#alone this time nearly hit someone’s car and now im sitting alone in the pouring rain waiting for customers. hurrah

[steelycunt]

experiencing the most depressing shift imaginable

[anythingandeverything1d]

Falling (part 2)

 Part 1: https://anythingandeverything1d.tumblr.com/post/615981743290400768/falling

You looked at your watch, the concert was in a few hours and you instantly ran upstairs to get ready, fighting back the logic your brain warned you about and following your heart. You tore your closet open looking for the perfect outfit, but for what occasion. For the first time in months you softly smiled and let yourself think about the possibility of Harry. The nights that you missed so much, his soft hair in your fingers, his dimples, the way he kissed you, the way he laughed and told horrible jokes, all of it. “Ughhh” you moaned leaning back against the wall. “What am I getting myself into?”

30 minutes later and you had thrown almost every article of clothing you owned onto your bedroom floor. You had decided on black skinny jeans, a white crop top, and your hair had been thrown into a half bun (one of Harry’s favorite looks on you) “ugh what have I actually become” you mumbled to yourself while putting on some hot pink lip gloss and grabbing your jacket off the door. You grabbed the envelope with the tickets and opened the door revealing your friend. She looked you up and down with a suspicious glance. 

“Where are you going?”

“Uhh nowhere...”

“Nowhere?”

“Yep, I better get going..” She grabbed your wrist and stopped you. “You're going nowhere looking like that? Really? You expect me to believe that...” You glanced at the envelope quickly and nodded trying to continue out the door. “Whats this?” She took the envelope from your hand and peered inside. “Oh my god. You are not. Theres no way you are going to Harry’s concert..”

“I need to. Okay. I need to know. I need closure.” You ranted on a quick explanation of seeing him at the gas station and the note on the back of the ticket and sighed. “You don't understand...I need to go. I need to move on.”

“Fine then we are going together. There’s no way Im letting you make a stupid rash decision when he bats those eyes and smiles at you. Nope. If you're doing this, we are doing it together.” And with that you smiled, grabbed her hand and pulled her to the car. 

Harry’s POV:

Harry was pacing the dressing room. His mind was moving a million miles a minute but yet everything was focused on one thing. You. He was sweating, so nervous about what the night would bring. He had specifically chosen the pink suit you had picked out for him so long ago. Paired with the black button down he wore on your first date. He picked the outfit specifically for you tonight and he hoped it would work. Of course he hadn’t ever stopped thinking of you, but seeing you at the gas station had sealed the deal. He needed you back in his life. Even as a friend. He knew he had screwed up. It had only been a few months without you but he was crumbling slowly. He was the one who fucked everything up. He hadn’t been present in the relationship for a while. He had dragged you along for the journey. He would leave and not call or text. And then there was Sarah. He never wanted to cheat but after drinking too much it had happened and of course you had been there to see it happen. Sarah was great and Harry had flirted for a while...but there wasn’t a spark. There wasn't anything that was there when you were in his life. He knew the moment you said goodbye that he had ruined the best thing in his life. He got lucky his show was in town tonight and even more lucky that you still lived in the same apartment complex. He left the tickets and passes but had no idea if you would even show up. He just prayed. “Please (y/n)...please come...I need you..” he mumbled with his head down.

“What?” Mitch asked walking in.

“Nothing.” Harry said looking up. 

“Well 20 minutes till showtime.” 

“Okay. Hey is there anyone backstage looking for me or anyone using a backstage pass left in my name?” Harry asked anxiously.

“No. Not that I know of anyone. Who are you expecting Styles..a girl?” He wiggled his eyebrows and laughed as Clare, Sarah, and Adam walked in.

“Oh what’s going on. What are we teasing Harry about now?” Clare asked.

“A girl.” Mitch answered. 

“Shut up guys.” Harry mumbled looking at Sarah. She had agreed friends was better and he was glad because he felt nothing but that. It was still a little awkward though. “Let’s just go. It’ll be great right? We can do this.”

Your POV:

You and your friend has pushed up to the front where the seats were and you were shaking you were so nervous. Of course everyone acknowledged you as you walked in so it took forever to find your seats but luckily the lights were dimming as you sat down. Smoke rolled off the stage and everyone cheered. You stood up slowly feeling a little light headed. You looked up and he was there. His head down. His pink suit. Hair pushed back in a wave and a small smile in the corner of his mouth. It was too much. You pushed back a few rows to where you were no longer visible and sat down collecting yourself. You just listened to the music. He was amazing. His album was amazing...of course you already knew that because you had listened the moment it was released. He really was a super star. You were proud too because he had waited for this moment for years. 

Towards the end of the concert Harry had begun searching the crowd with his eyes. Scanning row by row until he found you. His green eyes locked on yours. His mouth slight parted and his breathing was heavy from the last song. He curved his mouth up into a smile, his eyes never leaving yours. “There’s a song I’ve been working on. I decided tonight to play it. I hope you all enjoy, Ive worked hard on it.” He nodded to the band behind him and the music started.

“I’m in my bed. And you're not here. And there's no one to blame but the drink and my wandering hands. Forget what I said. Its not what I meant. And I can't take it back. I can't unpack the baggage you left.” His eyes never strayed from yours. You knew what was happening. There were a few songs on the album about you, but this was different. Your eyes clouded with tears and you couldn't breathe. “What am I now, What am I now, What if I’m someone I don't want around. I’m falling again, I’m falling again, I’m falling.” Harry broke eye contact and looked down. Pouring himself into the words of the songs. You sat on the floor and put your head between your legs trying to breathe. Your friend was rubbing your back. Harry got to the end of the song “What if I’m down? What if I’m out? What if I’m someone you won't talk about? Im falling again, Im falling again, I’m falling.” And with that he bowed and ran off stage. The crowd of people slowly began clearing and you were able to breathe a little better. 

“Want to go home now?” your friend asked still slightly concerned at how pale your face was. You shook your head and stood up, pulling the backstage pass out. You ran to the guard and showed him before following him back. It was only a minute before you saw the pink suit. It stood out in a crowd very easily.

“Harry Edward Styles!” you shout, tears already forming in your eyes. He turns quickly and looks at you slightly stunned, and you continue forward pointing a finger at him. “What the hell was that?” You asked. He looked unsure of what to say. Finally he looked at you and sighed.

“That was my new song. What else would it be?” He sarcastically replied.

You didn’t know what else to say. You just stared at him, your nostrils flaring and his eyes intently watching your every move. Your friend came forward and grabbed your hand. “Come on (y/n), you don't need this.” She gently pulled you towards the door. 

“No.” His hand went out and grabbed your other wrist. “We need to talk.” He looked you in the eyes. “Thats why you're here right? Why else would you come?” His tone was harsh and you had no idea why. You looked at him and then at your friend. Your head was spinning again and you felt like you needed to sit down. You reached for the floor and felt yourself falling . “(y/n)!” Harry’s voice now very concerned shouted. Your eyes fluttered close and you hit the floor. 

Harry’s POV:

Harry didn’t know why he was being mean. He felt angry that you came back just to attack the song he had written about her. That he had poured so much energy and emotion into. When you had looked at him, he saw a slight fear in your eyes. You were scared of him and he didn’t want that. He saw you reach for the floor and your eyes close. He knew this, you were fainting. It was something that had happened a few time in the past. Scared him to death very time. This was no exception. He tried to catch your head and cushion the fall. You had hit the floor and he had immediately pulled you onto his lap and rocked you slowly. “(y/n) wake up...youre okay. Just please open your eyes...” He touched his forehead to yours and breathed slowly.

“This is your fault Styles.” your friend remarked kneeling next to him. “You overwhelmed her. You shouldn’t have even given her tickets. You nearly killed her two months ago. You don't even deserve the chance to speak to her.”

“(y/n)...open your eyes. You’re okay.” Harry ignored your friends comments and hummed softly, his eyes closed and his head against yours. 

Your POV:

Your eyes slowly opened and you heard a low and soft humming. Your head was pounding and you were acutely aware of arms wrapped tightly around you. You looked up and saw anxious green eyes staring into yours. Harry let out a shaky deep breath and moved his head back. You awkwardly climbed out of his arms and attempted to stand. You wobbled a bit and he immediately grabbed on and steadied you. You looked at your friend who was watching Harry very closely. “(y/n) can we please talk...alone.” he mumbled looking at your friend. You nodded your head, earning a sigh of relief from him. You looked at your friend telling her it was okay and let Harry pull you into his dressing room. He sat you on the couch and stood in front of you, running his fingers through his hair. “I don't even know where to start...”

“How about at the part where you left these tickets on my porch..” you grumbled watching him.

“I needed you here. I couldn’t get you out of my head after the gas station. It’s been so long...theres so much I’ve wanted to tell you but I couldn't because you blocked my calls.”

“Yeah because you cheated on me Harry. After 5 years?! You broke everything we had built together. All for some random girl?” You were annoyed but when you looked at him tears were falling down his cheeks and that made you sad. You didn’t want him to be upset. He had taken the jacket off and thrown it on a chair in the corner.

“I know....I know I ruined everything. It wasn't supposed to happen, it was a dumb mistake and I will forever regret it. The minute I saw you...I knew. I knew I had ruined the best thing in my life. There was never anything between me and her it was always just a drunk mistake. When you said goodbye I nearly lost it. I knew I would never love anyone but you. I haven't even looked a girl since that night. You're the only one I ever needed. I am so so so very sorry.I know I can’t take anything back but I need you. I can’t let you go, not again.” Your eyes were tearing up again and he reached up to wipe them away. His fingers rubbed my jaw and he leaned closer. You were suddenly very aware of him, his smell, everything. You leaned closer breathing faster and his lips cautiously met yours. You gave in. You fell against him and his hand pulled you unbearably close. He kissed you in a way that made you drown in him. He made the kiss deeper, adding more force and biting down on your lip. You moaned, opening your lips more allowing his tongue inside of your mouth. You sat up and ran your fingers through his hair, playing with the curls at the base of his neck while he trailed fingers up your back. If you died right now, you would be content. This moment was everything your body had been aching for the past two months. You grabbed the buttons on his shirt and went to pull it off. He pushed you back onto the cushions of the couch, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “Fuck I missed you (y/n).” He breathed into your ear before biting the soft skin on your neck. Yikes that was going to bruise for sure...

“I missed you too Harry” you managed before turning his head and bringing his lips back to yours. He kissed you like his life depended on it. Like there was nothing else he needed but you. You matched his energy. He had your shirt pulled almost over your head when there was a knock at the door and in walked a girl. She looked familiar..the hair... Harry looked up, his cheeks bright red. You sat up, pulling your shirt down and looking from her to Harry. 

“Sarah.” Harry managed while trying to catch his breath. “Is everything okay?” He looked anxious. 

You looked at her again and it hit you. “Sarah?” You looked at Harry again with pain in your eyes. 

“(y/n)....wait. It’s, It’s not what you think..” He grabbed your hand as you stood up. 

“She’s in your band?” You were crying again. Sarah was uncomfortable and moving towards the door. 

“Im going to go...I’ll catch you later Harry.” she left closing you back in the room with Harry. You turned toward him. 

“Really?” You said again looking at him.

“Like I said before, she was a mistake. I was drunk, she was drunk and that's all there is. There is absolutely nothing between us. I swear.” He stood up and walked towards you again. “(y/n), love, theres nothing between me and her. Its strictly work related.”

“Did you kiss her after we broke up? Did the two of you...” You asked staring at him. 

He looked down and shifted uncomfortably, giving you your answer. You wanted an answer though. “Harry. Did. You. Have. Sex. With. Her.”

“She kissed me...we...we just.... The next morning. But I swear I broke it off after that. I told her the truth. There was no feeling. There was nothing. You're all I could think of. I promise on my mums life there is nothing between us. There never will be.” Harry grabbed your hand and pulled you into his arms. He held you while you cried, rubbing your back. 

“I can't do this right now Harry. I really can’t. I...I need to go.” You pushed him away and walked to the door. Turning one last time you looked at him, his eyes shining with tears and you left. 

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

What do you guys think?? Part 3?? Let me know! xoxo

[cluttermind]

Without A Parachute (7/15) - Silver, Gold, and Secrets

Summary:  Emma worked tremendously hard to give herself a better chance. From group homes, to living in her car, to ivy league student, this English Major’s only solace was escaping her reality through books. One night, Emma comes home to find a small package with only her name on it written in beautiful calligraphy. The package contains a thick, brown leather journal. Emma soon learns that the fiction she writes in the journal eventually becomes reality. Will Emma learn to control this gift, or will she fall too fast into the temptation to change too much? With the help of her good friends August, Robin, and Elsa, and the mysterious, intriguing bartender of The Jolly Roger, Emma discovers just how easy it is to lose control, and how difficult it is to pick up the pieces.

Rating: M

Words: 31,139 total / 6,952 Ch 7

Read on ao3: Beginning | Current

A/N: Sorry again for the inconsistent posting schedule! I'm trying so hard to stay on track. Here's a LONG chapter with a whole lot happening to make up for it :) Enjoy some fluff, plot, and smut! 

Also the formatting is better on ao3 so I’d recommend reading there :)

//

I dreamt I saw you walking up a hillside in the snow

Casting shadows on the winter sky as you stood there counting crows

One for sorrow

Two for joy

Three for girls and four for boys

Five for silver

Six for gold and

Seven for a secret never to be told

- Counting Crows, Murder of One

Cold, Emma rolled over to snuggle closer to Killian. Instead she rolled flat onto her stomach. She blindly reached out, slapping the empty mattress next to her trying to find him. Groaning when she concluded he wasn’t next to her, Emma rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, checking the clock next to her. 9:30 am . Sighing, she dragged herself out of bed and made her way downstairs. Halfway down the stairs she spotted Killian in the kitchen. His phone was in his hand. His ear buds were in. And he was dancing . Like an idiot. In boxers and a t-shirt. His hair still messy from bed. God, he was awful. But fuck he was sexy.

He clearly didn’t notice her because he didn’t stop, only slowed a bit to fill the coffee maker with water. So Emma snuck up behind him and joined his ridiculous dancing. Eventually he turned around, saw her, and broke out into a fit of laughter.

“What’re we dancing to?” Emma yelled so he could hear her over his music. It was so loud she could hear it faintly from where she was in front of him. In response, Killian connected his phone to the bluetooth speaker on the counter and blasted Your Such A Mystery by Bleachers.

To anyone on the outside of their bubble they looked ridiculous. To Emma, it looked like what love should be. Or, at least, what she had always imagined it to be. Jumping around the kitchen at 9:30 in the morning in their pajamas, everything felt comfortable and wonderful. Maybe it was the endorphins talking but she felt like she was on cloud nine. And when Killian pulled her close to him to kiss her passionately, she believed that this must be the high people tried to chase with drugs. Who needs drugs when they have a Killian?

When the song ended, Killian pulled back. “Coffee, love?”

“That depends. It’s not the same crap you have at the pub, is it?” Emma teased. Killian lowered the music so they didn’t have to scream to have a conversation when they were standing in each other's personal space.

He chuckled. “I promise it’s not. It’s local and it’s sweet. You’ll like it.” Killian poured them each a mug of coffee. He was right, she did like it. There was a hit of chocolate that did, in fact, make the bitter drink a little sweeter. She hummed softly, enjoying the comfort of the warm mug in her hand as the coffee started to bring her back to reality.

“What is it?”

“Ithaca House Blend from Ithaca Coffee Company. It’s fair trade and organic.” He explained, taking a sip from his mug.

“Why don’t you serve this at the Jolly?”

“Because it’s not cheap and I spend money on alcohol. You and maybe 2 other people have ever ordered coffee there.”

“Maybe that’s because they know you serve shit coffee.”

Killian chuckled. “Maybe.” Emma hopped up to sit on the island while Killian leaned back against the counter across from her. They drank their coffee for a moment in comfortable silence, listening to the music coming softly through the speaker on the counter. “How are you this morning?” He asked, tentatively. Concern blanketed his words, silently asking whether he hurt her, whether she regretted it, whether she enjoyed it. He was familiar with the buzz that an orgasm left him in and the way it sometimes, or more recently the way it often, faded the following morning. That morning, however, he woke up happier than he had ever been. Killian, who was much more of a night owl than an early bird, nearly sprung out of bed dancing while he replayed every glorious moment of the previous night a little too graphically according to a certain part of him that was more awake than the rest of him. That��s how he ended up dancing alone in his kitchen. Partially because he was happy, partially because he needed to work off the stress that started to settle in his stomach when he remembered the countless nights he regretted the morning after and wondered if that was how Emma would feel.

Emma knew. She knew exactly what he was asking when he spoke. “Cold. I did wake up alone while someone was having a dance party without me.”

Killian chuckled, set his mug down and moved to wrap his arms around her. Emma’s legs wrapped around his waist and his arms around his neck. “Better?”

“Much,” she said, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck.

“I have to pick up a few things from my apartment today and I assume you need some things from yours. I thought we could get that out of the way this morning, binge some Netflix or break out the DVD collection,” Killian’s voice dropped, “maybe jump in the hottub later?”

Emma sighed, heat pooling in her belly. “That sounds wonderful.”

They finished their coffee and made their way upstairs to get dressed during which Killian spent more time staring at Emma than actually pulling his own clothing on and Emma spent more time staring at Killian than actually pulling on her clothes and if it wasn’t for that lingering, delicious, ache between her legs reminding her of the previous night’s activity there likely would’ve been a repeat.

“Later,” Emma purred as she walked past him and out of the bedroom carrying her bag with her. Like a puppy, he followed her, hanging on each syllable that fell from her mouth.

They hopped in Killian’s car and drove back to Collegetown. In the daylight, the view from their drive was wonderful. Half the way back Emma could see the lake. She let her mind drift as she stared off into the distance, Killian tuning the radio to the local college modern rock station - WICB 91.7 FM. Emma’s eyes drifted to sleep from the soft vibrations of the car. Unfortunately her nap, which was more like sleep part 2 considering she had only been up for about an hour, was quickly interrupted by Killian gently shaking her shoulder. He had parked right outside the Jolly Roger.

“Swan, wake up, love.” He placed a kiss to her temple as if he was bribing her to open her eyes.

“Five more minutes,” Emma grumbled.

“You can go right back to sleep when we get back to the house but right now I need you to pack.” Emma groaned, refusing to open her eyes. “Or else.” Killain smirked

“Or else what?”

“Or else I’ll withhold sex from you all week.” He toyed.

Emma opened her eyes for the sole purpose of glaring at him. If looks could kill, Killian surely would’ve been dead in that moment. Then she closed her eyes again. “Okay goodnight.”

Killian scoffed. “Fine. Then I won’t buy you breakfast.”

Emma’s ears perked up and she instantly opened her eyes. “CTB?”

“If I say yes will you please go pack?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.”

Emma jumped out of the car, slamming the door a little too hard in her excitement. Killian mentally noted that she was significantly more food motivated than sex motivated and went to his apartment to pack his own things.

In her bedroom Emma stared at the handful of clothes she owned. She grabbed a few pairs of jeans and leggings and a pair of sweatpants, her favorite Cornell sweatshirt and long sleeve (which together may as well have cost her an entire week's pay), a nicer sweater, and some long sleeves. Remembering that Killian mentioned a hot tub, she tossed in the simple black bikini that Elsa made her buy back in September when the weather was still nice enough to go gorge jumping. But when it came to lingerie, Emma was stuck.

Emma Swan: When you’re back we need to go shopping.

Elsa Agnarr: FINALLY!

Elsa Agnarr: where?

Emma Swan: That mall in Syracuse you always try to get me to take you to?

Elsa Agnarr: really?! i mean im not complaining ;) why the sudden desire to take a shopping trip?

Emma Swan: Oh nothing. I just need some new bras.

Elsa Agnarr: and you felt the need to text me a week in advance to plan a shopping trip for just some new bras…

Emma Swan: I slept with Killian.

Emma’s phone rang and Elsa started speaking the second she answered the FaceTime call. “You did what?”

“I told you.”

“Were you safe?!”

“Elsa!” They laughed. They were the cautious two of the group, nearly mothering over August and Robin whenever they could. Of course Emma was safe.

“Was it good?”

“Oh my god.” Emma blushed furiously.

“Oooooo I knew he’d be good in bed.”

“Elsa!”

“Oh come on! Even though we don’t play for the same team, anyone with eyes would bet that Killian Jones is good in bed.”

Emma sighed, an unfamiliar green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head in Emma’s mind. “Don’t remind me.”

“So are you guys together?”

“I don’t know.” Emma admitted. She wanted to be. To call Killian Jones hers? That’s a dream Emma hadn’t allowed herself to have. No matter what, Killian had been there for her. To lose that, to lose her friend if none of this worked out, might kill her. He deserved someone better, someone less damaged . And the familiar spiral began tightening in her mind.

“Don’t overthink this Em. You deserve to be happy and he clearly makes you happy. I see the way you smile every time his name pops up on your phone.”

“I just don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“I think you ruined what you had when you slept with him. There’s no going back from that. You need to talk to him.”

“I know.”

“Elsa! Elsa!” Emma heard a familiar voice shouting on the other end of the line. Elsa giggled.

“Sorry I have to go. Anna’s been forcing me to help her make some pro/con lists for the college’s she’s been accepted to.”

“Well she can’t go to Harvard. That’s a given.”

“Can’t go to Penn either.”

“Guess it just has to be Cornell.”

“ Far above Cayuga’s waters - ” Elsa started singing loudly so Anna could hear the alma mater every Cornell student knew by heart by the end of their first semester.

“ With it’s waves of blue-” Emma joined in. “ Stands our noble Alma Mater, glorious to view. LIFT the chorus, speed it onward, loud her praises tell, hail to thee our Alma Mater - ”

In the background Anna groaned. “Not again.”

“ HAIL, ALL HAIL, CORNELL! ” They screamed, bursting out laughing.

“I’m going to Harvard if you don’t stop.” Anna threatened.

“No you’re not.” Elsa turned her attention back to Emma. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later.” They hung up. Emma’s lingerie problem, however, will have to wait another week. She shoved the nicest things she owned into the duffle bag she packed, stuffed her laptop and her journal into her backpack, and finally left her apartment to meet Killian at the car.

He was sitting against the edge of his open trunk, reading something on his phone when she reached him.

“Reading anything interesting?” She asked to get his attention.

“Nope. Just doing some online shopping, love.” Killian kissed her cheek as he took her bag from her and placed it in the trunk. He had a black backpack and his guitar secured in its case. “Breakfast?”

“Please.” Emma was starving and entirely unprepared for the way he took her hand in his after he closed the trunk of his car, nonchalantly, as if this was their normal, their comfortable, their them .

They walked to CollegeTown Bagels, their joined hands swinging gently between them. When they arrived, they got on line as Killian told her a story about one Summer he spent with his grandparents as a kid. His thumb rubbed softly over the back of her hand, engrossed in his own story. Emma, however, wasn't paying any attention.

At the front of the cafe, there was a brunette, a ghost from Emma’s past. Or, at least, she looked like a ghost from Emma’s past. Emma couldn’t quite make out the girl’s face. She was looking down at her phone, her hair blocking Emma’s view. Suddenly her past was flashing before her eyes, unfolding like a horror story where the victim runs into the house and the audience screams stop. But there’s no stopping the spiral Emma’s mind falls into.

A security guard was at the end of the aisle, clearly noticing the PopTart box Emma was shoving under her sweatshirt. The guard cleared her throat when Emma noticed her.

“Are you going to pay for that miss?”

Emma was panicking. She couldn’t pay for it. She didn’t have money. All she had were a few hand-me-down clothes in a backpack and a bruise on her cheek from her last foster home she was trying to escape from.

Thankfully, a brunette around her age came to stand beside her and held up a credit card. “Yes, ma’am. Our Dad’s in the car just outside.” The guard nodded and left them to be. The girl turned to Emma. “The key is swiping one of these.”

Emma nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’m just like you, you know. Trying to get away. I’m Lilly.”

Emma’s grip on Killian’s hand tightened like a vice grip.

“Swan?” KIllian asked, concern blanketing his voice. “Are you alright, love?

But Emma didn’t hear a word he said.

Emma and Lilly shopped for a bit. They became fast friends. When they checked out and left, however, a car not too far away started honking and driving after them. Emma figured this was the man Lilly swiped the card from. So they ran.

They lost the car and Lilly led her to a beautiful lake house that was empty for the season. And they promised to be friends forever, no matter what. Emma told her everything about her life, about moving between foster homes, about the abusive man that ran the last group home she was in, about how alone she felt all the time.

And Lilly pretended to understand. Because, in fact, Lilly couldn’t truly understand what Emma was going through. Because when they were caught later that night, it was Lilly’s father who caught them. Because this was Lilly’s family’s summer home.

Killian’s hand was starting to hurt under Emma’s grasp. It was their turn to place their order and Killian stepped up to the register, taking Emma with him.

The brunette looked up when she stood to throw away her empty coffee cup. It had to be Lilly. But what was she doing in Ithaca? Emma nearly started hyperventilating, wanting to call out to her but being unable to find her voice.

“Swan, what do you want for breakfast?”

Emma watched the girl she assumed to be Lilly leave. “I’m actually not hungry anymore. I think I’ll just meet you outside,” She said, without turning to look at him. Emma let go of Killian’s hand and dashed out of the cafe.

There was already distance between them. Emma just stood there, shocked. She didn’t know what to say or whether to say anything or whether Lilly still hated her. And even though Emma was standing alone, now nowhere near Lilly, she was working herself up to a panic attack. Her entire body was shaking. Killian followed shortly after.

“Emma?” He quickly noticed her panicked state and pulled her into his arms, placing a comforting kiss to her forehead. “Come on, love. Let’s go.”

***

Back at the house, Killian made tea for Emma and opened a package of PopTarts to put on a plate. From the kitchen he felt the weight of Emma’s thoughts, but she hadn’t said a word to him since the cafe. Something happened there, but he couldn’t figure out what. Was it him? Was it another guy? Was she having second thoughts? Was she starting to regret what they did? Was she starting to regret what they were, what they had become, what was so strong between them?

She was curled up on the couch, staring at the TV which was turned to the local news channel. It was Ithaca. It was grey, cold, probably some form of precipitation was expected at some point in the day, some local business was probably doing something for charity, the university students were probably protesting or petitioning something, and there was probably news about music or theatrical performances. Every now and again something major happened at one of the colleges and that was actually newsworthy. All of this to say that if you need something mindless to watch, local news in central New York was the place to turn.

Killian brought the tea and plate over to Emma who graciously accepted the mug but ignored the plate. Killian sat next to her, keeping some distance between them in case he was the reason she was upset. “Talk to me, love,” he urged her, gently.

Emma took a sip of tea. “It’s nothing, Killian.”

“Swan, you’re clearly upset about something. You’re an open book to me.” He sighed. “Did I do something? Do you regret last night?”

Emma looked at him, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. “What?! No! Killian, no.” She set the mug down and laid down, resting her head in his lap. He stroked her hair, playing with his softly. Instantly she felt relaxed, her heart fluttering slightly, her entire body tingling in bliss from the feeling of Killian’s fingers running through her hair.

“You know you can tell me anything, love.”

Emma sighed. “I thought I saw an old friend. I guess she’s more like a former friend. I’m not really sure anymore, to be honest.” Killian stopped his motions and looked at her. “Don’t stop,” Emma nearly whimpered.

Killian chuckled and resumed playing with Emma’s hair. “What happened?”

“Lilly and I met when she saved my ass while I was trying to steal PopTarts from a convenience store.”

“Ah the shoplifting PopTarts story.”

Emma looked up at him. “You remember that?”

Killian blushed. “Aye.”

Emma could’ve kissed him senseless in that moment. Finally, for what felt like the first time in her life, someone genuinely listened to her. And this wasn’t the first time Emma had this realization about Killian. She noticed every time he heard her answers to how her day was. She noticed every time she ranted about school or told him what she learned. But something about this time meant a little more to her.

“Yeah. The shoplifting PopTarts story. Anyway, she made me feel like she was like me. Like she was also a foster kid, bouncing around from home to home. It was a particularly bad time. I was running away from a home that didn’t treat any of the kids right. There was always a reason for the guy running it to hit us, always something we did wrong, something we did to aggravate him. So I ran and I was hungry and I was about to get caught and Lilly stepped in with a credit card and said that our dad was waiting for us outside. She told me she swiped the card from some stranger, that she was also running from the system and brought me to this empty lake house which, by the way, was her family’s lake house because she wasn’t running from the system because she was never in the system and she tricked me into thinking she understood but she couldn’t understand. No one could understand what it’s like to constantly be running as a child, to not have a home, to sometimes have a roof over your head but never be at peace and never feel safe. No one could understand what it’s like to want to get the fuck out so fucking bad that you spend two and a half years living in a car you worked overtime to be able to buy just to have consistency in your fucking transcript so ivy leagues don’t immediately reject you. No one could understand unless they fucking experienced it.”

Emma was screaming by the time she finished. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she bared part of her soul to a man she realized she didn’t want to live without, a man that made her feel loved and at peace and at home, a man who would stand so fiercely beside her through anything life threw at her.

And in that same moment of realization for Emma, Killian fell in love with her.

“Emma . . .” Killian whispered, silently making promises to himself that he dared not speak out loud for fear that she’d run from the sheer intensity of the way he felt for her. No longer would he ever allow her to be hit or hurt. No longer would he ever allow her to feel alone or hungry. No longer would he ever allow her to not have a home or someone she would call family or someone she could turn to when everything was crashing down around her or simply getting too much for one person to carry. No longer would he ever allow her to feel unloved.

He didn’t want her to ever have to run from something again. He wanted to be what she ran to.

“There’s more. I’ll tell you the rest another day.” Emma sat up so that she could curl up against Killian’s side as he engulfed her in his arms. He held her tightly against him and they sat silently for a while. Eventually, they both fell asleep.

***

They were sitting on the floor on either side of the coffee table in the living room, Emma’s back against the couch as she lost yet another game of chess to Killian who broke out his grandfather’s marble chess set. He had even tried to let her win on multiple occasions but Emma was too distracted by his deep blue eyes to pay any mind to the game in front of her. She missed easy takes and fell easily into his traps. Fitting, really, considering how easily she fell for, fell into, him .

“Alright, alright, I surrender.” Emma tapped her foot against Killian’s thigh. “I believe that you promised me a dip in a hot tub?” She asked, smirking at him.

If it were possible to undress someone with your eyes, Killian would’ve been naked in an instant with the look Emma was giving him. He waggled his eyebrows at her, entirely up to play this game she started. “Did you bring your swimsuit, love?"

“Do I need one, Captain?” Emma teased.

“You little minx.” Killian growled, his cock already starting to harden simply at the words falling off her tongue, and the image they created in his mind. “You go change, or strip, either works wonders for me, love, and grab some towels from upstairs.”

Emma giggled and bounded up the stairs to change into her black bikini. She pulled her hair up into a bun on the top of her head, grabbed some towels, and rummaged through the dresser drawers to find a pair of Killian’s swim trunks for him.

She found him in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of red wine. Killian was nothing if not a romantic.

“I hope one of those is for me,” she toyed, wanting to get his attention and catch him off guard while she wore nothing but her bathing suit.

The second he saw her, Killian’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow,” was about all he could manage.

Emma threw his swim trunks at him. “I brought you these.” He caught them, easily.

He handed her a glass and kissed her softly. “Outside on the left end of the deck. I’ll meet you there, my love.”

The cold air nipped at Emma’s skin as she quickly walked towards the hot water, careful not to spill her wine. It was a long day that tested all of her emotions. Quite frankly, she was exhausted and stressed. Killian tried all day to keep her mind busy, tried to help her relax. As graceful as we were for him, none of it worked. Her past with Lilly kept replaying over and over like a broken record or a film on loop. Sinking into the warm bubbly water, her back against a few of the jets, finally she felt herself relaxing. The jets felt so good against her back she was nearly moaning by the time Killian joined her. She actually didn’t even notice him slipping into the tub across from her until he chuckled.

“Enjoying yourself, love?”

“This might be better than sex.”

Killian threw his head back and laughed. He could have come up with a cheeky line, but he knew she needed this. He knew she needed to really relax, to turn her mind off for a second. He’d follow her lead on where this went.

“Come here, Swan.” He took a sip of his wine and set it down on the ledge behind him. Emma moved to sit between Killian’s legs. He placed a sensual kiss on her shoulder and his hands trailed up her arms to rub her shoulders, working at the knots that had formed there likely from stress.

Emma moaned softly. “That feels nice.”

“All I want is to make you feel good.” Killian whispered against her ear, nipping teasingly at her lobe.

“Mmm you’re succeeding.”

He trailed kisses slowly down her neck, stopping at her pulse point to suck gently at her skin. His fingertips ghosted down her sides, tracing the curves of her breasts and her waist. “I’ve wanted you since the day I met you, Swan.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine as he spoke in that timbre she learned was reserved for only the sultriest of remarks, the dirtiest of phrases, the sexiest of sayings.

“Well now you have me . . . And I’m all yours, Killian.” Emma’s hands rested on Killian’s thighs. As much as she wanted to turn to face him, to straddle his legs and grind into him, to tell him to take shed them of the few clothes creating a barrier between them, Emma was quite enjoying this teasing game.

“And I, yours, love.” Killian pulled her back against him so she could feel the effect her words had on him. “Just hearing you say that is enough to turn me on.”

Emma wiggled her ass back against him which elicited a hiss from Killian behind her. “I quite enjoy having this effect on you, Captain.”

“Oh do you now?”

“Aye,” Emma said, mocking his accent.

Killian chuckled. “You think you’re funny?”

“Aye,” she mocked again, a devilish grin plastered on her face.

In response, Killian nipped at her pulse point, dragging his teeth teasingly over her skin, sucking to leave his mark on her. Not expecting how incredible that would feel, Emma gasped. “Not so funny anymore, are you, my love?”

Taking a deep breath to attempt to calm her racing heart, Emma hummed softly. “It’s hard to think straight when you’re doing such salacious things to me.”

Killian trailed his fingertips underwater over her stomach, whispering in a sultry tone against her neck between wet kisses, “Close your eyes, Swan.”

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?”

Emma closed her eyes. “With all my heart.” She let her head fall back against Killian’s shoulder.

“Imagine I’m kissing down your body,” Killian whispered, trailing his hand between her breasts and down her stomach to the waistband of her bikini bottoms. Emma hummed in response. “Teasing just above where I know you want me.”

Dancing his fingers over her skin, he turned his attention to her breast. “You’re wearing far too much clothing, love.”

Emma reached behind her neck and untied the top while Killian untied the back, tossing the material to the ground beside the tub. “Better?” She teased.

“Much,” Killian smirked, cupping her breasts in his hands, massaging gently.

Emma moaned, heat pooling in the pit of her stomach. “Killian . . .”

“Does that feel good love?” He purred.

“Fuck, Killian. Yes,” Emma groaned, arching her back as if her body was begging for more of his touch, more of his voice, more of his everything.

He placed a kiss on her shoulder. “You’re so beautiful, Emma.”

Emma hummed softly. “Don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what? Talking?” Killian teased.

“Don’t stop talking,” Emma affirmed, the simple way each word teasingly fell off his tongue sending chills down her spine.

“As you wish, my love.” One of his hands grazed over a sensitive spot on her side.

Emma broke out into a fit of giggles. “Killian! Stop!"

Killian chuckled, purposely tickling her. “Stop?”

“I’m ticklish!” Emma nearly bucked back against him, her laughter uncontrollable. Killian grins, the carefree nature of her genuine laugh warmed his heart. For once today, after a long, stressful day, it looked like Emma was relaxed. But he stopped, lifting both of his hands off of her body, complying with her request.

“Wait, no,” Emma whimpered.

“No?”

“Come back.” She reached back and grabbed one of his wrists, bringing his hand back to rest on her stomach.

“I’m here, Swan. Wherever you need me.” He lowered his lips back to her neck, over the mark he had left earlier. Once again, his hands were roaming her torso, dancing over her stomach, careful to avoid her ticklish sides, caressing her breasts beneath the water, teasing her nipples.

Emma groaned, his name slipping effortlessly from her lips as her eyes close and her head resettles against his shoulder. “More,” she whispers, as if saving that word only for him.

“How about,” Killians hands trailed down her body to her thighs, “here?”

Emma inhales sharply, his fingers dangerously close to where she so desperately needs him. “More,” she repeats. “Killian, please.”

She can feel him smile against her throat, grinning like a madman.

“Where?” He asked, as if he didn’t already know, as if he didn’t already know where she was aching for his touch, as if he wasn’t aching to give her everything she needed, everything she wanted.

Emma rested her hand over his, guiding him to rest above where she needed him over her bikini bottoms. He strummed his fingers over her clit. “Oh god.”

“Killian will do just fine, love,” he joked, chuckling as he continued his teasing.

If Emma could do anything other than moan she might’ve - would’ve - rolled her eyes at him. Instead, she played along, giving him exactly what he asked for. “Oh Killian.”

He hummed softly. “I love the way you moan my name, letting the world know who’s turning you on, who’s making you feel this good.”

Grinding her hips into his hand, Emma was reaching the point of begging. “Killian,” she pleaded, “more.”

Killian grinned, having found the perfect opportunity to mention one of the ridiculous pickup lines he had spent hours looking for on the internet after they had first met when she was studying for economics. “Are your legs available for some open market operations, Swan?”

Emma’s eyes shot open and she turned around to playfully hit his chest.

“What? Not up for a conversation about open markets, Swan? I thought you’d be an expert after all that studying you’ve been doing.” He smirked, clearly enjoying this game they’ve been playing.

Emma glared pointedly at him, a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. “You almost ruined the mood.”

“Almost?” Killian raised an eyebrow at her.

Emma shifts to straddle his legs, now facing him, finally able to see the storm in his eyes. Killian dragged his nails down her bare back, scratching gently. Her hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck and her lips captured his in a passionate kiss she had been longing for since this dance began. His tongue slipped between her lips, finding hers as he held her close to her. Instinctively, Killian groaned into her mouth as her hips rolled over his straining cock.

Emma grinned against his lips. “You like that, Captain?”

Killian hummed, his hands now resting on her hips, edging her down harder on him as she resisted. “More, Emma,” Killian pleaded.

“My, my, how the tables have turned.”  Emma listed her hips off him entirely, eliciting a groan from the man beneath her.

“You’re killing me, love.” His hands ran over her ass, squeezing.

“Hmmmm maybe I’m feeling a sense of sympathy,” Emma teased, her hands toying with his hair, “for those swim trunks.” While her eyes portrayed the utmost innocence, her words insinuated that her intentions were anything but.

Killian smirked, waggling his eyebrows at her. ���A growing sense?”

Emma giggled. “Well something’s growing.” She ran her hands down his chest until her fingers were brushing along his waistband. Killian leaned back, giving her the room she needed, groaning and laughing softly at the utter bliss rippling through his body at every brush of her fingertips.

Her hands grazed over his cock, clearly hard and ready for her. “Why don’t we move this into the bedroom?” She whispered salaciously against his lips.

“Swan, you read my mind.” She left him with a quick kiss, hopping out of the tub and wrapping a towel around her as she raced towards the back door to escape the cold, Ithaca night, with Killian following closely behind.

***

The past few days had been more than Emma ever could have dreamed of. Falling asleep wrapped in Killians arms holding her closely against her, waking up to freshly made cups of coffee, spending days playing games and reading and telling nonsensical stories, spending evening curled up on the couch watching whatever seemed interesting on Netflix, and spending nights making out on the couch like hormonal teenagers was simply perfect.

It was Wednesday. Spring break was halfway over and Emma dreaded having to go back to the reality of classes and studying and being apart from Killian. Her eyes fluttered open, sighing as Killian trailed butterfly kisses down her body. He had pushed the covers away, needing to see her face for cues. They hadn’t bothered getting dressed from the night before and had fallen asleep shortly after cleaning up from a delightful rendezvous.

She gripped the pillowcase with one hand while her other ran through his messy hair. A sleepy moan escaped her lips when he kissed her inner thigh. “Well this is a nice way to wake up,” Emma purred.

Killian grinned against her thigh, his stubble scratching gently against her only turned her on more. Unfortunately any endeavour he had planned for that morning was interrupted by Emma’s phone. He groaned, resting his cheek against her thigh, looking up at her with pleading, piercing blue eyes. “Please don’t answer that,” Killian begged. He’d been wanting to taste her all week, but they always seemed to get a little caught up in the moment.

Emma checked her phone, thinking it might be Belle asking her to come in a day or two to help out this week. “It’s August,” she said, confused. August never called her. His preferred method of annoying her was sending a million and a half text messages in a row until she answered. She gently swatted Killians face away from her, a move that was met with an even louder groan as he flopped onto his back. Emma answered the phone. “August?”

“Ems, I don’t fucking know what I’m going to fucking do,” August said, his voice sounding absolutely wrecked on the other end of the line.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Emma asked, concern so clearly blanketing each word that Killian was no longer pouting like an incessant child and instead tossing her his t-shirt from the floor before grabbing a clean pair of boxers from the dresser for himself.

“I can’t fucking believe this is happening. Everything is falling apart.” It sounded like August, someone who had been her rock through the stress of their first semester, was crying. Emma quickly pulled Killian’s shirt on.

“August you have to talk to me. What happened?”

“I didn’t get the fucking internship.”

“The one with the publishing house in New York? I thought the final interview went well! The HR rep basically told you that you got the job.”

“Don’t you think I fucking know that?!” August screamed. Emma winced. “Fuck, Ems I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” Emma asked softly.

August sighed. “I have no idea. I got great feedback after every round and they basically handed me the job after the last round but I must’ve fucked up something because I got a rejection email this morning.” He choked on a sob. This was his dream internship. He had worked his entire life for the chance to be at this publishing house. He spent countless hours prepping and forcing Emma to ask him interview questions he had complied from random internet sources and previous interns he connected with on LinkedIn.

“August, I’m so sorry. You have that other interview right?”

“I turned it down. I turned it down after the empty promises HR made.”

Emma’s heart broke for her friend. “Fuck August. I’m so sorry.” Killian came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth and flopped back into bed, throwing his arm over his eyes. Emma reached over to play with his hair with her free hand.

“I don’t know what to do.” August whispered.

“We’ll figure this out. There are still applications open and great publishing houses to start at. Check Nashville. If you’re feeling adventurous check London.” Emma paused. “We’ll figure this out, August.”

“I just wish I knew what I did wrong.”

“So send an email. You had a good relationship with that guy in HR, send him an email and ask for some feedback so that you can come back next year and do better.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” August sighed heavily. “Thanks Ems. I better go. Sorry for bothering you.”

“I’m always here for you, Gus.”

August snorted. “I hate you.”

“Aw, I love you too!”

Killian smiled next to her, partially because it felt damn good when she ran her hand through his hair like she was doing and partially because it warmed his heart to hear how much she cared about her friends. And he would have been lying if he didn’t admit that he was imagining what it would be like to be on the receiving end of her “I love you.”

Emma hung up the phone after saying goodbye and sighed.

Killian uncovered his eyes to look up at her. “Everything alright, Swan?”

“Yeah. Something happened with August’s internship and he’s back at square one.”

Killian rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “Why do I sense there’s something else? You forget you’re an open book to me, love.”

“I just . . . I haven't even thought about what I was going to do this summer.”

Suddenly, Killian’s heart was in his throat, realizing that Emma might choose to spend the Summer in a glamorous city working for an incredible publishing house . . . away from him.

“What do you want to do?” He asked, tentatively but ready to fully support whatever dreams and goals she had. If only she knew how deeply he was in this thing that they started, how fiercely he’d stand beside her no matter what, how no matter where in the world she was he’d either wait for her or follow her. Killian, he was realizing this week, would follow her to the end of the world, or time, if that’s what it took to be with her.

Emma smiled down at him, shifting so she was no longer sitting up next to him but laying down facing him. “I want to write. I really want to write.”

Writing . Writing was something she could do anywhere. Writing was something she could do in Ithaca. Writing was something she didn’t have to leave him to accomplish. Killian grinned before showering her face in kisses.

Emma giggled, rolling onto her back so that Killian was taking his place atop her. “What's all this for?” She asked between fits of giggles, pretending like she didn’t know why Killian was happy - ecstatic really. Her whole life she wanted to be a writer, to tell stories like the ones that got her through the worst moments of her life, the ones that provided her an escape even when she was too tired to run, the ones that gave her hope and showed her love and captured her wildest imaginations. Writing suddenly had an added benefit. She could write wherever she wanted to write. She could write from Ithaca. She could stay near Killian. Emma didn’t need to give up her heart to follow her dreams.

“I just -” Killian paused, his heart racing as he smiled down at Emma beneath him.

“What, Killian?”

His heart skipped a beat when she said his name. Granted, there was nothing he adored more than the way Emma said his name. This time, however, she spoke his name as if she was claiming him as her own. “I just really didn’t want you to be away from me.”

“I think you’re stuck with me.” Emma pulled him close to her. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

“Emma, I am always yours.”

Neither of them could imagine, in that moment, a life without each other. And so they didn’t.

[lovehelpmewrite]

A Very Bad Day

Title: A Bad Day

Pairing: Gwil x OFC!Ella

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Ella is having a... less than amazing day. It turns out Gwilym is just what she needed to turn it around though.

Warnings: underage drinking i know bad dont do it im sorry

[A/N]: Okay so I know this is technically before Macarons and Spoiled Surprises but it’s been bothering me for months that I never wrote the middle step between our first date and us doing... y’know, you’ve read it i hope. So yeah, this is that middle step. Half inspired by an actual shit day I had, half inspired by my better half having had a bad day the day I wrote this. Enjoy and feedback is always welcome!! Also thank you thank you thank you to my best fren Mic @o-holynight​ for making me another amazing header just for this fic you’re so good to me and if you haven’t yet go through her masterlist because it slaps 

It was a crappy day. It was pouring, which normally I wouldn't mind—in fact I loved a good rainy day—but I had opened my window the night before and woken up to find my desk soaked in rain water and one of my notebooks with it.

"Ahhh shit," I muttered to myself as I woke up and climbed out of bed at the sound of the rain hitting the desk. I quickly latched the thing closed and looked down at the crinkling wet paper that was my notebook, picking it up by a corner and watching the water slide off the cover and off the pages. "Shhhhhit," I repeated, feeling my heart sink when I opened the cover and noticed the ink either bleeding into the other pages or sliding off along with the water. At least I didn't really use it, I thought. It was still sad to see something that I'd paid for just... Fall apart like this though.

I dropped it into the trash bin with a sigh and vowed to start getting ready to go out and buy a new one. Right after I have breakfast, I thought. As it turns out, there was no breakfast. No cereal, no pancake mix or frozen waffles. It was grocery day and Michaela had just left saying she was going to grab Joe so they could do the shopping for both at once. 

Okay so I'll go out for breakfast, I decided.

Except the coffee shop was closed. Again, no big deal but... It was another block in the freezing rain to the nearest cafe. It was too close to drive, especially because there was no parking down by it. Walking it is then. The sidewalk was slick with the freezing rain and the leftovers from the last snow so I tried my best to watch my steps and still maintain a quick pace. 

Needless to say I almost slipped—I didn't thankfully—but I caught myself at the last second in such a way that my umbrella swung out to the side and in an instant I felt drenched to the bone. I walked in looking like a half-drowned rat, ordered a muffin to go and tried to calm my anxious heart at the stares I was getting from the other patrons. In case you were wondering, yes, it's possible to angrily eat a muffin.

After I made it back to my car I drove to the nearest Staples and practically moaned as the warm rush of air hit my chilled face and body. I picked out a cute notebook—for sixteen fucking dollars, jesus Staples, cost more yeah?—and slapped it on the counter. The younger looking kid checking me out started at the noise but just smiled and asked if I wanted to join their rewards program. 

And then I was stood under the edge of the Staples sign trying to desperately shove the notebook in my jacket against my chest because what was once pouring rain had turned into a torrential downpour. It was like a sheet of water coming down at once while thunder boomed in the distance. I held an arm across my coat-covered-notebook and took a deep breath, readying myself for the sheer force of it to pound against the top of my umbrella.

By the time I got back to the dorm my legs up to my knees were soaked even despite my rain boots, as was the back of my coat and my umbrella. The notebook somehow survived the trip thankfully. As I was pulling it out of my jacket my phone buzzed in my coat pocket. A text from Mic.

Hey, over at the boys' and groceries are all put away

Is Gwil home? I might head over in a bit. Having a shit day :(

Aw im sorry :( he is tho I think. I'll ask

I waited a few seconds and then waited for the three dots while she typed.

He isn't but he's coming home in like half an hour from a reading

"Nice," I whispered to myself. Finally, something good today.

Im gonna shower. When he gets home tell him I'm coming?

Yeah ofc

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, glad to finally have something to look forward to. I took off my jacket and hung it on my door to dry before walking into the bathroom and peeling off my soaked jeans and socks, letting them sit on the floor while I turned the shower to scalding hot. I hissed as it hit my back but quickly adjusted to it, letting the water pooling at the bottom thaw my toes. I picked up my razor with a little indecision. He wasn't even going to see my legs or my armpits as far as I was planning, let alone anywhere near my underwear... I shaved anyway. As a way to pass time in the warm water at the least, and at the most it would make my sheets feel nice later. 

I got dressed in some loose sweats and a tank top, foregoing a bra with the assumption I was the only one home but when I came out of my room Sarah was back from her class eating at the table.

"Hey!" She said with a smile.

"Hey," I said back quietly, walking to the cupboard and pulling down a bag of chips. "How was class?"

"Ugh, don't even get me started. That dude was still trying to argue with the professor the entire class," she explained, rolling her eyes.

"Someone should keep a tally of every time he says something and then at the end of class take that many points off his latest paper or something," I offered with a small grin.

"We should, oh my god," she laughed back. "Hey, are you okay? Mic said you were having a crappy day."

I nodded, shrugging. "Yeah, I dont know it's just... A lot of little shit adding up, y'know?"

She nodded with a sad smile.

I took a deep breath and tried to stay positive though. "Good news though, I'm heading over to see the boys in a little bit. Did you wanna come with?"

"Ah, I'm going to meet Ben for lunch after his class gets out in like half an hour."

"Ah," I said in confirmation. "Okay, I'll see you later tonight? We need another girls night in, it's been too long."

She smiled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I'll see if I can pick up some stuff beforehand. It's your turn to pick right?" 

I nodded, "yeah." 

"Okay, cool. Nothing scary please? I like sleeping without nightmares."

I laughed, carrying the chips with me back to my room. "I'll do my best to let you keep your beauty sleep," I said over my shoulder before closing the door. 

I sat down on my bed with a sigh, dropping the chips next to me and reaching for my phone.

Gwil just got home, he's in the shower rn tho

Okay tell him im omw and I dont mind waiting or something

I made sure to pull on a sports bra and a sweatshirt before I left, as well as a pair of fuzzy socks inside my rain boots. I was nearly jogging across the street to the apartment, buzzing with excitement to see Gwil. 

We haven't been out on any dates since our second when he kissed me, but we had a lot of days where we walked each other to class or we'd get lunch together. Sadly, we hadn't kissed much since then but we made up for it with a lot of hand holding, or his palm on my back, or my hand on his knee and honestly... it was kind of nice just like that. Still, a day like today deserved some serious hugs at the very least. 

My frozen fingers shook as I pressed the buzzer and I exhaled in relief when it buzzed again and the lock clicked open, allowing me to rush into the warm elevator and ride up to the apartment. When I got up to the door though, I hesitated. 

Do I knock? Do I just walk in? Do I knock and then walk in anyways? 

I pulled out my phone and texted Mic.

Im outside the door

Come in lol?

Come open it I feel weird 

Between the previous cold and my embarrassment I'm sure my cheeks were tomato-red. She just smiled upon seeing me, waiting for me to take off my dripping boots and then motioning her head toward the couch.

"Gwil's probably getting out soon, you can wait with me and Joe on the couch," she explained, sitting back down next to Joe to watch whatever movie they had playing on the TV. I perched awkwardly on the edge of the cushion, trying—and failing—to control my bouncing knee while I waited for Gwil. 

"Hey."

I almost jumped at the soft greeting, springing off the couch and turning to him. My heart was thumping in my chest nervously.

He was just in sweats and a t-shirt but something about it was just so… hot. I hadn't noticed how shaggy his hair was getting until now, still dripping wet and hanging over his forehead a little. I almost missed when he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. 

"Do you wanna… my room?" He asked awkwardly.

I nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah- sure yeah."

I followed quietly behind him as he walked down the hall, stepping into the room and waiting for him to close the door. Then I was stuck just watching while he moved to sit on the edge of his bed with a bounce. I pressed my lips together to suppress an awkward smile, looking around his room. He had different playbills taped up on his wall above his bed, and his desk was covered in papers and packets and textbooks.

"So…" I started, bringing my eyes back to face him.

"So…" he mimicked back, a gentle smile growing on his face.

I breathed out a little laugh and moved to sit next to him on the edge of his mattress, copying his bounce from before and then bumping my shoulder into his.

"So how was your reading? How did it go?" I asked lightly, trying to start some sort of conversation, any conversation.

"Good! It was good," he answered back.

And then more quiet.

"Okay this is awful," I admitted before I could stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

Gwil's eyebrows shot up in surprise, like he couldn't believe I was saying it.

"Can we just like… I don't know, can we just watch something on your laptop or something? I just…" I blew out a quick breath and started to feel my eyes burn with tears I'd been holding in. "I've had a really shitty day and I was so excited to come over and see you and I don’t want it to be all... weird like it is."

He was quiet for a second, which gave me some time to calm back down a little and not actually shed tears.

"You're right," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Okay, why don't we… Do you have something in mind to watch?" 

It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. "I mean I… what do you normally watch? What's your favorite show?"

It seemed to do the trick, the tension slowly released its grip on the room and we even managed to move back on his bed so he was positioned laying against his pillows and I was tucked neatly under his arm, half laying on his stomach. We'd agreed on Criminal Minds and somehow watched our way through two entire episodes before we forgot it all together and started talking… and then, well, kissing.

It started off innocent enough. I'd turned my head to joke about Spencer's hair in this season but instead found Gwil already looking at me with a soft smile.

"What?" I laughed.

He just gave a full smile and shook his head. "Nothing."

We were both quiet for a second, and then he leaned in and gave me a peck on the lips.

Oh.

I smiled back and leaned back into him, pressing my lips to his again but longer this time, slower, lingering…

We pulled back slowly, eyes still half closed. And then I felt the slightest squeeze of his hand on my waist and he surged forward again, lips firmly against mine, his tongue teasing across my bottom lip before biting gently.

Oh. 

I hummed in appreciation, leaning further against him until my leg hooked in between his and his hand was sliding up my back into my hair and grabbing lightly. 

My heart was racing in my chest. Was this it? Was I going to fuck him not 50 feet from our friends? Why am i even thinking that? Calm the hell down. 

I practically had to force myself to pull away, my fist still twisted in his shirt, still breathing heavily and close enough to be tempted to go back but I made myself stop.

"We have to… we should just slow down a little," I said quietly.

Gwil nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Yeah you're right we should just… take it easy for a bit."

I nodded back. 

Still, we somehow gravitated towards each other again until we were kissing again, albeit softer this time. Somehow we managed to keep it slow. Calm. Instead of dipping back into... dangerous territory. It was just… nice. 

It was comforting and reassured a lot of doubts I had. It was almost like a little dance, like a conversation. He'd lean forward and catch my lip with his teeth and in return I'd slide my tongue against his lip. It was jarring when suddenly everything went quiet and we both pulled apart in question only to see Netflix asking if we were still watching.

I laughed a little which seemed to make Gwil laugh which made me laugh more and snort and then he laughed more until we were both clutching our stomachs gasping for air in between laughs. Once we'd finally calm down we were left just staring at each other, not waiting for the other to talk, just looking at each other's faces and smiles and eyes.

"Y'know I was having a pretty crappy day and you made it a hell of a lot more bearable," I said honestly.

"I'm happy I could make your day better," he answered back, his smile wide.

I paused for a minute, contemplating saying anything. "Is it… is it weird if I really like making out with you?"

He shook his head quickly, "no! No of course not. I'm glad my skills were… put to good use." His smile turned smug.

I shoved his chest jokingly, turning in his grasp like I was going to roll away. I grinned when his hand fell to my hip and pulled me back in against him so his mouth was slotted against mine.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To find someone with better lines I guess," I laughed.

"Are you saying you don't like my pick up lines?" He fake pouted, lips puckered out and all.

I gave him a quick kiss. "That's exactly what I'm saying." I laughed again when he dramatically flopped against the bed like he couldn't believe it. I kissed his jaw sweetly, turning it into a raspberry which made him laugh.

"Careful there, I don't need any weirdly placed hickies," he warned with a grin.

"So just for clarification, you don't want a big hickey on your cheek?" I asked, pretending to get ready to mark his cheek.

"Definitely not."

"Hmm," I hummed in mock disappointment. "And I had such plans too."

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said back, turning his head to face me and tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. He slowly leaned in and gave me another peck on the lips, and then another… and then one more. "You know, I'm really glad you came over."

I smiled back at him. "Me too."

We were quiet once again, just staring at each other again, every once in a while saying some small comment or joke or compliment but otherwise quiet. After a little bit, just when I was starting to feel sleepy, there was a quiet knock on the door.

"Come in," Gwil answered.

Michaela poked her head in after a second with a small smile. "Hey, I was just going to head back, it's almost six," she said softly.

"Oh Jesus, is it really?" I asked in surprise, picking up my phone to see texts from Sarah asking when I'd be back home. "Damn," I laughed slightly.

"Yeah, Sarah said you wanted to do a night in so do you wanna go to the store before home?"

I nodded, slowly untangling myself from Gwil and sitting up, stretching out my muscles. "Yeah, I'll be out in a few minutes, I gotta get the feeling back in my legs," I chuckled.

"Okay, I'll go pull on my shoes."

I stretched out each of my arms and legs, turning awkwardly to stretch my spine before I sighed, turning back to face a very tired looking Gwilym. "Hi."

"Hi," he grinned back, briefly stretching his back before relaxing back against his pillows. "Before you go, come here."

I grinned and leaned back in, our lips connecting for a long, sweet kiss. "Was that all?" I asked after it ended.

"No, one more," he smirked, pulling me back in for another peck. "Okay one more," and then another peck, "just one more-"

"Gwil," I laughed in between kisses. "I- gotta- go- you big dork-"

He gave a big dramatic sigh after the last kiss when I stood up away from him. "Fine, if you must."

"I must," I grinned. "Sorry bub."

"No it's okay," he relented with a smile. "I'll see you on Saturday, right? You're still coming over to hang out?"

I nodded. "Of course, I can't wait." I was reluctant to leave him, looking so soft and inviting and ready for a nap… I forced myself to walk out and close the door behind me, walking out to the living room to find Mic pulling on her shoes while Joe stood by.

"Hey," I announced, making her look up at me after she had both boots on.

"Hey, ready?" 

"Yep, lets go get drunk," I affirmed.

"Woah woah woah," Joe interjected, making me turn to him.

"Sorry dad, was I not supposed to tell you that?" I laughed.

"No drinking and driving young lady, be responsible," he said, pointing a faux serious finger at each of us.

"Sure, yeah, whatever you say," I dismissed with a grin. I turned to Mic, "want anything particular? I was planning on wine and some candy."

She shrugged. "Sounds good to me. Grab me some of the uhh the sour patch watermelon things though? Oh! And Reece's pieces," she grinned at the last second as I was walking out the door.

"You already know," I grinned back, shaking my head and closing the door to let her and Joe do their own little goodbyes.

When I made it back down to the front door, ready to open my umbrella and sprint to my car, I noticed it had stopped raining. It was still wet everywhere and puddles took up half the sidewalk but the once black sky was lightened to a pale gray. Michaela beat me back to the dorm, unsurprisingly and I walked in with full arms, happy to be greeted by Sarah and Mic pulling things out of my hands and already opening things.

"Yesss you got the good shit Ella," Sarah said gratefully, pulling out a bag of m&m's.

"Always," I smiled, pulling out a plastic container of cotton candy for myself.

"Okay so what are we watching?" Sarah asked, already transporting stuff to the couches. 

It was obvious the two of them had moved everything for optimal TV viewing.

"I was thinking Umbrella Academy if that's cool?"

They both nodded, mouths already full of candy. 

I laughed. "Okay, Umbrella Academy it is then. I'll grab the wine."

Somewhere between the third and fourth episode we'd finished the first bottle of wine and went to open the second only to find it impossible.

"Just… open it," Sarah laughed, watching me trying to use the wine bottle opener to grab the cork and failing.

"I'm trying!" I laughed back, pulling out pieces of cork instead of the entire thing. "Dammit! Mic come help us!" I called.

The TV paused as she came over and looked over the destroyed cork, pushed nearly all the way into the bottle. "Dude what did you even do?!" She chuckled.

"I tried to open it, what do you think!" I laughed back.

"Okay, gimme a spoon, I'll shove it into the bottle."

"What? No take it out!" Sarah laughed.

"I can't! This one-" Mic laughed, pointing at me, "destroyed the cork and now its not gonna come out!"

I was wheezing from laughing so hard, practically laying across the counter. "I'm sorry!"

Sarah laughed at my reaction in response, squatting next to the counter trying to catch her breath as well.

"Fine I'll find a spoon myself!" Mic declared, still laughing while she tried to push down on the cork. "Ahah!" She yelled in triumph making us laugh even harder at the pop of it dropping into the wine.

We ate our way through almost all of the candy and the two bottles of wine over five episodes before we decided to call it a night (or well, early morning but same thing). 

It was nice, to go to bed feeling warm and loved and like a crap day had turned good. I fell asleep easily and without resistance, the opposite to how I'd woken up. It was a good day, I decided.

- - -

feedback is always appreciated and thank you for reading lovelies!!

[artsninspo]

PULSE : PART III - WHO IS YOU?

PART I | PART II | PART III

PART III - WHO IS YOU?

Black had always been a pretty good judge of character, its how he’d survived on his own for so long. He did what he had to do to survive comfortably, nothing more nothing less. He didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep and he maintained relationships within their necessary boundaries - never blurring lines. Women had always been the easiest to keep in check. He had a reputation as a sure thing, rules too like no contact it it wasn’t about sex. No contact if she’s on her period. If he needed someone to talk to he’d see a shrink. If he needed love he’d get a pet or visit Lisa the woman that raised him.

His size and demeanour did what he needed it to do. Keep people away.

Elle Blake on paper and in person were two completely different people. She’d lived a privileged life but could navigate the neighbourhood without issue. She didn’t take his demeanour towards her personally and her mouth is fucking lethal.

Everyday, he’d see her walking home and everyday he drove past her, rain or shine. Since then Black had been getting presents in his washer and dryer. Boxers with days of the week printed on the ass, socks with toe slits in ridiculous colours with his name printed on the bottoms and other childish annoying shit. Today in the dryer were the lollies from down the street “suckers to stay sucker free”. He’d have checked anyone else for it but he knew she was doing it purposely to get under his skin and not to be disrespectful.

The rain is really coming down and Elle looks around but all the cabs are occupied. He contemplates making his car spray her with water but decides against it pulling over slowly and opening the door. She looks confused before walking and getting in.

“Thanks” she mutters getting on her seatbelt on and shivering from being drenched. He turns off the air conditioning to keep her from getting a cold. She’s pissed - not at him but he can feel the anger radiating from her. Her phone rings and she declines the call immediately taking a deep breath. Her phone rings again and she rolls down the window chucking it into a puddle. Black continues to drive when he hears her sniffle and she wipes the tears away smearing her make up. Its not an act, it’s not like the games women ploy to get attention. He says nothing enjoying the silence until his phone rings. He hits decline not wanting to talk business in the company of someone else.

Black parks looking over at Elle and reaching into his glove compartment taking out some wet-wipes.

“You’re not about to leave my car looking like that” he comments pointing at her racoon eyes from the tears and make up. She concedes taking the wet wipes pulling down the mirror and cleaning herself up . When she’s done she gets her things taking her trash and unlocking the door.

“I’m not trying to get in your business-“

“Then don’t” Elle snaps before sighing with tears in her eyes again. “Look, I appreciate the ride, thank you can we leave it at that?” She asks causing him to chew the inside of his lip.

“I hope no one in the neighbourhood has you soft like this” he comments casually looking away from her and at his mirror. He’d threatened her and she’d kept her cool - whatever this was it had to be big.

“Nothing to do with anything here” Elle sighs looking at Black honestly.

He nods unlocking the door, “Cool” he says but she’s already out the car heading inside. He stops in his tracks seeing Dia Evans the best lawyer in the city, maybe even state and her daughter at Elles door. Their eyes are kind and caring; everything Elle doesn’t want right now. She stops looking up at them and turning to head back towards the exit.

“Elle!” Dia calls before she can open the door.

“Kiz, Dia, I’m fine. I don’t want company or to talk about it I just want to be alone - respect that or leave” Elle says calmly with tears in her eyes again.

“Okay” Kizzy agrees but Dia doesn’t say anything. “Is this Mr. Asshole” Kizzy whispers looking at Black who’s witnessed everything.

“Black” Elle mutters in response heading up the flight of stairs to her door.

He didn’t know what to make of it. Especially when the yelling started and went on for hours. Especially when Kizzy knocked at his door looking worn out.

“Sorry to bother you, where can I find the super?” She asks.

“He don’t be here like that” Black comments looking down at her with his typical expression.

“Guess, I’ll just google his number” Kizzy breathes looking back in the direction of Elles door?

“Is the yelling over?” He asks offending Kizzy.

“Fuck you” she snarls flipping him off and storming down the stairs to the exit.

She’s the hot head.

Black notes giving her a pass, whatever it was they all were acting crazy. He shouldn’t have opened the door for her in the first place.

…

Black had noticed Elle on the screens when she first came in. He shook his head watching all the guys in the venue posture themselves to get at her. Business had to be completed but still his eyes searched the monitors every few minutes making a mental not of where Elle was next, all the while ignoring his associates periodically. In his mind she was too pretty to be here. Not that she was the most beautiful woman ever, it’s just every man likes new pussy and to be the first to tap into it. He’d watched her throw at least five shots back getting happier each time and bouncing around dancing with any and everyone. He checked the time only to see thirty minutes until closing - usually it would be more sparse than this.

“Get these nigga’s outta here” Reggie his security who does exactly that leaving Elle entertaining the bartender. He’d never seen Stevie look at a woman the way he was looking at Elle and he’s gay.

“I got this you close up” Black says stepping behind the bar as Elle hiccups looking up. It takes her nearly a minute to recognize him and when she does she groans.

“Fuck” she laughs putting her head down onto her crossed arms. “God, I don’t wanna dream about this guy” she says looking into the ceiling.

“You aren’t dreaming” he tells her and she pouts taking another shot.

“That’s enough or you’ll have your stomach pumped”

“Doesn’t matter, nothing matters” she sniffles looking around. “Why’d they stop the music?” She asks.

“It’s three in the morning”

“How much would it cost you to kill me?” Her words surprise Black.

“Dia Evans’ niece?” He asks and she shakes her head coherent enough to understand it’s not going to happen.

“Come on lets go” he says but she refuses.

“Turn the music back on, I’m not done yet” she smiles getting behind the empty booth and pressing buttons turning on music but only one subwoofer is connected making it much less obnoxious. Black pours himself a drink watching her jump around in performance to two songs before he gets up.

“You look like a terrible dancer”

“I am”

“Shame, if you’re bad at that you’re bad at other things” Elle winks twirling around him playfully. “Surprising because I know it isn’t your personality that keeps those girls coming back”

“So you’ve given it some thought?” Black asks making Elle giggle.

“I don’t care about that stuff” Elle laughs shrugging. “My life was perfect, I had so much fun everyday, I laughed so much”

“What changed?’ Black asks and she swallows.

“Everything” she mutters. Before fanning her eyes and refusing to cry. He changes his posture to be less intimidating as he sits on one of the speakers letting Elle do her thing. “It’d tell you but you probably already know super sleuth” Elle smiles but its just a brave face.

“My name is Trevante, Tre for short’

“You’re just telling me that because I’m drunk and won’t remember”

“Maybe, but I don’t know why you’ve been sulking everyday. Kinda disappointing” he comments making Elle laugh as he stands. “Clubs closing” He points to the door and she retrieves a fluffy fur coat from coat check making Tre laugh. Its June. She sits in the car needing his help to buckle herself in.

“Trevante!” She shouts out of nowhere startling him before bursting out in laughter. “God my feet hurt” she groans unbuckling her heel straps to take them off. “Ouuuuch” she hisses seeing part of her foot is bloody. “Im gonna have an ugly scar.” She groans.

“It’s a foot”

“I’m a woman feet matter” she says making Tre scoff.

“You were just in the club no one was looking at your feet”

“Thats a damn shame, look at them. They’re cute” she says putting them on the dashboard.

“Beautiful, now take them down before I make you walk”

“You didn’t even look” Elle pouts taking them down and wincing again.

“Is your cousin home, can I drop you there so you don’t die?” Tre asks starting the engine. “No”

Tre nods starting on the way to their apartment building. When they arrive she’s asleep but wakes up to the sound of the car shutting off. Elle looks around re-orienting herself and reaching for her shoes.

“Your’e going to put those things back on?”

“Or walk barefoot?” Elle says sleepily and Tre takes the shoes.

“Where are your keys?”

Elle shrugs. “For fuck sake” Tre snaps heading up the stairs only to find them in her door. He braces himself for anything heading and seeing its a place fit for a princess as he does his check. Before finding a pair of boot like house slippers and heading back to the car to hand them to Elle. He walked behind her up the stairs in case she decided to fall anytime soon. She barely made it to her couch before passing out and making him feel uneasy. He’d cleaned himself up many times before. The cut on her foot of more of a burn but he cleans it correctly bandaging it and holding an ice pack against it while he took mental notes of her apartment. He couldn’t imagine what put her in such a state.

His mother had been beautiful too, once upon a time. Before the drinking turned into smoking, then pills, the prostitution and other stuff.

He sighs taking a deep breath before leaving suddenly feeling overwhelmed himself.

__________

Tags: @bugngiz @lifelover4u @l-auteuse @notsomellowmushroom @princessasaani @heavensangelxo

[narwhalnation17]

Could you talk more about your fic idea where Luther runs away from the academy and starts working on a flower shop? You mentionated on some tags and I am dying out of curiosity about it!Sorry, but it looks so great and so wholesome, I need to know more about it!

yes!!! omg im so glad you thought it sounded good i was worried nobody would even look at those tags lol

This is gonna be long so buckle up:

The original concept was: What if the accident that caused Reginald to give Luther the Monkey Serum to save his life…wasn’t actually an accident. And then I decided to make the second half insanely fluffy lol

So I was going to start chapter one out in Diego’s POV. He just got kicked out of the police academy because they found out he used a fake ID when he applied and forged a bunch of documents instead of using his real ID because he didn’t want people to know him as “Diego: The Kraken”. Him and Patch had just gone through a massive argument about it and it ended with Patch kicking her out of her apartment that he had been living in. He realizes that to get an apartment of his own he needs to get proof of ID like a birth certificate or social security card. He hates the idea of asking Reginald to meet with him and give him those things, so he decides to break into the academy at night and search through Reggie’s office for them. He gets there and starts looking, when he hears Reggie and Pogo talking and heading his way. He quickly hides in a closet. He overhears a conversation that is something like this:

“But Master Hargreeves, is this really necessary? Surely there must be some other way.”

“The boy wants to leave because he is starting to lose faith in me and in his missions. He is considering a life outside of The Academy. Should I save him from the brink of death, he will feel indebted to me. He will stay loyal and be ready to lead the others when The End comes.”

“But sir-”

“The accident at the chemical plant will bring him to the brink of death, and the serum will bring him back to life. We know the serum works so you have nothing to worry about. The boy will be fine but he will feel as though he owes me his life.”

And Diego is…obviously disturbed by this. So the next morning, he sneaks in again, but this time he seeks out Luther. He finds him, but Luther is immediately suspicious. He tries to explain what he overheard, but Luther thinks that sounds absurd. Dad wouldn’t do that. Dad wouldn’t sabotage a mission to hurt Luther.  Sure, he might not show his affection in obvious ways, but he still cares about Luther…right? But Diego is like, “Why would I make this up?” And Luther is like, “You just want me to leave The Academy because you’re jealous. I’m the only one that hasn’t let Dad down. You want me to be just like you.” This obviously pisses Diego off and the chapter ends with the two of them having a massive argument, rehashing old grudges and insecurities, and Diego being like, “Fuck you if you don’t believe me. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Chapter 2: Luther POV

It had been about a week since Diego’s visit and he couldn’t get it out of his mind. He knows Dad wouldn’t intentionally hurt him, that’s ridiculous, but why couldn’t he stop thinking about it? 

Whatever, whatever, whatever. He has to focus now because the alarm bells are ringing, signaling a mission. He goes in and Dad tells him he has to help evacuate people from…an explosion at a chemical plant. He freezes. Diego said the accident would happen at a chemical plant. That has to be a coincidence. It has to be. There’s no way his Dad would hurt him. There are people in danger and he has to save them. They are counting on him. Dad is counting on him. He has to he has to he has to-

pain-

pain-

all he feels is pain-

Diego was right-

something went wrong-

he screamed and screamed and screamed-

He wakes up. He’s alone and cold and everything feels wrong. He looks down at his body and everything is wrong. What happened to him? This must be a nightmare because now he’s a monster and Dad did this to him and-

All he can do is scream.

Chapter 3: Diego POV woooo

Guilt and worry had been eating Diego alive all week. Reginald was going to hurt Luther. He knew he was. He should have tried harder to get that idiot to listen. He should have dragged the guy out of The Academy. Instead he just stormed out and is sitting around waiting. Maybe he heard Reginald wrong. Maybe it will be fine.

He knew it wouldn’t.

He got the call at around 7 a.m. How Luther knew his new number, he had no idea. But he answered and Luther-

Luther was sobbing. He was nearly hyperventilating over the phone. Crying that he was a monster, that Dad hates him, that he should have listened to Diego. Diego desperately tries to calm Luther down. He eventually gets Luther to calm enough that he can tell Diego where he is. Diego tells him to stay there and rushes to his car and speeds out to pick him up. He finds Luther sitting on the side of the road next to a pay phone, head in his hands and looking massive. He holds off on commenting on his appearance and chooses to plop down next to him. Diego was never good at the whole ‘emotions’ thing and desperately tries to think of how he can help his brother. He tells Luther he can live with him, he can start a brand new life! Away from The Academy, away from Reginald, Luther can start to chase any dreams he has for his life. Luther just looks lost at the thought. “Who even am I without The Academy. I’m Number One. That’s all I am. I don’t know how to be anything else.” Diego looked at him sadly, “You aren’t ‘Number One’. You’re Luther Hargreeves, you just have to figure out who that is, but he’s someone. C’mon, you can live with me while you figure it out.”

Luther shook his head, “You don’t even like me. You all hate me. You all left me.”

“We don’t hate you, idiot.” he sighed and awkwardly said, “We love you, Luther. You gotta know that.”

He takes Luther back to his place. Luther is very underwhelmed at Diego’s new boiler room dwelling, much to Diego’s annoyance, but he still accepts Diego’s offer of sleeping on his couch and living here with him.

They talk and bond (with plenty of petty arguments along the way). Diego tells him about his troubles with his job and his relationship. Luther tells him about how he wants to start a life and get a job, but doesn’t know how to start. He has always loved learning about outer space and taking care of plants. Those had been his two hobbies in all his time alone. 

Diego decides to go out and get job applications for Luther to help him get started. Considering their questionable schooling, he figured rather than NASA, Luther could find a job at a tree nursery or flower shop. He goes around town collecting applications and when he returns home, Eudora is waiting for him. It turns out as Diego was out trying to get Luther a job, Luther was here trying to fix Diego’s love life. Luther had called Eudora and asked her to come to their place and to give the relationship another shot. She looked up as Diego entered and gave a sarcastic, “Nice cave, Batman.” 

They start to mend things between them and Diego moves back in with her, along with Luther who stays in a spare bedroom in her apartment. Luther lands a job at a quaint flower shop in town and things are finally starting to look good. Diego decides to start a self-defense class at the gym he used to live in. He loved helping people learn to defend themselves from harm and to feel safer. The classes grew so much that he eventually started teaching them on most evenings of the week. He was happy, had a job he loved and had the girl of his dreams. 

Chapter 4: Luther POV

Luther wasn’t great at talking to people. To be fair, he never really had to interact much with people outside of his family. So he might come across as awkward. Or socially inept. It didn’t help that he looked like a freak-

He shut down the thought. He carefully arranged the bouquet he was working on and placed it on display. Suddenly a familiar face came springing around the corner. 

“Dude! This looks awesome!” Owner Sam Katz announced in his frat-bro manner, “You always make the coolest bouquets, bro!”

Luther blushed. Sam always showers Luther in compliments and he never knows how to respond. 

“Dude! Your shirt looks dope as hell! Nice one!

“Bro you always look so freaking fit! You gotta show me your gym routine!”

“Man, your haircut is blowing my freaking mind right now! Amazing!”

Luther will always just blush and give a quiet, “thank you.” as he continued to tend to the flowers. Sam is always inviting him to go out to bars or go to a basketball game or go to the mall, but Luther always politely declines. Of course, he always wants to go. But he would make a fool out of himself  and he just couldn’t live with himself if he embarrassed himself in front of Sam.

Luther wakes up every morning and finds himself looking forward to getting up. He gets excited to go to work and see Sam. He finds himself dressing nicer than he usually does just so he can hear Sam proclaim, “Looking sharp, Luth!” as he walked in the door. 

He slowly starts to realize…maybe he likes Sam as a little More than a friend. Maybe he Like likes him. 

He doesn’t know what to do…Sam would never like him like that so he should just keep it to himself. Bury it deep. 

But he goes to work and Sam is telling him about how his brother Dave is an EMT and is hopelessly in love with a man he keeps having to rescue, but he’s too nervous to make a move. Sam says that he wishes- no, begs Dave to just tell the guy how he feels. And Luther is hit by a wave of courage with those words. He pours his heart out, telling Sam that he makes him feel good about himself in a way he can’t ever remember feeling before and that his favorite part of the day is seeing him and how he makes him happy and makes him laugh and-

Sam interrupts his profession with a kiss. A beautiful, sweet, tender kiss that quickly evolves into a fiery make-out. Luther feels passion and fire and love.

After that, they start dating. Sam brings him on a night out to a bar where he meets a group of Sam’s friends and his brother Dave. Luther takes Sam out another night to meet Diego and Patch and they all go to a carnival and it’s magical and he feels happy.

Sam invites Luther to Thanksgiving at the Katzes. Luther had never celebrated Thanksgiving before. He had never celebrated anything before. He frets and frets over making a pumpkin pie and making it perfect. It comes out looking a bit wonky, but still edible so it will have to do. Luther, Diego and Patch all saddle up to the Katzes where Sam answers the door with a smile. Luther meets Sam’s parents, who are kind and loving and nothing like Reginald, and Sam excitedly tells him that Dave had finally asked out the boy he was crushing on and they would be here any minute!

They are all helping finish up the last minute cooking in the kitchen when Dave arrives followed quickly by-

“Klaus?”

“Luther? Diego?! What the fu-”

Things get a bit chaotic after that. 

At the end of it all, Luther and Diego had become brothers again. They had regained love and regained purpose in their lives. They grew and realized the true meaning of family- helping each other through thick and thin. They extended a hand to Klaus and began growing closer to him once again. They then decided to see what Vanya was up to and started going to her shows. Luther would make her a personalized bouquet and she would smile. They would call Allison and congratulate her when she would land a big role. She started flying in on the holidays and they would all have a big family celebration. They all became a family again and all were finally happy.

[beblebumm]

lesbian mom

My sister told me I dress like a lesbian mom. With no offense meant towards lesbian mothers because as Chloe put it- if I was a lesbian mom, my style would be closer to cool. But because up to this point in life I have been straight and childless, I’m just an appropriator. Which I definitely don’t want to be by the way, but I'm an American and blind appropriation is the American way. Working on it. I’m in the kitchen in Cedar Falls finding all my last sporadic, traveled with items to shove in my XL backpack* by the time Chloe brings her new opinion up to her roommates, my family. “Cathy, don’t you think Maddie looks like a lesbian mom?” “a what? A lesbian? I didn’t hear you” ...and dad’s reaction: “oh.. did you get a surrogate then?” * (United and Frontier front like they will be strict about charging you based on the sizes of your luggage, but they won't be. Apparently my size of backpack does not count as a personal item (free) but instead a carry-on (not free). It's a glutinous excuse for a backpack. However, they don’t say shit to you when you show up on the day of your flight. In the words of my friend Grace: If it's on your back and not on wheels, you're fine. I have had to repack a backpack once, throwing on a sweatshirt and carrying socks in my hand to make it through. But you know what that was? Free.And Fyi- U.S. airlines alone made 5.1 billion bucks in extra baggage fees in 2018. Don't contribute to that mess.) * But anyways, to come to the defense of lesbian moms, I think I dress with the best intention. I don’t think I have bad taste, but I can have bad execution. It's not entirely my fault though, as I feel bigger boobs make a lot of outfits merge towards mother. Tops are always an issue because you have the possibility of looking tenty, and opposite that- the issue of looking too tucked in. It can make the attempted effortlessness come off as starchy. I also straddle this line of wannabe skater and NOT wannabe school teacher, meaning I would love to come across as someone who deserves to wear Vans and less like someone who is reading to your child over snack time. That one is harder to explain, but has a lot to do with stripes. I don't bother running all of this past her, but I told Chloe that if I was flat-chested she wouldn’t be saying this. She didn’t argue but offered to help pay for my reduction. My dad and I get in the car after I make an everything bagel with some onion flavored cream cheese. A Thomas brand bagel, of course. Because it’s the cushiest and you can find them everywhere. We love a processed carb. He drives me to the airport in his new-but-used Toyota Highlander, which doesn’t reek of cigs like his previous whip. He only likes this new car because it has a cassette player, but the low mileage is a plus. I just want to say that the Cedar Rapids airport is low entertainment. It’s a trade-off because you are through security in seconds, but you have to do things like chase after people to hand them their ID’s they left on the counter to help the employees out because we’re Iowa nice and when in the homeland you have to act right. And people wear really ugly printed leggings and foul footwear. Lots of camo and lots of Hawkeye logos, which I do not identify with despite it being my alma mater. I was caught in a very vulnerable spot with my thick and tall Doc Marten's, (not a good airport shoe but a good everyday shoe so what can you do) hunched over the ‘Get Your Shit Back Together Very Quickly Bench’ that comes after security, when I see this rushed looking, young nerd man in a long black trench coat. He LOUDLY and SO abruptly asks this similarly aged gal he was coming up behind whether her hair was red or blonde. She had long red hair with dyed blonde ends. She said “red?” and he says nothing but “HUMPH” without breaking speed at all. Why did he need to know that and also why could he not see that her hair was both colors? And if he cared so much to know, then why did he not respond? Did he think this was considered to be hitting on her?? Because practically yelling at her to inquire about her appearance is not cutting it. I wish for his sake I could at least call him a boomer but he didn't meet the age requirement. Whatever. She looked around for confirmation that what had just happened to her was so weird, which of course I gave to her by saying: “That was so weird.” The sole restaurant by the gates has Blue Moon so that’s redeeming. But it’s in a tin can which is not so good. I used to prefer a draft pour with an orange slice but I am partial to a cold bottle now, plain- no orange. It’s more consistent this way, as some places don’t clean their draft lines regularly and it shows. I met an icon on my flight today. I, of course, was assigned my usual middle seat as I am certain I paid the littlest amount of airfare out of everyone on the plane. Deals only. But as I step up to my row and make that apologetic eye contact with the dude who is about to have to move and let me assume my usual middle spot, the guy asks me if I want to switch spots with his son- WHO HAS AN AISLE SEAT. YEAH SIR, I DO. And this is how I was seated next to the only stranger I’ve had an extended conversation with on an airplane, ever. At least to the point where I was sure I wanted to be buddies with her. She was not stoked on the middle seat, but it’s the one she had in our row. The icon is named Erin and she said: “I’ve been ignoring people on planes for 20 years but you seem like an absolute riot.” I realized I also tend to spend a lot of time ignoring people on airplanes. I actually spend more time trying not to bother the people around me, aka holding urine in until I am nearly bursting because the awkward fumbling out of my usual middle seat is too much. I did, however, have slight banter with a guy sitting next to me on the way into Iowa from Denver on this same trip. All he wanted to say to me was that he had just been skiing in Vail or something. People love being able to say sentences like this, by the way. "Skiing in Vail". It's supposed to impress whoever they tell. Ok. But later on, he and I would exchange terrified eyes as we watched this awful moment unfold after an older fellow in the row across from us ignored all social rules and played his voicemails on full blast, speaker volume, for about 10 minutes. A young gentleman near us let him know that “We can all hear that!” which I would have never said but was also thinking. Obviously. The Voicemail Blarer says “Oh sorry” calmly but is very caught off guard. I thought- wow. That went well. But the Voicemail Blarer takes all of 30 seconds to stew before erupting. He belly yells that he is a “WAR VETERAN AND THAT IS WHY I CANNOT HEAR OUT OF THIS EAR WHICH IS WHY MY PHONE IS ON SPEAKER AND BY THE WAY IM ON THIS FLIGHT BECAUSE MY MOM JUST DIED AND I AM FLYING BACK TO IOWA FOR THE FUNERAL. PEOPLE LIKE YOU ARE AHHHHHHHHH KDFKSJDFLKJDFLJSDF”... I feel like the percentage of people flying to Iowa for funerals is probably a decent chunk. Either you're visiting your family or someone died. Just speculating. ANyways. The Mourning Vet Voicemail Blarer said some pretty harsh remarks towards the Complainer that I can’t remember because I was so nervous as a witness to this that my adrenaline was working overtime to suppress. I remember being proud of The Complainer as he kept very level and only said a couple words to defend himself followed by: “I’m sorry you’re going through that man but we don’t all need to hear your voicemails.” I see both sides of this interaction. On the younger Complainer dude’s side, it’s not socially courteous for the vet to be playing his voicemails out loud. Especially for ten minutes. I mean Larry David would have lost it. On the other hand, no one was insulting his status as a vet or poking fun at his late mother, but he has obviously been through more life and more challenges than I and plus he’s grieving. I don’t know. I didn’t mind the voicemails THAT much. Back to today- Erin is the second stranger I’ve met who inspired me this month. Technically this year, and technically this decade, too. Happy 2020. From what I saw, she’s a kick-ass, take no shit, lay it all on the table kind of individual. She had a natural openness about her and radiated warmness but is the type to probably gaurd herself just enough. The kind of person who you would hate to see sad. Born in cedar rapids, went to Iowa for Journalism, got her masters at Syracuse. Has lived all over- New York, London, LA (I think she said). Will not donate to her old sorority, Chi O, because she can’t affiliate with that anymore because it’s lame. But she’s loyal enough to one of her sorority besties to fly to Denver and sit with her while she undergoes a chemo treatment. She asks me about work and I say I have enough side hustles to equate to having a real job. She tells me I need a podcast and says I must have been told this before. I haven’t. But If I had one, I would have her guest star immedieately. She oozes content. Apparently, there’s such a thing as coaching people on how to talk on camera because this is her job. It can be split up into different categories based on the size of the screen. Phone, computer, TV, etc. She kept saying things about “inches”. I thought this was wildly specific, exactly the sort of job you wouldn’t think about until you thought about it. Niche. Hopefully future me is doing something niche right now. But only if I'm enjoying it. She also mentioned some clients she has that I should speak to so I can learn how to travel the world for free. I could have clung to her and never let go after she said this, as that would make my life and her encouragement inspired me. Before this though, we agree I need a credit card that rewards with airline miles instead of cashback. It’s third up on my “to-do now” list- which is different than my “to-do” list becasue that one is for things like making dentist appointments. For the things that should not be put off but can and will be. Until they can't. She asks what my sign is, which is Sagittarius. She said of course. She’s a Virgo. I have no clue what this means. People ask me this sort of thing a lot now though so I need to read up. This guy I met recently who works at Wax Trax Records told me not only extensively about my sign but about my rising moon and one other part of it that I can’t remember. Or is it your rising sign and moon sign as separates? Idk. He told me that every girl he knows has an ex-boyfriend who is a Pisces. True. Erin also told me she’s on some board in Iowa City that is currently discussing the ped mall. I had a lot to say about THAT, as I feel the ped mall has turned into wasted space other than maybe one and a half shops. She agrees. It’s not being utilized like it should be, we think. Too many frat bars. Apparently, her family owns the Bluebird cafes or used to, and I said "ooooooooh!" but that I could never get a seat in the Iowa City location because every hungover kid within a ten mile radius is trying to eat there every Saturday and Sunday morning. I also thought of the time they burned my friend Madison Wood’s toast and she sent it back. I didn’t tell her this though. I like Bluebird. And I hate when people at my table complain about the food. She tells me I'm too good to write for random freelances, which I have dipped my toes into doing. Pays like shit. I agree and listen to her tell me about someone she met when she was just one year sober (she is now ten years along) who pushed her to take charge of her own point of view. It sounded to me like she was inspired to trust and invest in herself. I liked that. As if I needed another excuse to stay out of corporate America. Right before she fell into meditation and soon to be sleep, Erin comments on my middle part and my “nice natural eyebrows” which is funny because I helped the brows out right before going through security. (By helped out, I mean makeup-ed. In the airport bathroom, too far away from the mirror, two different pencils- one chubby for careless shading and one skinnier to help the endpoints of my brow that is otherwise dead.) On the topic of my appearance, I tell her that my sister had just told me that I dress like a lesbian mother. She said she loves my sister.

[s0mebodyto-love]

finsta

a/n: I’m back with a Ben fic to output my emotions about real life things lmao so here you go!! My actual experience ends with the post, so I’m hoping something actually happens lmaoooo. Here’s college!Ben with some childhood friendship and some fluff thrown in too.

WC: 1750

Every Thursday night, the bar right across the street from the bus station hosts a karaoke night, and on many an occasion you find yourself there with your little crew. It’s you, your roommate, and some of the girls you sing with in an on-campus choir for non-music majors. The drinks are cheap and everyone goes to sing and have a good time right before the weekend hits.

The little Irish pub lowers its lights and the prices of drinks, and fills quickly. Bursts of cold air blow through the door as it opens and shuts, regulars going in and out to smoke and college students pouring in.

You and you friends swagger in, wrists donning loose orange paper bands showing that you’re the right age remain inside and order drinks. You get a beer, while the others in your group sip on vodka crans and ciders, and you all commandeer a table towards the raised dining area acting as the stage tonight.

At this specific location, karaoke can be anything. Throughout the night, you see people singing their hearts out to Disney, ABBA, and Fifth Harmony. Anything goes, and everyone is singing everything. It even comes down to a group of nearly thirty-somethings singing “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 29” that leaves you in stitches as you sing along.

However, the song you sing hits a little bit more towards home than you expected.

This week has already been a little bit rough. You’ve been on your period, and you reminded yourself of your on-again-off-again feelings for someone back at home… Ben Jones. You’ve known each other since the earlier days of schooling, back when you were 10 years old and him 11. Over the years, it snuck on you slowly just how much you liked him. Your families get along, and have known each other just as long as you two have.

You don’t talk a lot, and most of that has to do with the fact you go to different universities.

But whenever you’re both home, you find yourselves sitting at a high-top at the local coffee shop or shoved into a tiny booth at a local restaurant to sit, eat, and talk for three hours at a time, at the very least. There’s no one else you’ve ever been able to do anything like this with, and that’s made a large impact on your love life.

Any attempt at a date with anyone else is a comparison to Ben.

So this week, karaoke. Right.

You sang Maroon 5’s “Payphone”, rather poorly but you kicked major ass at the rap (which no one expected), and you got to sing it while an old flame from freshman year was in the room.

“Whatever happened,” you wonder, “to those plans we made for two? A load of bullcrap.”

~*~*~

The crowd tapers off from the pub around 1 AM, as a pair of girls sing Madonna’s “Like a Prayer” and as your crew decides to venture into the cold drizzle to get late-night pizza. At this point, you’re tipsy, two of your friends are drunk, and the last two of your friends are sober.

The pizza parlor is packed with college students leaving other bars in groups of 5-6 and pack into booths with the steam still rising from slices of pizza. Your crew stands in the front and orders, then moves into a similar booth and get to talking about anything and everything.

And you get to talking about Ben, after talking about a different date you went on that was okay but clearly was no comparison to the boy you know from home.

“He’s just… everything I guess? My person?” your rambling begins.

“I don’t know, he’s just always been one of my good friends, he knows my family, he’s known me forever… If I’m still attracted to him after all his bad hair phases, I think that means something?” You bring up pictures on your phone too, trying to make the point that one you two would be so good looking together, and two he’s just so attractive to you and you absolutely have to show that off to anyone who will listen.

“Like, see?” They do.

The conversation moves forward after that, but you’re stuck. As you always have been.

You’re quiet the rest of the night, your thoughts stuck throughout the car ride back to campus.

As soon as you and your roommate walk through the door to your apartment, you book it to your bathroom; no longer shared after one of your other roommates moved out at the end of last semester.

Drunk you pees, then sits on your phone for five minutes, typing away on a caption for the finsta post you know Ben will have access to, but unsure if he’d ever read it.

i know you can see this and i hope i’m making this obvious enough. because here is where im most open, and if i don’t get it out now im afraid i wont. liquid courage. its you. it has been you since i realized i cant spend three hours with anyone else in a starbucks and get away with it. no one compares to you, and no one will. and i get you probably don’t feel the same. but if i don’t say anything i know ill regret it. youre the person i see when im singing all these dumb fucking love songs, and im sorry. and here i am, i guess. im sorry. ignore this, or maybe tell me what you think. im sorry.

You smash period and enter repeatedly so the block of text isn’t the focus of the finsta feed, and post.

It’s like in “We Bought a Zoo”. Twenty seconds of courage, even if it’s the liquid kind.

~*~*~

The next day sees no response from Ben, and you’re not surprised. He’s not on social media often enough, let alone that he’d actually see your drunk post. But you let it be, because you’re almost afraid to know what his response is.

A week passes by, and still nothing. Your friends are wondering about it too, and you have no updates for them.

And you’re too afraid to text him.

Friday night sees you driving four hours home, and mid-drive it appears.

[@yourfinsta] @bennieandthejones has liked your photo

And then, a text.

I think we need to talk. When are you home again?

Your heart pounds, and before you can think about it, you call him.

Within one ring, he picks up.

“Hello?”

“I’m literally driving home right now. I have a busy day tomorrow, but I can squeeze you in at noon-ish. Lunch?” Your voice shakes a little, but then so does his.

“Um, yeah. Okay. Usual place?”

“Yeah, I think this calls for real food and ice cream.”

“Ok, I’ll see you then. And y/n?”

“Yeah?”

He pauses, hesitant and unsure of what he wants to say.

“Nevermind, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hangs up, and your heart starts pounding again. That night at home, your sleep is rough but you make it through.

~*~*~

At 12:03, you arrive at the local diner you and Ben frequent when you catch up. He’s already sitting in a booth, wearing a maroon sweater and dark wash jeans. You slide into the bench opposite him.

“Hey.” You greet him.

“Greet” he says in response. An inside joke, a good start you suppose.

“So… I guess I have some explaining to do?” you ask, and he nods.

“It’s just… I want you to know I don’t want to force you into any of this. I was drunk and when I’m drunk, a lot of my feelings come out whether or not they should. And that’s what happened that night. And you’re stuck in this because of that. I’ve had these feelings on and off for years, which is why I never really pursued it. But recently… I felt those feelings really strongly, especially after I ended up on a date and then I realized that all I really wanted was for it to be you, and not this random grad student I went out with.” You take a deep breath.

“Long story short, I think I’ve liked you longer than I actually know. And not telling you was kind of killing me. Please respond.”

Ben looks at you very seriously, closed fists pressed against his chin and elbows propped up on the table. He takes a minute to think, and the minute starts to feel closer to an hour. He starts speaking slowly.

“Did you know”, he questions, “that I started having feelings for you back in high school? You were dating that kid from the high school in the town over, and I remember feeling this immense jealousy because it should have been me. That never went away, and I remember you two breaking up because college was looming and I knew that starting something wasn’t a good idea. I was leaving too, how could I ask you to start something when I was about to leave? And then you ended up going to school far away and I couldn’t ask you to tie yourself to me when there’s so much to experience. I took what I could get, and that was this. For us. I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows furrow together.

“You have no reason to apologize here, you goof.” You look down at the table, skin flushing slightly. Ben makes his way from his side of the booth to yours and carefully puts one arm around your shoulder, while grasping at your hand with his open one.

“I’m apologizing for not doing this sooner,” he mumbles, gazing at your lips before looking back into your eyes. “Is this okay?”

You nod yes, and verbally confirm.

“I’m good, yeah.” You whisper, leaning in closer towards him. You two are still maintaining eye contact, and your heart is pounding.

He leans in quickly, pressing his lips against yours briefly before pulling away. His lips were softer than you expected, and they were sweet too.

“Still good?” he asks, arm still around you and with no apparent plans to move back to the other side of the booth.

“More than, yeah.” A small smile is on your face, cheeks flushed and slightly bashful. You’ve never been one for PDA, and this was more than enough for you.

“Good. Where does this put us then?”

“Together, I think.”

“I like the sound of that.”

[artificialqueens]

Happier (Shalaska) - Chachkee

A/N: Hello! Im another first time submitter here, and I got this idea after a friend told me to listen to Happier by Ed Sheeran. I couldn’t stop associating the song with Shalaska so I wrote this out. I’m not sure if it’s as good as all the other wonderful fics here but I tried, let me know what you think. Thank you! :)

“After all that money, can we get back together?”

It was nearly one in the morning when Sharon decided to go to the local cafe shop back in Pittsburgh. She’d been mulling over what had happened with Alaska in Houston two days before and she hadn’t gotten any sleep. Right after the gig, Sharon lost all self-control and tried to confess her feelings for Alaska. After what she said on stage which she tried to pass off as jokes, Sharon couldn’t take it anymore and needed Alaska to know she meant what she said. Alaska, knowing what Sharon was about to do, stopped Sharon before she could get a word out. “Don’t Sharon, your fiancé is here.” “But-“ “Sharon, please, if it was any other situation by all means go ahead but you are engaged to someone else. Think about what you really want before you get us both in trouble.” Sharon saw the desperate look in Alaska’s eyes in the split-second before she turned away and left Sharon alone in the dressing room. In the two days that followed, Sharon had been avoiding Carl the whole time, locking herself up in their guest room and simply thinking about what it would mean to be with Alaska again. They’ve both grown so much since they separated and she knew that things would definitely be different if they tried again. They were both older, wiser and most importantly, more sober than they were back then. They’ve gotten used to the fame and the fans. She knows getting back together will be difficult and she won’t have as much privacy as she has with Carl but lately she’s been thinking how it would be so worth it just to have Alaska wrapped around her arms again; to hold her close and have her whisper “I love you, Noodles” one more time. Sharon thought back to all the times she got to spend with Alaska after they finally mended their friendship. The beginning was hard for the both of them. As Sharon spun the coffee cup she held in her hand, waiting for it to cool down, she wondered if she’d have the same relationship that she had with Alaska now if they didn’t have to spend so much time together. She was grateful that they did so many shows with each other. It was during those times that they took the steps to get closer again. When Sharon finally felt comfortable enough in their friendship, she’d always bring Alaska up and make comments about their relationship. The fans loved it and it gave her a way to let out her feelings. She knew how easy it was to let people think she was only kidding. The thing is though, she had a feeling that Alaska knew they weren’t just jokes. Alaska never participated in it, choosing instead to laugh it off and talk about something else. To any other person it would seem that it was because Alaska was over it. But Sharon knew better, she saw the way Alaska pulled herself together before she spoke. No one else could see it, but Sharon could. She knew Alaska all too well, even after all the time they spent apart. Maybe it wasn’t too late for them. Sharon took a sip of her coffee, the bitterness reminded her of Carl. She knew what she had to do if she ever wanted to get Alaska back again but she feels so bad for stringing Carl along. They were engaged for crying out loud. What was she even thinking agreeing to marry him so fast? She was with Alaska longer than she’s been with Carl and already they were planning to get married? Sometimes her old habit of sabotaging herself just wouldn’t leave her alone. And it wasn’t even that she didn’t love Carl, she did, at some point she did. But there was his excessive drinking that fueled his anger issues and their constant arguing. The situation reminded her a lot of her and Alaska’s old relationship, but this time she didn’t want to get drunk and get high all the time. She told Carl as much but he never took her seriously and kept trying to sway her back. Then there’s the mess he keeps creating on social media. She thought it was justifiable at first because of all the people telling him to fuck off so the royal couple could reunite. She let him lash out at them even though she knew it wasn’t the best idea. But it just never stopped, anytime he saw someone on twitter disagree with him, he’d fire back not caring that those people were usually underage girls. Things only got worse when screenshots of him saying horrible things about Alaska got leaked. The fans were furious and so was Sharon which resulted to them not talking for two days. How could he say such terrible things to one of the most important people in Sharon’s life? Alaska didn’t even do anything to him. But guilt seeped in- she was with Carl, not Alaska. Maybe if she didn’t gush over Alaska so much, Carl wouldn’t need to be jealous. It was her fault, she told herself. Sharon didn’t want to lose Carl then, she didn’t want to be alone. She was heartbroken when Alaska left and instead of taking her share of responsibility, she ignored it and turned to her vices. Carl was there with her, he was there to make it easier for her. With Carl she didn’t have to deal with being compared to another queen and be bombarded with dumb questions like “who’s the better queen in the relationship?” With Carl she didn’t have to exert a lot of effort to be together, she could always have him with her whenever she wanted. Back when she was with Alaska, they hardly got to spend time with each other unless they were booked together at a gig. It also helped that Carl could do her special effects make-up and help her create her costumes. But Sharon wasn’t happy. And with that, Sharon realized that she’d been taking the easy way out. For years, she’d been repressing her feelings for Alaska, calling Lasky her best friend when really all she wanted was for her to be her girlfriend with a penis again. She was too scared to take a risk, too scared to handle difficult situations. Sharon decided she’d had enough of being scared. She was the goddamned queen of Halloween and she was in love with Alaska Thunderfuck- after all this time she was still the one. She was still her soulmate. Sharon hurriedly tried to finish her coffee, she wanted to get home and finally end things with Carl. He wouldn’t be happy and she knew he’d want to fight but she was so tired of living a lie and feeling like a fraud. She had to end things with Carl and try to make it work with Alaska. If nothing else, at least she can say she tried. Sharon was about to leave the cafe when the lines of a song caught her attention. “Ain’t nobody hurt you like I hurt you, but ain’t nobody need you like I do” This wasn’t normally the kind of song Sharon would listen to but she stayed in her seat, trying to understand the words. “I know that there’s others that deserve you, but my darling I am still in love with you.” Those words hit home with Sharon. A little dumbfounded, she sat back just taking in the rest of the song. When it finished, she took out her phone from her jeans’ pockets and looked it up. Happier, it was called. Without thinking twice, Sharon bought the song and listened to it on repeat the whole car ride home. ______________________________________________________________________ It was10 in the morning, Sharon was sitting on her rocking chair on the patio of her home. When Sharon got home earlier, Carl was waiting for her in the living room. After asking her where she’d been and why she’d been so distant, Sharon finally told him she wanted to break-up. Everything just came pouring out of her. Carl was furious but deep down he knew it was going to happen eventually. He knew Sharon’s jokes about Alaska always had something more beneath the surface. She was always bringing her up in conversations she wasn’t part of even when she wasn’t around. Somehow Sharon found a way to bring Alaska into things and their relationship apparently, was no exception. Carl didn’t see the need to fight for something he clearly couldn’t do anything about. He knew it was pointless to stay in a one-sided relationship, one where he’d always be on the losing end. So he packed his bags and left, but not without a few choice words for Sharon and Alaska, words that Sharon didn’t care to repeat. Sharon took out her phone again and texted Alaska S: i miss you Alaska didn’t reply immediately, she must be busy thought Sharon. She sat there waiting until three dots appeared on the screen. A: You have Carl. S: not anymore,,, A: what do you mean?? A: Sharon what did you do?? Sharon was typing as fast as she could. S: i broke up w him S: i couldnt do it anymore lasky,,, S: i cared about him but i care about someone else more S: can i see you? S: please? Sharon didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she saw Alaska typing again. A: oh A: I didn’t think you’d actually do it A: I’m in LA but you’re always welcome here noodles, you know that Sharon let out the breath she was holding, leaned back, and closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She was finally getting a chance to make things right. This time she wasn’t going to mess it up. Sharon sent a quick text to Alaska telling her she’ll be in LA by nightfall. She was about to go inside when she remembered the song from earlier. She went on her instagram where she already posted a photo of her and Alaska from the Houston gig, captioning it bf4ever, trying to be coy. This time she picked out an old photo of her and Alaska that she had saved because she didn’t want to let it go. It was the two of them out of drag with Sharon sleeping on a couch, her head on Alaska’s lap. Under the photo, she wrote “I know I was happier with you.”