#aLSO I KNOW YESTERDAY WAS PATCHES’ BIRTHDAY FUCK OFF

[le-agent-egg]

og god oh fuck theres 6 of them

they are all smelly homosexuals (except Daiya he’s just smelly)

once more me and @sp11ked share custody of them

tags will have ships first and the names second

[reelaroundthedavekan]

So the last week and a half has been filled with some not fun stuff, culminating in Return to Office today. I just need to type all this out so please do not feel obligated to read any of this.

Let me explain in bullet list form...

We had a lovely christmas morning with waffles and a few presents

On christmas afternoon, Peter was on his way to his car when he slipped on a patch of ice, landed badly and broke his leg (fibula, mostly, tibia less so but still). [he is doing ok now, spoiler alert]

It certainly could have been worse, luckily he did not hurt his back or head, but he really fucked up his fibula, pardon my bellicosity.

At the time, we were hoping it was sprained as initially there was no swelling or bruising and he wasn't in a lot of pain and we decided we didn't need to spend christmas night in the ER.

On Boxing day we took him to the urgent care, because it had swollen and bruised overnight. We got to sit in the waiting room for 1.5 hours and watch The Santa Clause 2 (which is a really weird movie as it turns out). We then got to go back to a room and wait for the Dr and x-rays...and got to watch the Santa Clause 2 again.

The Dr came in, took a glance at his ankle and she said "oh that looks broken", so our hopes of sprain were gone quickly.

X-rays confirmed a nasty spiral break of the fibula and a smaller fracture of the tibia. It is usually not good when the Dr says "I haven't seen a break like that before".

She put on a splint and wrapped the hell out of it, sent us home with crutches and referred us to an Ortho Trauma office. Luckily it was the office of a Dr that my mom (long time Orthopedic OR Nurse) had worked with.

My mom was able to call him and he called us back very quickly, which was great because he was on vacation for the week. My mom has pull. He was able to look at the x-rays and also commented on how bad the break was. Talked Peter through everything and had his scheduling coordinator call us. Surgery was schedule for Tuesday, January 2nd...

...which happened to be Peter's 21st birthday [sad trombone]

So the week was spent trying keep him comfortable, managing the pain, figuring how to shower and keep the splint dry.

Yesterday morning he went to the DMV to get his new license and then we were off to the hospital. We got there at 10:15 AM and we left at about 5 PM. The surgery went great (a plate and 9 screws) and we got him home. He'll be in a splint for 2 more weeks and then after the sutures come out will switch to a boot and possibly one of those rollie knee scooters.

He goes back to campus on the 16th, follow up appointment is the 18th. Hopefully he will be able to get around OK.

And then today I got to go into the office and work (Mon/Wed/Thur in office, Tue/Fri at home). I know it is not necessarily a big deal, but I have been working from home for almost 20 years, so it is a weird thing for me.

Plus it is at a very large company with a lot of people all going back at the same time. I haven't sat at a cubicle for closer to 25 years and to have this many people around me all making a lot of noise was really jarring. I don't like it and I am not going to like it and I will be grumpy about it for a while.

[shotorozu]

TITLE : hospital stay

PAIRING : bakugou katsuki x reader

SYNOPSIS : you’re in the hospital on your boyfriend’s birthday, and bakugou seems to have no issue with spending it in there.

WARNING(S) : MHA MANGA SPOILERS ‼️ (recent arc)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, a quirk similar to the avatar but that’s about it.

note(s) : so, it’s bakugou’s birthday. and i had this idea since march 20 😦 so i’ve been waiting for his birthday to come for literally a month but i didn’t want to post this way too early. alsooo i don’t know if this arc happened near spring but lets pretend it did for the sake of the story

When you woke up, the fluorescent lights were the first to hit your face

Following by the incoming beeping of a monitor, and the sudden throbbing of your head, the dryness of your throat evident.

Blinking slowly (or trying to, your other eye being a bit delayed.) you try recalling what just happened. You’re in a hospital, that’s one thing you know, but the specifics are still unknown to you.

Right. You remember now, you were fighting along side your classmates, and you managed to get blasted away when you thought that shielding Bakugou Katsuki would work. Yeah, you were sure that you were going to get an earful from him, if he—

You jolt when you notice said blond standing right next to your bed, vermillion eyes staring deep into your own, and somewhat— you could feel the weight and intensity in the stare

“S-since when did you get here?” You’re startled, and your voice is hoarse. Bakugou doesn’t formulate a response, and chooses to avoid the question as a whole.

“Finally you’re up.” He rolls his eyes. He looks much better than you remembered, despite having a few bandages on his forehead— he looked well. “It’s been 5 fucking days.”

“Five days?” You question out loud, your sense of time all disorganized. You clench your hand, just to see if your quirk was still working. Seeing air, fire, water, and just.. something, would relieve your worries— but a look from the blond shot you down quickly. You decided that it was wise if you didn’t try.

The blond seems to be done with the conversation, since he immediately walks out of the room. Actually, why was he here? You’d expect him to be laying down in bed, but despite being hit with that beam, he was walking around like everything was fine.

He comes back with a few other nurses, and they’re relieved to see that you’re awake— and even though they’ve bombarded you with questions with how you felt, you couldn’t brush off the feeling of a pair of ruby eyes on you.

Just, glaring. It’s nothing abnormal.

When the nurses finally leave you alone, giving you details of a few injuries— like your injured— well, burned eyelid that honestly stung (it came from the fire aspect of your quirk) you would’ve expected to be alone in your hospital room for the rest of your time there but Bakugou stayed.

“You’re going to tell me why you jumped in front of me?”

You were expecting to be questioned by him, after all— what you did didn’t exactly shield him, since he was also pierced. You didn’t expect the interrogation to be happening this soon

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to fucking know.” And he suddenly changes his mind, just like that.

You would’ve said impulse as an answer, but you doubt that he would’ve taken that seriously. And besides, you were kind of glad he changed midway that he didn’t want your answer. Your voice feels parched, despite chugging down a glass of water earlier.

“Did you check up on Deku?” You cringe when you hear cracks in your voice, and the dryness is unbearable to your throat, but he nods. “Idiot’s knocked out cold.”

He doesn’t mention the fact that you were one of the last few people that were still rendered unconscious.

“Your throat sounds like the sahara desert. Do me a favor and drink up.”

You blink owlishly at the glass of water that was set on the mini table, and when you drink up— it actually does something to relieve (temporarily) the dryness.

It was a consequence of your quirk after all, using your quirk too much would cause your body to feel sore, and everywhere to feel dry, and he knew that.

Bakugou was acting uncharacteristically, and you just don’t know why. Maybe it’s not so uncharacteristic of him, since he’s been less of an asshole as of recently, but you know that he would probably deviate from the question if you asked, so the both of you sat in silence.

—

It’s the next day, the same as yesterday— except it looked like dawn when you woke up. Bakugou also appeared at the side of your bed once again, almost as if he was there for quite some time.

“Nice to see you too,” You think to yourself, and you’re glad you didn’t actually say that out loud. You try to stand up straight, but Bakugou’s quick to push your back against the pillows.

“Don’t sit up, that’s idiotic.”

“Right, sorry. How did you get here? Isn’t it too early?” The parched throat came back. Though the ‘magical’ baku-water helped, it’s effects were only temporarily, sadly.

“You call 7am early?” Right, because for him— 7am isn’t that early, you even remember seeing him up at 6 sometimes.

“Actually, wait.” You blink, trying to recall what day it was, and what month it was. You recalled it being spring but.. was it March? or was it April already?

“What.. day is it today?”

It was almost like he was hesitant to say, “..April 20.”

“What the— April 20?” You’re appalled, because the last time you remembered, it wasn’t anywhere near April 20, but maybe it’s your 5 day unconsciousness to be blamed. “Isn’t it your birthday?”

“Shut up,” He mumbles, and he shifts around the room in search of something, but it’s too dim to be able to tell.

“Medicine. The nurses said you should take it now.”

You don’t reply.

“It’s for your Sahara desert throat. The other things are for your fucked up eye and injuries.”

That seems to be enough to convince you to take the medicine, and despite wanting to run away screaming from the bitterness, you take the medicine— not wanting to be met with any consequences

“Why are you spending your birthday here?”

“Do idiots like you ask that many questions?” He shoots back, and you’re unfazed by the fact that he just called you an idiot. You wouldn’t blame him.

“No but.. you seem fine.”

“A few days ago I was not, but now I am because I took medicine.” He walks over to untwist a few medicine caps, it appears to be for your eye.

“So, Does my eye look fine?” You bat your eyelashes just to mess with him, and he flicks your forehead with an ointment cap “No.”

“Sorry, sorry,” You laugh, choosing to completely ignore the sudden sharp pain when you laugh.

He bends down to reach eyelevel, “Can you see?”

“Sorta.” Your eye has this thin blur filter to it, that can’t be good— can it? Going blind in one eye, and having to wear an eye patch.

It was almost on cue, because Bakugou says “You’ll be rocking the pirate look if you don’t take your medicine,” Instead of handing the medicine for you to apply, he quickly applies a decent amount around your eyes— not giving you a warning whatsoever.

You wince slightly, but you’re glad it’s over. But why is he playing nurse with you? And why was he brushing off the fact that it’s literally his birthday.

—

Through out the entire day, Bakugou continued to act as if he had some responsibility over you. From helping you put on your medicine, to just monitoring you with eyes of a hawk. The fact that he chose to ignore all your protests was just a part of him.

His behavior was also very.. interesting. It would swing from being his usual self, to being this eerily quiet and calm Bakugou. You would’ve guessed that you were having a fever dream, if it weren’t for the fact that he wore his usual scowl on his face.

What remained consistent, despite it all— was that he stayed. He ate lunch in your room. He only left when the doctors and nurses asked him too, but that was only temporary. He stayed with you the entire day, even when the clock stroke 5pm.

But it’s quite literally his birthday? Why would he spend it in a hospital room with some extra? Or idiot? Let alone, why would he take care of said idiot/extra on his birthday? You don’t know because he refuses to tell you on why he spent it here.

“Did you at least get some cake or something?” You ask for the umpteenth time, Bakugou’s paced back and forth for some medicine bottles and bottles of water, and you could tell that he was scowling, despite the fact that he was facing the other direction, “Why the hell would I want cake? You’ve been asking weird shit all day.”

“Because it’s your birthday? Seriously— have you been brainwashed into thinking that it’s not your birthday?”

“What— fuck no. I haven’t been brainwashed.” He turns over to you, “I know today is my birthday.”

“Okay, so you know. Why aren’t you celebrating then? Did people forget? Or am I finally going insane?”

Bakugou chooses to stay silent. He stands up, and walks over to you— everytime he moves closer, you could feel your heart pound, luckily not at a dangerous rate.

“Birthday, birthday, birthday” He grumbles, quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. “That’s all you’ve been talking about. As if like you weren’t the one in the hospital bed as we speak.”

“Okay, is it wrong to remember your birthday?”

“Shut up, I didn’t say that.” He gets closer once again, almost to the point that your faces weren’t that far away.

“You’ve just been so concerned about my damn birthday, that you haven’t even taken a good look at yourself,” He gestures at you, by looking you up and down

You finally take observation of all of the gauzes, the IV tubes, and bandages, his words forcing you to look at what was reality.

“I don’t know why you did what you did, jumping in front of me like some kind of heroic bastard, it’s dumb. For all I know, I should be screaming at you, and wishing you the worst for that.” He clenches his fist when he recalls, the scene replaying in his head

“But what I am saying is that, you can give me a gift if you’re so fucking concerned about my birthday. It’s the least you can do.” His statement is solid enough for you to take him seriously. You wouldn’t have if he was scowling, but it’s quite.. different. An expression you’ve seen all day, but seeing it up close is a different story.

“And that would be..?” You gulp, anticipation bubbles

And just like that, he presses his lips against yours, the warmth of his lips sending shocks of warmth all around your body— the impact was abrupt, but the kiss as a whole was surprisingly gentle

Yet, it was also similar to his quirk, it sparked up spurs of need and sent goosebumps all over your body.

You place a hand on his shoulder, the tubes around your arms making it too difficult to wrap your arms around him as you deepened the kiss, Bakugou’s touch is cautious when he lays his hand on a spot that was the least affected, aware of your injuries. Pushing the small of your back with his hand quite gently, he kisses you like it’ll be the very last— even though you both know it won’t be.

When you both pull back, you’re taken aback— unable to think of coherent words, and a proper response.

But this damn bastard, he smirks at you knowing that he just sent shocks and explosions of intense feelings all around your body, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Wait, that’s unfair!”

“What?”

“I had no idea you even liked me!”

“For the fucking longest time I did, why the hell would I even be in some extras room, if I didn’t care about them?!” He tries not to yell too loudly but, the tone of his voice gets raised

You blink, “And you preferred playing nurse with your crush this entire time, instead of spending it properly like well.. everyone else?”

“Who the hell said— Fucking hell, do I have to kiss you again for you to understand?”

“Enlighten me,” Your mouth quirks up into a smile, which ultimately causes his cheeks to be set ablaze.

“Playing fucking nurse with you isn’t horrible. It’s one way to spend my birthday, even when you give me shit about it” His brows press together, trying to drown out his flustered expressions with a scowl, “There’ll be more birthdays to come, so why would I be ‘wasting’ it here? There, that’s it. You happy now?”

Silence.

“..More than happy. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your thing for playing nur—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that thought,” He says stern. “I’m going to get the nurses to check on you, and then— I’ll go home and come back again, tomorrow.”

He storms off, and when the blond is sure that he’s not in your line of vision anymore— he slumps against the wall

“Fucking hell, they’re driving me crazy.” He mumbles, recalling what he had pulled off earlier.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[pinkteapotwriting]

Happy Birthday Remus part 2

Part one Happy Birthday Remus!

Warning : Smut, this is just smut. Minors DNI, Switch!Sirius x Dom!Remus x Sub!Reader

Edging, slight over stimulation kinda idk, oral, food mention and I think that’s all of it

Wolfstar x Fem!reader

Summary : Sirius is mad about the little stunt Remus had you pull the day prior, so he breaks Remus’s rules and plays with you how he sees fit. 

Word count :1826

---

You awoke to the sun gently sweeping across your face as you separate yourself from Sirius’s chest. The only thing that could be brighter than that hazy yellow pouring in is the smile you gave while looking at Remus spooning Sirius. His arms wrapped around him tight, like the only security blanket left in the world. Not wanting to interrupt the sweet sight you got up to go get ready by yourself. 

Your legs were quite tender from the night before, not that you were complaining. You made your way to the bathroom to start your routine, but when you stepped over the edge of the tub to take a shower your sore legs betrayed you. With a not too painful, but still solid plop you hit the floor landing on your bum. 

“Ow.”

“Y/N?” A voice resounded in concern.

The sound of rushed pattering made its way to the bathroom. 

“Y/N! Love are you alright?” This time you could tell it was Sirius who asked.

Giggling the whole time you responded, “I’m okay I promise! My legs are just sore from last night.” 

Sirius gave a huff as a reply and simply walked past to fill the tub as an alternative for your certain destruction, while Remus scratched the back of his head and mumbled his apologies before retreating briefly.

Sirius pulled you from the floor and set himself in the tub with you nestled in front of him. You tilted your head back against his shoulder in absolute bliss as he rubbed his hands up and down your thigh.

“Y/N love?”

“Yes darling?”

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know you enjoy being submissive, but last night taught me not to take advantage of that. Please remember to let me know if I’m pushing your limits.”

“Baby, we have a safe word for a reason! I love you so so much and appreciate you checking in. I promise to let you know if you ever make me uncomfortable. There’s no hard feelings and to be quite honest I definitely prefer when you boys dominate me.”

You shivered as one of his hands wrapped around your waist while the other enclosed around your throat pulling your ear to his hypnotic lips. 

“Well that’s good to hear, cause I’d be remiss if I didn’t get to leave you absolutely decimated tonight after your little show yesterday.”

The twang of pleasure that shot straight to your core only increased when the hand that rested on your waist found its way to your clit. 

“Yeah, yesterday you talked a big game, but it looks like you’re already dripping for me puppy.”

You whined softly, but were quickly muted when Sirius’s hand engulfed the lower half of your face. He knew Remus’s rules quite well and touching what belonged to him without permission would certainly get him in trouble. However, the prospect of teasing you all day, toying with Remus’s precious puppy under his nose was thrilling. In short he loved making you squirm. So he wasn’t about to let you ruin his fun so soon.

“None of that now, Moony would hear and ruin our fun for touching you without permission. If you want to cum at all today you’ll be a good puppy and keep your mouth shut and obey. Are we understood?”

You nodded weakly already so close to your release. 

“Aw baby your legs are shaking bet you’re close huh, does my pretty girl wanna cum?”

You let out a muffled yes against his hand and he just chuckled. “Too bad I can hear Remmy coming up the stairs, maybe another time. Remember to be a good puppy.”

Before you even got the chance to pout Sirius released his grip and went back to rubbing your thighs while Remus entered holding a tray with three cups of tea and three plates of leftover chocolate cake. 

“Sorry love, I just thought it would be nice if we had breakfast in the bath.”

“Good thinking Rem, less moving around for her that way. What do you say sweetheart?”

You did your best to hide your guilt and smiled sweetly at the man you adored. 

“Thank you Remmy.”

He just smiled back at you and disrobed so he could join you all in the bath. Sirius didn’t dare make a move while Remus was there and he was much better at hiding the previous occurrence. You couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable since last night wasn’t exactly gentle and Sirius made sure you were extra sensitive to any touch. You were puddy in his hands, perfectly malleable and so in your tired bleary mind state you only craved to do what was asked of you. Despite it being a conflict of interest between obeying Remus, and obeying Sirius. 

(Remus is clearly the big boss around here, anyway) 

---

Luckily it was a Sunday so you had nowhere else to be, but it was also just as unfortunate considering Sirius would be able to keep you in his clutches. Every time Remus left the room he had his hands on you. Sirius made sure you were adorned in his biggest t-shirt (your usual lounge wear) so he could have easy access without arousing suspicion. His hands always found the most delicate places while his mouth wreaked havoc on your even more so delicate mind. 

“Be quiet sweetheart, don’t want Remus to find out you’re not his good girl, his obedient little puppy.”

“Bet you’re just desperate to cum, I can’t even keep count of how many times I’ve edged you today.”

“Beg and maybe I’ll be generous, come on pup beg for it”

Of course it didn’t matter how many times you would cry out, only for it to be muffled by his hand. He was not planning on giving you what you so desperately needed anytime soon. Sirius loved the sounds he’d pull from you. He was just such a glutton for your punishment. The prospect of breaking Remus’s rules thrilled him, that he was touching what didn’t belong to him. He knew he was risking punishment, but the feeling of you clenching desperately around his fingers only spurred him on.

Meanwhile Remus was confused by your jumpiness and reaction to touch. You had never been like this the day after. Usually all you wanted was to be held and take it easy, but you basically rejected his touch and he was so afraid that he pushed your boundaries too far last night. Poor Remus wasn’t aware of that tight coil in your stomach that Sirius had created, that made any lingering touch almost put you in overload.

You were all settled on the couch and little to his knowledge under the blanket you had covering your lap Sirius was slipping his cock between your wet folds. Course you knew your only job was to sit still and keep him warm, but that didn’t make it any more uncomfortable. You had been denied orgasm time and time again with just his fingers and now his dick was buried deep inside you and you weren’t allowed to move. It was infuriating. 

“Y/N, love? Can you come and cuddle me now please? I’m getting cold over here.”

Sirius’s grip tightened on your waist as a low warning, so you were forced to hang your head and shake your head no.

“Sweetheart did I do something to hurt you last night. Please I feel like you’ve been off all day. If I caused you pain in any way I’ll never forgive myself. What can I do to make it up to you.”

In a rush you got up and straddled Remus’s thigh. You just couldn’t take it anymore and started clutching his shirt and nuzzling your tear filled face side to side against his chest.

“Puppy what’s wrong, what did I do?”

You only shook your head and started rutting against his thigh. Your body acting of its own volition answering for you. 

“Darling hey hey hey slow down what’s going on.” He glanced down and his eyebrows raised at the sight. You were absolutely soaking and he had the new wet patch on his pants to prove it. 

“Daddy I need to cum so bad it hurts.”

He then made eye contact with a very guilty looking Sirius, then decided your needs were much more important than whatever Sirius had to say, he’d deal with him later. 

“What’s wrong precious, what happened pretty girl”

“Siri-” you choked out a sob, “Siri told me he wouldn’t let me cum and he said I wasn’t your good girl and- and daddy it hurts in my belly I need to cum so bad.”

“Oh Y/N you’re always my good girl, my precious pup. Do you want Daddy to make you feel all better? Siri is just a meanie come on let’s go to the bedroom.”

---

Remus had you sprawled out on the bed, making sure your head was supported by Sirius’s lap. His head was between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. Your incessant mewls and whines broke his concentration.

“Come on what do you want love Daddy can fix it for you. Do you want Daddy’s cock?”

You managed a pitiful nod and soon enough your wish was granted. 

Remus kept a steady pace as your fingernails clawed into Sirius’s legs. He could tell by your trembling you were so close.

“Fuck Y/N” Sirius groaned, “I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to make you wait so long, but you look so pretty fucked out like that. You’re such a good girl waiting so patiently”

“That’s right puppy, you’re such a good girl taking my cock so well, come on love cum for me.”

As the sweet relief of your climax finally being within reach you sobbed in ecstasy. Your orgasm left you breathless as  the immense pleasure could rival a tidal wave crashing over you. Remus would normally chase his own high, but you had been overstimulated enough so instead he pulled out and stroked his length while eyeing Sirius angrily. Sirius gulped.

Even in your exhausted state you still could use the manners they trained you to have. 

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Of course good girls always get to come. Not selfish gits who break my rules though. Tell me pup, how many times did Siri edge you today?”

“I- I lost count, Remmy.”

A wicked grin covered his face, but his fiery gaze remained unyielding.

“That’ll be a good start then, okay pretty girl can you grab the bonds for me? It seems our naughty boy didn’t learn his lesson yesterday.”

How lucky were you, to be taken care of in so many different ways by the two men you adored above all else.

“Yes Daddy”

Before you did what you were told you couldn’t help but relish in the fear and anticipation on Sirius’s face. Wondering, and craving for what would happen next…

---

@thotbutpurple @quindolyn

[writingsfromhome]

Nuclear Family V

Part Five: Some Things Never Change

A/N: I’ve reread and rewrote and finally wrapped this up! It got really long because I didn’t want to drag it into another part, but I did include an epilogue--I couldn’t help myself. Hope it lives up to the expectations! And thank you x100000 again for reading along <3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V

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

The next morning, we sit down together and soothe Charlie's worries. Harry holds my hand at one point and we play the best acting gig either of us have ever played as we pretend there's not a ginormous unspoken trilogy between us. Charlie's tentative at first, but when Harry pulls her onto his knee and whispers something to her. She breaks into a giggle and hugs him. At least that was patched over, I think. But when Harry meets my eyes over her head, I look away. Some things might never be patched over.

I’d set up a play date this morning, thinking Charlie might have needed a distraction. It also gave me time to pack our things without her to distract me or feel the emotional baggage I was packing up too.

I had planned to find an air bnb, waking up at 7am to start searching. But when I updated Marc after he asked what I was doing that evening, he insisted we stayed with him. We’d lived together before, and he was almost always at work, so it gave us enough space.The best part was he lived in the same building as Harry; it was almost too perfect, and when I’d asked Charlie she was totally on board. Spending time with Marc while being able to take the elevator to see her dad sounded just sounded like her play place had expanded.

After Charlie leaves, and I’m almost done packing, I look for Harry to talk. I find him toweling his hair after his shower. He had to head out for shooting today so I needed to speak to him before he left or else he would think I slighted him. He notices me in the foggy mirror and turns, and I try not to find the towel tied around his waist distracting.

“Hey, so...I’ll be out of your hair today...no pun intended.” I laugh lamely after he continues to stare at me blankly. Okay, maybe his towel was more distracting than I’d like to admit. And this was an awkward conversation when we had so many unspoken things between us. “Um, so I found other accommodations finally. So we’ll move out and it’ll be like we planned initially?”

“Huh?” Harry freezes, arms in midair.

“I don’t know why it took me this long to find another place,” I blabber on. “But I think yesterday was kind of a wake up call? I shouldn’t have stayed this long anyway and-”

“Wait, Y/N, stop. You’re leaving?”

“Just the flat,” I finally look at him, he looks stony. “We’ll actually just be a few floors down staying with Marc, so it’s kind of perfect.”

“Marc?” A flame lights itself in his eyes, usually the colour of a spring field, they’ve now turned into a field of ashes as he realises what I’m saying. “You’re moving out? To Marc’s? Because of yesterday?”

“Yes, that’s what I just said.” I try to remain calm, but it’s hard when he’s acting like this. “Harry, yesterday just made me realise I’d lost sight of the horizon or whatever. We were never supposed to live with you for this reason! We knew when we planned this that it would complicate things. I was just so obsessed with making Charlie’s birthday perfect I didn’t look for anywhere else, and her birthday was basically disastrous so that was useless. Now you can live freely, Miranda can come and go-”

“Oh and living with Marc won’t confuse Charlie?” Harry demands.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know exactly what that mean Y/N. You’re being a bloody hypocrite-”

“What?!” I can’t keep the calm anymore. “I’m a hypocrite?”

“Yes! You! You think Charlie seeing Miranda and me together would confuse her yet you’re taking her to your boyfriend’s house-”

“Who said anything about my boyfriend--and how dare you sound so judgemental about that! Sorry I didn’t get the memo; Harry can have a girlfriend but Y/N can’t! She’s got to be the single virgin mother all by herself!”

“That’s not what I said!”

“No, I think it’s what you were trying to say! Being so fucking judgemental about my love life. This isn’t my fault! I’m not asking you shit, Harry!”

“What the fuck Y/N!” Harry whips the towel he was using for his hair onto the ground. My heart beats erratically in my chest; the last time we fought like this it was because I’d told him I was pregnant and it had ended really ugly. But the way he got under my skin, as hard as I wanted to be the mature one, I couldn’t. “You don’t have to be so bloody sarcastic all the time! I just don’t understand how living with Marc will be any better!”

“Marc’s barely every home, and he’s lived with us before, it’s worked out fine. Charlie adores him-”

“Oh yeah I bet she does! You would’ve loved it if Marc was her father yeah? He’s always had a thing for you, even when we were together. Now’s your chance to be a perfect little family with Marc!”

“I did not say that, don’t put words in my mouth-”

“Oh, but I think that’s what you were trying to say,” Harry mocks me. He’s a ball of rage as he stalks towards me. “I don’t understand your obsession with this guy and why he’s so close to Charlie!”

“You know Marc! We’ve been friends with him for-wait why am I defending myself? This isn’t about that!”

“Well I think it should be!”

“Where are you going with this Harry?!” I shout, putting my hands out to his chest as he continues walking towards me, as if maybe I could shield myself from his growing fury. “I don’t want to fight! I’m just trying to do what’s best for Charlie. And for us.” 

We stare at each other, uncomfortably close, chests heaving as the fire crackles low.

“Well, too late for that.” He says, but the snark is gone. “I’ve finally got Charlie living with me and you’re taking her away.”

“I-I’m not taking her away.” My voice rises immediately. “Don’t you dare say I’m taking her away!”

“You are!” He says stubbornly.

“What the fuck do you expect? You want me to stick around so it’s you, me, and Charlie? You want me to stay here and be miserable, have our kid be confused about what’s going on with who?”

“I don’t want you to be miserable, I just want us in one place!”

“We’re not this perfect little nuclear family you have in your head! We can’t be!”

“Not when you’re bringing the nuclear into the family,” Harry mutters immaturely.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong with you?!” I want to pull my hair out.

“What’s wrong with me is you’re taking away my daughter from me!”

My blood was just boiling now. I get in his face, “Harry, do you not remember that you never wanted us? You had the option to stay with me, while I was pregnant with Charlie. You had the option to hold your daughter the day she was born. You could’ve had all of it. Every step of the way! You chose not to, you let me go, you-you told me I could go...” I break off suddenly, so I didn’t sob as the memories rush back. I told everyone I was over it, I had processed it. But when Harry rejected me, he also rejected Charlie and I never got over that.

Harry hears my breath hitch, he backs away from my outstretched hands and I let them drop.

After a heavy silence, Harry speaks up: “Y/N I’m sorry. I heard what you said yesterday. I was up all night just thinking about it...”

“Well that’s wonderful for me,” I retreat into the comfort of sarcasm.

“No--you were right, I didn’t want commitment. I was bloody afraid of it. I was listening to everyone who said if I had a kid, my career would be over. I wanted to stay young, and I just let you deal with it by yourself. I was selfish and I wish I could go back and change everything.”

“Well that’s not much help now; you never once said any of this to me! You moved on--don’t deny it. I saw you in the tabloids, the media. You don’t think I kept track of you? I loved you! You’re the father of my kid, and while I was up on less than an hour of sleep trying to get your 2 month old to stop crying at 3am, you were out partying with models and getting smashed.”

“I couldn’t-I just spiraled-”

“Well it’s nice that your spiraling looks so much like partyingl” I roll my eyes. “Mine looked like crying in the bathtub with my ears ringing, and covered in baby vomit.” I cross my arms. I had held it in for four long years, it was about time I snapped, and I guess this was it.

“Y/N.” he turns away from me, rubbing his face. When he turns around, his heart is on his sleeve. “There were so many times I would pick up my phone and type in your number, just to hear your voice. Just to ask you about Charlie--it ripped me apart that I wasn’t there. That you weren’t here, with Charlie. You’d send me pictures of her and I would get so excited to see what she was up to, what new thing she learned...”

He breaks off, his face now shining with tears. He walks up to me and holds my hands, my heart tugs and I know I’m crying too. “Y/N when I held her for the first time when she was a few months old, and she looked up at me and smiled. I didn’t even know I could love like that. So I changed Y/N--tell me you saw me doing anything reckless after that first visit. I made sure I grew up so I could always be there for her. And you. But you never talked to me. You were always so cold to me and I was scared to break the ice. So I just let you raise her without me, not realising what I was missing out on. I fucking missed all of it because I was just trying find the perfect words to get this off my chest and I never found them.”

“Harry-” I sigh. “You could’ve tried. But...you moved on though. You have a girlfriend-”

“I had to try to move on,” he explains urgently. “You barely spoke to me. I’d ask how you are and you wouldn’t always reply, our texts were only about Charlie. You never invited me over when I was in LA. I thought you didn’t care about me so I had to move on, and the way we ended things I didn’t blame you! I let you know I would be there for Charlie--but I had to move on because I didn’t think we would ever have another shot.”

“I didn’t know what to say to you when you came over Harry. The way we left things before I moved back home, It was awful.” I whisper. The words he’d said, the things I said, the broken glass and just hours of fighting. Then the panic attacks and crippling fear of not knowing what I was doing with my life. It was easy to let it harden you, rather than invite it back in.

“The way I let you leave...was awful.” He agrees. “So I’m asking you now to stay Y/N.”

“And do what?” I ask, didn’t he get it? “Sit around while your girlfriend is over all the time, have her pop in with her own key while I’m only just woken up looking like a troll? Let you kiss me in the dark when she’s not around? Have her ignore me like I’m not even there?”

Harry has the decency to look embarrassed, dropping my arms. He sighs, and looks at me with regret. “This is balls up.”

“Yeah, I know Harry. That’s why I’m finding other accommodations.”

“I don’t like it’s with Marc.”

“I don’t care Harry, you don’t have any say over who I stay with.”

“But Charlie-”

“She can stay with you when she wants,” I agree. “I know you’ve got a shoot all week so it’s a good week to be out.”

“I like coming home to you two.”

“Harry,” I warn him. He couldn’t afford to speak like this when he had a girlfriend. I didn’t want to fall for him again. He made it hard not to.

“I don’t like it but I can’t stop you.” He concedes, arms crossed over his chest. I skim over the bare flesh, taking in the ink that Charlie loved to ask a million questions about. He notices me looking and I catch the cocky grin on his face.

“I’m looking at the ink,” I say, even though I didn’t have to defend myself.

“I know,” he shrugs but the grin stays on his face. I roll my eyes and head back to finish packing but he pulls me back to him and suffocates me against his bare chest. “I’m sorry, for then. For now. Forever.”

He lets me go but he keeps his arms around my waist. I look up at him and for the first time in a long time, I see my old Styles. Confident, determined, and a little cocky. The one I fell hard for.

“Noted,” I say, not giving in this easily, I still had to process this whole conversation and figure out what this thing between Harry and I meant.

A low chuckle bursts out from him as he stares down at me. “I miss you,” he says.

“I’m right here,” I say, stepping back so he lets me go. I leave him with a smile on his face, not ignoring the way he said he misses me. Without even realising it, my feelings of resentment had begun to slip away. But I still knew space would be best for both of us.

***

It’s Thursday evening, Charlie was with Harry having dinner at his mum’s place. Marc’s edition is officially in printing and he’s home at a decent enough hour that I put aside my work and share a glass of wine with him.

“Sounds intense,” Marc says to me after I give him the details of mine and Harry’s fight. Since then, we’d have breakfast as a family once but I did text him beyond just talking about Charlie. Pictures, memes, old memories, the occasional pointless text. It was sort of nice having him in my life again.

Charlie was going to work with him tomorrow, and she was so excited about that. It gave me time for alone time, and to catch up with Marc.

“It was intense, it felt like the old Y/N and Harry.”

“Uh oh. I don’t miss them,” Marc huffs. “You’re a lot nicer now, and he’s not as much of a cocky bastard anymore.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel.” I tease. But he was right, back then I was young and sassy and I wasn’t afraid to let the world know. Marc and I had met when he reached out to me to write an article for his magazine and it was a coincidence that Marc and Harry knew each other from cover shoots. Marc used to be a photographer.

“I like this Y/N better,” Marc leans into me, his voice deepening. “She’s kind and strong and gorgeous, and the best part is she lets me kiss her.”

He pauses in front of my face and I lean the rest of the way in to let him know he could. That’s all the signal he needs. Our drinks abandoned, we quickly move into the bedroom and I can’t believe I forgot how good it felt to be wanted like this.

***

The next time I’m in Harry’s flat, I’m picking Charlie up. She stayed with him, but Miranda had surprised him by showing up early right after her flight landed. His short text made me get up there right away, after what happened the last time Charlie saw Harry and Miranda together, I wasn’t sure if she would misbehave.

But oddly, she’s mostly quiet.

“Did you have fun?” I ask Charlie, as she eats her cereal slowly. Her back is to the hall Harry stands in and it was a good thing as Miranda drapes herself across him. Unfortunately, I had to see it; I guess she got the memo that Charlie knew what was going on, and she was okay with it--or as okay as a four year old could be.

“It was so cool mom,” Charlie says. “There was so many rooms and one was space! It had the moon and there was a castle and they made the explosion sound and...” Charlie explains in no sensible order everything she saw at the studio, and I listen to her spill out her excitement but every so often my eyes drift to where Miranda shamelessly reunites with Harry. It makes my stomach turn. Especially after the conversation we had. I wasn’t an idiot, I knew Harry wasn’t going to rearrange his whole life because we’d finally had the Talk about what happened between us all those years ago. It was just watching them, and knowing that that was Harry moving on. From me...when I never fully moved on from him. It was pathetic, I know.

“Have you had coffee yet?” Harry asks a little while later after he’s unhooked Miranda’s claws from him and made his way to the kitchen. Charlie is slowing down her speech but when Harry appears she launches into more questions about set and when his “movie” would come out (it was a music video).

“No, I saw your text as soon as I woke up.” I say, between Charlie’s breaths. IT seemed she was going to be a while. “I could use a cup.”

“I heard you’re staying with Marc,” Miranda suddenly comes up and sits at the table, addressing me. “He’s a nice guy, I’ve worked with him in the past. Easy on the eyes too.”

“I’m right here,” Harry holds up my empty cup and looks pointedly at her. She winks and I nearly vomit.

I smile instead, “Yeah. He’s a really good friend, and Charlie loves him. And he lives downstairs so it worked out really well.”

“Yeah,” she smiles. This was the most she’s said to me since she got here. I watch as she glances at Harry who’s making my coffee the way I like it. “I heard you two are really good friends.”

Yeah...” I didn’t like what she was insinuating. I look up at Harry but he’s suddenly very interested in the sugar. “I can do that.” I grab it from him and make sure to glare at him as he passes it to me.

“We should do like, a double date.” She suggests. “Harry, don’t you think that would be fun? You and me, Y/N and Marc?”

“What about me?” Charlie pouts.

“You and Gemma!” Harry looks at me. “I forgot to mention, Gemma wanted to take Charlie out, spend some time with her while she was in London.”

“Perfect!” Miranda sounds almost too excited. It makes me suspicious.

***

When I tell Marc about the double date, he’s more than eager to attend. I know he just wanted to annoy Harry. I was nervous what this all meant.

But somehow I find myself standing with Marc in front of the restaurant while I try to prepare myself for whatever the evening held for us. Marc eventually just grabs my hand, winks, and pulls me in even though I wanted to just stay outside for a bit longer. Maybe a lot longer. Maybe just never go in.

As dinner goes on, things grow more and more awkward. Miranda is chatting up Marc about their old shoots, Harry grows more irritated as Marc receives all the attention, and his eyes track Marc’s hand any time it’s near me. I knock back my wine, as does Harry. Miranda continues to chat up Marc, and I inhale the food when it finally comes simply because the whole situation was stressful.

“The food’s good here,” I comment but only Harry hears me over the other conversation at the table.

“I always wanted to take you here,” Harry comments. “It has the best victoria sponge I’ve ever had.”

“You know I hate victoria sponge,” I scrunch my nose.

“I know!” Harry laughs which seems to get the table’s attention. His laugh usually did, as I’ve said. “That’s why you have to try it, you’ll finally like it.”

“Like what?” Marc asks.

“Victoria sponge,” I cringe visibly which makes him laugh.

“I think she loves cheesecake too much, right?” I know Marc is remembering the night I came to his house after a big fight with Harry, he’d bought a cheesecake for his then-girlfriend but I’d cried into it and finished the whole thing in one sitting. He’d had to improvise with cupcakes the next day. I still feel bad about that.

“Y/N is a cheesecake fanatic,” Harry says a little aggressively.

“Cheesecake’s way too fattening,” Miranda says absentmindedly, not realising what she was implying.

When the table grows awkwardly silent, Harry tries to come to her rescue. “That’s when you know it’s good food.”

“Touche,” I tip my glass just to have an excuse to have something to do and...well, drink.

At the end of the night, Harry asks if we want to go back to his place. I say no as Marc says yes and because he had the louder voice that’s what we do. I shoot him a dirty look but he only winks at me. He was having way too much fun.

Harry excuses himself and joins us in the Uber late. In his hands is a box with victoria sponge.

***

“Do you think he knows I’m not your boyfriend?” Marc asks later that night. We’d drank another bottle of wine and everyone was a bit more...vocal than before. What started out as fun stories from our younger days, quickly turns into passive aggressive comments as Harry stared a hole at Marc’s hand on my thigh, and Miranda stared at Harry staring at Marc’s hand on my thigh. She’d asked to speak to him midway through and now they were arguing in another room where every so often we caught some of their argument.

“You can’t even take your eyes off..............a bloody cake? You didn’t even think to.........I don’t get it!” That was Miranda.

“Thinking too much..........stop........of course I love you.......Charlie’s mom!” and that was Harry.

“I just knew this dinner would go like this,” Miranda says loudly.

“So you’re testing me now?” 

“Yes Harry, that’s obvious isn’t it Y/N?” Marc comments beside me.

“You’re having too much fun,” I lean my head back and sigh against the headrest.

“I have a stressful job, I don’t go out often. Can you blame me for being mildly entertained here?”

“Ugh...yeah okay me too.” I look over at him and he laughs. I hated the tension it was causing between Harry and I but I couldn’t help the small petty satisfaction of showing Miranda up after she tried to steal the show at dinner tonight. “What happened to the flight attendant you were seeing?”

“She took a flight out of London and never called me back?”

“Poor you,” I pat his shoulder. “We’re just not cut out for relationships are we?”

Marc shakes his head solemnly. I sigh, the alcohol making me more melodramatic than I was. “We’re finding my ex and his girlfriend arguing, entertaining. Who am I?”

“This is why we get along,” Marc leans into me, he smelled good. “Two boring people, getting our petty kicks with other people’s drama.”

“I think this is kind of my drama too,” I groan.

"Then I guess it’s kind of my drama too,” Marc says happily.

“You’re serious,” I say, leaning my head back against the sofa again, too tired to say anything else.

“I always have your back,” Marc says and I open my eyes just as he nuzzles a kiss against my exposed neck, and Harry walks into view.

“Harry,” I sit up and Marc jolts up as I nearly knock my head into his. Harry looks roughened up, his hair lays every which way as if he ran a rake through it. His face is flushed yet he stares at Marc like he wants to pop his head off.

“I’m really sorry, I’m going to have to call it a night. Miranda is...we have to talk and-”

“Yep, yep, we’re out.” I don’t need to be asked twice. Neither does Marc. Marc heads immediately to the door but I pause by Harry.

“Sorry...” he apologizes again. He looks like a lost puppy which is what makes me press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“We’ll talk in the morning. Gemma is dropping Charlie off around noon.”

“Okay,” Harry looks over my head to Marc, who is opening the door to give us some privacy. He looks back at me, searching my face for something. “I didn’t want the evening to end like this, it’s just...complicated.”

“I get it,” I cut him off, and more gently say again, “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes please,” he mumbles. Even though Harrys’ done this to himself, I can’t help but feel a little bad. I pat his arm and turn to head out with Marc. Harry could get himself out of the mess if he wanted.

***

I don’t hear from Harry the next morning, before I pick up Charlie, he leaves me a cryptic text that we should probably not go over today. Charlie and I spend the day exploring London some more instead, although she’s tired in a few hours so we end up picking up Marc after work and enjoying dessert by the river.

I still hear nothing on Saturday morning, Charlie asks about Harry and I lie saying he way busy. It’s only around noon that a haggard Harry shows up at Marc’s door. I was helping load the dishwasher so Marc answers the door. It’s the loud shout from Charlie that alerts me to the guest.

I pass Marc on my way to the door, he just raises his eyebrows to say yikes and it’s an understatement when I see him. Messy hair, a five ‘o clock shadow, and he looks like he hadn’t slept.

“You look...rough.” I say while Charlie sits on his back. I almost want to tell her to be fragile with him with the way he looked.

“It’s been a rough couple days.” He comments, his voice scratchy. “I need to talk to you.”

“Charlie, love, go inside for a bit? I’ve got to speak with your dad.”

“Aww,” she moans as Harry helps her dismount.

“I’ll play with you later little monkey,” Harry tickles her and she squeals as she runs away. His eyes follow her with a smile.

“So...” I step into the hall, tilting the door behind me.

“I think Miranda and I broke up.”

“Ah,” that made sense. “What happened?”

“She...it’s so complicated. Why are women so complicated?”

“Woman here,” I point to myself and raise an eyebrow. He shakes his head and sighs.

“Apparently she...set up that double date so I could see you’d moved on. Except, according to her, the way I was acting made her realise she was never going to measure up to you. She...she wanted me to choose between you and her, I told her...” he gulps, leaning against the opposite wall for some support. “It wasn’t the same. You were Charlie’s mum, we would always be in each other’s lives. She made her peace with it but this morning when I woke up I don’t know...I don’t know what I said. She was just gone. She isn’t answering her phone. I thought we were okay, we made up yesterday but today...I don’t know.”

“Wow,” I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t think she would actually ask him to choose. And now she went AWOL. “Do you know where she might be?”

“I went to her place, her roommate said she thought she was with me. I just don’t want her to do anything rash.”

“Sorry, Harry.” I look him over, I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Before I could say anything more, Charlie zips outside with the drawings she had done at the museum. She just wanted his attention, and as he takes them from her he smooths his face over and gives her all the excited feedback she wanted. I slip inside and tell Marc we might head up for a bit.

Harry hesitates before letting us in. The place was a mess. Things are strewn about everywhere. A broken lamp sits near the entrance.

“Woah,” I say.

“Woah” Charlie echoes me with more emphasis.

“Ehm,” Harry scratches his head. “I...was trying to find something.”

“You shouldn’t be so messy dad,” Charlie immediately begins walking to her room, like she always belonged here. A small part of me is already sad for when we had to leave.

“Sorry love,” Harry cracks a grin and we exchange a glance.

“D’you need help...?”

“No, come sit. I’ll pour us a drink.”

We sit in the kitchen, sipping our wine in silence. Charlie plays with her toys in the back, a comforting background noise.

I reach my hand out eventually and brush Harry’s hand on the countertop. He looks over at me, zoning back into the present. His smile is small and sad, dimmed and broken like his lamp. I thread my fingers through his and squeeze for comfort. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it and I try not to look as affected by it as I feel. He lets go after he kisses it.

“Thanks for being cool about this, I didn’t know who to go to.”

He looks so lost, and upset. I want to comfort him but there are no words I can say to do that. I open my mouth to try to say something anyway, but the familiar sound of his front door opening interrupts me before I can.

“Harry?” Miranda’s distinct voice carries over. Harry shoots out of his chair and goes to meet her. I watch on, out of view as she hugs him and apologises. “I just needed to clear my head. Then I got a taxi and ended up near my mum’s. I think I drank too many mimosas. I don’t know Harry, I brought an apology drink...”

She trails off as she spots Charlie laying down with her toys. She looks towards the kitchen and I look away quick enough to not see if she’d seen me or not.;

“I didn’t realise you had...guests.” She says slowly, slower, I can tell her words slur together. She really did have too much to drink.

“My...Charlie came up, her mum’s just in the kitchen.” Harry says, his words loaded with unspoken meaning.

“Oh. So I leave for a few hours and you invite them back.” My eyes bug out as I realise Miranda was planning on rehashing it right here. I get up and move towards Charlie but unfortunately I have to pass by them to get there.

“I was supposed to see Charlie yesterday, I didn’t know where you went! You weren’t picking up I just invited them up-”

“My phone died!” Miranda pushes Harry away and I move quicker towards Charlie, urging her to go play in her room but she stays on the floor stubbornly.

“Miranda please love, let’s not start this here again. Charlie-”

“What about me Harry? I haven’t gotten any attention from you for weeks! I thought we agreed yesterday-”

“They’re just here for the month! I never get to see her Miranda stop being unreasonable.”

“I don’t know why I thought coming back here was a good idea!” Miranda shouts. I pull Charlie up but even she’s frozen in spot watching Miranda. “You’re just never going to love me the way I want to are you? I’m never going to compare against...her. Them. Whatever!”

Harry tries to soothe her but she throws him off again, dropping her bottle to the floor with a thud. She turns to me while I back away to the bedroom with Charlie. “This is what you wanted isn’t it? Him all to yourself? This is why you came here all along? I bet your air bnb didn’t even have a bloody issue! He never wanted you in the first place! Newsflash: he has a girlfriend! Me! Not you-”

“Miranda! Enough.” Harry says and she shuts up. I scoop Charlie up and take her to the room but she starts crying because she dropped Oreo in the living room. I go back for it and Miranda is shouting at Harry, either she was too drunk to care or she was at the end of her stick. Or both. But when she starts to swear Harry tries to move her outside.

“It’s not like she can hear over how loud she’s fucking crying!” Miranda shouts. She really was having this breakdown here, but I pause. I wasn’t okay with her talking about Charlie like that, and I watch as Harry freezes over as he feels the same way.

“Miranda. That’s enough.” He says seriously.

“I’ve had enough Harry,” she’s on the verge of tears. I shuffle back to the bedroom and quiet Charlie down but as soon as she does the shouting gets loud enough that we can hear.

“Why is she yelling at dad?” Charlie asks, her nose red from crying.

“She’s...upset.” I say lamely.

“She shouldn’t yell at him,” she says quietly.

“Sometimes, when you’re that upset it just feels like you have to yell. But you’re right, we shouldn’t yell at each other. They’ll be okay.”

Eventually they quiet down and I feel like a prisoner stuck in the room, wondering when it was okay to leave. Charlie feels the same way because she eventually opens the door when I’m distracted and heads out.

“Charlie,” I whisper from the room but she doesn’t come back. It’s oddly quiet out and when I peep through there’s nobody actually there. I strain my ears and maybe hear them in the bedroom. I guess he’d convinced her to move location.

There’s a feeling in my stomach, like a hard seed rooting in place and pulling up the dirt as it sprouts up into my chest. I suddenly just wanted to go home, back to LA. It felt so complicated here, and I know Charlie felt at home with her dad but I was just a traveler passing through here. London, felt like a home, but it wasn’t my home. And the feeling forces me to sit down on the edge of the couch. Charlie notices my expression and hovers nearby, eventually climbing up beside me and leaning her head on me. I pull her into me and try to work my way out of the funk I found myself in, turning on the TV just so I didn’t have to suffer in silence.

When Harry eventually comes out with Miranda, I’m making a snack for Charlie who stays seated in front of the TV, eyes glued to whatever was on. I try not to think too hard about why they both looked freshly showered, about what this meant for us all. Miranda sits on the couch and Harry hovers over them all watching. From my view in the kitchen, the feeling from before creeps back. Harry catches my eye just then and raises his chin, is everything okay. I smile reassuringly, it takes everything in me to fake it, before resuming my slicing.

I had to get over Harry, I think. On some level, I was still holding onto him and not dating anyone because I continued to compare everyone to how he made me feel. I was vulnerable living with him, I’d made up some version in my head of a family while I lived here and I watched Harry in his fatherly role. Some part of me hoped it would come true. But watching him with Miranda and Charlie like this, he didn’t need me. I was just a past dream, one that felt good to indulge in. Miranda was clearly his future.

“Charlie,” I call her name once I’ve cut up her snack. I stay in the kitchen, where I watch Harry touch Miranda’s shoulder reassuringly. I watch them make up and then watch as she leaves. Harry doesn’t once come into the kitchen, and I try not to show how gutted I feel.

***

I don’t hear from Harry for a few days. Charlie decided to sleep over for a few days, and I’m more than fine with it as I work to meet some upcoming deadlines. Marc pops in and out of his apartment, we have a few meals together but mostly I let myself get lost in my work. Charlie comes up every so often, but she spends most of her time with her dad. With only one week left here, I understand. I didn’t want to be around him, and make it harder for me to move on.

With less than a week to stay, Charlie asks me curiously as I put her to bed,

“Is Uncle Marc your boyfriend?”

“What?” I stare at her, where was that question coming from? Marc and I made sure to keep our distance whenever she was here. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“I dunno. Dad said you cared about Marc.”

“Dad said what?” I breath deeply. For someone who was calling me a hypocrite he outright told Charlie Marc was my boyfriend? “Marc and I are just good friends honey, like you and Carrie. I don’t know why your dad said that.”

“I like Uncle Marc,” Charlie says as she grows sleepy. “He’s nice.”

I grind my teeth, why would Harry say something like that?

I go back to the living room where I was working on an article, Marc sits opposite me working late too. But no matter how many times I read what I wrote, I can’t focus. My mind spins asking why Harry would tell Charlie something like that.

“Where are you going?” Marc asks as I get up suddenly.

“I’m leaving Charlie asleep here,” I pick my sweater off the couch and slip it on. “I need to talk to Harry.”

“It’s 12am,” Marc puts his laptop to the side. “Ohh I see. You don’t have to use code with me love.”

“What?” I’m confused but it clicks a moment later. “Marc don’t be so immature I just need to talk to him about something he said to Charlie.”

“I won’t wait up, don’t worry. Charlie’s fine here.” He resumes working on his laptop and I don’t even bother correcting him. I fly out of the apartment and up to Harry’s. I didn’t care if he was sleeping, I needed to speak to him. I do a quick knock before fiddling with my key, entering the space just as Harry comes into view.

“Y/N?” Harry’s sleepy face stares at me for a beat, his eyebrows furrowed. And suddenly faced with a shirtless Harry, I realise I could have walked in on him doing anything. I didn’t really think this through--Miranda could be over. Shit.

“We needed to talk,” I close the door behind me and stand up straight, ready to lay into him.

“Now?”

“Yes, now. It couldn’t wait.”

“Come in, I guess.” He steps back and I walk into a brighter space, he follows behind.

“Why would you tell Charlie that Marc was my boyfriend? Or we were seeing each other?” I jump right in.

Harry must still be sleep-confused because he sits down on an armchair and stares up at me trying to piece my sentence in his head. My hands on my hips are fists as I wait impatiently.

“I didn’t tell her he was your boyfriend.” He starts slowly. “She just asked why we weren’t hanging out like before and all these questions about--well you know Charlie. So I said it was complicated; we cared about each other but you cared about other people too like Marc.”

“Why bring Marc into this? She doesn’t know anything.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Harry gets defensive. “I was just trying to break it down to her.”

“So you brought Marc and me into her mind as someone I’m with--the reason why we weren’t hanging out like before? As if Miranda and you isn’t excuse enough?”

“Well, not anymore?” He squints up at me.

“Well...why not anymore?” I didn’t follow.

“Y/N...” He stares at me, searching my face as if I was lying but I don’t even know what I would be lying about. I raise an eyebrow. “Miranda and I broke up--that day you were here and she came in, we broke up, I thought you knew that. That’s why Charlie was staying with me for so long, I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Y-you broke up?” I was stunned, the way it looked to me, they had made up. “Charlie knew?”

“I don’t know. She just thought Miranda wasn’t coming around. I don’t know if it was worth explaining to her.”

“Oh. Wow,” I sit down on the couch, digesting that Harry and Miranda actually broke up that day. All this time I thought he was quiet because they were back together, but he must have been getting over the breakup. And I didn’t even ask him how he was--he must think I was- “Harry I had no idea, I would’ve....done-or said something. If I knew. I’m sorry.”

“I thought you were just staying out of it,” Harry chuckles to himself. “I didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

“The breakup was so...civil. I couldn’t tell! Can you imagine if we broke up like that all those years ago?”

That makes Harry laugh. “Maybe we would have made up quicker.”

“Maybe,” I whisper, playing with the ring on my finger. My mind races as the last few days make a lot more sense. But the only question that lingers on my mind was, why Harry didn’t try to make his move. If all those words he said over the last few weeks were true--why didn’t he try to talk to me? The only thing I can come up with was that he wanted to stay friends. It would get too complicated. “Well, now that that’s cleared I should probably go.”

I stand up as Harry does. He clears his throat, looks up at me like he wants to say something. I wait a moment, and when he doesn’t the awkward starts to settle.

“Sorry for waking you,” I say, trying to signal that I was now leaving.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugs it off. “But...aren’t you mad that I told Charlie?”

“Uh, yeah. Kind of,” I try to figure out where he’s going with this. “But, given your circumstances, I’ll let it slide just this once.”

“Oh c’mon Y/N,” There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Don’t give me that. I don’t need your pity-forgiveness.”

“Fine,” I cross my arms playing along. “If that’s what you want, I don’t forgive you.”

“Good. I want to earn my forgiveness.” Harry says, and it sounds like he’s saying one thing but meaning another.

“Okay well, I’ll think of something.”

“I can think of a few things,” he says with a twinkle. I can’t help the laugh that bursts out; he was making me nervous.

“Like what?” I impulsively ask, fuck it I tell myself. If I couldn’t flirt with my daughter’s single dad what was the point, right?

“Hm,” he takes the few steps between us and flashes me a charming smile. “I could get on my hands and knees and beg, or” he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and his finger traces the curve of my ear down to my neck, his movements slow and his finger dipping borderline dangerous. “I hear jewellery can work.” he taps my chest but just as quickly his hand moves up to cup my face, his thumb brushing my lips, “or I can cook you your favourite meal and watch you enjoy it or...” I keep my eyes on him, trying not to give in, but as soon as he moves his hand up into my hair, I close my eyes without meaning to. He knew my favourite feeling was his fingers in my hair and even now, it was no different.

“Or what?” I whisper, eyes still closed, too afraid of what I’ll see if I open them.

“Look at me,” He whispers. I swallow, he says it again and I finally open my eyes. He’s not even hiding what he wants, but he is holding back. “I don’t want to force you into anything, I want you Y/N...but I know you’re with Marc so if you want me to stop I-”

“Harry,” I cut him off. Marc was right, he really didn’t know--that must be why he left me alone. And now in the midst of this heat, I had to tell him--I’d only played myself: “Marc and I aren’t together. We got together a few times but we were never actually...together.”

“Wait.” his hand leaves my hair and I want to snatch it back. He takes a step away, his eyes flitting at he thinks. “So this whole time?”

I shrug.

“This whole time, you just let me believe you and him...”

I try not to look too guilty as realization dawns on him. When he steps towards me again, his mouth is curved into a smile. And one might think it’s a nice smile, but the look in his eyes, I knew he was gearing up for something, because now he knows I let him believe Marc and I were going out on purpose. And I was going to pay.

“Okay, okay so I can explain,” I hold my hand out but he just keeps walking until I stumble back into the couch I just got up from. He leans over me, and a giggle bursts out from nervousness. “Harry really, I-”

“You let me believe,” he grabs the hand I have raised and envelops it in his, taking away my only defense. “That you were going out with Marc? just to bother me?”

“Well,” I’m at a loss for words as I look everywhere but at his face. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“A little too well,” he murmurs. When I give in and look at him, I'm a goner.

“I'm sorry,” I say. “Really I-”

“You’re not getting away with it that easily.”

“What happened to forgiveness? We can mutually forgive!”

“I’m not that kind of person,” he says. Before I can respond he’s somehow managed to lift me up and sling me over his shoulder.

“This-Harry!” I try to wriggle out but his hands are iron clad on my legs. His apartment floats upside down as he carries me. “I’m sorry! C’mon! This is cruel and unusual punishment! I-”

The breath is knocked out of me as he lays me down on the bed, we look at each other for a moment and then his face cracks into a grin, “Last time I checked, you were into cruel and unusual punishment.”

I laugh, “That was four years ago love, a lot can change in 4 years.”

“Hm,” he leans over me and I crawl up the bed until my head hits the pillow, as he follows. “But some things never change, do they?”

“No,” I stare into his green eyes. They shine with unadulterated joy and adoration. My stomach swarms with butterflies like I’m a teenage girl, like I was Y/N so long ago, excited the hot guy from the party took me home. I hold his face in mine and kiss him with the same joy and adoration. “Some things never change.”

“I love you Y/N,” he says into my neck. I push him up to look at him, he says it again and I can’t stop grinning.

“Are you going to make me wait?” he raises an eyebrow. “Is that my punishment.”

I shake my head, “I think we punished each other enough the last few years.”

He nods in agreement, “That’s deep.”

“So’s my love,” I push the cheesiness which always got him to laugh. He laughs now too, and I feel the small thrill of being the one to do that. “I love you”

“Phew. Now let me kiss you,” he pulls my shirt off effortlessly and our lips meet in the middle, missing each other already.

And as we press into each other, relearning every inch of the other, catching up for all those silent years, we just fit together like we were absolutely made for each other. And truer words didn’t exist: some things never change.

Epilogue

[angrylizardjacket]

dirtbags // 1: Charlotte

Summary: Motley Crue High School AU with The Pack (Lola, Charlotte, Peach, & Eileen); Winter, 1984. Charlotte’s halfway through her Junior year of High School when Lola arrives in town, and becomes a part of Charlotte’s life almost by accident. 

Tommy seems to fall for any girl he hasn’t grown up with, Nikki and Charlotte are in agreement that their friendship becoming public knowledge would be social suicide for them both, Vince is a tool, and Eileen is still mad at him for what happened over Summer. 

A/N: 8829 words. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @misscharlottelee this has literally been in the works for what’s felt like a year, but i decided that i can’t keep putting it off forever, so here. part 1. i think im going to try and put these out weekly?? maybe sooner?? but i adore you and i of course absolutely adore @josaphinebaker so i’m glad to finally let you all enjoy the long-awaited, multi-part HS AU (me, not posting writing for months: AND WHAT’S THIS? THE HS AU WITH A STEEL CHAIR --) ft. a softer world quotes

who said life can’t be an adventure? because whoever said that is probably the villain.

There’s a place for everything, and everything has it’s place. That’s they way the world works, at least, that’s the motto the rest of the cheerleading team seems to adhere to almost religiously. Charlotte, who’s been on the team for almost a full year and a half, since the start of her Sophmore year, can’t see the world so black and white. It’s not that she signed up to be a Cheerleader to fulfil some bitchy, blonde stereotype, it’s more that she had free time to fill and thought it would be fun. It took her a few months to find her footing once she’d been offered a place on the team, and was quickly thrust into her school’s the social spotlight, but she managed in the end, and had been managing ever since, mostly.

“Charlie, you’re so lucky,” Tommy, her cousin, lamented to her, driving her home after cheer practice, and marching band, had finished for the day. He was still in his uniform, as was Charlotte, and she gave him a sidelong glance, picking at the nail polish on her thumb. She doesn’t even give him an answer; ever since she’d joined the team, he had felt the need to wax poetic about the other cheerleaders and their uniforms. It’s so familiar that she doesn’t even need to prompt him into mooning over seeing Pamela in the cafeteria that day.

“She’s never going to date you if you don’t talk to her,” Charlotte’s smile is sly as her gaze slides back to the road, and the sun drifting towards the horizon.

“If Pam ever found out I’d looked at her, she’d probably just spit on me, call me pathetic or some shit,” Tommy’s eyeroll is implied by the flatness of his tone, but Charlotte can’t help but laugh.

“Oh Tommy, everyone looks at Pam,” she reminds him, and Tommy lets out an annoyed whine.

“I know,” he groans, clearly not cheered by that fact, feeling ever the more hopeless, and they fall into silence. Charlotte reaches down beside her seat and lifts a lever, pushing the seat back so she could comfortably rest her feet on his dashboard.

“Did you hear someone finally bought the MacCready burger joint? Dad was talking about it yesterday,” Tommy says mildly, making a left-hand turn onto their street. Charlotte raises her eyebrows, intrigued, but doesn’t speak. Tommy knows her well enough to take her silence as an invitation to go on, “Mrs Mac is going into hospice care and apparently some guy bought it and moved into town.”

“Oh shit, poor Mrs Mac,” Charlotte muses, and crosses her ankles on the dash, “hopefully their food is edible now.”

“Their burgers were great!” Tommy protested loudly.

“Their burgers were trash, Tommy! You’re just a rat -!”

“I’m not a rat!” He argues back, pulling into the gas station around the corner from their house. Tommy pulls up beside one of the pumps, and Charlotte gets out to browse the various snacks on offer inside the service station.

“Afternoon, Mick,” Charlotte calls out to the gas station attendant, the guy who’s been working here since he was fourteen, who’s currently got an electrical apprenticeship every other day. Charlotte realizes she might know too much about him considering he barely communicates in grunts most of the time. It’s not that he can’t speak, it’s just that he has a well documented dislike of her over exuberant cousin.

As expected, Mick doesn’t look up from his copy of Rolling Stone behind the counter, but makes a noise of acknowledgement.

Before Tommy has finished filling the tank, an unfamiliar figure enters the gas station, breezing past Charlotte and snatching up a packet of pork rinds, moving to the drinks fridge and taking a can of lemonade. The person is a young woman, though Charlotte doesn’t get a good look at her face; she’s got silky, black hair down to the small of her back, beneath a backwards baseball cap, and she’s the most notable of her clothes are her scuffed, black boots, and her oversized, black denim jacket littered with patches and pins. 

When she puts her items on the counter in front of Mick, she pauses, frowning at the display, and Tommy enters the shop with an oblivious smile, asking if Charlotte had decided on anything.

“Can I help you?” Mick asks flatly, and the girl holds up a single finger, the universal signal for wait, and Mick huffs, but remains quiet. The girl adds a packet of gum to her haul, and leans her elbows on the counter.

“And a pack of Marlboros.”

Mick scowls.

“How old are you?”

“Are you being paid enough to care?” She responds, voice a low, challenging alto, and after a moment of deliberation, Mick actually shrugs, and turns to the cigarette display, picking out a pack for her as she pulled a few bills from her back pocket. After everything’s paid for, and the various food and drink had been stashed in the numerous pockets of her jacket, the girl is quick to open the cigarettes. 

“They’re for my dad,” she explains, taking one out and putting it between her lips, grinning, “mostly.”

She passes a bewildered Tommy and Charlotte on the way out, giving them a flat look over, eyebrow raising minutely at the sight of Charlotte’s cheerleading uniform, but she’s quickly out the door. Tommy, flabbergasted at her display of confidence, marches straight up to counter and leans on it like he’d seen the woman do.

“A pack of -”

“Fuck off,” Mick tells him, before Tommy even finishes his sentence. Charlotte snorts a laugh, approaching the counter with a bottle of diet coke. 

“Fifteen bucks on pump three,” Tommy sighs, pulling out his wallet, “and Charlie’s drink.”

“Do you know her, Mick?” Charlotte asks, still smiling, mind playing over the interaction.

“Do I look like I know her?” Mick grumbles, counting the handful of quarters Tommy had passed him with a ten dollar bill. Tommy, however, has never in his life taken Mick’s constant foul mood to heart, even when he probably should.

“He loves me, secretly, I know he does,” Tommy grinned when they were back in the car, heading to Charlotte’s house to drop her off, “we’ve known each other for five years, we’ll be friends any day now.”

“Tommy, he’s three days away from just decking you when you go to pay.”

“Which is a step up from when you said he’d throw me in front of traffic,” Tommy, ever the optimistic dumbass, chooses to look on the bright side. Tommy wears his affection on his sleeve, and seems to find himself trying to befriend anyone who would sooner fight him, if his hero-worship of local punk Nikki Sixx is anything to go by. It’s with a painful clarity that Charlotte realizes if he ever meets the girl from the gas station, he’s going to fall in love with her almost immediately.

Which makes Charlotte’s accidental and secret friendship with Nikki Sixx awkward.

“Oh Miss Lee,” Nikki whistles at her the following morning, wearing a grin that’s all teeth, “you know just what a guy likes to see on a Thursday morning.” He’s leering at her, leaning on the mesh of the fence, fingers hooked into the metal as he presses himself against it, his gaze trained on the pleat of her cheer uniform split upon her thigh over her tights.

“Every time you speak, I consider vehicular homicide,” Charlotte tells him with a sigh, straightening out her skirt, already resigned to the fact the rest of her free period was about to be co-opted. 

“Then I’m glad you can’t drive,” Nikki’s still grinning, throwing his bag over the fence, into the garden Charlotte had thought was peaceful enough to study in.

“It’s the only thing keeping you alive,” she says, plastering a fake, sweet smile on her face, closing her biology textbook as Nikki vaults the fence a few feet away from her. She pulls her jacket a little tighter around herself, in an attempt to ward off the slight chill of the end of semester air.

Never in Charlotte’s life would she have intentionally tried to befriend Nikki Sixx. How was she supposed to know that two of her free periods coincided with when he liked to show up to school? And that the secluded garden area out behind the library where she liked to study in said free periods was the easiest place to sneak in? 

She’s threatened to turn him in more times than he can remember, and he spits back that she should just find a new place to study, but she keeps showing up, and she never turns him in, and by now most of Nikki’s flirting is harmless.

They were both very much of the opinion that having a public friendship would be bad for the both of them; Nikki’s got more than a reputation of his own, both because his name technically isn’t Nikki, but he fights anyone who calls him Frank, and because he’s kind of a slut. Also there’s still an unconfirmed rumour about him being expelled from his first high school back in Seattle, since he’d joined their school a semester in Freshman year. Everyone’s too afraid to ask. Charlotte knows the cheerleaders aren’t above making hell for one of their own if they were caught fraternizing with someone like him. 

That being said, Nikki had made it very clear that he’d rather saw off his arm than admit that they were even acquaintances, scoffing about how he’d lose any and all street cred he’d ever had if his friends found out he was hanging around Miss Everyone’s Best Friend Charlotte Lee. At the time, she’d taken offence to his tone, but she quickly came to learn that that’s just how Nikki is sometimes.

He offers her a cigarette from the pack in his pocket like he always does, sitting opposite her on the picnic bench instead of going to class, his bag still on the grass where he’d thrown it. Like always, Charlotte turns it down, but it does remind her-

“Saw a girl yesterday at Mick’s gas station that reminded me of you,” Charlotte flips to the back page of her notebook, which was already littered with little drawings, and starts scribbling idly.

“She hot?”

“I guess?” Charlotte says after a moment of consideration, “didn’t get to see her long enough to really be able to tell.” Nikki hums thoughtfully, and Charlotte, without looking up, “she asked Mick for cigarettes and he was like ‘how old are you?’ and she was like ‘are you being paid enough to care?’“ 

Nikki takes a long draft from his own cigarette, and kindly turns to the side to blow smoke into the wind, instead of directly into Charlotte’s face, as he used to do, or like he does when he’s annoyed.

“Mick would have mad respect for a move like that,” Nikki snorts, and when Charlotte looks up from her notebook, she sees him looking off into the distance, giving a genuine smile at the mental image. Maybe this is why she puts up with him, these rare genuine moments. He raises the cigarette to his lips again, and looks back at her, eyebrows raised, as if prompting her to go on. Charlotte looks back at her notebook.

“It inspired Tommy to try and buy smokes too, but Mick shut him down fast; I swear, if we show up when he’s clocking off, he’s going to K.O Tommy the first chance he gets.”

“Which is a step up from when you said he’d throw him in front of traffic,” Nikki notes, and Charlotte pauses, frowning. She hadn’t realised her hyperbolic threats on Mick’s behalf were a standard unit of measurement for how much he did or didn’t like her cousin. They were bullshit! Why did anyone take them seriously? Charlotte’s often astounded at her own credibility, and how much people tend to take her at her word without question.

“What’s she look like?” Nikki asks, flicking his ash into the grass, bringing Charlotte out of her thoughts.

“Who?”

“The girl from the gas station.”

“Oh,” Charlotte pauses, thinking, finally settling on, “she was wearing heaps of dark shit, had black hair, maybe that’s why I thought of you. I don’t know who she is though, didn’t recognize her from anywhere.” She adds, and Nikki hums thoughtfully, nodding. With his free hand, he snatches her pen out of her grip, despite her yelp of protest, and begins doodling pentagrams on the back cover of her notebook. 

“You free tomorrow night?”

“I’d rather die than date you.”

“Charlie, you’re not my type -”

“Nikki, your type is tits and a heartbeat.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d fuck you, but I’d rather be castrated than date you,” Nikki responds flatly, and Charlotte quickly shuts up, scowling, “but my band has a gig at a place that doesn’t card, so if you and that overgrown Labrador you call a cousin can sneak away from mommy and daddy for the night, you’re more than welcome to come party with the big kids.” He smirked, flicking Charlotte’s pen back at her. Charlotte’s annoyance has simmered down at his offer, considering his words. 

“Nikki Sixx inviting me to see his band,” she mused, sly smile curling at the corners of her lips, mischief glinting in her eyes, “you like me, don’t you? You like Miss Everyone’s Best Friend. Soon I’m going to be your best friend too!” At least she was self aware enough about her people-pleasing tendencies to poke fun at his scorn.

“I like that you’re cousin’s obsessed with me, so bring him too,” Nikki’s quick to correct, but his heart’s not fully in it, if the smile he’s failing to repress is anything to go by, “I’m just in it for the ego trip, sweetheart.”

Charlotte gags at the pet name; the bell rings.

“She smells like an ash tray,” is the first thing Charlotte hears when she sits herself with the rest of the cheer squad at lunch, and she’s terrified for a moment that Heather, the Vice Captain of the squad, is talking about her. Discretely, Charlotte sniffs at her hair, worried that the perfume she’d spritzed to hide any of Nikki’s lingering smoke had worn off quickly. Heather’s not even looking at her, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially to the other gathered girls.

“Heather, half the people at this school smell like smoke,” Eileen cuts in as the voice of reason, taking a dainty bite of her food to punctuate her point. Heather’s expression sours.

“Yeah, but she’s pretty, why would she smoke?”

“Heather, you smoke,” Eileen rolls her eyes, and Heather sits back, crossing her arms, long, dainty fingers resting on her perfectly tanned and toned biceps.

“Yeah, but at least I have the decency not to smell like the bottom of an ashtray,” Heather raises an eyebrow, as if offering some form of challenge, and Charlotte watches Eileen bite back on a scathing retort, simply offering a withering smile, and continuing on with her lunch, “anyway,” Heather rolls her eyes, and starts up a new conversation with the girls on her other side, who were hanging onto her every word like it was gospel.

It’s quite possible that the tensions between Heather and Eileen may never actually die down, Charlotte considers, fiddling with the plastic-wrapped straw of her juice box. The thing is that Heather had only scored the position of Vice Captain of the cheerleading squad after Eileen, practically a shoe-in after two years on the squad and a pretty impressive acrobatic repertoire, publicly turned down the offer, quit, and joined the swim team the very next day, refusing to give a reason for any of her actions. A vicious joke circled the school about Heather being sloppy seconds, and despite Eileen never actually contributing to the joke in any way, or even acknowledging it, part of Heather still obviously resented her. The fact that Eileen still chose to sit with the cheerleaders despite not being one anymore, might also play into that, like she’s rubbing it in Heather’s face, even though she never would intend to do that.

Charlotte’s known Eileen for what feels like forever, since Summer camp in Grade School, living close enough to maintain a friendship, but not close enough that they were in the same district for Grade or Middle School. Both academically and socially minded young women, they’d found themselves in a number of clubs in those years that brought them face to face at meet or competitions, and thankfully, their local high school drew from a wider range of districts, finally bringing them together as allies, rather than competitors. 

“Who were they talking about?” Charlotte asks quietly, stabbing her straw into her juice box, trying to keep their conversation discrete.

“A girl transferred into our grade -”

“On a Thursday?” Charlotte scoffs a little, “with three weeks left to go before Winter break?” And Eileen makes a noise in the back of her throat, an I know, it’s weird, right? Without saying any actual words. 

“Something Fields; we just had French with her,” Eileen nods to where Heather’s now happily chattering with the other cheerleaders, earlier disagreement seemingly forgotten.

“Something?” Charlotte asked wryly, and Eileen gave her an amused look.

“Madame Laurent’s accent would butcher the name Sally, I’m surprised I managed to understand Fields,” and okay, she has a point, Madame Laurent’s French accent was half the reason any of the students studied the language, if only to understand her, because her English, while technically good, was sometimes incomprehensible. 

“The girl didn’t correct her?”

“Nah, just kept quiet, embarrassed, I think,” Eileen mused, and Charlotte hummed thoughtfully, “though she did sit herself right next to Heather; bold move, I’ll applaud her for that.”

“Bet Heather didn’t like that,” Charlotte snickered quietly, and Eileen’s smile stretched into a full grin.

“She straight up moved the moment the girl put her bag down.”

“The poor girl,” Charlotte shook her head with a sigh, before clarifying, “not Heather, obviously.” Eileen snorted a laugh.

“What’s the new girl like?” Charlotte finds herself asking, intrigued.

“Quiet,” is Eileen’s immediate answer, “couldn’t get a good read on her, but she knows a decent amount of French.” But she deliberates for a moment, “looks kind of mean.” And for the barest moment, Charlotte frowns, mind flashing to the girl she’d seen at the gas station yesterday... it couldn’t be.

“Black hair?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I saw a girl at the gas station yesterday, black hair, kind of mean looking, Mick didn’t know her,” that was the big tip; Mick seemed to know all the gas station regulars, so she must be new. Eileen catalogued this information in her mind, but had no comment on it beyond a shrug, before reminding Charlotte that they had debate after school, and asking if Tommy would be sticking around to give her a lift home. 

“He will be, he’s got practice until four too,” Charlotte said with a half smile, “and yes, he can give you a lift home too... Will Peach be needing one too?” She asked, referring to Eileen’s younger sister, but Eileen shook her head.

“She’s staying back until five every day this week to finish her science fair project, mom’s happy to pick her up - something about magnets this year - but I don’t want to wait around.”

“Wait, how long until the science fair?” Last year, Eileen, Charlotte, Tommy, and Vince Neil, who they’d still considered something of a friend at the time, had all come to support Peach in both her first year of high school, and her first science fair. Peach had come third, with a rather impressive display about which various household liquids killed plants fastest, and all three had cheered when she’d been given her ribbon, and Tommy and Vince spent the entire ride in the back of Peach and Eileen’s mom’s station wagon ranting about how she should have won, and scheming about how to best put a dead houseplant in their science teacher’s bed, like some low budget, home depot Scarface. Tommy may have become their friends via his place as a constant fixture in Charlotte’s life, and Vince simply because he had grown up as something of her neighbour and Tommy’s close friend, but their loyalty was absolute. Well, almost absolute. Vince was noticeably absent from their current roster of friends however, the then-four of them how vowed to make it a habit, and they could all tell Peach had been touched by the gesture, and Eileen, Charlotte, and Tommy were, at the very least, going to uphold that promise. A small smile plays on Eileen’s face.

“Next Tuesday, she’s so excited.”

if you put your mind to it, you can do anything. but you won’t. 

So according to Eileen, Vince Neil is throwing a party on Saturday, and seeing as Charlotte’s parents still think the world of Vince after he’d been so kind of her after everything happened with her ex at the start of the year, she’s allowed to go. They went to middle school together, though he was always a year younger than her, in Tommy’s grade, and their parents were passive-aggressive PTA friends for a few years there, and, as mentioned before, he’d been genuinely sweet when she was at her lowest. Her parents don’t know that a week and a half into Summer break, right after he’d taken her to prom and promised to key her ex’s car if she asked, he started surfing, starting hanging out at the beach with the rest of the pretty, mean jocks spending their Summer in the sun, and had turned into a vain asshole. Or, well, more of a vain asshole than he already was. 

Vince’s family was well off, and his parties were legendary, which is what made her parents agreeing to let her go so strange. 

What they didn’t, and would never agree to, was letting her go to Nikki’s gig, so she didn’t even bother to ask. Instead, she asked to spend the weekend with Tommy and Athena. Her mother calls to confirm that that would be okay, Charlotte packs a duffle bag with outfits for the weekend, and her mother reminds her to take care of herself at the party the following night, kissing her on both cheeks when Tommy turns up in his beat up Vista Cruiser. 

“Why are you hanging out with us tonight?” Tommy asks, frowning, still in the clothes he’d worn to school. Charlotte’s grip tightens on her duffle bag.

“Because we’re going out tonight.”

Immediately, Tommy’s posture straightens, and his expression lights up; he was delightfully easy to excite. Suddenly he was brimming with questions as he drove, fighting to keep his eyes on the road, and Charlotte let herself relax a little, glad to see he was onboard.

“Nikki Sixx’s band -”

“- is playing tonight!” Tommy finishes her sentence, his voice breaking on the last word out of excitement, though Charlotte kindly doesn’t comment, and it doesn’t stop Tommy’s eyes from sparkling, “he wrote it in sharpie in pretty much every bathroom in the school; you want to go?” Yeah, that sounds about par for the course for Nikki Sixx’s brand of advertising.

“You’re half in love with the guy,” Charlotte ignored Tommy’s spluttered protests, “so I wanna see what the hype is about,” she lied easily. She wasn’t a fan of lying to Tommy, he deserved better than that, but he also might crash if he knows that Nikki had personally invited them.

Tommy begs his mom to let them go, promising to be safe and be back by midnight, and the moment Charlotte vouches for him, his mother’s concern melts into agreement, and Athena complains that she’s never allowed to go anywhere. Tommy sticks his tongue out at her, and she kicks him in the shins, scowling, until Charlotte asks her to help her get ready, and Athena brightens considerably. 

“Charlie you look like a badass!” Tommy delights when he steps out of the bathroom, hair all teased up, eyeliner expertly applied his waterline, wearing an outrageous outfit. He was going to fit in easily. 

“Holy shit, dude, so do you -”

“Tommy! That’s my shirt!” Athena accused, storming over to him, trying to pull the tight, black tank top with the hot pink diamante lightning bolt off of him, despite his jacket over it, while he tried to slap her away.

“It looks better on me!” Tommy snapped, escaping her grasp and trying to hide in the bathroom. 

“Dude, she’s thirteen, give her the shirt back, you can borrow one of mine,” Charlotte sighed, standing back from it all. 

“Never!”

His mother called out if everything’s okay, and while Athena yelled that Tommy was stealing from her, Charlotte called back that she’d take care of it.

“Charlie, please,” Athena sulked, leaning against the closed bathroom door, while Tommy told his sister to piss off. Charlotte sighed, before giving the young girl an evaluative look.

“Would you let him wear it for five bucks?” 

Athena squinted at her, seriously considering the offer; if Tommy had made it, there would be no way she would have accepted, but she knew Charlotte was good for it. 

“Fine, but if he stretches it, I’m telling mom about his stash of Playboys,” she threatened, to which both Tommy and Charlotte made noises of surprise, Charlotte because she hadn’t known about that, and Tommy because he clearly didn’t think Athena knew about it either. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Tommy hisses, wrenching the door open. Athena turns arms crossed, smile smug, and gives him her best try me look. Tommy wrinkles his nose, but stalks into his room, grabbing a five ones from his wallet and giving them to Athena, who Charlotte had never seen so pleased before.

“I hate her,” Tommy seethed, and Charlotte petted his shoulder in solidarity.

“I know,” and then, “aren’t you going to be cold?” 

“I’ve got another jacket.”

The pub, Kings’ Hotel, sits on the border between suburbia and the CBD, and Charlotte’s been past it a million times, has spent a considerable amount of time idly staring out the window of MacCready’s Diner across the road, but never actually been inside. Speaking of MacCready’s, there’s a ton of scaffolding around it that Charlotte definitely doesn’t remember, and the sign’s been taken down, so it appears Tommy’s gossip about it being under new management was true. 

There’s no bouncer, but high schoolers and music were already spilling from the building by the time Charlotte and Tommy showed up. The music is decent, if a little heavy, but Charlotte knows she could definitely get into it if she wanted to. When she approaches the building, she notices a gaggle of vaguely recognizable people all in a cluster, huddle together while they smoked to keep warm in the cold night air. 

“Hi Heather,” Tommy calls out to one, putting on his most winning smile, and when Charlotte gets a proper look, yeah she can see Heather with her hair sprayed up and lipstick shiny, give her cousin a sceptical look. She does, however, notice Charlotte, and her expression shifts to something faux sweet and coy, a show of being amicable to someone obviously associated with a fellow cheerleader, and she gives them both a wave.

“I thought you had a thing for Pam,” Charlotte asks quietly as they push their way into the pub.

“Charlie, I’m into any and every cheerleader I’m not related to, why should I deprive any of the other lovely young ladies by only focusing on one girl?”

“Gross,” was Charlotte’s only comment. Tommy ignored her. 

It was kind of overwhelming at first, between the loud music, the crush of people she half-knew, the fact that the bartender didn’t even blink when Tommy ordered a beer, or the fact that Nikki Sixx was on stage in skin tight leather pants, playing bass like it was his God given mission in life.

Her ex and his best friend had also been kind of obsessed with Nikki and his band, and she was coming to understand the hype. Between the swirling lights, the people on the dancefloor, and the heat of the crowd, it was almost hypnotizing to be a part of.

“You should get a drink,” Tommy urges, and Charlotte hesitates. She’s had spiked punch before, half a glass of wine at a family get together when her mom had been tipsy and feeling indulgent, and a couple of sips of beer that her ex had offered her when they’d gone to parties together, but she’d never really...

“I don’t know what to order,” she admits, hesitant, but still raising her voice over the music. Tommy offers her his beer to taste, but Charlotte was already well aware of the fact that beer tasted like piss, and she turns him down. She tries to think back to what people order in TV shows and movies, and tentatively approaches the bar.

“Could I get a jack and coke?” She asks, just thankful that her voice doesn’t shake. The bartender looks her up and down, checking her out without a hint of subtlety, and Charlotte fights the urge to pull her jacket tighter around herself.

“Of course, honey, that’ll be five-fifty,” the bartender smirks, and Charlotte gives an uncertain smile back, thanking him and passing over a ten dollar note. He gives her a five change, along with her drink and a wink. Gross.

“What’d you get?” Tommy asks, when she finds him again, standing against the opposite wall, already halfway through his drink. Charlotte’s holding hers in her fingertips, nervous, taking a sip and scrunching up her whole face at the taste.

“Jack and coke,” she hisses as the alcohol burns. Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up at her bold choice, and asks if he can try it. She offers it easily, and he too makes a face as he drinks, but pretends like it’s great. 

They see more people they recognize, people confused but glad to see them out. They’re almost immediately accosted by Keanu, yet another face Charlotte hadn’t been expecting to see, and he wraps them both up in a hug; he’s all dark hair and wide, easy smiles, somehow everyone’s friend in a way that’s so different from how Charlotte seems to be everybody’s friend, but he and Tommy get on like a house on fire. There’s a resilience they both seem to have, and a shared enthusiasm, despite the fact that Keanu was a Senior, a year above Charlotte, and a full two above Tommy, but his good nature seemed to override these boundaries; the moment Tommy mentions he’d been thinking of heading to the dancefloor, Keanu’s more than happy to join him.

Immediately Tommy gulps down the last mouthful and beer and the pair of boys see fit to start cutting shapes on the dance floor with wild abandon, and so Charlotte finds herself at a table at the back of the room with Heather, a few other cheerleaders and their boyfriends, and surprisingly, Vince. He’s in white leather pants, and they look cool as hell, but also it’s Vince, and Charlotte’s fighting back the urge to laugh.

“Charlotte Lee, you’re looking fine tonight,” Vince slide into the space beside her, and Charlotte doesn’t roll her eyes, or make a comment about how he looks like a greasy snowman, no matter how much she wants to.

“Surprised to see you here, Vince, where’s all your popular little surfer pals?” She asks sweetly, and Vince raises his eyebrows at her, a retort on the tip of his tongue.

“I forgot you two knew each other,” Heather says, and she pauses, clearly deliberating, something dangerous in her eyes, “didn’t you used to date?”

“No,” Charlotte blurts quickly, though Vince is just as quick to deny it, “we’re friends- we were friends; not anymore. We went to prom together, yes, but we never dated.” She clarifies quickly, body language all tight and uncomfortable, which manages to go all the way over Vince’s head, and his hand comes to rest on his heart, expression reading betrayal.

“How long have been known each other, Charlie, for you to say we’re not even friends -”

And maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the alcohol, but Charlotte snapped.

“We were friends for years, Vinny, then six months ago you decided to spend all your time with a bunch of tools and bragged about taking me to prom because I was a cheerleader, and also - oh yeah, remember this? - made one of your best friends cry,” Charlotte hissed venomously, shoulders still tense, fingers gripping the edge of the table. Vince scowled.

“Peach wasn’t-” the words spill from him automatically, but there’s a flicker of something that may just be shame in his eyes, so he drops his gaze and starts again; “my friends are not tools -”

“The Vince who was my friend wouldn’t skip school three days a week to get high and fuck on the beach!” 

“It sounds like you two have a lot to work out...” Heather seems genuinely surprised, and while she’d been fishing for gossip, this was too much, and she graciously backed out of the conversation, pulling one of her friends over to the bar. Charlotte was suddenly aware of how hot it was in the bar, how sweaty and oppressive it all felt.

“People can fucking change, Charlotte,” Vince scowled.

“You didn’t change for the better, Vince, whatever the opposite of character growth is, it’s what happened to you.” Charlotte spat, and turned on her heel before he can respond. She didn’t want to stand on the side side of the road out the front, so she heads for the door labelled Beer Garden, and steps into the cool night air. 

Once outside, she realises how quiet it is, and when she sees Nikki Sixx at one of the tables with a blonde girl giggling in his lap, she comes to the conclusion that the band must be on break. The Beer Garden is mostly populated by smokers, the people around Nikki being the cool, intimidating, stoner punk rockers that she’d figured would be here, but that she can’t bring herself to approach. It’s nice to take a moment to be alone, she finds, breathing in the crisp night air, head feeling clearer for it, looking up at the stars glittering overhead. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Vince is a fucking tool. He’d made Peach cry the week they got back to school, and Charlotte had vowed to never forgive him for it. 

After a few minutes, Charlotte takes the time to really look at the people milling around, wondering if she actually recognised anyone. Much to her surprise, in the back corner of the courtyard area, she did. 

Side by side, Mick from the gas station, and the mysterious girl who’d bought cigarettes from him, sitting on the edge of a planter full of dead shrubs, both smoking, neither speaking, reading one magazine between the two of them.

Charlotte’s not quite sure who’s more likely to stab her, between Mick and the girl, and Nikki’s band of misfits, but she hedges her bets and heads to the pair at the back.

“Having a good night, Mick?” Charlotte asks tentatively, before giving pause. They’re reading a ratty old copy of Hustler. Mick looks up, and lets go of his side of the magazine, letting the girl take it, to keep flipping idly through.

“The band’s okay,” Mick muses, and seems to realise that his cigarette has gone out when he tries to take a drag on it, and he pulls out a lighter and relights it, “how’s your night been?”

“It’s been alright, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Charlotte gives an awkward laugh, looking to the magazine, which Mick seems to either have forgotten about, or not realise that he’s reading porn in public, but finally the girl looks up.

“Someone cut out all the tits,” she’s got an accent Charlotte hadn’t noticed back at the gas station, and still can’t quite place, but that’s not the part she focuses on.

“What?” 

The girl flips the magazine around to show a Farrah Fawcett look-alike posing suggestively, with her entire torso cut from the magazine, just leaving a hole where the cologne ad on the next page can be seen. 

“Found it on the side of the road on the way here,” Mick says, like it suffices for an entire explanation. Instead of elaborating, he offers Charlotte a cigarette.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke,” an awkward silence follows, Charlotte with her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, while the girl close the magazine with a resounding slap and threw it over her shoulder into the dead shrubs, “I’m Charlotte.” Charlotte offers her hand. The girl looks at it, then to Charlotte’s face.

“From the gas station, the cheerleader” she says, tone unreadable, giving Charlotte a scrutinizing look, like she’s waiting for the blonde to shirk under it’s intensity. Charlotte doesn’t back down, and the girl finally gives her a firm handshake, “Lola.”

Silence followers, chatter filters over from the various other groups, Nikki’s laugh, loud and clear, above the rest. Neither Mick nor Lola makes room for Charlotte, so she sways idly from side to side, people watching the rest of the courtyard.

“Didn’t pick you for this type of scene,” Mick muses finally, crossing his ankles and fixing Charlotte with a strangely neutral expression, cigarette almost burned down to the butt where it’s poised between his lips, “that over-eager cousin of yours, sure, but this doesn’t seem like it’s your style.”

“Oh, Tommy is here,” Charlotte’s quick to clarify, looking around as if he were about to jump out of the bushes and irritate the rarely amicable Mick, “but, I don’t know,” she shrugged like coming out tonight wasn’t her idea, “I’m more than happy to give anything a go at least once; people at my school are kind of weirdly obsessed with the bass player, so I guess I wanted to see what the hype was about.”

Mick finished his cigarette as he considered her words, giving a pensive look to the bass player himself, still surrounded by a gaggle of fans, and eventually stubbed the last of the ash out against the edge of the planter he was sitting on, letting the butt fall, crumpled, to the ground. 

“He’s the only one with any ounce of talent,” voice gruff, Mick’s approval comes as a surprise to both Charlotte, who’s eyes go wide at the statement, and Lola, who barks an unexpected laugh, that ends with her choking on the smoke in her lungs. Mick thumps her on the back, and she roughly when her breathing clears, tears watering in her eyes. 

“Whoever writes their songs is half decent,” Lola points out, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, after which she dropped her own mostly burnt-out cigarette, crushing it under the heel of her boot. Yes, she has a point, but Charlotte’s curiosity gets the better of her.

“Can I ask...?” At her tentative tone, Lola immediately tenses, growing defensive, “are you Lola Fields?”

“Why?” Lola immediately snaps, and Charlotte raises her hands in surrender. Mick’s arms are crossed, looking with interest between the two girls.

“I think you go to my school,” Charlotte quickly clarifies, but Lola’s scowl deepens, as if wondering how she knew that, “do you take AP French with a tall, ginger girl?”

“I don’t really know who else is in the class,” Lola slowly tells her, but it’s not a no, which is all that matters. Charlotte nods, but doesn’t press the subject, “it’s weird that you know that much about me.” Lola adds.

“It’s barely anything,” Charlotte points out, baffled at the sudden defensiveness. 

“You know my last name and that I do AP French,” Lola says, and her gaze shifts from Charlotte to the gaggle of fans surrounding Nikki, as they all started to head inside.

“Well,” Charlotte doesn’t let her resolve falter, smiling, “my name’s Charlotte Lee, and --”

“Oi, Cheerleader, you coming inside? We’ve got another set to go!” Nikki Sixx’s voice rings out through the courtyard area, and Charlotte visibly cringes at the sound of it, turning slowly on her heel, still wincing when she faces him. 

And yes, he was talking to her, his hands are still cupped around his mouth like a megaphone, a tunnel showing off his smug and toothy grin. She hadn’t realised he’d even noticed her, but he had, and he needed her to know he had.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you,” she calls back, irritated. Nikki lowers his hands, and even from this distance she can see him raising his eyebrows.

“But you’re here, aren’t you?” He leaves the because I invited to you as an implication only she would hear, knowing she would hear it nonetheless. Charlotte sighs deeply, shoulders sagging with resignation, and Nikki, feeling as though he’d won, turns sharply on his heel and marches inside.

“I hate him,” Charlotte groaned.

“You know him?” Mick seems rather surprised, enough that the emotion could be heard in his voice. Charlotte turns back, not quite sure what to expect when she faced them. Mick is watching Charlotte with actual interest. Lola was watching the spot where Nikki had been, expression carefully blank.

“He’s a pain,” Charlotte says, defeated, and Lola’s gaze flicks to her, expression turning amused, but before she can get a word in -

“There you are!” The door to the now mostly-empty beer garden bursts open, and Tommy makes himself known. He’s left Keanu somewhere inside, apparently, now that he was on the hunt for his cousin. Mick sighs so heavily that it’s all he can do to lean back into the planter, arms crossed over his chest like a vampire, as if the very sight of the kid exhausts him. From this position, the packet of cigarettes in his pocket is exposed, and Lola steals one.

“I’ll owe you,” is all she says, as Tommy approaches, in less of a beeline, and more of an unsteady wave, more than a little tipsy. Christ, his mom is gonna kill them both.

“I was looking everywhere for you,” his wide eyes betrayed his concern, despite his current state, but his concern turns to joy, upon seeing her company, “hi, Mick!” Mick does not answer, laying with his eyes closed, in the shrubs. 

“He’s dead,” Lola supplies without missing a beat, pulling out her lighter and lighting the stolen cigarette, and Tommy’s expression falls.

“We should help him -”

“I can help him, don’t worry,” Lola assures, with faux seriousness, before her tone shifts to something light, easily distracting the tipsy boy, “you were in the gas station the other day with this one, weren’t you?” She gestures with her lighter towards Charlotte; Tommy looks to his cousin before looking to Lola.

“I- yeah, oh, shit, you’re- hi,” suddenly flustered as he finally remembered where he knew her from, he offers his hand, “Tommy.”

“Lola,” there’s a new edge to her smile, sparkling in her eyes as she taking in Tommy and his whole look, which has something strangely protective flare up in Charlotte’s chest. But then Lola catches the slight frown on Charlotte’s face, and it’s like she knows exactly what she’s thinking, because she lets go of Tommy’s hand and her expression betrays on the faintest hint of amusement. 

“Lola,” Tommy nods very seriously, as if committing the name to his memory in his current state was quite the task, but he persisted nonetheless. After a moment, however, he seemed to remember his original mission, “Vince thought you’d headed home -”

“Fuck Vince,” Charlotte spits automatically, venomously, a knee-jerk response, and Tommy’s stunned into silence. 

“Do you want to go home?” Tommy’s far too earnest and concerned for his current state, and Charlotte feels momentarily guilty for her outburst, hanging her head and letting herself breathe for a moment.

“No, the music’s good, we just got into a fight -”

“You guys used to actually be good friends,” Tommy hesitates, confused, and Charlotte gives him a rueful smile when she looks back at him.

“Then he decided that being nice to the people who have been friends with him for years was lame.”

“He’s nice to me,” Tommy says, sounding a little put out, and Charlotte shrugged, crossing her arms.

“And he’s still nice to me, doesn’t mean he’s not a tool; I’m a cheerleader, and you’re a guy, of course he’s still going to be nice to us.”

Tommy still doesn’t get it, but Charlotte decides to head back into the pub with him, throwing over her shoulder that it was nice to meet Lola. She could almost swear she heard a muttered ‘fuckin’ teenagers’ from Mick, all of nineteen years old himself, which just has Charlotte rolling her eyes. Mick taps Lola’s arm when Charlotte glances over her shoulder, while the rest of him still lays flat in the dirt, and Lola passes him the cigarette obligingly, crossing one leg over the other and smirking at him.

it doesn’t matter if the glass is half full or half empty. i am gonna drink it through this crazy straw!

“Vince is on the warpath,” Eileen’s always been able to remain composed while unreasonably drunk better than any person Charlotte’s ever known, and the following night, while Vince’s house party rages around them in the living room of his house, is no exception. She won’t say how many vodka sodas she’s had, or who supplied her with the vodka, but the way she was unable to suppress the amused twist of her lips was a dead giveaway that she was a little more than tipsy.

“Oh?” Charlotte’s eyes were roaming from face to face at the party, never sticking to just one, hands clutching a red solo cup full of cheap wine.

“Someone told him the person who keyed his car was here,” Eileen’s close to laughter, and Charlotte’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Does he -”

“No,” Eileen shakes her head, taking another delicate sip of her own drink, “he thinks it’s one of Duff’s friends.” She says, before her eyes going wide, and she slaps her free hand over her mouth - “sorry.” Charlotte, who’s too tipsy to care about the mention of her ex, is more confused than anything else.

“Because of me?” She actually snorts, skeptical, “as if Duff or any of his friends cared about who took me to prom after everything happened, enough to key Vince’s car.” It’s been long enough now that she can laugh at it, and the warped logic of it all, knowing full well that the girl sitting beside her was the real vandal of Vince’s shiny, red car. 

“Can you believe Vince asked me to invite Peach? After all that shit he pulled on her after Summer? I almost clocked him in the middle of the carpark!” Eileen’s movements were relaxed and uncomplicated, so unlike her usual demeanour, so easy-going, so honest, sometimes drunk-Eileen’s openness caught Charlotte by surprise, “told him to invite her himself if he wanted her there so bad.”

“I’m in awe of your restraint,” Charlotte mused, leaning into Eileen, letting her eyes fall closed in an attempt to keep the room from spinning in her vision, “he’s such an ass; I’m surprised you’re even here.”

“The nerve on him, acting like he’s too good to be seen with her because he’s got new friends,” Eileen shook her head, wrapping her free arm around Charlotte’s shoulders, securing her, still people watching, “I should have keyed him,” for a moment, she hiccups, and when Charlotte cracks her eye open for a moment to guage her friend’s current state, she sees Eileen glaring into her mostly-empty cup. 

“I’m still deciding if I should pee on something he cares about,” Eileen says, tone so serious that Charlotte can’t help but dissolve into giggles.

“What?”

“‘s why I’m here,” Eileen was so earnest in her declaration that Charlotte was a little nervous, if only because drunk-Eileen would absolutely do something as undignified as pee on something of Vince’s in an act of revenge.

“Would you key Duff’s car for me?” Charlotte asked to change the topic, all soft and teasing, and she can hear rare, unrestrained the smile in Eileen’s voice when she assured Charlotte she would in a heartbeat, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

Despite it still being early in the night, Charlotte knew that if she seemed drunk when she got back to Tommy’s house, her Aunt would tell her mom, and that’s the exact opposite of what she needs. Tommy can get legless if he wants, he only has to face the wrath of his weirdly supportive parents; if Charlotte comes home obviously drunk, she won’t be allowed out of the house until college. So she decides to get water.

There’s bodies everywhere, and Charlotte’s struggling to move through them, even with Eileen guiding her to the kitchen.

Charlotte’s been in and around this house so many times, it should be second nature to her; she and Tommy had spent what felt like half their childhoods in this house, within it’s pristine, white walls, and expensive, leather furniture, playing pretend trying to imagine what their future would turn out to be. None of them would have pictured this, of Charlotte, of Charlotte hating Vince and still stumbling, drunk through his house, nor had they seen Vince, playing pretend with popularity, tossing them all aside for a set of conceited fair-weather friends. Tommy’s never been able to predict his own future, too willing to go with the flow to be too certain of anything. 

Away from the living room, and the record player, the music is muffled, and the chatter is quieter, as people are here for drinks, or snacks, while most were choosing to dance in the crush in the living room, or making regrettable, teenage decision upstairs. 

Eileen tops up her drink with obviously spiked punch. Half vodka and soda, half spiked fruit punch. Gross. Charlotte looks on in disgust as she sips water, and Eileen acts like there’s no difference between taste, but she interrupts her own performance of stoicism when her eyes widen.

“Fields.”

“What?” Charlotte asks, confused as all hell, following Eileen’s gaze to where the kitchen opens up onto the patio, only to see Lola, in a full face of makeup, hair sprayed to high heavens, wearing all sorts of black, ripped, mesh and denim layers, looking like an intimidating cross between glam rock and crust punk. She was straddling someone’s lap, looking at them intently, what looked to be a black, eyeliner pencil in her hand.

“That’s the girl from my French class,” Eileen sounds a little surprised to see her, and Charlotte smiles a little.

“Her name’s Lola -” but her mouth drops open when Lola, in the dim light spilling from the kitchen, leans in and kisses whoever she’s sitting on. After a beat, both Charlotte and Eileen burst in fits of unsubtle laughter, not having anticipated this turn of events. They’re holding each other for support in their drunken amusement, laughing like this is somehow the funniest thing they’ve ever encountered, thankfully aware enough to set aside their cups. 

“I- we’re intruding right? This is- we should leave-” they’re not even the only ones in the kitchen when Charlotte says this, gasping for breaths between her laughs, but they seem to be the only ones who have noticed what’s happening, or at least the only ones who halfway care.

Until there comes a shout of ‘yeah, get some, Tommy!’ from the bonfire about thirty yards from the patio, and Charlotte very clearly and distinctly thinks ‘oh no’.

Vince is silhouetted by the fire, bleach blonde hair catching the light, but Charlotte can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Shut up, Vince!” Lola’s partner, who is now unmistakably Tommy, calls back, flustered, as Lola hides her grin against his shoulder. Vince and his cronies, none of whom Charlotte knows by name, jeer in response. Then Lola’s leaning back and saying something that Charlotte doesn’t catch, but suddenly Tommy looks inside, his expression turning from flustered and pleased to horrified as his gaze locks with Charlotte’s and they both know that she knows.

Eileen is wheezing with laughter beside her.

Charlotte sees Tommy’s now lipstick-stained mouth mutter ‘shit’. Lola follows his gaze, and waves awkwardly at Charlotte. Charlotte also mutters ‘shit’.

Charlotte tips out her water and gets herself another cup of wine from the back of Vince’s refrigerator. A lot has happened in thirty seconds, she thinks she deserves one more drink for the night.

[piratefalls]

A McDanno rec list for a new friend. (These are also authors I enjoy, so consider this a blanket rec list.)

The Bareknuckle Poet by pleasebekidding

After a serious accident left Steve temporarily wheelchair-bound, working towards his recovery, he enrolled at Rutgers for a year. He met Danny Williams in his criminology course, wearing pride pins and chipped black nail polish, so sure of himself that Steve found it breathtaking. What happened next redefined Steve's sense of self, his ambitions, and many of his priorities.

Tax Benefits by renecdote

“Everyone already assumes we’re married so maybe we should just...” Danny gestures broadly with his beer. He’s maybe a little bit… Not drunk, but definitely tipsy.

“For the tax benefits.”

Danny gives him an aggravated look. “Yes, Steven, for the tax benefits.”

Danny (jokingly) suggests they should get married. Steve takes him seriously.

ua kaha aku la ka nalu o kuu aina (the surf has pressed upon my land) by icoulddothisallday, TetrodotoxinB

Steve knows, he learned, how a man behaves. He can play his part. Danny, who is a good man and great father, looks nothing like what Steve was taught. Reconciling the two means giving up everything he's clung too for the last two decades, and there's nothing about it that's easy.

*potentially triggery AF (deals with effects of conversion therapy) but beautifully rendered

the art of leaving and saying goodbye by Verasteine

2007 is the year Danny learns that choice can be the worst kind of heartbreak. AU.

*warning for infidelity (not mcdanno)

in jest by apathyinreverie

“No, babe,” Danny shakes his head with a grin. “If the apocalypse were to go down while I’m elsewhere for some godforsaken reason, then you stay put and I’m coming to wherever you are.” His grin widens. “And I expect you to have cleared any aliens or zombies or whatever else might be messing with us off the island and to have set up a nice, comfortable military dictatorship for us to rule over by the time I get back.”

It’s a joke.

Of course it’s a joke.

Until it isn’t.

(A the-day-after-tomorrow-style apocalypse AU, where the world decides to end right when Danny is visiting one of the other islands with Grace. Because, of course, it does.)

not just friendship (romance too) by earthquakedream

Steve's gone and gotten himself a boyfriend. Danny's not sure what worse: the fact that he's stupidly jealous or that he actually likes the guy.

All I Ever Wanted (It Comes with a Price) by leviarty

Steve gets shot. Again. Danny is not okay.

* warning: a young grace shoots someone to protect both herself and a gravely injured steve

After All Our Troubles, We Have This by Banshi13

"I'm ending this," McGarrett muttered after a few moments of silence. "I'm not coming back until Wo Fat is in the ground. I'll dig his own grave and bury him myself if I have to, but my father is dead, my mother is running all over the world in hiding, my sister and I were uprooted from our lives, and now he's got Danny locked somewhere in a basement in the middle of Japan." He looked both Chin and Kono in the eye, deadly resolve in his eyes. "This ends. Now. This is the absolute last time that man interferes with my life and my family."

The Other Guy by haldoor

Danny tells Steve what he thinks is a funny story from when he attended Grace's school play. Steve doesn't think it's so funny; in fact, it makes him jealous.

Strapped by stellarmeadow

Steve's determined Danny's going to be prepared next time.

Warm to the Touch by veronicaluv

Danny didn't think twice about going to North Korea to find Steve. He just didn't know everything would go to hell when they got back.

Me and my heart (We got issues) by SquaresAreNotCircles

“I’m in love with you, Steve,” Danny says. He does it softly, quietly, laying the words into the darkness of Steve’s backyard like they’re something breakable, something to be tiptoed around. “I thought you should know.”

Steve’s heart jumps. It rams against his ribcage so hard it’s going to leave bruises. So hard he startles awake, and he almost yells before he realizes he’s outside because he fell asleep in one of the garden chairs in his backyard again.

how to be gay for your best friend in ten easy steps by commatme

See, the thing is that Danny doesn’t really do gay sex, what with being straight and all, but when Steve says I love you he sounds so earnest he makes Danny want to consider it. Which is crazy, right? He’s pretty sure that’s crazy, or at least a little unhinged.

It’s Not So Easy Caving In by paradis

The one where Danny used to be a heroin addict.

blame it on the ocean view by carryokee

Danny gives in, freaks out, and comes to his senses.

So Have I Loved You by Brumeier

In which Grace has a surprise for Steve's birthday and there's not a dry eye in the house.

take it back to a couple years yesterday by itsrosencrantz

Danny really, really doesn't want to go to his twenty year high school reunion.

Steve decides they're going anyway, and Danny takes it about as well as you'd expect.

View From The Shipwreck by flowerfan

Danny Williams isn’t in a great place – he’s a reluctant transplant to Oahu and an outsider at HPD. Former Navy SEAL Steve McGarrett isn’t doing much better, having suffered a career ending injury. When Danny’s young daughter Grace wanders into Steve’s bar after getting lost on a school field trip, Danny is drawn to Steve, somewhat against his better judgement – he’s got enough on his plate. He’s not exactly sure what Steve sees in him. As they spend more time together, Danny learns how Steve’s injury has changed his life in many ways, but not the most important ones. As one thing leads to another, Danny realizes that things might be looking up after all.

True North by lavvyan

“Tell you what, my dad’s throwing his annual Christmas Ball on Saturday. It’s not a trip to Aspen or anything, but it is nice. Fancy food and everything. You guys should come!”

On the trail of a suspected war criminal, Steve and Danny have to go undercover at a fancy ball. The sacrifices they make for the job.

Oh, and Steve's pining like the taiga. Nothing new there.

outside the lines by withoutwords

“I’m Detective Williams.” Danny says, not trying too hard to keep it smug free. “This is my partner, Detective Mackenzie.”

Ken Doll keeps his arms up, his eyes flickering between them all as if he's only seeing police for the first time. “Good cover,” he tells Danny, and it sets Danny’s teeth on edge.

“This is the part where you say sorry for assaulting a police detective, for compromising an investigation, and for acting like a complete asshole while doing it,” Danny growls, about to change his mind and cuff the guy himself.

“Sorry, Officer.”

The bastard is still grinning.

Boys Like Me, We Try Too Hard by romanticallyinept

Steve's always wound so fucking tight.

And Danny's worried about him. Legitimately worried about him. Because maybe Steve always lays into the perps a little hard, and maybe he follows his own rules and his own morals and doesn't stop to sleep unless his body's actually shutting down around him, but usually, Steve's okay at the end of the day. Usually, Steve's not leaning against the wall of the alley they're in, eyes closed and shaking, with the perp he'd cuffed a minute earlier lying on the ground and crying about his broken nose.

Steve keeps a secret, and Danny does his best to patch him back up when it comes to light.

Transformative by boxparade

“You know, I’d heard you’d changed a lot after high school, but I’ve gotta admit, this is a little weird.”

* trans (FTM) Danny

All the Way by VictoriaAGrey

Danny has lost count of how many times he and Steve have used the sexual tension between them for undercover work, only for it to be bottled away after the op is over. With Saint Michael as his witness, that ends tonight.

Nocturne in C# Minor (featuring Stevie Ray Vaughn) by minor_demimonde

So, to recap, Danny has beautiful eyes, great shoulders, a pleasantly-shaped butt, a delectable mouth, expressive hands, and he smells good.

You know, Steve has gone to bed with women who didn’t have that much going for them.

seen it in the flight of birds by Siria

AU from the beginning of Season 2. The Five-0 task force has been reinstated, but the new governor's determined to shake things up. Facing changes and unexpected betrayals, the team has to work together to face new challenges.

It Ain’t Me Babe (Nah), It Ain’t Me You’re Looking For (Babe) by tourdefierce

A story in which Danny makes lists and can't find his heterosexuality underneath all his homogay, Steve has a lot of faces, Kono is perfect in every way and Chin continues to keep Hawaii safe from the Five-O's general disfunction—Or, a story about Kono being awesome and how she likes her men with hearts in their eyes for each other.

Ratios, Decimals, and Percentages by fuchs

In which Steve takes an internet quiz and slowly loses his mind. Danny's okay with it.

Let’s Dance Like We Used To by AndreaLyn

There isn't a world in which Danny wouldn't go after Grace. So when Rachel moves the family to California, Danny goes with. Steve gets left to process life without Danny.

Gunfire, Rainfall, and Beach Erosion by thegrrrl2002

Steve and Danny are kidnapped. After which there is too much swimming and too much rain and it's all very romantic. If you are Steve, that is.

Moving In (To Every Single Aspect of Danny’s Life, Including the Boring Bits like Dry-Cleaning by westgirl

It felt wrong for Steve to sound unsure of his place in Danny’s life. His place in Danny’s life was at Danny’s side, driving him slowly insane. Steve should feel secure about that.

Always Known What I Wanted To Be by mickeysixx

Grace Williams has always wanted to be a cop.

The Taper Phase by popfly

It’s like being run over by an armored car, like the impact of gunshot to tac vest. The pride Danny feels for his daughter and something else, something about Steve’s tank top sticking to his stomach, the way his shorts stretch across his thighs. The goofy grin that lights up Steve’s face when he sees Danny and Charlie, waving one hand while he nudges Grace with the other.

Pitching Woo by SBG

In which Danny pitches (and then accidentally catches) woo.

clue: four letters, ‘is a many splendored thing’ by armillarysphere

“Crosswords? What are you, sixty?”

“They stimulate brain activity, Danno. You ought to try it sometime.”

Steve doesn’t even look up from his newspaper, half-chewed pen resting at the corner of his mouth in an entirely too distracting way.

That’s Not Just Friendship, That’s Romance by thismuchmore

Danny and Steve start out accidentally dating each other, and it turns into something more.

it’s not what you’re sure of (it’s what you don’t know) by somehowunbroken

Art thief Steve McGarrett and his team come up against FBI Special Agent Danny Williams, and things spin wildly out of control from there.

Same Deep Water by JiM, kalena

This isn't the first lifetime Danny's been in Hawaii. When the stress ratchets up, the dreams get more and more real. Turns out Danny has some unfinished business . . . with Steve.

Warning: Ambien use may lower inhibitions in a wakeful state.

Curiosity Didn’t Kill This Cat by unadrift

"I'm confused," Rachel says. "Are you two dating or not?"

Danny sighs. "You remember that thing with the cat in the box? The one that's both dead and alive?"

"Schroedinger's cat?"  

"It's kind of like that."

"Okay," Rachel says. She clearly has no idea what he's talking about.

2727 Piikoi Street by imaginary_iby

The ways in which Danny makes himself at home by Steve's side, and the family he gains as the years go by. (Featuring Steve in Timberland boots and little else, and happy goofs who like to make out against the front door).

All The Earth Awaits Thee by Portrait_of_a_Fool

Steve knows all about war and willpower, but this is still the hardest battle he’s ever had to fight.

* warning: life threatening illness, no MCD

The Vertical Challenge by AlamoGirl80

Five times Danny thinks about his height, and then realizes that being "not-tall" doesn't really suck at all.

Some Things to Think About When You Decide to Be an Asshole by sutlers

Steve gets high and tries to fuck Danny; things devolve from there.

Inked by thehoyden

Of course Steve is enjoying himself. They're bait for a serial killer who has some sort of serious hangup about tattooing loved ones' names on their skin -- of course Steve thinks this is practically like a vacation, but better, because the chances of collateral damage are higher.

This Thing Of Ours (It Needs a Better Name) by leupagus

Cosa Nostra: (kō'sə nō'strə) etym: Italian n. The branch of the Mafia operating in the United States. Literally, "our thing" or "this thing of ours."

Ho’oponopono by ember_firedrake

Groundhog Day AU. Danny finds himself trapped in the same day over and over again.

Swim for Brighter Days by zarah5

Danny kisses Steve late on a Tuesday, early on a Wednesday. Steve punches him. (Set vaguely post-finale, so spoilers for that.)

All My Guards Away by sheafrotherdon

Tag to episode 1x18, with all the heartache that implies. Now with bonus fixes. With thanks to dogeared for all her suggestions and edits.

Let’s Take it from the Top by pterawaters

Steve goes along with the bachelor-party-in-Vegas, because he chose Danny to be his best man, and that's what Danny wants to do. Unfortunately, the things that happen in Vegas don't necessarily stay there.

How to Keep Your Mouth Shut by primetime

Danny’s sometimes gay. Gay, sometimes. Does dudes. He doesn’t know how to say it right. He doesn’t know how to say it at all.

Don’t Turn Me Home Again by gyzym

After a rough day of island living, Danny wakes up in New Jersey and learns the hard way to be careful what he wishes for.

End-Around by t_fic

Steve hesitates with his hand on the doorknob, looking back over his shoulder at Danny and nodding once before disappearing inside, and yeah, Danny is going to be so fucking lucky to get through this night without a coronary event.

Lonely People Do Stupid Things by waketosleep

Danny decides to show Steve the true meaning of Christmas, and does it by dragging him to New Jersey.

Down Beneath the Waves by samjohnsson

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but sometimes it takes another thousand to explain it.

Love’s a Battlefield (and the Navy Did Not Train Steve for This Shit) by cyerus

The Kalakaua-Kelly clan are determined to matchmake Steve. Out of desperation, Steve makes up a boyfriend named Danny.

It doesn't quite go according to plan.

put your mind at ease by eleanor_lavish

Somewhere in the last year, while Steve was busy killing bad guys, Don’t Ask Don’t Tell has been erased from the books and guys like Jeff can marry whoever they damn well please.

You’ve Got Hawaii (and all I’ve got is you) by queenklu

In which Danny has issues, presents, and Steve fleas, not necessarily in that order.

Jaws by JoeLawson

Danny has a secret.

[kinktae]

bitchin’ || pt. 2 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 4.4k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: multiple smut scenes, science talk, banter, jealousy, alcohol & LOTS of colorful 80s slang lmao

A/N: Bitchin’ is a multichapter fic, surprise!! This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness and helping me with Yara’s character overall. Hope you appreciate the easter egg based on her!

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

PART TWO

"Yara!"

The eyes belonging to the girl in question, flashed your way, widening in alarm.

"Oh, yikes." Was her automatic response, her bag of cool ranch Doritos falling onto her lap.

You were angry, that much was evident to her. Yara was sat in your shared dorm's living room, a thick blanket engulfing her small frame. You briefly glanced towards the TV, it was tuned into MTV, the familiar music video of Every Breath You Take by The Police playing, before directing your glare back onto the copper-haired girl.

"Before you say anything," Yara began, swallowing down whatever remaining food was in her mouth, "you should know they were having a rerun of the VMAs – which I missed last night – at the same time as the lab."

"You left me alone! You said you would go to the lab yesterday!" You griped, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Yes, yes that is true but I would also like to point out the fact that Madonna performed, so it wasn't like I even had a choice when you really think about it." She countered, tone pitching comically.

"You absolutely had a choice!" You laughed, shaking your head.

"Mm... I could argue that it is a subjective opinion."

You walked over to your best friend, sighing as you slumped down beside her, placing your backpack onto the floor.

You offered Yara a sideways glance.

"Did Duran Duran at least win something?" You asked begrudgingly.

"Nothing. They were robbed!" She squinted, shaking a fist in the air angrily.

A small chuckle escaped you despite yourself.

"You really should have gone to the lab, you know." You reasoned, reaching into the bag of chips.

"And smell like frog insides for the rest of the day? Grody to the max." She responded, before flashing you a look. "No offense."

"None taken." You grumbled, her observation fully noted though.

"Besides the makeup lab is next week. What could I have possibly missed this class?" Yara dismissed you absentmindedly, turning back towards the television as she reached for another chip.

"Well." You chuckled nervously. "For one, I have a boyfriend now."

At your words, Yara froze, a chip still in her hand as she paused mid-bite.

"You what?!" She all but shrieked, causing you to jump.

"Who? How? When? Tell me everything!" Her hands found your shoulders, shaking you slightly. You shoved her off with a laugh.

"Uh, well, his name is Jungkook–"

"The Jeon Jungkook?! From our lab?" Yara interrupted, eyes wide and shining with interest.

"Um... yes?" You responded cautiously.

Yara let out a scoff, leaning back further into the couch.

"Unbelievable. I leave you alone for one day and you get a boyfriend! And a fine one at that. This is so bogus."

"Mine and Jungkook's whole relationship is bogus, Yara." You rolled your eyes.

At your words, your best friend raised an eyebrow and you took that as an invitation to continue speaking.

"I'm only pretending to date him to make his ex-girlfriend jealous."

A sharp laugh from Yara caused you to pause, watching the way her amusement was short-lived, her smile fell as she took in your serious expression.

"Oh, you're serious." She deadpanned.

You nodded, "When you didn't show up Jungkook ended up being my partner and... well, I'm still not sure how it happened but he basically offered to fund my STEM event in exchange for helping him making his girlfriend jealous."

"They are the weirdest couple." You breathed out, shoving another chip in your mouth.

"Wait... he's gonna fund your event?! Y/N, you've been planning that thing since we got to university!"

A smile found your face, your excitement once again seeing you.

"I know! I wouldn't usually get involved in someone's love life like this but was too good of an opportunity to turn down."

"Man, I'm so happy for you! Still kind of disappointed but happy nonetheless." Yara smiled, causing you to frown.

"Disappointed? Why are you disappointed?" You pressed.

Yara clicked her tongue at you, looking at you as if the reason should be obvious.

"What do you mean why am I disappointed? Here I was ecstatic to hear that my best friend has gotten a boyfriend only to find that it's got a contract behind it!"

You giggled, nudging your knee into hers. "Think of this as a smart business venture I'm embarking on."

Yara stared at you for a moment, something clearly weighing on her mind as her lips fell into a subtle pout.

"What?" You mused.

She fluttered her eyelashes, "Does this mean you aren't going to fuck him?"

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

"Yara!" You gaped.

"Because, if you want to get technical, you kind of have to so I can live vicariously through you. It's girl code." She continued, reaching over and popping another chip into her mouth.

You frowned. "That is gross and also not a thing."

"I'm serious, I'm not accepting anything less than, like, third base." Yara pressed with a wag of a finger.

"Why don't you worry about your own sexual escapades instead of worrying about mine." You paused before continuing. "Which won't be happening, for your information."

The snacking girl let out a deep groan, throwing her blanket off of her as she stood up, taking the bag of chips with her much to your dismay.

"Well, it's not my fault I'm not getting any, okay! So do us both a favor and freak his shit." She called out, walking over to the kitchen.

"Can you stop emphasizing your lack of dick for one second?" You chuckled. "If you're that desperate for dick go back to Eunwoo."

Eunwoo was a boy Yara messed around with last semester. The relationship was short-lived, Yara quick to cut things off as soon as she realized Eunwoo was looking for something more than just a brief fling. Because ironically, despite how Yara crowed about being lonely, there was nothing that sent that girl running faster than actual feelings.

"Sweetie, I'm desperate for good dick." Yara scoffed, having had emerged back into the room, her auburn hair now let down, her trusty scrunchy back around her wrist.

"Was Eunwoo really that bad in bed?" You wondered, eyeing your best friend curiously as she moved to turn off the TV that had gone neglected the moment you stepped into the room.

Yara shrugged. "No, he was fine."

"So...?"

An enthusiastic pound against the poor television box rang out, the soft side of Yara's fist having had slammed down dramatically.

"I don't want just fine, Y/N! I want dick so totally tubular that I feel it in my guts." She declared.

A sputtering cough fell from your lips as you choked on your inhale of air.

Yara looked at you with mild concern, suppressing her laughter as she walked over and began to pat your back.

"I seriously question how you wiggled your way into being my best friend." You breathed through your coughs,.

"Eat my shorts, Y/N. You love me and you know it." She dismissed easily.

You merely grinned, unable to dispute your best friend's claim.

"Now go shower." Yara ordered, using one hand to point in the direction of the bathroom, and the other to pinch her nose shut dramatically.

Sighing, you heaved yourself off the couch. You doubted you smelled as bad as Yara made you out to, but you couldn't deny that a shower sounded terrific right now.

"Yes, sir." You sent her a salute cheekily before turning to head to the bathroom, shaking your head as she called out after you.

"And when you come out I need to know every single word you and Jungkook exchanged. If you're dating him then so am I, bitch!"

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The weekend had breezed by quickly, homework and the newest Cyndi Lauper album occupying all your free time. You hardly had time to contemplate your new role as Jeon Jungkook's new girlfriend.

You and Yara had been in the midst of a conversation about what exactly she should get her little sister for her 13th birthday when you first spoke to Jungkook again.

"Cabbage patch kid?" Yara offered, causing your nose to scrunch up.

"How old do you think your sister is?"

"Hey, don't sass me. For your information, Lyanna still has all her Care Bear tapes. She threw a hissy fit when my mom tried to give them away last Christmas." Yara recalled.

"Still, she's becoming a teenager. I vote no on the cabbage patch kid."

"I'm with you, babe." Jungkook spoke up suddenly, lips pressed together as if in contemplative thought.

You hadn't even noticed him enter the classroom, much less approach and listen in onto your conversation.

"Jungkook!" You breathed out in surprise, stomach fluttering slightly as you realized what he had just called you.

"Why don't you get her a pair of roller skates?" He ignored you, placing a hand on the table and leaning onto it. You tried your hardest to ignore the way the muscles in his arm flexed with the movement.

You cleared your throat, "Roller skates?"

"Yeah. Every kid has to get a pair of roller skates. It's like a rite of passage."

"I never got roller skates…" You muttered.

"And you were robbed of a childhood." Jungkook informed you solemnly, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Sup." He said suddenly, eyes flickering to Yara as he offered her a casual nod.

You watched in amusement as a pink hue made its way onto your best friend's face, nodding back at him.

Seeing as Yara had remained silent this entire time, you realized it was probably best you introduce the two.

"Uh, Jungkook this is Yara, my best friend. Yara this is Jungkook, my... "

Business partner?

Temporary acquaintance?

"Her boyfriend." Jungkook finished for you cheekily, sending you a wink.

"Fake boyfriend." You reminded, causing Jungkook's eyes to widen.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He stated bluntly, eyes gesturing to Yara forcibly.

Oh. He thought you wouldn't tell your best friend about him? Hah.

"She already knows we're not actually dating–"

An angry shush came from the messy-haired boy, preventing you from talking further.

He hunched closer, eyes flickering across the classroom, "Keep it down, would ya? There are eyes everywhere."

"Sorry, jeez." You apologized dryly, raising a brow as you mimicked his motions.

"Bold of you to assume I won't be guiding Y/N throughout this entire arrangement." Yara spoke finally, her nose turned up slightly.

"Is that so?" Jungkook looked at her in surprise.

"Yep. In fact, I've self-appointed myself manager of your entire relationship." She replied smoothly.

Jungkook grinned, clearly finding humor in her words, "Well, then. With that kind of assertiveness, I'm sure we're in good hands. Nice to meet you, Yara."

"Likewise."

You frowned as your best friend and Jungkook shook hands.

"Anyway, as your manager, my first bit of advice for really selling this whole fake relationship thing is for the two of you to sit together. So if you'll just excuse me..."

At the sight of Yara reaching for her notebook and pen, alarm ran through you.

"Wha– Excuse me, what are you doing?" You protested immediately.

Jungkook, on the other hand, simply grinned. "Great advice!"

"Why thank you, I accept payment in cash and Annie Lennox cassette tapes."

"Yara, where are you even going?" You whined, watching as your best friend chucked her things into her bag.

"To sit at another table. Who am I to keep people in love apart? Jungkook you can take my seat."

Your shoulders slumped miserably as you watched as the smirking boy replaced Yara's spot on the stool beside you.

"Have fun, kids." She teased, waving the two of you off with a hand as she walked over to another table.

"I like her." Jungkook smiled cheesily.

"She's not kidding, you know." You warned. "If she says she's our manager then you better believe it. Whether you like it or not, she's gonna accomplish what she's set out to do."

"Reminds me of you." He replied with a hum.

You blinked in surprise.

"Was that... a compliment?"

"Was it?" His eyes went wide, voice pitched in feigned surprise.

A small laugh escaped you and before you could retort with your own sarcastic comment, your professor began to speak.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I hope you all had a good weekend." Mr. Kim greeted, his usual coffee mug in hand. He looked somewhat worse for wear, you noted. "I did. And as I sat here and reflected the choices I made Sunday night, I came to the conclusion that I will be sparing you the boring lecture this class and putting on a movie.

Widespread chatter of relief fell over the class, everyone elated to hear that this specific class would require minimal effort.

Mr. Kim had just sunk into the chair by his desk when a hand of a student shot up.

"Yes?" He answered.

The owner of the hand spoke up, "Should we take notes?"

Mr. Kim stared at the student with subtle bewilderment.

"I mean if you want? Guys, I'm gonna be honest with you all, I'm hungover as all hell. As long as you watch quietly and keep the lights off, I don't care what you do."

And with that, all the students turned back to chat amongst themselves.

It was funny, Jungkook thought, how easy you were to read when you thought no one was looking. He had been watching you through the corner of his eye, watching the way you hung onto the professor's every word and how disappointment washed over you when you realized there was no learning to be done today.

"Cute." He muttered to himself.

"What was that?" You replied absentmindedly, reaching for a sheet of paper.

Jungkook straightened in his seat, unaware he had said that out loud.

"Nothing."

You paid his reply no mind, however, pencil in hand as you began to write something onto a sheet of loose-leaf paper. Jungkook's head tilted in mild curiosity as he watched, wondering what it was you were doing.

To his surprise, the very paper of interest was then thrust his way, a soft sound ringing out as it rubbed against the cold surface of the lab table.

"What am I looking at?" Jungkook deadpanned. You shifted in your seat before responding.

"I think it's about time we talked seriously about this... relationship of ours. We need to establish rules."

Jungkook glanced back down at the paper.

"I see."

Suddenly, Jungkook's hand reached out for the zipper of his bag. You watched in silence as he pulled out the first writing utensil he could find – a blue marker – and jotted something down quickly.

You frowned, scooting your stool cautiously closer to him to get a proper look at the paper he had just written on.

"What is this?" You frowned.

"I believe it referred to legally as an amendment." He informed, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Jungkook, I'm not going to kiss you."

Despite your seriousness, a smile nearly escape your lips at the sight of Jungkook's mouth falling into a pout.

"Why not?" He asked.

You raised a brow, "Um, we're not actually dating? Did you forget that?"

Jungkook let out a small noise of what you could only assume was indignation.

"Not to sound like a total douchebag but the fact that you don't want to kiss me is, like, totally insulting."

"I agreed to be your girlfriend, not some disposable pair of lips you're allowed to use whenever you need your ego stroked. Do I need to remind you that I hardly even know you?" You hissed lowly in case someone was listening in on your conversation.

For a moment it was just you and Jungkook glaring at each other. Neither of you was going to budge, he realized. He let out a sigh.

"Look, I see your point and what this is looking like but I promise you I'm not being creepy here. No one is gonna believe we're together if we don't kiss each other. To anyone that looks, you could just be my friend if we don't show some kind of affection towards each other."

Your arms crossed over your chest, your hard expression not letting up.

"One kiss. That's all I'm asking for. Just a peck, if that's all your comfortable with." He continued, causing you to hum.

He was certainly going to a lot of trouble just for one peck.

Maybe he did have a point. One kiss wouldn't kill you, would it?

"When?" Was your response, taking him by surprise.

"Uh... whenever? Preferably somewhere people will see. Maybe at the Halloween party this weekend?"

You frowned, a thought crossing your mind.

"You want me to kiss you at a party? In front of a bunch of people?"

"Well... not if you really don't want to..." Jungkook replied, suddenly feeling bad that you might really not be all that comfortable with this whole thing.

You shook your head, "No, it's not that."

Kissing Jungkook wasn't as daunting as the idea of doing it in front of a lot of people. It wasn't that you were socially awkward, per se, but the possibility of stage fright was undoubtedly a real one.

You let your thoughts run for a while before you finally came upon a slightly annoying solution. An audible sigh left you as you grabbed your pencil and reached for the paper.

"I don't want to embarrass myself." You told Jungkook bluntly as he read the contract's newest addition, your eyes fixated on the sheet as you couldn't find the courage to meet his eyes.

"So I want our first kiss to be somewhere private where I can make sure I know what I'm doing. Familiarize with... how you kiss... and stuff..." You trailed off, the warmth in your face suddenly too distracting to let you think intelligent thoughts.

Jungkook's eyes were as wide as saucers, glued to the side of your face as if trying to decipher whether or not you were being serious. He assumed you must be as the tone in your voice wasn't mocking in the slightest.

"Oh. Yeah, sure." He nodded quickly, still noticing the way you couldn't look him in the face.

A shit-eating grin found his face, "Y/N, are you embarrassed right now?"

"No." You stressed quickly, looking over at him defensively. Your eyes fell onto his lips against your better judgment and once again you turned away from his stare, heat rocketing through you. "I just don't want you thinking anything weird like this is me wanting to kiss you."

The dark-haired boy pressed his lips together.

"Trust me, you've made your opposition against kissing me abundantly clear." He told you pointedly before reaching for the contract. You watched him gratefully, thankful for the shift in interest.

"I'm serious about there being eyes everywhere. If Kiri finds out the truth, it's game over. I'd look like a total wastoid. Not to mention I'll never hear the end of it from my brothers." Jungkook told you, pushing the paper over for you to read. Tapping the end of your pencil against the table, you pondered something before scribbling else onto the rules.

"Fair." Jungkook expressed. "As long as you can guarantee she won't tell anyone."

"Yara is lonelier than Henry David Thoreau, you have nothing to worry about." You shrugged easily.

"I... have no idea who that is."

"He's a transcendentalist writer who spent two years in isolation–"

"Oh, so you're not just a science freak. You're a well-rounded nerd." Jungkook teased, causing you to scowl.

You grabbed your pencil. You could feel Jungkook lean to peer over your shoulder, laughing lightly as he took in what you wrote. No sooner had you finished, the paper was yanked from underneath your palm, your pretend lover quick to scribble back a response.

And that was how the two of you spent the next twenty minutes, discussing rules and filling the rest of the page, muffled exchanges of giggles catching the attention of students near you as they began to wonder could possibly be on that sheet of paper that had the two of you blushing and whispering like that.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Can I put my hand in your pocket?"

The request came seemingly out of nowhere. The class had just finished and Yara had passed by your table briefly only to insist that Jungkook walked you to your dorm, promptly informing you that she and you would not be walking back together as usual, before she left the room altogether.

You sent Jungkook a pointed look as the two of you exited the classroom and walked out into the hallway.

"What like in Sixteen Candles?" You presumed, throwing your bag over your shoulder. "Nice try scumbag, I'm not letting you cop a feel of my ass."

"Why do you assume everything I say has some sort of hidden motive behind it?" Jungkook scoffed. "I was trying to be romantic."

"Oh, really?" You asked, sounding skeptical.

"I mean, sure, getting to touch your ass would've been a nice perk..."

A pleasant laugh escaped you and Jungkook felt something in his chest tightened, and before he could think to warn you, his hand found yours.

You glanced down at the gesture, a shy expression finding you suddenly as you look back up Jungkook, eyes wide and face warm as he offered you a small smile.

"It's no hand in your back pocket but... this should still get the message across to everyone." Jungkook's fingers laced between yours and you tried your hardest to appear nonchalant as if your heart wasn't in your throat right now.

You simply nodded, continuing to walk alongside him as the two of you began your journey towards your dorm building.

It wasn't entirely awful, you found.

Jungkook's hand felt nice in yours. It was warm and soft– your ex wasn't one for PDA so you had always wondered what it might be like to walk around with someone you liked like this.

Shame your first time had to be with your fake boyfriend.

You hadn't realized how social Jungkook was until just now, however. It hadn't been more than a seven-minute walk but more than a handful of people had called out to Jungkook, offering him a greeting and a wave as they went about their days.

You had brought up his apparent popularity to Jungkook but he merely laughed the statement off, saying that it just came with the territory of being in a fraternity.

"Yara's gonna be so proud when she finds out we thought to hold hands all on our own." You brought up on the elevator ride up to your dorm.

The romantic embrace had been severed the moment the metal doors had closed on you two, no longer having an audience to perform for.

"She's quite the character that Yara girl." He noted.

You shrugged, "She's not too bad once you get used to her."

Jungkook shook his head as if you had miss understood him.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. You're a lot like her, you know."

"Am I?" You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Headstrong... passionate... won't take no for an answer... seems like the only person you two would listen to is each other."

You were surprised. Once again, it was a seemingly genuine compliment that had come out of nowhere and you weren't entirely sure how to respond. You clasped your hands behind your back, a grin washing onto you.

"Pretty sure you've got bigger balls than I do." He finished his thought, causing you to snort.

"Sorry if we challenge your manhood." You joked, nudging your shoulder into his just as the elevator door open. You slipped out onto the floor, Jungkook following behind you.

"Oh don't worry about that, babe. You two can test my manhood whenever you want." He told you greasily, a suggestive smirk on his face.

"If I weren't contractually obligated to be nice to you, I would smack you."

You reached the door of your dorm a few moments later, turning to Jungkook awkwardly.

"Well, thanks for walking me." You said.

Jungkook tucked his hand into the pocket of his jacket, shrugging coolly.

"I'll see you in class on Wednesday then."

As if on cue, the door of your dorm unlocked, swinging open enthusiastically, revealing a smiling Yara.

"Wrong. You'll be seeing her tomorrow." She stated matter-of-factly.

"I will?"

"He will?"

You and Jungkook both expressed your confusion in unison. An amused expression fell over Yara.

"I did some thinking on the walk back from class and decided that Jungkook is taking you out on a date tomorrow." She explained before turning towards the man in question. "When do you finish class tomorrow?"

"Uh... three o'clock?" He answered slowly, eyes flickering to yours to see if you had any idea what your best friend was talking about. You didn't, of course.

Yara tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Perfect, Y/N's last class is at two. Come pick her up here around four."

"Oh, uh, sure." Jungkook nodded, looking somewhat scared of the small but authoritative girl standing before him.

As if snapping back into reality, you shook your head. "Hold on, I didn't agree to this. Don't I get a say in this?"

Yara's eyes flickered towards yours dully, "No."

She clapped her hands together suddenly, directing her attention back to your pretend lover.

"Thanks for walking her over. We'll see you tomorrow at four. Don't be late, bye!" Yara sang sweetly, hand reaching out to wrap around your forearm.

You let out a yelp as you were tugged into the dorm, door slamming shut as you left behind a perplexed looking Jungkook.

"What the hell was that?! Why am I going on a date with him?"

Jungkook could hear your voice through the closed door, pitched angrily and clearly directed at Yara.

"Third base, Y/N. Don't make me say it again."

"I literally can't stand you."

A small laugh fell from the boy as he stood in his place in the hallway, eyebrows furrowing in amused bewilderment as he wondered how he ended up with not just one but two stubborn fake girlfriends.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #467

“oh, mary, mary, ain’t this fun?  /  mary, mary, i’ve got a gun”

If the last person you kissed asked you to marry them, what would you do? Pray to god it wasn't in public and tell him it's waaaay too soon for that one. Does your favorite uncle have any children? Yeah, a son and daughter. Name all the members (first, middle and last names) from your favorite band. Ha, it's funny how once upon a time, I could do this. All I've got now is John Michael Osbourne. Have you ever heard a young child swear? Maybe? Have you ever seen someone get a piercing/tattoo?: Yes to both. Has a taste of something ever made you smile? Boy meet me at The Cheesecake Factory and see what my face does lmaooo As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be a paleontologist sooo badly. I wanted to discover new dinosaurs, put a shitload of work into unearthing fossils and being so proud to see the final results... Even now as an adult, if I could handle the heat, traveling, and hardcore school, I'd still love to do that. Would you cuss the person you hate the most out to their face? No. My hatred for her is unjustified and I'd rather just not say anything to her. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? No. Where do you see your closest friend in ten years? As one of the strongest people around. I imagine her with a job in medical coding, while also pursuing the hobbies of ball python breeding and writing. I'm sure she'll have loads of pets to love, too! Do you like Florence + The Machine? I've never listened to them. Did you watch the presidential debates? No. Do you ever watch Dr. Phil? No. Are you typically unattracted to people outside of your race? No; I can be attracted to any race. Have you ever ridden any animal other than a horse? No. Do you brush your hair when it’s wet? Yes. Do you eat the crusts of your bread? Yeah, I always have. Have you ever flown a kite? Yeah! At my childhood home, there was a tobacco field directly across the street, and when they weren't in season so the field was flat, Dad would help us with getting kites set up and in the air. Those are good memories. How are you for money? I don't make any money. Mom is struggling. Do you think you are more intelligent than the average person? Ha, no. Do you ever think about why we are here? Does it matter? We're here, so make the most of it. Do you like cherries? I fucking hate cherries. Name a celebrity that you admire that nobody would expect you to: Jeffree Star, probs. Can you use a yoyo? Not well, but yeah. Do you think Jenna Marbles’ videos are funny? I've actually never watched her. Do you like folk music? NOOOOOOOOO Ever had a crush on somebody of the same sex? Yes. Do you know any lesbians? Yep. Favourite member of your favourite band: I'm unfamiliar with all but Ozzy himself. And Ozzy is rad. Who’s your favourite female rapper? I don't have one. When you were younger, were you ever in a relationship with someone you now realize was way too old for you? No. Have you ever had a seizure? No. I sometimes have very, very quick spasms when I'm falling asleep that feel like what I assume a seizure would, but they barely last a second. They seriously jerk me awake, though, and are very startling. What’s the oldest man-made object you own? I dunno. Is there anything you feel like you need a break from? Not really, no. What do you hate to hear people joke about? I will actually and remorselessly deck you in the jaw if you make a joke about rape. There are other things that are absolutely forbidden joking matters for me, too. What’s the largest animal you’ve seen in the wild? Hmmm... Nothing that big, really. Maybe a whitetail deer buck? Do any of your friends or family members have strange occupations? Not to my knowledge. Have you ever been in weather so severe that you feared for your safety? Oh yeah. We've had some savage thunderstorms. What political issues are the most important to you personally? LGBTQ+ rights and just equality in general, the pro-choice movement, environmental conservation, gun control, the abolishment of poverty and homelessness... There is honestly a lot. I could keep going. Do you know anyone who doesn’t know how to cook even just simple recipes? ... Me. :x Especially now that I'm in a relationship, I really want to make a greater effort to learn. I want to prove to him I give a damn about the success of our relationship and that I'm capable of being an adult that can take part in general adult responsibilities. ^What’s stopping them from learning this basic life skill? Laziness. Forgetfulness. The fear of getting burned. What small thing makes you automatically distrust someone? I can pick up on sketchy body language from a mile away. I'm too paranoid not to. Of all the states/provinces in your country, which one is your favorite? At least from photographs I've seen, Utah appears BEAUTIFUL. That whole region of the U.S. in general. Are there any obscure foods you’ve eaten that most people have never tried? That's very unlikely. I'm far from explorative with food. When you travel to other countries, do you always try the local cuisine? I've never been outside the U.S. I would probably do that, though. I'd really want to experience the culture as thoroughly as I could. What did you do for your 19th birthday? Hell if I remember. What’s the kindest thing a total stranger has done for you? I remember as a young kid, my parents, two sisters, and I were getting food at McDonald's, and whoever was in front of us paid for our meals. Such a sweet gesture for a larger family. Have you ever used a meal kit delivery service? No, but there actually is one that I can't recall the name of that I'd like to try when I cook myself, especially getting started learning, but yeah, subscription fees. You see a lot of YouTubers get sponsored by them, if that rings a bell. Do you have any psychological issues rooted in events from your childhood? Possibly my fear of men, with my dad having been an alcoholic that had a 50/50 chance of being very angry when drunk. How organized are the files on your computer? Pretty organized, I'd say. I put stuff into folders. Would you date someone with braces? Yes? Do you ever rehearse conversations before you have them? Only always. Do you get angry at yourself or at others more often? Myself, for sure. When taking a cab, do you talk to the driver? I've never even taken a cab. Who or what greets you at the door every time you come home? Nobody, really. My cat is occasionally in the living room to see who's home, but not always because he's a lazy cat, ha ha. Do you ever chat about your favourite video games with your friends? Not really, no. I wish. Have you ever supported anyone’s Kickstarter? If so, what was it? No, bc I'm poor. Are you currently studying a language? If so, which one? No. Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? Yeah. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I want some 'cuz I'm paranoid as hell. Are you waiting on anything right now? No. Have you ever been described as shy? Is it true? Oh, always. It's absolutely true. Name something you’re a complete sucker for? Baby animals, to name one thing. Do you remember when you first went on the internet? Nope. What is one way someone could completely put you off on a first date? Arrogance/over-confidence. What about a way someone could make you like them more on a first date? Make me genuinely laugh a lot, to name one way. Are you in love right now? Not yet. I love him with our decade of history, but I need more experience as a couple before I've got the confidence to say that. Do you wanna get married anytime soon? It wouldn't be smart to. I want to be in a strong relationship for quite a few years before I want that. Have you ever kissed someone in a band? No. Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? No but oh my fucking god I wish!!!!!! Did your mom or dad ever put soap in your mouth? No, but Mom would threaten to. What was the last fruit you ate? Well, I had strawberry yogurt earlier today. Who was the last person to make you laugh? Girt. He is very, very good at that. Have you ever dated someone with more piercings than you? No. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Hell yeah man. Is there one night of your life you wish had never happened? I wish it hadn't happened the way it did. Do you have a close relationship with your sibling(s)? No. What was the last thing that you shared? Some watermelon Sour Patch Kids with my mom. Do you think people talk behind your back? You couldn't get me to believe my mom doesn't at least sometimes to my sisters even if you tried your absolute damnedest. In real life do you laugh like ‘haha,’ 'hehe’ or something else? It depends on what I'm laughing at/at what intensity. Do you have any unusual skills? Nah. Who’s your favourite person? I don't have a sole favorite person. I love many people in different ways for varying reasons. Are there any chores you actually enjoy doing? No. When did you last have an "Oh, I get it now!" moment? Watching Attack on Titan yesterday w/ Girt. Have your parents ever suspected something untrue about you? My mom HAD to have suspected I was doing something FAR worse than innocent meerkat RP to have borderline fucking traumatized me invading my privacy and forcing shit out of me regarding what I was always doing on the computer so secretively. Like I get it, she was a concerned mother, but I was a fucking WRECK because I found it so embarrassing. It was insulting that she didn't trust her well-behaved daughter. What do you think about video games? They're great for both the creators and consumers. They're wonderful expressions of creativity, and so much fun to experience as a player, delving into a new world and getting engrossed in the story. I could go onnnn and onnnnn about what video games mean to me. I've gone my whole life as a loyal gamer. Are there any forms of Art you personally find pointless? I really, really don't get a lot of abstract art that's worth fucking thousands, BUT, I absolutely disagree that they are without purpose. The artist created what they did for SOME reason. As a distraction, a method of expressing emotion, to convey an idea... Are you tired right now? I have been SO ridiculously tired today. Like it's unreal. I've taken I wanna say three naps and I'm still sleepy. What’s something you do a lot? Drink something. I'm not talking about alcohol; just in general, I ALWAYS need some kind of drink by me, and I go through drinks pretty quickly. Are you currently on any other websites? Yeah, I'm watching YouTube. Are you good at using Photoshop? I'm decent, I guess. Have you ever been told you naturally tilt your head a certain way? Yes, actually, at least by my mom, and she's right. My head tends to tilt VERY slightly to the right, and I can tell by how easy it is to bend my head that way as opposed to left. I'll feel a biiiit more strain.

[8ball-wizard]

11 - Jeremy and Michael

well. you get way more that 10 sentences, because i totally forgot how the ask game worked and my brain is currently preoccupied by dogsitting the world's most angry puppy.

Jeremy is, most likely, the worst friend anyone could ever have. He's gross, and mean even when he doesn't want to be, and he manages to be the most spacey, forgetful human to ever exist at the worst possible times.

You see, it was Michael's birthday. Was. Yesterday. It ended 45 minutes ago. And Jeremy, being the human embodiment of a scratched chalkboard, forgot Michael's birthday. Which nearly ended an hour ago. He can't just let that happen; he practically owes Michael the equivalent of 18 of his lives, by this point. Even forgetting the nightmare that was junior year, Michael's always been the one to bail Jeremy out of a shitty situation, or to offer him comfort during a rough patch, or to remember things that are important to his best friend of nearly thirteen years.

He had to fix this immediately. He would have fixed it thirty minutes ago, had he not immediately started crying. That's been his first instinct for a while now, since the Squip kind of pavlov'd all of his sorta okay coping mechanisms into oblivion. It can't block his tear ducts anymore, and it never technically discouraged crying in the first place, so it's all he's got. And, now that he has the freaking out part out of the way, he needs a plan to make it up to him.

Step one: make a list. He's okay at lists. He's been making lists since he started writing, and the habit never left him. He's made lists of favorite colors, favorite games, favorite porn stars, the easiest ways to die without anyone missing him (his therapist helped him break that one down until the concept itself made him a little embarrassed in it's wrongness,) and, of course, ways to make everything up to Michael after he saved the play and also likely the world. Not missing his birthday next year is going on that list. But, first, he needs a list of places that are open at one in the morning where he can get a cake and a gift.

A quick google search only brings up restaurants and drug stores. He almost starts sobbing again, but decides to just say fuck it and steal his dad's keys. CVS is better than nothing.

He almost cries again in CVS, but the fear of being made fun of for bawling at a drugstore in the middle of the night outweighs the panic building at the base of his throat. He's so stupid, and a terrible friend, and, and, and-

"Jeremy?"

Michael's standing at the end of the aisle, in his pajama pants, little basket in hand. And, suddenly, he's rushing closer, because need outweighs fear, and Jeremy's crying at about 1:30 in a CVS while he's staring at the birthday cards. He's crying, and Michael's hugging him, and it always comes back to Michael comforting Jeremy despite him being bad, and evil, and unworthy.

"Jeremy, hey, shh- what's wrong, dude?" Michael's voice is soft and caring, and Jeremy hates it, because he should be yelling at him and telling him to fuck off. Jeremy's a bad friend, and he's unworthy of love, and Michael will never believe him, but it's true.

"I- I'm sor-or-orry- I didn' mean to mi-iss your birthday-" He almost starts explaining why, but he knows there's no real excuse for not even sending a text. Michael makes a face that throws him off, though, too soft and concerned and perplexed and not angry.

"Jeremy, my birthday's next week, dude. No harm, no foul."

Oh. Oh, that would actually make a lot of sense. The relief sends him into another little crying jag, and he hugs Michael so tightly that he might accidentally fuse their chests together.

He takes his time pulling himself together, gulping down deep breaths and wiping his eyes. "Ugh. Sssorry. Weird day. Had an e-em-emerg- mmh, surprise meeting with my therapist, and took a six hour nap."

Michael smiles and nods. "Yeah, that'll do it, alright. It's all good, man. You're not missing anyone's birthday, and nobody's mad at you. All good."

Jeremy attempts a weak little smile and nods. "All good."

[randomk-imagines]

Blue and Purple

words: 6.5k

genre: soulmates, friends to lovers, slight angst (but not really), a little Markhyuck

summary: different soulmates get different connections and yours just so happens to be getting the same cuts and bruises as the other.

a/n: Uh idk how I feel about this and also how did it come to be 6.5k??? Also, some swearing, but what’s new (: 

gif creds

You were told that on your 19th birthday, you’ll be connected to your soulmate. The connections varied with each pair. Your parents’ connection was a small tattoo on their wrists they had woken up to one day. Your sister’s was the ability to telepathically communicate to hers. You’ve read that some people are able to draw on their skin and it will show up on their soulmate’s skin as well. Some can even see a red string appear when they wake up.

You were excited about what kind of ability you’ll end up with. Maybe you’ll be able to talk to them. Maybe you’ll find a thin, red string tied around your pinky finger that leads to them. Maybe you’ll have a timer and when it ends, you’re supposed to be able to meet your soulmate then. 

When you wake up on your 19th birthday, you don’t expect your limbs to ache and have your body littered in bruises.

You try to recall when you would’ve ever fallen down or even had gotten hit by a ball or something. You were a little clumsy, but yesterday was Sunday and you had nowhere to be. How could you have possibly gotten all these bruises?

Your mom comes in with a plate of food and a bright smile on her face when you’re standing in front of your bedroom mirror to inspect your blue and purple patches. 

“Aww honey, you’ve got your soulmate connection,” she coos.

“This is how I’m supposed to find my soulmate? The person covered in bruises?” you scoff. Unbelievable.

You currently have your head laying down in your arms, sulking, waiting for class to start when your best friend, Jaemin plops down in the seat next to yours. 

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he beams. You bring your head up and pout at him. “What crawled up your ass?”

“I think my soulmate got hit by a truck,” you grumble. Jaemin gives you a wtf look.

“What makes you say that?” he huffs out a laugh.

“It’s the only conclusion I can come up with. How else did I end up with bruises all over my legs and arms and even some on my side? They hurt and I’m mad at my soulmate.” You plop your head back down on your arms. 

Jaemin snorts. He’s about to make a comment when he sees a glimpse of a bruise on the top of your shoulder where your shirt slips down a bit. He squints at it curiously then glances down at his own bruised shoulder. 

It’s the exact same bruise.

His insides start churning as he gulps down on air. 

You can’t be his soulmate. You were always so excited to find your soulmate, yet all he’ll end up causing you is pain? He can’t do it. He can’t cause his best friend of six years, the girl he’s liked for four years, his apparent soulmate pain just because he stubbed his toe or knocked his hip into a wall.

He’s weighed the pros and cons of dating his best friend and every time the cons came out on top. What if the relationship didn’t work and you ended up hating each other? Stopped being friends? He couldn’t deal with that. But apparently, the universe said a big “Fuck you,” and decided to make you his soulmate. 

“Maybe they’re just clumsy,” Jaemin shrugs. “I feel bad for whoever is your soulmate. You fall constantly. They probably have bruises from you tripping over your own two feet every day.”

Your frown deepens and you punch Jaemin in the arm a little harder than usual. He flinches from the sudden punch and hisses in pain at the same time you jump as well, a sharp pain striking your upper arm as well.

He glances over at you and sees you flinch as well, only confirming even more that you two are connected. You, however, scrunch your eyebrows together, not understanding what happened. You look around your surroundings to see what you knocked into, but don’t see anything. Your desk is clean.

You shrug it off. It probably fell asleep from you laying on it.

“What happened to you, Jaemin?” Mark asks, pointing to the giant bruise on Jaemin’s side. His shirt was hiked up from reaching for a book in the library, revealing a small portion of his side.

You look up from your laptop just as Jaemin’s shirt falls back in place. 

Jaemin glances down at his side then back up at Mark sheepishly.

“I fell down my stairs yesterday,” Jaemin chuckles awkwardly.

You and Mark shake your heads together, disappointed, but knowing him, not surprised. He was probably texting or just being an idiot while he was walking and ended up falling down. 

“I feel bad your soulmate is gonna have to put up with that,” Mark tsks. Jaemin knows Mark is referring to him being a walking hazard but he can’t help the spike of nervousness and fear at his words. 

Jaemin shoots a nervous glance at Mark then glances over at you. You don’t seem to take in Mark’s comment as you go back to working on the paper and Jaemin lets out a sigh of relief. 

Jaemin sits down across from you and starts reading the book he’d just picked up. He starts absentmindedly swinging his legs out of habit when he hits the table leg. A loud thunk sounds and he flinches, but you end up flinching even more.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks you.

“I think my soulmate is trying to kill me,” you hiss at the sharp pain in your shin. Jaemin bites his lip, feeling once again, horrible at being so careless.

You and Mark don’t notice his internal turmoil and get back to work after cussing out your mystery soulmate.

“What’s your soulmate link?” You ask Mark.

The three of you are laying down on the roof of Mark’s house just star gazing. His house is practically in the woods so it’s a nice spot away from the light pollution.

“I’m able to get glimpses of their day. It’s strange. I don’t recognize the places.” He shrugs. “I’ll find them eventually.”

“What if they’re watching the same movie as you and you see that same movie then bam! You found them.” Jaemin says, his hands making wild gestures in front of him. 

“What do you think your connection will be?” You curiously glance at Jaemin. 

He stops moving his arms mid-air and looks at you. He nervously gulps.

Should he tell you that he already knows who his soulmate is, even though he’s a few months away from being 19? Should he tell you that his soulmate connection will be feeling the physical pain you feel? Should he just spill everything and tell you that he’s liked you for years even though you’ve, very honestly, spoken about how dating friends is not an option because you don’t want to stir up any drama through fights or break-ups?

“Uh maybe I’ll have a timer,” he shrugs. He mentally kicks himself for being so afraid. You’re his soulmate. You obviously have a connection to each other, but that doesn’t mean you have to be together...

“Woah, that’d be so fun. You’d know exactly when you meet your soulmate!” You beam at him. He just gives you a small smile back.

“Yeah. Fun,” Jaemin sighs. 

The three of you graduate high school and finish your first year of university and you still haven’t figured out your soulmate. 

It’s frustrating, really. 

Mark found his soulmate when the three of you were at the university’s cafe and he was able to see himself sitting at a distance. He quickly looked around the entire cafe, confused and intrigued at the same time because he was finally near his soulmate and it seemed that his soulmate was glancing over at him already.

They instantly clicked and Mark’s soulmate, Donghyuck, was warmly welcomed in your trio. You and Donghyuck quickly became close and in fact, you were currently laying down in his dorm room right now, sulking.

Jaemin and Mark were still class and you had finished your homework, so you decided to chill with Donghyuck. Chill, as in, complain.

He became the one you went to with your problems since he always gave out good advice and comforted you. He could really be a handful sometimes, but he was a great friend when he needed to be, like now.

“I just don’t understand. How am I supposed to find my soulmate with these cuts and bruises?” you huff out. The two of you were on his bed, your head resting in his lap while he was playing on his phone. “I’m just so tired of not being able to find them,” you pout.

“Have you looked around to see if anyone has the same marks as you?” he asks.

He had quickly figured out that Jaemin was your soulmate within a few days. The bruises really gave it away. He doesn’t understand how you don’t see them. He’s also quickly figured out that Jaemin likes you. He’s not very subtle about it. He glances over at you when you’re not looking and he’s always following you around like a lost puppy. You’re just really dense, he’s concluded.

Mark, Jaemin, and Hyuck were together while you were still in class when he asked Jaemin about it, purely out of curiosity. Jaemin told him everything and said he didn’t want you to find out and end up being disappointed in realizing it was him. For the next three hours, he and Mark tried convincing Jaemin that you wouldn’t be disappointed, but it fell deaf to his ears.

“Of course I have but do you know how hard it is to find someone with the exact same bruises as you without looking creepy?” you groan. “Soulmate connections are dumb. Why do we need it anyway? Are we just not capable of finding someone on our own?” You scoff. 

“Well, they’re there for a reason. Whether you chose to seek them out or not is up to you,” Hyuck shrugs. “But I really think if you just stop and look around, you’ll be able to find them.”

You glare up at Donghyuck. It’s not the first time he’s said that to you and you’re about to smack him and tell him to just say what he means. You’ve looked all over the place. It’s literally all you did for an entire month when you entered university, yet no one seemed to have the same bruises as you and when it looked like they had similar ones, they ended up already having found their soulmate. 

It was always frustrating and disheartening when you asked them about it or whenever you saw other people with their soulmates. Heck, even your best friends had found theirs!

You just wanted to find your soulmate, yet they didn’t seem to want to find you.

“You’re late. Got caught up in the library again?” Mark shakes his head when he lets you into his dorm room.

It was Friday meaning it was your friend’s movie night. You all had decided on making a movie night when the four of you all agreed that parties weren’t your things and you wanted to procrastinate your homework for just a little while longer. 

“Kind of,” you say as you toe off your shoes. You follow Mark into his room and plop down on his bed next to Jaemin while Mark settles down on the ground next to Donghyuck. “I met someone,” you say as you lean against Jaemin’s side, preparing yourself to fall asleep to the movie Mark picked out.

The three of them all turn towards you with shocked faces and a collective, “Huh?”

“Your soulmate?” Mark cautiously asks. He knew you and Jaemin were soulmates, yet he couldn’t help but ask. Maybe you thought you’d found your soulmate. Would it then be up to the three of them to convince you that your soulmate was sitting right next to you?

Jaemin and Donghyuck glance at each other, confused and nervous. 

“As if,” you scoff. “I gave up on the whole soulmate thing,” 

“What!?” They all shout at you. It makes you jump, not expecting that reaction from all of them. 

“I’m tired of waiting for them and if they’re not going to make an effort to find me, then I’m not going to keep waiting for them.” You frown.

Jaemin’s heart sinks.

He wills his tears to not fall out of his eyes because really, it was all his fault.

Not seeking you out or giving you a sign that he was trying to seek you out, that he was right there. He didn’t even give you hope your soulmate, was in fact, always near you and now you had given up. He was too afraid and it ended up hurting you.

“That’s most definitely not what I told you to do,” Donghyuck shakes his head. He shoots Jaemin a look, telling him to tell you already, but Jaemin shook his head. He can’t.

He’s a coward and he doesn’t deserve to be your soulmate. All he does is inflict pain on you.

“Who is it?” Mark asks.

“Lee Jeno from my calc class. He needed help and I tutored him and he just asked me out,” you shrug. “He doesn’t care about the whole soulmate thing either and well I thought, why not,”

“What if you find your soulmate one day?” Jaemin asks from beside you. 

“Well maybe if they tried finding me this wouldn’t have happened,” you snap.

You’re tired of waiting and Jeno was there. You decided to give him a chance and you’ve had a lot of fun with him. He’s really nice and funny. He’s been a huge gentleman to you and you were able to hang out with his friend group. They were a rowdy bunch, but you weren’t complaining. They were loud and boisterous, but welcomed you in and didn’t care that you weren’t soulmates. 

Mark, Donghyuck, and Jaemin all fall silent. You don’t understand why they’re so hung up on the soulmate thing. Yeah, Mark and Donghyuck found each other, but you’ve come to realize that that’s not as common as you had originally thought. In fact, the whole soulmate system was flawed and you were over it.

Mark started the movie, but you didn’t pay attention to it, too worked up over their reactions to pay attention. 

Jaemin kept fidgeting and it knocked you each time since you were still leaning on his shoulder. 

You smacked his arm lightly. “Can you stop moving? It’s jostling me too,” you frown up at him.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and stops moving immediately. 

You stop seeing Jaemin around constantly after that. He’s a different major than you, so it’s to be expected, yet it seems like he’s disappeared, although you know he hasn’t since Mark and Donghyuck seem to see him every day.

You ask them about it, but they just tell you he’s busy with upcoming exams. 

The next time you see him, however, is when he’s chugging down two cans of beers with a random group of people at a party.

Jeno invited you to come to a party one of his friends was hosting. You still weren’t much of a party person, but he promised you that he’d stay by your side the entire night. You eventually told him you’d come and he hasn’t broken his promise since the two of you stepped inside.

He constantly had his arm around your back, guiding you around, or holding your hand, making sure you were there with him and feeling okay. He had gone to the bathroom though and told you to just wait for him in the kitchen. That’s when you saw Jaemin out of the corner of your eyes.

He was with one of the kids in your biology class, Renjun, and someone from your communications class, Lucas. There were a few others around him, also chugging down some drinks, but you didn’t recognize their faces.

“Jaemin?” you yell over the music as you approach him.

He whips his head towards you as soon as he hears your voice. He’s done his best to avoid you, not wanting to see you since you started dating Jeno. It only reminded him how much of a coward he was. He’s still done his best to be cautious and prevent himself from injuring his limbs so you didn’t have to feel anything, but you seemed to want to keep knocking into things to remind him that you were still connected.

“Y/n?” he asks, a little slurred from the alcohol in his system.

“What are you doing here and why are you downing beers?” 

“Am I not able to do what I want, mom?” he asks rather harshly. He instantly regrets it, seeing you flinch back at his tone, but it’s too late to take it back.

“I was just asking.” You glare at him before storming off. 

You head straight for the front door, not wanting to be in the suffocating frat house anymore. You send Jeno a text to tell him you’re outside before pocketing your phone and plopping your hands down on the front porch railing.

You’re not sure why Jaemin’s comment got you worked up, but it did, and now you just want to go home. You haven’t seen him in two weeks, much less talked to him, so the interaction with your best friend put you in a bad mood. He didn’t need to be so rude about it.

“What’s up, y/n?” you hear Jeno ask from behind you. He slots himself next to you, knocking into your shoulder a bit in an attempt to loosen you up. 

“Nothing,” you huff.  He raises his eyebrows at you, obviously not buying it. You sigh. “Jaemin was just being a dick.”

“Jaemin?” he tilts his head to the side. “I thought you said he didn’t like parties,”

“I didn’t think he did either, but he was there and he was downing beer like it was nothing,” you shrug. You lean your head on Jeno’s shoulder and he just wraps his arm around you.

“The alcohol probably clouded his speech and made it come out harsher than he thought. I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Jeno tries cheering you up. You just hum, still upset, but more upset at the fact you don’t know why it made you this upset. 

You and Jaemin have had plenty of fights over the years and you always made up soon after them. It’s the first time the two of you hadn’t talked to each other in weeks without any explanation and the first time he’s snapped at you for seemingly no reason. 

A loud bang and some yelling coming from inside the frat house spooked the two of you out of silence. You glance at each other before rushing inside to see the commotion.

What you don’t expect to see is Jaemin and another guy in the middle of a fight.

You don’t understand why it’s happening, but you do understand that your best friend is currently throwing punches at another boy mercilessly. 

“Na Jaemin!” you scream and push your way through the crowd of people. You grab onto his arm, trying to cease his punching, but he just ends up colliding his elbow with your cheekbone, causing you to fall to the ground. You yell in pain and clutch your cheek and that’s what seems to catch Jaemin’s attention. 

He glances back at you, horrified at what he had done. The other guy takes Jaemin’s halt to get back at him, however and kicks him in the side and Jaemin falls to the ground. 

The fight gets stopped when a bunch of Jeno’s friends hold the other guy back from fighting anymore.

Jeno rushes over to you and helps you up, asking if you’re okay. Your throbbing cheek gets dismissed when you stand up and find your side aching. You didn’t fall on your side, but you know someone who had just got kicked in his side and is currently rocking the same blotchy bruise on his cheekbone as you. 

You don’t process Jeno’s worries and you just stare at Jaemin. He seemingly understands why you’re shocked and he quickly slaps a hand over his own bruised cheek. “I can explain,” Jaemin starts, reaching out to you.

You smack his hand away rather harshly, feeling the same slap to your own hand and it all of a sudden clicks in your head. The bruises you wake up to when you know you hadn’t done anything to get them. The way Jaemin limps sometimes the day after you had knocked into the corner of your desk and when someone asks him about it, he just says he knocked into something as well. The way whenever you or your friends punch him, you get a dull ache in the same place as well. 

You don’t process Jeno trying to take you away to the kitchen to put ice on your cheek and instead glare up at your best friend. “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. I can’t believe you!” You yell at him.

How could he lie to you all this time? How could he tell you that his soulmate connection was just some timer he could see and whenever you asked what time his countdown was at, he just said in a few years? How could he keep it a secret from you for a year?

You shrug off Jeno’s attempts at asking you what’s wrong and storm out of the house, leaving a speechless and shocked Jaemin in the middle of the room.

You’re walking down the house’s driveway when you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Leave me alone, Na Jaemin!” you scream and roughly shove off the hand. 

“It’s me,” you hear Jeno’s soft, calm voice ring. It makes you stop immediately and turn around. 

“I’m so sorry. I just thought you were Jaemin and I don’t know I’m so confused and mad and I don’t know what to think.” You suddenly burst out in tears. You’re stressed and confused and the sudden realization that your best friend is your soulmate is a lot.

Jeno pulls you into his chest, one of his hands resting on the back of your head while his other is wrapped around your waist, holding you close. The thumb on your side rubs soothing circles, but it does nothing to calm you down. 

“Is Jaemin your soulmate?” Jeno asks. 

You choke up, not wanting it to be real, but you and Jeno already know.

“Why him? Why Jaemin? I- fuck,” you hiccup into Jeno’s chest. 

Jaemin runs out of the house to explain everything and try to fix everything but freezes when he sees you and Jeno. He knows the two of you are dating, yet it still strikes him in the heart. He can’t do anything about it and it pains him to see you in someone else’s arms, even more so the reason you’re there is because of himself.

He sees Jeno whisper something to you and starts leading you to his car. It drives off, but not before Jaemin makes eye contact with you as you glance out the window.

“You need to talk to him,” Donghyuck sighs.

It’s been a week since the party. Since you found your soulmate, yet you haven’t done anything to speak to him. 

You did tell Jeno the next morning that you were breaking up with him and Jeno understood, even told you congratulations for finding your soulmate and that you should be with him instead. However, you made no effort to even so much as look for Jaemin after the party and Jaemin didn’t seem to make an effort either. 

If you saw Jaemin walking in your direction, you immediately turned the other way and sped off in the opposite direction; didn’t matter that you were a few minutes late to your next class.

“I can’t,” you mumble from under your comforter. Donghyuck was sitting on your bed rubbing your back to try to comfort you and give you advice, but you weren’t taking it in. “What if there’s a reason he didn’t tell me? What if he doesn’t even want to be my soulmate and that’s why he didn’t tell me?”

You hear Donghyuck scoff. “Are you kidding me? He’s so whipped for you that he turned down the soccer team when Mark pointed out how many bruises and sore muscles he’ll get after practices and realize you’d get them as well.” Donghyuck smacks your head lightly.

“I thought he just didn’t make it on the team,” you pout. You remember the day Jaemin told you about the team roster. 

He was so excited when he found out the university had a good soccer team and that they were looking for new players that he immediately bolted over to their booth and signed his name for try-outs.

You waited for him outside of his class the day the team lineup was supposed to be announced. You were so sure he was going to be placed on the team, you even bought him a little cupcake to celebrate, but he came out of his class with a sad smile. When he told you he didn’t make it on the team, you were so mad at the captain for not seeing how Jaemin had literally swept the team off their feet and made each goal during tryouts, you were ready to storm to their dorm and demand he was put on the team, but Jaemin just told you it was fine and it’s for the best. 

You frowned at your best friend and gave him the cupcake anyways, telling him that it’s to heal his wounded heart instead. 

“You’re so oblivious.” Donghyuck tsks. 

“What do I do?” you whine as you kick him in the leg. 

“Well, what do you want to do? Do you like him?” Donghyuck gently asks. 

You whine from under your sheets. 

You did. You did for a while. 

When you first realize you liked your best friend, you were a sophomore in high school. You were deathly ill that day and stayed home from school. Jaemin had spammed you about coming to school, but you told him you had the flu and were dying from how shitty you felt. Throughout the day, he kept on texting you, asking if you were okay or just to tell you how much of an ass the teachers were being that day.

Near the end of the school day, he stopped texting you and you were kind of relieved, finally able to get a nap in without your phone dinging loudly a few seconds after another when you didn’t respond right away. Truthfully, you found it quite annoying, but underneath the constant messages, he was really worried.

You were drifting in and out of consciousness when the doorbell to your house rang. You were going to ignore it as it was probably just some annoying salesman that was trying to sell you another window seal, but the doorbell rang three more times in a row, effectively pissing you off.

You threw off your comforter and stormed your way down the stairs. “Who the fuck?!” You yelled although it came out more of a rasp due to your dry throat, as you opened the door. “Why are you here?” You ask, finding it was Jaemin standing outside.

“I thought you’d be lonely and hungry, so I’m here! Mark said he didn’t want to catch any disease you had so he decided to go home. Pussy,” Jaemin scoffed. 

“What the hell? Leave. You’re going to get sick too,” you said and closed the door. He put a foot in the door, blocking it from fully shutting. 

“At least take this soup!” he shouts. He shoves a bag of soup in your direction. You just stare at it. He’s never done something like this and you’re not sure why it makes your stomach flutter and your face heat up. You deduce it to your ill body and brush it off. 

“Thanks now bye.” You say and take the soup, slamming the door in Jaemin’s face afterwards.

“You’re welcome! And take a shower, you smell!” you hear him shout from behind the door. 

You scowl at the memory. How could you like your best friend? He’s supposed to be just your best friend! Feelings get complicated and mess everything up in the end.

“Y/n?” Donghyuck asks. 

“I don’t know,” you sigh. You emerge from your blanket and sit up. “I told myself that I wouldn’t date my friends. It’ll just get messy,” you frown as you pick at some loose strings on the blanket. 

“It’ll only get messy if you make it messy.” Donghyuck gives you a look.

You hate that he’s right

You told yourself all day that you’ll text Jaemin and ask him to meet you somewhere, but it’s now 3am and you still haven’t made a move. You were so afraid.

You kept going over what would happen if you confronted him about the soulmate thing and each time, it turned sour.

Mark and Donghyuck had stopped nagging you an hour ago, probably have fallen asleep, but you were still wide awake. You knew Jaemin was a night owl and the fact that it’s the weekend, he’s most definitely still awake.

You sit in your bed for ten more minutes, cursing yourself out for being such a coward, before you finally make up your mind. You’re going up to Jaemin’s dorm and fixing this mess. You miss your best friend and just want to sort this whole thing out. Doesn’t matter what the two of you chose to do from then on.

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you stand in front of his dorm room, ready to knock on the door.

You’re in an oversized hoodie, hair tied up in a bun, and your glasses are perched on your face. It was a rash decision and you really regret not changing into something more presentable.

You hesitate to knock on his door, but when the third person walks by you, sending you a strange look, you decide that you hate standing outside awkwardly more than confronting your best friend and knock on the door.

It takes a while for you to hear anything, but you hear the soft footsteps of someone coming right before the door swings open to reveal a sleepy looking Jaemin.

His hair is sticking up in all sorts of directions and his eyes are puffy from just waking up. You’re glad he sleeps with his shirt on or at least decided to put a shirt on before answering the door because you’re not sure how you’d handle a topless Jaemin at 3am.

“Y/n?” he asks surprised. 

“Uh hey,” you give him a small wave and an awkward smile. 

The two of you stand in silence for a few seconds before Jaemin realizes you’re standing out in the hallway of the boy’s hall and ushers you in. 

The dorms aren’t big at all but it seems way smaller when you’re standing in the middle of his room while he just stares at you.

“What are you doing here?” Jaemin asks, breaking the silence.

“I just wanted to talk about everything,” you mumble. 

Jaemin understands right away what you mean and stiffens up. He’s nervous about what you’ll say, what you’ll do. Will you reject the whole soulmate thing and stay with Jeno or will the two of you try it out or will you just dismiss the whole thing and act like you’re just two best friends with no connection to each other whatsoever. 

He’s unsure and not knowing what you’re thinking scares him the most. 

“When did you figure out we were soulmates?” you break him out of his thoughts. 

“You’re 19th birthday,” he bites his lip. You’re taken aback at his response. That long? He’s known for that long and never told you!? “I noticed you had the same bruises as me and well when you punched me in the arm you flinched too and just I connected two and two together and figured it out...”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You frown. “Did you not want to be my soulmate?” You ask sadly. 

As much as you’ve told yourself it’s fine if he doesn’t accept you to be his soulmate, it still hurts. You’ve been together for years as best friends. You already told yourself it was fine if he didn’t like you, but to just straight up dismiss the connection you two had? It hurts.

“No! Of course not!” he speaks right away. He quickly takes a few steps towards you until he’s right in front of you. You instinctively try to give yourself more space, but he places his hands on your shoulders, effectively keeping you in place. “I-I didn’t want you to be disappointed when you found out I’m your soulmate,”

You look up at Jaemin confused. 

“I really like you, y/n. I’ve liked you since we were freshman when you slipped in front of the whole school during lunch and hurried to come sit down next to me really embarrassed that you grabbed my jacket and hid underneath it,” he explains. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment at the memory. You literally fell in front of the entire school and everyone looked to stare at you, wondering what happened. You just tripped over your own two clumsy feet and fell flat on your face. It was horrible and embarrassing and you stayed away from that cafeteria for an entire week afterwards.

You throw punches at him in the chest for bringing up that memory. “I can’t believe you brought that up! I can’t believe you even remember that!” You’re embarrassed and you don’t even process the fact he just told you he liked you.

Jaemin laughs and catches your fists from hitting him anymore. You struggle in his hold, still trying to punch him when he pulls you in closer. You collide with his chest at the same time he drops your hands to the side in favour of wrapping his hands around you back, keeping you close.

“I really really like you, y/n,” he says softly. He rests his head on top of yours as you stand still in his arms. “You said you never wanted to date your friends so I always kept quiet. When you said you had given up on finding your soulmate, I felt like a coward for never telling you. When you started dating Jeno, I couldn’t stand it. Every time I saw you with him, it always reminded me of how much I hated myself for never telling you so I tried my best to stay away from you,” 

You bite your lip. You never knew he felt that way. His actions always came off as he didn’t care what you did, so you gave up on your feelings for him. You swore to yourself that dating a friend would just turn out poorly, but in the end, it was just an excuse to hide your feelings. Even when you started dating Jeno, you could never truly shake off your feelings for Jaemin.

“Jaemin...” you said, but he cut you off.

“I’m so sorry about what happened at that party. I didn’t mean to snap at you but just seeing you with Jeno when I entered, I let loose. I started downing so much alcohol to lessen the pain, but it didn’t work and I just lost it,” He lightly held you tighter. “That guy I was fighting kept talking about you and kept saying all this shit about how much of a nice fuck you’d be and I just couldn’t stand it and punched him. I didn’t mean to hit you too. I didn’t mean for you to find out we were soulmates that way.”

“Jaemin, it’s fine,” you say. You finally wrap your arms around him after the initial shock of his confession hits you. Your heart swells, but you’re still unsure of how to tell him. “I was really shocked to find out that you're my soulmate and I was mad at first, but I regret not letting you explain yourself,” you sigh.

You break apart from Jaemin’s hold, wanting to look at his face when you tell him. “I really like you too. Actually, I’ve liked you for a while,” you sheepishly say. You feel your ears burn red and see Jaemin’s eyes become larger. “I tried hinting at it in high school, but you never seemed to understand so I just thought you thought of me as just a friend so I kind of gave up. I told myself it’d be wrong to date a friend in case it ends badly and made up a dumb rule as an excuse to save my feelings.” 

“You like me?” He asks, still shocked at your confession.

“Yes, you big idiot,” you roll your eyes. “You know, you’re really dense sometimes.” You scoff. You know he’s standing in front of you, trying to wrap his brain around your confession. His hands that are still holding your side are frozen as his expression is still shocked. He doesn’t say anything, and you’re really starting to get annoyed at his response, or lack thereof. 

A few seconds pass by and he still hasn’t said anything and you’re over it. You stand on your toes as you bring your hands up to his cheeks and kiss him on the lips. It’s a small peck, really, but it seems to do the job.

His face flushes instantly and he stutters out a response. 

“You’re really an idiot. I can’t believe I like someone like you,” you shake your head at his reaction. 

“I wasn’t ready!” he complains. You laugh at his whining when he suddenly tackles you out of embarrassment at his reaction. 

You’re thankful him and his roommate decided not to loft their beds together when the two of you fall on his bed. Jaemin buries his head in the crook of your neck as he whines, still embarrassed. You laugh at his cute reaction and comb your hand through his hair, trying to calm his dumb self down.

“Ugh, get a room!” Donghyuck yells as he and Mark walk up to the booth you and Jaemin are sitting at. 

The four of you planned to meet up with each other at the cafe after your exams were done with to celebrate, but they were late, as usual, and you were bored. You had since seated yourself in Jaemin’s lap and started messing around with him. He teasingly complained that you were heavy and you knocked your back into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Not remembering your connection, it effectively knocked the wind out of you.

Jaemin teased you for it and you just grumbled in response. He giggled and started pinching your sides lightly to tickle you and since he wasn’t ticklish, he didn’t feel it. You wiggled in his lap, struggling to get away from his hold, but he kept you close and in the end, you were left breathless from laughing and struggling away.

You heads were close together, Jaemin’s more like nuzzling into your neck. His hair tickled your cheeks and you kept giggling when he spoke, you could feel the vibrations against your neck.

Upon hearing Donghyuck’s gagging, the two of you looked up and stuck your tongues out at him. 

“So childish. No wonder you two are soulmates. You’re perfect for each other,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. 

“Makes up for every time we had to sit through you and Mark being disgustingly romantic together,” you retort back. 

Donghyuck kicks you from under the table, obviously over your childish act.

You jump at the sudden pain in your shin at the same time Jaemin yelps out in pain. The two of you glare over at Donghyuck while he just smirks to himself. 

“Violence is never the answer.” Mark disapproves. 

“He started it!” You and Jaemin point your fingers at Donghyuck.

“I wish I never pushed you two to get together.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

[danitoslitty]

took this off of @riding-ricciardo bc i am bored :3

Preferred Name: Freya, or Frey.

Birthday: 28th February.

Where do you live: Australia! 🇦🇺 I adore it here, wouldn’t change where I live for the entire world.

How has the pandemic treated you: Okay, kind of. I’m naturally extremely introverted so being in lockdown hardly phased me at all. And I was already on a break from working because of personal stuff. So it fucked with me a lot less than other people :’(

A song you can’t stop listening to: Secrets, Faouzia. She’s incredibly emotionally vulnerable in her music- I discovered her at the beginning of the year when I was going through some shit and haven’t stopped listening since.

Recommend a movie: Going the childhood route and saying Spirit: Stallion of a Cimarron. My all time favourite movie, full of soul and bitter sweetness with an amazing soundtrack by Hans Zimmer. Also I’m a horse girl, kinda self explanatory.

Age: 21

School, uni, occupation, other: I am studying Captive animal studies at a local Zoo in my area. Animals have been my passion since I popped out of the womb. Considering going into equine or canine training as well in the future.

Do you prefer heat or cold: The cold. I’m always fucking hot here, so anytime I feel cold is a blessing 🥴

Name a fact others might not know about you: :0 I adore sharks and fish in general. I’m completely and utterly fascinated with them, watch documentaries and read articles and keep up to date with all the fish gossip, but am Petrified of the ocean. So god really went fuck you with that one.

Are you shy: Yeah.

Preferred pronouns: She/Her.

Pet Peeves: Loud chewing or loud talking or loud anything. I have misophonia unfortunately.

Life right now: I am sitting in the boot of my car watching my horse eating and being an overall menace. Really quite content and happy even though I have a major work due in 2 weeks I just started yesterday.

Main blog: @patch-and-stringer , have had her since 2011 🥴

Side Blog/s: This one for F1, @incorrectliverpoolfc for football and also @t-alexanderarnold for Trent aha.

What you need to know before becoming my friend: I talk A Lot about football, f1, horses, sharks, my dog, my friends, football again- like, be prepared for a Lot of gushing. I fall in love as quickly as I fall out of it. I need my time alone, and do not have the emotional capacity anymore for being a support person but will listen to any of your venting or sadness with open arms. One day I want to open an animal rescue for livestock and horses.

Anyway there’s little old boring me. I don’t really have any f1 friends yet so I’ll just leave it here. If you want to do it feel free to tag me!!

[eldritchsurveys]

1090.

Can you say you are fully happy right now? >> Some surveys have such standard and generic questions that I can’t rightly tell if I’ve already taken it. This is one of those, and because it’s so long I’m hoping to god I don’t get to the middle of it and be like “oh. I did this literally last week” lmao. Fingers crossed. I don’t know what “fully happy” means. I took my walk like I promised myself, and I made an offering and am now drinking it (it’s delicious, a dessert stout called Big Luscious), so I’m on track for how I wanted my day to go. And I’m not triggered or having any kind of episode, so I’m okay there. Which means I am currently stable, which is a great place to be (considering the alternatives).

Do you think someone is thinking about you right now? >> It’s possible, I guess.

Is there someone who stopped talking to you for no reason? >> I mean, probably, at some point. Ghosting is a common thing these days, for some reason.

Did you ever get called horrible names like (whore, skank, bitch)? >> Sure.

Where did you sleep last night? >> In my bed.

Ever slow danced with anyone? >> Yes, outworld and Inworld. Inworld is obviously the best, though. ~

Ever cried in public? >> Yes. Privacy and solitude was a rarity and a luxury for most of my life, so I had no real choice.

Ever feel safe in someone’s arms? >> Inworld, yes. I don’t know what that’s like outworld.

What would you do if you were pregnant? >> Die.

Are you afraid of letting anyone in? >> So, I have disordered attachment, am a product of CEN and CSA, and have resultant CPTSD. You do the math. (*makes some kind of joke about how it’s probably gonna be algebra because of all the acronyms--*)

Do you like cuddling? >> I love it Inworld. It basically gets me through everything. I would basically remain glued to Can Calah at all times if I could (and on some bad days, I do). Outworld is a completely different story because of the things mentioned just above.

Ever cry in school? >> I’m sure I have.

Who is the last person to send you a message on facebook? >> Probably Casey, like a month and a half ago.

Do you look decent when you wake up? >> Why am I paying attention to how I look when I wake up? I’m in bed. Who the fuck am I performing for? -___-’

Have you ever been given roses? >> No.

Had a long distance relationship? >> Yes.

Does it bother you when people never answer their cell phones? >> Why would that bother me? I am also one of those people. Oh, I guess you mean, like... I call a person, they never answer... hah, as if I would ever call a person. This is totally outside my experience.

Do you care what happens in politics/your government? >> I mean... here’s the thing. I care in the sense that I’m not totally disconnected from the effects of politics on people like me. But the realm of politics, specifically, is so alien to me that I have no idea what to do about it except halfheartedly vote and hope for the best? I don’t know how much more I’m supposed to care. I hate the political system, period, I want nothing to do with it. People assume that anyone that feels that way must be privileged and unaffected by politics, but I guess their shortsightedness about how different people can experience and feel about things is not my problem.

Ever been called babe/baby? >> Sparrow says “babe”.

Have you ever witnessed someone else engaging in a sexual act (not necessarily sex)? >> Yes.

Where did you get drunk last? >> I don’t remember. I don’t get drunk anymore, I just like to drink a beverage and enjoy the taste and slight buzz. Like right now, it’ll probably take me the next hour or two to finish this stout, but that’s the way I like to drink. Slowly and comfortably.

What’s your relationship with the last person you texted? >> I’m married to her.

If someone went through your pictures, would they find a dirty one? >> Nope. The only time I ever took nudes was just for the fun of it, not to be sexual or anything. Just enjoying having a human body (god, I wish that were me now...). But that was a long time ago and none of those photos are available anywhere anymore.

Do you want to see anyone right now? >> No.

Have you ever fell asleep in someone’s arms? >> Inworld, yes. Outworld, no.

How long does it take for you to fall asleep at night? >> About a half-hour after laying down, usually. Some nights a little longer, but then I just catch up on my reading.

How many pillows are on your bed >> Two.

When’s the last time you cried? >> Yesterday.

Is it cute when a guy buys you flowers? >> I mean, I’d require more context than that. If I’m friends with a guy and he’s like “I saw these flowers and thought of you!” that’d be adorable. I do love flowers, thanks for thinking of me! Also, I’ll probably use them as an offering, so double win. If some random guy sent me flowers, I’d be a bit disturbed and put-off.

Will things change in the next month? >> I mean, yes. That’s how it works.

How did you do on the last test you took? >> ---

Have you ever wanted to tell someone something but didn’t? >> I mean, yeah. Are you afraid to grow up? >> ---

Are you busy tomorrow? >> Probably not, unless something really unpredictable and abnormal happens. I might be plenty busy playing FFXIV, though, considering I can’t today because it’s patch day.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing? >> It’s an undershirt, idk how long I’ve had it.

Do you give out second chances way too easily? >> Er, I assume not? I’m not usually in this kind of situation.

Has anyone told you that you’re amazing? >> Yes.

How many black shirts do you own? >> Like 15. For reference, I own like 20 shirts total.

Do you think you will be in a relationship three months from now? >> I don’t see why I wouldn’t be. A lot of weird and sudden shit would have to happen to change that.

How come you’re not going out with the person you like? >> ---

When you feel cold does eating warm food help you feel warm? >> I don’t know. I do feel warmer after eating, just in general, probably because of the blood moving around to start digestion.

Do you want to diet? >> No. No I fucking do not. Don’t even suggest that to me.

Are you unsure about your feelings for someone? >> I’m not unsure about my feelings for anyone. I know how I feel about people. It’s other people whose feelings are a complete mystery to me.

Who did you last hang out with? >> Sparrow, because we live together.

Would you take $40,000 or a brand new car? >> I mean, obviously the money, since I can’t drive and don’t want to...

What song are you currently listening to? >> None.

Are you happy with your relationship? >> It’s fine.

Who was the last person to smoke something other than a cigarette or weed in front of you? >> Other than a cigarette or weed?? So, like... crack???? I really couldn’t say. It’d be years ago.

Does anything on your body hurt? >> Not right now.

If the last person you kissed were calling you right now, would you answer? >> I would, because if she’s calling me, then it must be a real ass emergency. Or probably like an EMT using her phone to find an emergency contact. So yeah, I’d answer. One of the very rare times I’d answer my phone.

In the run of a week, how many times do you straighten your hair? >> ---

Are you mad at someone right now? >> Nope.

Last thing someone gave you? >> I don’t remember.

Who woke you up this morning? >> Just me, naturally.

Who is your favorite family member on your mom’s side? >> ---

What do you do in your spare time? >> All my time is "spare” time, by other people’s standards, so, uh...

Who was the last person you were under a blanket with? >> Just Can Calah. :B

Where is the last person you kissed? >> Inworld.

What was the last thing you ate? >> Veggie burger and chips, breakfast. I’ll probably grab some lunch and queue up a movie after this.

Which of your friends is the most likely to get pregnant right now? >> ---

Do you remember the meanest thing the last person you kissed ever said to you? >> I don’t think she’s said anything particularly vicious to me. Just... kind of thoughtless things, I guess, earlier on.

What does your last outgoing text say? >> It was a link to a TikTok of a cute dog.

Have you ever been called prince/ princess? >> No.

Waiting for something? >> No. Well, the Dinnerly box, which is gonna get here eventually and which I’ll have to go downstairs to retrieve and then unpack.

Have you kissed anyone when you’re single? >> Yes.

What are you doing this weekend? >> I imagine the same things we do every other weekend in these COVID times.

Could you go the rest of your life without smoking a cigarette? >> I imagine so.

Have you ever kissed someone who was in a relationship? >> Yeah. Where is your biological father right now? >> ---

Where is the biggest scar on your body? >> Probably the one on my face. How late did you stay up last night? >> Not very. I think I went to sleep shortly after 11. Have you had your birthday this year yet? >> Yeah, in May. You had to kiss the last person you texted, would you? >> I mean, I have. What would you call your body type? >> I don’t want to call it anything. Are you a morning person? >> Yes. Have you ever been to Target? >> Yes, many times. Do you like iced coffee? >> It’s okay. When is the next time you’ll be at work? >> --- Has anyone ever hacked your accounts before? >> Not that I can recall. Could you ever be friends with someone that broke your heart? >> Probably not. I take that kind of shit super fucking hard. Ever made a prank phone call? >> No. Does your mom vacuum early in the morning, when you’re sleeping? >> --- Have you ever been in a car accident? >> No.

Have you ever been in a fist fight with someone? >> Yes.

Have you ever seriously hurt anyone by mistake? >> Physically? I assume not. Have you ever had stitches? >> Yes. Name a time when you had to be strong. >> Like... all the time? I don’t really know how to answer this. Have you ever dealt with a divorce or parents fighting or any kind of abuse at home? >> The first two, no, because my parents were not together. The third, yes. Have you ever lost someone close to death? if so, how many? >> Once. Have you ever had any volunteer jobs? >> No. Have you gone through a lot emotionally growing up? >> Obviously. Has a boy/girl ever cheated on their boyfriend/girlfriend for you? >> I really would not want anyone to do that. Anyone that can disrespect the rules of their current relationship so flagrantly is going to disrespect me next. Also, that’s a messed up thing to do to the third party, too. Do you want to see someone this very minute? >> Not especially. Unless it’s D. :)

Are you happy with the way things are going? >> Some things, sure. Are you a forgiving person? >> Sometimes, I guess. It’s not what I’d call a character trait of mine, though. Do you have to check in with your parents before you go someplace? >> --- Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to? >> --- Describe how you feel about your life in the past month using one word: >> I cannot do that. Would you like to go back and change any part of your life? >> I mean, I don’t know. I am who I am, and that’s because of what I’ve experienced. I don’t know who I’d be otherwise, and I do like myself and I want to continue being myself, so... I have to take the bitter with the... less bitter. When will your next kiss be? >> I don’t know, whenever I want it to be. Last person you saw other than your family? >> --- Will tomorrow be better than today? >> I mean, today was pretty okay, so if tomorrow’s even better than today, boy howdy. Are you feeling guilty about anything right now? >> No. What’s going through your mind right now? >> I’m just taking this survey, dude. That’s all I’m thinking about. When’s the last time you had fast food? >> Day before Thanksgiving. Do you believe that there’s good in everybody? >> I mean, I guess, if we have to put it that way. I just think that people are largely alike, and that if I can see the “shadow self” in me and everyone that is capable of many of the evils of the world, then I don’t see why I can’t also see the “higher self” in me and everyone that is capable of the beautiful things that people do for and with each other. These divisions always make me twitch a little because I think making it a dichotomy misses the real point a bit, but I haven’t run into better words for this yet so I’m doing my best with what I’ve got. Is it okay if you kiss people when you’re single? >> ... When was the last time you saw someone attractive? >> I mean, I can see Can Calah or King Crimson whenever I want. :B What was the first thing you did when you woke up? >> Probably reached for my phone to see what time it was. Think back eight months ago, were you single? >> No. What do you carry with you at all times? >> Myself :) Are you okay with the life you live? >> I’m okay with a lot of it. Way more okay with the lives I’ve had to lead before.

Do you have a Tattoo? >> Yes. What other piercings would you get other than the ones you already have? >> I’m not sure. I haven’t really thought about it because I’ve been so focused on tattoos in recent times. I’d just rather have ink. Did your last kiss take place on a bed? >> Probably. Have you ever been to Disney World? >> No. If so, how many times have you been? >> --- Does grammar and capitalization mean anything to you? >> Meh. Like, here’s the thing -- even if I don’t capitalise proper nouns or use dialect grammar as opposed to “proper” (don’t get me started on the connotations of that term) grammar, I can still be understood. And that’s the whole fucking point. I use the social standard for grammar and capitalisation when it’s necessary, and for some reason I’ve been taking surveys with the social standard of English for so long that it’s a habit by now, but I’m not obsessed with it. I love being able to code-switch and I love using vernacular and I love “Internet dialect/grammar” and all of that. Language in all its forms, unrestrained, is just so. fucking. cool. Are you good at wrapping gifts for others? >> Sure, I like the orderly origami-like process of wrapping. Do you have a dirty clothes hamper in your room? >> No, it’s in Sparrow’s (bigger) room. Do you enjoy big holiday dinners? >> I enjoy big dinners and small dinners. I assume by “big” you mean “lots of food”, not... “big” as in “lots of people”, because that I do not enjoy. Is your vision good? >> Yes. Is your present hair color, natural? >> Yes. What was the last thing you ordered online? >> A crystal. Fuck, that reminds me, I gotta poke around on Etsy for some stocking stuffer type gifts.   Have you ever worn color contacts? >> Yes, quite often back in the day. If you have a significant other, how long have you been together? >> Almost nine years or something, idk. I’m bad at time math. Where are your parents as of now? >> --- Do you follow a certain religion? >> No. Do you have any family members who live out of town? >> --- Do you consider yourself short? >> Not really. What room are you in? >> Mine. Do you listen to any country music? >> Sure. Do you ever watch Lifetime? >> No. I don’t have cable, but I wouldn’t watch Lifetime even if I did. Would ever consider having children in the future? >> Probably not. Have you ever lived on a farm? >> No. Do both of your parents have jobs? >> --- If you had the chance to move to a completely different state, would you? >> Yes. What is something you’ve always wanted a boy to do for you? >> Clean my house. IDK, lol. What do you wish you had more knowledge about? >> Oh, stuff. What food are you craving right now? >> I’m not craving anything, even though it’s lunchtime. I have no idea what I want to eat. ...Hmm, egg, rice, and roasted veggies sounds really good but idk if I want to make eggs right now... How old were you when you stopped believing in Santa? >> I never was told about him. I kind of vaguely knew he existed from just... cultural saturation, or whatever, but yeah. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed? >> A lot. Do you have a friend you can tell stuff to and you’re sure they won’t tell? >> --- Would you ever get someone’s name tattooed on you? >> You know, every time I see this question I totally fucking forget that I already have a person’s name tattooed on me. My X-Files tattoo that matches with Sparrow’s says “scully, it’s me”. Scully is a name lmaoooo So, yeah, I guess the answer is yes.

Does your family have family picnics? >> --- If your doctor said you were pregnant, what would you say? >> “That’s not a funny joke, so please stop”, I mean, what else would I say? That’s literally impossible so the doctor must be trying to pull a funny. A really fucking bad one, too.

[basaltbutch]

SPAW Day 2 - 3/6/2020

(Also yes I did write these in the same day because I accidentally fell asleep last night before I could write yesterday’s so I did it today instead)

Today was early day at my school, which meant that I had an extra hour all to myself! Had to go shopping first, but that meant that I got to grab some apples to try and make sparkling apple cider with, and heavy whipping cream so I can make potato soup & custard-filled sweet buns. (It was Costco, and everyone was going absolutely apeshit in the store. There were so many people. Toilet paper, paper towels, and bottled water were all sold out. I saw three different people with six bags of fucking dog food in their carts. People really acting like it’s the End of Days when this is just. Flu^2)

I got an extra forty minutes to do whatever I wanted, so I started setting up the fences. Didn’t have as much chicken wire as I thought I did, so I only got one segment done, but hopefully it means that my potatoes and onions will be somewhat protected from my dogs’ careless paws.

(A little fun fact for y’all; the rabbit statue was given to me by a very dear friend for my 18th birthday, and his name is Señor Gordo)

I also repainted an old drawer to use as a planting box for the interior of my greenhouse. Another fun fact for y’all; if you’re using a wood container to plant your stuff in, or if it’ll be outside at all, you have to paint it using exterior paint. Otherwise it’ll start to rot really easily. I could probably get away with not painting it, since I live in the chaparral, but we still get rain and I’ll be watering the plants so. Best not to risk it.

I hung out with my old man dog while I waited for the paint to dry :) He’s a really good boy, he’ll be turning fifteen this year! He’s doing pretty good for being so old.

Added two more booklets (or whatever it’s called, I’m forgetting the actual term) to the WIP grimoire today, bringing the total number of pages to 120, or 60 sheets. I’ve also started playing around with a possible writing idea that’s solarpunk themed. I don’t know exactly where it’ll take me, but I’ve started doodling scenes and we’ll see if it takes us anywhere! (My writing/outline style is sort of unique? I let the characters explain to me who they are, and what the setting is, and what they’re doing, usually through small scenes and snippets where I just write whatever comes to mind. Then, when it starts to take shape, I start outlining, then I start actually writing.)

To finish the day off, I made three new patches to add to my jean jacket. The fabric for them came out of my scrap fabric bag, and I used paints that someone had just left in our house when we moved in. The circular one has the solarpunk flag painted on it, and says in black lettering, “Hope is Punk.” The other one has “Your fear of looking stupid is holding you back,” and the last one has the trans flag painted on it, and says, “Trans rights are human rights.” I’ll post pictures sometime this week. (Don’t feel like doing it now lol)

[thetiredbiwrites]

The Gorgeous Stranger

Bucky x Reader

Warnings: none??

Summary: Reader doesn’t celebrate her birthday so Bucky finds a way without her knowing (I need to work on my summaries 😬)

A/N: As it was my birthday yesterday I decided to write some birthday related fics :)

Words 2104 (sorry, I lost control and rambled, I do that a lot, it’s a problem)

Natasha, Sam, Steve and Bucky sat around the kitchen table, Natasha and Sam nursing their hangovers. The celebrations for Natasha’s birthday got a little out of hand the night before.

Well, if ‘a little’ includes Tony and Natasha’s drinking competition (obviously Natasha won, but she fell over when she tried to walk, and Tony fell off his chair).

Clint intensely singing along to Dancing Queen before passing out on a table (he’s still there).

Sam trying to prove he was not drunk by flying around the room but just crashed into a wall instead (‘I meant to do that! I’m not drunk, Barnes, don’t laugh at me!’).

You’d have thought Responsible Steve would at least try to minimise the damage, instead he just sat at the bar laughing at and filming everyone.

Sam groaned as his dropped his head on the table, “I’m never drinking again.”

“Until the next birthday”, Steve scoffed. Sam said the same thing after every birthday party and when the next one came along; he never failed to make the same mistakes.

“Who is next?”

“It’s Tony, right?” Steve directed to Natasha as she finished her third cup of coffee.

“Actually, it’s Y/N but she doesn’t like to celebrate her birthday. Tony will go all out though, you’re fucked Wilson.”

Sam groaned again, head still glued to the cold surface of the table, as Natasha laughed at him.

“Wait, why doesn’t Y/N like her birthday?” Bucky spoke up; brows furrowed.

-

Bucky had moved into the compound ten months ago, finally giving in to Steve’s constant begging. God, he could be persistently annoying. Steve had proudly introduced his best friend to everyone as soon as he arrived. Everyone except Y/N who had been out on a mission at the time and Steve forgot to mention this to Bucky.

He found himself heading to the kitchen that night, about 2 in the morning. Everything was too new and somehow too comfortable that he couldn’t sleep. It took him a second to process that there was someone else already in the kitchen.

Stopping in the doorway, he finally noticed the lights on, the quiet hum of the coffee machine and angry mumblings of the stranger as they searched the cupboards, back to him.

“Oh, my God” the stranger yelped as she turned, noticing Bucky in the doorway.

Bucky found himself frozen. He still wasn’t too comfortable around other people and didn’t know what to do in this situation. The stranger waved a hand, the other on her chest to steady her shocked heart as she let out a chuckle.

“I am, so sorry. I’m usually a lot tougher than that. I just got back from a mission and expected everyone to be in bed. You must be Bucky, right? Steve’s friend.”

The stranger stepped round the kitchen counter towards him and Bucky was speechless. The stranger was gorgeous, her dazzling smile, immediate ease and kindness towards him left him stunned.

“Um. Yes. Yeah, yes. I’m Bucky. Hi.” He mentally slapped himself for sounding so ridiculous.

The gorgeous stranger let out a short laugh, “you do speak! Thought you might be a statue for a second there. It’s good to meet you Bucky, hope you like it here.”

Bucky followed the stranger as she headed back to the counter where he noticed the first aid kit and bloodied paper towels spread across the surface, finally knocking him back into his senses. Looking back up at the gorgeous stranger’s face he noticed the cut on the left side of her forehead, starting at her hairline and ending just above her eyebrow. Lowering his gaze, he also noticed the blood on her grey tank top.

“Are you ok?”

“Oh, yeah. Comes with the job.” She dismissed him, sending him a bright smile before focusing her attention back on the jagged cut across her right side, above her hip and moving round her side towards her back. It looked fierce.

Bucky found himself next to her the second she let out a hiss as she applied the alcohol-soaked pad on the cut.

“That looks bad, are you sure you don’t need a doctor or something?”

The gorgeous stranger looked up at Bucky’s concerned face with an amused smile, “trust me, sweetie, I’ve had worse. I can deal with this myself.”

Bucky’s heart jumped at the name. He hadn’t felt anything like this in decades and he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Maybe I can help then?”

With a smile and a nod, she passed the pad to Bucky and let him patch her up as she made them a cup of coffee each.

“I know coffee isn’t really a bedtime drink, but it works for me” she had explained.

An hour later and the gorgeous stranger announced she was ready for bed, pouting about the stack of reports she would have to fill out when she woke. She bid him goodnight and left the kitchen.

Just as Bucky realised that he’d forgotten to ask her name she appeared round the side of the doorframe, “my name’s Y/N, by the way.”

Ten months later and they had become incredibly close, nearly as close as him and Steve. But he had yet to admit his feelings.

-

“You know what, I don’t know actually. She’s just always been very clear that she does not celebrate her birthday, and everyone should just ignore it.”

“Yeah, she threatened to ‘punch me in the head’ if I finished saying ‘happy birthday’ a couple years ago. She’s scary.” Sam admitted.

Bucky became determined to celebrate Y/N’s birthday because to him, she deserved a whole day dedicated to her. Actually, he thought she deserved a whole month. To him, she is the most gorgeous, intelligent, badass, kindest, funniest person in the universe.Of course, she was also terrifying if she wanted to be, even to a super solider. This meant he had to be smart about his plans, not let her know what he was doing was for her birthday. Just the two of them. Maybe he’ll actually confess his feelings in the process.

Birthday

“Hey, Doll. Get up, I made plans.”

Bucky yanked the curtains open, letting the early morning sunlight cover Y/N as she groaned and buried her head in her pillow.

This was a risky move, Y/N was not a morning person and if she didn’t have to be up before 10, she wouldn’t be. It was currently 8.35am.

“Come on, get out of bed, grumpy.”

Bucky received a pillow to the face, but it didn’t wipe the excited grin off.

“Why? What are you up to?”

Bucky couldn’t help but admire Y/N, in her Stitch PJs, hair everywhere and glowing in the morning sun.

“We’ve got the day off, so I made plans to go out. Steve’s always telling me I should go out and who better to go with me?”

“I’m flattered,” Y/N sarcastically replied, glancing at her bed side clock and loudly groaning.“Why the hell do these plans have to start at half eight in the morning?!”

Bucky laughed and headed for the door, “you have half an hour, get ready!”

The first stop was the aquarium. Bucky had remembered her talking about the new aquarium when it first opened a few months back, but because of their busy schedules they never had the time. She had talked about different fish for the next hour. Which included a 20-minute rant on why sharks should be loved and are like sea puppies. Photos and videos included.

Of course, Bucky missed most of the fish, spending more time looking at Y/N. The way she lit up at the different types, the way the lights through the water made her look like an angel and the smile that never left her face.

The way she grabbed his hand in excitement and dragged him towards the big tank that extended above them into the ceiling and was filled with various sharks, made his heart swell. She practically skipped over with the biggest smile on her face. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she reeled off fact after fact about the different sharks and fish in the tank.He bought her shark plush in the gift shop before leaving- as a souvenir, definitely not a birthday present. Although he doubted she would notice, she didn’t even seem to know it was her birthday.

Next up was lunch at her favourite diner. They did the best hot chocolates and cupcakes in her opinion. There was a brief disagreement when it came to pay. Bucky had decided he was paying for everything, it is her birthday, but he couldn’t let her know.

“Just let me pay!”

“No. I’m paying.”

“But you payed the entry to the aquarium.”

“So?”

“And for this little guy!” She counteracted, holding up the shark plushie as Bucky shrugged.

“Why won’t you just let me pay for lunch?!”

“Because…I’m a gentleman. It’s what we did in the forties.”

He handed the money over and pulled her out the diner before she could object again, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“You know it’s not the forties anymore, right?”

“I know, I just like treating my favourite girl.”

The cinema was the next stop. Y/N had been dying to see a movie that came out the previous week. Again, there was a brief discussion on who should pay. Y/N lost. Again. Bucky paid for tickets, popcorn, drinks and sweets.

The sun was beginning to set when they left and started walking back to the compound, briefly stopping at a Chinese take-out. Bucky didn’t have to fight to pay this time, Y/N too busy in her one-sided discussion about the movie to realise.

Bucky was more of a listener than a talker, which worked in their relationship because if you got Y/N talking about something she was passionate about, she could talk for hours, and Bucky was always happy to listen.

The moon was high and the compound quiet by the time to two had finished their take-out in the garden. Tony had set up some areas around the compound for people to relax. The garden was Y/N and Bucky’s favourite.

Y/N stopped just outside the door, her eyebrows furrowed, biting her bottom lip and head tilted slightly to the side as she looked at Bucky, as if she was studying him. Noticing she wasn’t next to him anymore, Bucky turned to see Y/N and the puzzled look on her face.

“Doll? What’s wrong?”

“Why did you do all this?”

“I just…felt like it?”

“For an assassin you’re a pretty bad liar, Barnes.”

Bucky let out a sigh, closing his eyes as he dropped his head. He had to tell her the truth. Taking in a deep breath, preparing himself, and opened his mouth.

“I know it’s your birthday and Natasha told me you didn’t like to celebrate it. But you’re the most amazing person. You’re gorgeous, funny, smart, and you deserve to have at least one day to be celebrated. You’re also a badass and completely terrifying so I couldn’t tell you it was for your birthday because you’d probably hit me and refuse to come.”

He took a step toward her, placing his real hand on the side of her face he gently pulled her towards him, placing a short and gentle kiss to her lips before turning and racing into the compound.

Y/N stood stuck to her spot, frozen in shock. Blinking rapidly, she closed her mouth and looked around. A million thoughts raced through her head.

What the hell just happened?

Did he just kiss me?

Did James Buchanan Barnes just kiss me?

Then run away?

Wait, what is this?

She had been so taken away by Bucky’s words and his lips on hers that she hadn’t notice the little black box he had put in her hand. Placing her shark plushie (who she named James, Bucky had acted offended but was actually honoured) under her arm, she opened the little box and gasped.

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked down at the small heart necklace resting inside. She had seen it in a shop window the month before. Y/N and Bucky had been sent on a coffee run for the team when the silver pendant caught her eye. She had told Bucky that her mother had one just like it when she was younger. She was devastated when she couldn’t find it after her death.

Y/N looked back up to where Bucky had disappeared to, a small smile settled on her lips. Maybe she could come to love her birthday.

[the-fangirl-way]

6: Snow

When my alarm clock sounded the next morning, a low grumble made its way up my throat. It was Monday, and worse, Harry was downstairs asleep on my couch.

I forced myself to get out of bed, if I had it my way I would have stayed there all day under the warm blankets pretending that none of this ever happened and that I was back to my normal life before Harry Styles entered it and caused havoc.

The hardwood was cold as ice beneath my feet, the entire apartment always stayed cooler than necessary even with the heat on. I prompted for a quick ten minute shower to warm me and waken me for the hellish day I knew was to come; although it wouldn't be until I got my first caffeine fix of the morning would I truly feel alive.

I quickly got dressed dismissing the idea of looking decent today, it was Monday after all, pulling my hair up into a tight bun on my head and pinching my pale lifeless cheeks to give myself some color, England really was turning me into a ghost with the constant overcast.

I stepped out into the hallway and instantaneously my nostrils filled with the delightful scent of coffee beans, which meant two things, there was fresh brewed coffee, and Harry was awake downstairs.

I retreated slowly down the stairs, with any luck he was already gone and had just made himself a cup before leaving. I noticed the blanket he had used the previous night before was folded neatly and the pillow placed on top on the coffee table, he had at least taken the liberty of cleaning after himself.

I entered the kitchen and unfortunately found him leaning against the countertop gripping a mug in his hand looking pensively at the ground, his face changing when he noticed me coming through the doorway.

"Avery, good morning, you look-"

"Thrown together, I know, it's Monday."

"I was going to say lovely, actually, although I do prefer your hair down if I'm being honest."

I felt a small blush creep on my cheeks but dismissed it as I brushed past him to grab a thermos out of the cabinet, one cup wasn't going to do today.

"So Harry about last night-" I started, pouring coffee into the thermos.

"Save it," he said and I turned to look at him. "It was nothing, I know, you were exhausted, no doubt still high on adrenaline from everything that happened; really no big deal."

Taken back from his cool demeanor and politeness I just nodded, happy that things weren't awkward.

"How's the uh, stitches?" I asked stirring in the cream and sugar.

"Fine, a little sore but nothing I can't bounce back from." Harry said taking his last swig of coffee before washing the cup out and sitting it in the sink.

"Thank you, by the way." He said running a hand through his tousled hair.

"For?"

"For letting me stay here last night, I know Devlin wasn't keen on it."

"Devlin is just, indifferent."

"She shot me a glare this morning before she left." He said chuckling and I frowned.

"She's normally very hospitable."

"Hey, for her to let me sleep under the same roof for the night was plenty hospitality for me."

"So, where are you going to go?" I asked taking the first sip of my coffee, the steamy liquid arousing a little bit of life within me.

"Not entirely sure yet, I figured I'd walk around for awhile until I figured it out."

There it was again, the pang of guilt that I should not be feeling for Harry but yet, there it was. He was being so nice this morning, a huge shift from his normal cocky attitude, I guess that was another reason I blurted out my next sentence.

"I'll give you a ride. I mean, is there somewhere I can drop you off at? I really would hate for you to have to walk in this freezing cold."

Harry shrugged and ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit I suspected.

"I guess you could maybe drop me at my fathers, as much as I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see me, there's a few things I need to discuss with him."

"Right okay, no problem where does he live?"

"In West Worth Manor, the gated community."

West Worth Manor, that was a big rich community, then again his father had to be wealthy with him being able to bond Harry out.

"Sure, not a problem." I said taking another sip of my coffee, heading towards the door.

"Just let me grab my things and we can go."

Harry followed me into the living room where I gathered my laptop, purse and jacket, checking my phone I still had an hour before I had to be at work, I liked to get there early and beat morning traffic.

I grabbed my keys off the hook beside the door allowing Harry to step out into the hallway before myself, locking the door behind me.

It was cold in the hallway, colder than usual. We boarded the elevator in silence.

When we got down to the lobby I noticed Harry smirking and I turned to see what he was looking at.

Fat white snowflakes were falling rapidly from the sky, and there was already a thick white blanket covering everything as far as the eye could see.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." I said scrunching up my nose.

"What? It's just a little snow." Harry offered and I grumbled.

"I'm wearing heels, I'll break my neck!"

"Well why don't you go change?" He suggested and I shook my head.

"No, I don't have time, let's just go." I said and he nodded following me to the door.

Outside wind whipped around while the snowflakes peppered down fast and heavy, my nose burned with the familiar tingling sensation, it did this every time it snowed.

"Right so where are you parked?" Harry asked and I sighed.

"Normally I park in the car deck but it was full when I came home yesterday so I had to park...there." I said gesturing to my car, all the way across the parking lot, which at the moment was a frozen tundra of ice, a death trap waiting to happen.

"I can pull it around if you'd like?" Harry offered and I shook my head.

"No, no, I can do it." I insisted and he shrugged.

I hitched my bag up over my shoulder and started slowly but surely across the parking lot, if I didn't know any better I'd say I was ice skating all over again. The thin layer of ice hidden under the snow showed no mercy on me or my heels, and I almost ate the dust quite a few times, but; somehow successfully I had made it to my car.

"Okay, now I'll get in and-" I started to say when I lost my footing on a patch of particularly slicker ice.

"Avery!" I heard Harry's voice shout.

"Harry?" I said blinking up at him, the snow was falling rapidly against my face and it was bright, too bright, Harry's face looked concerned as he was peering down at me, his cheeks and nose rosy red from the chill biting at them, snow flakes peppering his hair, he looked adorable.

"Are you okay?" He asked and I nodded.

"I'm, I- ow!" I shouted suddenly, pain shooting up my elbow into my arm.

"I think, my arm-"

"You're laying on it weird, you landed on top of it, can you move it?" He asked and I very gingerly tugged at my arm beneath me and a whole new wave of pain skyrocketed through it.

"SHIT!" I yelled out and he raked a hand through his hair.

"I bet it's broken."

"Damn it, damn it, damn it."

"Here, we need to go to the hospital and get it looked at." Harry stated and I felt his arms under me again.

"I'm going to lift you, it's gonna hurt but I have to okay?" He asked and I sighed.

"Fine."

I felt him tug on my body and there was the shock of pain searing through my arm like white hot iron.

"Fuck!"

"Wow, someone's got a potty mouth." Harry joked and I shot him a glare.

"Sorry."

"Just hurry up." I whimpered and he opened the car door and with as much gentleness as he could, slid me into the passenger seat.

"Keys." He said holding out a hand and I reluctantly fished them out of my bag and handed them to him.

He stalked around to the other side and slid in smoothly, putting the key into the ignition my car roared to life.

"Nice car, what model is this?" He asked inquisitively.

"Harry." I grumbled.

"Right, sorry."

***

I broke my arm in two places, the doctor put me in a cast against my many attempts to talk him into just putting it into a brace, or a sling. He also took me out of work for a week to let it heal, all in all this Monday could have gone better.

"How do you feel?" Harry asked, the painkillers the doctor had prescribed me had started kicking in and at the moment I didn't feel any pain.

"Not bad, pretty good, kinda hungry."

He chuckled and turned on the radio, Crazy by Aerosmith was playing.

"Aerosmith huh? Classic rock fan?" He asked smirking and I nodded.

"Yeah, so? Problem?"

"No problem." He said shaking his head, it was at the end of the song and surprisingly enough he knew all the words.

The beginning chords of the next song made him turn and look at me.

"Wham? What kind of CD is this?" He asked as "Careless Whisper" began filling the car.

"A burnt CD, really old actually, Dev burnt this one for me on my eighteenth birthday, Eighteen And Life is on this one, and there's another one up there," I said gesturing to my CD case attached to my visor, "That has "Seventeen" By Winger on it, she kind of always made CD's for me for my birthday every year.

"Hmm, thoughtful, I like it. How long have you known Devlin?"

"Since we were kids. She lived down the street from me and we rode the bus together, we've always been inseparable, we've worked our entire lives around each other." I said and Harry nodded pursing his lips.

"Must be nice to have a friend like that."

"Yeah, have you never had a close friend?" I asked and he shrugged.

"Not really, I guess Doug would have been my best friend growing up.."

I felt a knot in my stomach.

"Aw Harry I'm sorry-"

"Don't, it's fine, it happens."

"It shouldn't happen though, no one should have to go that young."

"You're right." He agreed and then promptly began to sing along with the music to avoid any more sad conversation topics.

Surprisingly he had quite the singing voice, it took me by surprise but I pretended not to notice, afraid he might stop if I commented on it.

Soon enough we were pulling up at my apartment and Harry hopped out, coming over to my side where he opened the door and helped me out carefully.

"Here," he said looping my arm around his neck for support, "Don't want a repeat of that again."

I nodded and he helped me back across the parking lot, the snow still coming down in quarter sized flakes.

Once inside he shook the free snow from his hair and I took notice once again to his flushed complexion, matched with his wildly kept hair and bright colored eyes he was handsome without a doubt.

Get ahold of yourself Avery, you're gawking, it has to be the medicine.

We boarded the elevator and I leaned against the wall.

"I'm sorry your day didn't turn out quite like you'd have wanted it." Harry said and I shrugged.

"I'm honestly thankful you were there, if that had happened to me by myself, I'd of really been screwed."

He shrugged and I heard the ding of the elevator as we reached my floor, the doors opened up.

We stepped off and I immediately froze, there outside my apartment door, clad in his uniform stood Tristan.