#I did not play the video through the downstairs stereo but I was very very close to doing so

[dracolizardlars]

just discovered a new fear because it turns out my phone can and does automatically connect to the stereo downstairs when Bluetooth is on. and. the reason I had turned Bluetooth on. was. to watch a goddamn. 18+ rated video. with my Bluetooth headphones. and. my mother is downstairs. I feel like I just had a near death experience

[unbridgeabledistances]

okayyy so i had something heavier/hurt-comforty in the works as a gapfiller about mickey processing (bc we all need that!!!) but this fluffy little 3+1 about ian and mickey singing to each other happened instead— i hope u enjoy💞

a 3+1 of 3 times ian sang to mickey, and one time mickey sang to ian (to give context to the absolutely wild 11x09 serenade)

also the biggest shoutout to @southside-forever’s 80s gallavich playlist which has SO many bops and inspired bits of this😌

--

1.

Mickey didn’t really know when it all started— Ian was always fucking humming these days, always whistling or singing some tune under his breath when he came out of the shower. He was more buoyant recently, lighter— the security gig was going well, and these days it felt like something looming and heavy had lifted, releasing the crooked hunch out of Ian’s shoulders that had taken root the sour morning weeks before as he shoveled Fruit Loops and Jameson into his mouth. Since then, it felt like he and Ian were finally on the same goddamn page for once— like they had a purpose, like they were moving forward.

Or at least, moving forward on the weekdays— but today was a slow, lazy Saturday, and Mickey was still laying in bed in a tank top and boxers, sweaty and entangled in the crumpled sheets, laying back with his head on the pillow and playing some overly-gory sharpshooter game on his phone. He’d been trying to beat this fucking level a million times, but his thumb couldn’t move quickly enough at the pivotal moment when he had to shoot a bunch of enemy forces— he’d been at the game for a good half hour, since when Ian had sleepily stumbled off of the mattress sporting a full bedhead to go take a shower, and Mickey was starting to get a tinny, sharp headache from staring at his phone screen for too long. He was just starting to consider getting up, to peel off his sweaty tank top and head downstairs to grab some coffee— when Ian came into the room from his shower, a fraying towel wrapped around his lower half and his torso slick with excess water droplets. Mickey flickered his eyes up from his game for a moment, taking an… appreciative glance, and then quickly focused his attention back on his pixelated mission as Ian stood in front of the dresser in the cramped bedroom, and started to rustle through the drawers for a t-shirt.

Mickey maneuvered his buff video game avatar through a minefield, biting his lip in concentration— when his sharp focus was suddenly infiltrated by Ian, singing under his breath in an airy tone.

“Ooooooh we’re halfway there.”

Mickey gritted his teeth slightly and tried to pour all his attention into the pivotal moment of the level, but half of his mind was being pulled to listen to Ian’s gravelly voice, continuing to softly murmur to himself in a tone that was ridiculously off-key.

“She says we’ve gotta hoooold on, to what we’ve got—”

Mickey’s phone screen flickered. GAME OVER.

Mickey wanted to throw his phone at the fucking wall. He inhaled, then pressed “Start Game” again, one last time— and again, his focus was disrupted by Ian, singing under his breath as he pulled on his jeans and gently pattered his hands in a rhythm on the top of the dresser— which was endearing and sappy as fuck, sure, but it was not helping Mickey with the task at hand. Mickey puffed out a sharp, frustrated breath, keeping his eyes on his phone screen.

“The fuck are you singing for right now?”

Ian suddenly gave a sheepish smile over his shoulder as he rifled through their sock drawer, like he’d been caught in the middle of doing something wrong.

“Don’t know. Song was just stuck in my head I guess.”

Mickey glared at Ian, pressing his thumb to the screen to pause his game. “Cut that shit out.”

Ian rolled his eyes fondly, sitting on the edge of the mattress to pull on his socks. “You should be thanking me for serenading you with your fucking eighties dad music. I could be singing Carly Rae Jepson right now, or some other pop bullshit that you hate.”

Mickey felt an involuntary, amused smirk split onto his face, and he tried to turn it into a scowl. Fucking adorable motherfucker.

“Okay, tough guy. If anything you should be thanking me for cleansing your ears from the techno garbage that you used to listen to.”

Ian gave a soft smile, shoulders turning fully towards Mickey now that he’d finished pulling on his socks— and then he turned and clambered into the bed, hovering above Mickey and causing Mickey’s fingers to go slack around his phone case. Mickey could smell the warm, freshly-showered scent of him, all cheap bar soap and Old Spice deodorant, and felt the soft press of his t-shirt through Mickey’s thin tank top— an overly worn t-shirt, one of Mickey’s, that stretched just a little too tight over Ian’s torso.

Ian looked down at Mickey, fucking beaming for some reason, his eyes light. He swooped down, pressing a soft, quick kiss above Mickey’s eyebrow. And then—

“Take my haaaand, we’ll make it I sweeear”

Mickey felt an involuntary, uncomfortable chuckle bubble up out of his ribcage. Was Ian fucking… singing? To him? It definitely seemed like it. And as much as he didn’t want it to, because this was fucking sappy and ridiculous and… well, gay— Mickey couldn’t help the fact that his husband leaning over him, breathily singing the tune of one of their goddamn wedding songs in his husky tone-deaf voice, made Mickey’s blood run a little bit hotter; which was bullshit, because absolutely nothing about this should be hot, and it was probably the most disgustingly married thing that Mickey could think of— but apparently everything about Ian, every dorky and fucking god-awful cringey thing that he did, was a turn-on, or at least according to Mickey’s thudding heartbeat and sweaty palms right now.

Ian’s face was still hovering centimeters above his, his eyebrows raised triumphantly and sporting a sappy fucking grin, like he knew how affected Mickey was by this, no matter how much Mickey grumbled and complained and tried to hide it.

Mickey rolled his eyes. “You’re fucking soft, Gallagher.”

Ian just leaned down again, kissing up the slope of Mickey’s neck and biting at his earlobe—and, okay, maybe Mickey could get behind Ian’s singing after all.

 2.

Ian’s singing was starting to get fucking ridiculous— and as much as it made something deep inside Mickey feel a light pang of relief, to see Ian being his old bubbly self again in the rhythms of routine and held by the safety net of financial stability because of the security gig that made the air between them less stale, it also meant that they were also around each other pretty much 24/7, and Ian’s serenades were starting to get relentless.

While they pretty much had a common ground in liking nostalgic 80s music, they would still inevitably argue about what music to play in the ambulance every morning— and whatever shitty album they eventually chose to put on, whether it was Ian’s pop garbage of Mickey’s mellower 80s tunes, Ian’s brain would apparently absorb all the songs like a fucking sponge and he’d start singing them all day long—in the kitchen, in the shower, even when they were just laying in bed on their phones and Ian would constantly hum absentmindedly.

Today they were driving to some bougie dispensary in Glencoe, near a bunch of ridiculous mansions on the very outskirts of the city, and it was Ian’s turn to pick the music— Mickey usually elected one of the well-loved CDs that he’d jammed into the glove compartment as they were refurbishing the ambulance, CDs that he’d kept since he was a kid when he piled them high in the corner of his grimy room next to a half-broken boombox— but as much as they were Mickey’s comfort CDs, Ian could only listen to Bon Jovi so many times before he started to slander 80s music as a collective genre.

“Can we just listen to something by someone who isn’t older than us, just this once?”

“Easy for you to say, Gallagher. At least the music that I like has fucking words.”

When it was Ian’s turn to pick the music, he usually picked more modern stuff with heavy beats and a thrumming bass (though more often than not he also appeased Mickey’s tastes with some “80s throwback” playlist he’d found on Spotify that he’d noticed Mickey would bob his head along to)—but on longer drives, like this one, it was easy to butt heads about the soundtrack. Ian had allowed Mickey to play through one of his Queen CDs that morning, and then Ian had put on some whiny indie bullshit from a playlist on his phone for the other half of the drive— now they were heading home after a long day, with the stereo turned low to a local radio station.

They’d settled into a comfortable silence, as they often did at the end of the day when their energy faded— Ian had stopped pattering his hands on the steering wheel like he usually did when he was amped up and buzzing with energy in the mornings, and Mickey could tell they were both ready to collapse onto the couch the second they set foot in the door.

Mickey blew out a deflated breath and reached to turn up the radio, tuning in to some middle-aged host with a cheery voice chattering about the heat wave in Chicago that upcoming weekend—and then the airwaves went silent, and there was the overdramatic sound of a slamming door and a gospel choir.

Ian’s ears nearly fucking perked up at the sound as the opening chords began.

“Life is a mystery… Everyone must stand alone…”

Ian immediately raised his voice to join in, the tired slouch leaving his shoulders.

“I hear you call my naaaame”

He turned to Mickey and pointed overdramatically, causing Mickey to shove his arm away but unable to quell the overly fond grin that he knew was blooming on his face.

“And it feels like… home.”

The beat dropped, rolling into the chorus, and Ian energetically drummed his hands against the steering wheel once more.

“C’mon, Mick!” Ian laughed, throwing his head back dramatically as he sang while still trying to keep his eyes on the road.

“When you call my name, it’s like a little prayer, I’m down on my knees, I wanna take you there.” Ian’s pitchiness clashed with the melody, but he was too focused on singing and bopping side to side in this seat to really care.

Mickey rolled his eyes, his lips still turned upwards at the corners while he watched his absolute dork of a husband jamming to Madonna. “Isn’t this song about giving someone a blowjob or some shit?”

Ian gave an easygoing laugh. “Technically, yes. And it’s also definitionally a gay anthem, which means you have to sing with me.”

Mickey scoffed and flipped Ian off. “Fuck off.”

Ian raised a playful eyebrow, and continued to sing with relentless eye contact:

“It’s like a dreeeeam, no end and no beginning”

Mickey felt heat rise into his cheeks against his will. No fucking way was he going to sing a Madonna song about a blowjob stone-cold sober at 2pm on a Tuesday while driving home from work with his fucking husband—which, wow, that was probably the gayest sentence that had ever crossed Mickey’s mind in his 26 years of existence (which was definitely saying a lot).

This wasn’t ever a place Mickey thought he’d be in— sitting beside Ian so comfortably, singing fucking songs while they drove home from their daily commute; getting to soak up all the warmth, all the brightness that had always radiated out of Ian so intensely that it nearly blinded him, a warmth that he’d always wanted to lean in closer to even when they were just scrawny kids in a shitty neighborhood still figuring everything out.

Maybe, just maybe— it was okay to lean in a little more.

By the time the chorus rolled around the third time, Mickey was begrudgingly humming along, like he usually did whenever the songs that Ian was singing on and endless loop got stuck in his own head and popped up while he was brushing his teeth or making toast for breakfast— by the time the final rhythmic chorus faded to silence on the radio waves, Mickey glanced over at Ian, singing at the top of his lungs, face slightly flushed and grinning ear to ear.

“Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there.”

3.

Ian and Mickey were walking down the moonlit sidewalk, veering back home after an evening at Lip’s— the night had honestly been weirdly enjoyable, which was definitely a welcome reprieve from all of Lip and Debbie’s intense back-and-forths about the house over the past few weeks. Tami and Lip had needed to go over to Brad and Cami’s for some bullshit crisis management about the stolen bikes, and Ian had readily agreed to watch Freddie— which meant that whether he liked it or not, Mickey had spent his Friday evening at Lip’s half-packed apartment watching Ian coo over a one-year-old, which was… not a totally unwelcome sight.

Trying to keep his shit together, Mickey had snapped a picture to send to the Gallagher family group chat, and everyone had immediately given them shit about being so eager to babysit and get their hands on a toddler like a couple of baby-crazed newlyweds—which had caused Mickey to start overzealously complaining in the groupchat to compensate while Ian occupied Freddie. Kev had noticed the texts and swung by Lip and Tami’s house after closing the Alibi to keep the two of them company, bringing by a pack of beers—and now he and Ian were warm and happily buzzed, relieved of their babysitting duties and walking the chilly city streets back towards the Gallagher house.

Halfway through the walk Ian had interlaced their fingers, and now their arms were swinging slightly as they turned the final corner to walk down the last stretch of pavement towards the chain-link fence—when suddenly, Ian stopped cold a few houses away from the Gallagher front porch. He looked down at Mickey, raising their entangled hands and pressing a kiss to the inside of Mickey’s wrist.

Mickey raised an eyebrow in confusion, and Ian just looked back at him—his cheeks glowing pink from the few beers, his eyes light and unguarded under the streetlamps.

“This spot reminded me of something.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. Of fucking course it did. Ian was a sappy motherfucker on the best of days, but with a couple of beers in him he was practically uncontrollable.

“What?”

All of a sudden Ian let go of his hand, punching into the air dramatically.

“Cause love is a battlefiiiield”

Mickey laughed, feeling warm hot blood rush to his cheeks in delight—and fuck, he loved his husband so goddamn much. And just this once, mostly because of the own alcohol running thick in his bloodstream, Mickey made the lurching decision to join in, stepping closer towards Ian and raising his hands equally as dramatically.

“No promises, no demands”

“Woooooah”

Ian had practically doubled over with laughter, tears welling in the corner of his eyes—and Mickey let himself get lost in it, the warm feeling buzzing through his body, of love and joy and fuck knows what else, getting to sing on a fucking street corner with his husband a decade after everything had gone so gut-wrenchingly wrong, leaving him bleeding on this same pavement.

They stumbled over their own feet up the stairs, fumbling out of their clothes and collapsing into bed—and later, just as Mickey was on the brink of fading into unconsciousness, Ian mumbled the same refrain into the crook of Mickey’s neck in a sleepy voice, like the song was still stuck in his head and he just couldn’t help it.

“Love is a battlefield.”

4.

It was late— it was one of those slow, tender nights when the past was hanging heavy over them, laying pressed together in bed as thin streams of moonlight poured in through the blinds, pressing whispers into each other’s skin about all of the hurt and the doubt that had been seeped up and healed with time.

Ian was sprawled back on the bed and Mickey was laying with his head resting on his chest, feeling his ribcage expand and contract each time he took a breath. They’d absorbed so much the past few weeks— the sick, twisted blows of a loss that felt all the more jagged and painful because of how muddled the grief for Terry was—but after a few days had passed they’d found a place to settle, in the comforting press of the silence in their bedroom.

Mickey was mindlessly playing with Ian’s fingers, listening to his steady breathing—and without thinking, he ran a finger over the cool silver of Ian’s wedding band, letting out a breathy chuckle.

“I still can’t believe we’re married sometimes, man.”

Mickey could feel Ian’s lips curve upward into a smile from where his mouth was pressed against the top of Mickey’s head.

“Yeah, me either.”

And Mickey felt something bubbling, something welling— and he didn’t ever fucking sing, not unless Ian made him, but Ian was always fucking dropping song lines into sappy moments like this.

So he took a breath, and, half-singing but mostly talking, in a way that sounded almost mocking if it wasn’t so soft around the edges, he let out into the dark silence of the room:

“At last….”

He wasn’t even singing, not really—he was just sort of… saying the words in a singsongy way, but he knew that Ian could tell what he was doing, what he was trying to do. He was trying to be as fucking sweet and soft and pliant as Ian was, as Ian always was in moments like this, in a way that sometimes made Mickey feel brittle and hard in comparison. This time, Mickey wanted to breathe out the love he had for him into this moment, the love that made his ribcage feel like it was going to fucking burst— a love that he felt erupting outwards when Ian had played this song for him for the first time a few weeks before the wedding, and had asked with a shy smile, “D’you think it’d be okay if you walked down the aisle to this song?”

Ian’s chest shook with laughter, and he carded a hand through Mickey’s hair. And then, in his gentle, sleep-soft voice, in a breathy tone that tickled the shell of Mickey’s ear:

“My looove has come along”

Mickey rolled his eyes fondly, just to prove something to himself, even though he knew Ian couldn’t see him—and then he reached a hand upward and leaned back, drawing Ian’s chin forward to press his lips to his for a brief, lingering moment.

Mickey settled back against Ian’s chest again, and felt Ian press a kiss to the top of his head. He smiled contentedly, closing his heavy eyelids.

Maybe being a couple of sappy motherfuckers wasn’t so bad.

[missdaviswrites]

22. Feast

Rosie always loved Christmas Day, of course, but this year was even more exciting than usual, because instead of going to Gram and Grandad's for dinner, Gram and Grandad were coming here to Baker Street. Sherlock didn't want to do it at first, but Daddy convinced him that they should, that it would be nice for Gram not to have to make a big dinner for once. Daddy said he and Sherlock knew how to cook, so it wouldn't be that hard, and it would be a good change from spending the morning driving out to the country like they did every other year.

After they opened presents, Daddy and Sherlock went into the kitchen to start getting things ready to cook. Rosie wanted to help but they said it was too crowded for three people at once and they were both sounding kind of cranky so she decided to start playing the new Mario game she'd got for Christmas instead. If Daddy and Sherlock were busy they wouldn't tell her she could only play video games for a little while like they usually did.

She'd only got to level three when Sherlock came out of the kitchen, dragging Lady by the collar. "Take her," he said, sounding way too grumpy for Christmas. Rosie set down her Nintendo for a second and put her arms around Lady while Sherlock went over to the hook by the door that held her lead. She started to wag her tail, which made it hard for Rosie to hold her because her whole body was moving. "No," Sherlock said. "No walk. Sit." He snapped the lead onto Lady's collar and handed it to Rosie. "Keep her in here. We're trying to stuff the turkey and she won't stay out of the way. We should have had it in the oven thirty minutes ago."

Rosie took the lead from him and stuck her hand through the loop at the end, then slid out of Daddy's armchair to sit on the floor next to Lady. Ginger immediately jumped up to take Rosie's spot on the chair—they'd only had her for a few weeks, but the kitten had already decided the chair was her favorite place to be whenever Daddy wasn't in it.

Rosie went back to her game, but didn't get very much further in it before she heard a weird noise. She looked down at Lady, who had fallen asleep with her head underneath Sherlock's chair, but it wasn't her. Then she heard it again, sort of like a weird coughing noise. It was Ginger.

"Daddy! Something's wrong with Ginger!" Rosie put her game down again and reached for the cat, who jumped over the arm of the chair, away from her.

Daddy stuck his head out from the kitchen, frowning. "Sounds like she's trying to vomit."

"Ew!" Rosie scooted away from Ginger, startling Lady, who woke up and barked a few times.

"No, it's pretty normal for cats. She's probably trying to bring up a hairball."

Rosie wrinkled her nose. She slipped Lady's lead off her hand so she could move around the chair on her hands and knees to get another look at Ginger. "There's something hanging out of her mouth. I think it's some ribbon from this morning."

"Oh, Rosie!" Daddy waved the large spoon he was holding in the air, then tossed it onto the worktop and marched out into the sitting room. "I told you to make sure everything got picked up and thrown away."

"I did!"

"Well, you must have missed something. Grab her."

Rosie lunged for Ginger and got her fingers on her but the kitten was too fast and slipped away, darting behind one of Sherlock's old stereo speakers next to the fireplace.

"Oh, for...." Daddy walked around to stand on one side of the speaker. "You try to grab her from over there and I'll get her if she runs this way."

Ginger made another hacking sound as Rosie reached for her. She could see the ribbon hanging from the cat's mouth still—it was gold, and had drool running down it, yuck. She stretched out her arm to try to pull it out of her mouth but suddenly Lady was in the way, trying to push past her to see what was going on, and Rosie lost her balance, falling forward so that she almost landed right on Ginger. The cat hissed and jumped, launching herself up and over the speaker and the pile of file folders that were stacked on top of it. The folders slid everywhere as she climbed over them, spilling papers in every direction. Lady started barking again and Rosie shoved her out of the way so she could chase after Ginger, who was running with the long piece of ribbon still trailing from her mouth.

"Get her, get her!" Daddy shouted. "If she swallows that long of a piece we'll need to take her to the vet!"

"I'm trying!" Rosie shouted back, as Ginger ran underneath the Christmas tree in the corner of the room.

"What is going on out here?" Sherlock came out of the kitchen, wearing a dirty white apron over his suit.

"Help us catch Ginger," Daddy said. "She's got a piece of Christmas ribbon in her mouth and I don't fancy paying the vet bill for her to have surgery to remove it."

Sherlock wiped his hands down the front of his apron and joined them in the sitting room. "Rosie, you crawl underneath the tree after her and we'll grab her when she runs away from you."

Rosie did as he said. She thought she was going to be able to catch Ginger now, because the cat stopped again to cough some more, but as soon as Rosie reached for her she ran again, only this time she ran straight up the tree.

"No!" Daddy shouted, and grabbed the tree just as it started to tip. He said at least three bad words while Ginger clutched at the trunk of the tree, about as high up as Rosie was tall.

Sherlock said another bad word, though not as bad as Daddy's words, and then he reached into the branches and caught Ginger, prying her paws off so she didn't drag the whole tree over as he pulled her out from it. He took one step back from the tree and tucked her under his left arm, then pried open her mouth with that hand so he could pull the ribbon out with the other. "Got it!" he announced, and tossed Ginger onto the sofa. She hissed and then ran behind the bookcase.

Daddy let go of the tree carefully, stepping next to Sherlock. "Let me see." He squinted at the wet piece of ribbon and said, "I think you got all of it—the end doesn't look chewed. She should be fine."

Rosie tried to turn around so she could crawl back out from behind the tree, but there wasn't much room, so she went backwards, instead. There were pine needles all over the tree skirt—there hadn't been that many on the floor until Ginger had jumped into the tree, but now they were sticking through her leggings and they were sharp. Maybe next year they should buy a fake tree like Daddy always wanted to, even if it wouldn't smell as nice.

Just when she got out from underneath it, there was another crashing sound, even louder than all the crashing sounds Ginger had made.

"The turkey!" Sherlock shouted, and ran back to the kitchen, with Daddy right behind him. Rosie stood up and went after them—it wasn't Ginger this time, though, because Rosie could see her tail sticking out next to the bookcase still.

When she got to the kitchen she saw what had happened—there was stuffing everywhere, the dish that had held the turkey and stuffing was on the floor, and so was the raw turkey itself, except one of the legs and a big chunk of meat from the top were gone. Lady had the missing pieces in her mouth—she stood at the far end of the kitchen, staring at Sherlock and Daddy.

"You little—" Daddy began, but before he could say more bad words, Sherlock dove forward and grabbed Lady's lead so she couldn't get away. Daddy yanked the turkey out of her mouth, tossing it into the sink.

"Turkey's not bad for dogs," Sherlock said. "There's some risk of salmonella since it's uncooked, and she shouldn't have the bones, but—"

"I'm not letting the dog eat our Christmas dinner!"

"Well, we can't eat it ourselves, now."

Daddy and Sherlock stared at each other for a moment, until Lady started to creep forward toward the meat that was still on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

"No!" Sherlock yelled, and then dragged Lady down the hall and shut her in his and Daddy's bedroom.

"What are we going to do for dinner?" Rosie asked.

Sherlock stood over the turkey on the floor. "Cook the part she didn't have in her mouth?" he suggested.

"God, no," Daddy said. "It looks terrible. Half the meat's missing. What would your mum say?"

"She'd probably laugh a lot."

"No. Sherlock. We need to figure out something else. What shops are open?"

"Nothing that sells whole turkeys. We could probably get sandwiches."

"Oh, God." Daddy put his hands up to his mouth like he was trying to hold in more bad words.

"Don't worry, John," Sherlock said, and stepped close to give him a little kiss on the side of his head. "We can fix this. We'll just find something else to cook."

"What? There might be some chicken in the freezer but not enough to feed everyone."

"No." Sherlock brought his fingers up to his chin and was quiet for a minute. Daddy squatted down and started to pick up all the food on the floor and then Sherlock spun around on his heel, pointing at Rosie. "You go downstairs to Mrs. Hudson's flat, you know where the key is. I doubt she'll have any large servings of meat, but maybe we'll get lucky and she'll have a roast in the freezer. If not, we'll just tell everyone we've recently gone vegetarian. See if Mrs. Hudson has some more potatoes, or maybe some rice. We'll make an extra dish or two to serve with what we've already planned."

"Okay," Rosie nodded and turned to head downstairs.

"Oh! Eggplant!" Sherlock shouted after her. "See if she has any! We can make a lasagna; it will seem like we planned it all along. Hurry. Gram and Grandad will be here at noon and knowing Mycroft he could show up at any minute. Go! Go!"

Rosie ran off, glancing at her Mario game and at the cat still hiding next to the bookcase as she passed by. Maybe next year they could go back to having Christmas dinner at Gram and Grandad's house. The drive out to the country really wasn't that bad after all.

Read all the ficlets here: Welcome Christmas

[taezhu]

hybrid!taeyong

taeyong is a stereo typical computer nerd sciencey guy

started off as a kid who loved video games

now does stuff with the mechanics in video games

which makes him a bit of a recluse actually

since he spends a lot of his time up in his office testing out graphics for the latest video game being released

but if by chance he’s not in his office, you’ll find him at the music store looking at the newest music collection

which is where you meet him, actually

you’re looking for some rap music for your friend’s birthday gift and he’s looking at in for...

inspiration, or something like that, Taeyong likes to rap when he’s in the shower at 4am

he looks like he works there since he’s switching CDs from their positions and changing them around

so you decide to ask him if he had any recommendations since he looks like he has a better clue than you

lo and behold, he does know more than you

but when you do say excuse me and take a step towards him he looks like a deer caught in headlights 

only because taeyong...doesn’t really talk to people on a daily basis actually 

he doesn’t like the sound of his own voice enough to be talking all that much

and actually, he doesn’t think other people like the sound of him that much either

so when you do actually want to talk to him, as menial as it is, he’s like a child on the inside with his heart racing

he’s so excited to speak to you about something he actually likes that he forgets

all you really wanted was some inspo for a birthday gift

he’s probably talking for about twenty minutes about different rappers and artists he likes

telling you the different styles and meaning behind the music

which actually helps because it means that you can have some sentimental value in your gift

and actually you’re thinking this guy is pretty cute

not just with how he talks about the music but in general

his dark hair makes him look so dark but he has such a sweet and forgiving smile that it melts your heart 

though taeyong still is the shy baby at heart, and even when he realises that woah they’re beautiful he’s not going to say anything

foxes are a bit more reserved than other hybrids, and taeyong is proving that to be exactly right 

but he does blush a little when he looks you in the eyes and when he sees you smile

he’s thinking that you’re way, way too good for him

especially since your phone in your hand is lighting up a lot and you’ve probably got loads of friends

but taeyong is more surprised when you ask him if he has snapchat 

because why are you asking him of all people??? he’s never had a reason to have one

‘uhm... no, but I do have instagram?’

taeyong saved himself on that one

when you tell him you want to follow him, he starts questioning everything about it

he really can’t see any world where someone like you would want any contact with him

but he gives you his instagram and you tell him you’ll message him later, since you have to be somewhere

you never did buy the birthday present though

and that entire evening taeyong is waiting by his phone for a notification to say you followed him

which he doesn’t get until gone 12 that night 

he was half falling asleep laying across his bed but he almost has a heart attack when he sees you text him

he will pree your Instagram for about an hour and he’s just in awe of how beautiful you are

though a part of him is jealous that you have a damn close friendship circle

the jealousy turns to worry when you message him (finally) and ask if he’s free the next day to go back to the music store and actually help you pick your friends birthday gift

and he’s not going to say no to that, so he meets you

he helps you find an album for your friend, and in return you invite him to your friend’s birthday party as a plus one

which he isn’t... that happy about to say the least

he says yes to you and all the way up until the party he says he can still make it

though one hour before he’s meant to be meeting you, taeyong’s shy and antisocial side kicks in and he really doesn’t want to go

he’s worried about having to talk to so many people

he’s not that interesting and he can’t exactly spend the entire evening talking about music he likes with you

and if someone gives him alcohol he’ll feel like he has to drink it and he’ll just embarrass himself 

so he almost texts you to cancel on you

but you call him just in time to say you’re early and you’re waiting downstairs for him

(since he offered to pay for the taxi to the club it’s at)

and actually, taeyong ends up having a great night with you

he doesn’t drink because you don’t either, and he’s over the moon when you introduce him as your friend

and all these drunk girls are finding him cute but he sticks by your side the entire night

he's basically at your hip and joining in every conversation

when you bring up why he’s not off dancing with the girls who were asking him to go before

‘I'd rather be here with you, you’re nicer’

‘not that they’re not nice but... you know what I mean’

you and taeyong end up ditching the party a little later to go get chicken in town

and you and taeyong end up talking for ages, it’s almost 4am when he’s walking you home

and holy shit does taeyong think that he really can’t get enough of you

he’s gone from this shy and untalkative asshole to someone who wants to make friends because of you

well, only slightly but the point is you make him want to actually talk

which for him is a first

because you take an interest in him and you don’t just think it’s boring when he talks about his job and his other interests

Taeyong will get comfortable around you pretty quickly, unlike what you’d expect from his fox hybrid

he’s got more of a dog personality since he’s so warm towards you

but really that’s because he like likes you

he’s one hundred per cent going to make you try out video games he’s been on the production team for 

‘but the graphics on that character are good right?’

‘oh really? you think they’re really good?’

‘Its just cause I was producing that character actually’

whenever you hype him up he’s going to react either like he’s too shy to listen to you or

‘well if you think I'm that cool why don’t you just date me?’

that’s...how he asked to be your boyfriend and it was completely by accident

not that he could have asked for it another way since he wouldn’t have said anything otherwise

taeyong is just a guy with a lot of love to give, and to you he will definitely give it

he’s dedicated and loyal, and will always have your back in any kind of argument of any kind

he’ll also fake fight you all the time with texts like ‘ill fight you shut up’ coming all the time

he’s like that boyfriend who is your best friend at the very first time

and even if sometimes he can be a pain in the ass who teases you for the littlest things

he's the perfect boy to lay under the stars with or cuddle with at night

especially if you run your fingers through his hair and play with his ears, he’ll marry you within a few seconds ♡

♥︎ (2018) TAEZHU - DISCLAIMER ♡

[seven-oomen]

So I hope you’re feeling better, and have managed to cool down finally.  A year or two ago, the A/C in my apartment kept going out, to the point where finally they had to just replace the whole unit, and there were days when the temp inside would hit nearly 33 degrees (according to Google’s conversion chart.)  As someone also very much built for colder climes, I was about ready to murder someone, but that would have required too much movement and energy expenditure.  So I know just how indescribably miserable that feeling is.  (Frankly if I ended up in Eur at any point, I would probably also cave and buy some sort of A/C, too.  Give me cold over hot any day.  I can always add more layers, I can only take off so many.)  Also, I hope you’re feeling better in general after therapy, and that it was at least helpful and cathartic, if super difficult and heavy.

I’m sorry your game turned out disappointing.  I’d seen a few memes pop up on Facebook with no real context that now make a lot more sense.  I think sometimes a sequel that just doesn’t quite live up to expectations can be worse than if it’s just a trainwreck from the start, because you can visualize how it might have been if only…

I did have one more thought on the HP front (oh god, why?  how?  I was never really even in that fandom…)  I can’t remember enough details right now to be certain if Durmstrang was more generically Eastern European coded or if it was more specific to certain countries, but I thought it wouldn’t necessarily be entirely out of the question that Noah could be a student there.  Chris in Beauxbatons is a no- brainer.  And Hale is already a British last name.  Basically, what I’m saying is Tri-Wizard Tournament, except they’re fucking.  (Which given what little I know about the HP fandom, that is probably not the first time someone’s said that…)

And I see we’re just going right for the feels with that flashback, huh? XD  Why do I have the feeling that there’s going to be a corresponding scene in the current timeline as a callback that will just make it hurt even more?  (My heart says Stiles or Malia singing it to Ben, my head says anything is good, really)  And now I can look forward to imagining John’s ghost lovingly Gibbs-smacking the three of them upside the head any time they start getting angsty about how the other two feel.  Do you have any FCs for (young) Claudia or her father (I think there were already at least a couple different actresses, so I consider her fair game)?  Or Julio?  And having a visual for him now makes me think of the flashback in Ch.6 where he was treating their injuries, wondering if he and Mieczyslaw ever did go to have a “chat” with Elias, if there was a specific event that lead to that particular incident between Chris, Noah, and Elias, and where Peter was during all that (and who kept him from “helping” his father with his visit)?

Oh, one more for the sibling prank pile: when I was in high school/college, a lot of times when I’d be over at this one friend’s house, we’d be downstairs playing video games with her little sister and/or brother (by which I mean, they would be playing GoldenEye or Perfect Dark, and I would just be dying a lot because I’m beyond terrible at FPS), if we were playing music “too loud” (usually No Doubt or Garbage, or later on, AFI), her older brother would go upstairs to his room and start blasting Queen or Pink Floyd at top volume to try and drown us out, like some kind of Stereo Cold War (instead of using headphones, or asking us to turn it down, or something else logical.)  It definitely made for some interesting mash-ups, and I always had to fight down the urge to ask him “…you know we like those bands, too, right?  Like, if you’re trying to dissuade us or irritate us, you’re doing it wrong…"  Long story short, I could totally see Stiles and Jackson doing something like this, until one of their dads gets so frustrated they start blasting some of the most teenager repelling music they can think of to make them stop.  Peter: “You think this Spice Girls mix is painful?  Keep it up and you’ll learn that I know where Chris keeps the Nickleback CDs he doesn’t think we know about.”

This was originally gonna be part of my review, but I wasn’t sure how long it might get, so I saved it for one of these.  So I know in a previous chat you mentioned Peter’s wedding day was one of the happiest of his life, and I know Chris calls them his husbands, while Noah said Peter’d been “practically proposing”, so I was wondering would they be considered engaged at this point, or actually married (like, werewolf married or something)?  Because I am entirely here for some kind of ceremony once shit calms down a bit.  I can’t see Peter resisting the chance to get both his boys into fancy suits to show off just how lucky he is.  And they could work all the kids into the ceremony in different roles, all of them dressed up, too, but allowed to style it based on their personality and preferences.  Think about all the photoshoot opportunities.  Not sure who would be the best choice for officiant, because I’m not sure who may or may not have popped up by that point in the story.  I feel like the most appropriate setting (based on present knowledge) would be the Nemeton.  Second option would be the back yard of the house once it’s been rebuilt, depending how far in the future that is and how long they want to wait to make it official (Or other locations, what ever feels the most right.)  Imagine Melissa (lovingly) roasting the everloving shit out of them in a speech.  T H E  D A N C I N G…  Just, like, a huge celebration of the fact that they made it through.  And don’t forget the honeymoon…  Them at very least getting a room in some super luxe hotel, even if they don’t want to go too terribly far away because of the kids.  Champagne, huge shower stall and Jacuzzi tub, giant bed with 1000ct sheets, balcony with a hot tub, just, like, all the nicest, fanciest luxuries.   (And because I apparently can’t get enough of them teasing Peter to distraction)  At the end of the night they all stumble into the bedroom, and get Peter sitting down on a chair or bench facing the bed.  They loosely tie his wrists behind him with the tie he’d been wearing, and slowly unbutton his shirt and slide it down to wrap around them as well (they all know it hasn’t a chance of holding him, that’s not the point) before backing away out of reach and going to work on each other’s suits.  Eventually they’re down to just their necklaces, dress shirts, and an extra surprise they had made for their husband; matching Chantilly lace panties specially handwoven with a triskelion pattern (I was thinking maybe out of lilies-of-the-valley, because for some reason I felt like Peter was a May baby, and that’s the birth flower for that month, and also I feel that would curve into the Hale spirals fairly easily and nicely.  And while I like the idea that it’s traditionally black, this one has a lovely blue shift threaded through it that would look AMAZING on them), and featuring thin triple side ties made from silk in shades of blue to match their eyes (‘cause maybe he won’t rip it if he can just untie it?).  Peter’s brain would just keep blue screening and rebooting as he tried to process everything, while they turn and crawl up the bed (giving a hell of a view as they go), turning back to him as they lean up against each other, trying to mock pout through their smirks like “Won’t you join us, husband?  It’s lonely up here without you."  His shirt just ends up confetti sized shreds of white cotton (or silk?) floating gently down to the floor as he surges up the bed at literal supernatural speed so fast he almost bounces off the headboard, trying to figure out a way to tackle both of them at once.  (…Holy shit, I cannot believe I just actually wrote all that out.  Apologies if it went a little far, as per usual, I may have gotten carried away.  In my defense, speculating about it kept me from murdering the guy who decided to open and start "testing” our dog whistles because he insisted the last one he got didn’t work, so.)  Actually, that also reminds me, we know that Derek has a triskelion tattoo, do you think Peter does as well?  Or gets one at some point?  Do you think Noah or Chris would ever get one, as a sign of pack loyalty, since the Hales are the ones that took them in when their own families cast them out?  (And also, that’s definitely a mark that’s not going to fade away, but also does not carry the risk of accidental turning.)  Where would any of them have/get them?

And re: review responses, etc.  Don’t worry if you don’t want to reveal too much ahead of time.  I generally figure a lot of what I mention is stuff that has a good chance of just coming up later in the story.  I’m equally happy with the previews we do get and with waiting patiently (I swear I can) for things to be revealed in future chapters.

Oh, and the cosplay!  (Sorry, meant to mention that earlier but I got…distracted…)  If you do ever get the chance to do that one that would be amazing!  By the time I got into TW I wasn’t getting to cons very much any more, so I’ve never really seen anyone cosplaying any TW characters, at least obviously.  And we so rarely got to see any of Peter’s beta shift as it was.  I will say that the Hale boys are some of my faves for fandom inspired fashion (basically where it’s not specifically a costume and most regular people wouldn’t get it but I know.  I’ve done it with a number of characters over the years.)  I have several henleys in colors that feel appropriate to the show’s wardrobe, that if I’m in the mood I’ll pair with some dark jeans and boots or black chucks.  It lets me express my fannish inclinations with less risk of anyone getting all judge-y about it.  I, however, can’t get away with wearing them with quite as few buttons done up as they do, there tend to be laws about that sort of thing.  I also have a cute floral dress that works really well for a Lydia inspired look, and plans for similar, slightly more obvious, versions for Raven (Teen Titans) and Black Canary, should I ever manage to get to a convention again (I’m much more prone to costumes that are adaptations over exact accuracy.  Nobody wants to see me in a spandex suit, not even me.)  But yes, full support and encouragement on the cosplay!  That look is definitely one that would catch attention.

Final unexpected segue: Many, MANY years ago we carried a product at work that was an anti-mating spray (yes, that’s spelled correctly).  It was intended for unspayed females that went into heat to help keep interested males away.  Many were the customers that bought it without paying attention who thought it would help with grooming.  I just thought it was one of the funniest things I’d ever heard of, and that was long before I knew anything about omegaverse fic.  Can you imagine something like that in a traditional a/b/o story? XD  I still think about that product every so often (no idea if they even still make anything like that), and wanted to share the hilarity.

Wow, just realized that it’s like 3am.  Jesus, I’ve been rambling a while.  But I think that was everything?  Anyway I’m going to attempt to go to bed, and pretend I didn’t just write more almost porn.  (There’s a quote from the movie Noises Off! [another fave, highly recommend if you’ve not seen it], where a character is referring to her ability to remember lines, and says “Well, it’s like a slot machine up here.” *gestures vaguely at her head* “I, I open my mouth, and I never know what’s going to come out; three oranges, or two lemons and a banana."  And I feel like that’s an accurate description of my posting style.)

For the FC I do, for teenage Claudia: Davina Claire (but imagine the brown eyes)

For Adult Claudia the actress Joey Honsa: 

And for Claudia’s dad (I’m not awake enough to copy Miech’s name fully): Gary Oldman

And Julio Delgado: Santiago Calbrera

Fucking tumblr... I had entire sections typed out during work but my phone freaked out and now it’s gone and I can retype it all over a again... am angry >:( 

Anyway, yeah I’m doing a lot better, ac’s on, I got drinks and shit. And I’m trying to rock my Reese’s pieces tank with Harry Potter booty shorts.

I’m gonna try and answer the most important things I wrote down and work from there. 

And now I can look forward to imagining John’s ghost lovingly Gibbs-smacking the three of them upside the head any time they start getting angsty about how the other two feel.  

There was a lot of Gibbs-smacking back when John was watching over them. Although he made sure to never freak out Chris and instead go for the ‘abby kisses’ on the temple and forehead whenever Chris did the right thing or was particularly vulnerable.

I also have this headcanon that John took care of Allison and Jackson for the first week or two because Chris just couldn’t. He felt alone at almost 18, just went through pure hell to deliver two babies he doesn’t really know. He loves them, he does, he’s just-, he doesn’t know how to feel. So John steps in and teaches him how to be a parent. It takes a bit of time but by the time Jackson and Allison are a week old, Chris is fully on board and would die for them in a heartbeat. And John just looks at him with this pride in his eyes and kisses his forehead. “I’m proud of you.” It’s the first time Chris hears that from a father figure.

And having a visual for him now makes me think of the flashback in Ch.6 where he was treating their injuries, wondering if he and Mieczyslaw ever did go to have a “chat” with Elias, if there was a specific event that lead to that particular incident between Chris, Noah, and Elias, and where Peter was during all that (and who kept him from “helping” his father with his visit)?

This I will address in the prequel, and maybe a very short teaser flashback.

And I was going to close this story with a wedding, a honeymoon, and a pack run at the end. ^^ And holy shit the panties idea is fucking golden.

I could not focus on my work today XD. What an image please do give me more if you think of them ^^. It’s a lovely idea to have Chris and Noah dressed in lacy triskelion panties while having Peter ‘bound’ in a chair. They’re making out, they’re all having fun. And Peter’s hard, like he’s trying so hard to be a good boy for them but holy shit if they keep making out like that, all bets are off. What a fantastic image. Although probably not the best when trying to work XD. (I don’t mind.)

Actually, that also reminds me, we know that Derek has a triskelion tattoo, do you think Peter does as well?  Or gets one at some point?  Do you think Noah or Chris would ever get one, as a sign of pack loyalty, since the Hales are the ones that took them in when their own families cast them out?  (And also, that’s definitely a mark that’s not going to fade away, but also does not carry the risk of accidental turning.)  Where would any of them have/get them?

He do! All the Hales do, it’s a coming off age thing for the wolves and some humans get them as well to show solidarity with their wolf siblings.

John had a tattoo on his left pectoral. His wife Kathryn had hers on her right shoulder. Nathaniel had one between his shoulder blades out of solidarity to his wolf brethren. (He was born human). Talia had hers on the right side of her abdomen just above her hip bone. Merlia had a tramp stamp triskelion. Peter has his over his heart. (The top of the spiral can be seen peeking through some of his deeper v-necks.)

 Laura had hers on her left shoulder. Derek has his between the shoulder blades in honor of his oldest uncle. Chris gets his on his left pectoral after he’s had his youngest child. (In honor of John) Noah gets his on his right pectoral as a mirror image after he’s had his youngest twins. (They talked about it before hand where they’d get them.)

Malia gets hers on her left wrist. Stiles on his right wrist in solidarity. Both of them on the inside. Jackson gets his just below his right collarbone. Allison gets hers just below her left collarbone. Ben gets his on his left arm when he’s old enough.

Not sure about the others but it’ll come to me.

Can you imagine something like that in a traditional a/b/o story? XD  I still think about that product every so often (no idea if they even still make anything like that), and wanted to share the hilarity.

I am wheezing. That’d be so fucking funny XD Anti-Alpha! Alpha be gone! Spray the horny away! (Okay I’ll stop.)

But now I am imagining Stiles making a prank like that where he just gives his pops (Noah) a spray bottle for christmas that says: Spray the horny away! And has a photoshopped picture of Peter on it with a red cross through it.

They have a good laugh about it.

[latchingontoallofyou]

A Whole Lot of Nothing

 “Baby, are you going to be here soon?” Val says when Jenna answers the phone.

“Yes. I’ll be like 10 minutes.”

“Alright. I’ll have dinner ready.”

“I’m sorry. I was trying to get here sooner but…”

“It’s ok. You’ll be here. It’s alright.”

“You’re the best Val. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon, love.”

Jenna and Val have scheduled to have a nice lazy night. They both had a lot to do today and are looking for a calm after the storm, as people like to say. He’s got some chicken that will be done any minute on the grill. He steamed some vegetables and made some rice. He found some great strawberries and cut them up as well.

He set out some of their favorite movies to watch after dinner. He’d put their favorite CD to dance to in the stereo. He set out the plates and ran to grab her favorite of his shirts for her to wear later if she wants. He then steps back outside to check on the chicken. He flips them one last time and waits for them to be just right before taking the chicken off and putting them on a plate. He turns the grill off and heads into the kitchen through the back door. As he is coming through, he hears the front door open and close.

“Hi babe” he hears Jenna call out.

“Hi. Great timing the chicken just finished.”

“Awesome! I picked up some salad along the way. I was craving it something fierce today. I thought about getting salad for lunch but everyone went to get burgers so I went with them.”

“Salad is always good. You always crave it though.”

“It’s just so good. How can you not crave it?”

“It’s not that I don’t crave it. It’s just…”

“That wasn’t really a question you had to answer. It’s really ok” she says as she gets down a bowl and puts the salad into it and then gets their favorite dressings out of the fridge.

Val has already put the plate of chicken on the table as well as the vegetables. Jenna grabs the big bowl of salad and the serving forks and puts them on the table. She settles into her chair as Val grabs them some drinks.

“How was your day?” he asks as he sits down.

“Good. Babe, there are so amazing dancers to choose from.”

“The industry is getting tougher and tougher.”

“That’s for sure. Gabby and I were talking about that.”

“Is she all settled at you place?”

“Yea. She’s with Brit. They practically pushed me out of the house when I dropped her off.”

“Does that mean you can’t stay over tonight?”

“What?”

“You drove Gabby to rehearsal today. She won’t have a ride if you aren’t there tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, she has a car. We just chose to ride together today. We didn’t see the need to have both cars at the studio. She, in her own way, said to not come back home tonight and she’ll drive herself tomorrow.”

“I like her more and more every day.”

“I knew you would. I’m converting you.”

“Yea, yea.”

“What’s on the plan for tonight?”

“A whole lot of nothing.”

“Mhmm, I like that.”

“I did a whole lot today so a whole lot of nothing sound fabulous.��

“I pulled out our favorite go to movies. Your favorite shirt is on the couch waiting for you.”

“Can I shower?”

“Of course. If you really want to.”

“I’ll be quick. Just a quick washing my body. I promise I won’t even wash my hair.”

“But I like the smell of your shampoo.”

“I don’t have it with me.”

“You know I have some in the bathroom for you. It’s in the closet.”

“True. Alright, a quick wash. Then cuddle and a movie.”

“Sounds like a plan to me but eat up so you have time for that and don’t fall asleep before we get 10 minutes into the movie.”

“I’m not that tired Valentin.”

“You always say that and then fall asleep on me.”

“I’m going to prove you wrong today.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

~

Jenna has just finished her shower. Val is already downstairs waiting for her. She grabs her brush from his vanity and goes to put on her favorite shirt of his and then heads downstairs. He is sitting on the couch on his phone. She comes up behind him and hold out her brush in front of him. He lets out a laugh and grabs the brush from her. He then takes her hand and pulls her around the couch so she is in front of him. She kisses him before sitting down on the floor in front of him. He happily pulls the brush through her hair. It’s one of his favorite things, playing with and brushing her hair.

“Thanks love” Jenna says.

“Anytime, you know that.”

Jenna starts scrolling through her Instagram while he works through her hair. He has already worked out the knots but she knows he’ll keep going until she makes him stop. Her butt usually goes numb by then.

They sit there quietly until suddenly Jenna squeals and practically jumps off the floor to her feet from a sitting position. It startles Val so much that he drops the brush on his foot.

“Ouch! What was that all about? Why are you screaming?”

“Look, look, look!” she says holding out her phone. Val can’t make out what the picture is because Jenna is jumping around squealing with excitement.

“Babe, what are you screaming about?”

“Look!” she says holding her phone out again but he still can’t see it. He reaches out to grab her arm but she bounces away before he could reach her. He moves closer to her and grabs the phone from her hand and finally gets a look at the picture she is squealing about.

“Hey, look at that” he says with a smile.

“That’s all?! That’s all you’re going to say? This is way more exciting than that.”

“Hey, I’m excited. If you’d stand still for a second you’d be able to see that.”

Jenna stops bouncing and finally sees the wide smile on his face. She comes over to him and wraps her arms around his neck. He kisses her as they hug each other happily.

“After all they’ve been through…” Val starts.

“I’m so excited. When things didn’t work…”

“Yea.”

“She gushes so much about him. He’s so sweet. Perfect for her.”

“You always say that after video chats with them.”

“I know but it’s true. Meryl so deserves this. She has worked so hard all her life at everything she does. Fedor and I finally convinced her to get Bilbo. You know he texted me to help him convince her.”

“I know.”

“He has been there rooting for her, waiting for her, through it all. He has loved her through it all, even when she told him she didn’t love him. They deserve this so much. Oh, my goodness Val, I’m so happy.”

“Mhmm, I couldn’t tell.”

“Think I could call her?”

“Aren’t they on vacation?” he asks.

“Yea but…”

“Maybe text her.”

“I have to comment on here first.”

“Ok.”

“Can you text her?”

“What?”

“You text her. See if we can call?”

“Jenna.”

“Fine. I’ll do it. Think Maks saw it?”

“He knew it’d be coming” Val says as he settles on the couch.

“You knew and didn’t tell me! That’s why you weren’t as excited.”

“I didn’t know, Jenna.”

“But you said…”

“No. I said he knew this would be coming. He saw it just like we did. He’s so happy for them. I’m sure it’s a little bitter sweet but I know he’s happy.”

“Bitter sweet?”

“You know, they are both happy now, very happy, but it’s a bit of that what if. What if it had all gone a different way? You know, I feel like that sometimes but…”

“Me too.”

“I’m very happy with how things are now. We would be Aunt Jenna and Uncle Val…”

“Maybe.”

“Well yea, but…”

“Let’s just drop it. I want to call her. Let me text her” Jenna says grabbing her phone back from him. She finally sits down with him on the couch and texts Meryl without a word.

“Don’t be upset if she doesn’t answer or says no.”

“I know but it’s worth a try.”

“I’m going to put a movie on while we wait.”

“No need. She just texted back. She says yes, call. She’s been waiting for our text.”

“You two are a piece of work. Call her.”

“No.”

“What? That’s all you’ve wanted to do. Why don’t you want to call her?”

“I’m Facetiming her.”

“That makes sense. Wait, where are you going?” Val says as Jenna starts walking away from the couch.

“I’m going to change into…”

“Are you kidding me? You think she cares that you are wearing my clothes. You don’t think she doesn’t know us any better than that.”

“Yea but Fedor…”

“He won’t care. You are covered up. It isn’t like you are showing anything.”

“Fine. I really didn’t want to change anyway.”

“Good. Come sit down with me again, love” he says patting the couch next to him. She smiles and cuddles back against his side with her legs off to the side.

Jenna holds out her phone and starts the Facetime with Meryl. As she’s waiting for Meryl to answer, she’s drumming her fingers on his legs. Finally, the call connects and she sees Meryl’s smiling facing.

“Ahh!” Jenna squeals. Meryl squeals right alongside her. Val and Fedor just laugh.

“Congratulations” Val says happily first.

“Thank you” Fedor replies.

“I want to hug you!” Jenna says happily.

“Me too! I miss you” Meryl smiles.

“I miss you too! We really need to get together.”

“I know. Our schedules…”

“I know. It sucks. Ok, show me that ring!”

Meryl turns the phone so it is showing her ring. She turns it a bit on her finger as Jenna gushes all over it. As she does, Jenna is hitting Val’s leg in excitement. He grabs it, holds onto it, sliding his fingers between hers, to keep her from hitting him anymore.

“It’s beautiful Meryl.”

“Thank you” she says and turns the camera back to herself and Fedor. They both have the biggest grins on their faces.

“You did well man. How did you know what to pick?” Val asks.

“She practically told me what she wanted.”

“Well that sure makes it easy. If only…”

“Hey, I’ve given you hints.”

“Oh, are you two…”

“Hey, this is not about us” Jenna cuts in saying. “How does I feel?”

“Amazing yet absolutely normal. I feel like nothing has changed yet everything has changed. I mean, we’ve been together for so long that it just feels so natural. I feel so bad saying this since this is so big but it doesn’t feel that big. Like, it doesn’t feel that different. I already felt like we were at this point but there was just no ring. Now that it’s all real, I guess, it feels so normal already. It feels amazing. I don’t even know how to explain it.”

“May I?” Fedor asks.

“Go ahead babe” Meryl says.

“It feels so normal because it’s just right. We both knew we wanted this. We both knew this was coming. We’d talked about it. Even when we didn’t want to, we talked about it. When we saw that ring, I knew I had to get working, well planning. I knew I had to call your Dad. These past few days have been so normal yet so different. I’m loving the feeling of feeling your ring against my fingers as we hold hands. Everything feels completely normal yet totally different because now everything we do leads up to the day we get married.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to say but just couldn’t…”

“You two are so precious!” Jenna says.

“Thank you” Meryl says turning her smile towards Jenna and Val again. “Sorry we didn’t text you. We decided to just let it soak in first. Then we just posted instead of…”

“Hey, I understand. Don’t stress over it Mer.”

“Sorry. When it’s your turn, you can repay me by…”

“Can’t promise. I think I’ll be texting everyone I know when he finally…”

“Hey, you said not yet” Val cuts in saying.

“I know. I was just kidding. Well kind of. Only about the finally part. Alright, we should let you go. Go enjoy your vacation. We’ve got a whole lot of nothing to do tonight on our schedule.”

“Oh, I remember those nights. Enjoy. We’ll talk to you guys soon.”

“Congratulations again” Val jumps in saying.

“Thank you” Fedor says.

With a smile, Jenna hangs up the phone and puts her phone on the table, cuddling against Val. He reaches for the remote but she stops him.

“Can we watch upstairs so if I fall asleep, you don’t have to carry me?”

“I thought you were going to prove me wrong tonight.”

“Yea, well that was before the excitement of Meryl’s engagement.”

“You are a mess. You need more sleep. Forget the movie. Let’s just go cuddle.”

“Val…”

“I’m not kidding. Come on. Let’s go” he says and picks her up off the couch and carries her to bed.

can you do a story of Valenna reacting to Meryl's engagement post on instagram

[spideychelle-romanogers]

Overdose My Mind With The Things I Love

Making of Michelle Jones - Prologue, Chapter 9

Start from the beginning || Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

After catching Michelle stealing jewels, the new mystery she brings into Peter's life defines his next adventure. There are new dangers coming to NYC and Michelle is playing a bigger part in Spider-Man's mission than Peter ever imagined.

Chapter 9: "At least you have me," Michelle told him, finally looking up from her drawing. They were much closer than he realized, practically whispering despite being so far away from everyone else.

"That's turning out to be enough," he answered.

T/W: none  Beta: Splendid_Splendont  Tags: spideychelle, pan!Peter, demi!Michelle, slow burn

That next Saturday, Michelle was fidgeting with the equipment while Peter wrote in his journal. Michelle really loved the new upgrade to the tunnel for obvious reasons. Meaning it made it easier for her to do homework. However, whenever faced with a tech bug she couldn't fix, she often resorted to beating the gadget into submission. Peter would be more worried if it wasn't so funny.

After just one pat, the headset she was holding kicked in and she started talking into it. Peter could hear her loud and clear. In the far corner, Tony had installed a phone in the lair with a headset for Michelle to speak to Peter while navigating the tunnel's desks. Michelle found the phone itself so strange because it was based off a landline that couldn't be moved. She finally spoke up. "How do I call you?"

"Using that. Directly links you to my suit."

"No, like how do I call you? When I'm not here. If there's an emergency or something happened, how am I supposed to reach you?" Peter never thought about that.

"Use your cell phone?"

"That will trace me to you." She was right. Over the last week the leaked Facebook video of Spider-Man went viral and, as Tony showed him, Michelle's face was the only one that was clear in the footage.

"I will figure something out."

"I already told you I'm not signing off on this whole sidekick thing."

"Please Tony. I don't want her to use her own phone. This suit is still technically under my real number." In and of itself, that was probably compromising enough to his identity. Tony sighed, before gesturing for Peter to follow him. He was taken down the Stark Tower elevator. When they reached the ground floor, they walked out and went in and out of a few convenience stores before they found a large bodega with a small old lady at the register. Surprised at the location, he wondered if the door behind this woman opened up to some tech lab or something. He was excited to see what Tony surprised him with this time until Tony pulled a few small cheap flip phones off a hook he hadn't seen. "These are called burners."

Peter wasn't sure Tony was serious.

"They are prepaid phones that don't leave a trace. They're disposable, cheap, and very handy. They're also very easy to find. You plug in your number, give it a shortcut, tell her to dial asterisk-six-nine before she calls your shortcut. She'll show up as private." Tony overpaid by throwing a few bills on the table to the old lady's surprise. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Peter started piling the phones into his arms, still confused as to how this could be so easy. "Good luck with the girl, Peter."

When Peter turned to say goodbye, Tony was gone. Facing the lady at the register, she gave him change with an amused smile.

Returning later the same day, Peter heard music blasting from the stereo. He figured Michelle finally got it to work. They had been working on theories as to why they would ever need that thing. He was about to ask when he saw her in the middle of the tunnel reading his journal.

"Michelle!" He belted into the tunnel so loud it echoed. She jumped at the noise, but she held the journal like she wasn't doing anything wrong.

"What?"

"What are you doing?!"

"You left this behind. I was curious."

"That is-"

"If you say 'a total invasion of privacy', Spidey, I might have to remind you what brought me here in the first place."

"You can't just read my journal."

"It wasn't labeled!" she defended. "Anyway. It's fine. It was a good read. Here." She handed it back. Peter flipped through it, trying to check that he left his and Spider-Man's names out of it. "You're a great writer. You should write more often." Peter didn't want to accept the compliment. He felt uncomfortable knowing someone had seen his journal.

"Here," He said, handing her the bag of phones unceremoniously. "Use these."

"Burner phones?" Michelle asked immediately. "That was easy." Peter tried not to roll his eyes. Did everyone know how to use these?

"What gave you the idea anyway?" Michelle didn't answer. She sat there quietly, avoiding his eyes and fidgeting with the stereo volume. "Michelle."

"Tomorrow's the surgery." Peter sighed, realizing he probably should have figured that out. Sitting down on the desk next to her, he just waited in silence, knowing she'd share when she felt like it.

"I'm planning for the worst."

"And a call to me would help?"

"I don't think so but it would certainly make me feel better. I could use a friend. You know, if anything-"

"Nothing is going to happen, Michelle."

"I don't like stress. I'm not very good at handling. I can't sit in a waiting room for hours waiting for bad news. I don't think I can do it." Peter didn't know how to help, but he had an idea of how to distract her.

"When he's inside, call me."

"What?"

"When your father goes in for the surgery, just give me a call." Michelle looked doubtful, but Peter ushered her out. He really believed things would turn out okay. Michelle deserved so much better than life was giving her, the least fate could do was throw her a bone. Having her father's back fixed would be a life changer. He'd be able to go back to work, she'd be a little happier. He'd do everything to see her through to that. It just meant coming up with a few distractions to hold her during the wait.

Within minutes of her call, Peter was at the hospital. He had expected to be at a smaller clinic but whatever corporation it was offering this procedure had to outsource an operating room from a local hospital. Michelle sounded quite shaken about that but Peter was too concerned about keeping her spirits up. He told her to meet him on the roof of the hospital, which he knew she wouldn't like but she agreed anyway. He waited for her there, knowing the elevator, locked door, and stairs would get her there in just the same amount of time that it took him to get there from the bridge.

"I don't like it up here," She said as soon as he arrived.

"I had an idea. We're going to conquer fear today."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are getting over your fear of heights."

"What? Spidey, my dad is downstairs. I can't just leave."

"They have to call you if anything happens, right?"

"Yes."

"You won't be useful to anyone trapped in that waiting room. We won't go far. I'll make sure you can get there faster than it would take you to walk up to the front desk."

"...I don't like heights," She repeated, hoping to change his mind. She was feeling shaky just being there.

"Do you trust me, Michelle?"

"Yes."

"I do this everyday, all day. We'll start small and if you really hate it we'll stop and walk or buy snacks or something." Michelle bit her lip, nervously glancing back at the staircase she took up. After a long minute, she started nodding. So Peter took her hand and jumped onto the roof right next to the building. It was a short fourteen inch gap. "If you fall, which you won't, I can just catch you. I've never dropped anyone."

"Yet."

"I won't drop you." Michelle took about ten minutes of coaxing but eventually she jumped. Peter drew out a bridge of web to the next roof. It was a one foot wide bridge, Michelle had no risk in walking on it but it took another few minutes of convincing her. As scared as she was, he could tell she wasn't thinking about her father. Fear had a way of drowning out the noise, just as bravery did. Michelle got more bold with every step. He drew out a half foot wide bridge over a twenty-foot gap after an hour of this game. Michelle didn't even look down.

The fear was becoming more fun with every step, and Peter drew up new challenges for her, like angled rooftops and inclines. She slipped once, but he caught her before she could go very far. She screamed for a while, even hyperventilated. Then she was laughing every time she almost fell, like she was embracing her own fear and finding humor in it. Once again, Michelle was as invincible as the day he met her.

Two hours passed that way. They didn't even talk much, Peter just watched her and Michelle would just scream bloody murder when she was afraid. He took her in his arms at one point and just started swinging between the buildings over the busy street. In a weird way, it was fun.

Eventually, Peter tied a web between two buildings to hang them uninterrupted under the stars, over an alleyway. They sat there, Michelle taking some time to get used to the feeling of being suspended in midair. She kept poking at the web as if it would undo itself.

"I can't believe Tony invented this for you." Peter chuckled at her.

"I invented the web," He confessed. "Tony made some new designs for it, but it's still my baby." He actually felt really happy to get to tell somebody that.

"Is that what you like to do, then? Invent things?"

"It's all I want to do." Michelle stopped staring through the web and finally turned to him.

"Who are you, Spider-Man?" Peter swallowed.

"What happened to respecting the secret identity?"

"I don't want to know your name. Who are you?" she asked again. "What is your life like? Is this the only life you have? What do you do?" Peter didn't even know where to begin, but she was smiling and she wasn't checking her phone for news. All he could do was use the momentum and keep her distracted.

"I'm actually not much older than you." Michelle raised her eyebrows. "Really."

"So like, 20s?"

"No, I'm in high school."

"My age?"

"Basically." Michelle was quiet for a really long time, but she stared at him as if processing something.

"That's nuts." Peter laughed like she was joking. "No, you're really too young for this," She said, her tone firm.

"Don't say that."

"I can't imagine doing what you do. Doesn't that get to you?"

"No. I'm living my dream. Using my invention, being a hero." Peter hoped Michelle would believe him. He didn't know how to explain how much being Spider-Man completed him. He gestured at the webshooters, showing her their mechanics under the cloth of the suit. "The new suit does help, though."

She took his arm for a second, looking at them more closely. "I can't imagine anyone my age making those. I go to a science and tech school. I don't think any of them could make anything like this."

"Really?" Peter had to get better at not laughing at things that aren't funny out of context. Michelle looked up at him before continuing.

"You would probably love it."

"And you don't?"

"I'm more of a literature and history kind of girl, and I want to be a lawyer."

"So why do you go?"

"It's a charter school. Free and specialized education. Might as well. I'm not bad at science either, it's just not my interest. It doesn't make it any easier to make friends, though. How about you?"

"I like school. I have maybe two really good friends. My best friend doesn't know about this." Peter tried to think of a question to ask that would make it seem more like he didn't know her. "And you?"

"Well, like I said before I don't really have any-" Before Peter could think anything of her words, she changed her mind as she started sketching into his journal. He'd brought it to her as a peace offering but she didn't read it anymore. "I mean there is this one kid. He's always looking out for me. He's a good friend. Probably the only real friend I have there. I could never imagine telling him about this, so I can understand. The biggest fear is just whether it'd put them in danger."

"Exactly," Peter answered.

"At least you have me," Michelle told him, finally looking up from her drawing. They were much closer than he realized, practically whispering despite being so far away from everyone else.

"That's turning out to be enough," He answered. Peter had a problem with staring. this time, he couldn't look Michelle in the eyes very long. He looked down to her sketch. "What did you come up with this time?"

She presented it to him proudly. An oval face with a cleft chin, deep eyes, wide lips, defined jaw. Hazel eyes, dark brown hair, light skin. "Am I close?"

"A little closer this time but it's still not there." She turned the page and tried again.

"Would we have gotten along if we met? Like on the street?"

"Maybe. I don't think you'd like me very much."

"Probably not," she joked. She moved and shifted the web, scaring herself. "I can't imagine living like this every day. Being able to fly like you do."

"I don't fly."

"Don't you?" They were awkwardly quiet for a moment before Michelle spoke up. "Don't you feel like you have the weight of the world on you? I mean, you're a hero. Doesn't that get lonely?"

"You have no idea."

"Maybe I do," Michelle said. Looking at her, Peter could feel how close they were suddenly. It was enough to make him blush as he realized he really didn't mind the feeling. He didn't have an answer for her, but their eyes were meeting and even through the mask it was like they completely understood each other.

If someone asked him what would have happened if they didn't get the notification about the robbery in that moment, Peter wouldn't have a good answer for them.

"211S. Bank robbery - 34th and 3rd. Silent alarm triggered by guard, backup requested."

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[candy-corps]

Unplugged

Bahadir belongs to @bahadir-wintergreen

My character has been playing a video game for 13 hours straight! Send me a  ☠ for their reaction to your character pulling the plug on the game.

Dae kept staring at the screen for a couple seconds more until he realized something was really off here. Off. The tv was off. “No… ” He turned around to see the elfman with the plug still in his hand. “What … what are you doing” Dae asked, a little devastated. “I … didn’t … When did I safe … What day is it … “

“>I have no idea when you safed and I don´t care when you did it,” Bahadir shook his head, “But look at yourself! It was high time! ….And by the way, …I need to open the windows now ….And you need a shower! Maaaan!” The elf held his nose.

“What? This is my job? I’m a game tester, don’t judge - oh okay.” Dae sniffed at himself and admit Bahadir may have a point. “Maybe judge. Uuurgh .. ” he moaned and leaned back on the couch while rubbing the bridge of his nose. He forgot how addicting oldschool games could be …

“Pffft! You are not!” Bahadir dropped the cable, went to the window and opened the curtains to let some daylight in, “And now be honest! I left 5 days ago. Since when are you here? And why did my landlady didn´t notice you?”

Dae covered his eyes with the palms of his hands. He could feel the cool air enter the room and curled his wings around his frame to shield himself a bit. “To be honest? Maybe because her hearing’s bad. Maybe because I came in through the window. Maybe because I’m not her for 5 days.” He guessed. He’d have to eat at some point, after all.

“It’s just gonna be one of the mistery’s in life." The game controller landed in the couch next to him as Dae stood up and stretched his arms out, just to hide these again a second later beneath the small cover his wings granted. To be honest … ? He thought he should give Amelia a call. He totally forgot the time, and didn’t want her to worry.

Bahadir looked baffled at the odd kid. He had completely forgot to wonder, why the boy was actually in his apartment. What did he want here? The whole thing didn´t make much sense to the elf. And beside this, he had the feeling that he knew the kid. Sighing the elf walked forward towards the kid.

“Ok, why the hell are you here? Not because you needed a hideout to play your video games. So?” Bahadir felt a bit annoyed. He had wanted to relax after his jouney and not dealing with an unannounced visitor.

Dae huffed a laugh at that. “Well actually, because I needed a hideout to play videogames in. This has no multiplayer and Amelia would keep molesting me when I had to concentrate.” Which was the reason why he didn’t even try to play the game at home. That and … he wasn’t too sure if his tv was even suitable to play x-box games on. He needed one with a somewhat okay resolution.

“Uh. not your Amelia” he made clear and turned to look at Bahadir. His eyes narrowed. He still had to get used to the actual brightness in the room, not just the one of the screen. “ … although yours … maybe too.” No, no. Playing at home hadn’t ended any well.

Bahadir narrowed his eyes as well, but not because of the sudden light. The elf pressed his lips together and clenched his fists. Dae had poked in a still sore wound when he mentioned Amelia´s name in a seemingly not neutral context. He couldn´t help, he reacted kind of sensitive concerning this. And he wasn´t in the mood to be teased and derided.

“She´s not my Amelia,” Bahadir snapped and turned around to his stereo and picked one of the cd´s that were pieled up beside the equipment. The elf was tired and not very fond of having company at the moment. And the fact that Dae had been so perky to break into his home, his sphere of privacy actually annoyed Bahadir a lot.

"I´d like to be alone now. I had a few busy days,” the elf said reserved and put a cd into the player, “I´m tired and want to chill.”

It was an advantage to have a cloth-eared landlady and when the track started, Bahadir hoped, that Dae didn´t share his taste of music and that he was able to shoo him off.

“But … - ” Dae yawned. God, for how long was he here? He dug in his pocket and cecked the time on his phone. Oh damn. His ears laid back as the thing Bahadir called music roared through the room, but Dae stayed still calm. “Your dimension’s Amelia.” Well wasn’t someone a ray of sunshine today? Dae frowned, remembering Bahadir a little politer … maybe he really had a couple harsh days, though.

“There’s two, I brought mine here. Jeesus Christ” he commented the music eventually - it wasn’t exactly getting better. But it wasn’t his to judge, really. Dae went back to the tv, unplugging the x box to put it in the backpack be brought.

“Hmmm,” Bahadir grumbled and took off his boots. It seemed as if Dae really didn´t like his taste of music even though Carcass wasn´t his favorite band, he wouldn´t stop the music. The elf watched the boy storing away his x-box and decided to be clement and grabbed to remote to turn down the volume a bit.

“Not my Amelia. …No matter from which dimension?” Bahadir let the remote drop on the nightstand and sat down on the bed, “Why did you say  `… although yours … maybe too´ ? What did that mean? And why did you bring the Amelia from your dimension to this? It causes only trouble. Unnecessary trouble.”

"She visits from time to time and makes the one from my dimension act all territorial.” Dae smiled at that. Sure it was strange, but still a good kind of it. He stood up and put the backpack on his back, then scanned the room for any things he might have forgotten. “I’m not sorry for bringing her here? It was the lesser evil, compared to the fact that she was getting stabbed by paladins back home” Dae explained.

“Well nice,” Bahadir said toneless and shrugged, finally turning off the music to choose another cd, “You´re a lucky boy. All the attention you get. I´m almost a bit …envious?”  The elf stood  with his back to Dae arranging a few cds, so that his visitor couldn´t see his face and how he pressed his lips together.

“Stabbed by paladins? I thought she was a ghost and couldn´t be killed. At least not really. But of course she can …somehow, but she appears later again, doesn´t she? So why worry? …and beside this …Why didn´t you stay there and protect Amelia from the paladins. You could have defeated them …like a hero.” Bahadir still didn´t turn around.

“ … or … get stabbed too and actually die. You do know I am half human? There is just so much I can take, so I gotta play a little bit unfair.” He had all the things, he was sure of that, but still Dae stood in the room with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“When there’s any trouble I can help you with … ” he started, wearing a frown while he studied Bahadir’s back.

Bahadir huffed when he heard Dae´s last words. Help ??? This guy wasn´t serious, was he? What exactely did he want from him?

The elf turned around and looked Dae over, eyes narrowed and a not really amused countenance.

“Help me?” Bahadir asked baffled, “Help me with what?”

“You tell me” Dae gave back. Maybe it was because he saw things still unclear from spending too much time in front of the tv, maybe it was the unemployment and the fact he had no other job than being a hero … but something seemed to be off.

Bahadir narrowed his eyes until only two blue glowing slits where left. He gasped and let out a scornful chuckle while he leaned forward, looking Dae up and down. Cocking his head he came pretty close to the boy´s face though he barely could stand the smell of the unwashed body.

“Help…Hah!” Bahadir´s voice didn´t sound like usual. Not soft and deep …More like the growl of an animal when he continued, “Help? ….Listen, boy …I don´t want your help…. I don´t need your help. I´m able to help myself …That´s what I always did and will always do.” The elf lifted his chin and cocked his head once again, “If you want to help somebody, go back to your Amelia´s and help them instead? I´m sure they´ll appreciate that.” the elf still starred at Dae, straightened himself and placed his ars akimbo, “I think, it´s time to leave for you now,” the elf said and leaned back, “Leave me alone now. I´m tired and need to relax and sleep….And for that …I don´t need your company right now. Leave now!” The elf looked Daed straight in the eye. And don´t come back again, he added silently.

"A ‘thank you no thank you’ would have sufficed” Dae replied and shook his head, still the calm in person. Bahadir behaved strange. Jealously was the first that came Dae to mind, but maybe he was simply tired and sleepy or something. He didn’t take him by the word, therefore, and was sure to visit again; tomorrow, maybe.

“Sweet dreams” he said as good byes and made his way to the door. He could sneak past the old lady living downstairs without any problems, for sure.

Bahadir starred stonily at Dae and listend to those last words. Did the boy wanted to take him for a fool again or was he just stubborn. The elf looked him up and down and hesitated for a while when Dae turned around to go. Just a minute …the boy wanted to leave on his own. Nope! Bahadir wasn´t ready to let the uninvited guest walk around his house on his own. The elf rushed forward and grabbed Dae´s arm. “You don´t mind if I accompain you to the door,” he asked and dragged th boy out in the hall and down the stairs. The elf didn´t care if his landlady might get aware of them. …Probably she was elsewhere or too busy…. A bit harsh, he shoved Dae through the frontdoor. “Go home,” the elf said, “And leave me alone! Everyone shall leave me alone!” Bahadir shut the door and leaned against the frame.

“So … gonna come back tomorrow then … ” Dae warned Bahadir in advance, though he wasn’t too sure if the elf would hear him through the door. What’s been happening to the guy, Dae asked himself. That wasn’t as polite of a behaviour he was used to from him …

Bahadir had heard Dae´s words. The elf leaned against the closed door and starred down at the floor. Did he want to meet the boy again. Bahadir had been so angry about the boy´s cheeky behaviour …and mentioning Amelia had only being the topping. Right now, Bahadir just wanted to be alone and not thinking about everything. Yes, probably the next day, everything might look different. He just had to wait …But he had no hope, that anything might went out better.

Gloomily and tired, Bahadir went back upstairs. He needed sleep right now. Just sleep.