Tom was in the background. Drinking and laughing. Someone recognised him. And of course I tagged the pub. They must have gone through my followers and found you. I’m so sorry, Beth.”

Now, she does stop walking. “Liesa, it’s not your fault. This is all a horrible mess, and a series of mistakes.”

She truly believes that. And what would change anyway? If anyone else was to really blame? She’d still be shouted at, they’d still know all about this. She wasn’t tagged on Instagram, she's not on there with her last name – obviously – and her account is set on private. There's nothing more they can do.

“Still. I feel so horrible.”

Beth sighs as she finally reaches her work place. “Me too. Really, me too.”

___

She has a day from hell. It’s not like she expected it to be great, she’s been prepared for it to be horrible. But Beth hasn't thought about just how bad it would be.

The mothers-to-be have been staring at her all day. Her colleagues have been staring too, until she’s told them – rather passionately – that she's still the same person.

And when she's managed that, the other problem occurred during lunch time. Sure, she would be chased. So, she stayed inside. What she didn’t think about however, was those paparazzi harassing her co-workers. She got the most angry looks when they came back from lunch, having hundreds of questions shouted at them. Beth apologised then.

She was still told to maybe take the day off, and not come back for the Friday as well. And that somebody else would be on call on the weekend.

So, she’s calling a cab now – there’s no way she's walking through those crowds again – and hurries downstairs and into the car. After the shortest car drive she's ever experienced, she’s back in her flat, closing the door behind her, locking it twice.

Beth is exhausted. She would also kill for a vodka right about now. But as it is, it’s not even 3 on a Thursday afternoon, and she shouldn’t drink now. Instead, she takes off her shoes, dresses in her sweatpants and a t-shirt and turns on the TV. Mindless afternoon television. That’s what she needs now.

She almost shrieks as her phone rings in her bag, she’s just so lost in her thoughts. Not the tv, she can’t focus on that.

Beth doesn’t want to talk. Not to anyone. She doesn’t want this day to get any worse. But her phone – that shrilling sound of her phone – annoys her to no end. So, she stands up, gets her phone and checks the display. She doesn’t know the number, but it’s an American area code. The same one as yesterday, she realises after a few seconds. As soon as she picks up, Tom’s voice greets her.

“Open the door for me?”

“What?” What is he doing here? Why should she open the door? She can’t. There are paparazzi all over the place. Why would Tom be so stupid to even show up here? Where are those advisors of his? “Tom, you can’t come here!”

“I’m already there,” he answers. “At the backdoor. They haven’t seen me yet. So, please. Open up.”

Beth is torn. She really wants to be alone. But goodness, wouldn’t it just feel cathartic to have someone to yell at? Yes. That’s what she's going to do. Let it out.

So, without answering, but hanging up instead, Beth unlocks her door and rushes downstairs. Tom’s at the backdoor just as he said.

He’s pacing almost, looking frantic. “Oh, thank god,” he says and rushes past Beth. “I hoped they wouldn’t go to the back.” Without waiting, he walks upstairs. “Put on your shoes, yeah? We’re going to go for a little walk.”

Well. So much for yelling. Instead, she goes after Tom back to her flat, closing and locking the door again.

“What... how? Why?”

“I came through the fields. That hasn’t changed much, has it? Still by far not the closest way to get to you, especially now since you live on the other side of that fucking street, but still an effective way to not be seen.”

He’s grinning at her now. It’s not that horrible, smug, “look at me, I’m better than you"-smile he’s sported since he got here. It’s an honest Tom smile. One she's seen last before he even left for Hollywood. She likes that smile.

“I still don’t understand.”

“You need to get out of this house. I’ve seen the pics. Brian sent me links. This is all a massive fuck-up, but you need to get out of here.”

Beth shakes her head in disbelieve. Where does this come from? Why is he being so... nice?

It must show on her face, because now Tom huffs. “I know I haven’t been exactly nice. But this is the last thing I’ve ever wanted for you, Libby. You didn’t want a Hollywood life. And I brought it here. I’m sorry for that, I truly am. And I know I’m waiting for this divorce, I know we’re not exactly married in the traditional sense. But I am your husband, I brought this to you, and I’m going to make you feel better today.”

She’s stunned. Beyond stunned. “You don’t have to protect me,” is what Beth comes up with.

“Believe me. I know. I know you’ve changed, I know you’ve always been strong. But I feel guilty. Let me help.”

So, that’s what this is about? “You want to feel better about it?” Tom actually flinches at that. “And how is this your fault anyway? I thought this horrible town with its avaricious habitants is to blame?”

“Brian traced everything back. We know how this developed, it was...”

Beth stops him. “I know. I know. Everyone called me. Seems like honest people are worth just as much as a good PR-person is.”

Another flinch. “Seems so,” is all he answers. “Will you let me help you?”

She shrugs. It can’t get worse than this, right? And she also still needs to yell at him.

Beth turns and before Tom can protest, she grabs her pair of sneakers and puts them on. She leaves her mobile where it is, grabs a hoodie and her keys. “Lead the way then.”

___

Tom feels horrible. He hasn’t slept all night, there are paparazzi everywhere, in front of James’ house, in front of Libby’s house and her work, as well as following him as soon as he leaves the house.

He’s been on the phone with Brian on and off. Brian was also the one who found out about tagged pictures and tweets. Okay, so Tom was wrong. Nobody in town really talked. It’s just what modern life is like now. People with phones and social media are everywhere.

The media reaction is actually not that bad. Not as bad as it could be, at least. Sure, they’re all wondering, asking themselves how Tom could hide a wife. But Brian prepared a statement that’s been released just about an hour ago, to make it to the American news in time. Yes, a wife. Soon-to-be ex-wife. They’ve been separated even before Tom left for Hollywood, they’ve always been good, he never cheated – he really never did that.

And of course, Julia knows about this. Always has. Just because the media doesn’t know, it doesn’t mean it's secret. Julia will even be at some kind of event tonight. Smiling for the cameras.

They move quietly, Libby following behind him. It’s a path that hasn’t changed in the past years. It still winds through the fields until the old barn comes into view. Thankfully, because Tom hasn’t been sure it still exists.

“Tom, why?” Libby asks from behind. Before he can turn around, she continues. “Why all those fucking memories?”

Tom feels his shoulders drop. This is a bad idea, isn’t it? “Sorry,” he mumbles. “You always felt good here.”

“When we were children.”

Still, she doesn’t stop, Tom can still hear her steps as they get closer. He smiles to himself. Yes, she’s still stubborn. But she's also still as curious as she used to be.

“And a bit more grown up as well, if I remember correctly.” Tom still doesn’t turn around. There's no need to. He can almost feel the blush radiating from Libby.

“Shut up,” she mumbles.

He laughs, the first real one since he’s got here. At Libby's slap against his back from behind, Tom chuckles. “Sorry.”

He opens the door for her. It doesn’t smell as good as it did all those years ago, but it seems as there are still children playing in here every now and then. The roof seems to be fine, no puddles forming anywhere. There even are some blankets lying around.

“Looks nice,” Libby comments. “Not as nice as before obviously. But not bad.”

Tom nudges her shoulder. “Not everyone can be as good as decorating as we were.”

“You mean I was good at it. You just came in here and brought the food.”

“The cake from my mum.”

She chuckles and he’s basking in it. He made her chuckle.

“That was always tasty.”

They both don't say much more for the next couple of minutes. Libby studies the wood and the blankets, and looks out of the windows.

Tom studies her. She hasn’t changed that much actually. Maybe she looks a bit surer of herself. A bit more grown. But maybe he’s also just so used to seeing her. They’ve been together almost everyday for more than ten years after all.

“Tell me about you.” It’s out before he’s even really thought about it. But it’s true. Maybe it’s his protective strike. Maybe he feels guilty. Not maybe. He’s definitely feeling guilty. And it’s not just guilt for coming here just out of the blue. Or for her to have what must be a horrible day as well. He also feels guilty for never actually giving them both the chance to say goodbye. God, they wouldn’t be here, if he just had said goodbye.

“What?” Libby turns from the window to meet his gaze. “You’ve known me for almost 25 years. You know everything about me.”

“Maybe I did. But I didn’t pay much attention to you the past years, did I?”

She shakes her head a bit, but eventually sits down on one of the blankets, allowing Tom to take a seat next to her.

And then she talks. They talk. Libby tells him about her parents, how they both died, and how Matt and her didn’t know what to do with themselves. Tom feels like he’s missing them too, which he does. It’s his own fault, he knows that. He knows a lot of things, sitting here next to the girl – woman – he used to love, in a small barn. It’s much easier to know all those things here than when he lives his life in the U.S. with everyone telling him what a nice, good and lovely golden boy he is.

Libby also tells him about her work, about how she helps women to become mothers and little families to settle down with their babies. She tells him about how she still loves to read and how she discusses books and plays – she likes to go to the theatre in London – with James. She's also still meeting their old friends, not just here, but in London as well. Tom knows that, after all they seemed more than comfortable together in the pub. They had a beautiful, happy life, hadn’t they?, she asks at one point. Yes. Yes, they had.

But Libby also understands Tom following his dream. He’s stunned at that. Back then it felt – and he’s not proud of that – as if she wanted to hold him back. She didn’t want to come with him. She wanted him back in London. Where her life was, not his dreams.

She agrees with him. Not that she wanted to hold him back, but that she and him wouldn't have been happy together at that time. They wanted different things, and one of them would have been unhappy.

Libby huffs at that again. Weren’t they both unhappy then anyway? Yeah. He has to agree with that.

And then Libby looks at him and there are tears in her eyes. Shit. He can’t see her cry. Never could.

So, Tom rubs her cheek with his thumb. “Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

She just shakes her head and looks down. “It’s okay now.”

But it doesn’t seem to be, because she’s still crying. Tom feels like crying too. The first real conversation since he’s left six years ago, and he makes her cry. Back then, whenever they saw each other again after he came back from filming Wallander or a movie with Joanna, they would hug and kiss and – Tom is the one blushing now – have sex, losing themselves in each other.

So, Tom does what he knows, lets his body react and hugs her.

Libby’s stiff in his arms, but then he can feel her inhale sharply and then melt into him.

Eventually, she looks up at him. She’s so close. She still smells the same. They’ve never said goodbye, they didn’t know their last time was their last time. They never got the chance to kiss anymore. It’s his fault. He knows that. Those are the thoughts running through Tom’s head. And before he knows what he’s doing, he leans closer.

She mumbles, “Tom,” but doesn’t stop him. She still tastes the same as well. Her lips are a little salty from her tears, but she does taste the same.

***

Libby feels the same too, when she sits up a little, only to straddle him. Her hips are a little rounder as Tom holds her. Her breasts are a bit bigger as well. She still sounds the same, Tom thinks.

And then there isn’t much thinking anymore, just feeling. The feeling of their bodies moving together, grinding. The feeling of fumbling hands and hot breaths, tearing clothes away and nibbling on lips.

Somehow they’re not just moving together, but also lie down, Libby on top of him. They shed sweatpants and jeans and eventually underwear.

Tom groans as he feels Libby’s soft skin against him, her wet core against his thigh. She moves against him and screams out as he uses a finger to find the soft spot inside of her. He adds another finger when she clenches down on him, rubbing with his thumb in time with his movements inside of her.

Libby’s silent when she comes, but bites his shoulder, making him moan in turn and her chuckle breathlessly.

The chuckle turns into a groan, when Tom turns them around on the hard floor only covered by a blanket.

“Are you...?”

“I’m clean,” she whispers and digs her fingers into his shoulders. “And on the pill.”

It’s all Tom needs to know – at the moment at least. He enters her, both of them breathless now. He can’t move. This will be over when he moves.

But Libby still knows what to do, what buttons to press. One hand moves to his shoulder blade, fingers scratching slightly. The fingers of her other hand curl in his hair.

And then he moves. They move. Together. Tom can feel the sweat building, sees it on Libby’s face. When she can’t seem to hold open her eyes anymore, he shuts his as well. There's a pleasure building in his lower body, he can feel himself stiffening. So, he reaches for Libby's soft spot between their bodies blindly, rubbing again. When she moans and clenches, Tom lets go as well. It’s lights and then it’s all black. He can hear his and Libby’s panting, then he rolls over. What...

***

“What the hell?” she asks.

Yes. That.

Tagging @devikafernando @itsliterallythis @justthelosersblog @avenger-nerd-mom @archy3001 @nuggsmum @majk78 @hakimo2015 @noplacelikehome77 @theheartofpenelope

[heyyyharry]

In Another Life Series: Chapter 4 - The One He Loved

…in which heartbroken Harry and his assistant Y/N disappear for a day.

Series description: Y/N and Harry are soulmates and destined to meet in every lifetime, but no matter how many times they reincarnate and find each other again, they never seem to get it right.

AU: reincarnation, soulmate!harry, prince!harry, assistant!y/n, witch!y/n.

This is the longest chapter so far. I chose the name Ann for Y/N in her past life because I’m obsessed with Anne Boleyn (what a queen!). And the truth is I know nothing about palmistry, I learnt a little bit from my friend, that is all, sorry if I offend anyone with historical inaccuracies as well as the palmistry thing haha. 

By the way, the part in italic happened in their past life.

Chapter 3 - The Girl In Black: Y/N’s first day at work is a mess, and Harry’s relationship is not any better.

.

Y/N had never thought one day this would happen — Harry Styles asked her to take him to her flat. Well, she didn’t exactly expect to be his personal assistant but apparently anything was possible nowadays.

“I want to go somewhere I could hide, just for now at least,” he said as soon as they got out of the lift.

“Hide from whom?” She asked, and he answered with nothing but a single smile.

Y/N pulled out the key to her flat and opened the door, apologizing beforehand if her place was too messy. Her flatmate Lisa and her weren’t like pigs or anything, but the clothes on this man probably was worth more than everything in her flat combined. He obviously lived a much different life than this.

“Cool place!” Harry’s comment surprised Y/N as they both entered her humble flat.

“Thanks…I think it’s kind of terrible but—”

“It’s cute, I like it.” Harry shrugged with a tiny smirk on his face.

All of a sudden, her friend Lisa burst through the bathroom door, then instantly froze the very second she noticed there was a stranger in her shared flat. It shocked her even more to see it wasn’t just any man. 

It was Harry Styles.

Lisa secretly thanked God for letting her put on clothes before she got out of the shower. She would’ve dug herself a hole had she walked out here all naked in front of this man.

“Harry, this is my flatmate/best friend Lisa. Lisa, this is—“

“Harry Styles!” Lisa quickly walked over to Harry and shook his hand with too much energy it wowed him a little bit. However, it wasn’t the first time he’d met a fan like her. It was just like any other day in the life of Harry Styles.

“Hi there, nice to meet you.” He gave her a charming smile which never failed to make the girls swoon and melt at his feet. “I hope it’s okay if I can stay here for a while.”

“Oh stay! You can just move in, I don’t mind at all!”

“Lisa!” Y/N nudged her friend who quickly covered her mouth, making Harry laugh.

“Thank you ladies,” he said to both of the girls.

“You don’t need to thank us,” replied Lisa. “I’m really sorry about your girlfriend, I used to be one of her fans but I unstanned her the moment I saw those pics!”

Harry’s eyes turned to the floor awkwardly whereas Y/N was just utter confused.

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“Haven’t you checked Twitter and Instagram this morning?” Lisa continued because she didn’t see the look on their celebrity guest’s face. “Lillie Xander was caught kissing another guy! That little cheater! I can’t believe I was obses—”

“Lisa, enough,” Y/N interrupted her older friend then quickly turned to her boss. “I’m really sorry, Lisa was just—“

“It’s okay. I’m okay, thank you Lisa…I just don’t want to talk about this now.”

“Okay, got it!” Lisa gave him two thumb-ups then took a step backward as soon as Y/N gave her a not so pleasant stare. 

“I’ve got stuff to do in the bedroom. You two carry on with your conversation yeah?” She announced then quickly walked away.

When the door was finally closed and she was out of sigh, Y/N released the longest sigh ever, which revived the smile on Harry’s face.

“I’m sorry about her, she can be overwhelming sometimes.”

“That’s why she’s living with you. You tone her down.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at his unexpected comment. “Really? You think so?”

“I don’t know, talking to you makes me feel calm so it probably works with her as well.” He shrugged, grinning widely. “I’m glad I picked you.”

“You picked me? Not Jeff?”

“It was rather random.”

“Random?”

“I’ll tell you another time. Mind showing me around your home?” Harry questioned as he walked on, Y/N hurriedly followed just to make sure he didn’t find anything he wasn’t supposed to by accident. Harry stopped to admire some paintings on the wall and looking at him now started to evoke some of Y/N’s memories.

“Uh—Not really a home, just a flat.”

“Anywhere can be home as long as you feel safe there,” he spoke softly then turned around to face her. Their eyes met again, and this time, it finally occurred to Y/N where she’d seen those green eyes before. 

The painting in the museum.

“Why are you staring? Is everything alright?” Harry asked in confusion as he touched his face in fear he’d got something on it.

“Actually, has anyone told you—“

The sentence was forever left finished on Y/N’s lips when a surprise guest burst through the front door unannounced.

“Jason?!” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as she stormed towards her friend, finger pointing straight outside. “Get out.”

“No, wait, I need to talk to you!” He pleaded when she grabbed his arm to force him out of her flat, but he refused to comply.

“Seriously, you can’t avoid me forever!”

“I can and I will!”

Jason tugged his arm away from Y/N’s grip, causing the girl to lose her balance all of a sudden and fall down on her butt on the wooden floor! Both Jason and Harry rushed to her side but Harry got a hold of her first.

“Hey, don’t touch her!” Harry held up one hand to warn the younger man as he helped Y/N stand up with the other. 

A bit frightened, Jason took a step back. Being intimidated by the stranger in his best friend’s flat was one thing, but the thought of him hurting her scared him more than that.

“It’s okay, Harry, he didn’t push me,” Y/N clarified and withdrew her hand from Harry’s. “He’s my friend.”

“Who’s this guy?” Jason asked in confusion, pointing at Harry, who shot him a loathing look in return.

“This is my new boss, Harry Styles. Harry, this is Jason.”

“Oh you’ve got a new job! Amazing!” Jason cheers as he grabs Harry’s hand with both of his, giving it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you Mr. Styles. So what’s the name of your company?”

Noticing the puzzled look on Harry’s face, Y/N breathed out a slight laugh. “Forgive Jason, he doesn’t know any celebrity who’s still alive.”

“Wait, he’s a celebrity?” Jason raised an eyebrow at Y/N, who did the same expression back without providing him with any further explanation.

“Jason, leave, I don’t want to talk to you right now,” she demanded, making the poor guy frown.

“I miss us hanging out, Y/N.”

“You should’ve thought of that when you tried to kiss me.”

Harry widened his eyes now that he understood why his assistant was so against seeing the person she called her friend. However, he stayed silent because it was none of his business anyway.

“What should I do to make you forgive me?” Jason hopelessly begged with his hands clasped in front of his chest. That still didn’t seem to work because her expression remained the same.

“You can start by leaving me alone for now,” Y/N asserted but Jason’s feet were rooted to the spot, he wasn’t going to move. That left the girl no choice but to reach for Harry’s arm as she suggested, “let’s go somewhere else.”

“But—“ Jason stuttered when the pair walked right past him and straight out of the door. He called out her name but she didn’t take one look back, and that was how he knew he had really messed up this time.

When those two had already left, something suddenly occurred to Jason. He stood there, staring blankly at the opened door for a few seconds, then started to wonder, “have I seen that guy before?”

…

“Stay sill! Don’t move!” The peasant girl scolded the Prince when he tried to shrug her hand away from his wounded leg. He’d got this injury from falling down the hole in the woods but it hadn’t hurt as much back then because he’d been more worried about him dying.

“Just leave it, I’ve got plenty of good physicians back at Court,” he said, staring at her, but she didn’t return the look. The girl was too busy examining the wound, and Edward thought in the dim candlelight in this small cottage, she looked breathtaking somehow. He had plenty of beautiful women at Court who would do anything for him, still he’d never felt this way when he looked at them.

“Why would the future King of England be wandering in the woods alone at night?” Her voice pulled him out of his piles of thoughts as she laid her palm flat gently on the deep cut just above his ankle. Edward hissed in pain, however, for some reasons he trusted her with whatever she was trying to do.

“Uhm…I ran away.”

“Why?” She looked at him, confused. She just couldn’t understand why someone who’d been born with royal blood running in his veins could even think about escaping that luxury life and risk putting himself in danger.

“I’m engaged to a girl whom I’ve never met before.”

“Is she a princess?”

“Yes, a very beautiful princess. People call her the French Rose because of her beauty.”

“Then why are you complaining?” The girl shook her head and exhaled a snort.

“I…didn’t want to have the same marriage as my parents. They’re not happy nor in love. 

“‘Didn’t’? So you’ve changed your mind then?”

Edward pressed his lips together and nodded slightly. “I got a lot of time in that hole to think about my future. Maybe people like me aren’t allowed to fall in love and that my duty is to protect the throne, not run away from it. That’s why I intended to return to the castle but my horse got scared by thunder and left me behind.” 

“I see…”

Silence, once again, drowned out the two lonely people in the small cottage. The girl closed her eyes, hand still cupping the wound, lips mumbling the same sentence in a foreign language all over again. Edward could speak fluently Italian, Spanish, and French. But this, this sounded like a whole new language she invented herself. He was too focused on the words coming from her mouth to notice how the pain had reduced to the minimum, then disappeared entirely.

She removed her hand, and the wound on his leg was no longer there. His skin was as smooth as before, it appeared as if there had never been an accident.

“H-How…How did you do that?!” He exclaimed in shock whereas she remained calm and quiet. “Who…are you?”

“My name’s Ann,” she told him at last. His green eyes flickered in the warm candlelight, and for a brief moment she got completely lost in it. Still she managed to escape to fully introduce herself to the future King of England. “But people like your father call me…a witch.”

…

Y/N held Harry’s hands on the table and examined the palm lines carefully. There were only a couple other customers in that small restaurant so nobody really paid attention to them. Had Harry been somewhere more crowded and well-known, a girl holding his hands like this would have got him, as well as her, in big trouble.

“Something important is going to happen in your life soon,” Y/N broke the silence at last, eyebrows furrowed while her finger traced across his palm. “Maybe you will meet someone special and they will change your future and reveal all the unasked questions about your past.”

“Wow, that sounds spooky,” he commented but she shushed him immediately.

“I haven’t finished!”

“Okay, carry on.”

“Uhm…Your wealth line says you’re rich, which is obvious so I won’t talk more about that…The strange thing here is that your love line is split in half which probably means relationships are not easy for you, also…I cannot see the children line.”

“So I’ll have no children?!”

“Not really, that line rarely shows on a person’s palm.” Y/N gives her boss a smile then taps on his hand before letting it go. “Don’t worry, palm lines change once in a while so your destiny can change if you make right choices in your life.”

“How did you learn this palmistry thing?” Harry had his arms crossed on the table as he asked the girl, feeling quite intrigued by her little talent. There was really nothing to prove she was right, but somehow she made her predictions sound very convincing.

“My mother’d taught me before she passed away…” Y/N shrugged and took a sip from her cup of coffee which was now already cold. Her eyes immediately shifted down when the topic was brought up, and Harry knew he shouldn’t continue.

“I’m sorry about your mum,” he mumbled before throwing on a smile to change the subject. “So do you read your own palms?”

“I can’t. You cannot see your own destiny. Someone else has to do it for you,” she answered, resting her chin on her knuckles, elbow on the table. “If I’d known I would’ve walked away from my last job the moment I got through the interview.”

“About that, I’m sorry your boss was such an asshole.”

“A perverted asshole!” She corrected him. “I could feel his erection every time I entered the room it creeped the fuck out of me.”

“I would never do that,” Harry blurted out then realized what he’d just said by accident. “I mean…I’m not that kind of person…Ugh, okay forget it. That came out so fucking wrong.”

“It’s okay, I got your point. Thanks.” Both of them burst into laughter at once.

Now as Y/N was staring into his eyes again, she almost brought up the painting. She’d wanted to a couple times today but she thought it would be weird to talk about it. Maybe that was just her imagination and his eyes looked nothing like the ones in the King’s portrait. She was probably just being paranoid.

“What time is it?” She asked when she saw him check his phone.

“7PM,” he replied, blowing up his cheeks. “Wow, can you believe it? We really spent almost a day together being normal!”

“Well, I’m normal every single day so yeah I believe it.” She lifted her shoulders, making him laugh. 

“I wish every day was today.” He sighed with a cute little pout on his lips, which got her heart jumpy and the corners of her lips to curve up.

“What’s your favorite part of today then?”

“Well, I enjoyed the old bookstore you brought me to after lunch—“ two dimples appeared on Harry’s face as he recalled “—also the art gallery in your neighborhood, I loved your stories about those paintings.” He pulled his chair to scoot closer to the table, leaning forward a bit. “Do you paint as well, Y/N?”

“Only in my free time.”

“So those paintings in your living room are all yours?”

Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she nodded. “There are more in my bedroom, they’re not finished yet so…”

“Could I see them next time?”

“Sorry, no!” She shook her head, holding up both hands. “I never show my unfinished works to anyone.”

“Alright, show them to me when they’re ready,” he requested with a grin, causing her stomach to flex, in a good way. However, she decided to dismiss that unnecessary feeling and told her boss he should probably return home now.

“Jeff must be so worried because we both have our phones turned off.” She sighed heavily. “He’ll probably kill me.”

“I’ve got your back, don’t you worry,” Harry promised his assistant as he shot her a wink. Little did he know, he just sent her on cloud nine just by simply doing that.

…

The King was pondering in his chamber when there was a knock on the door. He gave the visitor permission to come in, and his wife entered shortly after. The Queen was wearing a huge smile on her face, the sight of which sent the monarch quickly on his feet as he already knew what the good news was.

“Edward has come home!”

In the Throne room, Edward was waiting for his parents with his savior, Ann. He made eye-contact with one of the guards and realized he should be careful with his words from now on. The young Prince then leaned closer to the girl’s ear and whispered only for her to hear, “I’ll keep your secret as long as you keep mine.”

“I gave you my word, Your Highness, a witch never breaks a promise,” she speaks softly under her breath, eyes carefully scanning around the hall. “But remember our deal, I saved your life, so you—“

“Ask my father to send food to the poor people in your village and end the witch hunts,” he finished her sentence with a smug on his face, which made her smile so wide for those were the exact words she had said to him back in her cottage. 

“A prince never breaks a promise either,” said Edward as he stood up straight again with his head held high, the sight of which made Ann’s heart skip a beat.

The huge doors at the front were finally opened wide and the King of England marched into the room, looking mighty and strong as ever. His pace quickened once he saw his precious son again. Ann expected a fatherly hug from the King to his heir, however, the old man just stopped in front of Edward and kept a straight face as he inquired, “where have you been?”

“I went hunting and I got lost—” 

It was obviously a lie but the King didn’t care enough to recognize that.

“—Then this girl found me in the woods and brought me back home. She saved my life.”

The King turned to the maiden. An amused look shown on his face when he saw how beautiful she was, despite already having a mistress and a wife. 

“Your Majesty.” Ana bowed her head to avoid looking at the man she despised. Nevertheless, Edward could see it, the look his father was giving this poor girl, he could sense something very wrong about it which left him feeling uneasy for the rest of this conversation.

“Edward! My dear boy!”

All heads immediately turned to the entrance where that voice had just come from. The Queen hurriedly ran into the Throne room, followed by two of her maids, and a very beautiful young lady with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes, who’s also accompanied by two other female servants.

Giving Edward a kiss on the cheek, the Queen cupped his face between her palms and started ranting on how much she was worried about him.

“I’m safe now mother.” He laughed, turning to take Ann’s hand, pulling her nearer to his side. “This is the girl who saved my life.”

“Oh, really? Young girl, what is your name?”

“Ann, Your Majesty.”

“Well Ann, you will be rewarded for saving the future King of England,” announced the Queen as she turned away. Edward took a quick glance at Ann, smiling as she did the same. The happiness on the young pair’s faces didn’t last too long for the Queen couldn’t wait to introduce the new member at Court for her beloved son.

“This is Princess Emilié from France, who was also very worried about you in the last few days, Edward.”

Ann felt her heart fall to the bottom of her chest but she kept her head hung low because she was in no position to make eye-contacts with the nobles. Edward, on the other hand, felt a weight on top of his shoulders. That weight could be the responsibility he carried to keep his country safe and secured. 

The beautiful girl bent her knees with a charming smile on her face as she bowed down to her fiancé whom she’d only met. Strangely, Edward could only look at Ann.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Highness,” Emilié said. Her voice sounded like a soft ballad. She was perfect, but Edward couldn’t see himself falling in love with her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Princess. I hope you’re having a good time at Court,” he said with a casual grin before turning back to his father. “May I have a talk with you in private, Your Majesty?”

“Alright…Come to my meeting room,” the old man said, unable to remove his eyes from the peasant girl standing next to his son. “What about this girl here?”

“I want her to stay here, in the castle, at least just for a while.” Edward’s suggestion left all three women at shock, the King however didn’t object to having such an attractive lady in the castle, he was more than happy to make that possible.

“Edward, you can’t do that! She’s not a noble!” Cried out the Queen.

But the King silenced her at once, “do not tell the future King of England what to do. The girl saved your son’s life, she can stay.”

His wife couldn’t argue so she obeyed and nodded her head. 

“Now go ask the maids to arrange a room for lady Ann. And Edward? Come with me.”

“Yes, father,” the Prince replied before giving his mother and his future wife each a quick kiss on the hand before turning to his new friend. 

He took her hand gently, brought it too his lips and stayed for three seconds before pulling away. No matter how much the royal members in this room tried to ignore what they’d seen, it was too obvious, where the young Prince’s heart really stayed.

“See you, lady Ann,” he softly spoke, receiving a small nod from Ann whose eyes were still glued to her feet.

“Your Majesties, Your Highnesses.” She bowed then heard footsteps leaving her behind in the room surrounded by guards in armors. 

Ann lifted her face up once the doors were finally closed and Edward were gone, along with his parents, and the beautiful princess who was going to be his wife. Though Ann knew she could never be with a future King even if she dreamt of it, she surely would if she could, for this man was much more than just the crown on his head.

…

Y/N got comfortable in her bed after along productive first day of her new job. She started smiling at the ceiling, thinking about the next day when she got to meet Harry again. If everyday was like today, she undeniably had the best job in the world.

Speaking of Harry, the moment she finished her thought about him, her phone lit up on the nightstand, vibrating to notify a call. 

When she saw the name Harry Styles was shown on the bright screen, Y/N didn’t hesitate and answered it right away.

“Hello?”

“Sorry for calling you so late.” His voice sounded so soft and soothing, she could melt into the sound of it. So Y/N sat up with her back against the bed frame, smiling wide in the dark. 

“It’s alright. Do you need anything?”

“I just had a talk with Jeff…He got super pissed so could you maybe buy him coffee and breakfast on your way to the studio tomorrow morning?”

“Sure, no problem.” She giggled.

The beam was soon to be washed off on the poor girl’s face the moment she heard a soft moan coming from Harry’s side. At first she thought it was him who made the sound, but then the moaning got a bit louder, and she realized it was another girl.

He wasn’t alone.

“Harry, who are you talking to? Go back to bed baby…”

That female voice broke Y/N’s heart into million pieces. She felt a lump in her throat, just waiting for him to say something.

“I’ll be right there, Lillie.”

“Lillie?” She asked. The disappointment was clear in her voice, but she tried to cover it up with a soft laughter. “You two got back together?”

“Yeah…welll…yes,” he admitted, making her heart ache even more. “I’ll tell you in the morning…Sleep well, alright?”

“Okay, you too…Goodnight, Harry.”

The call ended with Lillie’s laughter and Y/N felt completely dead inside. It was unreasonable for her to be feeling this hurt about someone she’d only known for a day. Nevertheless, it didn’t feel like a day to her. She wasn’t one to believe in soulmates, yet ever since they met, she’d been hoping he could be hers.

So she squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to fall asleep. That night she had the strangest dream ever, one that she remembered clearly even after waking up the next day. In her dream, she saw two flames, burning in a pair of green eyes.

[faerlyn]

ONE OK ROCK -  Eye of the Storm Tour House of Blues - Dallas

3/12/19

My 12 year old daughter, L, and I went to see ONE OK ROCK today. This a poorly written summary of our experience:

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It's ONE OK ROCK show day!! L and I are so excited! We've been looking forward to this concert for months. I got our tix as soon as they went on sale. Sadly, meet and greet passes were not in my budget. That's my only regret, but, maybe next time!!

We go to the House of Blues pretty early, around 12ish. There were a couple people already waiting on the patio. We decided to go eat, and the return and wait for the doors to open at 6:30. During lunch L was saying how awesome it would be if we ran into the band at the restaurant or outside near the buses. I was like “Yeah, right. Nothing like that ever happens to me.”

When we made it back to HoB, there were about 10-15 people waiting now. It was drizzling a little bit so people were waiting on the patio instead of lining along the fence. I was a little worried that we wouldn't be able to get in the front of the line like we planned, but hopefully we'd still be able to get good spots when the gate opened. Someone was trying a numbering system with a marker, but I figured that would go out the window as soon as the people moved from the patio to the line at the fence (it did, lol).

Around 2:40 I  needed to go to the bathroom and wanted coffee. So, I looked up the nearest Starbucks, which was ½ mile away (ugh). I decided to go ahead and walk. I left L with our stuff, so she'd be able to save our spot in line if it started forming. I trekked off to Starbucks …. ½ a mile is a lot longer than it sounds when you need to pee! I finally made it got our coffee and headed back. ½ mile is even further when you are carrying 2 drinks, lol.

When I walked back I had to walk by where the band's buses were parked. I was 10-15 feet from the first bus, I noticed someone open the door of the first bus and step out. It was Taka!!!!!! I instantly started squeeing in my head.  When I passed by, I was only inches away from him. My heart started racing. My hands were shaking. I was thinking “Don't drop the coffee on him!! Don't act like an idiot” Of course, I didn't say anything to him. I didn't want to bother him. He was kinda looking down and heading to the back entrance of the venue. Now I'm going to be a little shallow, he was so much prettier in person (not that he isn't good-looking in pics, they just don't always do a person justice). I continued to fan-girl in my head as I made my way around the building and back to where the line was now forming.

I go to where L was, handed her the coffee tray, grabbed her shoulders and pretty much squealed “I just saw Taka by the bus!!! I passed right by him!!!” She replied “I hate you. I'll never forgive you for not taking me with you” Lol, lol. I was sad that she wasn't with me, but I don't think she could have kept a calm exterior if she had been that close. This was such an awesome moment. I never have things like this happen. The words I'm typing don't even come close to how I felt during this time.

6:30 finally gets here and the line starts moving!! We did not get as close to the stage as we wanted to, but we weren't in horrible places either. We were about 6 people deep from the stage. We were hoping to squeeze in a little closer as the show progressed.

I liked Stand Atlantic ok. The singer was good and had good stage presence. I did not like Waterparks at all. They just seemed like a bunch of flashing lights and unoriginal music. I pretty much spent the whole show looking away from the stage because the lights were just too much. I defiantly did not want a horrible migraine before OOR started. 

Finally OOR time!!! The show was so amazing. I already loved OOR, but seeing them live made me even more of a fan. The energy, the sound, just everything was perfect. The super long (24.3 second) note in Clock Strikes, omg, how can he even do that??  The only thing I would change about the show was …. make it longer!! The time just seemed to fly by! I highly recommend seeing them live. This easily became my second favorite live show ever. It was second only to Linkin Park. I can't wait to see them again. Hopefully they come back to Texas soon!!

L says this was her favorite show ever.

Setlist: (I got this from YouTube, I'm pretty sure it's right!)

Push Back

We Are

Clock Strikes

Change

Unforgettable

Head High

Take What You Want

Stand Out Fit In

Grow Old Die Young

I Was King

The Beginning

Jaded

Wasted Nights

After the show, we went to he merch area. I'm usually too cheap to by stuff at concerts, but L really wanted a shirt. So I gave in and bought us both shirts.

We left the venue and started to head to where my car was parked. Before we left, L went around the building to see if the buses were still there. She came running back and said they were and there was a small crowd around the barricades. We went over to wait a bit to see if anyone would come by. Were were behind quite a few people, so I didn't think we'd be able to get close anyway.  About 10 minutes L said, “I bet they are already on the bus, we should go.”  Just a few seconds later, the back door opened and Taka come out! I expected him to walk by and maybe wave then get on the bus. Nope! He went up and down the barricade taking selfies with people and signing things. We were still behind a bunch of people, I was trying to make sure at least L got close enough to say something to him. My friend happened to have a small notebook in her pocket and L had a pencil. She was able to get close enough to try for an autograph, I handed her my phone so she could maybe get a selfie. Taka passed by where we were standing, I thought he was about to leave, but then he turned around and went to the other end of the crowd. The people were there before us were leaving as they got their pics. I was able to get behind L, so when Taka made it back to where we were, we were able to get a selfie. I was so awkward with my phone, I couldn't hold it with one hand and take the pic, Taka grabbed the other side of it to steady it while I took the pic! OMG Taka touched my phone!! I apologized that I the flash was on. He said “It's ok” L then asked if he would sign her paper. He said “Sure!” She took the paper back. She was so excited that she forgot her pencil. Taka handed it to her, saying “Here's your pencil.” Squeee.

We left after that so the next person could step up. I had to stop for a second to remember to breath, lol.

That was such an incredible experience!! Taka was so sweet to the people who were waiting outside the bus. He totally didn't have to take the time to speak, sign and take selfies with everyone out there. I'm sure he was tired after the show and probably needed to start getting ready to head to the next one.

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And … that was it! I already want to see them again!!