#Emotion gotta be top three best pop records of all time

[camojacketfag]

Hungover as FUCK crying in the car to Emotion by fucking Carly Rae Jepsen of all things.

Happy new year I guess!!!!!!!!!!!!

[pinkmirth]

—𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝗼𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 [𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞]

《𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝗼𝗺𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 + 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝》

Boxes splayed across the bare, sheen hardwood of your newly owned apartment, some contents of them being haphazardly tossed out onto the floor, courtesy of Katsuki. Speaking of, the eager ash blonde had been taking this whole unpacking thing with a ravaging approach, a little more aggression than enthusiasm being displayed. This disregarding husband of yours had already broken two vases since the moving van hauled in your belongings..

You caught wind of his incoherent murmurs throughout the day, which were practically countless by now. You’d been racking your brain since, attempting to discover what had gotten your poor Katsuki so upset. Despite the marriage that bonded you and him, Katsuki’s profession usually got in the way of many personal things. For a while, it’d been a danger just for the pair of you to live together, so you haven’t been. Until now. It had been three days since you and him moved from the comfort of your hometown, Musutafu, to the renowned capital, Tokyo, and you wished you could say it had been smooth sailing. Unfortunately, a certain Bakugou wasn’t having the best time, always sputtering a profanity or a groan left and right. His case of the grumps was probably a trip of his complex emotions, either caused by a sense of neediness, deprivation of some sort, or bottled rage. You were betting, practically hoping on the first two instead. Knowing your husband, it meant well that he’d get his hands on miscellaneous household items to crush, smash and break, as some way of channeling his anger episodes. Three days down the line, and you already needed to replace a handful.. Though, it was currently dinner time, and you were sure that was a good thing. Katsuki’s little funk would wash away come 6pm. Cooking had a way of melting away the male’s heaps of stress, especially when you offered to join in. Throughout that hour of making food and serving you his prideful dishes, he always carried a subtle smile. Dinner wasn’t something to worry about. “Fuckin’ hell!” Scratch that. Telling by the pestering clatter of the cabinets he was yanking open, to the dastardly echo of his stomps, it seemed that you couldn’t rely on the succor of food for any longer. “I oughta’ set this lousy kitchen on fucking fire!” You let out a hefty sigh, picking yourself up from the spacious beanbag, since you were yet to assemble any couches, before strolling over to the kitchen, awaiting to see the reason behind your husband’s exaggerated shrieking. “Katsu-Chan, what's the issue..?” Your husband immediately bombarded you with a growled rant, “I can’t find my shitty apron!” You eyed Katsuki through furrowed brows. Is all this attitude really about one measly apron? Nah, I doubt it, your inner voice chimed. “And there ain’t any more pepper seasoning, so I haven’t got a clue what I’ll cook now..” he spewed through gritted teeth, recklessly tossing away the poor frying pan that he’d been holding onto all the while, impressive dents imprinted onto the handle, curved into the shape of his fingers. In that case, you had one more household item to replace. Noted.. “I can’t find that damned thing,” he spoke with an exasperated huff, his hands flying up to the cupboards, motioning them open and closed with the slightest violent tendency. “Hate to break it to you, sweet cheeks, but we ain’t eating dinner tonight,” you scoffed over Katsuki’s recurring dramatics, “These past few days have been shitty anyway..” He’d said it throughout a lowly mutter, but it was enough to cause a nervous stream to rush through you. Did he not like it here? Perhaps the city was too busy for Dynamight, maybe he wasn’t immune to getting homesickness as he liked to brag about, or it couldve been that he just wasn’t ready to get used to such a foreign occurrence in your relationship— living together. But, of course, considering your nature to bat things off with a joke of some sort, you contorted your worries into a comical stick to jab at your husband with.

“Darling, if you’re on your man-period, you should’ve just said so..” you’d said it with fabricated pity, all the while holding back your chuckles as his brows began to furrow, upper lip curving vexingly.

“You think you’re so damn funny, dontcha’, woman..?”

“Yeah, just a little bit.”

Another rasped groan left the lips of the ever-impatient Bakugou Katsuki, “Oi. Are ya’ just gonna keep giggling on about my little anger episode forever?”

Hm. For once, he actually acknowledged it for what it is, you thought briefly, before making your way around the glossy, marble-design kitchen island, your hands finding solace on his defined, muscular triceps. 

The thick straps of his black, square neck tank top gradually began to slide past his shoulders, shadowing over his collarbone before you inched it back up.

“Do you.. like it here, Katsuki?” By the moment he answered your answer with an aggressive snort, you realized you had nothing to worry about.

 “Why the hell wouldn't I? We didn’t pay for this house just to hate the place,” he scoffed, his large palms skimming over the small of your back before thick fingers of his wrapped around your waist.

“That’s a relief, but you’ve been acting a little grumpy— Like something’s bothering you. Could you just tell me how you’re feeling?” You finally admitted your questioning thoughts with an expectant look, watching Katsuki return your curiosity with a subtle smirk. “You wanna know what’s bothering me..?” 

“Y’know what, never mind. Don’t wanna hear it, Katsu-Chan.”

Your abrupt response had him knitting his brows and emitting confused huffs. “So you’re just gonna change your mind on me like that?!” You jabbed at his chest with your pointer finger to punctuate your reply, “because you made it sound creepy, that’s why!”

Katsuki then tightened his grip around your waist, earning a breathy gasp out of you. Before you could question the blonde, he already had you hauled up into the kitchen island, standing between your dangling legs with the tip of his nose grazing yours. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the comforting warmth of his sizey hands, your arms instinctively flinging around the back of his neck.

“Alright, I’ll tell you the truth, hon,” confessed Katsuki, “The move has been great, but horrible. It all went good, I guess. No missing items, moving trucks arriving in record time, everything we wanted. But there’s one more thing that we wanted that you seemed to forget about, you lil’ idiot..”

Despite the use of an insult, his cheeks and ears began the bloom a subtle but pretty pink, his sharp red eyes averting from your own blinking ones.

“Care to inform me on whatever I forgot..?” You skimmed through my your memory frantically in those few seconds that he’d paused, trying to dig up a pleasing answer before he told you himself.

“Privacy, [Y/N].. We’d have so much, too much once we moved to our own place. And we loved the sound of that. Y‘know why, right..?”

Your heart suddenly leapt within your chest at his indication, his left brow rising suggestively as he briefly cocked his head. You definitely knew why.

“So we could have times like this. Without any damned interruptions. I can suck your face off without one of my shitty friends popping up unexpectedly, ain’t that swell?” His voice held the slightest bit of laughter in it, his tone comical and yearning.

“So.. if I said that I wanna feel you close to me..” you murmured, your breath fanning over his proximate lips, “Like, really really close, it wouldn’t be a problem, yes?” A teasing, lingering peck was what you placed across his cheek, earning a genuine grin from Katsuki as a response.

“Who the hell’s gonna stop you? In fact, I’ve got my own idea,” his lowly voice came out booming nonetheless, but of course, the benefit of privacy made sure that his volume wasn’t a problem.

“I wanna watch you. While you watch me.” He didn’t have to be lewdly exact with his words, the lust-blown gaze in your husband’s vermillion eyes was enough to tell what he wanted. It was simple enough as he’d said; Mutual masturbation, just a few minutes before dinner time would commence.

Albeit the serene atmosphere, you couldn’t hold back your snicker over your realization. Bakugou Katsuki, your impatient lover. The poor guy had been in such a distasteful mood, only because of his unnerving libido..

“You wanna watch me take off my panties, huh?” Your teasing statement came out as a suggestive giggle, your hand placed sturdily at the nape of his neck while the unoccupied one got to work on making his fantasies a reality, tugging at the hem of your leggings hastily.

“You’ve gotta watch me too, y’know,” Katsuki reminded you with a gravelly chuckle, shimmying and pulling his bottoms off as though there were no time to spare.

His half naked form had attracted you in an instant, eyes drawing to his thick cock, semi-hard and already being encased into his moving palm.

“Don't just stare. It works both ways, sweet cheeks. I wanna see some fingers moving’ already,” Puffs of breath were taken between his words, ruby red eyes already lidded with an agape mouth that poured out the most arousing groans.

“Nah, I think I’ll just enjoy the show for now,” you decided matter-of-factly, pressing a sloppy kiss along his defined jawline, causing him to emit another grunt, lowly slapping sounds being heard from his vulgar ministrations.

“You think you’re cute, huh..” hissed Bakugou, trudging his clothes back on with a grunt, to your dismay. “Forget it. Instead of putting on a show for a brat like you, I’m gonna go straight to dinner.”

You accepted the fate that your actions resulted in, ready to slide off the island, just before his stern hands stopped you. He gave you this glance, one that made you eye him in suspicion as he kept his hands on each of your thighs, spreading them apart with a lax grin.

“Katsu— Ah!” By now, the blonde had already dropped to his knees, now face level with your clothed heat. “W-what about dinner..?!”

“Whaddya’ mean?” His tone came out rasped and attractive, a growing smirk reaching his lips as his fingers prodded at the band of your bottoms, “This is my dinner, babe..”

[forasecondtherewedwon]

The Great Madripoorian Snake Off

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: M Word Count: 3950

Summary: All Sam argued was that Bucky shouldn't have to pretend to be the Winter Soldier. He never suggested Bucky pose as his husband instead.

The Baron—with his garage of vintage cars and his popped-collar bullshit—starts getting a little too comfortable. Somewhere between his prison cell and his private plane, he begins to act as though he’s the one running the show, so when he states, despicably blasé, that Bucky will need to go undercover as the Winter Soldier, Sam tells Zemo no. Not as forcefully as he forbade him from speaking earlier, but firmly enough that Sam thinks it’s clear that he won’t be changing his mind.

“But it’s the only way,” Zemo says, spreading his hands. “As the Winter Soldier, he is a very believable bodyguard.”

“Maybe he doesn’t need to act like a bodyguard,” Sam argues.

“A show of strength is—”

“Is that really what we need? I thought we were trying to fly under the radar. If we’re advertising Bucky’s capabilities like that, doesn’t that make us a target?”

“Yes,” Bucky mumbles, mostly staying out of it.

Sam’s irritated that Bucky’s not standing up for himself, not pushing back against Zemo’s half-baked plan. Having Zemo here is a lot to deal with, Sam gets that, but if they don’t fight him on this shit now, he has a bad feeling they’re going to regret it when they end up in a firefight. Whatever. He’ll speak up on Bucky’s behalf to save them both grief in the near future. He hopes Bucky would do the same for him.

“Whether or not you acknowledge what he is…” Zemo begins again.

“Who,” Sam says, gaze flicking to Bucky’s face, which is tilting down as he avoids eye contact. “Who he is.”

“…you have the risk of aggression.”

“Buck?” Sam checks. He stares until Bucky’s eyes dart up to meet his. “You gonna keep your cool in there?”

“Best behaviour,” he promises. His blue eyes are suspiciously steady, like always.

“That means,” Zemo translates with a finger raised to complement his interjection, “he’ll react whenever and however he feels he needs to. There is no guarantee it will align with your own conduct.”

“Yeah, man, I know,” Sam snaps.

Like he needs Zemo to explain Bucky to him; Sam knows Bucky. He knows he’s stubborn at best and a reckless hot-head at worst, but he also knows Bucky’s working on that. There’s no need to state how little Zemo expects from Bucky right in front of him. If anybody’s gonna complain about Bucky’s aggravating habit of doing the opposite of whatever Sam wants him to, it’ll be Sam.

He’s still glaring at the Baron when Bucky shifts in his seat, hands clenching in his lap. Sam’s eyes go to the fists, then up to Bucky’s face.

“You see that?” Zemo asks, sounding deeply amused as he nods towards Bucky. “He’s going to insist on playing a bodyguard.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ignore him,” Bucky says, quick and low like a kick to the ankle.

“He’s ready to jump to your defense,” Zemo says. He’s grinning, propping his elbows on his armrests and lacing his fingers—looking like the villain he’s already been sentenced for being. “He shows a strong instinct to protect you.”

“Put Bucky with me then,” Sam says reflexively. He glances at Bucky. “If that works for you.” His gaze slides back to Zemo after Bucky’s subtle nod. “If you don’t dress him up like he’s the Winter Soldier and make him act like he’s the Winter Soldier and have him take goddamn orders from you like he’s the Winter Soldier, who’s gonna know? We’re counting on people not being too perceptive, right? That’s why I’m using this Smiling Tiger dude’s identity instead of a made-up one.”

“That’s true,” Bucky says. His tone is gruff as he backs Sam up. “You can’t have it both ways, Zemo. Either we’re both pretending to be real people or neither of us is.”

“I don’t understand,” the Baron says affably, looking between them with a smile. This plane’s gotta hurry up and land before Sam gives in to the urge to stick Zemo’s head in the toilet and flush. “Smiling Tiger and the Winter Soldier are both real people.”

“No. They’re not.”

The silence strains with the pressure behind Bucky’s words. It feels to Sam as though Bucky’s just thrown up a forcefield between himself and Zemo, forbidding him access to the Winter Soldier. Sam can see the disappointment on Zemo’s face, but that asshole will have to wait to express it because the plane’s easing into its descent, circling over Madripoor before setting down on a private airstrip outside the city.

From the hangar, Zemo conducts a short, hushed phone call while Sam watches him with crossed arms. Doesn’t seem to be anything sinister for the moment, because the only result of the call that he witnesses is the arrival of a narrow selection of men’s clothing—including a pair of garish suits. The man who brings the garments laughs with Zemo while Sam and Bucky change in the bathroom off the hangar’s office.

When they see each other, Sam appraises Bucky. His outfit is dark and nondescript. Pricey in its details, but forgettable to anyone who doesn’t have good reason to look closely. (Sam tears his eyes away.) In contrast, Sam’s been urged to choose between the brightly-patterned suits. Layers of fabric and layers of necklaces to top it off. Not exactly Sam’s choice if he were to dress himself in anything on Zemo’s dime, but the Baron insists, flashing him a photo of Smiling Tiger to strengthen his case for bold fashion choices.

“I thought we were making characters up,” Sam says when he looks away from the screen, fiddling with his jewellery.

“This will be easier,” Zemo swears.

He dismisses his contact and the three of them—Zemo, Sam, and Bucky—walk out of the hangar, heading for a bridge with swooping arches and the lights of Madripoor beyond. Apparently, a car will catch up with them. They have until that time to work out their cover without anybody listening in.

“So I’m supposed to be Sam’s bodyguard?” Bucky checks. “Is that what’s happening?”

“You can’t be Smiling Tiger’s bodyguard,” Zemo answers, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.

“Why not?” Sam demands.

“Smiling Tiger is never seen with a bodyguard. Everyone knows he has them, but they remain at a distance.”

“Why’s that?”

“Arrogance, most likely,” Zemo says with a smile that Sam would definitely call arrogant. “Smiling Tiger affects an untouchable persona. The presumption of invincibility may not allow him to enjoy a terribly long life, but what committed criminal does?”

“You’re doing alright so far,” Bucky remarks flatly.

Sam sighs and gets them back on track. He’s already fed up with Zemo and these heeled shoes suck, so he’s losing what patience he had.

“What’s Bucky’s role then?” he asks. “We’re sticking together. If you get us some clandestine meeting with somebody who can tell us about the super-soldier serum, we’ll have to be able to explain who Bucky is.”

“Whoever he is, he’s in your orbit, not mine,” Zemo says. “That’s what you decided on, even though my plan would have worked flawlessly—”

“I don’t have any sympathy for you not getting to play puppet master with the Winter Soldier. It’s not necessary, just you looking for any chance to fuck with Bucky’s head. How about you get over it and show a little of the craftiness that helped you break out of prison?”

“Thanks to me,” Bucky notes.

“You want a new plan?” Zemo asks. “Ok. You’re together.”

“No shit we’re together. Like Sam said.”

“No, no,” Zemo says, smiling like he’s about to be a real dick. “You can be Smiling Tiger’s boyfriend. No—husband. That could be useful.”

Bucky stops in his tracks and Sam grips Zemo’s arm to force him to halt as well.

“But...” Bucky says.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, though Bucky doesn’t get any further in words. His eyes are considerably more expressive, but Sam can’t read them, the emotions flying past too quicky, a kite flipping around in a strong wind.

“It allows James to be near you,” Zemo tells him, “and would explain any protective gestures. It’s the simplest solution. Tell me I’m wrong. I know you enjoy doing that.”

“You’re wrong.”

But Sam isn’t so sure about that. They all begin walking again and, by unspoken understanding, allow Zemo to drift slightly ahead. Bucky moves silently to Sam’s side.

“You think this is a good idea?”

“For the record, I don’t like it,” Sam says.

“Neither do I. We’re almost outta time though.”

Sam looks sideways and narrows his eyes at Bucky’s determined expression.

“You’re not fighting this very hard. Is it because you and Zemo have been in cahoots since the prison?”

“We’re not in cahoots.”

“Then why are you so fine with this?”

“It’s better than being the Winter Soldier,” Bucky says.

“The nickname’s a downgrade though,” Sam quips back. Could be a bad time for a joke, but if they’re doing this he can’t have Bucky going into it with that bleak attitude. They need to be more at ease with each other.

The thought alone makes him want to shove Bucky from this bridge and lean over the side to watch the splash.

“Mr. and Mr. Smiling Tiger,” Bucky says miserably. “Fuck.”

“For all I know, Zemo’s making this guy up,” Sam hisses, glancing at the Baron’s back, “so I have to use a stupid name and wear a stupid suit.”

“Seems a little petty for Zemo.”

“He’s gonna try to break us with the small stuff, just you watch.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Bucky tells him.

“That’s exactly what somebody who’s in cahoots with Zemo would say,” Sam accuses. “He’s been working on you since you left me out in the hallway and went in to meet him in his cell alone.” He tugs on the hem of his fitted jacket. “Gotta be vigilant.”

“Whatever you say, Smiling Tiger.”

“You know, I don’t want to hold hands with you, but I’ll do it just to irritate you more than you’re irritating me.”

Bucky glares at him.

The hand-holding is supposed to begin and end as a bluff, but when they get in the back of the car together and Zemo twists around in the passenger seat to give them a significant look, Sam figures he’s trying to get some show of affection out of them. Zemo’s obviously paid the driver—and the hired guns flanking the car on their motorcycles—but this is Madripoor, where competing interests pay competing sums for tip-offs; Sam can admit to himself that, not too far from here, multiple somebodies probably already know Baron Zemo and Co. are in the city. Any one of Zemo’s hires could be reporting on them. He swallows and inches his hand across the middle seat towards Bucky’s.

Zemo gives him an approving nod and a dorky ok sign that makes Sam roll his eyes. When he’s facing forward again, Sam bumps his hand into Bucky’s. With a jerk, Bucky goes from staring out his window to down at their hands.

“Just do it, man,” Sam says under his breath, glancing at the side of the driver’s face.

“Nothing I want more,” Bucky says with zero enthusiasm. He flips his hand over for Sam to grasp and adds, “Babe.”

Just for that, Sam intertwines their fingers to make the hold as intimate as possible. He sees Bucky’s jaw tighten, but before he can probe his staring eyes for meaning, Bucky’s looking out the window again.

Not letting go immediately goes from part of the act to a competition between them. Sam catches the driver peering at the two of them in the rear-view mirror and yanks their joined hands over so the back of Bucky’s rests on his thigh. In obvious retaliation, Bucky clamps Sam’s hand securely when the car rolls to a stop in Low Town, forcing Sam to scoot across the back seat and climb out Bucky’s door.

“You could look a little happier about this,” Zemo suggests, motioning to their rigid arms while they maintain a squeezing hand-hold, as if the Baron’s about to attempt to red-rover his way between them.

“That better not be you telling me to smile,” Sam warns.

“I thought Sam’s nickname was supposed to be ironic,” Bucky says.

“What do I know,” Zemo says. He raises his hands in a gesture of harmlessness—that Sam absolutely does not buy—and leads them up the street.

“He’s not wrong,” Bucky turns his head to mutter as Sam’s gaze roves over a series of seedy deals conducted right out in the open. “You could loosen up a little. You look mad. It’s suspicious.”

“Oh, I could loosen up?” Sam shoots back. “Try wiping that death-stare off your face for five minutes.”

“Hey, I’m allowed to look like this. I’m acting protective, remember?”

“Well, maybe I look mad because your hand’s all sweaty.”

“It’s your hand that’s sweaty!”

“Uh, no.”

“You want me to switch hands?” Bucky asks, eyes boring into Sam’s and startling him because, beneath the exasperation, there’s unmistakable fear. Could be the situation, or the fact that they’re kinda putting their lives in Zemo’s hands here, or that he expects Sam to recoil at even the suggestion of clasping his Vibranium hand like a lover would.

“Yeah,” he says. “Gimme the other one.”

They stare each other down until Bucky shrugs it off, refusing to switch. Sam hopes he knows that he would’ve, that it doesn’t need to be a big deal, and that it’s probably just all Zemo’s talk of manipulating Bucky into playing the part of the Winter Soldier that has him extra wary of his own prosthetic. His Vibranium hand is currently covered by a leather glove and Sam’s glad the Baron can’t see the sleek metal when he looks back at them with greedy eyes full of an agenda Sam’s certain they only know a piece of.

“Almost there,” Zemo tells them.

“I’m gonna try not to attract attention,” Bucky says quietly, making Sam stop with him before they can enter the bar. “I might not talk much.”

“That’s fine,” Sam assures him. “We’ll let Zemo take the lead. You just stay close, alright?”

Bucky nods and they duck inside, following the back of Zemo’s high collar as they weave through a crowd of disreputable characters. It’s packed in here. Sam tries to keep his chest out, his head up, his body moving like this suit is type of thing he wears all the time. Bucky releases his hand to walk behind him, leaving Sam’s palm clammy and cold.

When Sam stops abruptly to let Zemo reach the bartender first, Bucky walks into him. Honestly, his solid presence is a relief and Sam shuts his eyes to reset for a second before turning his head partway.

“That a knife in your front pocket? I thought we were being inconspicuous.”

“It is inconspicuous,” Bucky replies, brushing past him to stand at his side instead of right against his back. “Nobody’s gonna know it’s there unless I have to pull it out.”

“I know it’s there.”

“I wasn’t counting on you pressing your ass against it.”

Sam opens his mouth, but all he can do is make a disgruntled noise before Zemo’s turning away from the bartender with a smile to wave Sam and Bucky forward.

“Ah,” says the Baron. “Will you join me, Smiling Tiger?”

Repeatedly telling himself to keep his shit together, Sam comes up to the bar, leaning an arm on the surface. He isn’t expecting pushback from the bartender, but maybe Zemo doesn’t have quite as much clout in Madripoor as he imagines; the bartender holds Sam’s eyes for a moment before glancing pointedly to Bucky. Sam can feel Bucky hovering at his back.

“My husband,” Sam states. Probably best to keep his answers short. He might look like the real Smiling Tiger, but he has no idea whether or not he sounds anything like him.

The bartender just stares back, then drops his gaze to Sam’s hand, splayed on the bar top. Shit. He knows what the man’s thinking: no ring. Although Sam’s totally good with leaping out of the back of airplanes, being required to improvise with words has him panicking. If he and Bucky had thought to come up with an excuse for why a guy like Smiling Tiger—who’s evidently comfortable being decked out in jewellery—wouldn’t wear a wedding ring, he could deliver it now, but without rehearsing? He’s not a smooth or practiced liar.

Defensively, he draws away from the bar and feels his shoulder hit someone. Bucky. Sam looks from where his shoulder is pressing into Bucky’s chest, then up to his eyes. Wordlessly, he asks for assistance. Bucky leans forward to make his voice heard over the noise of the room and Sam exhales slowly in swift relief. But that’s until Bucky says to the bartender, “Just between you and me, Smiling Tiger says he won’t wear a ring until I find him something that looks better wrapped around him than my mouth.”

The bartender doesn’t react. Sam’s trying not to either, but the expression Bucky petrified onto his face when he spoke can’t look natural. He glances at Zemo, who appears to be unequivocally enjoying their sloppy storytelling. Lifting a glass, the Baron toasts Sam and Bucky.

“Newlyweds,” he says.

With titanic effort, Sam manages a tight approximation of a smile, then angles his face away to speak to Bucky.

“Why the hell would you say that?” he groans.

Bucky gives him a brief glance before returning his gaze to the inscrutable bartender. He fucking beams at him, at the same time replying to Sam from between his clamped teeth.

“Because we’re deeply in love.”

“According to you, the only thing I’ve been deeply in recently is—”

“The usual, Smiling Tiger?” the bartender asks, cutting off Sam’s mumbled conversation.

He nods and the man puts his back to them as he prepares whatever Smiling Tiger’s signature drink is.

“I believe it,” Zemo offers, murmuring into his drink as he tips it back.

“We didn’t ask,” Bucky tells him.

Sam can still feel Bucky standing there, making casual contact that alters slightly as he speaks. What is he doing? Shifting to put himself between Sam and Zemo? The Baron might’ve been right about his protective instinct, though Sam’s sure as hell never noticed this before. No, Zemo’s gotta be wrong. These are extreme circumstances—stressful circumstances—and he and Bucky are just putting their backs together (figuratively), ready to defend against an attack from anyone but each other. That doesn’t mean anything except that they’ve been in combat together and developed a certain amount of dependability and, alright, trust.

“The chemistry is there,” Zemo continues casually, dissecting after being blatantly told not to. “The history, the tension. It���s absolutely electric.”

Zemo is spared the merciless comeback forming in Sam’s mouth when the bartender slaps an entire dead snake down in front of them and starts to gut it. Even Bucky flinches against him. Sam can’t remember the last thing he ate, but he has a bad feeling he’s going to be reminded any second when he ralphs it up between his fancy shoes.

“Hey,” Bucky says, grabbing his arm and turning him away from the bar.

Sam wants to knock his hand away because he can’t break character now. This could be some kind of test, ordered by the person Zemo brought them here to make contact with and carried out by the bartender. Sam needs to be unfazed by this and he’s taking shallow breaths through his mouth (because what he doesn’t need to do is find out what that snake’s corpse smells like), striving to regain his composure.

And Bucky… well, Bucky just has to fuck that up for him.

Vibranium fingers take gentle grip of Sam’s jaw as Bucky tilts his head and plants a firm kiss on his lips. Sam hates that this is easier to improvise than a spoken lie. And he’d be lying to himself if he couldn’t admit that he’s thought about this. A dozen times, just today. He grabs Bucky by the hips, hauling him against him. In his head, thoughts and stimuli are unfolding and collapsing like his wings—the thick slicing sound of the bartender’s knife, Who the hell does Bucky think he is, kissing me out of nowhere?, the puff of air leaving Bucky’s nose and hitting Sam’s cheek, All of this is Zemo’s fault, the soft feel of Bucky’s bottom lip between his teeth, Fuck that, Zemo’s not getting credit for this, the ridge of the knife in Bucky’s front pocket as it pushes against Sam’s thigh. That is still the knife, isn’t it?

When Bucky breaks it off, he looks a little dazed. Sam wants to laugh and tell him, Hey, that was your idea, but there seems to be a lag in his ability to banter. At the sound of a glass being set on the bar behind him, he recalls what was going on right before Bucky initiated that kiss and from what, therefore, Bucky was trying to spare him.

“Thanks,” Sam mouths.

Holding his gaze, Bucky nods.

Sam rotates to find a shot glass with something distressing floating inside. His stomach lurches like a student driver’s ride as he stares at the slimy lump in the glass. Bucky moves around him to prop an elbow on the bar, excitement in his eyes, clearly ready to watch Sam swallow whichever organ the bartender just harvested for his consumption. What a dick. So much for Bucky protecting him.

It makes Sam shudder just to close his fingers around the glass, but when he catches Bucky looking like he’s suppressing a laugh, he suddenly knows exactly what’ll make him feel better.

“I hate for you to waste a good snake,” Sam tells the bartender. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Bucky’s face fall. “You’ve got plenty of choice pieces left. Pour another one of these for my husband.”

With the final word of his order, he takes his hand from the bar to smack Bucky’s ass.

“I was just starting to think about forgiving you for breaking Zemo outta prison and you had to look at me like you can’t wait for me to down this snake drink,” Sam says, focusing on Bucky while the bartender takes his knife to the snake a second time.

“So this is the punishment?” Bucky asks.

“I believe it’s more of a trust exercise,” Zemo offers. Oh, that’s right, he’s still here. Between the nastiest drink-making process he’s ever witnessed and making out with Bucky, Sam actually stopped being aware of Zemo. “Really, it’s symbolic, James. Sam would like for the two of you to go through this together, to strengthen your bond with a shared experience. The gesture is quite moving.”

“Can we get one for the Baron too?” Bucky requests as the bartender sets his drink in front of him. “Wouldn’t want him to feel left out.”

Zemo attempts to wave it off, but Sam piles on with an “I insist,” and apparently an insistence from Smiling Tiger is worth more than the manners of a backpedalling Helmut Zemo in this city. Or the bartender doesn’t like the Baron either.

“We’re gonna talk about that kiss later,” Sam informs Bucky, ignoring Zemo’s expression of pure dread.

“Why don’t we talk about it now and skip the—”

“Because I said so.” Sam raises his shot glass in Bucky’s direction. “Cheers.”

Watching Bucky reluctantly lift his own drink from the bar, Smiling Tiger finally smiles.

[bts-weverse-trans]

The Life of BTS Writes a Story Review of BE 2020.11.30

BTS released its new album, BE, on November 20 after RM announced the band’s plan to produce the record on BANGTANTV’s Log (ON) on April 17. The group was working on the album even as “Dynamite”, the single they dropped on August 21, was topping the Billboard Hot 100. This order of events is given a fresh new meaning when “Dynamite” closes BE as opposed to standing alone as a single. While the group was busy sending messages of hope by reminding us of the past where heading out happily after a cup of milk was possible and giving us a glimpse of the future that will eventually come, they were recording the emotional ride they have been on while being off stage via different tracks on BE. Such changes in emotions can be seen through different portrayals of Jung Kook’s room—the way it looks during the first verse of both “Dynamite” and “Life Goes On,” the title track of the new album. Jung Kook is captured looking chipper as he ties his shoes getting ready to go out and dances in his sunshine-filled room in the music video of “Dynamite”, but in the latter’s video, Jung Kook stares blankly out the window. BE tells the story of how Jung Kook and other members navigated their lives, which includes their time singing “Dynamite,” during the pandemic by stepping out of rooms that are distinctively less colorful than the scenes in the music video of “Dynamite”.

The seven tracks, not including “Dynamite”, embody BTS’ emotional shifts and draw what looks a lot like a V curve, with “Skit” separating each section of three songs. The album opens with “Life Goes On” where BTS asks, “there’s no end in sight / is there a way out?” to live through a reality devoid of hope and arrives at “Stay” where the group expresses their intense longing for a reunion with the fans by saying, “Thinking of you now / No matter where you are / That’s not important.” And during this journey, BTS responds to the physical limitations imposed on their daily lives by saying “They took away this whole year” while also trying to put a positive spin on it by singing, “Thoughts can change by thinking,” in “Fly to My Room”. What follows is “Blue & Grey”, where they reveal inner feelings of depression and anxiety with the line, “Still don’t know this sharp blue / Hope it’s not covered over I’ll find the exit.” “Skit” then offers a shift in direction, and the next song, “Telepathy” reveals their eagerness to meet people again, highlighted by the lyrics, “Every day’s the same and I’m happiest when I meet you.” BTS also takes a moment to let out their complex thoughts on work to reach “Stay” ultimately. It is only at the end of this process that the optimism in “Dynamite”, which feels like a conviction of hope in a time of pandemic, appears in full.

“Life Goes On” allows those who don’t know whether they should hold on to hope or give up on hope to feel what it is like to go with the flow when you don’t know what to feel. Those who want to find a reason to be positive in life affected by the pandemic can find solace in “Fly to My Room.” But it is when you listen to the album as a whole that you can get healing from the pain the pandemic has inflicted on us. The soothing ambiance offered by “Life Goes on” transitions into heavy, slow, and dark tunes in “Blue & Grey,” which is followed by faster rhythm and airy sounds in “Telepathy” and “Stay.” Then the album finally culminates in “Dynamite” where the bright sunshine lifts you up. The record in its entirety offers the chance to experience at least indirectly the emotional ride taken by global superstars BTS themselves. “Dis-ease” is the classic example of the storytelling style BTS chose for the album; the moment they let out their angst and fully devote themselves to work is when the song reaches its climax. When BTS sings, “Get up one more time / It’s morning again we gotta go out / Let’s go one more night,” towards the end of the song, the arrangement drives up the song’s tension for the peak moment, “Everyday I console myself / We’re all the same people ain’t so special / Ay man keep one, two step keep calm and let’s heal up” which tops the song off like fireworks. This ironic way of storytelling mirrors BTS’ life at the moment. There are a lot of thoughts about work and life on their mind, but they try their best to work through them. And just as they do this, their energy transforms into a musical blast.

With “On,” the single track on their previous album “Map of the Soul : 7,” BTS says “Where my pain lies / Let me take a breath.” The album covers how BTS has traveled from the past to where they stand now, and “ON” tells a story of the members having to live with the “shadow” that comes with enormous fame as discussed in “Interlude : Shadow” on the very same album. With BE, BTS finally tells the story of their lives that are still unfolding. It’s not clear whether their questions about work asked in “Dis-ease” now found answers. It’s not known how long this will last, just like no one knows when this pandemic will finally run its course. We have no way of knowing if they are still in the mood expressed in “Blue & Grey” or they’re feeling the positivity of “Fly to My Room.” One thing that is clear is that while they battle work as one would with “Dis-ease,” they still wrote songs like “Telepathy” and “Stay” to send their messages to the fans, and kept busy getting ready to perform “Dynamite” on numerous stages. BE is the album that ties together all of their real-life events, both on and off stage, as one narrative. They started as an idol group and now their lives are intertwined inseparable from their music, their very existence becoming the stories they tell.

The way BE sets up different songs is directly linked to the musical changes BTS has undergone, and thus, are evident in the album. As the members’ stories take center stage, the arrangement focuses on getting their lines and melodies across and adjusts itself flexibly to each member’s part without following a certain trend or form. The arrangement filled with sounds of guitars, synthesizers, bass, drums, and pianos or sounds similar to real instruments is fitting to songs like “Fly to My Room” and “Blue & Grey”, in which auditory shifts accompany each member’s part. The smaller number of sounds used in

BE

compared to previous albums further emphasizes vocals, such as by accentuating the sound of Jung Kook inhaling in the beginning of “Life Goes On.” If J-Hope’s part in “Fly to My Room” reminds you of a gospel song, it’s not just because the synthesizer highlighted the gospel-like vibes but also because j-Hope’s voice that faithfully delivers his emotions as if giving witness to an epiphany with the line, “Thoughts can change by thinking.” Just like the auditory shift that takes place with SUGA’s rap part in “Blue & Grey” where the drums begin to layer, the arrangement of BE evolves constantly in line with each member’s part.

BE also takes on new challenges in format.. The chorus in “Blue & Grey” has such long melodies that it has no clear ending, and it fades out for the post-chorus that triggers an image of a lonely winter night with gloomy vocals. The post-chorus might seem like an abrupt shift but many devices contribute to giving this song the bleak wintery night vibe: RM’s somewhat distant rapping delivered through left and right on stereo that echoes through the room as well as the vocal recording that applied different echoes depending on lyrics and the solemn sounding cello. “Life Goes On” progresses in a similar fashion, starting with percussions ringing right next to your ears that create multi-layered sounds and taking you to an imagined space by blending the chorus and synthesizer. The story they tell resembles confessions about emotional states or specific circumstances, and the melodies unfold and rap flows in new ways as the story progresses While there are a lot of shifts, there is consistency in that sounds build the same sense of space. “Stay,” while being an EDM piece, ends on a rather blue note after phasing out beats that earlier set the stage for the dancefloor stomper. It makes sense given that the song is Jung Kook’s imagination of performing in front of the fans; Festivities in the song are interrupted by the fading out of vocals and overall sound layers. “Telepathy” offers a catchy hook in a song filled with bouncy spirit, just like “Dynamite” does. But the difference lies in that “Dynamite” brings out the explosive energy through repetition of melodies and variation of rhythms and that “Telepathy” phases itself out by reducing the number of sounds. “Fly to My Room” is about coming to terms with life in the pandemic, but the acknowledgment doesn’t necessarily make such a life enjoyable. Adding vibrant melodies isn’t a solution to challenges that accompany work, which are conveyed in “Dis-ease.” Such are the mixed feelings we experience in life—in which we have no control over a break or our approach—that are clearly expressed in the album by highlighting each member’s part and various shifts. Despite the numerous musical turns, the album has been produced in a way that ensures its consistency throughout the entire work; “Life Goes On” leaves you with the chorus where the seamless melodic flow seems like it’ll just keep on going.

In “Skit”, BTS is talking about how they’re practicing their debut song for performance eveon on the day after “Dynamite” became No.1 on the Billboard Hot 100. After they topped the chart with “Dynamite”, they came back with an album filled with songs seemingly the polar opposites of their hit single. Life seems to be on a loop but changes suddenly appear, and previous routines end up different because of this newness. BE is an acceptance of such peculiarity of life rather than an answer to it. BTS began with K-pop and now have become superstars of pop, and they’ve harnessed the power of their own story in the album by choosing neither path. The team that began its journey with “No More Dream” and have traveled to “Dynamite” leaves an open ending as to where they will head next. Still, the next chapter will be shared regardless of what it shapes up to be. That is why they can leave us wondering what comes after BE.

Trans © Weverse

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Seen ✓ - 1

REWRITE OF “Can You See The Stars”

Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader Warnings: fear of being kidnapped Word Count: 2.4k Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam.  A/N:This is my second attempt at the story everyone loved, with an actual pllot in mind this time. So, attempt number two, better writing, better story. Have at it kids.

I have tagged the old taglist for this first part. Let me know if you wanna be removed/ added

Beta: The lovely @percywinchester27​ . Thank you so so much hon :) Masterlist

Chapter One: you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night

Y/n   |  Sam

The road to independence is uphill, and Y/n knows this better than anyone. She’s done it all. She’s gone through jobs at a similar speed with which she goes through books, worked two or more of them, while also studying for college… She knows how it works, and it’s really fucking difficult to balance emotional baggage the size of a city, an underage sister and college, while also trying to keep, not only yourself, but another person, alive, under a safe roof with food in your stomachs.

Currently, she’s only working one job, at a dive bar owned by a friend of a friend as a waitress.

It’s a difficult job, and Y/n has struggled with it, but the hardest part is not the endless knowledge one needs to mix drinks –on the nights Joel takes time off and she has to take his spot behind the bar- or the carrying up to twenty pounds of glasses and drinks and delivering them at the right table without soaking herself or anyone else with copious amounts of alcohol. Any minimum wage worker will tell you the same thing- clients of any kind fucking suck. Especially if you’re a young woman at a dive bar after midnight.

Another thing she’s struggled with is not having too much money, which is why she’s needed multiple jobs in the past, so she has to use public transport- buses specifically, to go to and from work. And that is exactly where she finds herself, a couple hours after midnight, at her bus stop, five minutes from the bar, when she finds a phone which, unbeknownst to her, will flip her world upside down.

It sits on the pavement of the bus stop, limp and sad. The screen is cracked a significant amount, and for a second she figures someone got rid of it and was too much of an asshole to throw it in the trash. But the second that thought crosses her mind, the screen lights up with a concerning text.

dude where the fuck are you?!

The contact reads “Sam”, and Y/n stands over the phone staring at it. She’s concerned. What if the phone’s owner is in trouble? The device may have fallen from their pocket on the pavement and cracked because they were running from someone and never made it home, and now whoever is texting them is worried for their well-being. Anxiety grips her heart.

It’s instinct that brings her to kneel down and pick it up. She can’t possibly know when the owner lost it, or how long the phone has been sitting there, but there’s an overwhelming urge to contact this Sam person and let them know what’s going on. Of course, the voice in Y/n’s head tells her that this all could just be a product of her anxiety, but it beats leaving it there and having it be stolen by a passerby.

Whatever, right? Best case scenario, she contacts the owner, who is perfectly safe and sound, and they take their phone back. She’s not really planning to pocket it. It’s fairly damaged anyways. Her own three year old, beat-up, 100$ phone is in better condition.

The bus arrives, and Y/n picks up the phone and boards it.

As she sits in her usual seat in the back, alone in the bus apart from an elderly man asleep with his head on a window and a cap on his head near the front, she starts speculating, eyes glued to the black device in her hands. Who’s the owner? Who is Sam to them? Perhaps a partner? A friend? How did the owner lose their phone? Why would this Sam sound so concerned, and most importantly, is the owner okay?

The heavy weight of dread weighs her chest at the thought of the phone’s owner being in trouble and without a phone. She must contact Sam immediately.

Hey, is this Sam?

As she awaits for a response, her curiosity is killing her. The intrigued part of her, reasons that she should snoop, it’s alright, she’s only looking for more information about the owner. Like whether or not they’re a woman or a man- which, sadly, matters when you’re walking alone in dark streets like the ones around this area- and perhaps their age –because, again, it matters if they are a teenager or a forty-year old adult.

The lack of passcode indicates someone older, with nothing to hide, or perhaps someone less technologically savvy, again, someone who may not be very young. The lockscreen is the most popular Led Zeppelin icon, and she instantly respects their music taste, and the home screen is some generic western movie from the 90s with Clint Eastwood. The chances of this belonging to someone younger further decline.

There’s a grand total of four downloaded apps in the phone. There’s an email app, a scrabble app, a microphone recorder and a dating app, no other sign of social media. Someone over 18 years old, definitely.

Soon, she’s tapping on the dating app, and opening their profile page. Holy shit, she thinks.

A guy, the tall, dark and handsome kind. Spiky hair and a smolder-like smile, sharp edges everywhere on his face apart from his gentle, olive-shaped and colored eyes. His lips are full, his nose straight, and his eyelashes long, dark and thick. He’s a real-life dreamboat, the kind you see in movies and Cosmopolitan articles about sex. He’s sitting on a black muscle car, a Chevrolet, with his thick thighs barely contained in blue jeans.

Dean Winchester, the app writes. 28. Male. Likes: old cars, beer, hard rock, westerns, she figured that much, bacon burgers. Dislikes: pop music, modern horror movies, uncomfortable beds. Not looking for anything serious, just a night of fun ;), and wow, okay, he sounds a bit like a dick. The very Red-blooded American Male kind, that enjoys BBQs and winking at women from across the bar. She’s had enough of those during her line of work; she can recognize them from a mile away.

Whatever the case, her moral compass couldn’t allow her to pass up on the opportunity to possibly help someone in trouble. She ignores her urge to roll her eyes, and scrolls a little, finding other pictures of the same guy, when suddenly two separate notifications appear, the phone itself vibrating. One is from the app, which has now received a picture from this girl, Jamie, one which she certainly doesn’t plan on opening, seeing as it’s followed by a winky face. The second one is from Sam.

jesus dean how drunk are you

yes it’s sam. your brother? remember?

No, this isn’t Dean, uh.

My name is Y/n. Your brother lost his phone at a bus stop, near a bar.

i should’ve figured. dean rarely ever uses punctuation.

nice to meet you i guess

Nice to meet you, too.

So basically, uhm, I thought you might help me return his phone to him? I got worried, because this was dumped on the sidewalk, I thought he may be in trouble or something.

knowing him he probably dropped it while being too shitfaced to function.

gotta admit i’m impressed though. most people would’ve pocketed it by now.

I mean, it’s not much use to me with such a cracked screen haha.

yeah i guess.

i don’t know about getting it back to him though. i’m in kansas right now so i’m not close by. i don’t think i can help you.

he doesn’t use social media either.

Crap.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this phone then?

keep it probably.

You sure there’s no other way I can reach him?

i mean i can give you his email but i’m not sure he’ll respond.

I’ll take it. Thank you :)

no problem :)

As she looks up the bus stops, and she quickly realizes this is her stop. Throwing profanities loudly enough to wake the older man at the front of the bus, she scrambles for her things, haphazardly thrown in the seat next to her, and gets off the bus. She pats herself down, making sure she hasn’t forgotten anything as the doors of the bus shut, and starts down the road to her apartment complex.

She could probably navigate this road blind. There are many ways to reach the apartment she’s renting from the bus stop, but her favorite goes through the park. It’s a large area, full of big trees with thick foliage and leaves that brown in the fall. The paths are paved and winded, and the park benches are stained with dark wood stain and curve comfortably. She enjoys coming here in evenings she has off, watching the sun descend behind the top of the trees with a good book.

The air smells like oncoming rain now, and with headphones deep in her ears, she walks taking deep breaths and enjoying the clear atmosphere that seems so unlike the roads that surround the park. As soon as she spots the first raindrop falling from the sky, she pulls her hood over her head and smiles.

It’s minutes later, when single drops have picked up to a drizzle, that she gets a sinking feeling, her hair standing up on edge at the back of her neck, shoulders knotting closer to her ears. Someone is close to her.

With the wire pinched between her thumb and index, she pulls one earbud off and pays attention to the surrounding sounds. Sure enough there’s a second pair of footsteps behind her.

Fuck, if she gets kidnapped or attacked right now, she’s fucked. There are no witnesses, and at this time of night screaming for help would be futile. She checks her bag, but her paper spray is nowhere to be found.

Yeah. Definitely fucked.

Her hands go deep in her pockets, going for her phone, but as she hears the footsteps behind her picking up speed along with hers, she panics and grabs Dean’s instead. She doesn’t look for her own, there’s no time for that, so she does the first thing she thinks of.

She texts Sam.

I think I’m being followed.

what?

Yeah

wait what’s going on? are you okay? who’s following you?

I’m walking home from work. I can’t see who it is, but they’re definitely on my tail.

how are you even typing right now??

is there any buildings around?  somewhere public to get in?

It’s 3 am. Everything is shut and I’m in the middle of a fucking park, Sam.

Fuck, I’m fucked.

what are you doing at 3 am in the middle of a fucking park then?!

A hand falls on her shoulder and she goes to scream, before she’s quickly spun around. Her free hand is curled in a fist, ready to fall on the attacker’s nose, when they speak.

“Y/n! I thought it was you!”

“Connor?!” She squints and pushes her hair away from her forehead, heart just about ready to fail out of the fright she’s gotten. “Fuck’s sake, dude, what the fuck are you doing sneaking up on me in the middle of the night like this?!” Rain still falls on her, grounding her to the present, the fact she won’t have to fight for her life and corporeal integrity sinking in slowly.

Her neighbor smiles a crooked smile, watching her place a hand over her heart and taking a deep breath. His fluffy blonde hair is damp under the light rain, light green eyes glowing under the street lights. She’s so angry at him right now, she legitimately thought she was gonna die for a second there.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he says, dropping his hand from her shoulder. “I didn’t think to call out to you.” A shrug.

“It’s okay,” it’s really not, but there’s no point in staying angry at him. Besides, she figures she’ll be a little safer with him walking next to her all the way back to their apartment complex.

On the way back, they catch up. Connor is back in town after a long week and a half at his sister’s wedding. He’s in a brand new relationship with the guy he’s been pining over for like 9 months now, and he got a job at the bookstore, close to their building, he’s starting next week. He was out for a drink, he offers as an explanation, and was returning home, when he bumped into her. The park is also his favorite route to take.

The key dangles from her hands and finds a home in the lock and twists, while Y/n waves at her neighbor.

“Have a good night, Connor.”

“You too, Y/n.” It’s delivered with a wink and a bright smile.

The motions of dropping her bag by the kitchen counter, dumping the keys in the small bowl and hanging her coat on the hanger are delivered on autopilot in quick succession. Shoes toed off, hair pulled out of her lazy bun, she falls unceremoniously on her thrifted couch, feet suspended on the hand rest. Emmy must be asleep, the only lights on in the house are the fairy lights over the couch, setting a soft glow over the furniture. Y/n sighs. What a day.

Seconds before she falls asleep on the couch, a phone vibrates and it’s definitely not her own. Her eyes snap wide open, and she curses, fumbling with Dean’s device.

The messages are seven, and they all share the same panicked tone. Upon reading them, Y/n facepalms and curses, guilt weighing her down. Poor guy.

y/n?

what’s going on?

are you okay?

y/n

what the hell is going on.

you’re not replying.

please text me if you’re safe.

My God, Sam, I’m so sorry.

It was a neighbor/friend, he sneaked up on me.

you sure know how to fuck me up on a friday night.

I’m genuinely so sorry, Sam, I had no idea it was him.

it’s okay

you were scared.

i am starting to question your choice in friends though.

Y/n grins for the first time that day. It’s wide and full. Sam sounds like a guy she’d hang out with.

Hahahah yeah.

I promise, Connor’s odd, but he means well.

well i have to go

but i’m glad you’re safe

Again, I’m really sorry to make you go through that.

it’s fine really.

Thank you.

Goodnight :)

Night :)

 ---

Part 2

A/N 2: Tell me how you’re liking the rewrite! 

Old Can You See The Stars taglist: @shutupiminlooove​ @sammysgirl1997​ @kymberlytorres​ @bambi95-blog​ @demonic-meatball​ @thekarliwinchester​ @littlekay15​ @li-m-ii​  @thinspo-isuppose​ @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker​ @marichromatic​ @illuminatus42​ @lazy-author​ @mirandaaustin93​ @hauntedsiriel​ @pilaxia​ @devilgirlsarah​ @nobodys-baby-now​ @captiveties​ @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream​

Sam taglist @kymberlytorres @theboykingsam @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes​ @captainmarvelcorps​ @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away​ @nellachain​

[write-a-bad-romance]

Conversation Over (Isaac x Mozart Modern AU)

Characters: Isaac Newton and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart from Ikemen Vampire, some OCs

Pairings: Isaac x Mozart

Rating: T 

This is a companion piece to Stolen Batteries. Also available on Ao3.

Take out your heart and let it sit in the freezer.

Wolf lifted his head from the crook of his arm and stared into the darkness of his apartment.

Well, if it weren’t for the sunlight filtering in from the window. Reluctantly, the young composer rose from his chair to close the curtains.

Wolf hated the city lights. To him, they were nothing but noise when contrasted against the dark, unpolluted skies of the countryside.

“This is the best condition for stargazing.” The young man in front of him beamed as he set up the telescope.

That was another reason why Wolf kept the curtains shut throughout the entire night.

His surroundings were silent, save for the distant noise of traffic down below. Begrudgingly, Wolf admitted that his father had a point in pushing him this far. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have received enough commission to rent this high-rise apartment, with all its perks.

“Must be great having included housekeeping and laundry,” a voice called from the bathroom. “You can doss around on weekends and catch some sleep.”

Wolf returned to his desk and took a swig of cold, bitter coffee. Drowsily, he reached for his iPhone and unlocked it. It was 8 a.m. And there were three missed calls from Antonio.

That geezer. Immediately, Wolf pressed ‘call’ and barked to the other man. “What business do you have calling me this early?”

“Wolf! Good to know you’re already up and running!” Antonio greeted him cheerfully with his trademark raspy voice. “Get to the studio. There’s some trouble with the lyrics for the final track in the soundtrack.” 

“Lyrics? You think I’m a pop singer or something?”

“You- argh! We haven’t got time!” Antonio yelled. “Come on, Wolf. Help me out here!”

The white-haired youth sat down and stared at the hardwood floor in thought. He wasn’t in the mood to hear the old man rave, but taking a break from composing and seeing what his colleagues were up to seemed like a savory idea.

Better than wallowing alone in this empty apartment, at least.

“Alright. Give me an hour.” He sighed.

Wolf stared into blank space as Antonio and Cerise, the producer, went back-and-forth with the two girls over some lyrics sheet. Compared to Cerise’s composed tone, Antonio’s rankling voice was an irritant to his ears.

“Look, I understand you feel the need to do some experimentation with this piece,” the dark-skinned woman spoke coolly to the fuming man. “But you gotta at least listen to what the girls want. This is their song, after all.”

“You, you don’t get it!” Antonio yapped. “Don’t you want to produce something more than uninspired bops that the billboards churn every month or so?”

“If we’re talking about direction, then we need to go back to the lyrics and the impression you wanted to make,” Cerise turned to Bo-ram, one of the singers. “What did you have in mind while writing this?”

“Well,” Bo-ram shuffled through the notes and pointed at one of the papers. “It’s not made for any particular scene or anything. We just thought it’d fit these two characters…”

Wolf leaned back in his seat and gazed at the ceiling, propriety be damned. It wasn’t as if they acknowledged him or anything.

“You’re kinda quiet today, Wolf. Something the matter?” Cerise suddenly called to him with a hint of concern.

The young composer returned his attention to the bickering group, who were now gawking at him in silence.

“Eh, don’t mind him.” Antonio waved. “He’s gotten his panties in a twist since last week.”

You were the one who called me here, dummkopf. “Watch it.”

Although, had it really been only over a week?

Wolf dismissed the thought, “Let’s get to the recording booth, then. I want to hear what it sounds like." 

Wolf closed his eyes as he listened through the entire song.

While it wasn’t something that he’d composed (mainstream pop wasn’t exactly his cup of tea), but he had to admit that it was easy on the ears and that the vocals were indeed powerful. While he didn’t have much faith in the girls at first, they’d really outdone themselves this time.

"What’s the problem then?” He turned to Cerise and Antonio.

“The problem,” Cerise flashed a dry smirk. “Is that this guy here wants to add another rap on top of that existing rap.”

“You don’t understand!” The other man screeched. “I’m doing this for Bo-ram’s favor. I mean, the way she raps!”

You know jack about rap. Wolf wanted to say. Neither do I, to be honest.

While he did show some interest in rap once in a while, he never really took the plunge. Wherever his heart led, his brain would follow. There was simply not enough room for rap on top of his piling lists of concerns, both musical and not.

But Antonio was right. There was something in the way Bo-ram fired her words. He had to be sure.

“Let me hear that rap one more time,” Wolf instructed. “Without music.”

Bo-Ram did as she was told, under the strict man’s scrutinizing gaze. But even that wasn’t enough. “Again, with music.” He demanded.

Wolf listened intently to every word Bo-ram fired. It wasn’t just her (admittedly, brilliant) play of words and rhythm, but there was also her intensity with which she uttered her lines. He never once pictured anybody conveying such raw energy through meticulously crafted strings of words.

“What was the idea behind the song, again?” He asked Cerise pointedly.

“Oh, it’s about the game’s main character separating with his first girlfriend and some leftover  feelings.”

Leftover feelings.

Clearly, the rapper knew how to speak from the character’s point of view. She was his mouthpiece —or was that the other way around?

To him, she was rapping all her intent and emotion to a phantom —someone who wasn’t part of the audience. He supposed that he and the rapper had a lot in common. Even the most amateur of listeners could pick up all his emotions in every stroke, every note that flowed through his fingers. 

The audience was aware of his desires, but for whom?

They could build an image from bits of emotion they managed to gather, but never the entire portrait. The song is a fragment of stories, painting disjointed scenes of strife and peace without telling the tale in its entirety.

Wolf picked up his pen and set it on the paper. He rarely ever put his emotions into words, but for some reason, just this once, he wanted to try.

"Give me a second. I think I can come up with something.”

In the quiet of the next room over, Wolf stared at the blank sheet, his trembling hands capping and uncapping his pen.

Leftover feelings were not something he dealt with often since separations, throughout his history, were clean and impersonal, in his own words.

He had so far lived up to his reputation as an ice king, cold. So why? 

It never mattered to him who pulled the trigger and left the other to bleed. Wolf wasn’t always harsh. His upbringing compelled him to apologize when he needed to (with a straight face, of course), and leave. The sooner, the better.

He always made sure there were no pieces left to pick.

So why? He twirled the pen between his fingers. Why? Why? Why?

He loathed the feeling of waking up to an empty apartment. He wished for the physicist to step out of his door again, his hair all ruffled and eyes surrounded by dark circles after pulling another all-nighter. 

How ugly he looked as he sat on the table, scowling at his coffee mug and muttering about accidentally deleting parts of his thesis draft or complaining about his nagging supervisor.

In that window of time, when the other man let his guard down and showed his humanity was when Wolf felt most normal.  

It was painful seeing him stumble along imaginary walls that he erected himself. So much so that the rare (turned not-so-rare) moments when he coaxed his little hedgehog with soothing whispers was rewarding in its own.

Those eyes the color of cherry-blossom (not him, it was one of Napoleon’s girlfriends pointing it out) always looked like they were on the verge of tears. But they beamed even brighter than a supernova the moment he launched into one of his rants about the position of stars and the latest astronomical findings.

He once thought they looked like glass, but really they were a mirror. A mirror he painfully admitted wanted to see himself reflected on. Always.

He knew full well he didn’t deserve any of that.

Wolf was never new to spouting blunt nonsense— to harming people. It was a necessary evil for him to get by amid deadlines and obligations from his father in Vienna. It was his power and weakness. 

Whatever good he had with any of his previous partners, Wolf always knew there would be a point where they’d have to part. That was that. By the time he even uttered farewell, there were none of these leftover feelings that Cerise and Bo-ram talked about.

There was always a goodbye , and despite what people think of him, a sorry .  The latter was often devoid of weight, to be honest.

And yet the heaviest one was the one he couldn’t say out loud.

It’s never them, it’s me. Wolf scratched the pen over and over until it left behind a yarn of angry black lines. It’s not you, it’s me.

For the first time in his solitary excuse of a life, he felt pain over a wound he knew for sure he had inflicted on someone else. 

Sighing, he picked up the pen and began to scribble the lyrics— no, words he meant to say.

Isaac, I…

“I don’t think that part needed any rap. Keep it that way.”

“Eh, are you sure? The girls love it, Cerise loves it and so do I! What — ”

“I’m sure. The song is good enough as it is. Tell that to the girls.”

Some words are best kept to yourself.

[benaffleckofcrowdsurfing]

Lazerquest - part 3

Alex Turner x Reader

Chapter 3/?

Description: you are an impulsive bartender who recently moved to London after traveling across the United States and living on the road for a few years. You befriend Alex, a musician who recently got out of a long term relationship, and you show him the ways of your free-spirited lifestyle in an attempt to help him move on from his ex. However, you become more of a muse than a friend for Alex and all is revealed when he releases his band’s fourth studio album, “Suck it and See”.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: none

Tag list (msg me if you would like to be added):

@lolurnotmileskane @imagine-that-100

Updates whenever the heck I please (at least once a week) 

Oh also for those of you who don’t know: 

Y/N: your name (first)

Y/L/N: your last name

Y/F/N: your full name (first & last)

Y/N/N: your nickname

**************

“Oi, Y/N. Do you want to explain to me why Alex Turner is asleep on my couch?”

You were shook awake by your roommate, who looked rather embarrassed.

“I told him he could stay the night. Him and I were up until like 5 a.m…. Is that a problem?” you grunted before flipping back over and shutting your eyes.

“Yes it’s a problem, I just went out there in nothing but a towel to start my coffee! A literal celebrity could’ve seen me nearly naked!” Tatiana whisper-shouted. 

“Well he didn't, did he?”

“Well...no…”

“Then why are you in here, Tatiana? I don’t see an issue.”

“Fine. I’ll leave you alone grumpy,” Tati said and walked out of your room, but immediately she turned around and shot you a devious look. “Before you go back to sleep, though, I think your little friend is waking up. And since you didn’t give him a good shag last night, I’m gonna go make my move.”

Your eyes shot open and you were out of bed in a matter of milliseconds. “You better not, Tati. I swear to God.”

She winked at you before darting down the hall, and you ran after her. The two of you turned into a scene out of Tom and Jerry, chasing each other around the apartment but being silent so as to not wake up Alex. This went on for way longer than it should have, before the two of you heard rustling coming from the couch and stopped dead in your tracks. Tati had to put her hand over her mouth to suppress her laughter and you mouthed some profanities at her before watching Alex’s head pop out from the couch and rub his eyes at you.

“Well good mornin’ ladies. The two of you are pretty energetic, aren’t you?”

You thought Tati was going to pass out from embarrassment, and you had to chew on your bottom lip to stop yourself from bursting out into laughter. “Morning, Turner,” you said.

“Can I get either of you some coffee?” Tati asked and turned toward the kitchen. Both you and Alex expressed interest in Tati’s offer, and you went to sit beside him while your roommate was in the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep?” you whispered to Alex and rubbed his back reassuringly.

“Not too bad considering how small your couch is,” he smiled and ran a hand through his messy hair. “I actually slept better than I have in days. I think that opening up to you last night really helped.”

You couldn’t help but grin. Alex and you had stayed up for hours talking about his feelings, and you could tell it was something that was long overdue. He had so much pent up that he told you it physically hurt to talk through his emotions, but a bottle of wine and many tears later he said that a huge weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He wouldn’t tell you this until months later, but that first night Alex came to trust you and enjoy your company more than he ever had with anyone before. You already felt like an old friend to him, the way you clicked and communicated was perfect and he never wanted to be away from you.

“I’m glad to hear that, Alex. You better be well rested, we have a long day ahead of us,” you chirped, and rubbed your hands together in anticipation. Boy oh boy did you have a day planned for Alex. You genuinely wanted to help him get his mind off of Alexa as best as you could, and you knew only one way to do that.

Alex gave you a curious look. “What kind of long day?”

“That’s unimportant. Just know you’ll have lots of fun. Oh, you don’t have anywhere you need to be tomorrow, do you?” 

“Not that I know of… but if we’re going to be out all day and night then we’ve gotta go back to my place so I can change.”

Before you could respond to Alex and let him know that’d be fine, Tati re-entered the room with 3 cups of coffee, creamer, and sugar in her arms. “Where are you guys going? Do I get the apartment to myself today?”

“There’s our little waitress!” you clapped. “and yes, you get the apartment to yourself today. Alexander and I are going on a bit of an adventure.”

“Ah, a classic Y/F/N adventure! How come Mister Turner gets to accompany you in one before I do?” Tati pouted and handed out the coffees. She put a considerable amount of cream and sugar in hers before handing you the creamer.

You took the bottle from your roommate and thanked her. “Well, Tatiana, maybe if you didn’t work 6 days a week we would have gone on one by now. Alex just so happens to have an open schedule today, and I want to help him take his mind off of some things,” You smiled at your new friend, before noticing that Tatiana was giving you a wild look. “Not like THAT Tati. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

Alex laughed heartily at that and began to drink his coffee.

“No cream or sugar for you, Alex?” Tati asked.

“Nah, I like my coffee like I like my women…. bitter and unforgiving,” Alex smirked. You and Tati looked at each other and then back at Alex before cackling like witches.

The rest of the morning was spent with the three of you on the couch, cracking jokes and enjoying coffee. Around noon you left Alex alone with Tatiana in the living room so you could go get ready for your day. 

After taking a shower, you slipped on a pair of black Levi’s shorts that very much reminded you of your time spent in the southwestern United States. They were vintage and had an extremely worn look, and you had added studs to the front and replaced the worn pockets with new ones made of a black bandana material. They served looks that you described as “trashy cowgirl”, and you thought they paired perfectly with a black bralette, a leopard print fur coat, and your go-to platform Doc Martens for a True Romance vibe. Back home, your friends praised your sense of fashion constantly, saying you were “classy coke whore chic”. Your most iconic looks consisted of vintage mini dresses, printed pants, platform shoes, corset style tops, and lots of fishnets. Basically anything that was out of the ordinary and had a vintage vibe, you were all over. 

After putting together your outfit for the day, you put on some mascara, a plum lipstick, grabbed your denim bag, put your hair up into a banana clip, and walked back out into the living room. You were surprised to find Tatiana and Alex still on the couch, playing chess. 

“That’s checkmate,” Tatiana yelled victoriously, and Alex had his head in his hands.

“Aw Turner, not too good at chess, are you?” You giggled. When he looked up, a wide smile appeared across his face.

“That’s one hell of an outfit you’ve got on, Y/L/N. You may even be taller than me in those shoes. Looks like something out of a horror movie,” he chuckled, and stood up from the couch. “Time for us to go, then?”

You nodded and walked toward Tatiana to hug her good-bye. “Yep. Except we have to take the tube around, unless Tatiana wants to lend me the car,” you looked at your roommate with puppy dog eyes, praying she’d say yes. Her BMW Z4 was one of your favorite cars to drive, and any excuse to do so you were all over. 

“Oh, don’t be silly. I’ve got a perfectly good car that we can take on our day trip back at my place. We’ll just take the tube back to mine,” Alex said, and gave Tatiana a hug. “Farewell, Tati, thanks for completely destroying me in chess.”

“Anytime Alex, hope to see you again soon!” Tati chirped, and with that we were out the door

************

“This is a really nice place, Alex,” you gasped as you walked through the door of his apartment. It was one of the most beautiful spaces you’d ever seen, and it was obvious Alex lived here. There were massive bookshelves overflowing with books and records everywhere, convert and movie posters on the walls, and close to 20 guitars in different spots of the apartment.

“Oh it’s not much, I’m in the process of moving again since Alexa took her shit and left. I think I’m going to take a lot of this stuff back to Sheffield and then get a spot in LA to record the next Monkey’s album,” Alex mumbled. You could tell he didn’t like being here much. “I’m gonna go shower, feel free to pop a record onto the turntable over there or raid my fridge or whatever.” You smiled and nodded as Alex turned down the hall. You headed over to the shelf containing his vinyl, and browsed his collection for 10 or so minutes, just taking in the massive amount of music he owned, before settling on a Best Of Tom Petty album. Petty’s music reminded you a lot of home, it’d be the perfect music to get Alex into the mood for the day you had planned. You walked over to his record player, which was very nice and had an amazing speaker setup, before putting the disk onto the machine and adjusting the needle. When you pressed play, American Girl began blasting through the apartment. You smiled. How fitting. 

Moments later, Alex emerged from the dark hallway, wearing nothing but black skinny jeans.

“Where’s your shirt, silly?” you laughed over the music. Alex didn’t reply, though, he just started singing and grabbed your hand. He put his other hand on your waist, signaling he wanted to dance, and after you put your free hand on his shoulder the two of you started singing and dancing around the apartment. The music was so loud and you both were so distracted by dancing and singing and laughing that you hadn’t noticed the door open and a man walked in. 

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” The man said, and you and Alex both nearly jumped out of your skins. 

“Jesus, Miles, you’re gonna give me a heart attack,” Alex gasped, still clinging on to you for dear life. Miles was laughing so hard he struggled to breathe. When the three of you calmed down and caught your breath, Alex let go of you and went over to Miles. He gave Miles a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and Miles grabbed Alex’s ass. The embrace lasted a few seconds, and then they both turned to face you. 

“And who might you be?” Miles said in a cheesy, fake, posh accent.

“Miles, this is my friend Y/F/N. Y/N, this is Miles Kane, one of my closest mates.”

Miles flashed you a smile and shook your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” 

“As it is you, Miles.” You flashed a grin at Miles. He was quite charming, and you could tell that his personality complimented Alex’s well. 

“So, Alex,” Miles muttered. “What kind of friend is this Y/N?” 

Alex elbowed him in the side. “A friend friend. We’re going on some sort of ‘adventure’ today, but Y/N won’t tell me where we’re going.” 

You gave the boys a devilish smile. “Patience, Alex. If you’d go out a damn shirt and some shoes on, you’d find out sooner than later.” 

At this Alex chuckled and shook his head. “Fine. I’ll go get ready. Miles? Is there any specific reason you’re in my house?”

“Just dropped in to say hi. You go get yourself fixed up and I’ll keep your lady friend company.” Miles said and put an arm around your shoulder. Alex gave Miles a warning look as if to say ‘play nice’, and walked back down the hall toward his room.

“So, Y/N, care to dance? I didn’t mean interrupt your and Alex’s waltz,” Miles said, and put a hand out. You nodded your head and flashed him a toothy grin before putting yours into his and the two of you began doing a little tango.

Miles was a flashy dancer, he had spun you around and dipped you over and over again, the both of you laughing and singing. When Alex came back out he stood against the wall watching the two of you with a big grin plastered across his face. Miles and you danced through the entire album, and when the familiar sound of the needle hitting the end of the record sounded, Alex erupted into applause. 

“That was bloody amazing, you two!” He exclaimed. You and Miles took a bow, and then he hugged you. 

“You’re welcome to Alex’s any time I’m here, Y/N. You’re a brilliant dance partner.” Miles chirped, and you gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek.

“As are you, Miles,” you smiled and turned to Alex. “Ready to go, slow poke?” 

Alex nodded. “Miles, lock up when you leave, please? And don’t eat all of my leftovers!” 

As the two of you turned to walk out of the door, you heard Miles shout “No promises!” Alex rolled his eyes and shut the door behind you.

“So, how do I look?” Alex grinned, and did a little spin as to show off his outfit. He was sporting a Rolling Stones tee, his skinny jeans, and a pair of suede ankle boots. His hair was as long and unruly as always, and you had to refrain yourself from running your hands through it.

“You look fantastic Alex. Although I know something that would make your outfit absolutely perfect,” you smirked. He furrowed his brows in confusion, but you just turned around and started down the hallway of his apartment complex. “So where’s this car you were telling me about?”

[strangerthancamusx]

Scotch, A HTGAWM fanfiction.

(A Flaurel ficlet, because they should’ve been endgame and now I’m shipping way too hard...)

Frank was jolted awake by a harsh ringing sound. It took him a few moments to realize that it was his cellphone— someone was calling him. Groaning, he reached out for it on his nightstand to find a woman’s beautiful face smiling at him. But not just any woman.

Laurel.

It was 4 o’clock in the morning. She was supposed to be asleep, like he was a few minutes ago. Worried, he answered the call.

“Laurel?” He asked tentatively, voice husky from sleep. “S’wrong?”

There was a pause. “Hellooo, Frankie D,” Laurel giggled. Frank lets out an annoyed sigh. “Is this a voicemail? I don’t know, I don’t care. I just want to say that I really... really hate... how much you make me think.”

Frank swears he forgot how to breathe as he listened to her rambling. She’s obviously drunk. Too drunk, in his opinion. And that’s saying something.

“...I hate that I can’t stop thinking... about you. You’re so damn sexy that it hurts me.” Laurel’s voice cracked and Frank remained silent. “I want to know you, but why won’t you let me do that? You don’t have to protect me, you know. I’m a big girl girl now, I’m tough.” He could hear her sniffling in the background, and the sound of something liquid being poured. It was then Frank made up his mind.

“Laurel? Are you still there?”

“Hmm? Oh,” she giggled again. “I poured too much scotch, Frank. I guess I better not let it go to waste.”

“You in your apartment?”

“Yeah... why?” Laurel slurred.

“I’m coming over. You’re too drunk.”

“You’ll let me... let me get to know you better? Like, better, better?” She snorts out a watery laugh. “‘Cause I wanna do that. I wanna see you, maybe naked, on my be—“

“Alright, princess. I’m not your gigolo. Keep your panties on, be there in ten.”

“Oookay, Frankie D. I’ll be here with my scotch, waiting for ya,” Laurel pauses for a bit, and says something in a small voice that made Frank freeze. “Y’know, I think I love you...”

Frank got dressed faster, if that was even possible. He shrugged on his jacket and picked up his keys, where a spare to Laurel’s was hanging. She didn’t even know that he still had it, after that one time Laurel had slipped it to him discreetly at work. It was an invitation for a fun night, one that Frank had not been able to forget.

He had arrived on her doorstep in record time. Not even bothering to knock, Frank stepped into Laurel’s cluttered apartment.

“I swear to God,” Frank huffs. Despite his ruggedness and overly-manly appearance, he is nothing but a neat freak. “Maybe I can sneak in here one time just to clean.”

He walked into the living and kitchen area only to find it empty. Frank furrowed his eyebrows.

“Laurel?” Frank called out, but was met with silence. He then noticed her bedroom door, which was left ajar. He peeked inside to find Laurel, laid on her back on the floor with her phone still glued to her left ear. She met his eyes and looked at her phone confusedly.

“How are you here already? I was just talkin’ to ya!”

Frank sighed impatiently. “That was ten minutes ago, Laurel. I ended the call before I got ready to go here.”

“Nope, I was talking to you. You were saying something funny. Like, leave a message or somethin’. And that was what I was doing, leavin’ you a message.”

He looked at her, amused now. Frank looked forward to listening to those messages, but right now he has to get Laurel to bed. “Yeah, I bet you were. Come on now, princess, you gotta sleep. Annalise will kill you if you don’t show your pretty face later at the office.”

“M’pretty, huh? You think I’m pretty? But not pretty enough to screw? Not enough to be your girl.”

“Laurel...” Frank half-heartedly threatened. It’s not the time to talk about that, especially since he’s almost certain that Laurel won’t remember any of her words by the time she wakes up.

“No, really, tell me the truth. I just can’t be enough for you, can I?” Laurel asked quietly.

Frank sighed again. Persistent little princess. He cleaned her a bit and hauled her to bed. He was just about to get up and leave when she reached out to him.

“Stay.”

Frank didn’t know if that was a good idea, but caved in when he saw the look in her eyes. He proceeded to prop up some pillows between the two of them to act as a barrier. Laurel shifted on her side to look at him, expecting an answer to her earlier question. Frank settled on the other side of the bed and brushed her hair away from her face. He looks at her decidedly.

“Okay, y’know what... I don’t think you’ll remember this when you wake up, so I gotta say this. You are more than enough for me, Laurel,” he took a deep breath to still the emotions in his heart. Chuckling softly at his current state, he continued. “You make my heart beat everyday, even if I didn’t think t’was possible. I may not be the most religious guy out there, Laurel, but I will always think that maybe there is someone watching over us. I’m the last person to deserve something good in life, but I have you. And I can’t bear it – hell, I know I won’t be able to – if I’d lose you. So don’t say you ain’t enough for me, princess. Maybe I’m the one who isn’t. But you’re it for me. Will always be.”

Laurel stared at him for a beat and gives him a smile. He swears that that was the most beautiful one he has ever seen. Before he could continue or she could say anything, Laurel closed her eyes and promptly fell asleep. Frank laughed quietly. So much for having this conversation.

“Sleep tight, princess. Love you.”

Frank kissed Laurel’s forehead, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. He was comforted by Laurel’s warmth and even breathing.

———

When Laurel woke up three hours later, she was confused. She remembered opening the bottle of scotch she bought on her way home, and settling down on the floor by her bed. Before opening her eyes, she snuggled deeper on her body pillow that was keeping her warm and comfy even in the middle of a really bad hangover. She loved waking up to— wait a minute. She doesn’t own a body pillow. Her eyes snapped open, only to find her arms wrapped around a muscular torso. But not just any muscular torso.

Frank.

And then everything came back to her. The amount of scotch she consumed, the call she made, the voicemails she left in his inbox... and the tender look in his eyes before she fell asleep.

“You’re it for me,” he had said. Was that true? Or was it just a scotch-induced dream that was produced by her fantasies of Frank confessing his love for her?

Laurel reached up and ran her finger through his silky hair, which made him shift in his sleep. He had always been a light sleeper, but she figured that taking care of her last night wore him down. Looking around the room, she noticed his phone resting on her nightstand, but she had to reach across him in order to get it. She had to delete her voicemails, it was embarrassing enough that he took care of Drunk Laurel last night, having him listen to her confessing her love for him might just be too much.

She was lying on top of him and had almost reached the phone when she was suddenly flipped on her back. Frank was awakened by her attempt to reach the nightstand, and was looking down at her with an amused smirk.

“What d’you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing. And stop yelling, my head hurts,” Laurel said, almost whining.

“Mm, looks like you’re trying to reach my phone, princess. You tryin’ to erase something?”

Laurel huffs, annoyed that her plan was ruined.

“What’re in those voicemails, anyway?” Frank asked, grinning. “You confessed to a murder or somethin’?”

Laurel hit his chest. “What do I have to do for you to delete them?”

“Nothin’, ‘cause I wanna hear it.”

“Please, Frank?”

“Nope,” Frank replied, popping the ‘p’. “Get your lazy ass up, princess. Annalise won’t take you being hungover as an excuse for being late, even if she knows the feeling all too well.”

Laurel groans as Frank removes himself above her and snatches his phone before she can even get the chance to reach it.

“Now, can I leave you by yourself to get ready? No more calling while drunk?”

“Just... stop yelling and get out of here.”

“Okay, okay,” he smirked. “See ya later!”

Frank walked out Laurel’s apartment, whistling. He had only slept for three more hours, but he swears that was the best sleep he’s ever had. Waking up next to Laurel is something he wants to do for as long as he’ll have her.

———

Later that day, Laurel and Frank found themselves alone in the kitchen of the Keating House, making coffee. Both were quiet, with questions perched on the tips of their tongues. After they finished, they spoke simultaneously.

“So—“

“Was it—“

They looked at each other and both let out a chuckle.

“Ladies first,” said Frank.

Laurel took a deep breath. “Was it true? What you said last night, I mean.”

Frank, who was about to take a sip from his coffee, froze. “Which part?” He asked slowly.

“That I’m... it... for you. Yeah, that one.”

“You think I was kidding?”

“I don’t know, Frank. I thought I was dreaming. Maybe I was scared that it was just a dream. Maybe you said that just because you want me to go to sleep, or something. Maybe—“

Frank then cut her off with a kiss. For both of them, it felt different from any other kiss they shared. His hands did not automatically rest on her behind, but were cupping her cheeks. Her hands weren’t busy undoing the buttons on his three-piece suit, but were tangled on his hair and pulling him down closer to her. It was a kiss that signified a new start for both of them. A recognition that they were something more, something they both wanted from the start but were too scared to acknowledge. When they broke the kiss, they were breathless.

“You think I was kidding?” Frank repeated after a beat.

Laurel smiled at him. “You love me, huh?”

“Yeah, I do. I hope you got no problem with that, ‘cause I wanna let you know that every day of our lives.”

“I’d like that.”

“Hmm? Sounds nice, no? You my girlfriend now, then?”

Laurel smiled that radiant smile that Frank loved to see. And they kissed again, both filled with passion and love. They only broke away when they heard the front door open.

“The rat pack’s back.”

“I’ll miss you,” Laurel said. She never thought she would end up a clingy girlfriend (girlfriend!) but with Frank, she thinks she’s in for a lot of surprises.

“I bet you will. What d’you say I go to your place later, cook some dinner? Let’s finish up that bottle of scotch you had last night. We’ll just... talk.”

“Sounds good, babe.” Laurel gives him a final kiss and saunters to the doorway, coffee completely forgotten.

Frank then remembered something. “Laurel?”

“Yeah?”

“So... maybe we’ll test your new bed?” Laurel’s eyes widen. The voicemails! “You told me you bought it specifically for—“

“Shut it, Frank!” Laurel warns him, eyes still wide. She hurriedly goes back to the sitting area, face red. Frank was left in the kitchen, guffawing.

He can’t express how happy and light he felt at that moment. Frank never thought he would be capable of loving someone as much he loves Laurel, let alone be loved in return. He was annoyed that he was awoken at 4 o’clock, yes. But Laurel is worth it. Will always be.

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - XXVIII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 28

Word-count: 3.6k+

A/N: what a time guys!! this season was sad and stressful (and there’s still a bit to go) but i’m rooting for these dummies!!

Somewhere between eating all the candy in the vending machine and your phone dying, Stiles opened up to you about what happened at Eichen House. He started with being institutionalized and the kid hanging himself in the stairwell on his first day there and ended with watching Brunsky choke on his own blood in the basement a few hours ago. 

“Stiles, you know none of that is your fault, right?” you asked when you were sure he was done speaking. He didn’t answer so you moved out from under his arm to look at him, sitting up and holding his hand in your lap. “You couldn’t have saved that kid; you didn’t even know him. Brunksy was a sadist. I don’t even know if he’s worth saving. But-” 

“You think people can be too far gone to save?” he asked, not moving an inch from where he lay on the bed. He was watching the way you moved his hand in yours.

“I don’t know,” you said quietly, dropping your gaze to your hands as well. It was easier than looking at him when he was so sad. “But I do know that we saved Malia. And Lydia. And you. That’s worth it to me.” 

Stiles didn’t say anything else while the two of you waited for your mom to bring a tape player, and you weren’t sure if you had anything else to say. Another stilted, emotional conversation with no real ending. 

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you almost jumped out of your skin when Melissa opened the door and set down an old stereo on the table. “You would not believe how hard it is to track one of these things down nowadays,” she said with a sigh. “The good news is that we should have you in for that CT Scan in a few minutes, and then you can go home.” 

“That’s great, Mom. Thanks,” you smiled as you sat back up. 

“Yeah, really, thank you,” Stiles said, reaching over to put the stereo on the bed. 

Melissa gave you each a smile before heading out the door again. Once the door closed behind her, Stiles grabbed the tape he’d placed under the pillow and popped it into the stereo. 

“He used to make tapes whenever he killed people.” 

“To relive the kill,” you said. Stiles looked at you and you shrugged. “I watch Criminal Minds. You sure you want to listen to this again?” 

“I don’t really think we’ve got much of a choice,” he said, finger hovering over the play button. “You ready?” 

“Yes,” you lied. “Play it.” 

Lorraine’s voice was so certain as it drifted over the speakers. She knew she was going to die, and she knew Brunsky was going to kill her just like the rest of the patients. Your breath hitched. Lydia had to listen to her grandmother get murdered as the same man tried to murder her. It made you sick. 

Stiles had to go in for his scan before you could talk about it, but you stayed in his room and listened to the tape until he came back. Every time, you hoped it would end differently. That she wouldn’t ask him not to hurt Lydia. That you’d figure something out. It ended the same each time. 

“Your mom has, against her better judgment, cleared me to go home,” Stiles said as he leaned back in the room. “She said it was important that I tell you the judgment part. You ready to go?” 

“Yeah, I just-” you sighed and shut off the stereo. “Remember how you said you don’t think they were at Eichen House on the tape?” 

“Yeah, Brunsky said ‘taking you back to Eichen House.’ Plus, there weren’t any echoes.”

“Right, exactly. So where would she have been, completely alone?” 

“Not at home, not with the Martins.” 

“I think she was at the lakehouse,” you said, looking back up at him. “It’s the only place that makes sense. Everything with her leads back there.” 

“Then let’s go to the lake house.”

The drive to the lake house was arguably the fastest and most erratic twenty minutes of your life, excluding the five extra minutes to pick up Malia because ‘even though she’s still mad at Stiles, she wants to help.’ Stiles used his copy of Lydia’s key to get in but you froze in the threshold. Whatever you were going to find in there, even if you found nothing at all, was going to change things again. After some encouragement, you let Stiles take your hand and lead you to the study. 

It felt wrong to be in there without Lydia, like you were trying on someone’s clothes without their permission, but you knew you had to do it. Stiles sat down and played the record player while you analyzed everything in the room. How many weekends had you spent here with Lydia doing this exact thing? 

“What are we even doing here?” Stiles sighed as he got to his feet and shut off the record player. He was frustrated. After half an hour of nothing but needle scratching, you were frustrated too. “This room wasn’t made for people like us. No, we need someone like Lydia or Meredith. We’re just sitting here listening to a stupid record player play a record that doesn’t play anything!”

“Try saying that five times fast,” you said, holding up your hands for him to help you to your feet. You let out a breath as you landed a few inches in front of him. “There’s gotta be something here, Stiles.” 

“Then let’s try somewhere else in this stupid-” 

“Guys?” Malia asked. She was still cross-legged in front of the record player and she looked confused. “I can still hear it.”

“It’s not on,” Stiles said, still frustrated. 

“Then it’s something else,” Malia insisted. She got to her feet as you and Stiles walked back over to her. “Something’s spinning.” 

Stiles took a step closer and started feeling around the record player. He found the spot where its cord connected to the wall, moved the record player out of the way, and started pulling. It broke through the plaster. 

You dropped next to him and put your hand on his to stop him. “Stiles! Lydia said not to damage the house, remember? Not a scratch.” 

“We have to find whatever’s still spinning,” he said, keeping his voice level. “Trust me. I can do this.” 

Reluctantly, you got back to your feet and stood next to Malia as he pulled the cord out of the wall in a long, jagged line. He looked back over at you and you shrugged. The wall was already ruined, what did it matter if the three of you tore the rest of the drywall off? Once the hole was big enough, you saw three long towers spinning in front of you, and if you listened close enough you could fool yourself into thinking you heard them. 

“What is this?” Malia asked. 

“The deadpool,” Stiles answered. 

She didn’t wait for either of you to say anything else before she tried to put her fist through one of the towers. Stiles scrambled to grab her arm and you grabbed her by the waist to pull her back. 

“No, no!” Stiles huffed. Once he was sure you were holding her, he added, “You can’t just smash it to pieces, okay? If this thing’s being used to disseminate the list, then it’s probably gonna keep going until everyone’s dead.”

“Then what do we do?” Malia asked. It was like she and Stiles had swapped moods; she was frustrated and he was doing his best.

You sighed and let go of her. “We figure out how to turn it off. Each part of the list needed a key, right? So maybe we just need to find the key for the towers.”

“Like a physical key?” Stiles asked. 

Malia stepped forward and you reached out to grab her again but she held a hand out as a signal to stop. You fell back and she reached her other hand up to point to the top of the tower; a physical lock to switch them on and off sat at the tip of her finger. “Yeah, like a physical key.” 

“Okay, Stiles, you call Lydia. Malia, you wanna help me look?” you asked. 

You and Malia started going through the drawers while Lydia asked about the monitor for the computers and Stiles kept repeating that there wasn’t anything other than the towers. Then she asked to see the floor and you and Malia looked at one another before closing the cabinets and walking over to Stiles. 

“Where’s the stain?” Lydia asked. “There should be red blotches. A wine stain.”

“There’s nothing there, Lyd,” you said. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she mumbled. She used the cleaner money to bribe Brunsky, so there should have been a big, red stain on the carpet where there was nothing but white. 

“What the hell does wine have to do with anything?” Stiles snapped. 

“Red wine doesn’t just disappear,” Lydia said. It sounded like she was pretty tired and frustrated too. Then she sparked. “Unless it wasn’t wine.” 

“So what the hell else would it be?” Stiles asked.

“The ashes weren’t ashes. The study isn’t a study. And the record player isn’t a record player! So … so maybe the wine wasn’t wine,” Lydia said. “Stiles, you have to find the wine. Find the bottle. There could be something about it.” 

Stiles started bolting to the kitchen, Lydia telling him what to look for over the phone, and you took a breath. Rubbing your temples, you looked at Malia, who looked equal parts annoyed and confused. Just like in geometry.

“You know, I’m really glad you’re here,” you said with a smile. 

She frowned for a second before nodding. “Me too.” 

When Stiles came back, he was rattling the bottle in one hand and holding the phone in his other. “I think there’s something inside. Do you have, like, a wine opener or-” 

Malia reached across you and took the bottle out of his hands. She threw it on the ground and you knelt next to her to help sift through the pieces as Stiles tried to calm Lydia down. Everything went quiet when you held up a key. 

Taking it from your hand, Stiles went over and put it in the tower. He looked over and you nodded before he turned the key. You held your breath as the lights on the towers started going out and the plates stopped spinning. 

“Is it over?” Malia asked. 

“I think so.” 

---

The next few days were a blissful kind of foggy where no one was trying to kill your friends. The lack of a visible threat didn’t mean any of you were less on edge, but it meant that you finally had time for other things. Things like school, planning a first date, lacrosse, and (for some of you) sleeping in and missing lacrosse. 

“Stiles,” you said for the tenth time, rubbing his arm lightly. You hated having to wake him up when he got as little sleep as he did. “Stiles, babe, you’ve gotta wake up. Coach is gonna kill you if you’re late for another morning practice.” 

Nothing. 

“Okay, you know what, I’m just gonna ask Noah to drop me off on his way to the station.” You stood up and did your best not to look at his cute, tired face as he frowned up at you. “I’ll just stay at my house and see you at lunch from now-”

Stiles grabbed your wrist and laughed. “Hey, wait, I’m up, okay? I’m up.” He pulled you back onto the bed and curled around you. 

“Mm, you sure?” you asked as he yawned, rubbing his head against your arm. 

“Maybe in like five more minutes?” 

You laughed and twisted around to cup his face before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Get up. We’re gonna be late.” 

“You’re cute when you’re bossy,” he mumbled, a lazy smile on his face. Your heart swelled at the sight of it. He was happy.

“Okay, five more minutes.” 

Stiles cheered and pulled you back into him, the two of you laughing and holding each other for a little longer than five minutes. 

---

Even though the whole pack was taking advantage of the lull of supernatural activity, you and Stiles were taking your fair share and more. The two of you were finally going on your first real date. To differentiate between this dinner and the countless others you’d had together, Lydia picked out your outfit, Stiles chose the restaurant, and you were driving.

He didn’t tell you anything about where you were going except that it was fancy, so you begrudgingly wore the heels Lydia lent you. Wobbling up the walk to the Stilinski household, you reminded yourself that this was Stiles. Goofy Stiles that you’d had a crush on since before you knew how to write. You had no reason to be so nervous, but the butterflies in your stomach didn’t listen to reason. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Noah greeted you with a warm smile as he opened the door. “Stiles is upstairs, so you can either go get him or help me sort through a week’s worth mail.”

“As tempting as expired coupons sound, I think I’ll go see what’s taking him so long,” you laughed and kissed Noah’s cheek before carefully making your way up the stairs. All you needed was for this night to end with you in the emergency room for a twisted ankle. 

But, thankfully, you made it up in one piece. 

Stiles’ door was slightly open and your gentle knocking pushed it all the way. He was standing in front of the mirror, earbuds in and music blaring as he struggled his way through knotting a tie. He wasn’t tying it, because that required some sort of calmness and focus. He was haphazardly throwing the ends into loops and through each other, and getting increasingly frustrated at the turnout. 

He noticed you when you were halfway across the room, but he didn’t say anything until you were right next to him and taking out his earbuds. 

“Wow, you look … like, really pretty. Like way out of my league. Are you wearing heels? Damn, McCall, you really-”

Blushing slightly, you laughed and looked down at the earbuds you were wrapping up. “So I’m guessing that means I’m not overdressed for wherever we’re going?”

“No. No, you’ll fit right in,” Stiles said as he took a breath. He was still staring at you when you looked back up at him. “Me, on the other hand. They’ll never let me in unless I get this damn tie to work.” 

“Do you even know how to tie one of these?” 

“Well, no. Never stopped me before.” 

You laughed and started unknotting the tie. “Lucky for you, I used to have to wear one of these bad boys every day for school.” You moved behind him, reaching your arms under his and up to where the ends of the tie dangled. You were more than a little out of practice, but Stiles didn’t seem to mind how slowly you worked. Tightening the knot to his neck, you reached over and kissed the back of his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. “There, perfect.” 

“I think so, too,” Stiles said in a low voice. He was looking at you in the mirror and you felt yourself blush again. Damn cheesy lines.

Luckily (or unluckily), you didn’t have time to respond because Noah rapped on the door and burst in. You took a huge step back but stumbled because of the heels as he said, “Drop what you’re doing.” Stiles caught your arm before you could fall as Noah continued, “I’m taking you both out to dinner. Whatever you want.” 

Stiles looked over at you for a second before saying, “Dad, I’m not sure a man of your debts should be treating anyone to anything. Plus, I don’t think our first date should be chaperoned.”

“Your first-” Noah blinked and looked at the two of you, realization slowly spreading across his face. “Oh. Well, uh, then forget about that but you can take my card for your, um, first date.” 

Stiles was already walking towards his dad and arguing, but Noah held out a letter and waited for him to read it. “What is that?” Stiles asked as he tore it open.

“A letter of apology from Eichen House,” Noah said. “Apparently, they’ve decided to forgive our debt due to, uh, well, you and Lydia almost getting murdered.” 

“I have never been so happy to have almost been murdered!” Stiles grinned after reading the letter. He tossed the letter to the side and pulled his dad into a hug.

“Well, we’re not out of it yet, but we’re going to be okay,” Noah said with a smile as he patted Stiles’ back. “So at least for the moment, I can treat my son and his girlfriend to a real, unchaperoned dinner, alright?” 

“Alright-” 

“No way,” you said. They both looked at you like they’d forgotten you were there. Walking carefully closer you continued, “There is no way that we’re celebrating this without you. Stiles and I can go for dinner next week, right, babe?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles said. “I can just cancel the reservation, I guess.” 

“Great, so where do you wanna go, Sheriff?” you asked with a smile on your face as you turned to Noah. 

“Oh, no, I’ve already messed with your night as it is. You can pick wherever you want to go,” Noah said, raising his hands up in surrender. 

“We could go to the diner,” you suggested. “Remember? The one you used to take us to when we were little. Stiles lost his tooth there and Scott got his head stuck in the-” 

“Those incidents were completely unrelated!” Stiles talked over you and you collapsed into a fit of laughter at how upset he got. “Man, that kid had big ears. When did he stop getting his head stuck in things?” 

“Around 12 maybe?”

“You guys remember that?” Noah laughed. He shook his head as you and Stiles launched into stories about getting milkshakes before the spring formal there and Scott having way too many minor accidents at the diner. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Aren’t you two a little overdressed for a diner?” Noah asked. “I don’t know, maybe you should kids should just-” 

“I’ve got a pair of Y/N’s sneakers right there that she could change into.” Stiles pointed to the huge pile of shoes next to his desk. “I can put on some jeans and a t-shirt and we’re good to go.” 

“You two are sure about this? You want an old man crashing your date?” Noah asked. 

You and Stiles looked at one another, hands interlacing and smiling. A family dinner sounded like what you needed. Your date could wait a few more days.

“Yeah, we’re sure,” you said. “But I can still drive? Because I almost never get to drive.”

---

The excitement of not having anyone trying to kill you didn’t last long. While you and Stiles were prepping for the big game, Scott and Kira went MIA. You knew it was their big date and all, but they weren’t answering calls or texts. Perfect timing, really, because it was the night before the full moon and you were playing against Davenport Prep. 

About halfway into the game, you and Stiles ditched to go find them. He wouldn’t let you say goodbye to Liam because he didn’t want him to have to worry about anything else, and Malia agreed to stay and keep an on him for you. She promised to call if Scott and Kira showed up. 

When you, Noah, and Stiles got to Derek’s loft you found it trashed. Lightbulbs were hanging all over the ceiling - some blown out, some broken, and very few actually working - and almost all of the furniture was broken. Braeden was picking up pieces as Derek assessed the damage. 

“Okay, what the hell happened here?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest. 

“It was supposed to be a date,” Derek said. 

“So they were both here?” Noah asked. 

“And now they’re both gone,” Braeden finished. 

Stiles’ phone vibrated and he dug it out of his pockets to answer the call. “Hey … Yeah, Scott and Kira. We just don’t know where … Mexico? Why the hell would they- okay, okay, I know that- Okay, goodb- Bye, Lydia!” He hung up in a huff and turned back to the group. 

“So they’re in Mexico? Like the same Mexico with werewolf hunters and berserkers?” you asked. 

“I think Scott’s got bigger problems than them,” Derek sighed. “Where the berserkers are, Kate is.” 

“Okay, I know this isn’t what any of you want to hear, but we can’t just rush into this,” Noah said. “Why don’t I take these two home and we regroup in the morning to come up with a plan?” 

“Because Scott’s been kidnapped by a psychotic were-jaguar! We don’t have time to sleep and regroup,” you snapped and started pacing. What did Kate want with your brother? She could have killed him a long time ago. She wanted him alive when you ‘killed’ him to draw out the benefactor. No, no she didn’t want him alive, she wanted his body.

“I’ll take her home,” Derek said from behind you. You stopped pacing to look at him. You didn’t know he still cared. 

“Thanks, but she actually has a curfew, so we’ll take her-” 

“Stiles, it’s okay,” you said with a small smile. “Derek can take me. We’ll regroup in the morning, okay?” 

Stiles looked at you like he was unsure again. He didn’t understand the relationship you had with Derek. He didn’t know why you could go from being ready to storm across the border one second to willing to wait until morning the next. But he trusted you. 

“Okay,” he said. “We’ll regroup in the morning.”

Part 29

[funknrolll]

Celebrating Lizzo, the epitome of self-love, self-acceptance and inclusivity: a lesson we all needed to learn

Melissa Viviane Jefferson better known as Lizzo has come a long way to get where she is right now. One of the most influential and renowned artists on the music scene. The pop star is standing out for her empowering lyrics, her meaningful message of self-love, self-acceptance, self-worth, and inclusivity.

The artist born in Detroit in 1988, soon fell in love with music. Indeed, as early as third grade she started forming girl groups and writing songs with her friends. Then at the age of 10, she moved to Houston, Texas, and joined her school’s marching band as the first flutist. At first, the artist self-taught how to play the flute, and then during high school, she learned the technique and eventually got private lessons. This was when her passion for the instrument started and it’s going on still today. In fact, it is not a mystery that the flute is still so much present in Lizzo’s music and live performances to the point that the artist named it after Beyonce’s alter ego, Sasha the Flute (the instrument has also an Instagram account @sashabefluting). The pop star kept studying music during her college years, attending the University of Houston. Eventually, she dropped out to move to Minneapolis where she joined the all-female R&B groups The Chalice and GRRRL PRTY. During those years she met the music legend himself Prince and became one of his protegès. Eventually, Lizzo and her Chalice bandmate Sophia Eris collaborated with the Purple One on the song Boy Trouble on his 2014 album Plectrumelectrum.

Now Lizzo appears to be one of the most confident and self-aware artists. However, all this confidence was not something that she achieved overnight. It took her time and effort to get where she is now. In fact, in her interview with CBS Sunday the artist recalls “I take self-love very seriously because when I was younger, I wanted to change everything about myself. I didn’t love who I was.” … “I was insecure about me… I was insecure about my body, I was insecure about my hair, my smile, I was insecure about my personality ‘cause I was so different I was so nerdy kinda dorky, I was insecure about the way I talked, I was insecure about my voice, everything”. Eventually, the artist managed to push through all her insecurities and became the powerful, confident artist we all know and love. However, this transition was not easy to achieve. Indeed, as the artist said in an interview for CBS Sunday Morning: “You can’t scrape away the trauma, that trauma can’t disappear, you just have to go back to that trauma and just try to make a sense out of it… I had to address every layer of insecurity… I body-shamed myself every single day” … “when I’m looking at my body and shaming every little thing about it I have to look at all those things that I’m shaming and I have to find love in those things”. Indeed, it is not a mystery that the artist has always spoken out about this relevant topic. As a matter of fact, her performances, her music, and even her Instagram page are a celebration of self-love. In fact, as the artist said during an interview for the magazine Essence: ”I love creating shapes with my body, and I love normalizing the dimples in my butt or the lumps in my thighs or my back fat or my stretch marks.“. 

Moreover, Lizzo had everyone’s eyes on her during her performance at the VMAs 2019. The pop star gave indeed, one of the most empowering performances backed up by an all-female and all-sizes dancing crew behind her. With that performance, the artist was delivering a message of self-acceptance, self-worth, and inclusivity, especially for the most marginalized groups of women in the USA. The next day the artist shared some thoughts on her performance on her Instagram page, pointing out that every woman on that stage had her story of why they did not believe they belonged in the spotlight. “Every woman on that stage had a story of either why they shouldn’t have been on that stage or why they didn’t believe they deserved to be on that stage, including myself. “Imposter syndrome” is a privilege to the most marginalized group in America. Not only were we taught to believe we didn’t belong in the spotlight, but when we finally get to a place to self-worth the world tries to knock us down. Not this time. The world smiled with us. The world sang us. The world saw our beauty last night. The world saw black women feeling Good As Hell and cheered us on.”.

Moreover, Lizzo has always taken her music very seriously. Her first solo album Lizzobangers dropped in 2013, followed by Big GRRRL Small World in 2015 and Coconut Oil, her Atlantic Records debut EP, in 2016. Coconut Oil even climbed onto the Billboard Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums chart. However, her latest album Cuz I love You brought her to fame. Not only are the sounds and the arrangements extremely original, but most importantly the message of self-love, self-acceptance, equality, feminism, positivity she is putting out through her music is so inspiring, motivating, and life-changing.

As a matter of fact, in songs like the hit Juice, the artist is encouraging her listener to “shine and live a better and happier life”. Additionally, in many other songs, the positive message is still much present. For instance, in Like a Girl the artist is encouraging her audiences to emancipate themselves, to fight for themselves, to be strong, and to be self-made. Exactly how I feel is characterized by a quite straightforward lyric and meaning: to stay true to ourselves and to be real. Indeed, quoting some lines “Love me or hate me/ I ain’t changing/ and I don’t give a fuck. Subsequently, Soulmate is practically a love letter the artist wrote to remind herself that to be loved and to change the world there is need to start loving herself first and that as the artist sings “figured out I gotta be my own type” and be aware of her self-worth. All the songs the artist has written are an emotional journey through her memories, life, and feelings. Indeed, as Lizzo said herself “My songs feel happy, but they come from a sad or frustrated place”… “My songs are always the silver lining or the ‘somewhere over the rainbow’ moments”. Songs such as Truth Hurts and Crybaby were indeed written and recorded through tears. As the artist recounters in the interview with the magazine Elle “Those songs are actual anecdotes, like real stories about real moments in time. ‘Pull this car over, babe’—that is something that happened to me. ‘New man on the Minnesota Vikings’—that happened to me. ‘Old me used to love a Gemini’—that happened!”.

The artist has also been extremely open about mental well-being on her Instagram account. Indeed, last June in one of her posts, she wrote: “I’m depressed and there’s no one I can talk to because there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Life hurts”. Then her fans showered her with comments thanking her for speaking out and for being completely open and honest about this delicate issue. The artist then shared some thoughts on this topic saying “You realize that people truly care about you and they’ll help you, and they don’t mind helping you”… “Being in those places is inevitable for me; I’m going to end up there again” then she adds “But the fact that I’m prepared now to go to those places—and I have a toolbox, and I know I can pull myself out—is really helpful to me in my mental health journey.”.

Also  during her live performances, the artist is delivering a powerful and empowering message to her audiences. Indeed, during one of her concerts in Glastonbury, she encouraged her fans to love themselves because “we can save the world if we save ourselves first… and we can all change the world”. In another concert, the artist explained the powerful purpose of her music and performances: “I do this because I love to make people smile, I love to make people feel better… I wanna make the world a better place”.

And this is not over, because, in February the artist entered the 62nd annual Grammy Awards with 8 well-deserved nominations. She opened the event with a powerful and poignant tribute to Kobe Bryant who passed away in a helicopter crash. The artist stepped on stage in a black sparkling ball gown and surrounded by a full orchestra she performed a mind-blowing, majestic medley starting with her latest album’s title track Cuz I Love You. The next song in line was Truth Hurts and Lizzo’s long time companion Sasha the Flute could not miss. What a dynamic duo!! The artist flexed some of her impressive flute skills before the last chorus.  Eventually, Lizzo won  (well deservedly I would say) three awards, including best pop solo performance for Truth Hurts, best urban contemporary album for Cuz I Love You (Deluxe) and best traditional R&B performance for Jerome. During the acceptance speech for pop solo performance, the singer honored one more time Kobe Bryant.  ”I want to say this whole week I was lost in my problems and then in an instant, all that can go away and your priorities really shift. Today all my little problems I thought were as big as the world was gone. I realized people are hurting right now,“ Lizzo said. Then she thanked the artists for ”making music that moves people again, that liberates people,“ "you guys create beautiful music. Thank you for lifting me up. Let’s continue to reach out, hold each other down, lift each other up”.

The artist was then honored with the Entertainer Of the Year at the 2020 NAACP Image Awards and she enchanted the audience with another heartwarming and powerful speech: “ I want to shout out to all the big black girls that I bring on stage with me. I do that because I want them to know that they are the trophies” … “Every last one of you, you are the award! We are so special!! We are such a beautiful people, this is just a reminder of all the beautiful things that we can do”.

During these months, Lizzo did not forget to spread good energy and positivity leading a group meditation to promote healing. The artist turned her Instagram into a meditation sanctuary where she encouraged her fans to find some peace and calm during the pandemic. The video featured Lizzo playing her flute while seating in front of a collection of crystals and burning sage. The artist then graced us with some uplifting words “I wanted to empower everybody, I wanted you guys to know that we have power, you have power. You have the power to eliminate fear.” … “I wanted to take the time today to do a mass meditation, 30 minutes of your time, and if you can’t stay the whole time that’s fine. But we’re gonna come together and we’re gonna take deep breaths and we’re gonna join in agreement and we’re going to try to eliminate the fear as much as we can” … “ We really need to listen to each other, we really need to feel each other out, we really need to be there to help each other, we can’t be afraid of each other”.

Speaking of the pandemic, we also saw Lizzo taking part in Lady Gaga’s One World: Together at home concert. The artist delivered a heartfelt, powerful, and personal rendition of Sam Cooke’s A Change is Gonna Come. She could not have chosen for a more appropriate song for the times we are living in the middle of the pandemic. After finishing the performance the artist enchanting us with some words of hope and love “Thank you to everyone working hard to keep us safe, thank you to everyone staying home and keeping themselves safe, I love you. We got this. We’ll get through this together. “

The cherry on the top of the pie, the singer keeps being a fierce queen supporting not only mental health but also advocating self-love and body positivity, encouraging her fans to practice self-care and love. Even today on her birthday, she asked us as a present, to write under her last Instagram picture some nice comments about ourselves and eventually she reminded us to “shake that ass”. A real queen and role model for everyone ❤️ wishing queen Lizzo a beautiful and happy birthday, I will go and practice some self love and shake my ass, just as she taught us!! All hail to the queen✨

Don’t forget to show Lizzo some love today✨

Thank you for your attention. G✨

[authoressskr]

Howlite and Hearts

Characters: f!Reader, Melanie (OFC), Tania (OFC), James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, James Rhodes

Warnings: Language and no Beta   ::   Word Count: 8,465

This was written for @moonbeambucky’s 5k Writing Challenge!! I went with a dragon!soulmate!au, which I hadn’t seen before, but I did have a nifty dream about it that spawned this whole idea. He’s still an Avenger. Events are basically still the same, just with dragons. ‘Cause who wouldn’t love a dragon companion??

Prompt: “You said you would come back for me.” Bolded in text below.

Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

Since men emerged from caves, began using tools and reshaping their environment, they have been intrigued by the draconian terrors of all shapes and sizes that roamed the world. The first records of man and dragon working together are from Mesopotamia, pieces of shattered pottery pieced back together showing a dragon standing beside a woman. Assyrian artifacts depict water dragons helping farmers in the field. Egyptian murals show dragons protecting the Pharaoh and his family, others showing different breeds of dragon fetching books from inside the Library of Alexandria.

History is dotted with famous dragons and their bonded humans; King Arthur and his steel-colored dragon, Excalibur. William Shakespeare and his dragon, Bard. Cleopatra and Bucephalus, named after Alexander the Great’s legendary steed. Abraham Lincoln and his dragon, Crusoe.

Over the centuries, dragons have become smaller from the giants painted in mythology, old texts and wall murals. The biggest dragon these days are about the size of a large crocodile, with the biggest recorded in the last decade almost as big as a hippo. Height varies on the type of dragon - with the tallest one balancing on its tail, hits almost eye level with a giraffe.

Classes have been taught for centuries about dragons and the bond between them with humans. Dragons will sometimes die right after their human counterpart and vice versa. Dragons who have lost their counterpart will sometimes live, seeking out their counterpart’s soulmate to stay with their draconian mates as well. It is not an uncommon thing - especially after times of war - for soulmates to have both dragons if one has died.

Dragon pairs will usually have the same colors and markings, even though they will often not be the same type of dragon. Dragons may look similar to the human eye, but a dragon will know it’s mate no matter what. It has not been determined how the dragons know their mate almost instantaneously, but after millennia humans have begun to follow the dragon counterpart’s knowledge in this area. Marriages of alliance and royalty have often been changed or dropped when one party finds its soulmate. In the same vein, marriages have also been arranged due to this circumstance as well. Cinderella is the most referenced fairy tale of this, with Cinderella having the same sapphire and gold colored dragon as the prince (*Dragon color varies by region and culture).

With the reemergence of Captain America and his dragon, it has helped scientists and theorists who now believe that the dragon and human bond is stronger than initially thought. Steve Rogers, known as Captain America, and his dragon Rak, were frozen for nearly 70 years and both proved to be in perfect health with an unbroken bond after thawing from the ice. Several theorists are pointing to a pieced together story found in Egypt about a man who was thought to be dead during a war, his dragon dying alongside - only for the pair to wander through the desert for nearly two years before arriving in Constantinople. The pair nearly died of dehydration several times but emerged with a stronger bond than before. The man claimed to the writer that it seemed as if after his trouble, he and his dragon experienced more than an emotional bond. It was as if they were linked in their minds and hearts. Whatever the case, it seems as if the bond between human and dragon is strong, it can always be strengthened. The only bond that is stronger - most noted and pointed out - is that of a matched pair with both dragon and human with their mates, protecting each other.

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You slide into the restaurant’s plush booth, smiling across the table at your best friend of nearly 13 years as you toss your purse further onto the bench.

“How was work?” You ask as you settle in, your dragon climbing from the inside of your jacket where she’d been resting earlier to drape her long body over your shoulders while your soulmate’s dragon settles his bulk over your feet under the table, his tail curling around your leg.

“Awesome. Matt finally asked me out.”

“Ooh! Congrats! When are you two supposed to go out?”

“Saturday!”

“Nice.” Your conversation pauses as the waitress appears, cheerfully asking for your drink order as a little yellow head pops out of her apron pocket.

“Iced tea and water, please.” You request, fingers coming up to scratch under Cloud’s chin.

“Gin and tonic, please. And water, as well. Thank you.” The waitress bounces off, high ponytail bouncing. Mel leaning a bit forward with a grin. “We could double date.” A deep growl sounds from under the table, making you chuckle.

“Godzilla says no.” Mel frowns at the table before shifting her brown eyes back to you. “He’s a good boy,” You coo before continuing. “He’s just keeping an eye on me until we’re reunited with my soulmate.”

“You gotta stop letting him do that. And you can’t reunite with someone you’ve never met.” Mel mutters as the waitress arrives with your drinks. You both thank her as she withdraws her pen from her apron, causing her little dragon’s yellow head to pop from the black apron pocket again.

“What can I get you ladies?”

“May I get the alfredo with chicken and mushrooms, please?”

“Side salad or soup?”

“Salad. Italian dressing please.”

“Of course! And you?”

“Shrimp carbonara. And a side salad for me as well. Ranch. Thanks.”

“I’ll get that out in a jiff!”

“Semantics. He and I will finally meet. Godzilla will be reunited.” Stroking his lifted head under the table a few times before he settles back into place again.

“Did your time off get approved?” Mel switches the subject before taking a hearty sip of her gin and tonic, both of you thanking the waitress as she sets your salads down before bouncing off again with a big smile. Melanie’s long serpentine jade dragon slithers from her purse, using a little flap of its peacock-colored wings to get it to the tabletop and chirps until Melanie surrenders all her croutons to him. “Bread thief.” She mutters as it chomps happily away.

“Yep!” You mutter cheerfully around a mouthful of greens. “Two freakin’ weeks! Soooo happy and ready for this road trip.”

“Model employee, you are.”

“Thank you for that high praise, Yoda.”

“When I finish this salad, I’ll dig out my proposed itinerary outline for the trip. I’m already so excited! Five days and we’ll be on vacation!” She does a happy little wiggle, Linus mimicking her with his little jade body. You both giggle at his antics.

“Did Tania get off? I text her on Monday and she said it was ‘Pending’ in the system.”

“Yeah, she texted me yesterday morning to say she got it off. But her brother’s wedding is on Saturday. In Dallas. So she’ll fly out late Sunday afternoon so we can all start out from San Fran on Monday.”

“Keep her hydrated Sunday night. Got it.” Your bouncy waitress reappears to whisk the salad plates away, promising the food will be out in just a few minutes. Godzilla’s heavy tail thumps against your leg and the booth, making you grin at your chunky boy. “Is Chinatown on your itinerary?”

“I keep forgetting you’ve never been there before…” She digs her little notebook from her purse and hands it across the table to you. “I’ll add it to the couple of days when we come back.” Cloud nudges at your jaw as you read through the daily logs.

“I like it. Taking our time everywhere. Plenty of adventure and time out for the fluffernuggets.”

“You call them by the weirdest names...” Mel mutters with a big smile as the food arrives, thanking the waitress before you take a long drink of your tea.

“They love them.” You take a couple pieces of chicken and pass it under the table, Godzilla happily chomping as you pass a piece to Cloud. “And jealousy is an ugly thing, Mel.” She passes a piece of shrimp to Linus, his little fingers on his wingtips holding onto the shrimp to tear it two.

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“So, what are you gonna wear on -” An older couple walks by, the woman tutting as she sees Godzilla’s tail under the table. You can see her counting and mentally steel yourself.

“Three.” She mutters loudly to her husband, who gives a solemn nod and steers her away. You feel a hand on top of yours, a gentle squeeze making you turn your attention back to your food.

“She’s just an old hag who doesn’t know anything.” You nod.

“She just really brought down my happy mood.”

“Then we’ll a couple drinks and go to that bookstore you like.”

“You always know the right thing to say to me.” She snorts, making you grin at your oldest friend.

“I should fucking hope so by now, honey.”

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Bucky and Sam sit on the patio closest to the hanger, playing poker when Steve comes around the corner, tapping on his phone.

“How’s it going today guys? Missed our morning run.” He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk.

“We stayed up drinking loooong after you left last night.” Sam chuckles out, throwing a card down and picking up another.

“Alcohol doesn’t affect Bucky.”

“I slept in and didn’t drag my ass out of bed that early in solidarity.” Steve snorts but nods.

“Yeah. Okay, pal. Keep lyin’ to yourself.”

“I can and I will,” Bucky replies, using his vibranium hand to scratch the scruff on his jaw with a lazy grin plastered on his face.

“Hey, guys! Uh, I mean Mr. Rogers, sir. And Mr. Barnes. And, um, Mr. Wilson.”

“You don’t have to -” Steve starts, shaking his head at Peter’s formality.

“Nah, I think I like being addressed as Mr. Barnes.”

“Just stick to first names, kid.” Sam orders, tossing down another card and making a face at Bucky.

“Right. I can do that. Mr. Stark asked me to come and get you,” Steve pushes off the wall. “Mr. Barnes. Uh, Bucky, sir.”

“Okay.” Bucky grins before laying his cards on the table. “I win. You’re cookin’ me breakfast for the rest of the week.”

“Damnit.” Sam curses as he tosses his cards onto the table.

“See you all in a bit. Lead the way, kid.” Peter leads Bucky down to the lab he built for Bruce, the two farthest walls projecting documents and a few pictures of the West Coast of the United States. Bucky carefully scans the walls as Peter eagerly announces Bucky’s arrival.

“Ah, Barnes. Just the man I sent the kid for.” Tony comes around a table and points to the documents on the left wall. “What do you see?”

“Intel on a Hydra base by the Washington/Canada border. You think it’s active?”

“I wouldn’t have. Except for this morning, the power kicked on there.” Bruce comes into the room behind Bucky, pointing to the map as Tony zooms in on the border.

“We only know this because Fury cleared that particular base after he became director. He set up sensors to alert S.H.I.E.L.D. to any unwanted visitors.”

“And I hijacked all their sensors, systems and alerts,” Tony add smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So you want me to go scout it?”

“No, I’ve sent a suit to go do some recon. I want to know everything you know about this base… Anything they might’ve had there. Any reasons you can think of to why they’d attempt a reactivation there.” Bucky gives a little sigh before he walks up to the wall, flipping through each piece of intelligence information, racking his mind for any and all information he possessed on that base.

“Smuggling arms from Russia would be my best first guess...my second would be the terrible answer of human trafficking.” He then begins to explain the ins and out of the base, what he remembers being at the base and some of the areas they used for experimentation there.

“Jeez.” Bruce exhales loudly before rubbing a hand over his face, his dragon lifting its head from the chair in the corner, looking quizzically from Bruce to Bucky. Tony taps his fingers on the tabletop across from Bruce, thinking.

“Okay. We’ll wait for the suit to report back before alerting the rest of the team.” Bucky nods, casting an envious glance towards Bruce’s now sleeping dragon. The quick look makes Tony’s stance soften a little, something unnoticed by Bucky as he turns to leave. “Wait.” Bucky turns himself back around. “I’ve been scanning for a dragon that matches your descriptions and archival photos.” Tony has a ghost of a smile dancing in his eyes as he drops this bomb on him.

“That’s why you don’t have a dragon?” Peter pipes up from the other side of Bruce.

“Mine didn’t go into the ice with me like Steve’s. He probably ran away from the base when I fell from the train...I don’t think Howl has survived to now.”

“And you couldn’t have survived a fall from a train. Steve couldn’t have survived the ice-cold grip of the Arctic.” He leans his butt against the table he’d just been tapping on, arms crossed over his chest with a smile. “Yet here we are, Barnes.”

Bucky clenches and unclenches his jaw, fear curling in his gut at the question he’s about to ask.

“Did you find anything?”

“Got two hits so far.” Bucky’s heart stutters in his chest. “One in Scotland, the other in California.” Tony gives a sly smile as Bucky gives a firm nod, turning to leave with his human hand clenched tight.

“Hydra first.” He manages to grit out before opening the door, ready to escape to the woods just outside the base to get his thoughts straightened out.

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“Portland here we come!” Tania yells as you start the rental car, making you laugh as you pull onto the road, heading to the freeway entrance.

“I can’t believe it’s been two months since all three of us have been together!” You say excitedly as you merge onto the freeway - officially starting your road trip to Portland.

“Two months too long!” Mel yells from the second row.

“So, Tania, you gotta fill us in on your brother’s wedding!”

“Ugh. Ultra small. They just had her immediate family and our immediate family plus, like, his two idiot best friends and her best friend.” She pauses, shoving a handful of thick black curls away from her lovely face. “Beautiful though.” She sighs out with a small smile on her face. “Almost exactly the colors I’d like to do for my wedding one day; light blue and black, with silver accents. Dinner was delicious! Whew! Glad I wasn’t interested in getting laid, cause all that food was too good to pass up.” Mel nearly snorts behind you as Tania continues. “A nice long dinner, some light dancing and a few rounds of shots between siblings and friends. Then I got to tuck myself into a plush hotel room, watch ‘The Wedding Date’ and nod off to sleep.”

“I think that’s the least stressful wedding you’ve ever told us about.” You remark with a quick look at Tania.

“That’s cause this is my oldest brother. Typical big bro. Looking out for everyone else. Dated Katherine for like 3 years before he popped the question. He thinks everything through. Unlike my younger brothers. Those two are idiots.”

“Hot idiots.” Mel pipes up from the back as you and Tania make faces.

“Nope. Nope. Nope.” Tania says seriously before half turning in her seat. “So, how did your date with Matt go?”

“All he wanted to talk about was work and who I thought was going to get the new promotion...How he was waiting for his soulmate after three bad relationships. Total bust.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Need me to find a coffee shop before we officially head out of town?”

“Nah, she ordered a dessert to go at her busted dinner and I’ve bought her like four cups of coffee since yesterday.” You interject, watching Mel’s face break out in a big smile in the rearview mirror. Tania’s dragon slips from the folded down third row up to the front, crawling into her lap and sticking its head out the window, the soft black hair on its head and back twisting and turning in the breeze.

“Our first stop?” Tania asks Mel, stroking a hand over Falkor’s black wispy hair.

“Wherever you want it to be.” Mel grins out, brown eyes meeting yours in the rearview.

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It was about two hours down the line before Linus began chirping and growling, so you pulled over at a roadside area and let all the dragons out to go the bathroom and explore. You stake out a nice shaded bench to watch the four dragons play with a pair of Golden Retrievers. Dragons tended to love cats and dogs, and this was also a good chance for them to get out some of that pent up energy.

Tania demands a few selfies set against the coastline views and you suggest one with the dragons rolling around with the dogs, making you all laugh. After nearly fifteen minutes, you wander over to the middle-aged couple with the dogs, introducing yourself and thanking them for letting their dogs wear out your dragons. A few pleasantries and a loud goodbye, followed by some pets for Thelma and Louise, you herd the dragons up the hill to the bench for some water and a few snacks.

“That was a workout for everyone.” Mel chuckles, patting your back as you all head back to the SUV.

“Laugh it up. Next time wrangling is up to you, Melanie.” She just laughs as you climb back into the driver seat.

“Next stop, Fort Bragg.” Mel pipes up, holding her cell phone up for Tania to see.

Luckily, it only takes another two hours to get to Fort Bragg and the Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens, where Mel had mapped out your first official stop on the road trip.

After admission and grabbing some lunch at Rhody’s Garden Cafe, getting a bowl of clam chowder in a bread bowl and two lamb gyros for Godzilla and Cloud. You give Godzilla a whole one and carefully cut the other into thirds. You give a third to Cloud, putting a travel dish of water between the two before digging into your lunch. Tania joins you next, Falkor perched on her shoulder and eyeballing the two smoked tempeh gyros on her tray with glee. Mel is the last to join with a bowl of tomato basil bisque, a side salad and a lamb gyro for Linus. You discuss the flora and fauna already surrounding you, the faint scent of the ocean blowing through a few times while you all enjoyed lunch.

Forty-five minutes later you’re looking out over the Pacific Ocean, eyes closed at the serenity of it all; Godzilla pressed against your left leg while Cloud is curled around your neck. You knew your soulmate couldn’t feel the contentedness you felt, but you hoped he could.

That was the same thought you had as you laid curled up in the king-sized bed later that night with Mel hogging the covers on the other side.

I hope wherever you are, you’re safe and know that we miss you and want to meet you, soulmate.

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“Suit came back negative.” Tony points to the screen running the video in the Debriefing Room. “No human traces. Followed the electrical lines back to the main breakers and … nada.”

“Nothing at all? Then who turned the power back on?”

“Still don’t know. There were no fingerprints on the breaker boxes or on the doors to and from that area. The only sign anyone had been there at all was in the semi-buried loading dock to the west of the actual facility’s blueprints.”

“So what’s the plan?” Wanda asks, looking from the footage to Tony.

“I think we should all go there. Clean out whatever S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t and then inspect that buried loading dock.”

“All of us?” Rhodey repeats, leaning back in his seat, trying to ignore Peter’s too excited looking eyes.

“Well, most of us. Leave the broken ribs twins here and Banner, of course. Vision and Rhodey will cover the outside, Steve and Wanda will go to the secret loading dock while Bucky and Sam locate wherever the loading dock’s exit should have been. I’ll recheck the systems, download all the information - if S.H.I.E.L.D left any on the servers - and I’ll call in Rhodey to do the heavy lifting, if need be, of machinery or files we locate.”

“When do we leave?”

“First thing in the morning. Better light for the Tin Man and Birdboy to search in.”

“So considerate,” Sam mutters loudly, rolling his eyes as he looks at Steve.

“Rest up team.” Steve dismisses everyone, Bucky still sitting in his chair, staring at the screen without really seeing it. Steve’s brow furrows, leaning forward in his own chair. “You okay, Buck?”

“Tony tell you he thinks he might’ve found my dragon?” Steve’s jaw drops open. “Guess not.” His entire face changes, his blue eyes lighting up and a smile growing.

“That’s great!” When Bucky doesn’t react except a nod, Steve’s dragon flits from his perch on the back of his chair to land before Bucky, letting a high pitched squeal out until Bucky offers him his hand. The ruby-colored wyvern scampers up his arm until it is able to nuzzle under his jaw.

“Thanks, Rak.”

“Don’t get too excited, Buck.” Steve snarks out, pursing his lips before leaning back in his chair.

“It’s just a lot to deal with. I thought he was dead...I thought I would just be alone, ya know?”

“You don’t gotta be alone now though. You’ll get Howl back.”

“Tony said a woman had him.”

“Your soulmate.” Steve’s breath out so reverently it sent shivers down Bucky’s back. Bucky rubs a hand tiredly over his face.

“I guess.”

“But you hope not.” He clenches his jaw before shaking his head at his best friend. “Jesus, Bucky.”

“I know, Steve. You act like I don’t fucking know.” Rak tugs sharply at a piece of Bucky’s hair at the tense air between the two men, hissing loudly when he drops his hair. Bucky turns to glare at the dragon. “Listen here, pipsqueak, I don’t need it from you too.” Rak blows a little puff of smoke at Bucky before launching off his shoulder to flit out of the room. “Stevie...it’s just a lot. All of a sudden. I mean, damn, there is no easing into it either. Tony just fucking laid it on me this afternoon and -”

“It’s all you can think of now. I get it - trust me Buck - but I wish I was in your shoes.”

“Still different shoes, Steve.”

“Shuri worked with you. You got a good therapist now. Don’t have as many nightmares or sleepless nights...I don’t see why you think you wouldn’t or don’t deserve a soulmate. You’re one of the best people I know, Bucky. Then and now.”

Bucky just sighs again, dropping his head into his hands and tugging on the long strands with frustration.

“It’s not that I’m not excited.” He begins softly. “It’s just that the cons right now outweigh the pros.”

“How exactly?”

“I am a formerly wanted Hydra assassin.”

“They cleared you of all charges against the Vienna bombing. They cleared you for helping me and the guys against Tony. But go on, drama queen.” Bucky raises his head and rolls his eyes at Steve.

“And it’s go off, Steve. I’m over a hundred fucking years old.”

“So am I. We look like we are in our thirties. Maybe she likes older men.” Bucky scoffs at his best friend’s smile.

“I haven’t seen Howl in seventy plus years.”

“Rak and I were in the ice for nearly that long. The bond doesn’t lessen by circumstances or distance. You two are a pair.”

“Alright, we both know someone else came up with that.”

“Coulson,” Steve admits with a rueful smile. “Words are still true.” Bucky rubs his hand over his face again with a sigh.

“Yeah. Yeah. Well, I guess we’ll find out after this mission.”

“I guess we will, pal. And apologize to Rak. He didn’t do anything to you, you bully.” Bucky and Steve both push themselves up from their chairs, making their way from the room.

“I’ll give him some pepperjack. You know he loves his cheese.”

“No more cheese! You aren’t the one who has to sleep with the little gas ball.”

“RAK!! CHEESE!” Bucky yells as he takes off for the kitchen, the little ruby dragon running to catch up at top speed behind the supersoldier as Steve shakes his head.

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You were all up just before sunrise, walking down the abandoned Glass Beach. Tania had been up the night before, googling things to do in Trinidad when she’d stumbled upon an article about the sea glass remains in Fort Bragg. And honestly? What’s better than an empty beach in the morning with your best friends and your dragons happily bringing you seashells, pieces of driftwood and harassing seagulls? Not much.

After an hour or so on the beach, you all make the quick trek back towards town for a large breakfast, where Godzilla swallowed a whole plate of eggs and sausage before looking up at you with big sapphire eyes. You’d given in - you nearly always do - and given him a piece of your toast and Mel had given him one of her pancakes.

“Chunker.” You mutter around a sausage link, giving the other half to Cloud as Godzilla amps up the begging eyes. You don’t give in this time. But Tania does - giving him the last bit of her omelet.

Forty-five minutes later, you’re all headed towards Trinidad. It’s an almost three-hour drive, beautiful and hugged quite close to the coastline. The windows are down and the music is up, with the sea air swirling around the cab.

You arrive, everyone tying on their tennis shoes to trek out to look at the enormous redwood trees that California is known for. You snap a few pictures as Godzilla attempts to follow Cloud and Linus up a Redwood, but his little glider wings aren’t as helpful as they should be. He turns those big blue eyes up at you, with Falkor perched on his back, both looking so sad.

“Oh, Lord.” You mutter as you bend over, “Okay, you gotta help.” His head bobs eagerly before you heft Zilla up, letting his claws lightly dig into the tree to help claw Falkor and himself up. Once he gets above your head, he manages another twenty feet or so before launching off the tree and gliding back down to the forest floor. His little teeth are barely seen in what you have come to learn is his smug smile. “Yes, you did amazing. Glad to be of help.”

You refuse to help him up a bigger tree, so he begins climbing every fallen one you all come across until Mel taps out about a half hour later. You all get back to the SUV, then find a place for lunch before continuing on into Oregon. A quick stop at the state line for a photo op and letting the dragons wander around for about fifteen minutes, Tania gives a sharp whistle to round them up so you can continue on your way.

You get just past Selma when a huge rainstorm blows in. It takes an hour and a half extra to get to the next town of Wilderville. Then have to go another 9 miles to get to the nearest hotel. Mel ran out to get some late lunch/early dinner since the rain wasn’t letting up at all.

An old Godzilla movie is on, Zilla swinging his tail excitedly when he hears Godzilla’s roar through the tv, imitating him happily in his deeper tones.

“That’s why you call him that?” You shrug at Tania’s question, chuckling at all the dragons watch Godzilla battle King Ghidorah enraptured.

“My mom just always called him that. She said cause they both got cankles.”

“They do!” She squeals, withdrawing her pajamas from her luggage. A drenched Mel struggles in a handful of minutes later. She stopped at the little grocery store, getting a small pack of tea bags, some honey, and a little tray of sausages and cold cuts for the scalies. Fried chicken and some salad for you three as you look up how long the storm should last and if there are any road delays ahead.

“So, after tonight do we go to Cannon Beach or Astoria? We all know which I prefer.”

“Yeah, Y/N we know you’d rather go to Astoria.”

“HEY, YOU GUYS!” You shout happily in reply.

“Well, I think Astoria would be good too. There are trails - providing it’s not too wet after this storm - plus museums, cute little shops downtown, antique stores, Lewis and Clark National Historic Park and a waterfall. That’s not including the Goonie house, which we’ll go see for Y/N.”

“Okay, so if it’s mostly clear by like, I don’t know, 5 am then I say we head out for Astoria then. My only thing is that we are kind of off the path Mel first planned. Do we head to Bandon then up to Astoria? Cause it says,” You withdraw your copy of her itinerary. “That it’s about 5 hours from Bandon to Astoria. And right now, it’s almost 3 hours to get back on Highway 1. We could do 8 hours, provided we stop enough to stretch our legs and let out the fluffernuggets.”

“I say we do the 3 hours to get us back to Bandon. Then the next day we’ll head to Astoria. When we are done in Astoria, we’ll head to Portland to grab a hotel for the night and explore it the next day. We aren’t in a rush.”

“That’s right,” As you nod in agreement with Tania, Mel continues. “This is only day two.”

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“Found anything?” Sam’s voice comes in through his earpiece, giving a little grunt as he shoved a part of a fallen tree out of his way.

“Looks like the exit. Covered in moss, leaves and a few fallen tree trunks that must have rolled partially down here. I’m about a click away from where we started.”

“Finally! Two damn days of looking...all this green blurring together. I’ll be there in a few seconds to help.” Bucky tears at the moss and vines around another trunk as he grunts out an “Okay” over the comm before Steve’s voice replaces Sam’s.

“Rhodey, Tony, Wanda and Vision are inside now, so I’m coming out to help you and Sam.”

“Gotcha,” Bucky replies, straightening up with a groan. “I got two trunks out of the way, but the last one is massive...I think the wall is behind it, and we should be able to follow the wall to the collapsed exit.”

“Roger that, Tin Man,” Tony confirms. “The last of the debris is nearly clear on this side. Wanda waved most of it away after we did the heavy lifting.”

“Right. Yes, that was exactly what happened...” Wanda’s voice is heavy on the sarcasm, making Bucky grin.

It’s nearly an hour later that Bucky and Steve manage to dislodge the trunk enough to comfortably get behind it to search the moss-riddled wall. Sam has Redwing searching along what they think is the wall, while Rak and Blackbird - Sam’s onyx little dragon - scramble along the base of the wall.

“Anything yet, Stark?” Bucky settles himself on the large log, fingers sliding into his damp locks and tying them back while they wait for Tony’s reply.

“Well, I haven’t found a secret door yet…”

“What Tony means is: yes Steve - we’ve found a mangled wall panel. Looks like it was smashed.” Bucky snorts at Wanda’s continued sass.

“I am working to fix the panel. Tony has gone back to divert the power to this end of the base.” Vision’s voice fills the comms just before they all hear a loud crack.

A rumble from the stone looking metal door shakes the ground around them as it attempts to roll itself up. By the time Tony makes it back to the dock, the door has managed to heft itself halfway up. Bucky eyes the door warily. He’s seen Indiana Jones...

“I hope we didn’t just do all the hard work for the bad guys,” Sam mutters as Rhodey, Vision, Wanda and Tony all join them carefully on the forest side of the door.

“We should blow it up,” Bucky remarks, Rak crawling up his pants and tact vest to settle on his shoulder. “That way we’re sure. The base is empty - all that’s left in there is old medical equipment I wouldn’t let anyone use, some desks and some chairs. We blow it up and then we just set up surveillance around the base and around Portland.”

Rhodey huffs out a breath in tandem with his dark emerald dragon, looking from Tony to Steve.

“I agree with Bucky, man. We get rid of the base then we get rid of the lure of any fractured HYDRA factions. Then we head to Portland for some delicious food at Proud Mary Cafe.”

Tony gestures at Rhodey, “Is that the place with the crab omelet?”

“Yep.” Bucky’s mouth waters a little at the mention of an omelet, only have a couple power bars since they’d started this morning. Portland sounds delicious at this point.

“Damn, that was almost decadent. Okay, I’m sold on Portland.” Steve rolls his eyes, making Tony smirk as his crimson and amber dragon clamors up his armor.

“We have gotten all files that were left behind. As well as documenting the whole base. We have no need for it if we are not going to occupy it.” Vision redirects the conversation back to the base. “And surveillance along the way, from here to Portland, would be excellent to execute for further knowledge on any HYDRA or other evil entities in the area. As Bucky and Rhodey have stated.” Bucky nods as he pulls a little leftover piece of jerky from his vest to give to Rak, who lets out a happy trill before Wanda reaches over to scratch the top of his head.

“Alright - you heard the Tin Men! Let’s blow her up.” He gestures back towards the half-open door. “Rhodey?”

“Tones, man, I’m gonna buy you a whole tableful of those omelets.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Jesus. Are we like that?” Bucky mutters to Steve, smiling as Rhodey selects his weapon.

“Worse,” Sam mutters from Bucky’s left, making Steve and himself chuckle before they all head back up the hill in an effort to avoid most of the dust and debris.

“Jealousy is an ugly thing, Sam!” Bucky calls out as Sam and Wanda rise into the air, both of them sporting big grins before Rhodey launches into his destruction of the base.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“I’ve never had such pretty looking pizza!” Tania exclaims as it’s laid on the table, Godzilla’s tail thumping excitedly against your leg under the booth.

“Edible flowers and mushrooms? Ick.” Mel makes a face before picking up a piece of her fennel sausage pizza before picking up her fork and spearing a piece of the pansotti pasta to give to Linus.

“Well, we can have breakfast wherever you want.” You placate before handing a slice under the table before picking up a piece for yourself. You only got two bites in before Cloud drags it from your hand to devour it by your wine glass. “Apparently I am too slow for you, scaly.” Taking a healthy sip of your wine, you look across the table at Tania. “I saw a flag when we were walking earlier for the Portland Japanese Garden. We should check that out. The dragons like it when they can roam. Looks serene too.”

“As long as I don’t gotta hike, I’m golden with whatever,” Melanie mutters around another piece before handing one under the table for Zilla.

“If we do the Lan Su Chinese Garden, it has a teahouse!”

“Ooh, that sounds nifty Tania!”

“There’s also Powell’s City of Books. An entire city block worth of books.” Mel smiles over the rim of her glass at you. “And a hell of a coffee shop inside too.” Tania laughs, jiggling Falkor who is balanced on her shoulder, nibbling at her slice of pizza.

“If Y/N went in there, she might not come back out!”

“You say that like that’s a bad thing!” You defend, taking the last slice of your shared pizza with a playful glare at Tania.

“Think of all the money you’d spend.” Mel joins in.

“But then I’d have books…” You mutter around your mouthful.

“Your tiny little apartment can’t handle any more books.”

“That’s true,” You concede with a little sigh. “But that doesn’t mean if we have spare time, we can’t go and look!”

“Knew that was coming! Knew it!” Mel cackles, Linus giving her a judgemental look from his perch on the pasta plate as her hand slapped a few times on the table beside him.

“Well, I should fucking hope so by now.” You add smugly, taking a sip of your wine as Tania pulls out her phone.

“Okay. So what place do you want to do for breakfast, Mel?”

“I set up a reservation for breakfast for tomorrow at Proud Mary Cafe. One of the guys at my work, Tomas, says it’s the most delicious place to eat. So I set it up the day we left San Francisco since he mentioned it usually has a waitlist.”

“Holy crap,” Tania says softly as she peers down at her phone. “This food sounds decadent!”

“Read us a bit.” You request as you settle a little more comfortably into your seat.

“Savory french toast: Buttery portabella mushroom, smoked ricotta, chipotle charred greens, paprika crumb, croissant brioche, poached egg.”

“Whew. That sounds amazing!”

“Crab omelet: Singapore chili crab omelet, spicy noodles, bean sprout, and Asian herb salad, crispy onions.” She continues, licking her lips. “God I love crab.” With a shake of your head she looks up, “This is one I know you’ll want. Dutch honey hotcake: Vanilla and ricotta hotcake, mandarin segments, caramel, baked cheesecake, dutch cookie, honeycomb.”

“That’s a fancy pancake right there,” You say, handing Cloud the last piece of pansotti before reaching across to Melanie’s last slice, tearing it into thirds for Linus, Falkor, and Godzilla.

“Maybe pavlova? It’s a classic Australian pavlova with matcha, baked rhubarb, rhubarb syrup, and, ooooh, a custard cream. Damn. We should just order one of everything. It all sounds wonderful.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that!” Mel giggles out as the waitress comes over to ask about any ice cream desserts. “No thanks, we probably need to walk off what we just ate!”

“So,” Tania begins as the waitress goes to get the check. “We gonna walk for a bit then grab an ice cream cone while we’re out?”

“I wouldn’t say no to that!” You chuckle at Mel’s words, sliding the waitress your debit card when she returns.

“Or coffee.” You add.

“Or coffee. Man, I love me some coffee.” Mel replies with a grin, all of you standing after you sign the receipt, leaving a hefty tip for the waitress who had added some sausage on the side of the pasta for the scalies. “Let’s go find a coffee and ice cream place...then a park for the dragons.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Tania agrees, tucking Falkor into her oversized handbag as they exit the eatery, all of them taking a deep breath and headed down the street.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

When they checked into The Benson last night, Bucky was exhausted. Exhausted but hungry. The food nearby was outstanding, though both Rhodey and Tony both kept saying it wouldn’t be as amazing as breakfast. Sam had rolled his eyes, remarking that everything tastes “amazing” to Steve and Bucky who had grown up with boiled cabbage and then hadn’t eaten for nearly seventy something years.

“One thing they don’t need to be - food critics,” Sam had finished as they’d stepped out into the evening air.

“I had plenty of good food back in the day when I was in Italy and France, thank you very much Mr. Won’t Pass Up A Big Mac.” Bucky sasses back, shoving his metal hand into his pocket. He takes about four steps when he felt a tingle up his spine. His head moves subtly from left to right, scanning the people around.

“Buck?” Steve’s voice is soft, straightening up when he sees Bucky’s posture change. All of them are on alert now, but none sure what they’re looking for.

“Just had a feelin’...”

“Like a ‘we’re about to get sniped’ feeling or more like ‘deja vu’ feeling?” Rhodey queries as he watches a group of men cross the street.

“Like something important is gonna happen feelin’.”

“I think he means an innocent feeling or an about to be ambushed one, Sgt. Barnes.” Vision adds, his eyes moving from the building behind them to Bucky. Bucky sees a flash on white, low to the ground up the street a little, but it’s lost in the foot traffic soon after he spots it.

“Nothing malicious. Just an odd, but nice feelin’.”

“Next time, lead with that.” Tony claps him on the shoulder before moving in the opposite direction, talking about a steakhouse with the most flavorful clam chowder he’s ever had. Wanda pats his arm before trailing after Tony and Vision, a small smile gracing her face.

When they’re seated and drinks have been ordered, Bucky still can’t shake the feeling. The light conversation is interrupted by Tony’s phone.

“Uh huh. Yep. Oh really? Did you activate the satellite feed? Uh huh. Bout an hour or so, I would venture to guess. Okay. Yep. Let me know. Thanks, Bruce.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at Tony, who is eyeing Bucky with interest.

“Did you tell them?”

“I told Steve.”

“Well then, I’ll catch everyone else up.” Bucky manages a nod just before Tony begins. “After getting first-hand descriptions, photos, plus information from both HYDRA and SHIELD - I began looking for Bucky’s dragon. I started from the base where Howl disappeared then branched out from there. And then one day it hit me -”

“Here we go…” Sam chuckles out, bracing his elbows on the table as a waiter appears with their drinks.

“Where would a dragon who has seemingly lost its human partner go?” Tony pauses dramatically, taking a healthy sip of his whiskey. “To find it’s soulmate.”

“So you’re saying you found not only his dragon but his soulmate?” Rhodey takes a good swig of his beer. “Damn.”

“I’ve narrowed it down to two women, just from satellite footage, you understand. One in Scotland, one in California. I asked Bruce to keep an eye on them while we were gone. Apparently, our California candidate has disappeared. Nowhere in the state.”

“You think something happened to her?” Wanda questions, looking from Tony to Bucky, who has his jaw clenched harder than is probably healthy.

“Nothing bad.” He takes another drink. “I don’t think. Bruce is readjusting the feed to get her last location and that should take about an hour. So, by the time we finish our dinner, we’ll have an answer.”

“Excellent.” Vision smiles encouragingly at Bucky, who gives a tight-lipped smile back as a mouthwatering steak is set before him. Suddenly his hunger isn’t as all-consuming as it was before...

God, Doll, I hope you’re safe wherever you may be...I don’t know if I can take it if you aren’t…

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There are quite a few people lingering outside the establishment and a few shopfronts down, settled on benches and scrolling through phones while they wait. It’s cooler than you had expected, the storm you’d encountered earlier in the week still lingering. In a few days it’ll be warmer, something the dragons will appreciate but you will not.

Proud Mary Cafe opens at 7am, but the dragons and Mel had other ideas, and you’d all gotten up right before 6. Mel and Tania had showered the night before, so you hopped in only to be interrupted by Godzilla howling for you through the door. You had to hop out to crack the door open so he could reach you, resulting in the hot water to peter out to lukewarm water in those two minutes. Tania had insisted on doing your hair, like she had many a time in college, letting you slap on some sunblock and then minimal makeup while she twisted and coerced your hair how she wanted. Herding the dragons downstairs and over to the park for some pre-breakfast walkies had woken you up better than the two cups of coffee Mel had already downed.

You’re about to enter the cafe when Godzilla shoots off down the street, you and Cloud both calling out after him. You shove your purse at Tania before tearing off after him, silently cursing his damn monitor-like body as his short but powerful legs carry him away. When you see him, he’s at the end of the block sitting on some poor man’s chest.

“I’m so, So, SO sorry!! He never does this!!” You wrap your hands around his thick black collar, attempting to tug the two hundred plus pound dragon off the man. “Bad Zilla!! Bad!! Off the nice man!!”

“Zilla? As in Godzilla?” You huff, still tugging, finally looking at the man standing beside you. Holy shit it’s Iron Man.

“Off.” The man grunts from under Godzilla, who happily obliges, his thick marble-looking tail wiggling so hard his entire body is moving along with it.

“Holy shit. You tackled an Avenger. Apologize!” You hiss at your wayward dragon, Captain Rogers helping the man up. And holy shit are you glad you said that while you could because of the specimen before you is drop dead gorgeous. Dark hair that’s hanging just past his shoulders with the most intense blue eyes you think you’ve ever encountered. He’s a good head taller than you with just enough scruff covering his cheeks to look almost sinful with his pink lips. Cloud’s sharp nails dig into your shoulder, kicking your mind back towards the fact that Godzilla just tackled the unsuspecting Avenger. “I’m very sorry, Sergeant Barnes. Godzilla has never done that before. He’s been acting off since last night. Must be all the time in the car for the last few days. I really am very sorry.”

“Told you it was a vacation - you owe me fifty bucks.”

“Shut up Tony.” Captain Rogers glares at the billionaire before smiling at you. You turn your attention back to Mr. Barnes.

“No need to apologize. I’m sure he just sensed me last night - like I sensed him.” The dots all suddenly align in your head, releasing your fingers from Godzilla’s collar.

“Oh.” You breathe out, tears coming to your eyes as you look down. “Why didn’t you say something?” He huffs, his tail wiggling dying down before snorting angrily at the super soldier’s boots.

“It’s gonna be that way, Howlite, pal?” Sgt Barnes kneels before the dragon, holding out his flesh hand.

“You said you would come back for me.” You say, causing those intense blue eyes to find yours, while you give him a small sad smile before letting your gaze drop to Zilla - Howlite. He swallows hard then nods, smiling at his dragon.

“I did promise you I’d be right back, didn’t I buddy?” Godzilla eased a little closer, Cloud switching shoulders so she can be closer to her mate, glaring at the former Winter Soldier. “And I meant to...I didn’t mean to...for things to happen like they did. But I’m glad you left. I don’t want you to see me that way, ever. And I don’t want to think about what they’d have done if they found you. You were the best, Howl. You did right and ran. I’m sorry you went seventy years without a home,” He swallows again, blue eyes shining with tears that are being fought back.

Godzilla - Howl, you mentally correct yourself again - moves closer to you, nudging your leg with his muzzle before stepping forward to rub his scaled face into James’s outstretched hand.

“Don’t worry, Sergeant Barnes. He wasn’t alone that long.” Howl is trying to shove his entire hefty body into his owner’s kneeling form, the super soldier’s smile is bright as he welcomes him, trying to wrap himself around the dragon in turn.

“Thank you.” He says gently, but with a light shining in his sapphire eyes. “Okay. Okay. I gotta introduce myself.” Howl happily disengages, his tail thumping happily against the pavement as James straightens up. His hand stretches out towards you, an unsure smile tugging on his plush lips. “James Barnes. Bucky...Bucky Barnes, actually.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You take his hand and both of you inhale sharply at the sensation of your skin touching for the first time. He hasn’t released your hand - not that you’re complaining - so you use your free hand to push a piece of hair out of your eyes. “We were about to have breakfast.”

“What a coincidence! So were we! Proud Mary Cafe?” Tony pipes up, sporting a huge grin.

“Um, yeah, actually.”

“Wonderful. We’ll all have breakfast together. Get to know each other.” Tony gestures towards where you’d run from, Bucky giving your hand a small squeeze before releasing it, his cheeks pink as you both realize you’ve just been staring at each other with dopey smiles painted on your faces.

Bucky walks closely beside you, although not as close as Howl who is pressed right up against his leg as he walks, your arms brushing against each other comfortably as you make your way to the cafe entrance...as if you’d walked like this a hundred times before. And it’s nice - this feeling of finding your soulmate, of finally being able to talk to them and to touch them. In fact, your fingers are nearly twitching with the need to touch him. Bucky holds the door open for you and then pulls your chair out for you when you’re all taken back to the now joined tables. This is all you could’ve asked for.

Plus you did have that week and a half left of vacation time...

Tagging:  @moonbeambucky @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now @unleashthemidnight @stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @marichromatic @blondecoffeecake @ourloveisforthelovely @whinywingedwinchester @feelmyroarrrr

[styles-is-the-name]

Just Before You Go - Part Three

this is my first shot at a harry-y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. Harry is a single father of two that hasn’t even looked at another woman in years. For the first time in five years, he finally feels like he’s returning to himself all because he met someone unexpectedly at a grocery store. Even though his kids are determined to help him find love again, will it be possible? (There eventually be smut, but will mostly be fluff.)

TW: suicide, self harm, and others will occur

Word Count: 2,399

“Harry, you do absolutely amazing work!” Your eyes widen slightly as you continue flipping through his books looking at different tattoos he’s done over the years. Each one is beautiful and unique.

“Thank you, love. I’m not like a traditional tattoo artist if you couldn’t tell. I won’t do any tattoo that another artist has done.”

“So if I were to ask for a butterfly, you wouldn’t do it the same way another person did?”

“I would ask you why you want the butterfly and depending on your response, I will find a butterfly that suits your reasoning perfectly.”

“Do you know about the butterfly project?”

“I sure do. Is...is that why you want one?” You look down breathing out shakily and nod nervously. He sits down next to you gently placing his hand over yours. “I’m here for you, Y/N. I know that we just met and you don’t trust me yet, but I am here for you.”

You smile up at him through tears and nod not able to speak fearful that you might start crying. He hands you a tissue and you dab the corners of your eyes trying not to ruin your makeup. The two of you look over at Darcy who is petting her cat lovingly.

“She’s very beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at you widely. “She looks exactly like her mother did.”

“She mentioned...you know...what her mother did.” You say softly not sure how to approach the topic. He sighs shakily leaning back on the couch.

“She really struggled with postpartum depression after she had my son. I didn’t realize it was as bad as it actually was. I spent more time with the kids than I did with her. She...she cheated. And when I found out...she killed herself in front of me.”

“Harry...oh my god. I’m so sorry.” He nods awkwardly trying to blink back all the emotion he feels right now. You decide to change the topic to help him out. “So should I bring anything to dinner tomorrow? I can bring dessert.”

“You cook?”

“I do, but I mostly bake.”

“The kids love baking.”

“So maybe...I can bring something over and we can cook and bake together.”

“Like a family.” He smiles lightly at you making your heart flutter.

___________________________

The whole day was so miserable and long for you. You were impatient and you hated it, but you managed to get some of your job applications sent out. Hopefully you’ll be hearing back from schools within the next few days. One of the only good things about who your father is is that he sends you money every week. That’s how you’ve been surviving.

Around three, you decide to call your best friend, Louis. He’s always good to talk to in a crisis or a fashion emergency and in your case, it’s the latter.

“Y/N!”

“Louis!”

“What’s up, babe?”

“Okay so. There’s a lot I have to catch you up on.”

“Is there a guy?”

“How did you know?”

“I haven’t seen you this happy since-“

“Don’t even say his name. I swear to god I will fly to New York and rip out your vocal chords.”

“Okay! Okay! Calm down. But anyway. Spill the tea!”

“Well I was at the grocery store yesterday and I met this man.”

“Name? Age? Nationality? Religion? Race? Relationship status? Criminal record?”

“Louis! Oh my god. His name is Harry Styles.”

“Oh my god that’s amazing. Imagine him so deep inside of you that you start scream-“

“OKAY! Okay! Enough!”

“Continue.”

“He’s a tattoo artist.”

“Seriously? Dude that’s so cool! Maybe I should make a trip out there.”

“Oh my god he’s amazing, Lou. He showed me some of his past tattoos and they’re all amazing.”

“You’ll have to send me pics.”

“I will the next time I’m at his shop.”

“You went to his shop?”

“Just shut up and let me talk!”

“Okay bossy.” You roll your eyes giggling.

“Well he has a British accent.”

“That’s your weakness!”

“I know! He’s a single father.”

“How many kids and how old?”

“Two. Darcy is nine and she's the sweetest little girl I’ve ever met. I haven’t met Carter yet, but he’s six and adorable.”

“And their mom? You don’t need a crazy ex around.”

“She’s not in the picture.”

“Seriously? She had two kids then just left?”

“Lou, it’s more complicated than that.”

“Well, tell me!”

“She killed herself.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know. But Darcy is really trying to get us together and guess what.”

“What?”

“Every Tuesday they have taco Tuesday. And they invited me tonight.”

“Yasss! My girl is gonna get some dick tonight!”

“Louis! Oh my god. Why did I even bother calling you.”

“Because you probably need help picking out an outfit.”

“Yeah I do. I don’t wanna be too dressy, but I don’t wanna be too casual either.”

“You know that yellow, flowy top we bought before you left?”

“The one that has ruffled sleeves and goes down to my thighs?”

“Yeah that. Wear that with leggings and sandals.”

“And my hair?”

“Braid it to the side and natural makeup.”

“Thanks, Lou. I owe you. I gotta go though so I can be there on time. We’re cooking together.”

“Awwww! You’re a little family already!”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Love youuuuu!”

“Yeah yeah.” You hang up giggling then rush to get ready.

_______________________

“But daddy! It’s not fair! Why did Darcy get to meet her and not me?!”

“Bubba, I already explained this to you. Darcy was at the store with me, but you get to meet her tonight. She’s coming over for dinner.”

“But I wanted to find you a girlfriend!” Harry blushes bright red. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to have you called his girlfriend (if it weren’t too soon, he probably would ask you to be his girlfriend himself), but having your kids talk about it is just a little weird.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Carter.”

“YET!” Darcy looks at Carter smirking.

“Jinx! Knock on wood. You owe me a soda!”

“Daddy.” Carter whines looking up to Harry.

“I need you both to be on your absolute best behavior tonight okay?”

“Okay daddy.”

“Yes daddy.” Carter leans closer to Darcy. “Is she pretty?” Darcy giggles and nods. Harry rolls his eyes sighing.

“She’s beautiful. Beyond beautiful. But we just met, guys. Nothing serious is going to come from a din-“

The two are running towards the door before Harry can even finish. Darcy opens the door right as you were reaching to ring the doorbell.

“Y/N!” She hugs you tightly catching you off guard. You hug back smiling lightly and wave to Carter.”

“Hi guys!” Harry walks over wanting to just melt into the floor seeing how embarrassing his kids are being.

“Guys, let her in! Let her in.” Darcy let’s go of you and let’s you walk inside.

“Woah.” You look around at the beautiful interior. “It's beautiful in here!”

“Daddy said you’re beautiful too!”

“Carter!” Darcy nudges him with her elbow.

“What?! He did!” Harry squeezes his fists biting his lip nervously.

“Well, your daddy is very handsome.”

Harry can’t help, but smile. He feels like he’s in high school again. He just met you yesterday and his heart is already racing when you compliment him. The only difference is that he is twenty-six almost twenty-seven and he knows it’s not just some school girl crush. It’s more than that. He hasn’t felt like this in nearly five years and to say that it’s terrifying doesn’t even come close to how he feels.

“Darcy, you were right! She is really pretty.”

“I know!” The two giggle running into the living room. Harry looks up to you blushing deeply feeling bad.

“I’m so sorry. I told them to behave. Looks like they decided not to listen.” You giggle.

“It’s okay, Harry. I wasn’t sure what to bring for dessert so I just brought stuff to make homemade chocolate chip cookies.”

“From scratch?”

“The best way to make them!” He leads you into his kitchen talking over his shoulder to you.

“My mum used to bake cookies from scratch and she would have them ready for when I got home from school. I tried to figure out how to make them the way she does, but I never could figure it out.”

“The secret ingredient is sour cream. Sounds disgusting, but it just makes the cookie more moist. Also, milk instead of water.”

“I knew the milk, but not sour cream. God I worked in a bakery as a teenager. I should know these things!”

“Awww little Harry in an apron!” You hold your heart jutting out your bottom lip. You see his gaze move down to your lips and your knees just about give out on you.

“Just be thankful my mum isn’t here. She’d be showing you all sorts of baby pictures.”

“We should have invited her then! I’d love to see those chubby baby cheeks. I love babies.”

“What’s your favorite age to teach?”

“Probably both elementary and high school.”

“Not middle school?”

“Oh hell no. Those brats are so rude it’s not even funny. And they’re too hormonal.”

“I would’ve thought that high schoolers are more hormonal.” You sit down on the counter popping a cherry into your mouth while watching him roll his sleeves up. Your mouth waters but you can’t tell if it’s from the cherry or his tattoos.

“That’s what you’d think, but they have the majority of their hormones in check. I mean think about it. Most girls start their periods in six grade. That’s around the time that guys started yanking off to socks.” His laugh sounds like music to your ears. You’d do anything to hear that again.

“True. I love how you put it like that.”

“I mean it’s true! I’ve heard most guys prefer socks over the male dildo vagina things.”

“What guys have you been talking to?!”

“My brothers and my best friend.” You shrug amused by the conversation.

“Well I just prefer my hand.”

“But doesn’t that make a mess?”

“If you aim right it shouldn’t.”

“Oh my god. I’d struggle if I were a guy for a day.”

“How so?”

“My aim sucks. I wouldn’t be able to even pee.” He throws his head back laughing.

“Well if I were a woman for a day, I wouldn’t be able to leave my bedroom.”

“Why? Too busy fingering yourself?” You giggle rolling your eyes.

“Eh. I’m more of a tits guy.” Just the way he said that makes you feel light headed. You know you need to change the subject before you have to go to the bathroom.

“Oh whatever. Anyway. Tell me about yourself, Harry.”

“What do you wanna know, love?”

“Anything and everything.” Harry hands you a pan and the package of meat. You pop another cherry into your mouth before hopping off of the counter and turning the burner on.

“Well, I was raised in Holmes Chapel.”

“Isn’t that just a few hours outside of London?”

“Yeah. It’s a pretty small town, but it’s lovely.”

“Why’d you move here?”

“For uni. Three of my lads and I moved here. We got an apartment and went to uni together.”

“What do they do for a living?”

“Well Niall owns his own club. Zayn is a model. And Liam is about to graduate med school.”

“Oh wow. That’s a big variety.”

“I know, but I know who to go to for free drinks and surgery if needed.” You laugh while pouring the meat into the pan. This isn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. It’s actually pretty fun.

“Where did you go to college?”

“We went to NYU but Liam is at Chapel Hill for med school.”

“I went to NYU!”

“No way! Class of 2012.”

“Class of 2014!”

“We probably saw each other around campus then. You were a sophomore when I was a senior.”

“I actually went to your graduation. My best friend Louis was graduating.”

“Louis? As in Tomlinson?”

“Oh my god. You know him?!”

“Yeah. We were pretty good friends. We lost contact a couple years after graduation sadly.”

“Maybe you should reconnect.”

“I would love to, but I don’t even know how to get in contact with him.”

“Here. I’ll FaceTime him.” You walk over to him touching the small of his back while FaceTiming him.

“Wha-“

“Y/N? Oh my god! Harry! I was wondering if you were him!”

“Lou! Hey man!”

“How’s life?!”

“It’s great! You?”

“Wonderful. I’m actually thinking about proposing to El.”

“Oh my god. That’s awesome!” You give him the phone giggling. It warms your heart hearing the two of them get along. They’re the two most important guys in your life right now. And you have a feeling that Carter will probably be the third.

You walk into the living room and see the kids watching tv. You lay down dramatically with your head in Darcy’s lap and your feet in Carter's.

“Hey! Your feet are smelly!”

“Hey!” You pout sitting up. He giggles and jumps into your arms making you groan.

“Just because your feet are smelly doesn’t mean I don’t want cuddles.” You laugh holding him close.

“Alright. What are you guys watching?” Darcy pauses the tv looking at you.

“There’s nothing really to watch.”

“Do you have Disney plus?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what to watch.”

“Have you heard of Wizards of Waverly Place?” They both shake their head no making you grin. “When my brothers and I were growing up, we would watch it all the time. It’s about two mortals that have three kids that are witches.”

“What are mortals?” Carter looks up to you confused.

“Mortals are people like us. We don’t have any powers.”

“I’m not a mortal! Daddy says I’m Superman!” You laugh pinching his cheek.

“You sure are Superman!”

“Can we watch it, Y/N?”

“Of course. Selena Gomez is one of the lead characters.” Darcy gasps pressing play immediately. She moves closer to you cuddling into your side.

Your heart has never felt this full before. Sure you’ve had cuddles from some of your kids, but you’ve never done this before. Carter rests his head on your chest sucking his thumb. You close your eyes just soaking in the moment.

Nothing could make this any better.

[gabbiemp3]

one direction albums ranked

5. made in the am

energetic and dynamic, but probably no one’s favorite. the unexpected and uncharacteristic surprise dropping of its insanely successful lead single, drag me down, was the band’s less than subtle way of alerting the public that they were alive and well in the wake of zayn’s departure. i can’t help but feel like this is the motive of the entire album. with its regression to the safe pop its predecessor four dared to challenge, the album feels contrived and rushed. some moments on it sound like an AI algorithm that averaged out their entire discography to generate a “One Direction Song”. Its occasional attempts to try something new are nice but ultimately gimmicky, preventing it from overcoming its ulterior motives--to be the band’s last hurrah (commercially and culturally) before the “hiatus” (you can tell us you broke up) we all should’ve seen coming. 

this doesn’t mean there aren’t some tried-and-true fan favorites on this album. songs like infinity, olivia, if i could fly, and of course, the fandom-homage history (easily the album’s strongest single) hold a special place in fan’s hearts. 

best: what a feeling, wolves, history, olivia

4. up all night

the iconic red double decker bus. louis’ toms and blue stripes. niall’s adorable crooked teeth. the flaming jealousy we all experienced as we watched harry sing the bridge of WMYB to a girl on the beach. this is an album that brings me nostalgia for a time in the fandom i wasn’t even a part of.

up all night is shimmery, camp, and more than a little embarrassing. (i genuinely can’t listen to stole my heart without bursting into uncontrollable laughter.) 

it’d be a lie, though, to say it isn’t freaking EARNEST. gotta be you is melodramatic (what a mess i’ve made upon your innocence/no woman in the world deserves this) but the boys give it their all--shoutout to my mans harry. same mistakes is obviously too mature to be on this album but zayn delivers an emotional and skilled vocal performance indicative of the standout status he’ll claim for the rest of their discography (until it’s so potent he decides to move on to his own). 

although it’s not very re-listenable, i will always have a soft spot for it, and i’m sure you guys do too. 

best: one thing, stand up

3. four

ah, yes. the Mature album. coincidentally, my favorite album from my top artists always seems to be this said “mature” effort (see: Taylor Swift’s Speak Now, Paramore’s Brand New Eyes). not true in this case, but still a good album. 

one direction goes very middle-aged-white-dad on us (unsurprisingly it’s my own dad’s fav). the singles from this album sort of tell you all you need to know about their direction on this one--80s-inspired rocky, else folksy. four is smooth and genuinely pleasant to listen to. it’s possibly their most cohesive effort (other than take me home), minus the out-of-place the 1975 ripoff change your ticket (hey, i’m not saying i don’t like this song, it’s actually good fun) and closer act my age, which is only forgivable because it’s become a meme in the fandom. 

four sees one direction at a place in their career where they don’t need to (and are maybe even tired of) making typical bankable pop songs, so they decided to experiment, and overall it worked. 

best: 18, fool’s gold, no control

2. midnight memories

one direction tries to do a lot of things on this album. do they all work? no. is it still damn good and jam packed with ABSOLUTE bangers? yes!

this album came at the peak of their career. their first stadium tour was for this album. this was the album that came out when i was just starting to become a full-fledged 1d stan.

it’s their first album that they really had a say in, in terms of production and songwriting. and you can tell. the songs feel authentic. for the first time, these boys are singing about things they actually believe in or have experienced. it’s why i forgive it for being kind of a mess. (what other album boasts a cheeky but admittedly novel love song composed of titles of other songs and a McFly-written 'remember your roots’ anthem? songs as antithetical as the minimalistic guitar ballad half a heart and the 70s rock jam little black dress?) the boys had been waiting three years to take the reigns, and they wanted to try everything. who could blame them?

finally, this album exemplifies what makes one direction so great: heart. it’s a record that is alive (no pun intended), and full of genuinely poignant moments. 

side note: i am so glad that my first 1d concert was during the where we are tour, because these tracks were MADE for arenas. 

best: little white lies (duh), strong, happily, right now

1. take me home

if you know me, you know i love a good pop album, in all of its saccharine, cliche glory. tmh may not be one direction’s smartest or best-produced album, but it’s definitely the most dopamine-inducing (that neuroscientist in This is Us said it himself, folks). and isn’t that primarily what one direction is all about? let’s be honest. we never listened to one direction to become more cultured, or question the structures and relationships in place in our lives, we listened because they make us, for lack of a better word, happy. 

and this album makes me soar. it’s one direction at their most cheeky, their most infectious, their most head-over-heels for you, the listener. just try to listen to songs like i would and little things and not swoon. it’s impossible! 

it’s one direction at their most one direction. and it’s so much fun. 

i don’t care that some say this album is manufactured or carefully calculated under all those layers of carefree teenage energy. they’re probably right! one direction’s production team probably exacted this record to be eaten up by a young, doe-eyed tweeny bopper like i was the first time i heard it. and that’s exactly what i did. i gladly took it then, and i will gladly take it today. 

best: nobody compares, loved you first, last first kiss, heart attack, c’mon c’mon 

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 014 [Social Interaction? Effort.]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,680 ☁

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“All I want is a place to call my own. To mend the hearts of everyone who feels alone. You know to keep your hopes up high and your head down low.” A Day to Remember, “All I Want”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

I groaned, forcing my eyes open. My hand shot out, feeling around for my annoying ass phone. I had three unread messages. The first was, surprisingly, from Aizawa.

✉ ‘Careful on your way to school.’

Weird, but okay. The next was from Toshi.

✉ ‘The school entrance has been swarmed by reporters. Ignore them, please.’

Reporters? Is that a normal thing for U.A.? The last message was from Murder.

‘Ur face sux’

My eye twitched as my fingers flew across the keyboard. ‘Uve never even seen my face fool’ I stood up, throwing my phone onto the couch before getting ready for school. After grabbing a bottle of Dr. Pepper from the fridge and scarfing down a bowl of cereal, I grabbed my phone again and slipped my sneakers on. A message was waiting for me.

‘Doesnt matter ur face still sux’

I rolled my eyes, ‘Ur an idiot‘

As I got closer to U.A., I heard the chaos before I saw it. The entrance was swarmed by at least two dozen people, some holding microphones, others holding large cameras on their shoulders. They were screaming at the students as they tried to enter the school, blocking their path. Talk about being a hindrance.

“Strange. I’ve never heard of such a thing happening in the past.”

I glanced over at Fumi as he stopped beside me, arms crossed firmly over his chest. “So this ain’t a normal thing, then?”

“Not to my knowledge. Though, if I were to make a guess, I’d say this has to do with All Might being a teacher.”

“You think so?” I scratched my cheek, watching as a female reporter roughly grabbed a student’s shoulder when he ignored her. “He’s the top hero, huh? So heroes are practically celebrities that people go nuts for here… how fucking annoying.”

He tilted his head, looking at me curiously. Right, he doesn’t know anything about me not being from here.

I cleared my throat. “Should we get it over with? Don’t wanna be late… again.”

He nodded, “Yes, they will only become more aggressive over time.”

The fucking vultures spotted us before we even got close, shoving microphones into our faces and screaming over one another to be heard. The only thing I could clearly make out was the name ‘All Might’. Fumi didn’t even spare them a glanced as he headed for the gate, but a woman grabbed his arm and shoved a microphone in his face, demanding an answer.

I felt a surge of annoyance and I grabbed her wrist, my hand turning red as I increased the temperature until she let go of him. “Keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself, bitch. The fuck is wrong with you, grabbing a kid like that. Grow the fuck up and get a real job!”

She cried out in pain and frustration and I released her hand. Muttering profanities under my breath, I put my arm through Fumi’s and tugged him past the archway.

“Thank you,” Fumi spoke softly, his feathery cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

I didn’t even know it was possible for him to blush but this world keeps fucking surprising me, don’t it? “Don’t worry about it,”

“If you won’t bring All Might out, I’ll get him myself!”

I glanced over my shoulder as a loud buzzing filled the morning air. Sheets of metal shot out of the ground, blocking the entry and towering above the stone walls that surrounded the school. The woman screamed in surprise and I scoffed. “That’s what you get, invasive bitch.”

Fumi sighed, placing his hand over his beak. “Your vocabulary is quite vulgar, Jen-san.”

I grinned at him. “Pretty sure I was a fucking sailor in my past life.”

A breeze blew past us, ruffling my hair. A shiver went down my spine, but I didn’t feel cold. I felt… exposed, in danger. What is this strange sense of dread that I’m suddenly feeling? Why do I have the urge to run? I suppressed another shiver, glancing back at the metal sheeting.

“Is something wrong, Jen-san?”

I snapped out of my daze, giving Fumi a forced smile as I followed him into the school building. That feeling lingered in the back of my mind, like someone breathing down my neck.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Decent work on yesterday’s combat training, you guys.” Aizawa stood at the front, his eyes sweeping the room. “I saw the video feeds and went over each of your team’s results. Bakugo – you’re talented, so don’t sulk like a child about your loss, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Pft, that bitch is totally sulking. I glanced around Big Boobs, but I could only see the back of his head since he was sitting in the same row. Truth be told, I had been a bit worried about him, but he seems to be in better spirits. His aura ain’t as dark as it was, anyway. I wonder what Midoriya said to him yesterday.

“And Midoriya – I see the only way you won the match was by messing up your arm again. Work harder! And don’t give me the excuse that you don’t have control over your quirk. That line’s already getting old. You can’t keep breaking your body while training here.” His voice softened. “But your quirk will be really useful if you can get a handle on it. So show a little urgency, huh?”

“Right!”

I snickered at his caring tone and his eyes snapped to mind. Shit, is he gonna call me out, too? I didn’t do that bad, did I? I slowly moved my body back behind Big Boobs, slumping over the desk so he couldn’t see me. I still haven’t apologized for the other day, either. Damn, I should really have a talk with him and Toshi, but effort. Emotional effort, too.

“Let’s get down to business,”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Your first task will decide your future.”

The classroom grew tense at his words, but I had the distinct feeling that he was trolling everyone again.

“You all need to pick a class representative.”

He said that so seriously, what the fuck. Still, the classroom started to erupt, overflowing with excitement and energy. I hate it.

“Pick me, guys! I wanna be class representative!” Do you even know what this job takes, Red?

“I’ll take it!” Sparky is definitely not smart enough for this.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need me.” Somehow I doubt that, Punk Rock.

“Someone with style should be -”

“Ooh! I’m totally the right pick!”

I guaran-fucking-tee you that Alien does that to French Fry on purpose. She’s going for the record of how many times she can interrupt him in three years. Or she just hates his guts, which I can understand.

Everyone’s voices started to overlap and I slammed my forehead onto the desk. What the fuck is wrong with these idiots, seriously? Don’t they realize how much work and responsibility that role entails? No fucking thank you. Oh, great taco god, even Bakugo wants the job. Depending on who gets the role, my school life could become hell. I’ve seen plenty of school anime to know that class reps and the student council give students hell.

“Silence, everyone! Please!” Prep shot up, his voice booming over the others. “The class representative’s duty is to lead others! It’s not something just anyone can do.” Especially not most of these dipshits. “You must first have the trust of every student in the classroom. Therefore, the most logical way to fill this position is democratically. We will hold an election to choose our leader!”

That’s a great idea and all, but… that hand of yours is raised higher than anyone else’s. It’s pretty obvious he wants the job.

“Is this really the best idea?”

“We’ve only known each other a few days, how do we know who we can trust?”

That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it? It’s not like the class rep is gonna be trying to bring nations together or some shit.

“‘Sides, everyone will just vote for themselves.”

“Most people will, but that means whoever does receive multiple votes must truly be the most suitable person for the job. It’s the best way! Right, sir?”

Aizawa had slipped back into his sleeping bag at this point, looking bored out of his mind. “Do what you want. Just decide before my nap’s over.” And with that, he fell to the ground, hidden behind the long lectern.

I sweatdropped. For someone that can show so much care for his students, he certainly loves to act like he hates his job. I wonder… is Zawa part tsundere? Is that even a thing? It’s gotta be.

“Thank you for your trust!” Prep turned to the class, pushing up his glasses. “Everyone, please write your vote on a piece of paper and fold it!”

With a sigh, I dug through my bag for my notebook and a pen. So far, it had only been used to draw cute tacos and the sacred taco bra. I swear, I’m gonna take this fucking grudge to the grave and then come back to haunt that bitch. I tapped my pen on the paper, scanning the room.

I don’t really have a relationship with any of these people. I had that one awkward moment with Bakugo; Ochako introduced herself to me; I helped Midoriya to Granny, but he probably don’t even know about that; Peppermint likes to glare at me for no reason, but he has a really nice voice; Then there’s Fumi.

I glanced over at him, watching his pencil scratch across his paper. Did he even want this job? He hadn’t said anything about it, and he doesn’t seem to be especially social or extroverted. He’s the closest thing I got to a friend here, though.

Damn, I’m really shit at interacting with people. Now that I’m thinking about it, the only people I ever interacted with during school was Travis, and even that was limited to a few times a month, and then there’s Skye and Heather, but something tells me those two are invalid. And twats. They’re definitely twats.

Maybe I should make more of an effort to get to know these people, but that sounds like a serious pain in the ass. Most of these people annoy me, anyway, and the only one that’s made an effort with me is Ochako and Punk Rock, but I blew her off.

“I will collect the votes now!”

Well, shit. I stared at the blank piece of paper and hummed thoughtfully. Oh… a grin split my lips as an idea popped into my head. I quickly scribbled down the name and balled the paper up, tossing it at Prep as he walked by. After collecting them all, he headed to the front of the room and started to calculate the results, writing names and numbers on the board. There were a lot of single votes. Guess people really did vote for themselves. Losers~

“Who voted for Aizawa-sensei?!”

“Pffft,” I bit my lip hard to stop from laughing, but his offended tone really fucking got me, man. Big Boobs and Peppermint turned to look at me, one with a weird expression, the other glaring in annoyance.

Prep slammed his hand on the lectern repeatedly. “This is an important decision, please take this seriously, Winchester!”

“Che. It ain’t that serious, fam, take a chill pill.” I huffed, leaning back in my chair. “One vote ain’t gonna make a difference.”

“Every vote matters!”

“For fuck’s sake, fine.” I scratched my cheek, glancing at the students as they looked back at me, some snickering. “I vote for Fumi,”

“Fumikage Tokoyami,” Prep nodded in satisfaction, turning to the board to add the vote. I caught Fumi’s eye and he smiled, sending me a nod.

Thankfully, I got zero votes.

Midoriya was in the lead with three votes, while Big Boobs, Momo Yaoyorozu, got two. Man, that name is hard for me to say, I hate it.

“How did I get three votes?!”

“Okay, you idiots!” Bakugo shot up from his seat, angrily slamming his hands on the surface of the desk. “Who voted for ’em?!”

“What, did you honestly think anyone was gonna vote for you?”

I mean, I thought about it doing it just for shits and giggles, but the risk that he would win, no matter how low, prevented me from doing so. Imagining that loud ass as the class rep makes my head hurt.

“What did you just say?!”

Prep sat down at his desk, his body shaking. “Zero votes… I feared this might happen, but I can’t argue with the system I chose!”

“So you voted for someone else, huh?” Yaoy… what was it again? I squinted at the board, eyes narrowed at her last name. Fuck it! I’m calling her Momo whether she likes it or not.

“But you know it was best to vote for yourself, right?” Sumo asked. “What were you trying to prove here, Iida?”

Iida, huh? I leaned back in my chair, folding my hands behind my head. I don’t know, I like the name ‘Prep’ better, honestly.

Midoriya stood up, his whole body shaking like a leaf as he headed to the front of the room, Momo standing beside him.

“Alright, the class rep is Midoriya. And our deputy is Yaoyorozu.”

“R-Really? It’s not a mistake?” Midoriya squeaked in disbelief. He’s such a timid little shit. How did someone with such little self-confidence become All Might’s successor? Makes no sense to me.

“This might not be so bad!”

“Yeah, I can get behind Midoriya, I guess.”

“Yaoyorozu was totally on top of it when it came to our training results.”

I glanced out the window at the azure sky, tuning out the class. That sense of dread is getting stronger and it’s making my fucking stomach turn. I guess I can add fucking paranoia to my list of issues.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

Lunch arrived and students poured out of their classrooms toward the cafeteria. I hung back, not wanting to get stuck in the crowd of hungry teenagers.

“Hey, Winchester!”

I paused, glancing behind me. “Oh. Hey Rin.”

He gave me a bright smile when he finally caught up and we started down the hall. “I’ve been trying to find the right time to say hi. I’m glad you passed the exam!”

I grunted, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I only passed because of you,”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t know you were there,” I muttered with a shrug, looking away from him. “I just wanted to test my power, I completely forgot about the exam and about getting points. I only got in because they thought I saved you.”

He nudged my arm, smiling when I looked at him. “Whether you knew I was there or not, you did save me, but that’s not important. We both got in, right?”

“Guess you got a point. Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

He nodded. “You’re in 1-A, right?”

“Yeah, what about you?”

“1-B and guess who’s in my class~”

My brow furrowed as I thought back to the exam. “Uhh… wait, not that blonde idiot.”

“Yup! His name is Neito Monoma and he’s certainly an interesting character.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but a loud yell from in front of us stopped me. “Get the fuck outta my way, Deku!”

“You guys got the arrogant prick, Monoma. We got the loud chihuahua, Bakugo.” I commented, sending him a blank look.

Rin chuckled as he watched the blonde stomping away from Midoriya. “I think we’re a bit better off. But only a little bit.”

“Probably are. My class is fucking nuts.”

“Sounds fun,” He paused for a moment, tilting his head. “Do you mind if I join you for lunch today?”

“Hmm, sure.” I usually just sit at the end of the table, listening to my classmates ramble on and argue about stupid shit. Wait… if he sits with me that means I have to put in the effort to try and carry on a conversation with him.

Fuck my life.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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[sincerelymarinette]

A Recorded Life (18/50) - Miraculous Ladybug

Words: 1865 Chapter Summary: Marinette calls Adrien for advice. At school, it's time for a project and Marinette and Adrien are lucky enough to be paired together. Though the project is easy, the time spent in the Agreste Household was not. Author's Note: i love the end of this chapter its so much fun. have some fluff before the angst-y-ish climax :)))

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MTV Cribs with Adrien

---

Marinette knew she woke Adrien up, and she felt incredibly guilty. No matter how many times she insisted that she let him get back to sleep, he wouldn't listen to her and wanted to talk. "I'm fine, Marinette. You didn't even wake me up. What's wrong?" He asked.

"Really, Adrien, if you were asleep, I won't bother you. We can talk tomorrow," She tried once more.

"What's wrong?" Adrien asked, sitting at his computer.

She sighed, finally giving in. "Just the comments on the new video. People are bombarding me, saying I know his identity or that we're dating. People are even fighting about who I'm dating: you or Chat Noir," Marinette told him. She was still scrolling through the comments, reading the never-ending sloo of questions and demands. Tikki was sitting beside her, reading along, and trying to comfort.

"Do you know Chat Noir's identity?" Adrien asked.

"No!" She groaned. "Why would I know that? He's just a friend," She calmed down and took a deep breath.

Adrien chuckled. "Just checking. And unless I'm a terrible friend, I don't think you're dating Chat Noir or me, right?"

"Right..." She said, confused about where he was going with this.

Pulling up Twitter on his computer, she could hear Adrien beginning to type. "So then this should be easy. Make a post on Twitter and your Instagram story. Simply say you and Chat Noir are only friends and you don't know his identity, and that you and I are not dating. I'll even tweet something about us only being friends, okay?" Adrien said. "Simple as that, yeah?"

"Hopefully," Marinette responded quietly, also pulling up Twitter on her computer. "My fans are a little crazy about all this shipping stuff."

Adrien shook his head with a little laugh. "Very true. But maybe it will calm most of them down with this kind of stuff," He reasoned.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng @MarinetteDC I am not dating Adrien Agreste. I am not dating Chat Noir. I do not know Chat Noir's identity.

As Marinette pressed tweet, she let go of a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Thanks, Adrien. I don't know what I would do if you didn't pick up."

"You know I'm always here! Gotta help my best friend in her time of need," He said, and Marinette could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow. Thanks, again," Marinette told him, and by the second, she could feel her eyes getting heavier. "Get some sleep, too!"

"I'll try," He said. "Goodnight, Mari. Glad I could help." And with that, they ended the call, and Adrien went back to finish watching her newest video.

Plagg popped up from behind her. "You sure you don't have a crush on her?"

Adrien paused the video again. "Plagg, I don't. And even if I did, you heard her. We're just friends!"

"I happen to remember you calling her your best friend. She only said you guys weren't dating," Plagg tormented.

Rolling his eyes, Adrien held up a piece of camembert to shut him up.

---

Adrien walked into the classroom to see Marinette burying her head in her hands as Alya had a sinister smile on her face. "Come on, girl. I saw the comments; I can't not ask these questions."

"For the last time, no, I don't know who Chat Noir is. Why would you think that? If I did, you would know if I knew. You know when I'm hiding something," Marinette reasoned. "I mean, I wouldn't tell you who he is, but you would know I know," She said, never removing her head out of her hands.

Adrien chuckled as he took his seat next to Nino. "Give her a break, Alya," Adrien pleaded.

Alya sighed. "Fine. You're off the hook this time," She gave in.

Marinette finally lifted her head and mouthed thank you jokingly to Adrien. Only a few seconds later, Mme. Bustier walked in to begin class. She collected homework and began talking about the next area they would be studying. It started off with a small project due in three days, and she was explaining the group work. She put everyone in pairs, and began writing the list on the board that she prepared before class.

Luckily, she went with putting friends together. Nino and Alya were grouped, and Marinette and Adrien were excited to be together. Nino and Marinette switched seats, and they were pleased with their partners. It was the best-case scenario!

"So, do you want to come over after school to work on this?" Marinette asked.

Adrien cringed. "My father doesn't like how much time I've been out of the house. He wanted me home immediately today," Adrien warned. "But, you can come with me? He'll be working, and if it's for a project, Nathalie and Gorilla won't mind. It is school work."

Marinette nodded. "Sounds great."

After getting excited about their project together, the school day went by quick, and Marinette and Adrien were standing out front to be picked up by the bodyguard. They were cracking jokes with Alya and Nino before they departed to Alya's house to work on their own project. Chloé even came up and tried to pull Adrien away from Marinette- though she knew it wouldn't work. She was too far behind, and she had seen the videos of them, there was no breaking up their friendship anymore.

Once she gave up, Adrien's car pulled up, and the two walked up. Gorilla rolled down the window, and Adrien smiled wide. "You've met Marinette before, right? We have a project together, and since Father wants me to stop spending so much time out of the house, we will be doing the project at our house. It has to be done, we only have two days, and I have a photoshoot tomorrow," Adrien started pitching what needed to be done. "If Father has any questions, he can refer to my assignment sheet or call Mrs. Bustier," Adrien nodded to finish his statement, and opened the back door for Marinette to slid in.

Gorilla, as usual, did not say anything. Instead, he only nodded and started driving to the Agreste Mansion. Adrien knew his father would not be happy if he knew about this, but he also knew that Gorilla had a soft spot and wouldn't say anything.

---

Marinette followed Adrien around his room, MTV Cribs style, showing off his luxuries. They quickly got the project done and were now making a video. It was a new change of scenery, and Adrien loved having a friend over. Though they told Nathalie they were still working on the project; she wouldn't have even cared. They were just banking on Adrien's father to not come in.

As Adrien showed off his room, they both knew he wasn't bragging. They were making a fun video with Marinette's commentary behind the camera. Every few minutes, Adrien would grab a random accessory from his closet and put on a different character and continue taking Marinette around the room, acting as he felt that character would.

The video was filled with laughs, and the two were clearly having fun acting. As Adrien pulled a black tie and a pair of dark sunglasses on, the room tour was finished. "Well, let me show you the rest of the mansion," He pulled on a series voice, adjusting his tie. "I'm Adrien Agreste, ever heard of me?" He winked at the camera. He opened his room door, and Marinette followed Adrien out as he started rambling and naming random things.

They both knew Adrien had very little idea of what he was talking about. He was pointing at paintings on the wall, making up words in French, and in English as he explained it all. At the end of the hallway, Adrien threw the tie off and ran down the steps. "Hurry, Mari! We can't be late!" He shouted as Marinette followed in a pit of laughter.

They ran back and forth on the first floor, laughing loud as Marinette chased Adrien with her camera. In the foyer, they were stopped when they heard a loud cough.

Adrien stopped as quickly as he could, and Marinette ran into him as they turned to look at where the cough came from. Gabriel was standing at the top of the steps with Nathalie off to the side, both of them looking disappointed.

"Adrien, what is going on?" Gabriel asked, not acknowledging Marinette.

Adrien took a deep breath and removed the sunglasses. "Marinette and I were grouped for a school project. I know you wanted me to come home after school, so I brought her along so we could work on it, Father," Adrien responded.

Gabriel's emotion didn't change. "The project involves you running around the house while screaming, and you being chased by a camera?" He inquired.

Adrien dropped his head. "No, Father. We finished the project and decided to make a video for Marinette's YouTube channel. They're a lot of fun, and we got caught up in the moment," He explained. "I'm sorry we were running and being loud. I'm sorry we disturbed you."

"The project is finished?" Gabriel asked.

"Yes," Adrien nodded, looking back up at Gabriel.

Gabriel looked good Nathalie, then back to Adrien. "Good. You have some piano pieces to practice." Gabriel turned his gaze to Marinette. "Put the camera away when you are in my house. Adrien was foolish to let you bring it; he should know it is unsafe for our privacy."

The two stood there, waiting for Gabriel and Nathalie to leave again so they could walk back to Adrien's room without it being awkward. Gabriel glanced down at his watch, then back to Marinette. "It's getting late. You should be getting home, Miss Dupain-Cheng," Gabriel said. With that, he finally turned and left Marinette and Adrien alone in the foyer.

They turned to each other. "I'm sorry," They said at the same time, then giggled slightly.

As they started the walk back to Adrien's room, Marinette sighed. "I think your dad just kicked me out."

Adrien shook his head. "He doesn't want me having fun, as you can see," Adrien said. "He shouldn't have gotten angry with you. It was my fault. We shouldn't have even left my room, but it was having fun playing all those characters."

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm not worried that he was assertive with me. I think he treated you poorly, though. That situation totally could have been handled much better," She reasoned.

"That's my father for you," He smiled slowly. Back in Adrien's room, he helped Marinette father her things. "I'm glad the project was easy. And I did really have fun with the video. You could post the part of my bedroom, just cut it before we go out in the hallway," He told her.

Marinette nodded. "Maybe I'll wait a few days in case your father does see it," She said. "But I had fun, too. Somehow we always have a good time making videos together!" She smiled. "But next time, let's make sure we do the videos, not at your house."

"That's probably a good idea."

---

@lady-of-the-roses-and-lilies @bookishserendipity03 @avatheexceed @gkz10 @coccinellegirl @kat-thatoneweirdo @strawberryblondish @snow-swordswoman @lilgaga98 @evufries

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2009

20 to 21 years old. And so the 2000s end, not with a whimper, but with an explosion of upbeat, great pop songs.

Only one third of these lists left to make!

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

First to second and final year of my Master degree in Contemporary History. Also got two summer jobs that year. I was basically only researching and writing my master thesis at this point and trying to survive on a 50€ per month budget to pay for transport, clothes, driving lessons, and food apart from one meal a day. Needless to say, some corners had to be cut and my health wasn’t the best. I was also trying to register to pass some concours d’Etat to be a government worker considering there was 0% chance I’d be able to find a job otherwise with my qualifications and my mother had been trying to find an excuse to throw me out for more than four years at this point. Basically I was broke, stressed out and in panic mode.

Thank god, the music was mostly energetic and upbeat on the radio. I can’t imagine what my mood would have been like if the charts had been as horribly depressed as in 2018 or 2019.

This was also the year when my favorite music reviewer ever, Todd In The Shadows, started to make his first videos, so you might think his lists are going to influence mine, but as it turns out we have very, very different tastes for the most part (I mean come on, the guy hates Depeche Mode), so... not so much. But he helped me discover a lot of songs I would have ignored otherwise, so yeah, godspeed, Todd.

It should be mentioned that the two songs that I wanted to put at the top of this list before looking at the actual year-end lists turned out to be non-elligible and that is extremely frustrating. Obviously, as I mentioned in the previous post, there’s Life In Technicolor II by Coldplay, which has an incredibly fitting name since it’s one of their most colorful songs ever. But I’m not even sure I would have put it at #1 since this was the year of Mika’s second album, and oh my god, We Are Golden was FANTASTIC. It’s my absolute favorite song from the guy, the music video is incredibly fun, and I listened to that shit on a loop as soon as it dropped.

I usually don’t put such large links for non-elligible songs but the fact this isn’t elligible is nothing short of criminal. Check it out if you’ve never heard it.

As for albums from bands I liked... eh. Lacuna Coil dropped Shallow Life, which was not as good as KarmaCode, Pet Shop Boys dropped Yes which wasn’t nearly as good as Fundamental, Depeche Mode dropped Sounds of the Universe which was DEFINITELY not as good as Playing the Angel (I liked Wrong, though. But it’s not elligible), Eminem released Relapse which was joyless and pretty bad and he was kinda dead to me at that point (even if it wasn’t as terrible as Encore AND he had that song with Drake that was very good), Placebo released Battle for the Sun which was pretty great but still not as good as their previous two albums, Paradise Lost had Faith Divides Us Faith Unites Us and basically same thing there, and Indochine had La République des Météors which is imho their worst record in the past twenty years, by far.

Long story short, every single one of the bands and artists I loved who released an album that year let me down (except Placebo, maybe).

And then VNV Nation released Of Faith, Power And Glory, I listened to it, and suddenly I had a new favorite band, and everything was good and beautiful in the world again. Album of the year for me, hands down.

With that out of the way, a few honorable mentio-HOLY SHIT HOW MANY OF THESE ARE THERE, WTF

Replay (Iyaz) - A perfectly good and innocent little earworm.

Run This Town (Rihanna) - I don’t like the original very much (Kanye’s verse is atrocious) but I've had a mashup of it with Bach’s Tocatta & Fugue in D minor (yes you read that right) on my mp3 player for years now, so this has to count. The mashup is called Run This Town In D Minor. It’s one of my favorite mashups ever. I even made fanart of it once! Look it up if you can, the original video has apparently disappeared.

Circus (Britney Spears) - You know it’s a good year for pop when even Britney Spears makes music I like.

Magnificent (U2) - Wait, even U2 was making decent music? I had zero use for them since at that point Linkin Park had more or less taken over their ecological-musical niche of “mainstream epic-sounding pop-rock music with tortured vocals and Emotions(tm)” but that one was still kinda nice.

Même Pas Fatigué (Magic System & Khaled) - I’ve said that before and I’ll say it again but they always bring a smile to my face and I don’t get why it’s ‘cool’ to hate their songs in my country. Yeah, they often sound the same, but I’d listen to ten similar-sounding Magic System songs in a heartbeat whereas you’d have to pay me to listen to ten similar-sounding Nickelback songs.

Day n Nite (Kid Cudi) - This had a tendency to get stuck in my head, but not at all in an unpleasant way.

21 Guns (Green Day) - Much better than I remembered.

When Love Takes Over (David Guetta), Stereo Love (Edward Maya ft Vika Jigulina), Evacuate the Dancefloor (Cascada) - That year was full of catchy, stupid, energetic songs, wasn’t it?

Greenlight (John Legend) - If I had better taste, this would be on the list. Alas, you’re reading the top 10s of someone who once put Blue (Eiffel 65) in a #1 spot, so yeah.

In Your Hands (Charlie Winston) - Same thing, basically.

Like a Hobo (Charlie Winston) - “Like a hobo from a broken home, nothing’s gonna stop me”, said this very useful song. Now is a good time to remind you that my nickname at the public university was The Hobo. So yeah. I liked this song a lot and I still do.

Forever (Drake) - Drake and Eminem are both amazing on this track. Unfortunately there’s also Kanye West and Lil Wayne on it. But. Like. “I'm Hannibal Lecter so just in case you're thinking of saving face / You ain't gonna have no face to save”. Dude. Duuuuuude.

You Found Me & Never Say Never (The Fray) - Did I mention I really, really liked this band. I think I did. Several times.

Paparazzi & Love Game (Lady Gaga) - Would both have had a chance to land on the list without the incredible amount of great, catchy tunes that year had to offer.

C’est Dans l’Air (Mylène Farmer) - Mylène Farmer had THREE singles on the French year-end list and this is the ONLY one I like. Good electro, mediocre verses but a great chorus (and a weird and kind of hilarious music video). Basically a song saying we’re all going to die and she can only sing about it. It’s strange, it’s a bit dark in a fun way, but it’s sadly not enough to land on the list, and it was the last cut from it.

Phew. Making this list was like a Hunger Games of catchy, upbeat, stupid songs to find which one was the best. It’s not #1 but I’m still shocked I had to put it so high.

But first, the runner ups.

10 - Fire Burning (Sean Kingston)

US: #33 / FR: Not on the list

Yes, ALL these honorable mentions were kicked out to give the last spot on the list to this guy and a chorus that goes “somebody call 911, shawty fire burning on the dance floor, WOAH!”.

The fact that I don’t feel bad about it means this was the right pick for that spot.

9 - Rain (Mika)

US: Not on the list / FR: #22

Anybody else thinks Mika looks like the Fourth Doctor on this screenshot from the music video or is it just me?

Anyway. So yeah, as I said, We Are Golden would have topped this list if it had been elligible. Sadly, it isn’t, but Rain is. I don’t like it nearly as much as We Are Golden, but what can I say. It’s still Mika. I’ll take whatever I can.

8 - I Gotta Feeling (Black Eyed Peas)

US: #4 / FR: #17

I lost about 80% of the respect I had for this song the day I realised its untouchable, marvellous beat was very probably stolen from Take a Dive. I still love it though. Had a few actual parties in 2010 and early 2011 and this was garanteed to make everyone dance, even people like me who don’t know how to dance.

And then the dancefloor died instantly anytime anyone tried to put Boom Boom Pow on because it’s impossible to dance on that one. But that’s another story.

7 - Poker Face (Lady Gaga)

US: #2 / FR: #5

Needless to say this was absolutely everywhere and overplayed to death and beyond, and the fact I still wanted to listen to it and put it on my playlists really tells you how good I thought it was (and still is).

6 - Ça m’énerve (Helmut Fritz)

US: Not on the list / FR: #1 (...yes.)

This is a novelty song with a singer pretending to have a thick German accent, complaining about various things in France, like the fact he doesn’t fit the dress code for a club, that he wanted to buy a sweater with “Rock” written on it but it’s out of stock, that some girls can fit in a size 34 blue jean and not him, that there’s a queue of people trying to buy macarons at the Ladurée shop, and so on. And every time he concludes “that gets on my nerves”, said in a very flat tone. Here’s a translation.

It was overplayed as f█ck here. Think Despacito levels of overplay. But the beat is great and it’s still hysterical after having heard it about a hundred times that year.

Fun fact, while I was making this list and relistening to this song, my s.o said “haha that sounds great! What is it?” and I stared at him in disbelief. Somehow, he was completely serious. That’s like someone escaping the Great Macarena Onslaught Of 1996. What happened. How.

5 - Waking Up In Vegas (Katy Perry)

US: #36 / FR: Not on the list

Again, I must remind you that my s.o is a Katy Perry fan and that I’ve heard this song even more than the average radio listener did at the time, and it’s STILL #5 on this list. What can I say. It’s a ton of fun and one of my favorite songs from her.

4 - New Divide (Linkin Park)

US: #61 / FR: Not on the list

Is this their best song? Not by a f█cking mile. I thought it would be much lower when I started to make this specific list, but what can I say. Linkin Park is like that one old friend that you kept no contact with for years, and once you meet them again, it’s like they never left. Who cares if that wasn’t nearly as good as Numb or In the End? Not me, that’s for sure.

Also, “In every loss in every lie / In every truth that you deny / And each regret and each goodbye / Was a mistake too great to hide / And your voice was all I heard / That I get what I deserve”. Holy shit, dude.

3 - Good Girls Go Bad (Cobra Starship)

US: #43 / FR: Not on the list

BEHOLD. THE ONLY SURVIVOR OF THE 2009 ‘CATCHY UPBEAT STUPID SONGS’ HUNGER GAMES. THE CATCHIEST, UPBEAT-IEST, STUPIDEST OF THEM ALL. HERE IT IS AT LAST.

The thing I love about this is that it’s a song made by nerds for nerds and that the singer looks and sounds completely non-threatening. As Todd said in his own list back in the day, “that guy couldn’t make good MILK go bad” and that’s what’s so endearing about the song, I think.

Also yes, this is, in fact, placed above Linkin Park.

2 - Use Somebody (Kings of Leon)

US: #14 / FR: Not on the list

This was my #1 at first. I LOVED it. I even bought the album, even though, as you know, my funds were very low that year. That music is soaring. It’s majestic. Well, the lyrics aren’t that majestic and soaring, it’s about loving someone and trying to catch their attention, but the rest? Damn this is intense. It was also elligible for the 2010 list, by the way, where I ALSO wondered if it should be #1, but in both cases, it wasn’t meant to be.

And so this list of 2009 hit songs comes to a close.

It began with the forging of the Great 2009 Upbeat Songs. Three were given to the Punk Rock hits. Seven to the Dance Tracks. And nine, nine songs were gifted to the Radio Friendly Pop Songs, which above all else desired power.

But they were all deceived, for another song was made. Deep in the forgotten land of Synth Pop, in his Parents’ Basement, the Dark Lord Adam Young forged a master song, and into this song he poured his joy, his talent and his will to dominate all charts.

One song to rule them all.

1 - Fireflies (Owl City)

US: #60 / FR: Not on the list (76 the next year)

I know. It’s a meme nowadays. But still. Have you any idea how satisfying a song with an initial beat that looks like small pulsing yellow and blue lights in the dark ACTUALLY titled “Fireflies” is? How gentle it all sounds and looks, even when the music soars? The number of drawings and paintings I made just based on the colors of THAT song? It’s like a synth pop version of one of my favorite Mike Oldfield tunes ever, Weightless.

And then, on top of all the rest, how relatable was that guy’s body language and general attitude?? Before even knowing he was on the spectrum I was like “oh BIG mood.”

Also following his twitter was one of the best decisions I ever made.

So yeah. I would have loved to put Coldplay or Mika in that #1 spot, but I’m not too mad about it thanks to this wonderful little song and its author. Such a shame Deer in the Headlights and Alligator Sky aren’t elligible for the 2011 list.

Next up: Johannes finally moves out and finds a great job and starts living a little, plus here’s a #1 that will be difficult to justify