#‘the bloodshot brings out the blue in your eyes’ is a REALLY GOOD lyric for him.

[lem-argentum]

ahem. here r my most promcore songs/lyrics because i think about him a very normal amount n wanted to write them out….. <3

-bread - yellow ostrich!! this is one of the first songs i associated with him the lyrics are self explanatory…..

“to go away for quite a while, if that is what will make you smile / is something i would gladly do, because i am in love with you”

-go to sleep kimberly - superet!!! IT. him. ok.

“do you think i look alright? / yeah, the bloodshot brings out the blue in your eyes”

-look better in gold - friday pilots club <3 this is actually a general chocobros song in my mind but he’s included. and my tag for him is also a different song by this band BUT <3

“if i could do just what i wanna / betcha would too, betcha you’re gonna, yeah / but you hate the change!” “tough luck, that’s bold / it’s safe to say we look better in gold!”

-unlikely skies - also by yellow ostrich! i made an animatic with this one :]c lots of tundra prom feelz.

“i’m burning leaves up to my knees / as the smoke, it clears my lungs / i’ll take my unlikely skies / over wherever i belong” “i ran out to the trees / looking for some protection, some embrace / but their arms are holding back / and they protest, ‘we don’t even know your name’”

-body of mine - LAST YELLOW OSTRICH SONG. this one gives me a lot of emotions..

“i’m on my side now / and i’m giving up / i don’t know when this body of mine has had enough” “oh, i want to feel alright / it seems this will take some time / can you fix it with just a line / oh, i would like you to drive”

-trying not to hide - the j. arthur keenes band. THIS ONE is extremely tundra prom. instrument-wise it also just sounds like him. you know <3

“and then it’s torn up, taken from my insides, taken for a ride / i’m somewhere on the tundra, trying not to hide”

-(i also have to include) even though i don’t deserve it - the same band. self explanatory as well..!!

“come honey, i’ll show you the well / where i keep my secrets, open to hell / i need someone, someone to share / the ones that come up, gasping for air” “i want help, even though i don’t deserve it / i want you, i just wanna leave my burden / want help, even though i don’t deserve it”

-don’t keep driving - the paper kites!! in relation to prom’s fear of change (which i could get into).

“there’s nothing wrong with a little time / for the memories / for the good times / don’t leave” “but the distance between us is half of this city / don’t keep on driving / let me say something”

-aaaand honorable mention to the rest of how to work a room - superet. because i love this album <3 in order these lyrics are from: farrington pond, blue age, and (how to: make an exit) <3

“yesterday’s apprehensions are fleeting and fading / and with the sunrise comes redemption for that empty feeling” “i don’t wanna leave this place, this empty space / and with the dull drums of the work week i think i’d like to stay / i don’t wanna leave this place, this empty space / and with the cold comforts of solo, you’ll never be lonely, lonely, lonely”

“young lovers face the glow / of iridescent telephones / swept into a social sea of faces to compare to / and pixelated memories / of photogenic families / an infinite scroll just to remind you”

“locate the nearest exit and leave abruptly. avoid eye contact. don’t say goodbye. no one will notice.”

[weisshapt]

* BLACKBIRD "seconds later, feels like something's missing- something really important. then i realize you're there, always were, and this stupid wave of relief washes over me."  a mix for vesper and johnny.

tracklist and lyrics under the cut

chainsmoking - jacob banks

it’s getting harder to breathe chainsmoking your love can’t be good for my sanity can’t be good for my lungs

dark nights - dorothy

don’t send me no angel this city’s too cold ‘cause i need a man with a black heart of gold

blackbird - the beatles

blackbird singing in the dead of night take these broken wings and learn to fly all your life you were only waiting for this moment to arise

never fade away - p.t. adamczyk

i saw in you what life was missing you lit a flame that consumed my hate i’m not one for reminiscing but i’d trade it all for your sweet embrace

apartment - bobi andonov

you can’t lie, i know how you feel about me, about me, yeah you’re nervous, tonight isn’t real but don’t we, don’t we

subtle thing - marian hill

i always see you when i’m out on the street i wanna talk and you appear on my screen dreaming like a broken record looping all you know forever

power - isak danielson

i was lost until i found me in you i saw a side of me that i was scared to but now i hear my name and i’m running your way all i feel as i get closer to you is the desire to move like you do so now i hear my name and i’m running you way

blurry - jp saxe

your lips up against my neck you whisper in my ear “don’t let go yet” and i don’t gotta know what’s next ‘cause all that i’m in are the parts of my skin touching yours

lay all your love on me - the butterfly effect

but now it isn’t true now everything is new and all i’ve learned has overturned i beg of you

madman - sam tinnesz

voices in my head turn me wicked from within something waking from the depths a madman, a madman

if i had a heart - fever ray

if i had a heart i could love you if i had a voice i’d sing after the night when i wake up i’ll see what tomorrow brings

mercy - jacob banks

i sing your lullabies your melody, like a symphony we burn the same inside a fire

do it for me - rosenfeld

give me your hand i’ll show you things you’ve never done hold my head i’ll make you feel like never before

iris - goo goo dolls

and all i can taste is this moment and all i can breathe is your life and sooner or later, it’s over i just don’t want to miss you tonight

wicked games - the hot damns

these wicked games we play kill the lights, better hold on tight out for blood better run and hide

bloodshot - dove cameron

and my friends say i’m losin’ my mind and my parents check in all the time but it’s harder to see you’re not mine with my bloodshot eyes

heaven in hiding - halsey

and when you start to look at me, a physical fatality and you surrender to the heat, you’ll know i can put on a show, i can put on a show don’t you see what you’re finding? this is heaven in hiding

obsessed - dynoro

i ran through all your veins i saw all of your visions i found all of you babe but i couldn’t find me anywhere and now i’m stuck inside of you

even if it hurts - sam tinnesz

even if it hurts even if it makes me bleed i’m gonna carry you pushing through with the dirt on my sleeves

(don’t fear) the reaper - blue öyster cult

all our times have come here but now they’re gone seasons don’t fear the reaper nor do the wind, the sun or the rain we can be like they are come on baby, don’t fear the reaper

the only living thing - adam french

won’t you lay your body down get to know me be the only living thing i care about you’re not alone when i’m around

voyeur girl - stephen

those stolen eyes can’t hide what’s underneath a lonely power no one else can see voyeur girl wanting more, more and more

slow love - tender

spend a little too much time together forgotten how to be all by ourselves could be worse, yeah, it could be better we'll stay inside beyond all others

worst in me - unlike pluto

i saw you standing there, and i knew i’m done for, it’s over, i’m through playing games from the start sinking your nails in my heart

smoke - pvris

you make your way into my veins course right through my limbs and dig you way into my brain so in the second that you walk, walk into a room i can’t help myself from that thing that you do

the drugs - mother mother

‘cause your hotter than the sun and your better than the drugs i used to love and you’re deadly like a gun yeah, you’re deadly like the drugs oh, the drugs i used to love

something to lose - dylyn

oh i’m scared, this time i really care ‘cause i’m a better me when i’m with you suddenly i got something to lose i’m just so scared, i don’t wanna tear us apart ‘cause i like how i feel when i’m with you

fear of falling asleep - tender

and as i lay here in my bed at night the only thing that’s mine is my fear of falling asleep and not waking up

my demons - starset

take me high and i’ll sing oh you make everything okay we are one and the same oh you take all of the pain away

gravity - eden

‘cause you say i drink and i smoke and i talk too much but i know you lied when you said that you just gotta go and save yourself

hallucinations - pvris

hallucinations, you occupy my imagination’s running wild new sensations, sweet temptations i can’t tell what’s real and what’s

dinner & diatribes - hozier

honey, i laugh when it sinks in a pillar i am of pride scarcely can speak for my thinking what you’d do to me tonight

artificial paradise - vlad holiday

numb me ‘til i feel emotion beat me up so i can fight for what i believe in trip me so i fall all the way up to heaven plug me in and take whatever makes me human

trouble - tender

whenever i’m alone i feel your ghost your presence is known, i already know too much what you did in your past life, it’s no business of mine i would join you and all, but i’m starting to tell we’ll be fine

bones - wens

tangle me, tangle me in your web all of me is alive ‘til i’m dead hold me close ‘til my pulse loses time i’ll be yours if you’re mine, if you’re mine

heat - l.a. rose

it’s not passion till you bleed a little for it it’s not love till you lost more than a little bit feel the heat on your neck it’s not real it’s gone and you’re no longer holding on to it if we want to get close then we’ll need to get lost in the heat of it

in flames - digital daggers

and i know your devils i know them by name when you look my way oh i’m not afraid

[livingmybestfictionallife]

What If?

Request from @chanandlersstuff​: Hii, it's me, again. I want to request another Mgk imagine. Something like he goes to a new bar in the city and discovers that the owner is his childhood sweetheart or his first crush, the reader, and they can kiss or something like that. I love how you write and that's why I will ask you for a lots of requests

A/N: Thank you so much for your support! :) I hope you enjoy this one! Also, idk where Cassie and her mother reside. I assume it’s Cleveland, so that’s what it’s going to be in this story. ALSO, a bit of Pantera/Damageplan trivia is included as part of the plot of the story simply because I was listening to it and realized this takes place in Ohio--you’ll see why it’s important if you don’t already know. Hope you enjoy!

A/N part 2: If you ever want to be tagged in something, send me an ask or a message! :)

December 8th, 2004 was always a day that stood out to Colson, simply because it was the biggest ‘What if?’ in his life. He’d experienced too much heartache in his youth and would continue to face pain and anguish throughout his adolescence and early adulthood, and he had so many things that he would reflect back on and wonder what could have happened to make things go differently? What could he have done better? What kind of divine intervention would have been needed? What if he’d just gone home? What if he decided to hang out with someone else?

It seemed that as he reached thirty, he became more enamored with laying these what if questions to rest. He could spend the rest of his life wondering about what would happen had he not fucked something up or had something just gone a different direction, or he could accept that each of those mishaps had led him to the man he was today. He was happy with his life, and for the first time in a long time, he could admit that he was truly happy; he had a beautiful, happy, and healthy daughter that was the light of his world, a successful fifth studio album that blew away the punk and rock charts, and he was in what had to be the healthiest relationship in his life with a gorgeous woman that he loved. Yet still, there was one what if that refused to escape his mind: what if December 8th, 2004 went differently?

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

Cassie had told her father over a thanksgiving dinner in Los Angeles about her school’s Winter Talent Show, and that she would be performing a song off her father’s album as a tribute to her late grandfather. Colson couldn’t refrain from tearing up as his daughter told him this and promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. 

He’d shown up to Cassie’s talent show with a bouquet of flowers and a couple of friends he bothered to still talk to after all these years. His eyes glistened with proud, sorrow-ridden tears as he listened to the angel he had for a child sing his lyrics--with school appropriate revisions made--about the struggles he faced with his father since he was about her age. Of all the what ifs that passed through his mind, a lot had to do with his ability to be a good father for Cassie, and every second he spends with her reminds him that she is so much better of a person than he ever was at her age, and it was in that pride that he allowed a solitary tear to fall. He knew his father was proud of Cassie as well as she sang Lonely for her school, and when the show was over, he wrapped his daughter in the tightest hug he could, terrified of the fact that someday, he wouldn’t be around to hold her anymore.

It seemed death was always prevalent in his life; after all it was a death that caused the biggest what if in his mind to continue to pester him.

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

(Y/N) paced around the densely populated room and watched not only the patrons, but the employees as well. She’d never even thought of opening a bar, in fact, she never considered being an entrepreneur of any sort, but when the opportunity came, she realized she’d have to be a fool to turn it down. Music had always been a passion of hers; she’d performed in small garage bands with friends, played local shows throughout high school and college, and she even got a degree in music production in hopes of working with a recording studio or record label. (Y/N) had followed this dream and worked at a Bad Racket Recording Studio since 2012, about three years after the studio opened.

It wasn’t until about a year ago that a friend got her in contact with someone who was looking to co-own a bar and turn it into a music venue for local bands. She loved the idea of promoting local bands and musicians, especially since she’d spent the past seven years watching people bring their dreams to life through recording. Maybe it was time to help them realize another dream, the dream of performance.

The reverberations of heavy guitar and drums pulsed through her heart and bones as the performing artist tonight began a cover of Damageplan’s ‘Breathing New Life’. Her heart skipped a beat inadvertently as her mind became lost in the music that electrified the air around her. As an early teen, she’d found solace in music of all genres, but her favorite had been the rock/grunge/metal scene. Pantera had been one of her father’s favorite bands, and so she grew up with a fondness of the musical stylings of the two Abbott brothers from Texas. A lot of kids her age couldn’t understand what was so appealing about Pantera to her--they assumed that just because her parents listened to it she was forced to as well and therefore didn’t know what good music was--but there was always one kid who understood. 

One blonde boy would always make sure to ask (y/n) what new music she’d found, if she’d heard of the drama that was going down between bands, and if she’d wanted to listen to CDs together after school. She always responded with a smile before any words left her mouth to continue the conversation, and over the course of middle school, that blonde kid, who she’d known only in passing before, became her closest friend.

As (y/n)’s eyes continued to drift over the crowd, images of her childhood friend’s face flashed through her mind as her gaze came to rest on a tall man dressed in all black, with unruly blonde hair. Had he not been wearing his jacket around his waist and a short sleeved shirt that revealed his tattoos, (y/n) would have glossed over the man’s presence without a second look, but the I-71 North tattoo that was half-visible beneath the rolled up sleeve had given away the man’s identity. With a smile on her face and confidence in her stride, (y/n) approached the bar.

Colson had been in town for a few nights before he’d had enough of his old buddies bugging him about trying out a new bar called Panther’s Den. They continued to swear up and down about it having a nineties feel, and how maybe he should see about setting up a small performance for old-time sakes there. After about three days of this continuing pestering, he gave in and agreed to go to the bar. Together, the small group sat huddled together as they waited to order drinks when a woman approached them with an unforgettable smile pulled across her face. 

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” she called out over the band as she shifted her weight from one foot to another and waited for the man to bring his eyes to hers. She half expected to see the bloodshot, sleep-deprived, almost hallowed out expression he had worn from time to time in his youth, but when those bright blue eyes turned to face her, (y/n)’s smile grew as she looked into the healthy face of her long time friend.

“(Y/N),” Colson was quick to exclaim as he stretched out his arms and pulled the woman into his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“Just running my business.”

“You manage this place?” Colson asked as he looked down into the woman’s eyes. She’d always been mesmerizing to him, although he could never put his finger on it. Maybe it had been how little she cared about what other people thought about her in school, or how badass her taste in music was to him. Maybe it was how supportive she was in him when he said he wanted to rap, or the way her eyes seemed to light up whenever a good riff stood out to her. Maybe it was the way she couldn’t help but nod her head to the beat of every song, the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating on a specific lyric, or the fact that she was his earliest supporter. Whatever it was that captivated him at thirteen was doing the same thing to him at thirty.

“I own it; well, co-own, technically, but I picked the name.” With a smirk, (y/n) lowered herself into the barstool beside Colson and watched as the posse that had surrounded him began to disappear.

“I definitely see the connection now,” he laughed as his eyes traced over the woman’s features. There was a lot that was different--she had less of a baby face that she had in school, seemed a bit more kind and lighthearted than when she was so doom and gloom back in the day, and wore a smile that used to take him what felt like hours of coercing to bring to her face. “How have you been?” Colson hated the question. Often he thought people would think he asked it just to compare his success to their current phase in life, but with (y/n) it came with a different kind of awkwardness that he would have to face.

“I’ve been doing well. My business partner and I got this place up and running last year and it’s been going pretty smoothly,” she admitted. “I was working with a recording studio for a long time before this, but nothing too exciting.” (Y/N) loved what she did and often didn’t have much to talk about with other people besides her work. Her personal life consisted of watched re-runs of TV shows that haven’t been on the air in years, entertaining herself and her pets at home, and not really making an attempt of finding new relationships--friendly or romantic.

“No guy in your life?” Colson found himself asking with an insecurity swelling in his chest that didn’t die down until she shook her head and dismissed whatever fears he didn’t realize he had.

“What about you? Dating Megan Fox must being something,” (y/n) said as she nudged Colson’s ribs with her elbow.

“Yeah,” Colson muttered as he tried to hide his face from (y/n) as he spoke. “She’s great, and I’m really happy.” His words were truthful in every sense of the matter, but that what if still tugged at his heart.

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

At twelve and thirteen-years-old, there’s no way to know what love feels like, so Colson tried to ignore the knots that came into his stomach or the words that got caught in his throat whenever he would hang out with (y/n). He ignored the burning in his chest whenever their faces touched while sharing the cheap headphones they used to listen to (y/n)’s CD player with, and buried the jittery feeling he had whenever he knew he had plans with (y/n) and was counting down the hours until seeing her. The only thing that forced him to come to terms with how he felt towards (y/n) was another boy in her class that offered his headphones over to her one day before school to listen to the newly released, Volume 2 box set from Motley Crue, which had just announced they were reuniting. 

His blood boiled as he saw her hand brush against the other boy’s as she accepted the headphones and bobbed her head to the beat of whatever song was flooding her ears. It took Colson all of the courage his young self could muster to ask (y/n) to go on a date with him, and all of the money he had earned through small, odd-jobs to pay for the perfect date for this perfect girl.

He’d tried to ask two of his older friends who could drive to take him and (y/n) to Columbus, but wasn’t able to bribe them with enough money for them to agree. Eventually, he had to ask (y/n)’s father for help. His own dad was too busy working to be bothered with a middle school date, so he hoped the man who gave his daughter her love of music would be understanding. (Y/N)’s father found the young man’s idea heartwarming and fun, and agreed to take the pair to Columbus under the stipulation that he stayed to keep an eye on them. At that point, Colson was so relieved the date was panning out, that he didn’t care if her dad came along. 

Excitement had overwhelmed both (y/n) and Colson as they embarked on the two hour drive from Cleveland to Columbus, but the time passed quickly through their loud singing, enthusiastic conversation, and (y/n)’s wild anticipation as Colson revealed to her that they were going to Columbus to see Damageplan perform live. He remembered an early conversation he’d had with (y/n) about how she’d love to see Pantera live, as well as the disappointment she had a year ago when the band broke up. Although it wasn’t the exact same as seeing her all-time favorite band, he’d hoped Damageplan, which the founders of Pantera formed after their breakup, would be a close second.

Had they not been caught in traffic, they would have gotten to the show on time. To this day, Colson and (y/n) were both sure the traffic had been a blessing in disguise. They wanted to be front and center for the first song, but that came with the possibility of losing their lives.

They pulled up to the venue about fifteen minutes late. “The show is hours long! We won’t miss much in fifteen minutes,” (y/n)’s father had continued to reassure the teenagers that sat together in the back seat of his car throughout the drive. However, as they pulled up to see ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars flooding the scene, he realized that they may have missed everything. After her father got out and talked to a few people who had remained at the venue--either to give statements to officers or simply because they were in too much shock to drive--he returned to the car where Colson and (y/n) waited, put the vehicle into drive, and pulled away from the scene. It was about twenty long, agonizing minutes of silence before he pulled over through a fast food drive through to order the teens food. With his voice low as they waited for burgers and French fries, he delivered the news to the pair sitting in his backseat. Dimebag Darrell was dead, and their lives had been spared by some traffic on I-71.

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

“Do you ever wonder what would have happened with us if we actually made it to the concert?” Colson found himself asking (y/n) as his fingertips picked at the label on his beer bottle.

“The possibility of getting shot crosses my mind,” (y/n) responded dryly as she leaned against the bar on her elbow.

“I mean, what if we made it to the venue and that guy didn’t show up--he never got on stage and killed all those people. What would have happened--with us?” Colson’s eyes never left (y/n). The question had plagued him since that night, followed by a million subsequent questions, such as, Why did I never ask her out again? Why did I see that as missing my shot?

“Well,” (y/n) began with a smile playing on her lips. “That would have been the best date of my entire life. Hands down, nothing could have ever topped it,” she said as her genuine smile curled even higher into a beaming grin that made Colson weak. “I would have probably found a way to give you a kiss whenever my dad wasn’t looking, just to show you how much I appreciated not only your plan for the date, but also you as a person, my best friend, and my biggest crush back then.”

“If I would have asked you out again would you have said ‘yes,’ even after what actually happened?” He was hesitant to receive her answer; he didn’t want to know he had wasted so much time wondering if he missed out on the relationship he was meant to be in by being too cowardly to ask. As his eyes met the soft smile of the woman that stood beside him, his heart sank into his stomach and his stomach turned to lead.

“Yeah, I would have,” she admitted. “You were always there for me, Colson, and I kind of anticipated you asking me out again. You were my favorite person to be around, and I’m so proud of you for chasing your dreams.”

“But how much different would my life be if you were beside me the whole time?” He seemed defiant in his question, as if his tone could change the past and alter the present so he could see the difference in his life like comparing two ‘find-the-difference’ pages from a Highlight’s book.

“You wouldn’t have Cassie,” (y/n) stated with a matter-of-fact tone, “and I know how much you love that child.” Colson smiled at the mention of his daughter, and knew her statement to be true. If (y/n) was around, he would have never met Emma and Cassie would have never been born. “You would have still gone off on your own and done what you wanted to. Having me as your girlfriend wouldn’t have changed you wanting to be with models, I couldn’t ever keep you from something you set your mind to, so the drugs would have pulled us apart. In your own opinion, would I still be your friend if I saw everything you’ve done?” With a smirk and a chuckle, Colson reached out for (y/n)’s arm and gentled rested his hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t know if I would still be my friend. But I’m turning around from a lot of the stupid shit I used to do. You know, mellowing out with age,” he laughed and earned a small smirk from the girl that got away. “What about who I am now? How do you feel about him?” 

The words came from his mouth with a solemn look on his face as he scanned the woman’s appearance. He still loved her, and a big part of him knew he would never stop loving her. After all, how could he? He never got the opportunity to see where he and (y/n) would have gone. Would they have a child of their own? Would he have listened to her if she pestered him or threatened to leave when it came to the drugs? Would he have even felt he needed them? All they could do was speculate, and speculation wasn’t enough for him. He wanted an ending on their relationship, one way or another, he needed to know. This open-ended bullshit was eating at him every waking second of his life since December 8th, 2004, and he needed to have her tell him it would have never worked, then he could move on.

“You’ve always been incredible to me,” (y/n)’s softened voice admitted as she gazed up at the man she’d loved since her youth. “And you always will be, but you have Megan, and I know you--you’re happy. Don’t ruin what is a great thing over something that could have been, regardless of how either of us feel.” (Y/N) could feel her heart sinking and her eyes ache as they threatened to fill with tears. 

All she’d ever wanted was for him to walk in here, admit his feelings for her, and live some fan-fiction reality of a happily ever after, but the real world was much more cruel. People move on, and even if they don’t fully move on emotionally, they don’t sit around waiting forever. Colson hadn’t remained single in the sixteen years between their first almost date, and she never expected him to. The least she could do was wish happiness onto him and be happy for him when he found it. “I think you may have had a bit too much to drink, Col,” she sighed as she pushed the glass of liquor that sat in front of him aside. Throughout their reminiscing and conversation, he continued to order drink after drink to drown the anxiety of seeing her, and (y/n) could tell it was getting to his head. “You don’t want to do something you’ll regret when you sober up.”

“I need to know, (y/n),” he stated in a firm and exasperated gasp as they pair disappeared into her office so that he could sober up while she collected his friends to take him back to wherever he was staying.

“Colson--”

“Please,” his gentle blue eyes were staring down intently at (y/n)’s soul, a soul filled with hope and warmth clouded with traumas of her own, a soul that always felt tethered to his. With a deep breath and gentle sigh, she pulled herself onto her toes, gently rested her hands against his chest and shoulder, and closed her eyes as her lips found his.

Their kiss was simple, something a pair of middle school kids would have become so giddy over having done, but as adults, it was damn near impossible to ignore her heart jumping into her throat, the way his hands felt on her hips, how soft her lips were against his, how desperate he was to deepen the kiss, to sweep his tongue across her lips and lean her against a wall to feel her pressed against him. (Y/N) had pulled away from Colson before he could find the courage to do what he’d always wanted, and the pair stood toe to toe with electricity buzzing in their heads as they continued to reflect back on the past few seconds. Neither had felt that way with another person before, and neither were certain they would ever feel that way again, because Colson was happy, and Megan didn’t deserve to be thrown aside over the possibility of all the what ifs he had in regards to (y/n).

She gently bit down on her lip and stared at the floor in a desperate attempt to avoid looking Colson in the eyes, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to contain herself if he decided he wanted more. Thankfully, he took the hint and pulled (y/n) into a gentle hug before he turned rather clumsily on his heel to catch up with his friends.

“You’re always welcome here, Colson,” (y/n) called out before he left her sight, hoping he would understand her on the deeper level they always were able to converse with one another on.

“Thanks, (y/n),” he said in return as he held the door to her office gently in his hands. “I’ll try to come back again when I’m not so busy.” A coy smile played on both of their faces once the door was placed between them, and hope continued to spring from both of their chests.

Colson left the Panther’s Den feeling even more confused by the what ifs than he had initially been, and the sensation of the kiss had left him feeling even more light-headed and puzzled than any alcohol or overthinking could cause. In their silences and stolen glances, in the touch of their lips and how each other felt beneath the other’s hands, Colson knew whatever electricity between them, whatever spiritual connection, or tethering of souls would never go away. It was a matter of timing for the pair, thirteen wasn’t the right time for them to get together and it was deflected in a gruesome way, but whatever the temptress of time was planning for Colson and (y/n), he knew he was ready to fall, so he placed their fate in the hands of life, and continued down the street with the gentle graze of her lips pressing like a phantom against his own.

[salandition]

Dizzy

Leon/Male!Reader

Summary: When you stop making the room spin, an unsettling whistle leaves your lips and Leon slowly backs away from you as you keep stalking toward him- and all of a sudden he’s aware of the feeling you’ve been giving him the entire night. Something intoxicating that makes him feel like prey.

Warnings: Rated T. Consumption of alcohol, making out while inebriated, and sexual themes, but no smut. Just a lot of tension and dancing.

A/N:My first Leon fic! Hoo hoo! I wasn’t sure how I felt about making my first fic a male insert, and I juggled with the idea of making it gender neutral instead, but the narrative of a male reader fit better. Plus. I am... very gay for Leon, and I wanted to indulge. SO i hope you all don’t mind the assigned gender in this fic! 

--- --- --- 

Maybe it was the drinks. Maybe it was the atmosphere- the dancing, the bodies pressing against each other, the neon lighting flashing in the dark room, painting everyone's skin with its fantastical colors. Maybe it was the music that Leon could feel in his core as he was tossed around the crowd, from person to person, his hair sticking to his sweaty neck that glowed pink and blue. 

But something was happening. There was a certain energy in the air, buzzing around the entire bar, and it lit Leon aflame, stumbling and falling as he tried to keep up with it. Keep up with you. 

You felt untouchable. You looked ethereal- your body and your voice that swayed with the lyrics you sang on stage, guitar in your arms strumming chords that Leon felt vibrate through his spine. Your eyes that trailed him up and down- 

Everything about you was so intoxicating that it might be dangerous . 

Raihan was the one that suggested they go out tonight. ‘To loosen up,’ his friend had said. Leon didn’t think he needed to loosen up, he felt just fine, but spending a night out drinking and relaxing with friends didn’t sound like a bad idea. And Nessa had insisted that she ‘knew a place’. The perfect place, apparently. 

That’s what led Leon underground in Spikemuth, to a bar he had no idea even existed; and at first, it was fine. The group sat at their private little booth in the corner because Leon had a reputation of being seen and ruining the vibe with his fans, not that anyone would admit that out loud (besides maybe Raihan). But this place was special. It was dark in the bar, the only light provided was from the neon lamps placed on bar tables, the rings that people wore, and the poles and stands that were on the stage in the back. 

When Leon asked what the stage was for, Raihan said they liked to play music. It wasn’t much later after that when things started to turn.

The drinks the bar served were full of flavor. Citrusy and sweet, lulling you into a false sense of security that you weren’t really drinking that much alcohol. They seemed to glow as well, leaving your teeth a sticky color, which Leon had laughed at when he first saw it. 

It didn’t seem as funny when it was used against him. 

The champion had gone to the bar alone, ordering the next round of drinks for his table. He was feeling confident with the dark atmosphere and the fact that no one had noticed or pulled him aside yet. The confidence seemed to falter when the bartender asked him what he wanted, and he realized he didn’t know the names of their glowy-type sweet drinks, and it was too dark to read a menu. If a menu even existed.

That’s when someone had slipped behind him. He could feel someone’s chest lightly touching his back as they leaned over, placing a hand on the bar counter beside him. The champion bristled but didn’t say anything as he turned around, expecting it to be Raihan messing with him- 

Instead, he met your eyes, and that’s when the fire in his belly started. 

You didn’t meet his gaze. Your teeth were glowing, like his, and your lips were stained and smeared with purple as you listed several words he wasn’t familiar with to the bartender, and suddenly the man was working, his hands busy as he whipped up several drinks. 

That’s when you looked down at Leon, and he felt like his throat was suddenly drier than it should be. 

“Are you new?” You asked him quietly, only for Leon to hear, and Leon felt the need to suddenly shiver. 

“Ah- I suppose it’s obvious, isn’t it?” He laughs lightly, joking at his clear inexperience with the bar, and your teeth disappear when you smile at him. 

“Just a tad. I don’t mind lending you a hand, though. You should have a good time, this place can get overwhelming,” you lean a little closer, making Leon feel the heat radiating off your body, and it’s making him sweat, “if you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

Leon opens his mouth, but no words come out. Thankfully, he’s saved by the bartender, who places several different drinks on a tray and puts it on the counter. You smile again and push the tray toward him, and Leon looks at you in confusion before reaching back for his wallet. 

You’re already close enough that you easily stop him by placing a warm hand on his arm. “It’s on me. Bring the drinks to your friends.” You lead his hand to the tray, and you finally take a step away from Leon, giving him room to breathe. Leon  really shivers then by the sudden shift in temperature- he was suddenly much colder than before. “Have a good time, new boy,” you told him with a wink, and suddenly you disappeared as if you were never there at all. 

Like a figment of his imagination. 

Leon tried his best to shake it off. If you were real, you were certainly strange. The aura you carried and the way you talked to him- 

No one ever talked to him like that. 

But, again, he shakes it off. He brings the tray of drinks to his friends, all who holler and cheer when he returns. When Sonia asks what took him so long, he doesn’t know what to say, so he just hands her a drink instead. 

Raihan gives him a look, and Leon ignores it. 

Things start to fall back like they were before. Leon laughs, he jokes, he wrestles with Raihan. Ordinary things for a night out. And then, finally, people start to set up on the stage. Somehow it gets even darker in the club, but the light stands that surround the borders of the stage glow brighter. 

You step onto the platform, electric bass in your hand, and you go right for the microphone in the center. Leon once again feels his throat dry up when he sees you, for reasons that he really can’t find the right words to explain. 

Music starts to play, slow and sweet and alluring. Leon can’t help but ask because he can’t seem to tear his eyes away- “who is that?” 

“Him? That’s ___,” Nessa replies, resting her head in her hand as she looks at the stage. Her body naturally sways to the beat. “Him and his band play here a lot. Not sure about the name of the band because they never really announce themselves. They don’t really have a schedule either. They just come up and play, and no one says anything. They’re really good, though.” 

Hm. 

The slow beat only lasts for so long. The bass players behind you and the drummer all start to amp up, and eventually, your voice comes through the speakers of the club. “It’s about time we livened things up, don’t you think?” The patrons of the clubs all woot and cheer, making you laugh. “Mm, I thought so. Alright. I want to see some of you pulling your best moves, then.” 

You strum your guitar, and the mood changes. 

Here I am, tied and bound, 

Every night, feeling low,

Bad days come back whatever,

Raihan chuckles from beside Leon as his head starts to bob to the beat, and Sonia wiggles out of her seat. “We should get up and dance!” She suggests, and Nessa seems to agree as she leaves the booth. 

Leon doesn’t want to dance, not really, but he’s basically torn from his seat and pulled into the crowd by his friends as they all begin to move with the beat. The lights on the stage begin to glow and change color, reflecting on the sea of people in waves, bouncing and sinking into sweaty skin as Leon keeps his eyes on you. 

In the sun I bathe, in everyday light, 

You draft me down for a split second tomorrow, 

What am I supposed to do?

Somehow, your eyes find his. They stay on him, bore into him as you sing, even as Nessa twirls him around and laughs at how distracted he is. 

I know you would make me happy, 

Girl, I found my way out,

I found it at last now I’m sober

Oh-oo-oooo-

Your eyes practically shine as your head raises high, 

Let’s go!

The bass guitars thrum loudly and everyone enjoys the rift, and Leon’s forced to tear his eyes away as he dances and laughs when Sonia nearly trips, falling into Raihan instead, and then he twirls her across the floor until she falls into Nessa’s arms and the two start to dance in sync together. 

 Leon distracts himself with the music. He tries to ignore the feeling of your eyes burning into him as the music continues, gets louder, vibrates through him just like your voice had done to him earlier. He lets himself enjoy the sweat and exhaustion that comes from dancing so much, the ache in his feet- he thrives in it.

You had told him to enjoy himself, hadn’t you?

His cheeks hurt from how much he was laughing and smiling, and he starts to forget about your purple-stained lips, but then you did something unexpected. 

 The songs you and your band made, easy to dance to, come to a quiet, and Leon had noticed how you removed your guitar and set it to the side. Music comes again as you walk up to the mic with a whistle, but the intense beat had him stopping in his steps to stare up at you. Slowly your hands went around the mic as you sing, 

Woke up in the morning feelin’ cynical, typical,

Tryin’a rub the sleep out of my bloodshot eyes, 

Did I just die? Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, 

You smile as you take the mic away from the stand, but your eyes remain somewhat neutral and cold as you look out to the crowd. 

I’ve been feelin’ self-destructive, but I love it, 

I can’t help myself- your taste is so seductive, 

Leon’s surprised when you hop off the stage, the line of the microphone following behind you as you twirl the wire between your fingers, but no one else seems to think it’s strange. Maybe you do it often. Naturally, people move out of your way as you continue to sing, but Leon finds himself frozen in place. 

I’m feelin’...

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind, 

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life, 

And you’re headed right for him. 

Somehow, he felt like he should have predicted it from how your eyes bore into him as he swayed and danced to your voice. But now? Again he realizes he doesn’t feel like dancing, but you reach for his arm just like before and pull him toward you anyway, making him twirl with you, everyone’s eyes on the two of you.

He doesn’t see them, and neither do you. The two of you are too busy twirling, twirling, twirling. 

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind, you sing, 

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life, 

When you stop making the room spin, an unsettling whistle leaves your lips and Leon slowly backs away from you as you keep stalking toward him- and all of a sudden he’s aware of the feeling you’ve been giving him the entire night.

Something intoxicating that makes him feel like prey. 

Frontin’ about my day, I’m feelin’ criminal, habitual,

I try to hide my pain behind a broken smile, so out of style, 

Leon keeps backing up until his heel meets a surface- the stage. He backs up as far as he can against it, and you reach for him again, your hand smoothly running against his stubbled jaw as you move in close. Close enough that he can feel that same heat from before, the kind that makes him want to shiver. 

Your hand holds his jaw, keeps him in place as your chest's touch and the microphone is the only thing keeping you away from his lips as you stare deep into his golden eyes. 

I’ve been feelin’ self destructive, but I love it, 

I can’t help myself, your taste is so seductive,

The tension is left unresolved as you pull on him again, away from the stage, and once again, you spin with him. 

I’m feelin,

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind,

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life, 

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- on my mind, can’t rewind, 

Dizzy dizzy dizzy dizzy- all the time, that’s my life, 

At the end of your chorus, you wink at him again and send him flying, twirling toward the crowd and right into Raihan’s lean, firm chest. You meander around the crowd some more as you sing, but after that, you eventually hop back on the stage to finish your song. 

Leon, to put it simply, is out of breath, but you don’t look affected in the slightest. Maybe because it’s your job. Maybe because you're from another planet?

“Holy shit, man,” Raihan laughs from behind Leon as he grabs the Champion’s arms, twirling him once again, and Leon thinks he might just vomit if someone makes him spin like that one more time. “What the hell was that?” 

The song isn’t over, but he can’t even hear it anymore as he’s swarmed by his friends. Nessa looks blown away. “We can’t take you anywhere, can we?” She laughs.

“Apparently not!” 

“Har har,” Leon groans, a hand moving to clasp his sweaty forehead. “I think that’ll be enough dancing for me.” Behind him, he’s mildly aware of someone messing with his hair, and suddenly it feels a bit cooler as his hair is tied up into a ponytail, away from his neck and shoulders. Half his mind still intact, he reaches behind him, clasps a hand that feels like Raihan’s and squeezes it as a form of thanks- and then he’s stumbling away, back to his booth where he can catch his breath. 

 Time swirls in his head unsteadily, his head throbbing with the beat of drums and electronic noise. Leon still feels so hot- a heat in his belly that’s swirling and twirling and making him woozy. Resting in the booth he undoes a few buttons on his dress shirt, just wanting to cool down, but his tight pants keep him constricted and sweating. 

Cool down. Leon just wants to cool down. 

Blurry visions of purple lips and teeth cloud up his mind, and his pants are so tight,  and a painfully unfamiliar and alluring voice still bounces in his skull. He hardly even notices when imaginary becomes reality as you eventually sit next to him in the booth, your hand on his thigh, and your chest pressed against his arms as you flash those bright teeth at him again. Weren’t you singing on stage? When did you leave? Where were his friends?

Are you really real?

He wants you to prove it to him. 

Your laughter rings out, and suddenly you’re closer than before, and his disoriented mind hardly cares when your hands wander around his form. Purple lips press softly against his own, probably stained another hideously lovely color, but Leon’s so hot that it feels like a fever as his body moves to straddle you and he kisses you again. Again. 

Something pulls on the loose strands of hair spilling out of his ponytail, and he moans, and then his hair is pulled once more- harder- and there’s a tongue in his mouth that tastes like razzberries. 

Are you real?

Your lips trail against his jaw, hands holding his hips firmly- when did you get under his shirt? Leon can feel warm breaths on his ear, and there’s a whisper that rings through his hazy, clouded mind. 

“I’ll prove it to you.” 

It sounds like music. 

---

Waking up wasn’t pleasant when it felt like you were only waking up to a nightmare. 

His dreams- he had barely dreamt- but his dreams were fuzzy and warm, pleasant. Nothing like the painful throb that he woke up to, thrumming through his whole body and his skull. The Champion doesn’t even have the pleasure of waking up in his own home. 

When he opens his eyes, he sees that he’s in a living room of some sort, but he’s never been to this place before. 

 Which begs the question of how he got here at all. He has a feeling it’s not because of his horrible sense of direction- especially when he moves up from where he was sleeping on the couch and the blanket draped over him pools in his lap, letting him see the various marks that scatter across his body. 

Hickies, love marks, predatory bites. Call them what you will. 

There’s a lot of them. 

 “I see the Champion is finally awake,” a voice that’s only vaguely familiar cuts through his thoughts. Leon looks up, finding a blurry form of a body in a doorway. He can’t make out who it is, but when they step closer, his mind quickly catches up and does the math for him.

It’s you- that singer from last night. No longer bathed in neon lights, you look dramatically different- especially because you’re wearing a loose shirt and no pants, and Leon can easily see the bright marks scattered on you just like they’re on him. 

He must have done that. To you. 

“You know,” you speak up again, breaking Leon out of his thoughts. You move to sit carefully on the coffee table placed in front of the couch he’s on. You keep your distance, and the gesture is appreciated in the back of Leon’s mind. “I was surprised when I woke up this morning. I had no idea it was you.” 

“You didn’t?” His voice is croaky and dry, and that’s when you hand him the glass of water that he hadn’t noticed you were carrying, along with two white pills that are probably aspirin. 

“To be fair, the club is really dark. And I had already had a few drinks in me when I went up on stage.” You watch as Leon chugs the water you gave him. “But I was miles more sober than you were. I should have noticed.”

The information doesn’t make him feel better. There’s an uncomfortable feeling spreading through him from his gut, making his shoulders tense- 

“We didn’t do anything,” you say. “Besides making out and all that. You were certainly tempting with how eager you acted,” you smile impishly at him, chuckling, “but I knew you were also out of your mind. Nothing happened besides some innocent grinding. You passed out on my couch, too, after a while. Woke up again and threw up all over yourself, but I cleaned that up. Should probably shower when you get home, though.” 

 Leon blinks once, twice, three times as he processes the information you gave him. There’s a chance you could be lying. The Champion hardly remembered anything from last night, just flashes. But when he looks at you, sitting half-naked as you twiddle nervously with your hands in your lap, he feels like he can believe you. 

Especially the throwing up part. His stomach feels unsteady enough that he can certainly believe that part. 

“...Thank you for doing that for me,” Leon murmurs eventually. “Do you… have any idea where my clothes are?” 

“Ah,” you nod and stand up, hands on your thighs. “Yes, I had put them in the dryer earlier. Since you threw up on your clothes and all that. I’ll go see if they’re done.” 

 You leave for a separate room, leaving Leon alone in your living room. His head is still throbbing, but the aspirin is slowly kicking in. 

As he slowly starts to assess the situation he’s in, the only words he can find to describe it is… odd. Very odd.

Getting drunk and making out with strangers isn’t like him. Especially male strangers. Especially coming home with said male strangers. 

So what happened that made him so drawn to you, anyway? Leon honestly doesn’t know. You were attractive, that’s for sure. 

Maybe he was lonely. Desperate. 

He doesn’t get to think more about it because soon you walk into the room again- wearing some shorts this time- his clothes in your hand as you smile at him. 

Your teeth aren’t glowing purple anymore, but there’s still a tint to them that makes him huff out a chuckle as he takes his clothes from your hand, murmuring a thank you as he does. You also hand him his phone, which he hadn’t even thought about until he saw it. 

 Turning the screen on, he sees a headache of messages waiting for him, so he turns it off for now. 

 “So where, uh… Am I, exactly?” He asks you as he puts his shirt back on, fumbling with the buttons. You sit back down on the coffee table. 

“My apartment in Spikemuth, not that far from the bar. I know you’re pants with directions, so I can help you head back to Wyndon if you’d like. But I,” you look away from him again, and Leon notices how you twirl your hands in your lap again, “uh, I understand if you probably would like to head home by yourself, too.” 

It clicks in Leon’s head then. For someone who acted so confidently last night, the confidence that lured Leon in to begin with- you were oddly cute once you were pulled into the light. It’s almost endearing. 

Leon doesn’t reply in favor for shuffling on his pants instead- you glance away and hide your eyes with your hand as you do, which Leon audibly chuckles at since there’s not much for him to hide that you haven’t seen already, but he appreciates it none the less. 

Instead of replying to your request, he asks a question. “What’s your name?” Your eyes meet his, and he smiles in a fluster. “I never really caught it last night. If I did- well- I forgot.” 

“Right,” you nod and you don’t look like you mind. “The name’s ___.”

“___,” He tests the name on his lips. It sounds a bit familiar- so perhaps he did learn your name last night. “Well, ___. To be quite honest, last night was very unlike me. I’m a bit out of my comfort zone,” he says, and now his own hands are twirling around. “But I’d appreciate the invitation to get to know who I was smooching on last night if you’re willing to chat as we head to Wyndon.” 

Your eyes light up in surprise- perhaps you weren’t expecting that. Again, the word ‘cute’ crosses his mind, especially when you smile at him. That was the most familiar thing- your smile and how you managed to still send anxious twirls in his stomach. It was odd…

“Yeah- that’d be nice. I’ll get changed and- well- you probably want to use my hairbrush. And maybe we can slap some make-up on your neck, too,” you laugh as you stand, Leon following close behind as you lead him to your bathroom. 

Yes, the feeling you made him feel was odd… But not bad. 

Not bad at all, really.

[talkfastromance4]

Castaway (l.h)

Summary: In which Luke is left broken and untethered from a toxic relationship and Michael’s younger sister visits bringing her own light into his darkness.

Warnings: toxic relationship tendencies (fighting, throwing things), panic attack, smut, some swearing and I think that’s all

Word Count: 16.9K

author’s note: I’m so excited to finally share this with you! I started this fic about like 6 months ago and I finally finished it! I hope you enjoy it and feedback is always welcome❤

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

• • • •

Growing up it was undeniable the infatuation Michael’s younger sister Emmeline (Emmy) had for one of his best friends, Luke Hemmings. She was shy on principle but when Luke was around it increased by tenfold. She stammered a lot and blushed like crazy, which resulted in Michael teasing her about it in secret but never in front of his friends, even though they knew.

Emmy was sweet, innocent and so short compared to the four of them they graced her with the nickname of Pipsqueak, or Pip for short. When the band left to tour for the first time, Emmy missed her brother like crazy. Being so close to Michael for so long and watching him be halfway across the world was hard.

Both of them had grown up without the other, and it took a toll on Michael as well as Emmy because he adored his little sister and facetimed as much as he could or called her on the phone. He’d relay the boys’ greetings to her until all three of them appeared in the shot acting like the goofballs that they were.

Emmy tried to keep her gaze on all of them but she always ended up staring at Luke. More often than not he’d be staring at her as well, his crystal blue eyes zeroed in on her until Calum did something completely ridiculous thus snapping Luke out of his trance. She loved seeing the ghost of his infectious smile appear, and she adored his shyness because she related to it. And then she’d be right back laughing with her brother and his best friends while they did wacky stuff to make her smile.

When the band went on their hiatus, they still didn’t come home so Emmy flew out to them after Michael informed her they’d been writing again. She’d finished school and pursued a job in childcare.

It’s been almost three years since they went in the shadows but Michael promised something was in the works. At the end of the summer she’d be joining them to Bali as well which she was really excited about.

Walking through the terminal she looked around for a sign of her brother’s artfully colored hair over the crowd of average height people and she spotted him.

“Mikey!” she squeals running steadfast to her brother.

“Ems!” he shouts in the same demeanor, his arms open wide and she lunges into them. He lifts her up, her feet dangling in the air as the siblings hug after so long.

“You changed your hair,” they say at the same time when he released her then they laughed.

He went back to his natural blonde and she dyed hers a pretty dark brown.

“I like it, dark suits you,” he comments picking up a strand in between his fingers.

“Thanks,” she smiles then glances around. “Where’s Crystal?”

“Cleaning,” he chuckles, “she wanted the house to be perfect for you when you arrived. I told her it’s just you but she wouldn’t listen.”

Emmy pouts, she hates when people go over the top for her, it’s not necessary and completely not worth the trouble.

“She didn’t—“

“I know,” Michael closes his eyes sighing. “Come on, people are beginning to notice me.”

“My brother the rock star,” Emmy smiles proudly but follows him as he takes her bags. The rest will be delivered to his house, she’s staying with him and Crystal for the summer and traveling to Bali with them and the boys.

“Other rock stars are excited to see you, too,” Michael mentions once they’re buckled in his car.

“I’m excited to see them, too,” Emmy smiles shaking her leg as if to showcase her anticipation. One in particular.

“If Luke seems a bit . . . standoffish, it’s not you. All right?”

“Because of what happened with . . . her?” Emmy makes a face.

Michael puffs his cheeks and blows the air out in exasperation. “Yeah. He’s been staying with Ashton. He’s still trying to bounce back to himself. Don’t say anything.”

“You know I won’t.”

“I know, you’re a good egg,” he reaches over and pinches her cheek, “Pipsqueak.”

•••••

Crystal is hugging Emmy before she’s even halfway through the door, Michael shuffling past two of his favorite people to bring in the luggage. Crystal is gushing over Emmy’s hair and telling her about the new sheets she got for her room because ‘you aren’t just a guest so it should be your room.’

“I’m so glad you’re here, the guys are coming over for a little welcome party for you. So if you need to take a nap or shower, please do, okay?”

“Okay, thanks Crys,” Emmy finally gets a few words in. She loves Crystal’s bubbly personality and it makes her a little more extroverted.

After her nap, Emmy heads downstairs and into the kitchen where she hears all the voices. When she enters, Ashton shouts “Pipsqueak!” and she’s bombarded with two tall men hugging and ruffling her hair.

“You haven’t grown at all, Pip,” Calum grins patting her head.

“Shut up,” she grumbles nudging his hand away but she’s laughing along with them. “You guys just have a weird genome make-up.”

“All right fancy pants,” Ashton chuckles. “Want a drink? We’re going out for the best steak in your honor but we need a drink beforehand.”

“Is that so?” she raises her eyebrows but follows them. She notices Luke standing off in the corner, his own mixed drink in his hand. Emmy falters when she sees him.

It’s been about 3 years and he’s grown. In many senses of the word. For one, he’s the tallest of the guys, even slouched over, his hair is a bit longer with hints of curls on the ends and he’s got a nice amount of facial hair. He’s still devastatingly handsome but Emmy can see the toll the breakup has had on him.

His eyes are bloodshot with dark circles underneath them, his cheeks are a little sunken in and his whole body language is screaming ‘despair.’ Emmy’s always been able to read the emotions off of others and it broke her heart to see Luke in this state. It made her uneasy but remembered what her brother said and forced herself not to draw attention to him but she gave him a small smile.

So instead, she pulled her attention back to Calum and Ashton who were fighting over what kind of drink Emmy would want.

“If you guys came home for my legal birthday you’d know I love Malibu and pineapple juice,” she teases.

Calum and Ashton look at each other then nod. “We’re ignoring that jab, Pip,” Ashton says, “but I’ll make that drink.”

From the corner of her eye, Luke’s watching the whole scene before him. She’s not hurt in the slightest from his lack of interaction, she can understand where he’s coming from. When he’s ready, he’ll make his presence known.

Hopefully.

After their cocktails are finished they head out to the restaurant. Luke somehow has a hat and sunglasses on as they enter the building. Clearly he doesn’t want his photo taken but the paparazzi are around and will take snapshots of what they want.

Emmy expected this, she prepared herself for the moment when the time came. But prepping your mind and actually experiencing it are two very, very different things. Instinctively, she went to Michael who tucked her under his arm immediately ushering her and Crystal past the photographers.

“I’d say you get used to it, but you really don’t,” Michael sighs.

“It’s fine,” Emmy shakes her head. But inside she was having a slight panic attack. How did they do this day after day? People calling your name and shoving a camera in your face?

Luke removed his hat and sunglasses following the group to the table in the private room upstairs. He hasn’t seen Emmy in a long time, but she’s still cute and tiny as ever. He wanted to say hi, he really did. He wanted to give her a hug and call her by the nickname they created for her, he really did.

But his wounds are still bleeding fresh and he doesn’t want to drop his toxicity on her who has always been her own little ball of light. He listened to the conversation, hummed or did a half smile at all the right parts. But lyrics and piano notes filled his head. He was itching to write but whatever he wrote always came out as garbage.

When dinner was over, they exited the restaurant but the photographers increased with some fans screaming. They all huddled together, with Luke bringing up the caboose and also right behind Emmy. He towered over her, and it’s because of that he noticed she was about to fall when he steadied her back on her feet. Some fans would do anything for a picture.

“Keep walking, Pip,” he told her still holding onto her waist to make sure she didn’t almost fall again.

Her head snapped to the side when the nickname slipped from his lips. She smiles up at him and without even thinking, Luke smiled back. Not a half smile but an actual smile. His long fingers hung lightly on her waist as he ushered her towards the car. He didn’t let go until she was safely in her seat, she flashes him another smile.

For the whole ride back to her brother’s house, Emmy’s skin still burned where Luke’s hands grabbed onto her. She’d thought after all these years, of her growing up, her crush on Luke had disappeared. But then he smiled at her and she was right back to where she started.

•••••

Luke has been in sort of a hazy daze since his horrendous break-up, he couldn’t sleep at his home so he crashed at Ashton’s a lot. Ashton kept him in check by watching his alcohol consumption and amount of weed he smoked, making sure it was kept at a minimal rather than a mess he did not want to clean up.

Ashton offered words of advice and encouragement but the youngest brother of his was like a shell, empty and void of color. When he looked at Luke, he paled in comparison to who he truly was. His exuberant color faded as soon as things began to go bad with Lea, they didn’t even get to be bad because it went straight to worse.

When they’d go out on the town it always ended with her stalking off with attitude and Luke would be his sweetest self, trying to figure out what was wrong. Then she’d get mad that he didn’t already know and they’d fight all the way back to his home, making the car ride extremely uncomfortable for the driver.

Then it went from worse to catastrophic at the snap of a finger, and it was at the fingers of Lea. She spit harsh words at him, degrading words, words that told him he was of no value and she finished her tirade with knocking over a potted plant and throwing a vase full of (now dead) flowers against the wall.

She threatened to leave him, and at that point Luke had no idea what the hell to do anymore so he let her. That caused another infamous Lea scene as she threw her things into a suitcase all while cursing his name and their relationship as she did so. Before she left in a tornado of cruelty, she yanked the chain around her neck that held Luke’s favorite ring he gave her and chucked it at him.

It hit his chest lightly, falling intricately and ironically into a figure eight at his feet. The door slammed and she was gone. And Luke was hollow.

It was nearing midnight when Ashton’s phone rang, Calum was over and they exchanged a look of worry when Luke’s face appeared on the screen. They knew it was something bad.

“Luke--?” Ashton answered right away but stopped when he tried to listen to his dear friend utterly breaking down. He could only get out a few choice words: left . . . Lea . . . gone . . . forever . . . necklace . . . fucking crazy . . .

Ashton did his best to soothe him over the phone all while motioning for Cal to call Michael and he picked up his keys.

He told Luke to breathe. He told Luke to count to ten and try breathing again. He told Luke he and Calum and Michael were on their way. He told Luke to hold on.

It was a disaster zone when they arrived. The big ugly potted plant (that Lea insisted on buying) was turned over on the floor, dirt spread everywhere. Broken glass scattered the floor as well, along with water and dead flowers and Luke was in the midst of destruction with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands.

“Shit,” Ashton hissed running to him immediately. Calum called Michael again this time in a panic, his eyes wide at one of his best friends, his brother, coming completely unraveled in Ashton’s arms.

“Luke, Luke, listen to me, you can’t stay on the floor,” Ashton said trying to pry his fingers from his face. ��Let’s go outside, yeah? You need fresh air.”

After some more coaxing, Luke finally heaved himself off the floor with the help of Ashton just as Michael came through the door. His eyes widened at what he saw, Ashton nodded to the mess then to them before ushering Luke out in the back. His hold on the younger boy’s shoulders were strong and present, ready and able to catch him if he fell.

Calum and Michael got to work right away cleaning up the mess Lea left behind. Michael picked up the necklace setting it on the countertop. They knew the mess was more than broken glass and spilled dirt, the mess was inside Luke because she worked her way in his psyche. The mess was far from being treated.

•••••

Luke had completely forgotten that Emmy would be coming to stay with Michael and Crystal, but he forgets things easily these days. He’s still in a fog but at least he’s not getting drunk and high every night now.

He made sure to watch his intake and stayed clear of weed, which the boys also cleared their stash because Luke was far more important than a momentary buzz. So when he arrived at Michael’s he was confused as to why they hadn’t left yet.

“Emmy’s still napping from her flight,” Crystal explained taking a sip from her pink wine.

As Luke’s face remained a state of confusion, four pairs of eyes stared at him helplessly.

“Remember, Ems is staying with us for the summer?” Michael asks slowly.

Not wanting to look like he was still shattered, Luke acted like he remembered.

“Oh, right I knew that. Forgot she got in today, that’s all,” he shrugged.

The relaxed exhale from them all eased him a bit, but he still felt like an idiot so he poured himself a glass of whatever was in front of him.

He shuffled to the corner, which has become his safe place lately. He’s still present with his company but he doesn’t have to keep talking and he’s thankful they gave him the space he needed. He didn’t really want to go out tonight, he wanted to go back home and sleep.

“Pipsqueak!” Ashton shouts very loudly it almost caused Luke to drop his glass.

When he looked up he saw Ashton and Calum hugging Emmy, he couldn’t see her though, Ash and Cal were like walls blocking his view. When they finally released her, Luke couldn’t help but stare.

The sweet girl he’d known growing up wasn’t present anymore. She was still tiny so her nickname they came up with still fit. Instead of her light blond hair like Michael’s, he was looking at a dark brunette and it really brought out her eyes which were a striking deep blue.

While Ashton chattered about what type of drink she’d like, Luke kept his eyes on them and Emmy kept glancing his way. He sucked in a breath ready to say a hello but she never brought him into the group.

At first he was hurt, was he really not that important for her to acknowledge him? Then when he caught her eye again she gave him a kind smile that was missed by everyone else but him. He exhaled gratefully, that greeting was enough.

When they were leaving the restaurant Luke cursed to himself in his head at the photographers that seemed to multiply, along with some fans. He ended up in the back by Emmy and he towered over her completely. Was she always that small? Luke couldn’t remember.

But his height came in handy sometimes, like now when he noticed her stumble slightly in front of him and before she fell on her face he reached out to prevent it.

“Keep walking, Pip,” the words slipped out of his mouth without missing a beat. She turned to look up at him and smiled which he also returned very easily. Her body was warm as he guided her a bit more quickly to the car.

When he helped her climb in, she shot him another smile but he didn’t reciprocate that one. He’d smiled twice that day, and each time was due to Emmy. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

•••••

On the third day of Emmy being with her brother, she decided to make lemon poppy seed muffins, but with real lemons. Both Michael and Crystal took their respective cars to do whatever they had to do so she couldn’t drive to the store and get fresh lemons. Then she remembered Ashton had a lemon tree in his backyard.

When she texted him asking if she could use some, he told her absolutely but he was out shopping with Cal and told her Luke would be home so she could go right over. Emmy chewed on her bottom lip, she didn’t want to bother Luke but her need to have lemon poppy seed muffins was greater.

It took her nearly twenty minutes to walk to his house but it was a nice day so she didn’t mind too much. With a deep breath she knocked on the door and hit the doorbell. If he didn’t answer in the next twenty seconds, she’d call it quits and head back to her brother’s. When she counted to eight the door opened and revealed Luke still looking a little disheveled like last night.

Dark circles were still present under his eyes, and he just looked exhausted. He was wearing a white t-shirt and faded skinny jeans.

“Uh, hi!” Emmy greets her voice a little high. “Um, I’m making lemon poppy seed muffins but I don’t have a car or lemons and Ashton said I could take some from his tree and he said you were home. So . . .”

She said everything in such a rush Luke stares at her in confusion until her explanation marinates in his brain. She needed lemons.

“Yeah, all right.” He mumbles opening the door wider and lifting his arm up higher. “It’s in the back.”

She pauses for a moment waiting for him to move out of the way, when he doesn’t she ducks under his arm (though she could have easily walked normally because he was that tall) and enters the house. Emmy glances around at her surroundings before seeing a sliding door to the backyard.

The tree was a bit taller than her and it had a lot of lemons much to her excitement. She took care in picking the perfect ones, she needed six, then looked up at Luke as he shuffles in the opening.

“Do you have a plastic bag I can put these in?” she asks.

He nods silently then disappears back in the house. Emmy sighs feeling a little jaded at his silence but she reminds herself to give him space. She went through something similar with her most recent ex. Time does heal all wounds, it’s just annoying when you don’t know how much time exactly it will take.

When Luke returns she smiles a thank you and pours her gathering into the plastic. She loops the handles through her fingers stepping back into the house.

“Did you walk here?” he asks from behind. Emmy spins around to face him, his brows are pulled together.

“Yeah, it’s only a twenty minute walk,” she shrugs continuing her path to the front door.

“Hang on, I’ll drive you. My car’s out front.”

“Oh, no. Luke, you don’t have to—“

He already snatched his keys and brisked past her out the front door.

“All right, then,” she sighs following him. She makes sure to lock the door so no robbers come to Ashton’s house. She slides into Luke’s sleek black car and buckles herself in.

She doesn’t notice Luke smirk at that, it’s a ten minute drive did she really think they’d hit something? He doesn’t say anything and drives to Michael’s house.

He pulls into the driveway not bothering to put it in park.

“Thank you,” she says then stops when she’s halfway out. She looks back at him and asks, “Do you want to help me make them?”

“You’re—what?” he had his automatic response to say ‘you’re welcome’ ready but her question caught him off guard.

“Muffins,” she lifts the bag, “want to help me?”

He stares at her with his mouth open. She wanted him to stay and help make muffins? Why would she want him to help?

Why did he put the car in park and get out following the short girl inside?

She rolls the lemons out of the bag, catching the ones that were a bit more dangerous of rolling off the counter then she began prattling of directions for him to do. Luke had no idea why he listened, he had no idea how to make muffins from scratch. He sighs doing what she says, it’s better than being alone doing nothing.

“The glaze is the best part,” she says while she’s pouring the batter into the colorful muffin cups. “It’ll taste even better since we used real lemon. Did you know poppy seeds come up on urine tests as drugs?” she giggles at her little known fact and Luke smiles at her.

“I eat so many of these that I’d probably look like I’m on a constant high,” she continues as if his smile was enough of a response. Luke appreciates that.

When the pans are full she places them on the racks and Luke catches himself staring at her ass as she bends over, her jean shorts fit her perfectly. He averts his gaze back to the glaze he was mixing.

What the hell was that? Did he really just check out Emmy’s ass?

“Do you want some tea? We can sit outside while we wait for them to be done,” she says already pulling the pitcher from the fridge.

Luke clears his throat, “sure.”

He follows her outside to the patio, the pool water glistening in the LA sun and she sits on one of the chairs around the small bonfire pit. He sits in the one next to her and take a big gulp from his iced tea. It was perfectly sweet.

“I made that this morning, I hope it taste okay,” she says.

“’ts perfect,” he comments running his thumb over the condensation that’s already formed.

They sit in a comfortable silence but he can feel her gaze on him the whole time. Normally he would snap at anyone who would stare but he didn’t feel the need to. He knew she was analyzing him. She’s been that way since she was little but he didn’t want to talk about him or his feelings.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Hm?” he hums still looking at the droplets on his glass.

“You don’t have to now, or ever, but if you ever do want to talk I’m a good listener. I’ve gone through the same thing.”

He looks up at her in surprise, eyebrows raised.

“Just wanted you to know,” she smiles shyly then takes a sip of her tea before looking back at the pool.

They sit in a comfortable silence sipping their iced tea until the alarm on her phone goes off signifying the muffins being done.

“Come on,” she says lightly. To his surprise she grabs his hand in hers towing him inside to the kitchen.

She made it seem like the easiest thing in the world, grabbing his hand and Luke couldn’t deny that he really, really liked it. Despite her being so much smaller than him, her hand fit in his perfectly. To his dismay she let go as soon as she picked up the oven mitts and opened the oven.

He felt the heat engulf the air surrounding them, she sighs happily as she sets the first tray of muffins down.

“They’re perfectly brown,” she gushes, her big blue eyes staring up at him happily before going to get the other pans.

Once all the trays were laid out, she carefully tipped them over letting the muffins tumble out onto the counter. Without her telling him Luke began facing them right side up.

“Careful,” she murmurs without a second thought.

Luke glances at her, it seemed so easy for her to be concerned about him. To have his best interests at heart; first with what she said out by the pool and now telling him not to burn himself on the muffins. Two vastly different things, but still. It filled Luke with a warmth he hasn’t experienced in a long time.

“Okay!” she claps her hands once the mitts are off. “You can put the glaze on.”

“Me?” he asks watching her clean up the pans in the sink, the cool water hisses as it touches the hot pans.

“Yeah, you made the glaze, you can put it on.”

“I don’t want to do it wrong,” he furrows his eyebrows.

“There’s no wrong way to do it,” she giggles grabbing the bowl of lemon glaze and a spoon. “You can drizzle, you can plop as much as you want on it, you can even make . . .” she took the spoon scraping the gooey goodness onto it then dabs two circles and a smile beneath them. “A smiley face. Here.”

She hands him the muffin she decorated and Luke smiled back at the happy muffin.

“He’s cute,” Luke chuckles softly picking up the spoon and getting to work.

They continue to work in silence, him decorating (he made muffins look like the guys and was working particularly hard on one) while she continued to clean the kitchen of their baking mess.

“Finished?” she asks.

“Don’t look yet,” he turns his back blocking her view from his masterpiece.

“What are you doing to that muffin?” she laughs trying to sneak a peek. “Don’t be naughty!”

“I’m not being naughty, Pip,” he chuckles. “It has to be perfect, look at the other ones. Guess which one’s your brother.”

She scans the other muffins then giggles when she notices one with ‘hair’ covering it’s eyeballs. It was actually quite good for only using glaze.

“Okay, finished.” He spins around holding the muffin in his palm.

Emmy steps a little closer peering at the muffin. He seemed to have taken the most time with this one. The eyes are big, the mouth looks pretty and he drizzled the sides so it looked like hair.

“Is that . . . supposed to be me?” she mumbles looking up at him.

His eyes soften when they make eye contact and he bites his bottom lip before nodding. “Yeah. Do you like it?”

She smiles slowly, glancing back at the muffin and the way he’s holding it so it wouldn’t fall on the floor.

“I love it, looks just like me,” she giggles again.

He sets it down on the counter gingerly, leaning his hand on the counter as he leans closer to her. His blond hair falls in front of his eyes.

“Thanks for all of this,” he says gently.

“For making muffins?”

“No, well, yes but for not pushing for answers or explanations or asking how I’m feeling. It’s nice not being looked at like a china doll.”

She stares up at him in shock, that’s the most he’s said to her since she got here a few days ago. She’s noticed how deep his voice is, how sultry it sounds and how it makes her knees weak.

“You’re welcome, Luke,” she rests her hand on top of his. “Believe me when I say that I know exactly what you’re going through. Trust me.”

He frowns at that, how could someone who radiates light and happiness know what it’s like to deal with the aftermath of a toxic relationship and a nuclear break up? How could someone have done that to her?

“You do?”

“Yeah, and it does get better. No one else can fix it but you, and it takes time.”

“Who hurt you? Mike never said—“

“Michael never knew,” she shakes her head. “It all happened while you were touring. I couldn’t bother him with it, there was nothing he could have done anyway. And now it’s over and I’m better and it’s done with,” she shrugs.

“What happened?”

She opens her mouth to reply when the front door bangs open and Michael’s already chattering away.

“I smell food! Delicious food!” he exclaims entering the kitchen.

Luke and Emmy break away from each other instantly, Luke’s hand already feels cold without hers on top of his. Instead he uses it to rub the back of his neck.

“What did you—oh. Luke! What’re you doing here?” Michael smiles excitedly upon seeing his best friend while Emmy giggles at her brother’s antics.

“He helped me make muffins from Ashton’s lemon tree,” she explains.

Michael glances between Luke, the muffins and Emmy, then repeats the action twice more before shaking his head in disbelief.

“Wow, that’s great. Are you sure Ashton said you could use his lemons?” he peers closer at the muffins taking a whiff of the lemony scent.

“Yes, I called him.”

“Why didn’t you go to the store?”

“Hm, maybe because I don’t have a car? Duh.”

“Okay sassy pants,” Michael laughs, “you could have called an Uber.”

“That’s just stupid. I’d pay for the car then I’d have to pay for the lemons and pay again for a ride home? Ashton’s was closer. And free,” she grins triumphantly and Luke smiles.

Her logic was pretty spot on.

Michael stares at Luke for a moment, he hasn’t seen him smile—a genuine smile—in who knows how long. “Fair point. I’ll rent a car for you to drive while you’re here.”

“I can drive her,” Luke suggests with a slight shrug.

Both Clifford’s turn their attention to the quiet blond. Emmy’s eyes are glowing and Michael is staring at him like he’s got two heads and a unicorn horn.

“Really?” she asks.

“Yeah, really? You don’t have to, Luke, you’re not her chauffer,” Michael shakes his head. What the hell is going on with him?

“I don’t mind. It’ll give me something to do, it’s no big deal,” he shrugs again then looks between both siblings. “Really.”

“Thanks Luke,” Emmy smiles.    

•••••

Emmy: hey muffin man, want to get some fro-yo? Mike and crys don’t want to L

Luke: it’s like 10 at night, aren’t they closed?

Emmy: all but one ;) I’ll send you the address. Pretty please?!

Luke: all right lol I’ll be there in 5

Emmy: thanks muffin man, you’re the best

 Ashton peeks his head out of his drum room, his headphones hung around his neck. He heard Luke exit his room and jingle his keys.

“Where are you going?” Ashton asks trying not to sound surprised.

“Fro-yo,” Luke says simply.

“By yourself?”

“No, I’m going to pick up Emmy.” He fits his snapback on his head then turns to Ashton as if waiting for him to stop him.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun, mate,” Ashton smiles but inside he’s screaming in excitement. Luke nods his goodbye then leaves through the garage. Ashton immediately calls Calum to tell him the news.

It’s been so long since Luke has wanted to go out and actually do something since what happened with Lea. Yes, it was eleven months ago but he was still hurting. They could all feel it, and now, with Emmy being here for only a week, she’s got him making muffins and going to get fro-yo at ten thirty at night.

•••••

Luke couldn’t help but glance at Emmy while he drove down the street, she looked undeniably cute in her pair of black leggings and long sleeved shirt. She took her flip flops off and sat cross legged on her seat because she’s small and she can.

He had a permanent smile on his face listening to her rant and rave about this 24 hour frozen yogurt place called Moon-Glo that she found on Google. She was reading off all the flavors they had for the night and he could already tell which ones she was going to get.

He had the worst desire to reach over, take her hand and kiss her knuckles while he drove. He shook his head trying to clear the thought but ever since they made muffins a few days ago, he’s been thinking of her nonstop.

Thinking of her also made him think of the guy who put her through a bad break up. He wanted to know what happened, how she dealt with it and how that guy could possibly let someone like Emmy go.

“Hey, you over there,” she says.

He feels her finger scratch at his elbow gently to get his attention and he looks over.

“Hm?” he hums.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Um . . .” he heaves a big sigh turning into the parking lot of the yogurt shop. He puts the car in park but keeps it running. “What happened, with your last relationship?”

He chews on the inside of his lip, gripping the steering wheel waiting for a response. When he hears her sigh he risks looking her way. He was expecting her to be angry but her lips were pursed, which he couldn’t help but find adorable even under his heavy question.

“Let’s get our yogurt first.”

“Right,” he mutters shutting off his car.

When they enter the small shop it’s designed to look like the moon. Craters are painted on the floor, walls and the ceiling. Little astronaut men stand on the tables and neon lights are displayed above the yogurt machines, making the flavors appear to glow in the dark.

“This is so cool!” Emmy gasps then takes Luke’s wrist dragging him to the counter that has the little testing cups. Taking a risk, he twists his hand in her grasp so he can grab onto her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. He finds a small victory that she doesn’t yank away. “Let’s try them all.”

They held hands while they sampled the flavors, except the peanut ones, and Luke was over the moon (pun intended). She decided on a black cherry with vanilla, and added fruit and caramel and little gummi bears. She topped it off with a cherry.

Luke went for chocolate and added Oreo crumbles with coconut shavings. He paid for her and he noticed her cheeks turn rosy. He had to stop himself from bending down and kissing them.

“You want to eat in here?” he asks grabbing two spoons, they’re silver with a moon on the end of the handle.

“Let’s go in your car,” she shook her head then turned to the cashier and smiled radiantly. “Thank you, have a good night.”

“Uh, you too.”

Luke nodded to the cashier then held the door open for Emmy. There was a slight breeze as they walked to his car and slid in. He turned it on so that his playlist could be heard softly in the background.

“Mm,” she hums as she take the first few spoonfuls. “This is my new favorite place. Wow. Okay. So you want to know about Mason?”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he assures spooning his own treat. “That’s his name? Mason?”

“Yep. We broke up two years ago. I didn’t realize how bad of a relationship it was until it was over. He talked to this girl constantly that I never had a good feeling about, he’d make plans without telling me and I’d go along with them. He’d ignore me when we were with his friends. Then he wanted to be on a break because I became too clingy apparently.

“Then he broke up with me over text and the next day he was in a relationship with the girl he was talking to. Then they both harassed me and I was . . . I was in a bad place. I didn’t eat. I wasn’t sleeping. I listened to sad music all the time and I was just . . . not okay. It was hard. I cried constantly and I never interacted with my friends anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Emmy,” Luke says softly. He shifts in his seat to face her properly. “He’s an idiot for letting you go like that. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

“Thank you, and it’s okay,” she shrugs taking another spoonful. “I don’t know how I did it but somehow I pulled myself out of the hole I let myself fall into. Talking to you guys on Facetime really helped, even though I had to fake it most of the time.”

Luke thinks back to the times they’d walk in on Michael speaking with her on the phone. They’d act like complete idiots but Emmy would laugh all the same.

All that time she was heartbroken? And none of them noticed?

“I should’ve—we should’ve noticed you weren’t yourself. I’m sorry, lovie, we could have helped—“

“You did. Just by being your goofy selves and making fun of Mikey made me feel better. You guys made me laugh when I thought I couldn’t.”

She doesn’t comment on the term of endearment that slipped out and he didn’t bring attention to it either. But God, did it feel good to call her that. It felt so natural.

“Honestly, Luke don’t worry about it. I’m better now, I promise.”

“You handle yourself a lot better than I do,” he grimaces swirling his contents in his bowl. “After what happened with Lea, I drank and smoked every day. From whenever I woke up to whenever I went to sleep. That’s why I’m at Ashton’s house a lot, he’s kept me in check.”

“We all handle our hurts differently,” her finger close around his wrist.

Luke tenses slightly at the unexpected touch then relaxes when she rubs circles into his skin.

“But let’s talk about something happier. How’s your fro-yo?”

•••••

“Your sister should have come out earlier,” Ashton tells Michael.

“Like ten months earlier,” Calum agrees drinking from his beer. They’re sat in the living room watching Michael play a video game.

“Honestly, I have no idea what she’s doing but it’s working. Luke seems more like himself than he has in the past year and a half,” Michael says. His thumbs working furiously on the buttons of his controller.

“Do you think they’re just hanging out or doing other . . . things?” Calum asks carefully side eyeing Michael.

Michael pauses the game turning slowly to Calum, his face is expressionless sans the anger in his eyes.

“That’s my little sister, Cal,” he says in a warning voice.

“I know! But she’s not little anymore, and she did have a crush on Luke growing up. They’re both adults spending some time together, y’know, things happen,” he shrugs as if it’s not a big deal.

“Okay, I’ll remember that next time Mali hangs out with Trey,” Michael snaps and Calum’s eyes widen.

“What? Who’s Trey?”

“Guys,” Ashton tries to break up the fight before it happens.

“Just a guy she’s hanging out with, no big deal right? Cause they’re probably sleeping together.”

“That’s my sister!”

“Now you see my point!”

“Guys! Bigger picture, please!” Ashton shouts this time and the other two fall silent. “You should see him at the house whenever Emmy texts or calls him. I swear he’s becoming himself again.”

“What would you do if they are dating?” Calum asks.

“Nothing I could do is there? She’s her own person, he’s my best friend. They can do what they want, but if he breaks her heart I’ll give him hell.”

“I thought I was your best friend,” Calum frowns.

“You’re all my best friends,” Michael sighs, “We’ve been over this a hundred times. Are they dating?”

“Where even are they anyway?” Calum asks looking around.

“Luke said they were going mini golfing and to a movie,” Ashton grins.

“They’re definitely dating,” Calum nods.

•••••

The movie they went to see didn’t end until about 1 a.m. they went to a late showing and it was about three hours long. Emmy loved it even though she cried and Luke didn’t hesitate in wiping her tears away from her cheeks.

“Hey, can we go to—“

“Moon Glo?” he smiles looking her way and she squeals in happiness.

“You’re the best,” she claps her hands excitedly and Luke chuckles.

They ordered the same thing as last time and sat talking in his car until Emmy began to yawn. Luke took her empty bowl and threw it out along with his in the garbage on the sidewalk. When he got back she blinked slowly at him.

“Time to take you home, Pip,” he murmurs pulling his seatbelt across himself and starting the car.

“Don’t wanna,” she sighs with a pout.

“You’re sleepy,” he chuckles. “I won’t have you sleep in my car, it’s not that comfortable.”

“Fine,” she sighs.

Emmy does end up falling asleep on the drive back and Luke thinks she looks horribly adorable with her head resting on the middle of the console. Her lips are pursed and her long lashes cast shadows on her round cheeks. He sighs longingly as he pulls into Michael’s driveway and he brushes her hair from her face.

“Hey, we’re home,” he says softly near her ear, “Emmy, wake up.”

She groans but blinks her eyes open slowly.

“Come on, sleepy girl,” he chuckles unlocking her belt. He catches it so it doesn’t strike her face and lets it retract slowly.

She unfurls her legs and Luke scrambles out of the car to open her door. He helps her unlock the front door and she nearly falls taking off her shoes. Which is odd considering she’s wearing flip-flops.

Luke steadies her and asks in a hushed voice, “Which is your room?”

“Up,” she points tiredly.

He smiles leading her to the stairs which could be an issue so he lifts her into his arms and carries her the rest of the way. He figures the room on the left is hers, it shows the skyline of the hills beautifully, and she’s always liked a good view. He lays her down gently on the bed but she clutches his sweatshirt in her fingers.

“Stay,” she demands weakly, her big doe eyes staring at him.

“I’ll be fine, I’m going back to Ash’s place—“

“No. You could hit a raccoon. Come on, just go to sleep,” she sighs shifting in the bed so he has room.

Luke’s heart is pounding in his ears at her request. “You sure?” he breathes.

“Yes. Now get in her Lucas, it’s getting cold.”

He toes off his shoes and removes his socks. Then he tugs his sweatshirt off so he’s in his t-shirt. Normally he sleeps in just his boxers but no way is he going to do that right now. He clears his throat about to climb in when she stops him.

“What are you doing?” she’s sitting up now.

“I’m—you told me to go to sleep,” he stares at her confused.

“Who sleeps in skinny jeans?” she huffs then gets out of bed and picks up an article of clothing. “These are Mike’s basketball shorts. Put those on.”

She chucks them at him and he turns around to peel off his jeans. He sighs at the looser fit of the shorts. When he spins around she’s changed into shorts and a t-shirt of her own. Damn, that’s fast.

“Better?” she asks climbing back into her bed.

“Much. Thank you,” he says then awkwardly gets into bed with her. He makes sure to stay as far from her as he can, he doesn’t want to cross any boundaries. Especially with his best friend’s younger sister.

His chivalry is tossed out the window though because she pulls him to her, his arm falling over her waist and she tickles her fingers up and down his arm.

“Now sleep,” she tells him burrowing further into her pillow.

The sound of her breathing and the light, coaxing touches of her fingers on his skin relaxes him and he closes his eyes. On average he only sleeps maybe four hours every night, so when he will inevitably wake up he’d sneak out before Michael or Crystal realized he was in bed with Emmy.

•••••

When he woke up, sunlight was streaming through the curtains. He shifted and inhaled a flowery smell mixed in with coconut; it was nice and he inhaled more. Soft giggles filled his ears and he opened his eyes to see his head nestled in Emmy’s neck.

“You’re tickling me,” she giggles again.

“Sorry,” he mumbles sleepily and he pulls his head back.

She rolls over, a smile already painted on her face. “Morning sunshine.”

“Morning,” he grumbles. His fingers rub circles on her lower back. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

“Fuck. Really?”

“Yeah, you slept a long time,” her finger touch the skin below his eyes delicately. “Your eyes don’t look as dark.”

“Yours are, you’ve got mascara everywhere,” he chuckles.

“Great,” she groans. “I look like a raccoon.”

“A cute raccoon,” he grins biting his lip.

She rolls her eyes. “If you say so. I’m hungry. Let’s go get food.”

“How are you this chipper when you just wake up?” he asks rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“I’ve been awake for an hour,” she snickers then rolls out of his arms and onto the floor.

When Luke opens his bleary eyes from behind his hands, he’s transfixed by Emmy before him. Her sleep shorts rose up a bit and he’s staring straight at the bottom of her ass cheeks. He’s oh so tempted to reach out and squeeze, pulling her back into bed and onto his lap.

Woah…what?

“Are you checking me out?”

“No,” he responds too quickly averting his eyes then curses himself. He gets out of bed as well and tousles his hair.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she laughs.

Luke sighs in defeat then follows her downstairs. He hears Michael and Crystal’s voices and he gulps. He readies himself for a punch in the stomach or a clock to his face from Michael. He’s prepared to say they just slept.

“Oh my God. They’re alive!” Michael laughs from the couch, his guitar in hand. Crystal laughs beside him scrolling through her tablet. “Do you guys have a fro-yo hangover?”

“Yes, now we need hangover food. Wanna make us some French toast?” Emmy smiles with her tongue between her teeth, she makes her eyes really big and blinks them super-fast.

Luke would say yes in a heartbeat from her expression alone but Michael doesn’t give in to his sister’s shenanigans as easily.

“Nice try,” he deadpans. “Make them yourself, Pipsqueak.”

She sticks her tongue out then tugs Luke into the kitchen. Luke glances to Michael in alarm as she held his hand but he’s paying them no attention.

“Babe, you should make her breakfast. She’s our guest,” Crystal says.

“She can make her own breakfast!”

“I had to make you breakfast when we were home alone in the summer, Mikey,” Emmy calls gathering the French toast ingredients.

Then there’s a smack from Crystal and they bicker quietly together on the couch. Emmy stares up at Luke triumphantly.

“I love getting him in trouble with her.”

•••••

Their group is going out to Viral, their favorite club and Luke just came downstairs in all black with his shirt unbuttoned and two pairs of necklaces. He took a shower beforehand and he’s feeling fresh and ready to party. He’s really anxious to see Emmy.

“Hey man, ready to go?” Ashton asks with Calum behind him.

“Yeah, are the cabs coming to Michael’s?” Luke asks shoving his wallet in his back pocket.

“They’re gonna meet us there,” Calum says.

“Oh,” Luke chews on his bottom lip deflating a little. He won’t get to walk in with Emmy and see her reaction to the place. “All right.”

He’s silent in the car ride to the club, and does a bemused wave to fans that spot them outside the club before they enter. He heads to the bar as soon as they’re in the VIP section, slams down a shot then orders his usual.

Ashton and Calum are looking at him worriedly when he makes it back to their sitting area, he chooses to ignore them much like the girls who are making eyes at him. He knows who they are since he’s seen them naked before but he ignores them as well. None of them hold his interest anymore.

Except one.

He’s halfway done with his first drink, so he gets up to buy another—he’ll finish this one easily on the way—when he spots Michael and Crystal walking towards him hand in hand. Emmy’s not with them, great, she’s probably on a date—

There she is. Emmy shuffles beside her brother, her eyes landing on Luke straightaway. He smiles instinctually and veers to her direction, her smile alone pulls him. His arms slip around her easily as he embraces her in a tight hug. He squeezes her to him causing her to lift from the ground slightly and she laughs in his ear.

Everyone else around them disappears, his focus is only on her and when he sets her down on her feet he takes in her outfit. She’s wearing a pretty red romper with a black belt and ankle boots. She’s mouthwatering.

“You’re drooling,” she teases rubbing her thumb on his dry bottom lip. He knows he’s not but her touch sets his skin ablaze.

“Can you blame me?” he smiles lazily grabbing her hand. “Want something to drink?”

“A mint mojito,” she beams following him to the bar.

“Classy girl,” he smirks then flags down the bartender.

•••••

“He didn’t even look at us! Does he know we’re here?” Michael exclaims exasperatedly watching Luke and Emmy at the bar. He and Crystal joined the others sitting around the small round glass table.

“Oh leave him be,” Crystal squeezes her boyfriend’s knee. “I think it’s cute. Did you see how his face lit up when he saw her?”

“He was pretty bent up that we were meeting you here,” Calum says.

“I think he wanted to drive with Emmy,” Ashton adds.

“That’s so cute,” Crystal sighs.

“He’s lucky I know him, I wouldn’t want someone else looking at my sister like he is,” Michael sighs.

“Like what?”

“He’s looking at her like she’s the sun,” Crystal grins watching them.

•••••

Luke and Emmy join the rest of the group but make sure to sit close together, Luke’s leg is touching hers and she has her hand resting on his knee as they join in conversation. Luke nurses his second drink, he doesn’t want to be too intoxicated and forget what he and Emmy do together.

She’s taking shots and is on her fourth drink when she and Crystal head to the bathroom. As she passes by Luke, she takes his face in her hand and rubs his cheek affectionately before following Crystal to the bathroom. He watches her go with a permanent smile which quickly fades when he turns to his three best friends. All of their eyebrows are raised and Michael is staring him down.

“Uh, yes?” he asks awkwardly.

“What’s going on between you two?” Ashton giggles.

“What do you mean?”

“You were going to get plastered tonight, and I know because I saw the look in your eye, but as soon as Emmy arrived you’ve barely finished your second drink. Which probably is so watered down you can’t even taste the alcohol anymore,” Ashton explains.

“You’ve been by each other’s side the whole time,” Calum adds sipping his cocktail.

Luke doesn’t know what to say but he looks at Michael. His expression is hard to read, what with the flashing lights and the fact that he’s been drinking as well.

“Does my sister make you happy?” Michael asks.

“Of course she does!” Ashton answers for Luke very loudly. “He hasn’t been this happy in so long, and it’s all because of her, right?”

“Yeah,” Luke admits sheepishly. “I’m sorry Mike. I didn’t plan on this happening but she’s just . . . she’s something else.”

•••••

“Tell me Ems, are you and Luke dating?” Crystal asks while they’re leaning against the bathroom sinks.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“He’s spent the night nearly every night since you got here. He’s talking a lot more, he’s smiling a lot more, and you haven’t left his side the whole night.”

“I don’t know what we are, we haven’t talked about it. We haven’t even kissed yet,” Emmy sighs in disappointment.

“I can tell you, the boy is smitten with you,” Crystal winks.

“How can you tell?”

“How can you not? Did you not see the way he smiled at you when we came?” Crystal asks and Emmy blushes in response. “He’s changed a lot since you got here, he seems more like himself ever since Lea . . .”

•••••

Emmy is lost in thought as they exit the bathroom as Crystal drags her to the bar to order a shot. Luke notices them standing by the bar, he doesn’t know why but he feels like he should be over there. Even though they’re in the VIP section, creeps are still everywhere.

He’s only half listening to the guys’ conversation because his attention is on Emmy and the way she’s bouncing on her feet to the beat of the music. The way her eyes close when she laughed at something Crystal said. The way a guy grabbed her waist and pulled her against his chest.

Crystal tries to intervene but is shoved away into another guy and Luke rises immediately. He grabs Michael by the scruff of his shirt who yelps in protest.

“It’s Crystal and Emmy,” Luke hisses quickly and he bound down the stairs like lightning.

“Stop touching me!” he hears Emmy protest.

Upon hearing her voice, Luke yanks the guy off her and she stumbles back into the bar. He shoves the guy as far away from Emmy as he can then motions to security to escort him and his friend out who Michael also shoved away. He watches security take them away until he’s sure they’re gone then he feels small hands touch his arm. He turns around to see Emmy biting her lip, her eyes wide in fear and glistening.

“You’re okay,” he says quickly pressing her against him. She allows herself to be crushed against his strong chest, she already feels safe in his arms. He kisses the top of her head, rubbing her arms and back while Mike tries to console a very drunk and very angry Crystal.

“Want me to take you home?” Luke asks lowly in her ear. She nods and he takes his phone out to text the valet to bring his car around.

He looks to Michael who’s already nodding in understanding that Luke will take his sister home. Luke feels Emmy’s hot breath through his shirt as he continues to soothe her until his phone buzzes.

“Okay, come on lovie,” he says grabbing her hand. “I’ve got you.”

•••••

Emmy’s silent the whole drive to Michael’s. Luke desperately wants to reach out and hold her hand, but the vibe he’s getting from her tells him not to. He doesn’t want to touch her unless she wants him to, but he needs to make sure she’s all right.

Before he has his car in park, she’s already tripping out of the car and up the walkway. Luke sighs then follows after her up to her bedroom but the door is closed. Memories of this being from another time, with a different girl and it made his heart crack at the all too familiar feeling.

No. She’s not Lea. She’s not mad at you.

He raps his knuckles gently on her door, and calls her name softly.

“You can come in,” her muffled voice says from the other side.

He turns the knob, his eyes scanning the room until he finds her pulling out his clothes he’s kept there when he spends the night. She’s already changed into her pajamas, her make up rubbed off hastily. He stands frozen in the doorway, not entirely sure on how to approach her. If he should approach her at all.

Emmy turns then gives him a funny look.

“Get in here and change,” she sighs heavily.

“You sure you want me to stay the night?” he asks taking a hesitant step closer.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You seem mad at me,” he shrugs, “and after what happened at the club I thought you’d want to be alone.”

Her arms drop and she’s peering at him intently. She meets him halfway tossing his shirt and shorts on the bed, still looking up at him. She hears how deep he’s breathing, his eyes never leaving hers but she can see the doubt in the sky blue irises.

“Luke Hemmings, being alone is the last thing I want,” her voice is just shy of a whisper but he can hear the true emotion in it.

He swallows as she moves closer and closer, her fingers tuck his curls behind his ear. He notices how her lips are parted slightly and the way her eyes dart between his lips and his eyes.

“What do you want?” he asks thickly.

“I . . . I want you to kiss me, Luke,” she whispers.

He exhales his breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and attaches his mouth to hers, his arms snaking around her waist to her lower back. Emmy’s hands clutch onto his biceps as he kisses her with so much want and desire. One of her hands find home in his curls and she tugs gently, his tongue swipes her bottom lip then he slips it between her lips.

Luke shifts them lifting her off the ground and he sits down on the bed, Emmy instantly straddling him and their lips stay locked in a heated kiss of teeth and tongue and heavy breathing.

Emmy rises her hips from his lap and Luke slides his hands over the roundness of her ass. She makes quick work of unbuttoning his black silk shirt, pulling the fabric tucked in his jeans and shoves it off his shoulders.

Luke tosses it to his left, or behind him, he’s not sure because he’s focused on the taste of her lips. They’re slightly minty from her mojitos but also sugary from the lemon drop shots she consumed throughout the evening.

Luke kneaded his fingers in the fullness of her ass and she moaned against his mouth, her hips rocking gently against his. His hands travel north over the top part of her romper, his thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts and she nips at his lip and he takes that opportunity to kiss along her jaw. He’s sucking on her skin as he begins to work on her belt but when she sighs he smells the alcohol on her breath and he stops his actions.

He tears his lips away from her jaw and places his hands on the side of her neck. Her eyes are a little bloodshot and filled with excitement, her pretty lips parted.

“What’s wrong?”

“I should stop before I won’t be able to,” he breathes, his eyes darting between hers.

“Oh,” she deflates on top of him and he can see the instant rejection in her eyes.

“No, no, baby, it’s not because I don’t want to,” he tries to recover quickly and holds onto her tighter. “I want to so bad, but not like this.”

She studies him carefully and can hear truth in his voice and knows he’s right. But it still stings.

“Can we kiss until we fall asleep?” she asks softly playing with his necklaces.

“Hey, look at me,” he murmurs ticking her chin up so her dark blue eyes are looking in his. “That’s not even a question.”

She gets off his lap then and they both go to her bathroom to brush their teeth, making eyes at each other in the mirror. Luke watches her fondly as she washes her face free of her make-up and when she’s dried her face he takes her cheeks in his hands kissing her.

They shuffle back to her bed, Emmy crawls in first and Luke hits the light switch before joining her under the covers. In their excitement of kissing some more, her hand smacks his cheek and his presses on her hair.

“Ow!” they yelp then burst into giggles.

“Where are your lips?” she laughs.

“Trying to find yours,” he responds then feels her top lip. “Gotcha.”

They kiss in whispers and he can’t help but notice her lips have a slight taste to coconut, it must be the chapstick she put on after brushing her teeth. Emmy’s fingers thread through his growing curls while Luke’s are strong on her lower back.

“I really like you, Emmy,” he confesses in one breath when they take a break of kissing. Luke’s fingers trail up and down her bare back underneath her shirt.

It feels good to finally say it out loud. The last week and a half he’s spent with her has been the happiest he’s been in so long. She’s repairing the carved out part of his heart that Lea ruthlessly took from him. She didn’t question him or treat him like a ticking time bomb. Emmy’s thumb traces over Luke’s top lip, his heart is racing waiting for her response.

“I really like you, Luke,” she admits giving him a gentle kiss. “And I really like kissing you.”

“I really like kissing you,” a smile spreads on his face before he kisses her with all he’s got.

“And it’s okay?” she gasps out.

“What’s okay?”

“That I like you and you like me even though I’m Mikey’s little sister?”

Luke draws back, his brows furrowed.

“That’s not an issue, Emmy. Michael and I actually talked about . . . us, kind of. He’s okay with it.”

“Really?! Oh, thank God,” she sighs launching herself on top of Luke peppering kisses all over his face. He’s soon laughing beneath her then tickles her sides in retaliation. Emmy shrieks in laughter at his attack until they’re both panting to catch their breath.

•••••

Luke’s standing alone in Roy’s backyard waiting and watching for Emmy. Roy and Calum decided to throw a midsummer beach party and the place was packed. Luke and Ashton showed up together and Emmy spent the day with Michael and Crystal so they’d be coming later.

Ashton left to mingle immediately and Luke scopes out the other partygoers. Some of them he recognizes from his own party days. He nods politely as they greet him but he’d much rather have Emmy by his side. He never wanted to go back to that life he lived for what felt like forever.

He’s scrolling through his phone then smiles again at the text Emmy sent him not too long ago saying she was on her way. Then he hears an all too familiar laugh that sends a cold sweat on the back of his neck.

Luke looks up to see Lea amongst a group of people, her signature high top-bun and white rimmed sunglasses frame her face as she converses. Luke swallows harshly but it only constricts his throat further. His feet are frozen, his heart is racing and there’s a slight ringing in his ears as panic sets in.

His brain is telling him to escape as fast as he can, to find Ashton or to find Emmy who he hopes is here somewhere but the message doesn’t reach his feet. He’s stuck staring at the girl who wrecked him completely, leaving him in the sunken ship she capsized.

Lea slid her sunglasses up her head then spotted Luke who still couldn’t look away. He thinks there’s a word for it, like when you drive by an accident and you can’t look away? His mind is blank as she stares at him, a ghost of her signature smirk appears before she starts walking his way.

He’s frozen in his spot, the ringing in his ears is louder and higher pitched and all he can do is watch the tornado of a woman create her warpath in his direction.

“Hey! There you are.”

Emmy’s voice breaks through Luke’s panic, and the gentle touch of her hands on his back as she hugs him causes him to tear his eyes away from the storm and onto the light that is Emmy. He exhales in relief when he looks into her eyes and she sees the familiar darkness.

“What’s the matter?”

“Hi Lukey-boo,” Lea greets in a sickly sweet voice, it makes his stomach turn. “Babysitting I see?”

Emmy twists around to look at Lea and Luke closes his eyes, he just wanted to keep looking in her eyes.

“You must be Lea,” Emmy greets brightly. She takes Luke’s hand in her own and squeezes it tightly. “I’ve heard so many things about you.”

“Oh thank you,” Lea smiles smugly, twisting her hair with her fingers.

“I didn’t say they were good things,” Emmy responds icily then turns to Luke. “Come on Luke, Mikey’s looking for you.”

Emmy drags Luke away as quick as she can inside the house, he’s shaking slightly and as soon as they’re inside he slips his hand from hers. He finds the nearest wall then starts smacking it as hard as he can, his teeth clenched.

“Hey, hey, Luke. Luke!” Ashton is suddenly behind him, between him and Emmy, with his hands on Luke’s shoulders. He pulls him away from the wall. “What’s going on?”

“Lea was outside,” Emmy explains quietly watching the scene in front of her.

“Shit,” Ashton mutters then pulls Luke with him upstairs.

Emmy smiles apologetically at the people in the kitchen then scampers after Ashton and Luke. When she looked into Luke’s eyes, he was the ghost of himself she’s never seen before. It terrified her, not for her safety, but only concern for Luke. She finds Ashton and Luke in Calum’s room, it’s far away from downstairs and faces the street instead of the backyard.

“You good? We can leave if you want or I’ll make Roy kick her out,” Ashton says.

“Did Calum know she was going to be here?”

“No, he wouldn’t do that, Luke. She must have overheard about the party or something and came here on purpose to mess with you,” Ashton squeezes Luke’s shoulders. His hands are keeping Luke’s head above the waters. “What do you need?”

“Where’s Emmy?”

“Ash…” Emmy says quietly stepping forward.

“She’s right here,” Ashton steps aside, releasing his hold on Luke.

Luke’s ice blue eyes slide to her and he visibly relaxes, his face softening and shoulders falling.

“You good?” Ashton asks, Luke nods stiffly. “I’ll be downstairs. Text me if you need me.”

Ashton pats him on the back then gives Emmy a small smile before exiting the room. He closes the door softly behind him and Luke falls onto the bed with a big sigh. His elbows rest on his knees and he hangs his head. Emmy joins him and places her hand on his neck.

“Hey,” she scratches the back of his neck with her nails. Luke breathes deeply and sits up straight turning to Emmy.

“Hey,” he croaks. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I wasn’t expecting Lea to be here and it’s—it’s been so long I thought I’d be okay and—“

“Luke, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain it to me, okay?” she strokes his cheek with the back of her fingers. “What happened?”

“I couldn’t…” he shakes his head. “I couldn’t move. I saw her and it’s like I was paralyzed. I’m so glad that you showed up when you did, lovie.”

Emmy kisses his forehead, his eyebrow, his cheek and then finally his lips. Her thumbs stroke his cheeks as she looks into his eyes.

“I am too. Do you want to stay or do you want to go somewhere else?”

“I didn’t really want to be here in the first place,” he sighs kissing the inside of her wrist.

“Then let’s go,” she smiles.

He follows her downstairs where Ashton is waiting for them, he perks up at the sight of them.

“What’s goin’ on?” Ashton asks looking between Emmy and Luke.

“We’re blowing this popsicle stand,” Emmy giggles. “Can you tell Mikey we left?”

“Yeah, no problem,” he watches them brisk by then he calls out, “where are you going?”

“An adventure!” Emmy shouts causing Luke to laugh and then they’re gone.

Luke is cruising down the 405 with the windows down and Emmy is singing along to the radio. Every time Luke looks over at her it’s easier for him to breathe and they arrive at the beach just as the sky turns a pretty golden orange.

“Take off your shoes,” Emmy orders already working on her black boots.

Luke toes off his own boots placing his socks inside then setting them down inside the car. He takes her hand leading the way into the hot but soft sand. The warm ocean breeze ruffles his hair and he inhales the salty air.

Their toes touch the water’s edge, Emmy squeals a little at the coolness of it but soon she’s kicking the water up.

“Hey!” he chuckles shielding his face.

“It’s just water,” she teases kicking a spray of it in his direction. Some of the spray hits his cheek.

“Do that again, I dare you,” he threatens but his voice doesn’t ring true of the threat. Emmy does it again. “That’s it, you’re in trouble now.”

“Ahh!” She screams and tries to run from him but his legs are longer and he snatches her up quickly.

He throws her over his shoulder, she’s squealing in laughter as he spins her around making sure to kick up some water.

“Luke!” she laughs patting his back and his butt in an attempt to get him to let her down.

“Say you’re sorry!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Satisfied, he sets her down gently. They both take a deep breath and then Emmy squats down to splash a huge amount of water on his stomach and legs. She’s laughing so hard she falls into the water on her butt, she gasps in surprise.

“Karma baby,” Luke chuckles.

Emmy groans and stands up. Her jean shorts are a shade darker and her top clings to her skin, the ends of her hair is wet and Luke can tell she’s grumpy about the turn of events. She scowls at him which he thinks is the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen before she leaps up in his arms. He’s taken aback and staggers backwards, the waves push against his balance and then they’re both in the water but Luke makes sure his hold is secure on Emmy.

“OOF!” he grunts at the impact and the wetness he now feels.

“I made my own karma,” Emmy snickers.

Luke squeezes her waist and stares into her eyes, thankful that karma has brought her back into his life. He wants to tell her his thoughts, but his mouth can’t form the words so he crushes his lips to hers in hopes she’ll understand what he can’t say.

They splash around in the water for a bit longer then sit in the sand until the sun starts to set and their clothes are somewhat dry. They decide to head back to Michael’s house. Emmy’s hand is rising and falling out the window as she sings along to Jaden Smith’s PCH blasting through the speakers.

“Gimme all your kisses baby cause this is bliss, gimme all your kisses baby…” she sings tilting her head from side to side in time with the beat of the song and Luke’s never felt so much fondness for a person before.

The house is quiet when Luke and Emmy arrive, Michael’s car is still gone so they must still be at the party. Luke pulls Emmy against him as soon as the door shuts, his lips on hers. Emmy sighs into the kiss linking her arms around his neck.

“Gimme all your kisses baby,” Luke mumbles and she nods enthusiastically.

He lifts her into his arms, her legs wrap around his waist and he heads upstairs to her bedroom. He sits down on her bed tugging her shirt up and off her head and Emmy removes her bra swiftly before tugging at his t-shirt.

Luke’s hands are hot on her skin as his tongue explores her mouth once more. She smells like the beach and her lips are sun kissed with a hint of saltiness from the ocean water. Emmy moans quietly and it causes Luke’s dick twitch in response.

He pulls away and looks at her, her eyes are alert, lips are red and swollen and she’s smiling. Luke drops his gaze to her bare torso and he lets out a huff at the sight of her chest rising and falling heavily. He presses his lips between her breasts, sponging kisses along the mound until he finds her nipple which he tugs between his teeth. His tongue flicks against it and she sighs in his arms at the sensation.

He shifts to the other breast doing the same thing but sucks hard on the skin, it makes an obscene noise and she whimpers. When he releases her breast he sees his teeth marks surrounding her nipple and his pants tighten at the sight. He looks up at her.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he pants then flips her over so she’s on her back. Her legs rise up on the bed but she stops him before he climbs on top of her.

“Wait, wait,” she holds onto his chest with her palm. “Get the door.”

He smiles and obeys shutting it and locks it for good measure even though he’s positive Michael and Crystal won’t be back for hours. When he turns around he sees she’s just in her black panties and he groans.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he sighs then kneels in front of her. Luke pulls her closer to him, an excited squeal escaping her lips at the movement and he pulls her panties to the side staring at her bare center. His mouth waters at the sight. “So pretty,” he whispers then runs his finger up her slit, his eyes move to hers.

She’s watching him intently, a fire in her eyes that he’s sure matches his. He teases her more by playing with her folds and kisses her inner thighs.

“Luke,” she whines his name and fuck, does he love the sound, “please.”

That plea is all he needs to hear and he attaches his mouth to her warm wet center, she tastes even better than he’s imagined. She whimpers above him, letting her legs fall open wider for him and he swipes his tongue up and down, in circular motions and flicks at her clit which makes her go wild.

She’s moaning so loud he swears he’s never heard a more beautiful sound, he wants to hear her make those noises forever. Emmy bucks her hips in time with his ministrations.

“You close, lovie?” he rasps looking up at her. She arches her back and moans out a ‘yes.’ “Come on my mouth, baby.”

He devours her, keeping his mouth on her and moving his face roughly from side to side as she moans relentlessly. He searches for her hand that is clutching the sheet in a death grip and drags it to his hair. She yanks and pulls with each spasm of her orgasm washing over her but Luke doesn’t stop. He keeps sucking and licking until her movements slow and she lets out a deeply satisfied sigh.

Luke licks his lips then slips her panties off her waist and down her legs. He stuffs it in his back pocket, kissing both sides of her thighs as she comes down from her orgasm. His gaze is locked on her, watching her facial expressions and the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admits trailing his fingers up and down her leg before hooking it over his shoulder.

“You’re really good at it,” she puffs out and he chuckles.

He lifts her other leg over his shoulder and looks up at her darkly. “Want me to go again, lovie?”

He doesn’t give her time to answer before he slips his middle finger inside curling it as he does. Her mouth opens in a perfect little ‘o’ and she yanks harshly at the root of his curls. She rocks her hips against his finger, a chorus of moans fill the room as he pumps into her faster, harder, and it’s not long until she’s coming beneath him again.

When he removes his finger, he traces a line from her slit, past her bellybutton and around the curves of her breast. Then he scoots back down in between her legs, she whimpers already knowing what he’s planning to do.

“Got one more for me, baby?” he rasps situating himself at her core. Again, he doesn’t give her a chance to answer before he’s diving in, darting his tongue in and out at an antagonizing pace.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” she squeals pulling on his hair. Her body shakes. Her legs are trembling.

When he adds his finger again she lets out an animalistic growl that only urges Luke to continue pleasuring her, loving the yank of his hair by her fingers. He hums against her, the vibrations adding even more to her pleasure and her body spasms before clenching as she lets out a scream.

Luke feels her come all over his finger and his mouth, his eyes on her the entire time as her whole body lifted from the bed, as if she were ascending into an astral plane of pure ecstasy. When her body drops back down, her legs going lax, is when he decides to stop. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and swipes his finger on his jeans, he doesn’t care that they’re black and it’ll stain.

Luke crawls over her once more, Evie somehow finds the strength to press her palm against his chest. He notices the space between her cleavage is sheened with sweat.

“Please, no more,” she whispers. Her eyes are hooded as she stares up at him.

“No more,” he shakes his head then rests his forehead on hers. “You did so well, baby. I love hearing your moans.” She yawns then and he rolls off the bed to retrieve some new underwear and her pajamas.

He helps her change into them, her legs are wobbling as she does and they head into the bathroom to wash up. Luke holds onto her hip while they brush their teeth and while she washes her face. He tucks her into bed before he pulls off his jeans and places his t-shirt over his head and climbs in behind her. He chuckles to himself when he realizes how she’s lying, her legs are completely spread, and she’s on her stomach with her arms splayed over the pillow.

She looks like a cute little starfish.

He settles in behind her and rubs her back helping her relax, he knows she loves that. Then he kisses her neck and whispers, ‘goodnight, pretty girl.’

•••••

When Emmy woke up the next morning, memories of last night flooded into her mind. Butterflies appeared in her tummy as she woke up a bit more, blinking her eyes open slowly. She rolls over to see Luke already awake and staring at the ceiling, his arms locked behind his head.

“Good morning,” Emmy greets, her voice is strained as she stretches her limbs.

“Morning,” he smiles wistfully at her then continues staring at the ceiling.

Emmy’s eyebrows pull together and she scoots herself on his chest. She pulls on his chin until his pretty blue eyes meet hers.

“What’s on your mind?” she asks.

Luke brings his left arm down from behind his head to settle it on her waist. His fingers slip beneath her shirt to tickle her back and goosebumps rise at his feather light touch on her skin.

“I think I want to go back home.”

“To Aus?”

“N-no . . . my house. Here. In LA,” his Adam’s apple works in his throat.

“Oh,” Emmy squeaks then clears her throat. “Okay. When? Today?”

“Maybe. Yeah. . . I think so. I don’t know,” he closes his eyes breathing deeply through his nose.

“I’ll go with you,” she offers, “unless you want to go alone.”

“No, I want you to come with me, lovie. It’ll help having you there.”

“Okay,” she touches his cheek and his eyes open. She smiles softly. “Hi.”

“Hi pretty girl,” he lifts his head stretching forward to give her a soft kiss.

“Can I try something?” she asks resting her hand on his lower stomach.

“Like what?” He gives her a quizzical look.

“Liiiike what you did for me last night. . .” she slides her hand lower under the sheet and onto his boxers. She rubs her palm over his dick gently and Luke inhales sharply. “. . . but I want to do it for you.”

“You don’t have to Ems,” he licks his lips as she continues to palm him.

He’s getting harder in her hand and he blinks slowly at her soft tugging.

“I want to,” she breathes leaning up to kiss him and she slips her hand underneath his boxers. He’s warm and soft in her hand as she strokes him lazily.

Luke inhales sharply again, his hand squeezes her waist.

“Can I?” she kisses his neck then slides down the length of his body.

“Mhm,” he hums lifting his hips so she can pull his boxers down.

Emmy kisses his tummy softly and continues to give open mouthed kisses on his skin until she kisses the tip of his dick. She continues to mouth him, opening her mouth to let her tongue swirl around his tip.

“Baby,” he sighs and Emmy takes more of him in her mouth.

“Quiet,” she whispers jerking her head to the door behind her. Michael and Crystal are asleep down the hall and she did not want to wake them up like this.

Luke nods and Emmy hollows out her cheeks to take him in her mouth as far as she can go, salivating on him so she can pump him with her hand. Luke’s grunting and groaning softly, watching her every move. He loves the way her head bobs up and down slowly and the way she swirls her tongue up and down his shaft.

He jerks his hips gently with her movements, his fingers comb through her hair and she moves faster. Luke’s panting heavily until he feels his release coming, with a low grunt and no warning, he’s coming in her mouth.

“Babe, babe, Ems,” he gasps trying to get her mouth off him but she swallows all he’s giving her.

Luke throws his head back on the pillows, heart racing, and his body spent. It’s been so long since he’s gotten head, he’s a little embarrassed it didn’t take him long to orgasm to but to have Emmy doing it for him was amazing.

Emmy wipes the corner of her mouth, wincing a little but gives Luke a smile nonetheless.

“Sorry, that’s . . . it’s been a while,” he sighs blinking slowly.

“Did you like it?” her eyes big.

“Yes, baby, I loved it,” he gives her a glazed smile. “C’mere.”

His fingers are in her hair again and they kiss lazily until Michael is banging on the door complaining about how he’s hungry and they’re all going out for breakfast.

•••••

Emmy joins Luke at the front door of his house, he’s twirling his keys between his fingers. She grabs hold of his bicep and Luke gives a small grin that looks more like a grimace then inserts the key. He takes Emmy’s hand in his and leads her inside.

Emmy looks around the space, it’s very modern with a lot of sharp edged furniture. Everything is in its own place and very black and white. It’s the furthest thing from Luke and Emmy didn’t like it at all.

“Well, this is it,” he gestures, “What do you think?”

“It’s very. . .” Emmy scans the empty kitchen and bare walls. “Clean.”

Luke snorts walking her down the hall. “It’s very Lea. She chose everything.”

Emmy frowns at that and peeks in the rooms before they stop in a bedroom she assumes is his room. It’s also very modern and monochromatic. The only splash of color is from a potted plant in the corner that is surely fake, no wonder Lea chose it.

Emmy moves to the window to see a nice view of of the hills and a small pool that’s in serious need of some care. When she turns around, Luke is sitting on the bed watching her with a thoughtful expression.

“What’s running through your mind, honey bun?” she asks threading her fingers through his curls.

He smiles at the nickname and grabs hold of her thigh, his thumb rubs circles on her exposed skin below her shorts.

“I want to get rid of everything. Repaint the walls, get new furniture and a new bed,” he grins deviously up at her and pulls her closer.

“I think that’s a marvelous idea,” she smiles.

“Do you want to help me?”

“Really? I don’t want to intrude—“

“You won’t,” he shakes his head, “I want your opinion since . . .”

“Since what?”

“Since I want you to visit and I want you to visit a lot and I want you to like it too.”

Emmy melts into his arms, hugging him tightly. His arms are wrapped around her and he pulls her onto his lap.

“Is that okay?” he asks in her ear.

“It’s more than okay. That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, Luke,” she kisses his shoulder.

“You’re the sweetest thing.”

•••••

Luke and Emmy got to work right away on remodeling his house. He donated all of his furniture and hired a cleaning crew for the whole house, and the pool before the painters come.

While the painters were doing their job, Luke and Emmy went furniture shopping. He was a little apprehensive at first, but only because flashbacks of when he and Lea did the same thing she chose everything while Luke followed along silently.

But with Emmy, she made everything fun and lighthearted. She tested each couch cushion, pulling him down with her. It’s like she was goldilocks and Luke felt like he was anything but the big bad wolf like how Lea made him feel.

He decided on a blue couch with gray armchairs for the living room and he chose a king sized bed and a dark red armchair for his bedroom. It would all be delivered by next week which would be crunch time because in two weeks they’d be leaving for Bali.

As they were leaving the furniture store to go decoration shopping, Luke noticed some familiar photographers hanging around across the street. He remembers how Emmy nearly fell the last time she was around the paps and he took hold of her hand.

Was that already two months ago?

Luke keeps glancing at her once he’s driving to the next store and he can’t believe the timeline of him and Emmy.

Growing up, she was always Mikey’s younger sister who wanted to play video games and hang out with them all the time. When their music career began, they lost touch and sight of each other but he thought about her often.

“What’re you thinking so hard about over there?” Emmy pulls him out of his reverie just as they climb out of the car.

“You,” he answers simply holding out his hand for her to take. He doesn’t miss the blush on her cheeks and Luke loves it.

“Oh,” she giggles softly.

The decorating was his favorite thing to shop for because Emmy got so animated about everything she saw. She’d say where it would look best in his house and how it would pair nicely with something else she found in another aisle. Being with Emmy was as easy as breathing and blinking. He didn’t have to think about it, it just . . . felt so right.

Emmy is pointing out bookends that are guitars and Luke steps forward and places his finger under her chin so he can kiss her softly. His lips move against hers slowly, wanting to show her how delicate she is and deserves to be treated with such care.

“What was that for?” she exhales smiling up at him.

“I’m happy you’re here with me, Pip.” Luke’s fingers brush her hair back over her shoulder.

“You haven’t called me that since I got here,” she giggles.

“I know, you’re still my Pipsqueak. I think I’ve got all we need, ready to go back to your brother’s?”

She nods slowly taking his hand and they exit the store. As soon as they step into the hot LA sun, their names are being shouted left and right while a multitude of shutter speeds click a mile a minute. Emmy immediately coils into Luke’s side and he shifts his arm around her shoulders guiding her to the car.

“Is it true you and Lea are talking things through?”

“How does Michael feel about you with his sister?”

“What’s it like dating Luke?”

“Are you moving in together?”

“Do you still love Lea?”

The questions were fired from left and right and each time Lea was mentioned Luke tensed up and it only made him approach the car that much faster. Luke shields Emmy’s body with his own so she could get into the car safely and Luke hurried to his side.

Thankfully, the photographers backed away so Luke could peel out of the parking lot. His hands were shaking against the wheel, he flinches when Emmy grabs hold of his fingers with her own. He lets her place his hand in her lap where she caressed his fingers in a soothing way.

He calmed down immediately.

•••••

A week has gone by and Luke’s house is finally complete. He invites Emmy over first so they can be alone before he shows the others. They did this together and he wanted to revel in their job well done.

“Luke, it’s so amazing!” she gushes eyeing the piano he selected.

The space seems more like Luke, it’s open and warm and full of color.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he smiles leaning against his kitchen counter. He watches her peer at the guitar bookends on his shelf on either side of his TV. Her smile is radiant as she approaches him, his arms hold onto her waist loosely.

“Does it feel like home?”

His eyes search hers before he leans down pressing his lips to hers, he pulls her tighter against him. One hand travels to her neck and her hands hold onto the sides of his waist. The kiss becomes needy quickly and filled with so much desire Emmy gasps for breath but Luke moves his lips to her neck.

Emmy sighs, her fingers play with the ends of his curls that are getting longer before she starts to work on his buttons and his hands slide under her shirt. They remove the articles of clothing onto the floor, Luke’s fingers slip under the straps of her bra gliding them down her shoulders.

Luke pulls his mouth away from hers to look at her, her eyes are shining and her chest is rising heavily as she tries to catch her breath. To his surprise, she unfastens her bra and lets it fall to the floor between them. Emmy lifts her arms around his neck connecting their lips once more and Luke hoists her legs around his waist.

Lips still molding together, he peeks through his lids as he makes his way to his bedroom and places her on his bed gently. He moves to his knees on the floor as he pulls her shorts and underwear off, his mouth hot on her skin as he did so. He kisses up her leg, tongue delving between her pussy lips slowly.

Emmy sighs above him and he hums against her before removing his own clothes. Her hands reach for him as he reaches for her and then he’s hovering above her. Their eyes meet and they have a silent conversation as she settles herself beneath him and takes hold of him.

He kisses her as he pushes into her carefully. Moaning and sighing with bodies rolling like waves, they find the perfect rhythm easily. Their fingers slot together next to her head and their kisses become sloppy as their movements quicken.

They breathe each other in and when she clenches around him, Luke moans her name in her ear as she fills his with the chorus of her moans. As she comes notes and lyrics fill his head and he moves faster, grunting with each pull and thrust until he’s coming as well.

When he’s finished, he lifts his head to see she’s already staring at him, soft expression on her face and their fingers unlock. Soft pecks to her lips and all over her face makes her laugh and he caresses her cheek.

“You feel like home,” he tells her. She bites her lip then cuddles into his chest, kissing every inch of him she can.

•••••

Bali has been nothing but exceptional for Emmy and she loved having Luke show her around to his favorite spots. During the day they’d do activities like zip lining, visit the Uluwatu Temple and the monkey temple where they each got photos of a little monkey on their shoulders.

Each night they’d have dinner with Michael and everybody else then enjoy a large bonfire on the beach where Luke held Emmy between his legs in the sand. Michael kept a careful eye on them both, more so than when they were back home in LA. He picked up on different things here than back at home.

Like how whenever Luke would look at his sister, he’d have an instant smile on his face and when Emmy would be talking Luke listened very carefully. He always walked with her on the inside of the roads and when they’d join together again if they got split up from sight-seeing, he’d kiss her cheek.

Michael took notice of his sister’s actions as well. While they were looking at the trinket shops, her eyes would be on the token in her hand while her other reached for Luke who would be by her side instantly and she hadn’t even said his name. He noticed the way her face brightened when Luke would greet her with a kiss or simply look at her.

It made Michael happy that his best friend and his sister were so happy together. Especially for Luke, he didn’t seem so broken anymore. It also made Michael realize how grown up his sister is now. She’s no longer the little sister who followed them around wanting to play games and listen to their music.

“You’re quiet, that means you’re thinking something,” Crystal says sitting next to him on the couch out by the pool.

Michael’s eyes are focused on Luke and Emmy across the way in the pool. His sister has her legs in the water while Luke’s arms are resting on her thighs and they’re just talking to each other. Emmy dips her hand in the water then slicks back Luke’s curls, she smiles at something he says.

“I think they’re in love,” Michael finally speaks up, his fingers twiddling together.

“I think so too,” Crystal smiles placing her hand over his just as Emmy squealed in laughter as Luke pulled her into the water with him.

Later that night, before everyone disappeared for bed, Michael pulls Luke aside.

“What’s up?” Luke asks.

Michael gazes at one of his best friends for a moment, Luke’s skin color is tanner from the holiday sun, the dark circles under his eyes are gone completely and his eyes don’t have that hard edge to them anymore. He’s a completely different person from when he was with Lea and he had his little sister to thank.

“Um, I know we sort of talked about this at the club but . . . you’re serious about Ems, aren’t you?” Michael flat out asks.

Luke softens at her name and he nods, his fingers run through his unruly curls. Michael’s noticed he’s let his hair grow out, he seems freer.

“Yeah, I am,” Luke breathes, “she’s really special and important to me, Mike.”

“I can tell,” Michael smiles. “I wanted to tell you how happy I am for the both of you and I’m glad you have each other. It’s great seeing you as yourself again, man.”

“It feels good to be myself again, I have her to thank for it. But, uh, thanks for telling me. I still think you’re going to try and beat me up,” Luke chuckles.

“I have thought about it only because of my natural protective brother instincts,” Michael laughs along, “but you’re not a tiny breadstick anymore.”

They bump fists and then hug each other tightly before splitting off in the direction of their rooms.

When Luke finds Emmy she’s just getting out of the bathroom, her hair wet and she smiles at him when she walks by.

“Couldn’t wait to shower with me?” he teases following her to the bed. She sits cross legged in the center of it.

“It was a quick one just to get the sand off. What did my brother want?”

Luke sits next to her and takes her hands in his that are resting in her lap.

“He told me he’s happy we have each other.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Luke’s eyes flicker to hers. “Which is great because there’s something I’ve been wanting to show you. . .”

He pulls out his phone and opens up his voice notes app. Emmy watches him scroll down a few until he presses play and sets his phone on her bare knee.

His singing voice croons through the speaker and the sound of the ocean waves makes it even more special as he sings:

You came and topped them all You shine in the dead of the night And I was the first to fall

Fading away, fading away Wake up to someone with nothing to say I never change, though I'd never change Then you come and change it all

With your love, your love, I'm a better, better man With your love, your love, I'm a better, better man Darling, all of my wrongs, they lead me right to you Wrapped in your arms, I swear I'd….

  When the recording stopped, Emmy stares at Luke with wide eyes as she lets the piano and the lyrics resonate in her mind. He scoots closer to her then brushes his fingers on her cheek, his eyes focused on hers.

“I love you, Emmy,” he breathes without missing a beat.

His voice is soft as petals falling to the floor and Emmy’s heart catapults in her chest. Her lips widen in a smile and she lifts herself onto her knees to give him a big kiss. Luke’s hands hold onto her lower back as he kisses her back then they fall onto the bed together.

“I love you, too Luke,” she says on his lips.

They roll over together, lips and fingers interlocked anchoring each other. Luke’s no longer a castaway adrift at sea from a broken relationship void of love. Now he’s with Emmy, his shining lighthouse who makes him the better man he was always meant to be.

• • • •

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

Taglist: @galcalirwin @cashtonasff5sos @wokeupinjapanisabop @myloverboyash  @rotten-kandy @tea4sykes @jannimoeller3 @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh @here-for-the-uproars @katiaw2 @g-l-pierce 

[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

hey uhhh idk if you write this kind of thing, but i have an alcohol problem. in the past i’ve found your writing about depression really validating bc i’m a big Queen fan and it kind of... normalises my issues? idk, i just wondered if you’d ever write about alcoholism? maybe the band coming to terms with the fact that the affected member isn’t just a “party animal” and actually has an addiction, then getting them help? yh sorry if this is a weird ask 😅

Content Warning for Alcoholism/Alcohol Abuse

♚

John’s eyes fluttered open, the room still spinning, the bathroom lights looking like the spotlights on stage. His cheek was cold and flush against the rim of the toilet seat, his body hunched over it. He spit the foul taste from his mouth into the bowl, lifting his heavy head up, to look over at Roger who was standing by the door.

“At least you made it this time,” Roger said with a chuckle. John smiled at him, nodding slowly in agreement. Throwing up in anything but a toilet or trash can was a definite way to end a party and ruin the mood. And the both of them still had a lot more dancing and drinking to do.

Roger helped him up, John flushing the toilet before washing his hands and rinsing his mouth. The nausea was already fading. A good puke was all it took to get back in the game. It worked nearly every time.

Roger pat John’s back as they walked back out into the party, John intent on keeping up his antics. One instance of vomiting was not going to keep him from participating in this rager.

The music blasted, the bass rattling the windows of Freddie’s house. Colored lights spun all around the room, illuminating the party goers smiles and laughs. The dance floor, which was once Freddie’s living room was packed with hot bodies all pressed against each other, writhing and swinging to the beat that was almost too loud to be heard. Hands groped and pushed, feet shuffling. Heads were thrown back, liquid courage streaming into open mouths.

John lost Roger in the crowd, the blond probably craving another fix of the white stuff going around like candy. John needed his own fix, so he headed for the makeshift bar. One plastic cup, a dash of orange juice and a helping of vodka. His heart sped up as it slithered down his throat, nestling into his irritated and hot stomach. Immediately, the warmth spread through his core, his limbs beginning to feel like lead again, his mind beginning to fog.

He made himself another, forgoing the orange juice in favor of plain vodka. He let out a fiery sigh, now ready to join the others on the floor.

He floated over to a familiar puff of curly hair, a loopy smile on his face.

“Enjoying yourself, John?” Brian yelled over the music.

John began to sway side to side, the music dictating his every move. “Yes,” he said with a bubbly giggle.

Brian couldn’t hear him but figured he was. He continued on with his awkward dancing, his hands in the air, unknowingly moving away from John.

John didn’t care. He let himself get carried away by the funk, his knees bending, shoulders rolling, head bopping. He felt careless and free. He danced up women and men alike, accepting every drink that was pushed into his hands. He was rained with cigarettes and even found his way back to Roger, his nose red and white.

The room was ill-lit, but Roger’s eyes looked black, consumed by the pupil. “Want some?” he asked, holding up a plate. John held up his cup, graciously filled with brandy. He shimmied away, working his way over to Freddie, half naked and drenched in sweat from nonstop dancing.

John wrapped his arm around Freddie’s waist, startling the singer. Freddie playfully slapped John’s shoulder, saying, “You scared me! How’re you holding up, Deaks?” John just hummed the lyrics in response, too far gone to make any sensical words. Freddie found the answer sufficient, letting the two of them bop together to the music for a bit before scampering off to make out with Jim again.

John downed the last of his brandy, the world beginning to spin again. He laughed, unsteadily walking back to the bar for a refill. He could barely coordinate himself, but he got there in one piece. More vodka, his preferred vice. One swig, two swigs, three. A stranger, whooping and hollering, added more to his cup. He couldn’t say no. Down it went.

He unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling with the buttons. It was hot and he was roasting.

Everything became too woozy. He sipped more. The music sounded like blurs. The lights looked like smudges. He sipped. He felt nausea tickling the back of his throat. Another sip.

His conscience told him to stop.

Something deep in his heart told him to not listen.

Bottoms up.

He fell back onto his ass, his cup spilling all over him. He licked at his arms, trying to salvage what he could. And then he laid down.

He was 10 and on a merry go round, laying flat on the middle, being spun over and over, faster and faster by someone he didn’t know. Faster and faster until the sky white and he was soaring.

A torrent of vomit came out of John and all over himself. He rolled over and continued heaving and retching until he was pure again, the floor defiled with his filth.

I didn’t make it this time, Roger, he thought.

♚

“You went real hard last night, John. Just came to see if you woke up this morning,” Brian said as he hung his coat on the coat rack, walking into John’s house.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Got too excited is all,” John said, shuffling to the kitchen in his bathroom, trailed by the guitarist.

Brian chuckled, rubbing his neck. “I think we all did. Roger called me this morning, not knowing how he got home. I was the one who got him the bloody taxi!”

John snorted, walking up to his coffee machine. “He looked manic last night. His eyes were all wild. Sounds about right,” he said, pouring himself a cup, offering one to Brian who declined.

He rummaged through his medicine cabinet, pulling out some over the counter pain killers. This time, Brian accepted the offer.

“Even the virtuous Brian went hard last night, hmm?” John teased, popping 4 tablets into his mouth, swallowing it with the black coffee. Brian waved him off, taking his tablets with water.

“It was Fred’s birthday. Kinda hard to resist the devil when Freddie’s the one throwing the party.”

True that.

Brian sat by the kitchen table, sipping his water and wincing at the sunlight that poured through the window. He became so quite that in John’s hung-over brain, he forgot he was even there.

He poured himself some more coffee, throwing in a dash of sugar, a splash of creamer and a hearty glug of vodka from the flask he had in his robe pocket.

“John, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Brian said, making John jump in surprise.

“Jesus Christ. Sorry. Sorry. Bad habit,” he said softly, his face reddening as he dumped his concoction down the sink.

“Habit? You’re telling me you not only do this daily, in the morning none the less, but you walk around with a flask in your bloody dressing gown?” Brian asked incredulously, the tendons in his hands popping out.

John was faced away from Brian, holding onto the edge of the sink. He squeezed it tight, letting out a sharp puff of air. “I’m hung over. I- it was a mistake is all. Sorry.”

Brian wasn’t so sure about that but left anyways, his welcome clearly overstayed.

Once the door was closed, John ditched the coffee and cream, going straight to his flask.

He wondered if Brian would bring this up again.

♚

John felt a firm slap to the back of his head, flinching as he woke up, looking around for the perpetrator, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth.

“Why’d you even come over if you didn’t want to help?” Roger asked, throwing an oil stained towel at John’s face. John was too slow to catch it. He set the towel down on Roger’s work bench, lazily getting up and toddling over to Roger who was crouched by an old car.

“Sorry. Tired, you know,” John offered, a weak excuse but the only one his hazy brain could make up.

Roger recoiled at his presence, nose scrunching up. “Jeez, John. Were you partying last night?”

John shook his head. He was home all night, watching TV.

“You fucking reek like a pub, mate. What’s up with that?” Roger said, his perfectly blue eyes looking him up and down.

John should’ve probably been scared from the interrogation, but he felt too loose in the joints to care.

“Oh. I had a few drinks,” He admitted easily.

“A few?” Roger spluttered out.

“Maybe more.” John shrugged.

Roger’s lips pressed into a tight line, taking in John. Dirty clothes, disheveled hair. Bloodshot eyes and a 5 o’clock shadow. He didn’t look put together.

Roger looked at the asphalt at his feet and then up to John’s eyes.

“You know...Brian told me he caught you putting vodka into your coffee one morning…is that true?” His head was tilted, eyebrows furrowed.

John thought for a moment. “Probably.”

Roger cleared his throat, not prepared for that answer.

“Are you drunk now?”

“A bit.”

“And you drove here?”

“Mh-hmm.”

Roger got up, dusting his jeans, his head shaking. They all knew John had an affinity for drinking. It was obvious during parties and after shows. The man liked a stiff drink. Who were they to think any worse of it?

But lately, John hadn’t been himself. Sloppier and lax. Always dozing off, always up in his head. They thought he was going through a down period. None of them would’ve guessed he was a functional drunk. Not until right now.

“You need help, John.” Roger said, his voice a mixture of confusion, fear and sternness.

John leaned back to look up at Roger, frowning. “What? No, I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m way passed that mate. You need help and I’m gonna get you it.”

John huffed, standing up, wobbling some. He walked past Roger, back into Roger’s house, saying, “I did not come here to be lectured. I don’t need help. I’m fine. I’m going.”

There was a tight grip to his arm, tugging him backwards. He was now in front of a red-faced Roger.

“And I’m not letting you drive home,” he said, teeth grit.

“You don’t have any right to do that! Let me go, Roger. I’m fine! I’m fine! Let me go!” John hissed, struggling against Roger’s unwavering hold on him.

“Fine,” Roger said, his eyes big as he let John go. John crashed to the floor, his flask and keys flying out of his pocket. He scrambled to pick it up, but swiftly and with sober ease, Roger snatched both of them up. He walked away after that, without so much as a word to John.

“Where are you going?” John yelled, fighting a losing battle with gravity as he tried to get up.

“Gonna make some phone calls. Meet me in the kitchen whenever you can,” Roger replied with a bitter sting.

John gave up, laying down on the cold tile. He shivered, his stomach churning.

I didn’t make it this time, Roger.

♚

Dear John,

I’m terribly sorry I never noticed you were suffering. I should have been a better friend. I took you under my wing after all. I should have noticed.

I hope that here, you can begin to find peace again. I’m still not sure what’s ailing you, but when you get out, we can work on it together, alright? I need you to know that you’re not alone. That you aren’t bad. That you’ve done nothing wrong. The human condition can be treacherous at times. The need to numb it isn’t a sign of failure. It’s a sign of a fight to continue in any capacity possible.

I love you so much, Deacy. I can’t wait to see you again. I want to go shopping with you and maybe you can stay with me and Jim sometime, if you’d want.

Take care of yourself. Heal. Breathe.

Love, Freddie.

♚

John,

I apologize for my lack of initiative to figure things out. I’m sorry I chose my own comfort in ignoring this rather than reaching out. I promise I won’t ever do that again. You are one of my greatest friends. I’ll never do anything to jeopardize that. I need you here with me ‘till I’m old and grey and I’ll make sure that you never go through something like this again.

I pray that once you’re out, we can talk together and do some soul searching. I know what it’s like to be so down that only a substance feels like the right medication. I understand more than I’ve let on to you guys before. You can always come to me to talk. I guarantee you, I probably was there too at one point or another.

Until then, I hope this place does you well. A break from the stress of life is always a good thing. Don’t rush it. Take your time here. Let yourself unravel. Be truthful with the psychologists. Don’t be afraid to sound silly or obnoxious or rude. You won’t be any of those. The mind is a weird place. Let yourself be vulnerable.

I’ll be seeing you soon, Deacy. Keep your head up and you might just see the stars!

Bri.

♚

I’m so sorry.

RMT

♚

John sniffled, putting away the letters his best friends had written for him. He got out of his bed, walking towards the window. He leaned against the windowsill, the morning sun heating up his skin, lighting up his face.

This was the first day he felt completely detoxed. No shakes, no anxiety, no nausea. He finally felt free of the chain around his ankle. He could move better, think clearer, breathe deeper. He felt like this whole recovery thing might work. He might be a human again. No need for liquid crutches. Just a man. A free man.

He cracked open the window, sticking his head out to smell the spring air. His cheeks felt an invigorating cool breeze and not the frigid porcelain for once. A smile tugged at his lips, his hands running through his hair. He was ready for today.

He had group therapy in an hour. He had time to bang out some letters before then. He rushed to his desk, pulling out some pen and paper.

Rog,

Don’t be sorry. It should be me who’s sorry. Without you, without the other guys, I would’ve kept spiraling.

I wouldn’t have made it.

But I’m here and alive and I think I’ll soon start to thrive.

So, I want to thank you. Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for still loving me as a brother even after I yelled and cursed at you. Thank you for taking my life into your own hands. I’ll never be able to repay you. But I’ll try.

I want to tell you about my time here. I don’t know, maybe you’d be interested.

Every morning, we wake up at 8. We get to….

[drakewalkerfantasy]

The fight goes on (Beckett x F!MC): Part 4

Summary: This was already the second day since the Moon attunement awakening ceremony. And Beckett is still somewhere fighting his demons, trying to get back to the girl he loves more than anything. Trying to get stronger for them to finally be able to protect her and stand up to his mother... to fight back. Will he be able to win this battle without losing himself in a process? Will he be able to come back to the girl he loves to protect her? 

Author note’s: This is AU for my MC Maeve Raven and Beckett Harrington. AU where happiness seems not possible for this two but is it so? All characters as usually belong to PB except probably Beckett’s mother, as we still don’t know her and her attunements. Please let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the tag list.

@fluffy-marshmallow-heart huge thank you for you and from stopping me in time so I wouldn’t write chapter too long to read. I appreciate your help and your input. Thank you a lot for your help!!! Also, this AU now will be 1 part longer. I promise it will be finished one day. (3 part approximately left)

Author note’s 2: This lyric belongs to Aria (Kipelov), this is Russian Heavy Metal band and the name of the song is The fight goes on.

Warning: this is angst most of it at least. Violence description!!!!! Please read with caution.

Attunements:

Maeve Raven: Sun and Earth

Beckett Harrington: Moon and Metal

Tagging: @elles-choices @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @boneandfur @walkerismychoice @tmarie82 @feartheendlesssummer @damienazarionos @darley1101 @scgdoeswhat @too-many-choices-too-little-time @littleblossom-18 @harrington-sinclaire @symonde @brightpinkpeppercorn @timmagicktoad @briarsunicorn 

Beckett looked around unable to remember at first how he got there or where he was. His heart pounding fast in the chest, echoing in the darkness. The flashes of almost paralyzing pain and the neck breaking run float in his mind. He stood dangerously close to the edge of the black flaming lake on the rocky shore. Time to time the blue flames raised up lightning the complete darkness of this place. His eyes wandered around, noticing the silvery-smoky cliffs towering around. His heart thundered in his chest and he could feel his bare feet were cut deeply with the rough knife sharp rocks when his clothes were torn apart showing multiple wounds on his well-built body. Beckett’s chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath and calm heartbeats. He felt like a cornered animal, but still not ready to give up. He raised his burning gray eyes meeting the gaze of the woman he once called mother. “She always was a monster, but not the beast”, he thought, looking in her black eyes, her white as ghost skin was covered with veins almost pitch black and her hairs no longer the same color as his. His eyes lowered to her hands noticing the huge claws covered in blood, he could feel the lump forming in his throat making it difficult for him to breathe. His side sting with pain and he watched the deep gash opening in front of his eyes and healing a moment later. Suddenly realization of where he was flooded on Beckett... the lake of Lost Souls, the “favorite” holiday location for Harrington family. When everyone else in the Attuned world would hardly call it a location to spend family time together their mother insisted on it, saying that this would "toughen him up” and bring them closer to Harrington Heritage. The memories that were suppressed a long time ago, started to awaken in him, bringing pain along. He could hear his mother’s cold scratchy voice, taking him back to the days when he and Katrina were kids: 

“You should embrace this pain Beckett,” she said coldly, indifferently watching her son’s cut knees covered in blood, “Go back to the shore and into the lake, I really hope that this time it works and your first attunement will be finally suppressed. This should let you finally become Blood attuned. And after this will be done you finally will be able to feed on the fears of others and take the powers from the Lost Souls lake, as everyone in our Heritage could do.” He slowly started to step back, feeling the burning heat of the black waters nearing to him. His heart racing in the rising panic, when the memory of nightmares he had for days after each visit flooded on him. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide... he was stuck in there, cornered to fight, surrounded from all sides and no help to come.

He slowly looked around feeling that beasts that surrounded him are waiting for a command to start, raising his eyes again to meet his mother’s cold stare looking through him. Beckett could feel his battle started with the whispering thoughts flooding his minds and with one of the beasts coming forward with the roar. His wolf's body stopped, ready for the jump, his eyes seemed to sparkle with lightning, and saliva flowed from its mouth.

“Always second... always falling short... ”, he could hear his own voice coldly ringing inside of his head, trying to push every other thought out, “no second attunement, no achievements. Always failing everyone and not reaching their expectations. Whatever you do, it won’t be good enough, cause you’re not good enough. Why fight if you end up losing anyway...,” pessimistic, a self-sabotaging voice rung inside his head actively discouraging him even from trying.

Meanwhile, another quiet voice with a hint of ancient power reached him sounding stronger and louder than his own. “You can do this. You are nothing but an overachiever. You good enough and you need to fight back. Fight, you can do this.” he could feel his strength rising in him and magick comes free. He could see the beast throws himself at him sharply. His claws leave light scratches on Beckett’s arm, but he easily overpowers him by throwing him on the cliff watching him dissolve in a puff of smoke. But he knew that his battle had just begun, watching the next beast taking a step forward waiting for a command. He could see black panther body glow in the dark and sword-like teeth were glistening with drops of blood, slowly flowing down on the sharp stones in front of him. 

And with the next beast, other thoughts rushed toward him, knocking every other thought out. “If someone would actually care if you would just disappear? Just dissolve in this nightmare caused by your mother or something you have no power over?” the laughing cold voice spoke mockingly, still in a whisper, but stronger than before, “Always lost and unwanted... Abandoned and rejected... You always felt like no one cares about you. No one wants to talk to you. No one wants to listen to you. Every single day is a repeat of the last. Why do you care now if someone would, when your own family never paid you much attention? Why fight, if no one will care about you anyway...“ He could feel how his will been crushed and his legs bending bringing him to his knees. His thoughts bubbling knocking one another until a familiar voice, which began to get lost in the nooks of his memory took over, whispering and making sure it was heard: “You know it’s not true. Deep, somewhere deep inside you know someone cares about you. So stand back and fight. Fight for the people who care.” Groaning he started to rise from his knees. He could feel how his hands got pressed into sharp stones, that dig into his palms cutting them. Beckett was barely able to react before the huge beast’s frame pounced on him. Beast’s teeth barely missed him, scraping his shoulder deeper. Beckett could see drops of blood forming on the wound edges, before healing. He quickly moved to the side sending spell in the Beast’s direction not letting to attack again. He sends incantation after incantation getting out of breath. Feeling more and more scratches on his body, finally sending the beast across the field watching it hit the cliff and disappear.

Beckett stood still, his hands on his knees heavily breathing, trying to stay calm watching another beast taking the place in front of him. He looked darkly at bear form noticing his bloodshot eyes and metallic claws tapping on the ground. He groaned from tiredness and despair, but still tried to fight the voices inside his head still quiet, but growing louder with each new beast’s attack. He can hear another cold voice reverberating inside his head: “Always so ungrateful... always so distant... Unloving son... unloving brother. You should be ashamed of yourself... Katrina will be so hurt by you,” the thought of this shoots straight through Beckett, making his face change to the pained expression and tear welled up in his face, “You should care more... sacrifice more... but instead.... instead you abandon us...abandon us and chosen her... this no one. showing once again how less you care about your family... your Heritage. Your Sister...” He could hear struggled cry escaping his throat, his fists clenched and he bit his lip trying to prevent another cry from escaping. And again the calming, but powerful voice tried to get to him, finally making it possible to be heard: “The family is not always by blood. It’s the people in your life who want you in theirs. The ones who accept you for who you are. The ones who are worthy of that title. If you don't care about them, it's not because to you they don't matter. it’s because they've never proven themselves to you. Because they never cared for you. Never gave you love you deserve. No one... except Katrina. They abandoned you, they tortured you. But you still tried to be worthy of them, to love them, to care about them.” Shaking his head desperately he closed his eyes, internal pain floating on him taking over all his senses. Beckett tried so hard to stay convinced that he is a horrible person because he didn't care as much about his family as he thought he should. But the caring voice inside his head repeated the same again and again like a mantra, making him finally see the truth. Opening his eyes he met bloodshot eyes of the beast, his heart thudding inside his chest, his breath ragged. He could see the beast rushed at him attacking, beast’s metallic claws dig him in the side tearing his flesh apart, his teeth сlacked in dangerous proximity to his neck. Beckett tried to push him away, using all remaining strength left using various incantations to keep him away, trying to think of something that may finish this beast. He tried to keep him away and to stay alive, feeling beast’s claws scratching him, leaving deep bleeding marks on his body. He didn’t know how much time had passed, feeling exhausted from the fight. It seemed that he is losing it, making the last effort Beckett said yet another incantation sending the beast over the shore’s edge watching it dissolve in the black lake’s waters. Beckett stood for a moment watching in the waters remembering himself standing there experiencing the pain that could easily kill him, but with the magick of his mother, he survived. Somehow he managed to survive this hell. Bracing himself, he took calming deep breathes before turning to the last beast left. His eyes blown wide and his pulse rising, while he could feel the fear pulsating inside his blood trying to force him to run, trying to force him to hide. In front of him stood bulk two-headed wolverine with blade-like fangs and razor-claws. He fell on his knees feeling the crushing, screaming voice inside his head. 

“Always so insecure... Always hiding your true feelings... Ready to run away... Ready to put the mask. So why do you think this time is any different? You never were good enough in building a meaningful relationship, so why do you think this girl is any different?” the voice grew even louder, mocking, not letting anything else to interrupt, “You never were open for anything serious... Never believing that anyone would want the real you, always hiding, always putting the mask. The Harrington your mother would be proud of.” Beckett groaned trying to push these thoughts away, fighting them, rising to his feet proudly, feeling that he needs to fight as this is the only real thing left in his life, the only thing worth fighting for. He watched the beast rushing at him not giving chance to react, feeling the sharp fangs dig in his body, making his blood gash from the wounds. He could feel the shooting pain in his leg, falling on the ground, watching as another bloody stain sodden remains of a ripped shirt on his chest. He cannot run feeling a splitting pain in his torn leg, hearing cold shrieking voice returns inside his head: “Always cold... Always too proud... You are not good enough for her. Too different to be together... Too opposite for each other...  Maeve shines as bright as the sun and you bring the darkness. You will never be able to love her the way she deserves... never will be able to love her like someone else could. Will you stole it from her? Will you prevent her from true happiness she deserves?” Beckett can feel tears welling in his eyes fighting the voice inside his head, feeling like his heart was ripped out of his chest. He still standing on his knees, panting heavily, trying to stand up but falling one more on the ground hearing his knees with the sharp stones biting back scream. He could feel desperation binding his heart, trying to get deeper inside it, conquering him to its will, suppressing him. Beckett slowly closed his eyes causing the image of Maeve in front of his gaze, trying to remember everything about her to the smallest detail. Her shining golden hair draped down softly curling along the ends sparkling on the sun. Her eyes smooth green on the edges contrasted beautifully with the amber color in the middle. When she was happy they were warm, lively, and sparkled with mirth. When she was sad they seemed to grow dim and dark. Her smile lightened everyone’s mood leading to sudden happiness. She often scrunched her nose, throwing back her head with contagious laughter. And the barely noticeable freckles lay over her nose and upper naturally blushed cheeks. He could even smell her lavender and wild berries scent calming him internally, making his thoughts get together.

Beckett finally opened his eyes watching directly into the beast’s blood craving eyes. He could feel how the image of her calmed his breathing and how the light started to disperse the darkness around him. He lowered his eyes to notice how his leg begun slowly to heal, beast watched him with curiosity before striking again. He barely had time to react rolling to the side hitting his shoulder on the sharp stones, screaming from the cutting pain and trying to stand up. He could see the beast who had lost the sight of him for the moment unfolds making another throw. Beckett’s brains start to work faster looking for the spell he could use for protection, creating the shield around him. He could watch the beast methodically weakening it with every pounce, sending the fire flame spell onto him, feeling the smell of burning flesh and fur. Taking advantage of the opportunity, while the beast thrashed in pain, Beckett attacked again throwing advanced incantation but feeling like someone suppressed his will... feeling like he started to lose his powers, again plunging into darkness. He raised his eyes meeting the cold gaze of his mother’s, who was still standing on the cliff watching the battle. He could sense the beast started to get stronger growing in size and the flames covering it has died down. With the speed of lightning, the beast rushed at him, cutting Beckett’s chest with razor-sharp claws making him gasp automatically putting his hands over the deep cuts. He stood still feeling strength leaving him with blood flowing from his wounds, slowly sliding to his knees. Still not ready to give up without the fight, he tried to stand up facing the beast, groaning in pain. He raised his eyes up darlingly meeting the scoffing gaze of his mother. He could feel how his heart drops crushing under the sight. On the cliff at his mother's feet was standing Maeve: her dress torn, her blond hairs dirty and mussed, her face covered in cuts and her earthy eyes are still fiery and challenging. Beckett could feel scream stuck in his throat and his eyes widened in horror. He wanted to jump up and run towards her, he wanted to save her, but the paralyzing fear kept him frozen in place. He tried his best to rise, failing again and again, in despair hitting the sharp stones with palm, piercing the already wounded hand. He could feel the lump forming inside his throat, fear and anger boiled inside him, his fists clenched and his eyes focused on two figures on the cliff trying to fight the paralyzing fear inside him. The cold voice inside his head murmured to him: “You are too weak... too scared. You are never was able to protect her and will never be able to do this. The only thing you will cause is pain. More and more pain. Do you really want her to end like this... dead?” The thoughts are too loud inside of his head and fear is too big to hear anything else except this cold, emotionless voice. But he still tries without taking his eyes off Maeve, trying to rise, groaning in pain. Beckett pushed himself up, finally making a step forward. The following events seem to happen at the same time, making his heart to freeze and crash when he saw how his mother yanks Maeve from her knees like a rag doll and pushes to the edge of the cliff, making her take a step forward. Beckett tries to run to her, but the huge beast blocked his way pouncing on him digging his sharp fangs in his neck. And the last thing he sees before his gaze became clouded is Maeve’s body disappearing into the darkness, crashing onto sharp stones.

Maeve sat on the wooden chair, that Professor Kontos brought her after she flatly refused to leave Beckett’s side. Her eyes, red from days of crying, fixed on his motionless body looking for new wounds to heal. She couldn’t touch him, as every time she did his face became the mask of pain and she couldn’t bear to see it. But she still could heal him putting some light in his darkness and removing new wounds that were opening on him. 

- I failed you, - she whispered, moving closer to him and placing her head next to his on the stone elevation trying carefully not to touch him, - I’m so sorry, I have failed you, - she sobbed watching the gashed wound opening at his side concentrating her eyes on it, making it glow before disappearing. Her hand unconsciously fiddling with Beckett’s watch he left her, taking them off and then putting them on again. Somehow sensing his presence in them and feeling closer to him. She could hear someone’s steps behind her, but without even turning, she continued to roam Beckett’s body for new wounds, rolling his watch between her fingers.

- How is he, - asked Professor Kontos nearing to Maeve and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder squeezing it lightly.

- I don’t know..., -whispered Maeve barely audible, - I think... I think he is losing it. His wounds become more severe and harder to heal. How long do you think he will be like this?

- Ms. Raven, it’s hard to tell how much longer he will spend in this state. As I said before, what was done with him is unforgivable and in most cases irreversible. Most of Attuned who tried to awaken suppressed attunements ended up dead or never were able to wake up. The ones who came back... let’s say no one can predict if there will be no changes IF he will be back.

Maeve sighed, new tears flowing from her eyes, dripping onto the stone elevation. She nervously fiddling with Beckett’s watch, her hands are shaken slightly and in the next attempt to take them off she drops them on the floor. Professor Kontos looking as the watch slowly hits the surface illuminating a blue glow for a split second, but for long enough to attract his attention. Picking them up from the floor, he carefully began to study them, turning them over in his hands.

- Hmmm, this is interesting, - mumbled Professor, - I never have seen anything as spectacular as this.

- Professor, what do you mean?

- I mean, that this watch is full of the Moon power, - he started raising his eyes to meet Maeve’s, - how did you get them? This is very valuable, powerful artifact...

- Beckett... he gave it to me when we parted.

- Did he know the value of this thing?

- I don’t think so... for him... for him, this was a gift from his grandmother, the woman who basically raised him, - they fall in silence before Maeve pulled Professor from his thoughts, - Professor Kontos, can we... can we use them to help Beckett? To pull him out of the coma, if they are so powerful as you think they are.

- Ms. Raven, unfortunately, this will not do. This watch holds great power, but they can be used just by the owner whose power is in them. Unless...

- Unless some of my Sun power was put in there. Professor, I once used this watch during the Locator spell, can this be possible...

- Ms. Raven, this is too long of a shot to take a risk. You already weakened yourself by healing Mr. Harrington’s wounds. And I doubt you got any sleep during the last three days. And we still don’t know how long he will be in there.

- I know what you are thinking, but I said this already and I will say it again... I will not leave his side. If we cannot pull him from a coma, I will at least stay there to heal him, - Maeve looked back at Beckett, the single tear rolling down her cheek, - I promise you, - she whispered, healing another wound on his chest, - I will bring you back. I'll do whatever it takes to bring you back...

[myprincecandy]

[ENG] ZTAO on SuperELLE Winter issue 2017

*scans credit to lunchbox0502

Text under the cut  

“I was very mischievous as a kid. When I was 7 years old, I insisted on racing an uncle. He said no, but I didn’t care and started running. In the end I fell to the ground, and the back of my head hit on a sharp edge. There was no bleeding, but you can see bruises. At about 12 midnight, I suddenly started vomiting, and so my parents sent me to the hospital. Afterwards my doctor said that the injury on my head had began to put pressure on the nerves and if they had come 2-3 minutes later, I would have died or become a vegetable.”

Even though his head hurt, Huang Zitao was still smiling when he went on the operation table. And then he fell asleep. He had craniotomy (surgical operation) done, got dozens of stitches, and till now, there’s still a scar on the back of his head.

It was 8 at night, in a dressing room in Beijing. Dressed in a simple white tee and pale blue denim jeans, he sat in front of the makeup mirror, talking about that childhood story of his, all the while looking a tad tired. As he spoke he leaned towards the mirror, examining his eyes, which were bloodshot as he had been working for 10 hours straight.

However, according to what we’ve heard, despite the dangerous situation, he fell asleep on the operation table smiling.

Huang Zitao also had high fever. He was just 9 days old, and had to stay a total of 15 days in the hospital. And towards the end of 2016, he suddenly fainted at the airport. That rigorous and relentless schedule had taken its toll on his heath.

“I’ve been through a lot, including moments like these where I’m close to death. But I’ve made it through, “he said, summing it all up.

“So do you have the feeling like good fortune is bound to follow after surviving all those difficulties & hardship?” “Yes”

24-year-old Huang Zitao shows his talents unabashedly and doesn’t compromise/settle with perceived norms. His weibo id is “SwaggyTao” (note: it’s  CPOPKing-SwaggyT now) and the number of people he follows is zero. Swaggy (in slang) means cool. He likes to show his right profile, cares about his hairstyle, loves to have eyeliner makeup for stage performances, but doesn’t like always being asked questions about this or that. That is the part he is stubborn about.

He has grown and changed much in various areas too. Such as acting. “When I first came back, I didn’t want to act. But later on I found out that that couldn’t work. Being purely a singer, means that others might not necessarily know who you are. “

“Railroad Tigers” was his first proper movie. While filming in the bitter coldness of North-eastern China, he was down with chicken pox. There was a scene which was shot on top of the train, and there were a few dangerous moves that required the actor to be tied up. Each time the cloth/rope tightened or pulled on him, the sound of the chicken pox bursting could be heard. Because he couldn’t do anything to ease the itch, he cried as he was filming.

Acting helped him to truly know himself. In “The Game Changer”, he played Fang Jie, a frank, hot-blooded, sometimes brash and impulsive young man who also really valued friendship and ties. “I feel that there are certain similarities in Fang Jie and my character.”

But that sort of character also put him at a disadvantage. 2 years ago, the smear attacks on him were widespread and vicious.

The way Huang Zitao dealt with it is truly remarkable. “All those who said I wasn’t good, I didn’t respond to them directly. I wrote it all in my rap. So please, those of you who likes to vilify me, criticize me or quote me out of context, please do continue to attack me. That way I can write even better stuff for my rap.”

Since his return in 2015, Huang Zitao has released in total, 1 physical album, 1 mini EP, and dozens of original singles. He’s been recognised as the leader of C-POP. C-POP is Chinese pop, popular music that belongs to China. Huang Zitao wants to let the whole world listen to China’s music. “I’m willing to hold the flag of C-POP.”

The staff says that he’s a typical Taurus when it comes to work. He’s more stubborn, and will stand firm when it comes to things that he wants to persist on/continue with, such as making music, or maintaining his figure. For about 2 years, he essentially didn’t eat dinner so that he could slim down and look better on screen.

Compared to his hardwork and stubbornness, Huang Zitao wins over his fans more by his unpredictability. There’s such a comment on him from Zhihu (a Chinese Q&A website) :” forthright, with a natural sense of humor, ability to poke fun at himself, and is a very attractive/charming person.”

He’s very wiling to talk about the little elf videos he’s been posting on Weibo story, and is proud that he has managed to make so many people laugh. His staff revealed that sometimes when they are chatting, Huang Zitao will suddenly pat someone at the back to scare them. If he sees that everyone’s mood is somewhat down and gloomy, he’ll sing to liven things up. Because of this, when on set, all the crew likes him.

He’s also very down to earth. He’s super good at bargaining. Recently during at trip to a theme park, a staff member spent 20 bucks on rabbit ears. He said that he’ll be able to get in just 5 bucks. When fans gave him a small toy duck, he asked fans how much that cost. He then took a look and said that the price they’ve gotten it at was too high.

He carries a bit of a “idol burden” when he has no makeup on in private, but is astonishingly candid. Once when he was in the States, fans wanted to take a photo with him. His reply was “I can’t but I can go on the roller coaster ride with you once.” Another incident was in China where someone wanted to take a photo of him. He said, “Sorry you can’t, but you can secretly take one.” It’s not hard to understand why fans lovingly call him ���the silly, sweet boy”.

But the 24-year-old idol already understands the price of fame. He says “Dreams are wonderful, but they are also cruel. “He himself feels that he been through more things than say a 34 year old, but his staff’s own critique of him is that, “There’s two sides to him, the three year old and the thirty year old. Right now, there’s more of the thirty-year-old present.”

He’s also very conscious/aware and feels that “there’s no need to care too much about things like popularity. In the long run, what’s going to be passed down are your works. When you have solid work, popularity will naturally follow.” That brings to mind a phrase from his book “Iteration 2.4”. “I may have had my spirits dampened by reality once, but I’m still as passionate as ever before.”

Q&A : Tearing down labels that don’t belong to me

 Q: Why do you not follow anyone on Weibo? 

ZTAO: I don’t use weibo much. Lately I haven’t been posting much of anything except on Instagram. Because Instagram is quite popular overseas, I have used it to share many music videos. I feel that hip hop culture belongs to foreigners. C-POP has not really happened in China. Right now, what I’m doing, is a good start. Many overseas folks do follow me, I have this ability.

 Q: What are the differences in the requirements for tune/lyrics, in making music for everyone versus making music solely for China? 

ZTAO: I don’t think about that that much. I just feel that if I wrote it in English, then it wouldn’t be C-POP. I’ll sing it in Chinese, and it’s ok if the overseas folks can’t understand it. Just listen to the melody. Let me tell you what is Chinese rock. I feel that it’s no longer an age whereby people looks solely at lyrics. That age has already passed.   

Q: Then what do you care about? 

ZTAO: The simplest things are the best. I don’t write about others. The things I write about are all my personal experiences, using the simplest way to express all of it. That’s my song. It’s alright that some people prefer listening to the type of songs in the past. There are also people who like me. And I feel that the songs I write, will get the attention of those born in 2000s, and possibly even the folks 20, 30 years later. I want to conquer the youth market. The new era will come. China’s music industry has been down for so long, it’s time for it to come back. 

Q: So are you a person full of positive energy in private? 

ZTAO: I have a lot of principles, which I actually rarely talk about with others. Once you’ve been through and survived a lot of setbacks, you’ll find that you’ve grown again. Now I’m 24 years old. All that I have and own, might be more than say, a 34-year-old. Hence, when a person has so much, why don’t/shouldn’t they treat others better? 

Q: What’s your attitude towards being attacked/having labels thrust upon you? 

ZTAO: Basically, I never responded to those attacks. I just used my works to slowly prove myself. I have not done anything bad, harmful or illegal. It’s all labels and things that others pin onto me. I have used at least 2 years, to tear down those labels. I believe time will prove everything. 

Q: Back when you weren’t so strong, have you had moments when you were close to breaking down? 

ZTAO: It’s never one single incident or matter that causes a major breakdown. It’s the accumulated stress, repression and all that negativity. Things that never happened somehow became a big deal, but I had not done anything wrong. That really made me feel very unhappy. 

Q: Before the airing of “A Chinese Odyssey: Love of eternity”, you seemed pretty rueful, and wrote down some reflections on life in Weibo. 

ZTAO: Actually I didn’t quite want to take on the project in the beginning. I feel that there was no need to play something that’s such a classic. I’m not really a good fit for the image of a monkey. Later on I took it on because eI felt that, regardless of how classic Stephen Chow’s take on the character is, I could make one that’s entirely my own. 

Q: We’ve heard that all that monkey fur and makeup took 4 hours when you were filming in Yinchuan? 

ZTAO: It was 4-5 hours in the beginning and gradually reduced to 2-3 hours. Had to wake up at 5 to do the makeup. It was the happiest set I had been on. The atmosphere was good. 

Q: The Monkey King has superpowers. And this is usually realized through technology in the modern society. Amongst those futuristic/technological movies, which do you like?

ZTAO: I pretty much like all of Marvel’s series, such as X-Men, Wolverine etc. The degeneration of humans begin as technology becomes more and more advanced. I feel that AI will triumph over the human brain. 

Q: That’s rather pessimistic of you. Humans have no superpowers, but as an artist, you need some, what’s your view of that? 

ZTAO: Actually I can focus on doing one thing, it’s just that my endurance’s not that great. I can’t stay on set every day for 3 months. I can’t. I need to take a break. It could be just a trip out to another event and I’ll be fine when I get back. 

Q: In the new drama “The brightest star in the sky”, you’re the lead role, producer and music producer. Why make this drama? 

ZTAO: I play a singer in this drama, and it’s similar to my own story. After I’ve made the decision to do a drama related to music, I looked over many scripts before making changes to one, forming a team etc. It feels custom made. Later on when I got set, we changed almost every scene, a lot of what’s so dead on the script came alive. 

Q: On the inside, you need to steadily build up the layers to your identity and energy. For your appearance, your makeup each time is always so attention grabbing. What are your views on make up?

 ZTAO: Makeup gives me more creativity, it also helps to refine a man’s looks, and make me more confident in myself. Each time I make the decision with my makeup artist, depending on the needs of the different events.

[damndescendants]

Everything You Need

Writer - @damndescendants

Requested - @jugheadismyking

Hey! This was a longer request so I thought it would be easier to pm you xxx I was wondering whether you could write a Harry hook X reader based on the lyrics of "Tribulations" by Matt Maeson (specifically the lines about running away). I was thinking maybe they could get in an argument and Harry just kind of explodes and scares the reader. Thought it would be nice to show a more vulnerable side of Harry when he feels guilty and tries to patch things up. 

Disclaimer - I do not own any of Descendants’ characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney Descendants

•

Pairing - Harry Hook x Reader

Summary – After getting in a fight Harry has to make it up to (Y/N)

Warning(s) - swearing, abuse, beating people up, remorse, and fluff

“Why are you always like this?!” Harry’s voice screamed out at me as we continued arguing.

What were we arguing about? Beats me at this point. Both of us were to stubborn to let the other but what Harry did next, although it was my fault he did it, shocked both of us.

“Sometimes I don’t get what runs through that head of yours!” I yelled back. “You’re just like your father, I swear!” I regretted it nearly instantly.

Harry whipped his head over to look at me and quickly came up to me, placing his hand around my neck and pushed me back against the wall, staring me dead in the eye. His pulps were more then blown, he was at a new level of furious.

“Take. That. Back.” He growled out at me, his accent dripped venom.

“I-I’m sor-sorry. Please don-don’t.” I said scared as my eyes filled with tears, I had been in this situation multiple times before with my father, Hades, when he had one of his fiery tantrums. None of them really turned out to pleasant on my end.

“(Y/N).” Harry’s voice quieted down as he backed away looking at his hands horrified, eyes began filling with tears. “I’m s-so sorry. I don’t kno- know why I di-did that.” He stumbled over his words as he backed away from me.

“I have to go.” I said and moved past him but he tried to grab my arm and I flinched away still scared, “You promised me.” I said as the tears began to fall and I left our shared room and quickly ran off the ship and began walking the streets and alleyways of the Isle.

I had been walking for a while, at least an hour by this point, trying to clear my head when I was approached by Scar’s son, Scout. Scout and Harry had always butt heads so it wasn’t shocking that he came up to me seeing as I wasn’t with Harry.

“What are you doing out and about, sweetie?” His voice purred out to me.

“Not trying to talk to you.” I said.

“You’ve got an amazing mouth on you, I can’t wait to see what else it can do.” Scout got closer to me.

“Get the hell away from me before I make you regret it.” After threatening him, for the second time tonight, I was grabbed by the throat and slammed against the nearest wall hard, making me hit my head hard. Pain began shooting throughout my entire body, this couldn’t be good.

“Don’t speak to me like th-”

“She can talk to you however she wants.” The accent said as he appeared from the shadows in a blur to me. “Get your nasty paws off of her before you lose them.” Harry grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him away from me, not letting him retaliate.

I tried regaining my breathe but my vision still blurred from that blow to the head. I leaned against the wall I was just pinned to and watched the scene unfold before me: Harry was beating up Scout once again. Scout tried fighting back but Harry was too angry and overpowered him easily. 

“Har-Harry.” I called out, I felt weak and ready to pass out. How hard did I hit my head?

“(Y/N)?” Harry picked up and let go of Scout telling him to leave now and he quickly ran off with a bloody face.

“Help.” I breathed out as I tried to step towards him but I felt my legs give out underneath me. Harry caught me and I looked up into his usual electric blue eyes that were beyond bloodshot and still full of tears.

“I’ve got you.” Harry said as he picked me up bridal style and began walking, “I’ve always got you.” I heard before I allowed the blackness to take over me.

I awoke gently, surrounded by fluffy white sheets and a slight pounding in my head, I sat up to realize I was back to the place I called home. I looked around for Harry and found him fast asleep in the chair by the desk, his arms were crossed across his chest but I could still see that his hands wrapped in bandages, his hook thrown onto the desk that his feet were rested on. He looked peaceful, his mouth was slightly open letting little snores out every once and a while. I smiled at the sight. Why was I ever even mad at this boy? The boy I called the love of my life.

I stood slowly and walked over to him, brushing his matted brown hair out of his face. He began stirring slightly. His bright baby blues opened up to the world and he blinked a few times before getting up quickly realizing I was awake.

“You’re okay?” He whispered and took my face in his hands and I placed my hands over his and nodded my head.

“Why weren’t you in bed with me?” I questioned looking at him.

“Because...beacause I failed you.” Harry said then fell to his knees in front of me, he wrapped his arms around my lower back and thighs pulling me against him, his head rested on my stomach as I felt his tears began to wet my loose t-shirt.

“What? No you didn’t.” I said and put one of my hands on his shoulder and the other I laced threw his hair.

“I promised you I’d never hurt you and I did.” He kept crying, it was a scary sight for me to see him so upset. “I failed you.”

“Harry you didn’t mean it. I forgive you.” I was still trying to calm him down.

“Darling, can't you see I'm a broken man With addictive tendencies And I love you But I don't ever think I can Ever learn how to love just right So run away from me.” Harry’s words bringing tears to my eyes as I saw how he truly saw himself and it broke my heart.

“Harry.” I said and looked down at him as he pulled his face out of my shirt to look at me, “Shut up. I love you and I’m never leaving your side.” I fell to my knees beside him and kiss him deeply which he returned our tears combining.

“Can we go back to sleep now? My head still hurts.” I laughed a little lifting the mood slightly.

“I’m gonna kill that kid.” Harry growled out referring to Scout.

“First, let’s nap.” I smiled and he nodded as he smiled back, pulling me up with him and then lead me to our bed. He laid down then opened his arms for me to join him and I did. His large frame swallowed mine and he held me as we fell back asleep, knowing everything was falling into place because when you love everything you have, you have everything you need.

A/N I’m sorry this is so short but I hope you enjoy and I hope it was everything you wanted if not let me know. Thank you guys for over 1000 followers! :) this isn’t proofread as usual I am sorry lol PS. This song (Tribulations by Matt Maeson) is actually amazing in my opinion. Check it out!

[cecehathaway]

Honor Thy Mother | Para

Tagging: Dorothy McCoy-Turner & Lena McCoy-Bell; mentions of the late Dr. Diana McCoy & Eugene McCoy Location: The McCoy-Bell home; Queens, NY Time Frame: Throughout the day, Thurs. Nov. 16, 2017 General Notes: content warnings--loss, mourning, grief, death and the like are discussed here.

A sky blue prayer candle burned from the moment Lena got up to feed Francesca that morning. The house was quiet, save the infant’s cries letting her mom know that she was awake. Lena wasn’t much of a cook, but after she had her daughter tended to and the babe fell back asleep, she started readying breakfast for her and Dorothy.

Their mom loved fruit and pastries for breakfast, but she had a particular love for banana chocolate chip pancakes, and Lena knew she could manage that like she had every November 16th the past nine years. She was dwelling on one of her personal favorite memories of their mom as she poured chocolate chips in with the pancake batter. 

Their dad was away for work but their mother, Diana, was off for the day and still in her pajamas. It was a Saturday which meant no school for her or Dorothy. Lena had come downstairs to the smell of chocolate and bananas filling her nose. Her mother’s striking blue eyes were focused on the hot skillet as she poured some batter inside, followed by a small bit more, and then another small addition.

“Good morning, princess Lena,” she greeted without having to turn around.

Lena rubbed at her eyes, “Mm..morning, Mom.” 

Diana then started to hum a happy, march-like melody to herself, and soon flipped the pancake over. Lena’s unkempt morning curls lowered to the kitchen table, she was still half asleep but when she looked up again, she saw her mom had added to her humming with a side-to-side swish of her hips. 

Lifting her head in confusion, Lena asked, “What are you doing, mom?”

Diana merely looked over her shoulder and threw her daughter a smirk before tending to the skillet again, still humming and swaying.

A smile broke out on Lena’s sleepy face, “Mooom! What song is that?”

Diana hummed a little louder as she added butter to one side of the pancake and then set it aside on a plate. She started on another one, pouring it the same as the other. Finally, as she picked up the plate where the finished pancake was and turned around, Diana marched away from the stove and towards the kitchen table where Lena was sitting. On the way, she sang the song she had been humming:

“Who’s the leader of the club, who’s made for you and me? M-I-C, K-E-Y, M-O-U-S-E!” 

By the time she got to spelling out ‘Mickey Mouse’, she set the plate on the table revealing that she made it in the shape of Mickey’s head. Lena’s face lit up while a peal of giggles spilled from her mouth. She didn’t pick up on the lyrics other than the spelling part, but she bobbed her head from side to side while her mom poured syrup on the plate and she started to eat it.

An even younger Dorothy came downstairs soon after, donning stripped footie pajamas and two pom poms of curls on her head. In no time at all, the three of them were bouncing about the kitchen, enjoying Mickey Mouse pancakes and the song.

This memory stayed with Lena all through the time it took her to prepare breakfast. 

Towards the end, Dorothy had woken up and came waddling into the kitchen. She hadn’t slept well but waking up to the familiar smell of banana chocolate chip pancakes was a welcome start to the otherwise somber day. Her eyes were a bit puffy and her back ached terribly but she enjoyed the meal at the table with her sister. 

Dorothy had her fond memories of her mother, but it was impossible to avoid the miserable memories with them. She couldn’t help thinking how different things might have been had her mom not gone away to help smaller pockets of the country still struggling to gain access to the virus’ antidote, years after the cure had been found. How upset she had been with her mom for not having had a vaccine or something--anything to help guard her from getting it too before she went. How angering it was that no one had realized until it was too late, that she, too, had contracted it in the midst of helping others.

Dorothy remembered being in high school, maintaining a great start to her senior year and having finished submitting her college applications. She applied to some of the greatest universities in the country: Stanford, Harvard, UCLA, Northwestern, and of course, NYU. Her mom helped her, encouraged her and promised to be there for each envelope she opened when she heard back from the schools. 

But it was a promise that couldn’t be kept. Diana’s health rapidly declined after her returned, and by the time it was discovered that she had contracted the virus, she was swiftly quarantined to prevent spreading. Dorothy remembered being checked by doctors, along with Lena and their father. None of them had picked it up, but the contact from then, until Diana’s final days was limited. Dorothy couldn’t hold her hand, give her a hug, be close to her mom. All she could do was watch from a distance and try her best to tell her mother that she loved her. That she would do her best, for her. That she would help her father and Lena around the house. She did her best not to show how terrified she was, the more the reality sank in that her mother would soon be gone.

Dorothy remembered the funeral. She remembered Lena sobbing the entire day, and repeatedly hugging to console her older sister. She remembered her father--an otherwise talkative and outgoing man--being more silent than she had ever known him to be. She remembered them holding the service in the church her mother loved for them to attend, and the slew of congregation members, colleagues and friends, some of whom Dorothy couldn’t recall ever meeting before--gathering to pay their respects. She remembered the choir singing a beautiful rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In” that continued to haunt Dorothy to this day. She remembered the car ride over to the cemetery, the silence, the ugly green easy-up placed over the plot, and equally ugly, fake grass rolled out beside the dug up grave where they placed three chairs for herself, her sister and her father. She remembered having to help prepare all of this amidst schoolwork she wanted and needed to stay on top of, and giving her father nudges here and there to assist with the arrangements where she could not. She remembered that she only cried for a few minutes when she was called out of class and told the news. And after that, she remembered that she did not cry again, all through the preparations, or the day of until it came time to say goodbye once and for all.

Dorothy cried when they closed the casket. And she hadn’t stopped until they were back inside the car, heading home for the reception. Her sister was too inconsolable to return hugs or comfort that day, and her father still seemed to be in a state of shock to have noticed. Dorothy leaned on her closest friends at the time, but eventually forced herself to be strong, for her family, or what remained of it.

Just as she had done that day, the very clear memory made fresh tears spring to her eyes. She didn’t know how long they had run but hearing her niece’s cries triggered something in her to collect herself again. Even though Lena had gone to tend to her, Dorothy still used some tissues to dry her eye and made herself take deep breaths to calm down again and try to quell some of the unpleasant memories with brighter ones.

There wasn’t much conversation between her and Lena throughout the remainder day. Dorothy tried distracting herself a little by going online for only a moment, but she ended up deciding to leave her laptop off for the remainder of it. She helped with her niece and cried again, through the rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” during her mom’s favorite musical film, Meet Me In St. Louis.

Her brother-in-law picked up a double shift at the hospital, intentionally making himself scarce, she suspected, so the day of the two sisters and Francesca, turned into the evening with the two and the babe. With Lena having taken on breakfast and neither sister being particularly hungry for a lunch, Dorothy prepared dinner for them, following her mother’s Swedish meatball recipe to a tee. 

The prayer candle had burned all day, and neither of them would be blowing it out, instead letting it go out on its own when it had nothing left to burn. After doing the dinner dishes and wishing Lena and Francesca a good night, Dorothy sat at the table and watched the lone flame burn still inside the narrow glass. She placed a hand over her round stomach and for the first time that day, other than small talk asking and answering questions with Lena, she spoke.

“I know I’ve said this so many times before, but I...” her low, raspy voice paused as she looked down at herself, and then back at the candle. “I really wish you were here. I want to believe... I have to believe that you and Pops are watching over me, and Lena and your grandchildren, but...” Letting out a soft sigh, she ignored the new tears welling up in her eyes. “What I would give for you to be here right now... To be able to talk to you, to see you with Chesca, and Quinton, spoiling them rotten and helping Lena and me in ways that only you could...” 

Her flurry of emotions rendered her silent for a stretch of time and as she sniffed and sighed, she did her best to bring the words out again. “I miss you, Mom. I’m... so thankful for the time we did have with you--you were...amazing. My role model. And I miss you.”

Unable to keep herself together any further, Dorothy bent her head into her hands and sobbed as quietly as she could make herself. A montage of bitter and sweet images of her mom sped through her mind as she wept. 

A gentle hand on her shoulder made her jump but as quickly as she reacted, she relaxed and looked up through glistening, bloodshot eyes. Lena was standing beside her and although Dorothy couldn’t clearly make out her expression, she saw her arms open up. After heaving herself to her feet, Dorothy clung to her big sister and cried freely on her shoulder. And all the while Lena held her, knowing, or possibly not knowing how much it was needed.

[hopefullymendes]

Snap

Shawn Mendes x Reader

Word count: 1,755

A/N: Okay. So basically this is the saddest thing I think I’ve ever written and I apologise… This was anon requested !! Their request includes the major spoiler though so if you don’t know which one it was… boy are you in for a surprise. I hope you all like it xxx

P.S. @shawns-love suggested that we actually make a hashtag to use on all social media to get the message across to Shawn (kindly) about not snapchatting and driving because God knows what we’d do if he got hurt. So if anyone has any suggestions PLEASE let me know. XX

Masterlist

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Shawn answers the phone. “Hey babe! What’s up? I miss youuuu…” Shawn cheerily speaks into the phone. “Shawn, how many times do I have to ask you to not snapchat while driving? You know I hate it.” I say in a low and stern voice. This would probably be the seventeenth time I’ve asked Shawn to stop his dangerous habit. “I’m sorry, baby. You know I’m a good driver though! I do it all the time so I’m use to it!” He says trying to justify his behaviour and comfort me at the same time. “Not helping,” I say with a sigh, “I don’t care how good the song is that you’re listening to. I don’t care how cute you look. I don’t care if the road looks pretty. I care about you and you staying safe. Okay? I miss you too.” Shawn stays silent on the other end of the phone for a moment. I know he hates me constantly nagging at him about this but I can’t lose Shawn. He’s the most constant happiness in my life and to lose him to something so stupidly juvenile would break me into pieces. “I’ll be home soon.” He says before hanging up the phone. I place my phone on the counter and sit down on a stool, hugging my knees to my chest. I get anxious thinking about him hurt or thinking about him in danger… and thinking about losing him as a whole, as I said, it will break me completely. It would shatter my heart into a million pieces. My body would be fragmented and my eyes wouldn’t be able to see light. I would only be able to feel pain and sorrow. I don’t want that for myself and I don’t think that's selfish.

I hadn’t realised I had fallen asleep on the couch until I heard the front door close. Shawn’s face was lit up in a soft blue from the lighting of his phone. “Hi.” I say weakly yet still making Shawn jump due to the fact that he hadn’t noticed that I was in the room. “Hey. I’m really tired so I’m going to bed. We have to be up early in the morning.” He says in a monotone voice. “Shawn can you just hold me for a moment?” I ask, trying to push down the lump in my throat that has risen because I’m both relieved he’s home but upset that he’s acting distant from me. “Sorry, Y/N. I just really need to go to sleep right now. We’ll talk in the morning.” Shawn doesn’t look in my direction again before he walks out of the room and up the stairs. I didn’t realise I’d actually gotten him that wound up over my nagging. I feel a warm tear fall from each of my eyes as I hug my knees again. This is one of those times when I’m so unsure as to whether Shawn knows just how much I love him and how much he means to me.

After getting myself together and allowing time for the blotchiness of my cheeks and the redness of my eyes to die down, I make my way to the bedroom. There aren’t any lights on in the house and it’s awfully cold. Why is this night being so cruel? I slide into the bed, next to a sleeping Shawn. Without his strong arms around me it feels like he’s hardly here. I attempt the art of sleep as I slowly but surely drench my pillow, my body erupting with the sadness from the feeling of losing Shawn that’s been lingering in my mind all day.

“Y/N, come on! I’m sure you look beautiful, let’s go. We’re already going to be late.” Shawn yells up the stairs. My under eyes are puffy and my eyes are bloodshot but I know Shawn will make me happy today, he always does. I smile at him as I walk down the stairs. “I told you you’d look beautiful.” He says placing his hand on my hip and kissing my forehead. “Thank you.” I say, staring at the ground. He intertwines our hands and leads me out the door and into his Jeep. The radio is already at a high volume and Shawn has begun singing not long after starting the car. He reaches over and places a hand on my thigh, squeezing it gently as he looks over and smiles at me. He makes my cold heart warm and fluttery. “I love you, Shawn.” I say, looking at his face, his eyes set on the road now. “I love you too, Y/N.” He replies, lightly rubbing his thumb over my thigh. I take hold of his hand in both of mine, wanting his arms so desperately to be around me in this moment. My mind is a whirlwind of emotions as I feel myself coming out of yesterday's darkness and into the warmth that Shawn brings to my life. I smile at him as I watch his concentrating stare into the distance. His phone vibrates and notification sounds go off on a number of occasions but thankfully he just ignores it. He removes his hand from my thigh to turn the radio up even louder, making my head pound. “John. Fricking. MaYER. Y/N!!!” He yells over the top of the music before he begins belting out the lyrics and strumming his seatbelt like a guitar. I start laughing at him, dorking out over one of his favourite artists ever. “Y/N, I love you and don’t hate me but I literally have to snapchat this. It’s 110% necessary. Please please please!!” He says, hitting my thigh to try and encourage me to say yes. “Be quick.” I state, looking at the road ahead before taking a quick side glance to see the happiness on Shawn’s face. He reaches in the middle of the two of us to where his phone was laying. I take the phone from his hands, unlocking it and getting onto snapchat to reduce the amount of time he’s distracted. “Thanks MOM” He says, a childish tone in his voice as he’s enthralled in the music. He rests his hand on the top of the steering wheel as he begins to record a video. He starts singing the lyrics of the song but messes up terribly, forcing a giant laugh out of me. He laughs too, looking over at me and facing the phone towards me to get me in the video as well.

Shawn’s P.O.V.

Lightning shoots through my chest every time I attempt to take a breath and my eyes sting despite them being shut. I hear a series of periodic beeping and a low murmur of voices as I slowly regain awareness of my surroundings. The light attacks my retinas as my eyes slowly open, making them ache. I can mostly see light blue and the glare of the sun coming through my window. I still don’t know exactly what’s going on. I can’t even recall why my memory is struggling or why my body is aching so much. “Shawn. How are you feeling?” Asks a blue blob standing beside me. “Everything hurts. And I’m really confused… What happened?” I ask the blue blob who is slowly coming into focus. “I’m very sorry to inform you, Shawn, but you were in quite a terrible accident this morning. You may be in pain and a bit dazed but you should have a reasonably quick recovery. However your passenger…” My lungs stop functioning completely. She’s the one thing that my mind would never forget. “Oh god. Oh god. Y/N. Is she okay? She’s not hurt, is she? I didn’t hurt her, did I?” I say, in a complete state of panic, feeling as if the ground is about to disappear from beneath me and swallow me whole. “Don’t blame yourself. She is currently in a critical condition, she got pretty banged up, especially on her head and chest. She actually went through the front windscreen. We have our team working on her though and we will do our best to help her out of this, Shawn. You just need to rest.” I can see the blue blob clearly now. “No. I’m sorry but no. I have to see her now. I don't care if she’s covered in blood or something, I just need to see her.” I attempt to sit up to get of my hospital bed but it feels as if a rib will pop out of my chest. “Shawn,” the Doctor says, gently laying me back onto the bed and adjusting the drips into my arm, “she… she isn't exactly able to talk right now. We need to do brain scans and MRI’s and all sorts of tests before you can see her.” I slowly drift off as the doctor gives me another dose of morphine as I give in to the pain.

I wake up with a hand on my shoulder. “Shawn, you can come and see her now. Would you like me to take you to see Y/N?” The doctor asks. I nod my head slowly, attempting to suppress the pain.

I stare at her pale face, her eyelids resting shut. I ignore the pain it takes to move my limbs and I gently grab hold of her cold hand. The only warmth I can feel is that of the tear making it’s way down my cut up cheek. As I look at the long mark that lies diagonally across her chest to her shoulder, I remember exactly what lead to this. Fucking snapchat. No matter how many times she told me, I didn’t listen to her. And then she ends up like this? What the fuck? Nothing I ever do can make up for this. Of course she was right. She’s always right because she acts out of love. I love her so much. “Y/N I love you so much. I’m sorry that I didn’t hold you when you asked me to hold you.” I whisper through my tears that are eventuating into heaving, making my chest ache but my heart aches more. My beautiful Y/N. Lying here helpless. Because of me. I will never forgive myself.

A while later, her eyes open so slowly it’s as if they were stuck together, her hand still in mine. She sets her sight on me, her expression remaining the same. “Who are you?” She asks.

[faewylds]

Angels

 Immortality has its price. When you live for eons, when you watch the universe slowly bloom into existence, everything repeats again and again. It gets boring, so, so boring. Boring enough to make you wish you would just disappear, if only you could.

And then something happens. Something minuscule turns into something bigger, and life is born. A playground blooms before your eyes. And wouldn’t someone who waited for that for hundreds, thousands, millions of years, do anything to get there the second that someone showed them how? Of course they’d do anything. They’d even fall.

 Abasdarhon was the angel of the 5th hour of the night, and they still are. Torn jeans and low cut tank tops have replaced their toga, blue hair shines instead of a halo and the temples they visit pulse with music and moving bodies. They relish in the burn of alcohol rushing down their throats as they line shot after shot, they celebrate life by dancing along with the crowd as the club fills to bursting, drawn by the siren’s call of their power. They worship the night along with their new flock, screaming out lyrics of  today’s hymns and anthems.

 Ariel was the angel of protection, and he still is. There’s no more right or wrong for him, he just does his work for whoever is the highest bidder, and the highest bidders pay well, very well. So he protects, though his armor no longer steel, but kevlar hidden under jackets, and his weapon is no longer his sword but a gun tucked behind his belt. He has traded bloodbathed battlefronts to either rundown streets of stylish parties, but the red of the fight is still the same color as he remembers it.

 Asteraoh was the angel who thwarted power, and he still does. Anarchist is what they call him as he makes sure that the higher a person rises, the harder they will fall. It’s quite easy, really. A bit of blackmail here, a bit of planted evidence there, and suddenly the highest are dragged down to share their cells with the lowest. Or maybe a whisper here, a suggestion there, and they bring themselves down on their own accord. He’s there to watch them crash and burn.

 Azrael was the angel of death, Azriel was the angel of destruction, and the two siblings still do their work. Their work is silent, but its consequences resonate loudly. A missing piece in one place, a small defect in another, then all they have to do is wait for the first domino to fall and set the chain into motion. Nuclear meltdowns, collapsed buildings, car explosions, they celebrate it all. And when that is not enough, they create bombs and weapons and let humanity do their work for them.

 Barman was the angel of intelligence, and she still is. In the age of information, her job became considerably easier. The world is connected, and most of humanity’s knowledge, good or bad, is at the press of a button. The rest? There’s a way. Connect, break in, collect, repeat. She's the exhausted girl you see with bloodshot and empty eyes, for she has seen too much and yet has not seen enough to quit her search. Maybe she finds things some people better want hidden, or maybe she finds things too horrible to seek out purposefully. And maybe she clicks share.

 Baruchiel was the angel with power over strife, and he still has it. What he says, happens. He asks for peace - he gets peace, he asks for a fight - he gets a fight, and right now he most often asks for the later. He’s a ringleader, yelling into a megaphone and riding the high of the crowd screaming for blood which soon follows. He yells encouragements for the modern gladiators of his choice and watches them win every time. Sometimes he goes overboard, and the bloodthirst rises to a lethal level. Fun has its price, he pays his due in blood and lives.

 Israfil was the angel called “the burning one”, and they still live up to the name. They remember when people burned sacrifices and offerings for their god, and even now they follow the tradition. Arson is their living. Crossed electric wires or simple lighters, ordinary wood or gasoline, all works, all burns. They watch news where people cry and mourn all the lives lost in the latest house fire, and then the pyromaniac strikes another match.

 Nathanael was the angel of hidden things, fire, and vengeance, and he still is. In this age, he’s a detective. He sees all things hidden, he finds clues and evidence everyone else has missed. Yet no matter what he finds, all the cases in his charge fall through. But what few people ever notice is that the killers he chases never come back to kill again. Angelic vengeance pays back any wrong sevenfold, and he really doesn’t hold back.

 Shepherd was the angel of repentance, and he makes sure that he remains so. He embraces sin as wholeheartedly as he once embraced his belief in god. He drinks, he fucks, he cheats, he fights, he does all that he never could. Lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, pride and jealousy, he tries them all again and again. Laws are nothing to him, and the opinions of men are even lower than that. He breaks heart, souls and bodies. He makes sure that he has something to repent for.

  Sraosha was the angel who set the world in motion, and she still does her work. Humanity strives on one thing, and one thing only. Chaos. Only then do they truly shine, the times when they have to fight for their survival, when wars rage and earth shatters. Nothing fuels men more to come together or break apart, to learn and create new things, or destroy themselves and their surroundings. So she becomes chaos, creates war, causes crisis. She forces the world to spin.