#and forget all of july just for him to decide “yeah we *need* to forget him for the LORE of OUR NEXT SERVER”

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 39 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It's not hard for Bradley to convince you to buy a formal dress. He also easily gets you to stop referring to the house as only his. But his behavior after the three of you return from the lake house might not be something you're willing to deal with.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, spanking, pregnancy talk, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley had to laugh, because while the Christmas in July fake birthday party all weekend long had been great, he and Maverick were the ones stuck cleaning up the decorations. 

"They really left us here, huh?"

"Yeah, Mav," Bradley replied. "They really left us here to clean up while they took Noah out for breakfast." But he didn't mind. You told him it would give him a chance to talk to his dad's best friend for a few minutes. 

When Bradley started to disassemble the Christmas tree, Mav asked him, "Are you planning on going to Warlock's retirement thing?"

"Retirement thing?" Bradley asked.

"Yeah. The surprise party. I keep forgetting about it." When Bradley's brow scrunched in confusion, the other man waved his hand. "You'll get an invitation this week. Most of Top Gun is invited."

Bradley felt for a second like he'd finally reached the upper echelon of work related events, because if he did in fact manage to get an invitation to an Admiral's retirement party, it was going to be swanky. "Black tie?"

"Oh yeah," Mav replied as he packed up strand after strand of lights. "Just wear your dress whites."

But that wasn't what Bradley was concerned about. If you needed to wear a formal gown, then you'd need to use your princess credit card. And he didn't want you balking at the price of a dress. He wanted you to go out and find something you wanted to wear for the night, and he didn't want to argue with you about the money. He had plenty of it; that was the downside to losing your parents when you were young and inheriting both of their life insurance policies. 

"Yeah, I can just wear my dress whites," Bradley replied as he decided perhaps you'd respond better to picking out a dress if he promised to spank you afterwards.

Once Bradley shoved the Christmas tree back into the closet, he could hear you pull the Bronco back into the driveway. Maverick handed him a beer, and he was sipping it when you walked in and headed right for him. "Daddy," you whispered, kissing his cheek. Amelia walked in holding hands with Noah, and Penny brought up the rear.

"We brought you some muffins," Penny said, shaking a white bag at Bradley. 

"Thanks," he replied before leaning down closer to you. He could practically still feel the tug of your fingers in his hair as he made love to you last night, once again with his hand over your mouth. "I actually like it better when you make breakfast for us at home," he said softly, just for you. "Did you have a nice time?"

You just shrugged. "The food was good, but the coffee sucked. I miss the French vanilla coffee you bring home for me sometimes."

"In the special Princess cups?"

You practically moaned for him. "I love it when you stop and get me coffee. Do you have any idea how hard I was crushing on you when you would bring that home with you on days when I was babysitting Noah? Or when you started buying French vanilla creamer for your house for me?"

Bradley eyed everyone else out on the back deck while he took a sip of the beer he was still holding and wrapped his arm a little tighter around you. "Tell me, Princess. Remind me. How hard were you crushing on me?"

Your lips met his neck, and sure enough, your fingers went to his hair. He stood there feeling kind of smug as you kissed him and murmured, "Couldn't stop thinking about you. I was so jealous of every girl you went out with. I wanted you to touch me so badly."

Bradley backed you up against the wall and pressed his body to yours. "I knew from the beginning I was wasting my time with them when you were at home."

You let your head tip back against the wall, and he leaned down to kiss you. "Well I'm always at your house now." You hooked your fingers through his belt loops and grinned. "I can't wait to make myself a latte from your fancy coffee maker tomorrow before work. The coffee is better from your kitchen."

Bradley froze with his palm pressed to the wall next to your head and your pretty eyes on him. "Baby, it's our house now."

Your eyes fluttered closed as you whispered, "Our house," like it was your fairy tale castle instead of a Coronado bungalow. Like he really was your knight. 

"Hey," he rasped, waiting until your eyes were open again. He ran his fingers along your cheek. "I love you. So fucking much. But I won't spank you ever again if you call it my house. You understand?"

"Daddy," you gasped as he pulled himself away from you and finished his beer with a smirk. Your eyes narrowed, and he should have been alarmed by your smirk that matched his. "If you don't promise to spank me when we get home tonight, I'll paint your entire house beige. And I'll stop buying salad dressing. And I'll go down to the lake right now and catch a pet fish for Noah."

"Fuck," he gasped, actually feeling a little panicky before you and he burst into laughter together. "Damn, you're good. And you know I'll give you whatever you want. But you've got to give me what I want, too. Call it our house."

You pecked his cheek and said, "Let me start packing so we can leave for our house in a few hours."

"That's more like it," he replied as he went to join everyone else on the deck.

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

You offered to drive, but Bradley told you to relax instead. You and Noah both ended up yawning fifteen minutes into the ride back to San Diego, and then you were both falling asleep. While Noah actually needed the afternoon nap so he wasn't cranky later, you just wanted to enjoy the feel of the warm sunshine on your face and Bradley's hand in yours. 

You were using his address as your own for work, and all of your mail was being sent there. Your stuff was in virtually every room, but there were still times that it felt like his and Noah's space. The new bed helped you feel more comfortable, and obviously Bradley let you do whatever you wanted throughout the house. But he was right; it was time you started to take ownership. That was your bungalow now with the snag in the living room rug and the crack along the driveway just as much as it was his. You dozed off thinking about the internet tabs open on his phone as he rubbed your left ring finger. 

Once again, Bradley had to wake you up when you arrived. He kissed you softly until your eyes opened to the afternoon sun. "We're home," he whispered. 

"Our house," you mumbled as you sat up straight and stretched. 

"Our house," he echoed. And then your heart melted as he asked, "Do you want to take our son inside while I carry in all of our shit?"

You smiled and turned to see that Noah was just waking up as well. "Yeah, I'll take our son inside." It was the most natural thing you could have said as you pecked Bradley's lips and climbed out onto the driveway.

"Mommy," Noah whined as you unbuckled him. "I have to pee." 

"Keys!" you shouted to Bradley where he was already unloading the back of the Bronco, and he tossed them to you. As quickly as you could, you hauled Noah up to the front porch and got him into the bathroom without incident. "You feel better?" you asked, and he nodded at you.

"Yeah. Mostly because there were no bears at the lake."

You had to stifle your laughter. This child was the sweetest thing you'd ever encountered in your life. "Told you that Daddy wasn't lying about the bears. What was your favorite part of the weekend?" you asked as you helped him wash his hands. 

"The worms."

Once again, you wanted to laugh, because you didn't even need to leave the backyard to find worms, let alone drive hours away to an enormous lake. "Don't tell Daddy that," you mumbled as you walked out of the bathroom to see Bradley dumping bags and boxes in the hallway.

"I think we overpacked," he said as he headed outside for more. "If we go on another family vacation, I'm supervising the packing, because now I know you can't be trusted with it."

"When we go on another family vacation," you called after him. You rolled your eyes and headed to the kitchen to start making spaghetti for dinner. Then you grinned as you set Noah up with a coloring book at the table. You kissed his soft hair and said, "Don't forget to remind your dad that you still want a dog, okay?"

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

When Bradley took a minute to actually sort through the mail from Friday, he found the invitation to Admiral Bates' retirement party. A black tie formal at the San Diego Botanic Gardens. It was in less than two weeks, and his wife wanted it to be a surprise for him. Bradley would have to get his dress whites dry cleaned before then, but it would be harder to convince you to buy a gown. If you even wanted to go with him. 

At the moment, you were reading a bedtime story on Noah's floor and teaching him how to sound out the words. God, Bradley was fucking obsessed with how patient and sweet you were. Noah was snuggled up in your lap, looking at the book and saying the word castle when Bradley walked in. Wordlessly, he sat on the edge of Noah's bed and watched his son work through all the words on the page with your help. 

Maybe you'd get pregnant right away. Bradley didn't know if he'd be able to handle the excitement. He could spend a weekend getting the other bedroom set up as a nursery when it was time. When Meredith was pregnant, she only took him to one ultrasound appointment, but this time, if it happened, he'd beg you to let him go to all of them. Or as many as he could if he wasn't deployed. 

"Daddy?" you asked, handing Noah up to him. 

Bradley was shaken from his very pleasant thoughts by his son in his arms. He smiled and kissed Noah while he yawned before turning and getting him tucked in. "I still want a dog," Noah mumbled as he rolled onto his side, and Bradley shot you a dirty look. 

"What?" you asked innocently as you abruptly stood and headed for the door. You were off down the hallway, running to yours and his bedroom, but Bradley was right on your tail. 

He caught you in his arms as you laughed. "You know, all you've done since you got here is completely wreck our routine," he growled next to your ear as he held you tight. "You've literally destroyed our former way of life."

"What?" you gasped, trying to look up at him.

"You heard me," he whispered, kissing your hair. "You've got Noah reading books and eating homemade meals. You've turned me into a complete fucking mess with your glossy lips and your smile and your little dresses. And you have absolutely no regard for the fact that I get an erection whenever I smell wildflowers." 

You were all giggles now as he carried you to the bed. "It's your fault for being such a Daddy," you whispered with a grin. 

He set you down, and you lounged back against the pillows, your dress resting high on your thighs. Then he pulled the folded up invitation out of his back pocket and handed it to you as he climbed in bed too. "You wanna go with me?" he asked as you read it.

When your eyes darted up to meet his, you whispered, "I've never been to a black tie event before."

"Then you'll need a dress. Where's your phone?"

You bit your lip. "In the kitchen."

"Use mine," he replied, unlocking it and handing it to you with a new internet tab all ready for you to start shopping. "Order some dresses. And go to the mall after work one day this week if you want."

You took his phone but hesitantly said, "If I'm only going to wear it one time, I don't even know what to buy."

"Get whatever you want, Princess," he coaxed. "Maybe something purple?"

"Maybe..." you muttered as Bradley rolled you onto your belly in the middle of the bed. He watched over your shoulder as you started scrolling through some dresses, and he was practically salivating, because they would all look incredible on you. "Purple would be pretty."

"Mmhmm," he hummed, running his hands up the backs of your thighs and pushing your dress up around your waist. You glanced back at him as he carefully started to pull your underwear down. 

"What are you doing?" you asked with a little smirk as he inched your underwear down your legs and set them on the bed. 

He ran his big hands back up to your ass and bent to kiss you there. He could just see a glimpse of your pretty pussy as he kissed along the top of your thigh. "Exactly what you want me to do. But only if you order a dress." 

When you turned back to his phone, he ran his mustache along your perfect, soft skin. You were flawless, partly because of your age, but also because of how attractive you were. He was never going to tire of listening to your breath hitch when he touched you like his. He kneaded and palmed the globes of your ass, teasing down to your pussy with his thumbs until you whimpered. 

He tasted your skin everywhere, his tongue delving into your wetness as he pushed your legs further apart. You lifted yourself up onto your knees slightly, and he let you get away with it so he could taste more of you. But when you started to grind back against his face, he stilled you with his hands. 

"Did you pick out a dress yet?" he asked, licking the taste of your pussy from his mustache.

Your voice was quivering slightly. "I like this one, but it's expensive," you told him, holding up his phone. It was purple and two pieces with a fluffy Princess skirt. The top was covered in beads and would show off the tiniest bit of your waist all the way around. He was practically drooling just thinking about how much fun he'd have pushing all that fabric up to get to you. 

"Order it," he groaned before literally sinking his teeth into your ass and gently biting you so you squealed for him. "Order it right now, and I'll spank you and then fuck you."

"Okay," you moaned, and a minute later, you tossed his phone next to your underwear. "I ordered it." Bradley kissed you all over your ass before collecting you in his arms and draping you over his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

And just like last time, you loved it. He could tell. Every time his palm met your perfect body, you moaned his name and rubbed yourself against his thigh. Your skin felt warm as he soothed you and then spanked you again and again. "You're a good girl when you use the credit card," he crooned before dipping two fingers inside your pussy without warning. 

"Daddy!" you nearly shrieked, grinding back on his hand. He finger fucked you hard before withdrawing and then spanking you with his wet hand. The slapping noise and your reaction to him had him on the verge as he pulled you upright.

There were tears in your eyes and a soft smile on your face as you let him kiss your lips. He stroked his thumb along your cheek and whispered, "Get on your hands and knees."

You nodded and scrambled onto the bed, and he stood there and admired the sight before him. You were all round ass and soaking wet pussy as you pressed your cheek to the bedding and whined, "Bradley." He carefully unzipped his jeans, yanked them down, and thrust all the way inside you. The gentle hiss and soft groan as he filled you let him know you felt good. 

He let you have a few slow strokes before he grabbed you by the hips. Then he fucked you harder as you turned your head to bury your cries. A formal dress. A baby. A wife. He could think about little else besides you at the moment as he fucked you until he unloaded inside you with your name on his lips. 

Bradley knew he was a little rough as his hips continued to jerk, fucking his cum deeper. You lifted your face away from the bedding and started to crawl away from him, giving him a beautiful view of your pussy leaking his cum. 

"I'm sorry, Baby," he mumbled, shaking his head and climbing into the bed next to you. "I'm sorry I was a little rough." He was about to ask you if you wanted him to get you off with his mouth or his hands when you very gently reached for his face.

"I like it when you're rough," you whispered, voice full of emotion. "I like it when you're gentle with me, too. I love everything. I love living here with you in our house." You snuggled in closer to him and let your chin rest on his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too, Princess."

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

Getting back into your work routine was hard after taking a few days off and sleeping in with Bradley each morning. Dr. Kelly even joked that you looked too well rested. "How was the lake?" she asked, and you immediately thought about Bradley untying your bathing suit on the boat. 

"Great," you replied as casually as you could. "Noah had the best weekend. Once we convinced him there were no bears at Big Bear Lake."

Her eyes went wide as she reached for some latex gloves and followed you toward an exam room. "Could you imagine if he actually saw one?"

You shook your head immediately. "Don't even want to think about it."

As the afternoon wore on, you realized your butt was still sore, and you were hungry for ants on logs. And this was all because you were in love with being in love with the Bradshaw boys. When you took a short break and checked your phone, there was a text from Bradley.

Bradley Bradshaw: Hey, I'll be late today. Need to take care of some things at work. Can you pick Noah up?

You let him know you'd be happy to get Noah, and then you realized that maybe you'd get to see Casey, too. You were still giddy at the prospect of annoying her when you arrived at the daycare only to find Geena, the older teacher at the front desk. 

She greeted you warmly and then asked you for your ID. "I know that Casey probably knows you by now, and she's usually out here in the afternoons. But since she left a little early today, I'll just need to check your drivers license."

"No problem," you told her with a smile as you pulled it out of your wallet for her to inspect. She had you sign the sheet on the clipboard and then she vanished to get Noah. You wondered how late Bradley would be, but he never responded to your text when you asked him. Then Noah came running out, and you bent to scoop him up in your arms. 

"Mommy, we painted seashells today!" he gushed, holding up a ziplock bag with his name on it filled with colorful shells. 

"Noah! They're beautiful!" you told him as you waved goodbye to Geena and took him out to your car. "Do you want to turn them into a craft for Daddy when we get home?"

"Yeah!"

An hour later, you were still in your scrubs from work, making dinner while Noah glued some of the smaller shells onto a sheet of construction paper. You stopped what you were doing occasionally to help him arrange the shells to spell DADDY. "Looking good," you told him as he sounded out the letters. He loved reading, and you loved how excited he got. 

You kissed his forehead and then checked your phone as it vibrated on the counter. But when you saw it was your coworker trying to plan a happy hour, you set it down and sighed. You weren't sure if you should make a plate of food for Bradley or not. He'd probably be starving when he got home, so you decided to leave a serving out on the counter for him while you and Noah ate together. But you ended up just picking at your food. You hadn't heard from Bradley in hours. 

"Wanna get changed for bed?" you asked Noah after dinner. He went racing off to his bedroom and dug around in his drawer for his dinosaur pajamas. When he put the shirt on backwards, you helped him switch it around. 

"I want a snack," he told you just as you heard the front door open. Your heart leapt as you and he raced into the living room. Bradley looked exhausted in his rumpled uniform, and he was carrying a light blue box in one hand. 

"Hey, Bub," he said, kneeling so Noah could hug him. "You have a good day?"

"I made you a craft!"

Bradley looked up at you and smiled a little hesitantly. "Sorry I'm late," he mumbled as Noah yanked on his arm until he stood. He kissed your cheek as he was led into the kitchen, and Noah showed him the construction paper that was absolutely saturated with drying glue and seashells. "Wow! I love this! I think we need to let it dry overnight though."

"That's what Mommy said," Noah replied as Bradley set him down in one of the chairs. 

"What's in the box?" you asked. He opened it up to reveal a whole variety of pastries. Cookies, cupcakes, brownies and even a donut shaped like a crown. Now you felt bad for being a little annoyed with his lack of communication all afternoon and evening. 

Noah reached into the box, and Bradley snatched up the donut before he could get to it. "This one's yours."

"Thanks," you whispered before biting into it. The outside melted in your mouth, and the inside was filled with rich cream. It was delicious. Bradley leaned down to lick the corner of your mouth, and you felt your cheeks grow warm.

But once Noah was asleep, Bradley took a quick shower alone and collapsed into bed. "I'm fucking beat today," he said with an enormous yawn. "You ready for bed?" 

"Yeah," you agreed as he pulled the blanket over himself, and after you took a long shower he was already asleep. So you just snuggled in next to him, and eventually you fell asleep, too. 

The following morning, Bradley was still sound asleep when your alarm went off, something that never happened. "Daddy," you whispered, shaking him and kissing his cheek. "Wake up." He just grunted at you and rolled over. "Seriously?" you muttered, rolling out of bed since you could hear Noah in the bathroom. You changed into clean scrubs and skipped makeup since Noah was bugging for breakfast as soon as he saw you.

"Eggs or cereal?" you asked him once you had him dressed for the day. 

"Cereal," he replied. "And can I have another cookie? From the blue box?"

"We'll see," you said, setting him up with breakfast and then going back to find Bradley half dressed in his flight suit and messing with his phone. "You're up."

His eyes met yours, and he tucked his phone in his pocket. "Yeah. Sorry, I don't know why I was so tired. Can you drop Noah off so I'm not late?"

You nodded, and he cupped your cheek in his big hand. "Thanks, Princess." Then he grabbed the travel mug of coffee you made for him and took a protein bar and a cookie. With a quick kiss to Noah's head, he was out the front door. 

"Daddy had a cookie," Noah whined. "I want one, too."

You realized there was no point in arguing with him if Bradley was the one setting a bad example, so you carried the pastry box over to the table. You noticed it was from Sweet Dreams Bakery which was all the way across the city. Noah managed to snag two cookies as you stood there with the box open in a daze. Why was Bradley on the other side of San Diego yesterday? It was mostly residential over there.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath. You'd be late if you didn't get Noah in the car in the next few minutes. You quickly made yourself lunch and grabbed everything he would need before hauling him out to the car. You gently swiped cookie crumbs from his face and clothes as you buckled him in. "I'll drop you off quickly, and then Daddy will pick you up later, okay?"

Noah just nodded as he smiled. He would probably be on a sugar high within the hour, but at least he would be someone else's problem to deal with then. And you quickly learned that he would be Casey's problem to deal with when you took him inside and realized that you looked like a nightmare compared to her today. She was wearing an outfit so cute, you kind of wished you had one just like it. And she smiled maliciously at you.

"Good morning, Noah," she said sweetly as she practically tossed the clipboard in your direction. She walked him into the classroom as you signed your name and put the date and time. 

"Thanks," you mumbled, handing the clipboard back to her when she reappeared. 

"You know, I'm a little surprised it's you dropping him off today instead of Bradley. I mean, Lieutenant Bradshaw." She looked so smug you wanted to scream and smear her perfect makeup. 

But you stood there and calmly said, "We've already been over this. I'll be dropping Noah off and picking him up as well now. Indefinitely."

"Okay," she replied, barely paying any attention to you as she opened up a light blue pastry box identical to the one in your kitchen. "You keep telling yourself that."

You swallowed hard and looked between her face and the box one more time before you turned on your heel and rushed back out to your car.

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

What's up, Daddy? And why? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 40

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[asacredthebread]

cover by @no-other-mashter

A Cabin In The Woods - Ch3

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Sam x F!Reader

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚢?

Warnings/ Themes: Nice Sam, still only one bed, tying up his hair, reminiscing, implied boner, cliffhanger.

an: I can only apologise for the cliffhanger, I didn’t want this chapter to be too long! If you want to be added to a tag list specifically for this series, please feel free to DM me!

wc; 13.2k

taglist - @musicislove3389 @peaceloveunitygvf @jazzyfigz @sarahbethgvf @fleetingjake @dannys-dream

As the two of you settled into the game of twenty questions, the atmosphere lightened with each exchange, and it felt like a playful dance around unearthing cherished memories. You began with an easy question about favorite childhood toys, and the conversation effortlessly flowed, delving deeper and bringing laughter that echoed off the cabin walls.

When it was his turn to ask, he decided to steer it into the realm of nostalgia, “What’s your favorite memory of us when we were kids?”

You grinned, a mischievous glint shining in your eyes. “Oh, I’ve got one for you. Remember that time you tried to impress me by climbing that tree in the park?”

He couldn’t hold back a laugh as you recalled the moment vividly. It had been a glorious afternoon, filled with sunshine and laughter, the scent of summer in the air. Sam, ever the daredevil, had attempted to climb higher than any kid had a right to. “How could I forget? I was so sure that I would be able to reach the top.”

“Yeah, and then you got stuck halfway up,” you replied, chuckling. “You thought you’d look cool, but instead, you were just hanging out there, calling for Jake like he was going to be your knight in shining armor.”

Heleaned back against the couch, shaking his head and grinning. “And who came to the rescue? Not Jake, that’s for sure. It was you, running over all in a panic.”

“Oh, yeah! I was a lifesaver,” you agreed, laughter dancing in your eyes. “I remember you were gripping that branch for dear life, trying to look casual, all the while internally freaking out while yelling for Jake to come help you.”

In your mind’s eye, you could picture the young Sam, arms splayed out in a desperate attempt at coolness, his cheeks flushed as the laughter bubbled in your chest. “You were so determined to impress me, and instead, you ended up looking like a raccoon caught in a tree.”

“Hey!” He feigned offense but couldn’t hold back the laughter. “And don’t forget how we both ended up with skinned knees after you helped me down.”

“Oh my god, yes! I forgot about that.” The joy of the memory washed over you as you recalled the tumble down, landing in the grass with a thud, both of you laughing despite the little scrapes. “But it was so worth it. We were laughing so hard, even with the bruises.”

“The best kind of adventure,” he added, and there was a softness in his gaze, a warmth that seemed to wrap around both of you as you relived that moment.

As the laughter died down, it was Sam’s turn to offer up a memory of his own. “Okay, my turn.. I think my favorite would have to be one of the early Fourth of July trips - the one where we went rafting?”

You tilted your head, encouraging him to share his own treasured remembrances. “Oh my God, yeah I remember that one!”

“Oh man, that was epic,” he said, a wide smile spreading across his face. “I can still see Josh getting tipped over into the water. It was classic.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him at the memory. “And you were so sure you were going to fall in next!”

“Yeah, I dove straight for the oars just in case the worst happened.” Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “But what really cracked me up was Josh climbing back onto the raft, drenched and cranky about his hair. You remember how he kept complaining about how he needed to fix it?”

“I do! He spent half that trip trying to wring it out! He was such a drama queen about it,” you replied, grinning as you recalled the exaggerated gestures he had made.

“Classic Josh,” Sam laughed. “And I just kept paddling like a maniac, trying to avoid any ‘splash zones.’ It felt like a scene from a comedy movie.”

“It really was,” you agreed, feeling the warmth of the day wash over you again. “Those trips were the best. I can’t believe how much time we spent doing things like that.”

The nostalgia hung in the air, sweet and warm, anchoring both of you in those carefree days of youth. As you shared stories back and forth, delving into memories framed by laughter and adventure, the cabin felt less like a prison and more like a cozy sanctuary filled with the echoes of your shared history.

“Okay, my turn,” you said, still glowing from the laughter. “What’s your favorite dessert from back then?”

Sam’s face lit up, and you felt another ripple of excitement as the game continued, revealing stories that brought you closer. In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of fond memories, it occurred to you how the silly game and shared laughter were weaving together a tapestry of connection that neither of you had anticipated—but might just make your time stuck here a little brighter.

As the laughter began to fade, you and Sam settled deeper into your respective couches, the novelty of the game giving way to a more comfortable rhythm of conversation. The initial awkwardness had started to dissipate, replaced by the familiar ease that you both shared. Sam's light teasing and your playful banter wove a tapestry of warmth that transformed the secluded cabin into a safe haven, despite the situations outside.

You glanced up at the clock on the wall, the hands inching closer to the midday mark. Realizing that you hadn’t eaten yet and that it was about time to make lunch, you pushed yourself off the couch, stretching your arms overhead. “Okay, I think it’s time for me to whip something up for lunch,” you said, glancing over at him.

“Wait,” Sam interjected, his demeanor still slightly cool but beginning to warm, a hint of something softer flickering in his eyes. “I’ll make it. You made breakfast, after all.”

You paused, surprised by the offer. “Really? You don’t have to—”

“I want to. Just sit and relax for a minute.” With that, he started to rise, but then he suddenly reached for his hair, quickly pulling it back into a ponytail.

The attempt was ambitious at best. A few rogue strands stubbornly escaped the hold, sticking out in every direction, amassing around his face like a wild halo. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, the sight of him looking half-determined and completely disheveled striking you as humorous. “Oh my god, Sam! You look like a tornado hit your head!”

“Shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes, but even he couldn’t suppress a smile. “It’s functional enough, okay?”

“Functional, but definitely not cute,” you teased, your laughter still bubbling. “Here, come sit by me.” You beckoned for him to come closer, inviting him into the space between your knees with an open smile.

He hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as he assessed the offer, but something in your voice, the playful tone, softened him. With a begrudging sigh, he relented and moved closer, settling cross-legged on the floor between your knees, facing away from you.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to get too comfortable,” he muttered, though there was a playful undertone in his voice.

As he sat, you felt a swell of affection course through you. There was something intimate about this position, this shared space. It felt like stepping into the past, a return to the uncomplicated moments of carefree childhood—an era when everything was innocent and the connection was effortlessly simple.

“You know,” you said softly, your fingers itching to reach out, “if you’re going to sit there with that mess of hair, I might have to intervene.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, feigning innocence, but you could see the way his shoulders tensed as he anticipated your next move.

With a teasing smile, you reached forward and gently pulled the hair tie out of his hair. “We can’t have you looking like this while making lunch,” you said playfully, as your fingers began to rake through his hair, seeking to smooth out the knots and tangles.

He made a subtle sound of protest, but the tension in his shoulders eased as you worked your fingers through the mess he’d created. “Careful with the hair! It’s valuable,” he quipped, his tone a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

“Valuable, huh?” you teased, gently tugging at the strands as you brought them back to their natural state. “This could probably double as a cleaning tool given how crazy it gets sometimes.”

“Just wait until I find a mirror and fix this,” he smirked, shooting a glance back at you, though a small laugh escaped him, betraying his good-natured spirit.

You focused on the task at hand, fingers deftly separating the tangled strands. The warmth of his body so close to yours brought a comforting glow, a friendly intimacy that you hadn’t expected to feel today. Your fingers danced gently through the hair, smoothing it out, inadvertently creating a soothing rhythm that resonated between you.

As you worked, the cabin filled with an easy camaraderie, and for a few moments, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this shared bubble of connection. You could feel the subtle shift in Sam, the way his initial tenseness began to ebb away, as if he were letting go of burdens that weighed on his shoulders.

And while you were lost in this simple act—calming the chaos that had formed on top of his head—there was an undercurrent of vulnerability in the air. Despite all the unspoken things lingering between you, this moment felt like a quiet declaration of friendship, a gentle reminder that trust and comfort could blossom even in unexpected situations.

As you carefully worked through the tangles in Sam's hair, you focused intently on the task at hand, relishing the way your fingers glided through the strands. Each gentle tug was deliberate, a conscious decision to avoid pulling too hard. You noticed that Sam had relaxed further beneath your touch, his body unwinding into a comfortable posture, and there was a softness in his demeanor that hadn’t been there before. It was as if the chaotic morning had dissipated, replaced by this unanticipated calm.

His hair was surprisingly soft, the strands silky and warm as they slipped between your fingers. The slight sway of his head every now and then suggested he was leaning into the moment, a rare vulnerability that he rarely allowed himself to show. You imagined that for him, this was a secret indulgence, perhaps a moment stolen from the rigid boundaries he often constructed around himself. You’d seen glimpses of it last night—the unguarded laughter, the shared stories—but now you were starting to feel the layers he was shedding while you cared for him.

As you gathered his hair into a proper ponytail, you recalled how different things had been just a few hours ago. This morning, he had woken up guarded and closed off, almost like a statue encased in frost. The harsh words exchanged between you last night lingered on the edge of your mind, still fresh and sharp enough to draw blood if you focused too hard. But as you bound his hair together, you couldn’t help but feel the change in the air, like a tide turning.

This morning, Sam had snapped at you, his cool demeanor piercing through the sleepy haze you both had woken up in. But now, under your gentle ministrations, he was starting to melt. You felt your heart flutter with the realization that he was perhaps beginning to warm up to you again, that maybe he yearned for change just as much as you did.

You tied the hair securely with a hair tie, making sure it was both neat and comfortable. “There we go,” you murmured, admiring your work. “Much better.”

The moment you stepped back, Sam turned his head slightly to glance at you, his expression a blend of surprise and appreciation. “Wow, you’re like a hair magician or something.”

“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,” you replied with a grin, feeling both playful and warm inside. With your fingers still tinged with the softness of his hair, you settled back into your position, observing him closely.

His smile was genuine—there was no faking it. You took a moment to appreciate how different it felt to see him relaxed, the tension he usually carried serving as a reminder of all the unkind barriers he placed around himself. In those moments, you could allow yourself to hope that perhaps he was letting you in again.

“Last night was intense, huh?” you ventured, looking for a way to bridge the developments.

He nodded, running a hand through the newly tied ponytail absentmindedly before letting it fall over his shoulder. “Yeah, you could say that.” His voice was contemplative, and the way he paused suggested more was lingering beneath the surface.

“That’s an understatement,” you said lightly, trying to ease the heaviness of the moment. “I didn’t think you’d turn into a drama king overnight.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rich, diffusing the air around you. “I might argue that title belongs to you, given the way you threw your hands in the air.”

“Touché,” you replied. “But I’d like to think my drama comes with style. Yours, however… well, let's just say it lacked finesse.”

He humorously rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know, I was completely justified.”

The easy banter settled into a comfortable rhythm, and as you exchanged witty remarks, you wondered if this was a fleeting moment or the beginning of something more promising between you.

As he leaned back slightly, resting his shoulders against your legs, you felt the shift in the atmosphere. His actions spoke volumes; he was inviting you into his space, allowing yourself to push through the walls he had built. And it struck you—had his actions this morning been a true look into how he was feeling about it all, or had he simply been terrified of what could change?

“What do you think we were fighting about really, all these years?” you asked, your curiosity bubbling to the surface. “I mean, was it really just about me breaking up with Danny?”

He sighed softly, his gaze directed at the floor. “Honestly? I think it was more about everything else—the things left unsaid, you know?”

You nodded, your heart racing as you recognized the truth in his words. “Like what?” you pressed gently, prepared for this opening. “What’s really bothering you?”

He hesitated, momentarily lost in thought, and you could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes. The warmth and comfort you had shared seemed fragile, but the opportunity was there, tantalizingly close. You could sense that your question had opened a doorway to a deeper conversation.

“I guess… I don’t want to mess up again.” He admitted slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “After everything that happened, it’s hard to not want to protect myself.”

“Protect yourself from what?” you asked, leaning a little closer, wanting nothing more than to understand him more fully.

“From feeling that heavy attachment again,” he said, his voice lower still. “You know? It’s like… I can’t decide if fighting and pushing you away is worse than letting you in.”

His honesty washed over you, a mix of vulnerability and strength that left you momentarily awed. And in that moment, you felt the sincerity of your connection, how deep it ran despite everything that had happened. You realized that in those shared moments, there was a potential for healing, an opportunity to rewrite your narrative together, to guide him through the delicate landscape of re-establishing trust.

“Sam,” you said softly, letting your voice steady. “We’ve both messed up before.”

“I know. But I hate feeling this way. It’s like I’m stuck.” His tone was heavy, but the tension was lightened by the way he leaned back further, comforted by your presence.

“Are you scared?” you ventured, wanting to keep the conversation open, to keep peeling back the layers.

“Yeah,” he said, his admission almost swallowed by the space around you. “Scared of getting too close, scared of it ending poorly again.”

You took a deep breath, considering your next words carefully. The last thing you wanted was to push him into a corner, but the truth bubbled beneath the surface. “But isn’t it worth the risk?”

He turned slightly, meeting your gaze. “Sometimes I wonder. But then I look at you and think…maybe you’re worth the risk.”

His admission sent a rush of warmth through you, the weight of your earlier tension lifting as hope began to bloom in the pit of your stomach. You realized then how deeply you cared for him, just as he cared for you, despite the mistakes and misunderstandings.

“I want to be close to you, Sam,” you confessed, your voice steady. “But I also need you to meet me halfway.”

“I can try,” he replied, his voice becoming more certain, the warmth radiating off him growing brighter.

With renewed determination, you decided to keep the conversation flowing. “So, what if we agree to be honest with each other, no matter how hard it feels? I don’t want to fight anymore. I want us to find a way to navigate all this together.”

He nodded thoughtfully, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “That sounds good. And, um, thanks for doing my hair.”

A teasing smile crept onto your face. “You’re welcome. But I’m still claiming my title as the hair magician.”

Sam chuckled again, and it felt like a refreshing wind sweeping through the room. You realized that those moments of laughter became the threads binding you closer, the small fumbles and fleeting moments leading to something solid and real.

As the sun shifted position in the sky, casting warm rays that filtered through the window, Sam finally broke the comfortable camaraderie you two had built over the last hour. He stretched lightly, the motion causing his muscles to ripple slightly beneath his shirt, before pushing himself up from the couch.

“Okay,” he said, patting his knees. “I think it’s time to make us some lunch.”

You laughed, the sound light and carefree, enjoying the rhythm of the moment. “You’re not a magician in the kitchen too, are you?”

He shot a cheeky grin over his shoulder as he walked toward the small kitchenette. “Magic does not extend to the culinary arts. You’re gonna have to lower those expectations.”

You settled back in your spot, momentarily enjoying the view as he rummaged through the cabinets. A comfortable silence enveloped you, only punctuated by the rustling of bags and the clinking of pots. But, as you watched him prepare the food, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still wrestling with the lingering shadows of your past.

Just as he started to pull out ingredients for sandwiches, he glanced back at you. Pausing for a moment, he finally began to speak again, sentiment spilling forth like the ingredients he was arranging. “You know, when you were dating Danny, I was… jealous.”

The word hung between you, heavy yet almost relieving, like the steeping aroma of something familiar wafting through the air. “Jealous?” you repeated, surprised by the unexpected turn in conversation.

He nodded, his expression growing serious, the laughter of moments before evaporating. “Yeah. Jealous because it felt like he took you away from me. From us. And jealous of him too, for having you in a way that I never could.”

Your heart sank a little at his confession. It was like unearthing a hidden scar you never knew had festered beneath the surface. You had never wanted to take anything from him—not in any measure that would lead to hurt—and it pained you that your relationship with Danny had driven this wedge.

“When you broke up,” Sam continued, his eyes focused on the counter as if searching for answers in the disarray of ingredients, “I took it as a good excuse to put distance between us, hoping it would lessen how attached I felt to you.”

As he spoke, you felt a knot form in your chest, realizing this post-breakup handling of emotions hadn’t been easy for him. You wanted to reach out to him, to offer comfort or understanding, but you stayed where you were, focusing on his every word.

“I thought if I pulled away, maybe those feelings would fade,” he admitted, turning to face you fully now, vulnerability etched into his features. “I honestly hoped that the breakup would lead you to...leave the group or at least distance yourself. I thought that would give me some peace and help me forget.”

Silence lingered between you as his confession sank in. The tension that had previously hovered in the air twisted, reshaping itself into raw honesty, echoing with the weight of unresolved emotions.

When you finally found your voice, you said, “But… I didn’t want that. I thought we could all still be friends, especially after everything we all shared.”

He nodded slowly, a faint frown creasing his brow. “I know. But then you didn’t leave. Instead, you became even closer to everyone else. And that just… it hurt. I guess I was really good at putting on a cold shoulder, and it felt easier, less messy.”

You could feel the ache in his voice, the weight of what he had carried alone. “But you didn’t have to push me away,” you said gently, your heart aching for the distance he had imposed on himself. “I was always here, Sam. You just… made it hard for me to reach you.”

He looked at you, the flicker of confusion mixed with longing in his eyes. “I was afraid,” he admitted, his gaze softening. “Afraid of what might happen if all those feelings bubbled to the surface again. And I didn’t want to lose you completely if it came down to that.”

Your heart raced. Each word he offered peeled back another layer of the complexity of your relationship, an intricate web of desires and regrets tangled together. Realizing the depth of his feelings was overwhelming yet brought forth a realization of your own.

“That night,” you started, recalling the echoes of a disastrous argument that had happened the night that you and Danny had broken up, “that wasn’t just a fight about you defending him, was it? We were both dancing around the things we didn’t want to face.”

Sam sighed as he began assembling sandwiches. “Exactly. It was easier to argue about little things instead of the real issues between us. You know, the ones that just seem to sit there, getting heavier every time we ignore them.”

There was an earnestness in his voice that made you feel both grounded and exposed. “So what do we do now?” you asked quietly, wanting to navigate this emotional territory cautiously yet deliberately.

He paused, his hands stilled briefly over the sandwich he was preparing. “I think we start by being honest with each other, like we just did. And maybe—”

“Maybe?” you prompted gently, your hopes beginning to rise.

“Maybe I let the walls come down a little,” he said, finally looking up to meet your gaze. “I can’t promise it will be easy, but I want to try.”

A soft smile spread across your face. “That sounds like a good plan. I want to try too.”

For a moment, there was a quiet understanding, an acknowledgement of the journey you were about to embark on together. It wouldn’t be simple, but there was a sense of hope threading its way through the cracks of uncertainty, daring to breathe life back into a friendship that had been battered but not broken.

Once the sandwiches were prepared, Sam turned back to you, setting the plate down with a flourish that broke the tension that had built in the room. “Ta-da! Lunch is served.”

You laughed, the sound echoing in the small space as it filled the air—light and freeing, a shared warmth that began to solidify the fragile connection you both had rediscovered. “You might not be a magician in the kitchen, but this looks pretty good,” you replied, reaching for a sandwich.

As you took your first bite, the taste of fresh ingredients mixing with the warmth of the moment felt like a small victory. With every bite, it felt like you were breaking bread with the chance of a new beginning. The remnants of jealousy and distance were still there, but now they seemed manageable, recognizable. The beauty of reconnecting was not lost on either of you.

Over lunch, you let the conversation flow, mixing lighthearted banter with deeper reflections. You laughed about memories of shared failures in the kitchen, reminisced over particular moments of friendship, and slowly unraveled the need for vulnerability in learning about each other’s fears, insecurities, and desires again.

In this newfound space sparked by honesty, an invisible thread began to weave its way back between you, one that spanned the depth of both understanding and affection. You realized that both of you had wanted to protect your hearts, but somewhere in the tangle of it all, you had lost sight of what had made your friendship so special in the first place.

And as laughter echoed against the walls, mingling with the aroma of lunch, you began to see that the journey you shared wouldn’t be marked by moments of jealousy or fear anymore, but by a continuing commitment to face everything together, step by careful step. The lunch transformed into something far more important—a chance for reconnection, cautious yet filled with promise, a shared meal that symbolized the beginnings of healing and understanding between two people who had once been adversaries in their own hearts.

As the afternoon sunlight began to wane, casting a golden light across the cozy cabin, you and Sam settled back onto the couch, the remnants of your shared lunch cleared away. The warmth that had begun to grow in the room was palpable, not just from the freshly constructed sandwiches but from the renewed connection between the two of you. Conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and the gentle rhythm of vulnerability being woven back into your lives.

Seated close together, you felt the comforting warmth of his presence beside you, the tension of the morning a distant echo. You glanced out the window, watching the sun sink lower on the horizon, streaks of orange and pink spilling through the trees. It was a beautiful sight, the world outside igniting with color, and for a moment, everything felt right.

But as the afternoon drew on, you could sense the shift in the air, the faint chill creeping back in. Sam seemed to notice it as well, for he shifted slightly, glancing toward the fireplace where the logs lay dwindling and half-burnt. Finally, he sighed and stood up, allowing the blanket he had draped on his lap to slide off slightly.

“We’re going to need more logs for the fire soon,” he announced, his tone steady, yet with a hint of urgency. “There’s only a few left and it’ll be getting chilly in here.”

You nodded, realizing he was right. The cozy heat surrounding you would soon dissipate if you didn’t take care of it. Sam made his way across the room to the door with a determined stride, but just as he reached out for the handle, he paused mid-motion. A laugh bubbled up from somewhere within him, catching you off guard.

“Hold on” he chuckled, turning his head back to you, mirth dancing in his eyes. “The log. Door’s blocked.”

You felt a genuine laughter escape your lips, the memory of that chaotic tumble bringing back the echoes of last night. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take you to realize!” you replied, enjoying the shared amusement that lit the atmosphere.

He huffed in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Of course, you would let me stumble around like an idiot.” But the smile that followed suggested he was teasing more than he was genuinely frustrated.

“Oh come on, it was kind of funny!” you shot back, letting the laughter linger. “Watching you move like you were on a mission while all that time there was just a need for a little creativity to get past that log.”

“Creativity,” he echoed with a grin, shaking his head as if dismissing the idea. “I’ll show you ‘creativity’ by throwing the darn thing out of the way next time.” He paused again but relished the shared chuckling.

With a subtle change in energy, Sam sauntered back over to the couch, fully retreating from his stint at the door. “Actually, I think I’ll just grab a blanket instead,” he said conspicuously, a hint of levity to his tone.

You leaned back into the warm cushions, content to let the moment linger a little longer. “A smart plan. Why battle logs when you can pull a cozy blanket around us, right?”

With a swift movement, he reached for a blanket draped over the back of the couch. It was thick and fluffy, perfect for wrapping up against the encroaching cold. Sam flung the soft, textured piece over the two of you before settling back down beside you, the familiarity of his warmth returning immediately.

“See?” he said, wrapping the blanket snugly around both of you. “Now we’re prepared for anything.”

You nestled close to him, sinking into the palatial fabric as a sense of comfort enveloped you both. “Much better. I always knew you were resourceful—just needed a little nudge to realize the simpler solutions,” you teased gently, your head leaning against his shoulder.

He gave a modest shrug, feigning a lack of interest in your compliment. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Well, you do have your moments,” you replied, your voice playful yet sincere. “But seriously, it’s nice to have this time together.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice softening as he gazed into the flickering flames. “I’m really glad we’re talking again. It feels… right.”

You paused in contentment, feeling the warmth radiate not just from the flames but also from the bond you were rebuilding together. “It does,” you affirmed, and silence settled between you, a warm cocoon in which to process everything you had shared.

You both leaned into the embrace of the moment, wrapped in the blanket and in each other’s company, the fire crackling gently in the background. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the serene heartbeat of the cabin and the tenuous peace of two souls opening up to one another again.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you turned your head slightly to face him. “You know, I actually like how things are changing between us,” you ventured, wanting to underline the significance of this moment. “It feels like we’re finally being honest about everything.”

Sam nodded, his expression pensive. “Yeah. There was so much holding us back before. I think I was just scared of taking that first step again. But now… it feels different.”

“I was scared too,” you revealed softly, feeling emboldened by his admission. “I didn’t want to lose you either—this deeper friendship, or whatever it is we’re building. I kept waiting for you to pull away, and I hated it.”

A shadow flashed across his face, a hint of regret that met your gaze. “Yeah, and I guess I clung to that cold shoulder because I thought it would protect me. But here we are, wrapped up against the world.”

You felt the heat of connection burn brighter between you. “I think we can face anything together,” you said, your voice steady.

He turned to you, his eyes glinting with warmth. “You’re right. It’s about what’s ahead that matters. I’m tired of running from my feelings. Let’s keep the door open this time.”

As you looked into his eyes, the echo of laughter and friendship melded together, creating the potential for something more profound. And in the enclosing dark of twilight, with only the soft glow of the fireplace illuminating the room, you felt ready to embrace every shift, every nuanced feeling that lay ahead.

With the warmth of the blanket between you, the shared memories glowing like embers around you, and the light of newfound understanding growing steadily, you both settled into an understanding that the evening was only the beginning. A pathway to uncharted territories of connection and possibility lay ahead—one built not just on shared histories, but also on the willingness to forge ahead, together, navigating whatever storms might come your way.

“You’ll have to tell me more about the secret magician hair tricks next,” he said after a moment, breaking the thoughtful reflection.

“Oh, I have plenty of those up my sleeve!” You laughed, and leaned deeper into his side, feeling the connection solidify with each shared moment between you.

You nestled deeper into the blanket, the warmth cocooning you as you and Sam exchanged comfortable glances, the moment inviting connection and open conversation.

With a soft sigh, you broke the silence, your curiosity bubbling to the surface. “So, how does it feel to have just completed the tour? I mean, it’s been such a whirlwind of a year for you guys!”

The question sparked a light in Sam’s eyes, igniting recollections that danced across his expression like the flickering flames in the fireplace. “Honestly, it feels surreal. We played in cities I never even thought I’d visit—a complete dream come true.” He leaned back slightly, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face. “From Tokyo to Paris, each show felt like a little slice of magic.”

Your heart swelled with happiness for him, the shared experiences of the tour coloring your view with an appreciation for their hard work and the art they created together. “It’s incredible what you guys have accomplished. I can't even imagine what it was like performing for all those crowds.”

“Yeah, it’s exhilarating but exhausting,” he replied, the laughter in his voice merging with a hint of weariness. “But it’s always worth it. The energy from the shows fuels everything we do.” He paused, his gaze settling on the dancing flames, and you knew there was another layer tacked onto his thoughts. “You know, the creative process is something we’ve honed over the years, especially when writing new songs.”

“Really? How does that work?” you inquired, leaning in with genuine interest.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar gesture that indicated he was transmitting from a well of fond memories. “Jake and Josh have this tradition of going somewhere remote to kick off the songwriting process. Nature seems to do something fantastic for inspiration—the silence, the fresh air—it just makes the words flow so much easier.” He chuckled, that warm and rich sound bringing a smile to your face. “I mean, we could never function on a tour bus like that. It’s got to be about disconnecting a little and finding that space to breathe.”

You nodded, imagining the landscapes they must have explored during those visits. “That sounds amazing. I can totally see how that would help.”

A glimmer of mischief flitted across his expression. “Speaking of which, I remember this one trip a couple of years ago. We took a hiking break, and it was supposed to be this epic adventure in a remote area. Great views, the works.”

“Let me guess, something went hilariously wrong?” you teased, egging him on.

“Oh, it was a comedy of errors,” he confirmed, a broad grin stretching across his face. “Danny just loved to show off, and while we were wading across the stream, he decided to hop on a stone for a better view. Well, he didn’t quite have the finesse he thought he did and ended up slipping right into the water.”

You burst into laughter, picturing the scene unfolding in your mind. “Oh no! Did he get soaked?”

“Absolutely! He went in with a huge splash, and it was all very dramatic,” Sam recounted, his eyes glinting with the kind of nostalgia that only comes from shared histories. “Jake, of course, did his best to save him, rushing over without a second thought to pull him out. But in true comedy fashion, he slipped right after Danny and fell in too!”

You laughed harder now, picturing the chaos of it all—the indignant yelps and the surprise splashes, two of your friends turned into a giggling mess in the middle of nature’s tranquility. “That’s amazing! I can only imagine how that must have looked.”

“It was ridiculous,” he admitted, shaking his head as he chuckled. “Here they were, two grown men floundering around in a freezing stream, while Josh just stood back, dying from laughter. He couldn't even help, he was just taking pictures, documenting the whole disaster!”

You continued to laugh along, your eyes sparkling with mirth. “What did Danny say after he got out? Was he mad?”

“Oh, he was furious at first—not at Jake, but at himself for being so reckless. But honestly, who could stay mad when you’re both wet, shivering, and covered in mud?” Sam smiled, his voice softening as he reminisced. “In the end, we all just started cracking up together. It became one of those memories that bonded us more than any of our successes.”

“That’s what it’s all about, right? Those crazy moments that bring you closer together?” you mused, your heart warming at the thought.

He nodded earnestly, his gaze thoughtful. “Exactly. It’s like every little adventure and misadventure adds to the tapestry of who we are as a band. Each experience, whether a success or a failure, is part of our story. And it sometimes leads to the best songs.”

“And I bet that one probably inspired a whole new track, didn’t it?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Funny you should say that,” he replied, an enthusiastic light returning to his eyes. “We did end up writing a song about it—we call it ‘Throwing Stones’ to poke fun at how we got there. It’s fun, upbeat, and it just ignites this lively spirit, reminding us to laugh, no matter the chaos!”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” you replied, a mix of excitement and sheer admiration warming your chest. “It’s so cool how you guys can turn life’s unpredictabilities into art.”

Taking a moment to let the conversation settle, Sam leaned back into the cushy sofa, his arm casually resting behind you on the back of the couch. “Honestly, it’s what keeps it all alive. Music, friendship, even the madness—if you can embrace it all, it makes the triumphs that much richer.”

Your eyes met his, and there was a understanding in the silence that followed, one that stretched beyond words. The stories, the struggles, the laughter—all wove together into an experience that you both cherished.

As you settled deeper into the blanket, you felt contentment wash over you anew. The gold of the setting sun faded into shadows outside, the room illuminated only by the soft flickering glow of the fire. The warmth between you felt like a harbor, anchoring the both of you in the present moment—a safe space where laughter, history, and genuine connection could thrive.

Feeling emboldened, you decided to dive deeper. “Speaking of songs, do you think you can write one with all the changes happening in our lives right now?”

He looked at you intently, his expression shifting thoughtfully. “For sure. It’s not just the crazy moments on tour—it’s the little things, the reconnections, the honest conversations. I think the feelings we’re going through right now are just as important.”

You smiled softly, the warmth of his words wrapping around you like the blanket you shared. “I’d love to hear how that transforms into music.”

“I promise I’ll write it down. Maybe we can even work on it together,” he suggested, that playful glint returning to his eyes, the allusion to past collaborations lingering in the air.

Your heart danced at his words, the prospect of shared creativity intertwining with the connection you had reignited. “I’d like that very much, Sam. Collaborating with you would be fantastic.”

He nodded with a satisfied smile, and again, a silence bloomed between you, but this time it was steeped with promise and possibility. As the fire crackled and the room darkened, the flickering shadows played across your faces, two souls wrapped in warmth, laughter—a reflection of the journey that had brought you both to this moment.

And there, beneath the soft glow of fading daylight, you found comfort not only in the stories you shared but in the future that stretched before you, painted with music, laughter, and above all, an effortlessly evolving connection.

As you nestled into Sam's side, the blanket wrapping snugly around both of you, a sense of warmth enveloped you both, not only from the fabric but from the connection that seemed to shimmer in the air. You felt a sense of comfort being this close, and it drew you even nearer, the soft sounds of the crackling fire filling the space around you.

“I’ve been following your journey online, you know,” you confessed softly, looking up at him with a smile. “Scrolling through Twitter during the tour has been quite the adventure, seeing everyone's reactions to your performances.”

A spark of curiosity flickered in his eyes. “Oh yeah? What were people saying?”

You giggled, letting the memories wash over you. “It’s hilarious! There were so many tweets about the lines forming for your shows. Some fans camped out for days in advance, posting about every silly thing they did to pass the time. I felt like a part of this massive movement!”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s wild! You’d think they were waiting for some major festival or something.”

“Exactly! And every time you guys finished a show, the excitement would literally explode on social media.” You took a moment to gather your thoughts, excitement bubbling within you. “I even made it to a few shows myself.”

“Oh really? You were there?” His interest peaked, and you could feel the warmth from his gaze as he leaned forward slightly.

“Yeah! I didn’t want to be too loud about it, but I watched from the back a couple of times,” you admitted, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “It was absolutely enchanting.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious. “Enchanting, huh? I like the sound of that.”

“No, seriously!” you laughed, your heart swelling with the memory. “Watching you on stage was mesmerizing. I could really see how into the music you got. The way you moved with the rhythm...” You trailed off for a moment, lost in the memory.

“Yeah? What did you think?” he urged, an eager smile tugging at his lips.

“I loved when you had your bass solo,” you said, excitement creeping into your voice. “The way you walked around the stage, engaging with the audience. It felt like you were sharing this incredible moment with everyone there. You’ve got this magnetic energy that pulls everyone in.”

A warm flush crept to his cheeks, and for a moment, his humility radiated through the modest smile on his face. “Wow. I appreciate that. I just try to make it feel personal, you know?”

You nodded enthusiastically, the memories firing off one after another. “Exactly! It felt like you were feeding off the crowd’s energy. The way you’d look out at everyone, and the smiles you exchanged—it was infectious!”

“I’m glad you felt that. I love the connection with the audience.” He paused, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “What most people don’t realize is how important they are to the show. Their reactions fuel me just as much as the music itself.”

You felt your heart flutter at the passion in his voice, a reminder of why you admired him so much. “And every time you handed out a pick, you could see the reactions. It was like handing them a piece of treasure! The way their faces lit up—there's something so special about that.”

He chuckled, a knowing smile crossing his face as he leaned back into the couch, continuing to bask in the shared memories. “It’s like a little moment of connection, isn’t it? Those picks become keepsakes for the fans. It’s a small way of giving them something to remember.”

“It is,” you agreed, feeling the heat of your conversation mingle with the warmth of the blanket. “And I loved seeing it. Watching people clutch those picks like they were golden tickets… it kind of made the whole experience feel magical.”

He glanced down at you, a smile gracing his lips. “Now I’m a bit self-conscious thinking about it, but I’m really glad you enjoyed it that much.”

You smiled back, your heart swelling anew. “How could I not? You were in your element, and it was so beautiful to see you shine. Watching you perform was like witnessing a symphony come to life.”

His laughter dotted the air softly, lifting the atmosphere between you. “You have a gift for words. Maybe you should be writing the song instead.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought, the lighthearted banter further deepening the warmth existing in that moment. “Who knows? Maybe you could add a ‘lyricist’ to my resume.”

“I like the sound of that! Adding to your list of talents,” he said, looking down at you with amusement. “What’s next? Life coach?”

You giggled, shrugging playfully. “I mean, I have been known to deliver some pretty sound advice...”

“Now I *have* to hear it,” he pressed, leaning closer, an amused expression dancing on his face. “Hit me with your best life advice.”

You thought for a moment, tapping your finger to your chin in mock contemplation. “Always bring snacks on road trips. It's essential for maintaining sanity! That—and keeping your friends close.”

“Wise words, truly.” His laughter blended with yours, the moment fostering an easy camaraderie, the very essence of friendship flowing through your words and warmth.

As you settled back into his side, savoring the gentle closeness, the conversation shifted, bubbling over with lightness and the warmth of shared memories. The backdrop of the fire crackling softly created a cozy atmosphere, wrapping around you in a loving embrace.

It felt good to reminisce about the tour and your adventures, but even more so, it felt good to be here, sharing those moments with him—his laughter, his warmth, and the joy of rediscovered connections mingling beautifully in the air.

And there, amidst the laughter and shared stories, you both created a memory all your own, a kind of magic that promised to grow, one conversation at a time.

As the warmth of laughter and connection settled around you both, the comforting crackle of the fire flickered gently in the background, casting a serene glow throughout the room. Sam had shifted slightly, leaning his head back against the soft musings of the couch, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest becoming steadier as the minutes passed. His eyelids, heavy and content, fluttered with the remnants of wakefulness before finally surrendering to a peaceful slumber.

You watched him, entranced by the serene aura that enveloped him as he nestled deeper into your lap, his hair fanning out like a dark halo across your legs. In that moment, the bonds of friendship seemed to intertwine with a deeper intimacy—one that felt both profoundly natural and blissfully perfect. You absentmindedly combed your fingers through his hair, letting the silky strands weave between them as thoughts of the evening glided through your mind.

With a gentle tug, you pulled the hair tie from Sam's hair, letting it cascade freely down, each strand curling slightly around his face. It was almost poetic—his hair flowing with the same graceful rhythm that had captured your admiration during his performances. As you settled comfortably into this newfound closeness, you felt compelled to play.

Curiosity sparked within you as you decided to experiment a little with his hair, almost as if it were an artistic endeavor. You gently gathered the long strands, separating them with a delicate touch, and began to braid them into a single ponytail once again. The careful movements felt meditative, each loop and twist taking on a life of its own.

“Now, let’s see how this works on you, Mr. Rockstar,” you whispered playfully, glancing down at him to watch his expression remain blissfully undisturbed. He simply sighed softly, deep in dreamland. Encouraged by his peaceful demeanor, you continued working.

Creating the braid lulled you into a calm rhythm, hands deftly weaving the strands together with gentle precision. You found yourself smiling, thinking of how he would look sporting a brand new style, completely unaware of your creative efforts. But just as your fingers settled comfortably, you released the braid, letting it unfurl and fall apart once more, strands cascading in waves back onto your lap.

This process of braiding and unbraiding felt oddly soothing, a quiet conversation between you and your companion without the need for words. Time seemed to slip through your fingers as you continued this delicate play, teasing his hair between your fingers while humming a soft melody you had inadvertently conjured up.

Every now and then, as you let the strands fall apart, he would shift slightly in his sleep, a quiet moan escaping his lips that sent a flutter through your heart. For a split second, you paused, the sound of his contentment wrapping around you like the embrace of a shared secret. It sounded so innocent, so vulnerable. You couldn’t help but feel a profound affection swell within you—a mixture of protectiveness and warmth that filled the room like the softest blanket.

After a moment, you resumed your gentle ministrations, braiding his hair again, fingers dancing between strands with precise intention. Each intricate weave melded your shared laughter, memories, and the warmth of togetherness into something tangible—something that felt deep and meaningful under each gentle twist of his hair.

With every new braid, you caught little glimpses of him in his dreams—small smiles playing on his lips as if he were reliving cherished moments from the tour or funny exchanges that had colored your conversations. Sam looked serene, his brow relaxed and his cheeks slightly flushed in the golden glow of the firelight.

You watched the way he nestled deeper into your lap, and for a moment, you marveled at how blissfully unaware he was. It was intimate in such a gentle way that you almost didn’t want it to ever end. As you tangled strands into another braid, you found yourself lost in thought. The vulnerability of the moment, the trust shown in how easily he had fallen asleep, tugged at your heartstrings in ways you had not anticipated.

Each new braid became a pathway for the affection you felt, weaving and flowing between braids and unravels, signifying the push and pull of emotions that danced around the two of you. You started to think about all the late-night conversations, all the concerts, and the laughter that bubbled up so easily between you two. The thought warmed you, wrapping around you like the blanket you shared with him, creating a cocoon of honest sharing and pure companionship.

As you continued this quiet ritual, he stirred slightly again, another soft sound slipping from his lips, as though echoing a distant memory. You paused, glancing down at him, momentarily losing yourself in the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. It was almost like he was calling out to you even in sleep, urging you to continue the tender act of care. And with that, you returned your focus to the strands of hair, starting again to play.

This rhythm flowed easily between you, wrapping time in layers of delicate connection. For a while longer, you focused on your braid, weaving in dreams, laughter, and the essence of who he was outside of the stage—the calm after the storm, if you will.

The combination of the crackling fire, the warmth of your bodies curled comfortably on the couch, and the gentle play with his hair created a bubble where the outside world began to fade away.

It was a surreal blend of reality and dreams, and within that intimate space, you felt as if this moment—this connection—was something effortlessly beautiful. And perhaps, it was.

As Sam settled deeper still, you traced your fingers across his forehead gently in the most tender of touches, and the pure, unguarded vulnerability in that quiet moment made your heart flutter again. His hair felt so soft beneath your fingers, and for just a moment longer, you indulged in the serene pleasure of this peaceful companionship, weaving the strands of his hair, almost as if to weave a bond that transcended words themselves.

The hours seemed to slip away as you became lost in the quiet charm of the moment, completely absorbed in the magic of simplicity—the essence of friendship that was evolving right before your eyes. A smile played on your lips as you let your thoughts drift, cradling him gently as he slept soundly, warmth radiating from the both of you.

And in the golden glow of that soft light, time ceased to exist, and you both savored the beauty of just being—tangled in friendship, laughter, and the way life had a knack for stitching together its most unexpected moments into something not just meaningful, but endlessly cherished.

As you continued your gentle ministrations with Sam's hair, the softness of the moment wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. The world outside slowly darkened, painted in deep shades of blue and indigo, quietly ushering in the late hour. You found yourself lost in the rhythm of the evening, shaping and reshaping the delicate strands of his hair, momentarily submerged in the wiggles of tranquility that filled the couch.

With a sigh, you pulled your gaze away from your delightful task and glanced towards the clock nestled on the mantle. The numbers glowed softly—far later than you had intended. Time had slipped away from you without fanfare, each moment merging seamlessly into the next. You felt a knot of warmth in your chest, half wishing you could freeze the time in this perfect, serendipitous place, yet realizing that the night was pressing on.

Looking outside, you saw that the vibrant hues of twilight had vanished, replaced by the dark cloak of night. The moon hung high above, radiating a silvery glow that illuminated the edges of the passing clouds. The stars peeked through as well, twinkling like a scatter of diamonds across the fabric of the sky. Yet with the night came a distinct chill that began to creep through the window, curling around the edges of the room, an insistent reminder of the late hour.

You turned your gaze back to him, still sound asleep in your lap, blissfully unaware of the passing time or the chill that encroached upon the cozy living room. His breathing was steady, and though he appeared peaceful, the cold air reminded you that maybe it was time to consider drifting off to bed. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight—his relaxed features, the way his lashes fanned gently against his cheeks—he looked utterly serene, like a child lost in the tranquility of a warm dream.

You brushed your fingers lightly against his forehead, wanting to keep him close, but knowing that the warmth of slumber would soon give way to chilliness if you didn’t act. Gently, you nudged his shoulder with the lightest of touches, careful not to startle him too much.

“Sammy...” you whispered softly, your voice barely piercing the quiet air. “It’s time to wake up.”

He stirred slightly, his brow furrowing before he let out a small sigh of contentment, but he didn’t quite rouse. You nudged him again, a little firmer this time, relishing the opportunity to tease him a bit. “Sammy, come on. It’s getting late.”

Finally, he cracked his eyes open, blinking against the dim light of the room. “Huh?” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. His gaze fell on you, a sleepy smile spreading across his lips. For a fleeting moment, he looked utterly adorable, still caught between the realms of dreams and waking reality.

You smiled back, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “It’s really late, you know. The fire's died down, and it’s getting a bit chilly.”

He lifted his head from your lap, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn that made your heart flutter. “Wow, I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep,” he said, rubbing the remnants of drowsiness from his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Late enough that we should probably head to bed,” you said softly, leaning in to meet his gaze more directly. “We don’t want to freeze out here.”

With a lazy grin, he looked around the room, as if only just realizing how cold it had indeed become. “I guess I got a little too cozy,” he chuckled, shaking off the last vestiges of slumber. “Guess that’s what happens when you’re surrounded by two of my favorite things—good company and a warm blanket.”

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment. “I’m glad you feel that way,” you said sincerely, heart swelling with warmth. “But really, I don’t think we want to push our luck with the cold.”

“True,” he agreed, swinging his legs off the couch and sitting up fully. He stretched again, a fascinating set of movements that revealed the elegant nature of his body, the way years of performing had molded him into a beautiful form. You couldn’t help but appreciate the sight, a mix of admiration and the comforting familiarity coloring your gaze.

As he finally stood, you couldn’t help but admire the casual grace he possessed even in moments of drowsiness. He brushed the hair from his forehead with a half-hearted attempt to tame it, which made you stifle a giggle at how endearing he looked.

“Let’s grab some blankets and head to bed, then?” he suggested, his voice dipping lower with the suggestion, the idea of retreating into the warmth of the night drawing you both closer together.

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement building at the thought of snuggling up together after such a cozy evening. “I could use a warm bed after all this.”

“Lead the way!” he said, a playful glint in his eyes, and you found yourself smiling brightly as you headed towards the stairs that led up to the bedrooms.

As you ascended, you could hear the sound of his footsteps following closely behind, the rhythm of your movements blending into an understated melody that wrapped around you, adding another layer of comfort to the night. With each step, the chill dissipated, replaced with a warmth that thrummed quietly in your chest.

Once in your room, you swung open the linen closet, retrieving extra blankets that you wrapped around your arms like a comforting cocoon. Glancing over at Sam, you couldn’t help but let a soft smile slip onto your face as he pulled the curtains open, peering through the window at the starry night outside.

“I can’t get over how beautiful it is out tonight,” he remarked, his voice threaded with a hint of admiration. “It always feels like another world after a night like this.”

“And now we have our own little refuge,” you responded, a sense of contentment spreading through you. “We’ll be warm and cozy in here.”

He turned back to you, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “You know, if my hair keeps falling all over the place, I might have to borrow those good company skills to keep it tidy again.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you tossed him one of the blankets. “I think I can help with that! But right now, it’s time for some rest, don’t you think?”

His grin widened, and you could see the sleep still lingering in his eyes. “Definitely.”

As you settled into the bed, layering the warm blankets around you, you couldn’t help but feel that the day—though it had ebbed away—had transformed into something magical and real. The laughter you had shared, the moments of quiet intimacy, and now this gentle transition toward rest felt like a beautiful culmination of a night well spent.

You could sense that the warmth of friendship had deepened into something more—not overt, but definitely there, like those stars twinkling faintly in the night sky above you.

As you nestled into your blankets, feeling the comfort envelop you like a gentle embrace, you stole one last glance at Sam before you closed your eyes. He had settled himself beside you, cocooned in his blanket like a soft, sleepy giant. His eyes had begun to droop again, the peaceful look returning as he sank back into the warmth—not just of the covers, but, you realized, of this beautiful, unspoken bond that formed between you both.

“Goodnight, Sammy,” you whispered, voice thick with gentle affection.

“Goodnight,” he murmured sleepily, a soft smile gracing his features before he finally succumbed to the embrace of slumber once more.

With the stars gleaming outside and the warmth of your connection wrapping around you, you drifted off to sleep, heart lighter and mind filled with dreams of laughter, friendship, and the promise of many more nights like this to come.The night deepened steadily, and the world outside gradually transformed into a crisp, silent realm as the cold coiled itself around the house. Even with the warmth of the blankets and the intimacy of your shared space, the chill felt insistent beyond the window, a stark reminder that the winter night was far from forgiving. You could hear the wind whispering against the glass, an almost haunting sound that sent shivers dancing over your skin.

In the cocoon of your blankets, you felt warm and safe, the warmth between you and Sam a palpable comfort that ebbed and flowed like the quiet whispers of the night. You had sunk into a peaceful slumber, dreams flitting in and out like shadows. But suddenly, you sensed a stirring beside you—a shifting of the weight that seemed to draw your attention.

You blinked awake, momentarily disoriented as the dim light of the room seeped back into your consciousness. As your awareness came back, your gaze landed on Sam, who had pulled himself closer to you, his body pressing against yours with an urgency that seemed uncharacteristic of the calm from before. There was a softness in the way he nestled against you, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, surrounded by the material of your blankets.

“Wow, it really got cold,” Sam mumbled sleepily, his voice muffled against you. You could feel his exhalations against your arm, and it sent a wave of warmth flooding through you, contrasting sharply with the chill creeping into the room.

You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at the ticklish sensation that accompanied his slight facial hair brushing against your skin. The playful scratchiness felt both intimate and amusing, and you choked back another laugh as a ripple of warmth swept through you. It was a mixture of affection and something more, and you had to force yourself to focus, to rein in your bubbling mirth.

“Okay, okay, Mr. Cuddlebug,” you chided softly, pushing against him gently in a mock protest. “Are you trying to steal all my body heat?”

He chuckled lightly, his face still settled against your shoulder, creating a feeling of cozy closeness. “I can’t help it; you’re warmer than the blankets!” he exclaimed, a playful innocence in his tone. His fingers, in their warmth, found their way to your waist, encircling you slightly and pulling you closer.

You could feel your heart race in response, and for a fleeting moment, you basked in the comfort of his proximity, the way your bodies fit together so perfectly beneath the layers of blankets. However, as you settled back into the cushion of warmth, you became undeniably aware of a different tension that had built between you—something subtle but increasingly noticeable.

Sam’s body pressed against yours had suddenly shifted from a purely innocent cuddle to something a little more heated. As he nestled deeper into your side, you felt the unmistakable pressure of his arousal against you—a solid warmth pushing into your hip. You swallowed hard, sudden awareness flooding your senses with a mixture of surprise and something undeniably alluring.

The affectionate, cozy atmosphere blossomed into something charged, and it sent your thoughts spiraling in conflicting directions. Part of you wanted to tease him, to playfully bring attention to the situation, but another part—a more cautious side—felt the indescribable gravity pulling you both into unfamiliar territory. It was a sensation that blurred the line between friendship and something deeper.

“Um, Sammy…” your breath was caught in your throat, shaky and uncertain as you turned your head to glance down at him, intrigue licking at the edges of your hesitation. The room had grown unbearably still, the chill outside forgotten in the fervent warmth of that moment, yet a flicker of nervousness danced through you.

He lifted his head slightly, meeting your gaze with a drowsy smile. “What’s up?” His voice had a softness, a still murmur caught between sleep and waking, and it only served to amplify the unusual tension of the moment.

You sensed the vulnerability radiating off of him, that moment when both of your thoughts seemed to converge upon the same realization yet carried with it the weight of unvoiced expectations. “You’re… um,” you started, faltering slightly though you knew you needed to address what was becoming obvious. “You know you’ve got, like, a little—”

His expression shifted, realization dawning on him, and the playful, sleepy demeanor gave way to something more aware. His cheeks flushed lightly as he hastily shifted away from you, creating a space between you both as abrupt as it was unexpected. “Oh—wow, I didn’t mean to—sorry,” he stammered, the words coming out with a breathless rush.

Despite the sudden awkwardness, a giggle escaped your lips before you could hold it back. The laughter surprised you both, filling the room with an unexpected lightness, easing the tension that had sparked in that shared space. “Oops,” you mused playfully, your heart still racing, “Guess I should’ve seen that coming.”

With a sheepish smile, Sam ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly embarrassed but equally amused at the whole situation. “Yeah, I should’ve thought that through,” he admitted, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “Guess I got a little too… comfortable?”

The laughter lifted, repeating in playful waves, and you found that the initial shock had morphed into an intimate moment—one that held the potential for deeper understanding and connection. It was a hesitation, a boundary that shifted ever so slightly in the warmth of your friendship, yet it felt inherently right—the tension transforming into a shared secret.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said softly, the night being too enchanting for discomfort to linger. “We’re just two friends keeping warm, right?” You nudged him gently, teasing as you decided to playfully lean into the moment rather than shy away from it.

“Right, just two friends,” Sam echoed, a little more playfully now, his gaze meeting yours with that familiar spark of mischief you’d come to adore.

But even as the playful exploration lingered in the air around you, there was something unmistakably different now; the spark had flared brightly, and you could sense the acknowledgment that extended between you both, teetering in the grey area of friendship and something deeper.

You both sank back into the warmth of the blankets, laughter weaving into comforting silence, and though the laughter had eased the initial tension, you savored the understanding that hung in the air—a shared acknowledgment of hidden desires, of the closeness that drew you in yet again.

Time flowed more easily as you settled back into a comfortable position, Sam’s gaze flickering down to the blankets, a smile lingering on his lips. “Well, since it’s so cold out there, maybe we should keep the body warmth going? It’s definitely cozier that way,” he suggested, his tone laced with a sweetness that made your heart flutter.

“Yeah,” you responded, feeling a wisp of excitement surge within you. “Cozy sounds perfect.”

With that, he didn’t hesitate to pull you back into him, sharing warmth as he wrapped his arms around you once again, burying his face into the crook of your neck, brushing his facial hair against your skin once more in a way that sent delightful shivers tingling down your spine.

This time, though, the moment felt different—an electric thrill ran through you as he nestled in closer, the space between you almost nonexistent. It was a sweet surrender to both the chill outside and the warmth of the connection you both had, a promise woven in that intimate silence: that you would both navigate this new terrain together, exploring what lay ahead in the darkness of the night.

You melted into the warmth of Sam’s embrace, grateful for the cocoon of blankets that shielded you from the biting cold that continued to seep through the walls of the house. The winds outside howled with an unsettling fierceness, but inside, the atmosphere felt luxurious and safe. You reveled in the closeness, but as moments drifted by, the chill creeping into the room began to settle into your bones once more, a stark reminder that winter was relentless.

You couldn’t help but notice how Sam’s body radiated warmth against your skin, and the desire to snuggle in further began to pull at you. With much hesitation, you began to slowly push yourself back into him, feeling the inviting heat emanate from his body. As you nestled closer, the seamless bond between you grew thicker, pulsing with an energy that both excited and comforted you in equal measures.

However, the moment you shifted, you felt the unmistakable outline of his arousal pressing against you, more pronounced now than it had been before. A thrill ran through you—a blend of nervousness and exhilaration—as the proximity heightened your awareness of the situation. He grumbled softly, a sound that reverberated against your skin, sending an unexpected shiver through you.

“What are you doing?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and still teetering on the edge of drowsiness. The inquiry was laced with both curiosity and something undeniably playful, and his tone sent sparks dancing through the space between you.

You stifled a giggle, and a soft smile broke over your face as you met his sleepy gaze. There was something about the way he looked at you, a blend of vulnerability and amusement that made your heart race just a little faster. “I’m just cold,” you replied, feeling adventurous, even daring, as the words slipped from your lips. “The blankets are nice, but there’s still a chill in the air, and you’re like a human furnace.”

You pushed in even closer, a playful challenge in the way you allowed your body to mold against him, reveling in the contrasts—the warmth you felt from Sam juxtaposed with the retrenching cold. His body reacted, muscles tensing in response to your movements, and for a moment, there was an overwhelming silence, each of you acutely aware of the newly charged atmosphere surrounding you both.

As you settled against him, you felt a flicker of mischief light up within Sam. He brought his face closer, his breath warm against your shoulder as he grazed his teeth softly against your skin, almost like a gentle warning—teasing yet commanding, summoning you to acknowledge the tenuous line you were both now dancing upon.

A gasp slipped through your lips, barely restrained, turning into an accidental whimper as the sensation sent an electrifying thrill through your spine. It was an instinctive reaction, drawn from reflex as you felt the warmth of him pressed firmly against you. In that moment, you realized how close you were to crossing from the comforting safety of friendship into something far more intense, something that sent your heart racing with excitement and trepidation.

The sound of your reaction hung thick in the air—a mixture of vulnerability, desire, and the realization of the intimacy you both shared—in that suspended moment where time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded into silence, and all you could focus on was the delightful tension simmering between your bodies.

It felt exhilarating yet disconcerting, that heady blend of fear and allure. You could feel Sam’s heartbeat against your back, the steady thrum echoing the words spoken in those simmering moments—words unvoiced but acknowledged all the same. It was a collective understanding that this wasn’t merely about comfort anymore. Something deeper was unfolding, an acknowledgment of the chemistry you both had long felt but was now pushing to the surface, begging to be explored.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you processed your surroundings, your fingers playing with the fabric of the blankets, caught somewhere in a liminal space between friendship and something entirely different. Your heart raced as your body responded to the intimacy—the closeness, the warmth, and the undeniable connection that seemed to weave itself tighter with each passing second.

It was a moment that seemed to encapsulate everything you had been feeling, everything that had been lingering in the unspoken air between you, and it felt both intoxicating and frightening. You could almost taste the anticipation hanging there, sparking into something electric, searching for an outlet, waiting for someone to take that leap further into the unknown.

And so you lingered, wrapped in the warmth of impending change, wondering where the night and your burgeoning connection might lead.

The tension in the air morphed from electricity to playful teasing in an instant, the magic of that moment lightening up at Sam’s smirk as he leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Wow, someone’s a little sensitive,” he joked, a playful laugh escaping his lips. “Whimpering already? I didn’t think I had that effect on you yet.”

His teasing carried a familiar tone, one that stirred memories you had thought buried. It brought back the days when you two were practically enemies, rivals in everything—classes, sports, and even friendships. The banter was always quick and sharp, filled with snarky comments and snide invitations to outdo one another. You could remember the countless times you had glared at each other across the room, daring another to take the first step into a confrontation.

The nostalgic rush of memories made your heart race for entirely different reasons, and in that instant, your body reacted as if struck by a light bolt. You shot straight up from the bed, the blankets pooling around you in a chaotic mess as your mind jumbled through emotions, battle scars of rivalry colliding with the familiar warmth of affection.

“Are you serious right now?” you exclaimed, voice rising with incredulity. “We were doing so well! How could you fuck it up like this?” The words tumbled from your mouth, a mixture of frustration and disbelief, shockwaves of your past echoing in the heat of your outburst.

Sam's eyebrow shot up in genuine surprise at your sudden shift, the previously playful atmosphere hanging heavily between you. “Wait, what?” he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement despite the severity of your tone. “I was just teasing! You didn’t have to go all dramatic on me.”

You felt a slight rush of adrenaline, the heart-pounding kind that had defined so many of your earlier encounters. There was a thrill in standing up to him, showing that the warmth and affection couldn’t mask the fire you’d once wielded so easily. But before you could walk fully away from the bed, Sam’s arm shot out, gripping your wrist and pulling you back down with surprising strength.

“Hey! If you keep complaining about everything I do, I might just have to give you something better to do with your mouth,” he purred, a mischievous glint in his eye that left no room for doubt as to the implications of his words.

His tone hung in the air between you, an unspoken challenge woven through his suggestion—one that danced brazenly along the edges of the playful rivalry you had once thrived on. You couldn’t help but scoff, a laugh bubbling up from your core at his audacity. “Oh please,” you shot back, arching an eyebrow as you faced him, a teasing smile creeping onto your lips. “You wouldn’t be giving me much to work with.”

The moment hung there, throbbing with tension, humor mingling with the intensity of your previous exchanges. Sam chuckled, the sound warm in the cozy room, and his reluctance to retreat from your banter was palpable, a friendly duel of words as natural as breathing.

“Is that so?” he challenged, his voice low and playful, running his fingers through his hair in that familiar way that always made him seem effortlessly charming. “You’re not even considering what I could do if you stopped being so dramatic for just a minute.”

“Oh, dramatic? Look who’s talking,” you countered, your heart racing at the sheer audacity of your conversation. “Do you seriously think I’m going to just sit here and take it?”

“Are you sure you want to challenge me?” he shot back, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Because I could definitely make it worth your while if you let me.”

Feeling emboldened by your tension, you leaned forward just a fraction, closing the space between you two again. “I’m not afraid of you, Sam,” you declared, the words coming out with a playful bite, pulling your old personas of rivalry into a new territory that was somehow easier to navigate grounded in this warmth and shared comfort.

“But, in that case,” he said, leaning in as well, lips curving into a smirk, “you might want to brace yourself.”

A surge of excitement coursed through you as you felt the playful challenge hanging in the air. The dynamic had shifted so decidedly from your past encounters, intertwining the comfort of camaraderie with the thrill of newfound exploration. As you teetered on the precipice of uncertainty, there was an undeniable chemistry shared in those moments, a fire igniting between you as your words danced like flames in a gentle summer breeze.

“Bring it on,” you whispered back, heart pounding at the thrill of the shift. The night felt electric again; the stakes had transformed into something deliciously unpredictable, eager for the two of you to navigate the terrain of what came next.

You both lingered there, on the brink of something new, laughter and teasing biting at the edges, enveloped in warmth, words igniting the very spark that had drawn you together in the first place. It was a heady mix of everything you had been, and everything you could become, wrapped in the bittersweet tension of your shared history and the promise of an exhilarating future yet unwritten.

[satlun]

Vacation Boy: Johnny Utah x fem!reader

Genre: slow burn, fluff, and definitely angst Trigger Warnings: Johnny Utah's sweetness

It was a hot summer day in the middle of July that you will always remember.

Author's Note: I really love this one. I feel like I really wrote it down from my heart. It's like I put my soul into it. Yeah, I hope you guys enjoy!! ♥️

April 18, 1992 at New York

It is a move-in day for the new job you just got here after graduation, at the big city. You drop your bags and luggage on the floor immediately right at the moment you close your apartment's door. Five-hour flight from Idaho and you just finished moving your stuff in, you're really tired.

Your eyes look around the apartment. It a mess, you can't even have a bed or even a space on the floor to sleep on. You just bought a new bed today and it will deliver within two days, guess you have to sleep on the floor tonight. How bad. You kick the boxes away from your way before stepping in the middle of your room, looking around and thinking which box you should open first or maybe you just move them to one of the corners and open them tomorrow. You sigh.

And another thought kick in, maybe you should open them now before the delivery delivers your bed which is so big, too big for one person but you don't care actually. You sit down on the floor that have many boxes around you. You decide to open the boxes that you packed up your clothes first. You put your clothes into your closet and dress up at the same time. Some clothes you haven't wear it since you bought them and some clothes you haven't seen them but your mom probably packed them for you? You try the new ones on while looking at the mirror. Your eyes admire the dress you're wearing on until your gaze spots the box that says “old stuffs” through the mirror. You turn around and walk to it. You're a person who loves keeping things as your memories, postcards, letters and souvenirs.

The box that full of stuff you have collected, you smile while picking them up. Your old memories start to come into your mind. You really love this feeling, it is good if you understand. The feeling and the emotion during those moments will come across your mind. You grab many things out of the box until the last piece, your old diary which there is no page left.

You open shortly from the first page until the last page. Your eyes roam through it until you spot one page on 17th July last year.

July 17, 1991

I met a guy on the vacation... five days ago on 12th July at Latigo beach. He was a cool guy I met on the last day of my vacation. We talked and had a lot of fun there... he has pretty brown eyes and beautiful hair. I need to write about him before all the memories are gone. I don't want to forget about him. He's the most handsome guy with the most precious soul I have ever met. When he was in the sea, surfing was so amazing. Him and surfing was a bond. All of his friends were nice to me and they had their amazing goals. I wish he still thinks about me honestly even I am not that pretty but he really gets my heart...

You are lost in your memories, all the feelings get back to your mind. The beach, the wind, the sun and him...

...

It was a hot summer day of the mid July at California and it was the last day of your vacation. The sun didn't rise yet since it was only 6am in the morning. You walked down the stairs from the road to the beach alone since your parents were still asleep. You wanted to see sunrise at the beach before you leave because first you had to leave so early in the next morning second Idaho doesn't have beaches third you don't go to beaches so often even beach is your favorite place.

Your eyes looked around the beach. There was no one here except a guy around your age surfing alone in the sea at this early?? Well, that was quite interesting. The water must be so cool sine the sun didn't rise yet. That was what you thought. You sat down on the sand with your casual clothes which actually were the clothes you wore last night. The beach was very quiet that you could only hear the wave and the wind, so peaceful. You always love California because your dad talked about it a lot and his favorite song is Hotel California by Eagles which your dad always listens to it since you were young. You wished you could stay here forever, you would build a small house next to the beach and you might actually start learning how to surf. You thought it was cool, how come people stand on those boards and surf on big waves? That must relate with physics but it was still cool for you. You really wanted to learn it one day.

After a while of sitting and glancing at him time to time. You know it was hard to look somewhere else when no one was there except this guy. You could say, he wasn't that good in surfing but you didn't want to judge anybody so you tried to stop thinking about this mysterious stranger guy. You distracted yourself by looking at the sun which was starting to rise. Just a little.

Right now, the guy was swimming closer to the shore. You feel a little bit nervous because there was only you here all alone and what if he says, “You stared at me. Are you a psycho?” What are you gonna do! You just hoped that he didn't notice that which was impossible. He was now walking up to the beach, seems like he was walking to you. Oh my- you felt like you just wanted to disappear. Please please please, I didn't mean to stare... what? Did he just give you a smile?

“Hi?” The guy looked down at you with a soft smile while the sky was starting to become yellow. “Hi” You answered as he slowly sat down next to you, not close. It's good since he was a completely a stranger, not bad for the first impression. “What brings you here this early?” He looked at you before rubbing his head with a towel. “The sun... and what about you?” You looked at him with his wet hair, he didn't look at you but the sun. It was raising. “If I say myself?” He said and finally looked at you once again. What does it mean ‘myself’? “You mean– you, yourself just want to be here this early. That's all?” His eyebrows raised. “A shot in the dark.” He chuckled. “It's not that hard.” You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a smile and the conversation became silent, it was awkward and he was just wiping his face with the towel. “You surf a lot?” It was a dumb question actually but who cares, you hate dead air. “Lately, yes. I'm practicing it. I just caught my first tube this morning.” You just nodded and then continued the conversation. “I always appreciate people who can surf... you know. How can people stand on that board and surf in big waves? It is just cool for me.” His chuckle was so cute... what? You mean it was soft and whatever. As if he could read your mind. “It must be something about physics but I don't know, not my type.” Not his type? It was a joke he meant he didn't even care about physics since it wasn't his favorite subject. “Then what's your type?” He could answer it in a second. “Athletic” It was obvious that he liked athletic, his body and his spirit? “I see...” The sun rose now. You could see it clearly now. You glances at your watch and it was 7am. “You live here?” His soft and deep voice interrupted you. “No. I'm on my vacation, tomorrow is my last day.” He nodded before giving you a glance. “How was your vacation?” He asked. “It was good. I had a lot of fun here.” You always love it. Everything all just gave you peace to your mind and soul. It was like another kind of healing. “I'm glad you had a lot of fun here.” His beautiful smile formed on his face again. Your heart almost skipped a beat but you tried to keep it cool. You glanced at his board. “I wish I could surf.” He believes that the only thing that is matter is ourselves. If you want to do something, you should do it. “You can try. Just do it. Do it for yourself.” You sighed in desperation. “I want to... but there's no beach back in Idaho.” “You are from Idaho?” He raised his eyebrows. “Yes” You looked at him. “I've never been there but I would love to one day.” “You should. It's great. I can tour you around.” It was a joke but what if it sounds weird... “Yeah. It would be nice.” He smiled at you and all of your concerns were gone. He is the kind of person who makes you feel comfortable while you're talking to. “It may have indoor surfing places in Idaho maybe?” he gave you an advice. “I think it has but it can't be campared to this actual sea right?" You span your arms to the sea. “The real waves and the real sea water.” His eyes followed your hand and nodded. “Yeah. You're right. This one is better.” He gave you a smile while looking at you.

For a moment, you saw him glancing at his watch, it almost 8am and he seemed like he needed to go. He grabbed his surf board and stood up, ready to leave. “Do you wanna... eat lunch together?” Did he just ask me on a date or something? Your delusions consumed you again. You hesitated at first because you just had no idea about your answer if it should be; “Yes, of course I'm so glad you ask me!!” Or “Okay, sure.” Or “no... I already have a plan” because he is still a random guy that you just met. However, he had no harm you could feel it. So, your answer was, “Sounds good. Sure. Where?” He pointed at the sidewalk restaurant near the beach which was still close now. “There” you stood up and followed his finger. “Okay. 12pm?” You asked “Yeah. 12pm.” He was about to leave but something made him stop and turn around. “I'm Johnny.” That was it, you thought he wouldn't tell you his name. “Y/n. Nice to meet you.” You gave him a quick smile. “Same here.” He gave you a soft smile like the first time he did before leaving.

...

11.50am at California State was really hot. Your face was so sweaty, your legs rushed to the door of the sidewalk restaurant and got in. The restaurant was still hot because there was no air conditioning. You sit on a table, waiting for Johnny to come. Your clothes were changed to something prettier. Well, you didn't mean to impress anyone but yourself. Right?.... RIGHT?

After a while of waiting for him and it was already 12pm, he finally showed up in a tight grey shirt which made him look different in good way. His hair was now dry and was set perfectly. He literally could pull anybody he wanted. That was your weird thought. When Johnny spot you, he rushed to you with the same soft smile immediately. You didn't know if it was the weather or it was him that made your heart melt.

“Have you been here long?” He sat down in front of you as you shook your head. “No. Not at all.” Johnny nodded as an answer before picking up a menu. “What would you like to eat today?” When it comes to food, it always be a hard decision to make. Usually, you just order the same same thing but maybe this time you should try something different. “I have no idea... could you recommend me something good?” He gave you a smile and show the menu for you. He pointed his finger on shrimp and fries. “Sure. This. Is my favorite.” It sounds good shrimp and fries. You gave him a nod and smiled at him. He has a good taste in food. “Shrimp and fries, 2 please?” Johnny called a waitress and ordered the food for you and him. It was not a date right? But you couldn't help to think it that way. He set his hair perfectly... it wasn't that necessary to do it just for eating lunch in this weather with a girl he just met. Whatever.

After the waitress went to the kitchen, Johnny started talking to you. “Where did you visit this morning?” He shot you a question. “Santa Monica Pier. There are amusement rides and many other things.” You explained to him while your eyes are looking around the restaurant and switch to him time to time. It was hard to just stare and focus on him. You meant he was kind of... handsome? It was just hard you know. “That is my favorite place when I was a kid. You like to play something exciting?” He raised his eyebrows because that is his favorite thing as well. “Oh no. Not at all. But my younger brother does so he dragged me there.” Johnny laughed at your answer. “You have a younger brother? I wish I had one.” He gave you a smile before looking out the window, watching other kids playing around the beach. “Oh please. You wouldn't like it that much.” You chuckled. “How come?” He was curious. “He is naughty and ugh so on. You will understand if you have one.” You paused for a moment before continuing to speak. “But I do wish I had an older brother.” Johnny switched his gaze on you again. He noticed your eyes that full are full of hope. “So you're the oldest?” He asked. “Yeah.” He inhaled and exhaled softly as he put his hands on the table. “Being the oldest must be very hard. You know, they have to be good at everything and also have responsibility at the same time. And we are just teenagers who just want to have fun.” He paused and notice that you were listening to him carefully so he started to tell you more about him. “I really understand that feeling. I'm an only child and the things aren't that different.” All the things he said was just right. You the oldest and it feels like everything or every weight is on your back. You have to handle it. You must. “As if you can read my mind.” You chuckled to make the conversation felt less intense. Johnny flashed his soft smile at you again. That was his deadly weapon of killing you. “How many years apart are you and your brother?” You didn't expect that even you were about to ask him about his age either. “11 years. I'm 22 and he's 11.” Johnny nodded as the waitress served us our food. “I'm 24... let's eat.” You both smiled at each other before eating his favorite food. You hadn't tried it before and it was better than you expected. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone or the same thing you usually do aren't that bad. You try something new and you may accidentally found your new favorite things.

30 minutes later of talking and eating food, you both stepped out of the sidewalk restaurant. You looked out at the sea which the surface was reflecting the sun and the heat. “So... me and my new friends have a party tonight and the beach... if you want to join you can come.” He interrupted you. “Thank you but... I don't want to interrupt your party...” You chuckled at him. The truth was you just hate meeting new people sine you have social anxiety. “It's alright. Never mind.” He seemed like he was about to leave. So, this was gonna be your last time of seeing him?? That's it? “Maybe it's not that bad– I'll go.” His smile was formed from excitement you could tell. You wished you could make him smile forever, it was like sunshine in a daylight sky. “See you there at 7pm.” Johnny pointed at some space at the beach, and you nodded as understanding.

...

The weather is completely different from the day and the night. The wind makes you feel cold. Both of your hand brush your arm while walking down the stairs. You can see a group of teenagers walking and dancing around a bonfire at the beach. It must be them, his new friends. You just hope that he was already there because it was gonna be weird if a stranger showed up at Mr.Nobody's party.

That moment Johnny saw you first. He stood up and rushed to you immediately, noticing your reaction. “Are you cold?” You just nodded and walked along with him. “Come closer to the bonfire.” He led you to the bonfire that was around by his friends. You sit down on the log he already prepared for you. Suddenly, all of his friends noticed your presence. They walked to you and started to talk. “This is Bodhi. Bodhi, this is y/n.” Johnny introduced you to the man who was a bit older than him and his blond hair was really memorizing. “Nice to meet you, Bodhi.” Bodhi just nodded before sitting next to Johnny. “Your girlfriend?” Johnny refused immediately. He didn't want you to make you feel uncomfortable at all but it was also still hard to control his friend's mouth. “No. She's my new friend.” His deep voice and the reaction of protecting over you was a thing. “I'm sorry for my mouth.” Bodhi made a joke before offering his hand to you, you shook his hand and gave a quick smile.

Bodhi was scary for you at first. However, the moment after you both had a conversation about many things, especially the 50 year storm. You started to see him differently. He wasn't that bad. He was a cool guy. You loved when he talked about the ocean and the sea. As if he was a son of a mermaid or something. His spirit that he had towards the marine life was just really cool. He was a cool guy with his big goal. You just hoped that if that time comes, he would be able to go to Bell's beach in time and achieve the ultimate ride.

An hour later, the boys and the girls decided to play football. “Come, y/n” Bodhi called you while holding a ball in his hand. “Thank you... but I prefer to watch.” Well, because you're not good at athletic at all. You didn't want to embarrass yourself as well so refusing him was the best choice. “Come on.” Bodhi tried to convince you and Johnny noticed that. He walked to you and said something quietly. “If you don't want to, it's okay. I'll talk to him.” When you heard him saying that, all the thoughts you had towards athletes were changed. Well, Johnny really affected on you that much. You hesitated for a moment and then you realized that you wanted to get out of your comfort zone and tried something new. If you accidentally embarrassed yourself then it was going to be alright since this was the last night of staying here. They were not going to remember your embarrassing moments forever. You didn't answer him back except walking into the crowd, ready to join. A smile formed on his face while his eyes followed you.

You started to play clumsily. It was kind of embarrassing but whatever. You tried to not care and it seemed work. Fun made you forget all about those thoughts. You played and you fell off over and over but you could still laugh and smile because it was really fun. Johnny always cheered you up for the whole game. “You're doing great.” Or “Keep going.” He said softly to you for the whole time.

Almost an hour later. It was 9pm. It was the time to go back to the hotel. You had to leave early in the morning and your parents must be worried about you now. “Are you leaving?” Johnny noticed that you started to look back at the hotel and wipe all the sand from your pants. “Yeah” you said. “Safe flight, y/n!” Bodhi and his friends shouted at you. You just said thank you to all of them. “I'll walk with you.” Johnny said quietly. You insisted him to stay here but he didn't listen. It was completely dark and he was worried about you.

The only sound you could hear is the waves. It was not totally dark, it still has light along the road. He was walking along the beach with you. You talked about how fun it was and how cool his friends were. He chuckled with every word you said. “So, I hope it will be one of your best memories of traveling here.” Johnny looked at you while your hair was flowing because of the wind. “It definitely is... thank you, Johnny... you really made my vacation so special.” Johnny nodded and smiled. “No problem. You deserve it.” You smiled and looked over the sea, thinking about tomorrow. You had to leave very early and you didn't think that you would see him again. “What time will you leave tomorrow?” Johnny interrupted your thoughts. “6am. I don't want to leave.” You sighed. “I wish you could stay here forever too.” That moment your heart was beating so fast. His voice, his words and the atmosphere. As if he was about to say something and you didn't want to ask him either. If he wanted he would. “I will come. Tomorrow. 6am to send you.” You raised your eyebrows immediately. Gosh, you thought this was gonna be the last time you saw him. You flashed a happy face to him. “Thank you, Johnny. It's kind of weird that I just know you for a day but... you know I feel comfortable around you and... I feel like I could talk about anything with you.” Johnny chuckled and looked at the sand that was stepped by our feet. “I feel that way too. I'm glad I know you.” And you said back immediately. “I'm glad that you said ‘hi’ to me.” You both laughed. “I saw you glanced at me... maybe you just wanted to talk?” You were caught off guard. He noticed that you actually glanced at him tome to time while he was surfing. “There was nobody there except a guy surfing. You can't blame me.” You both laughed out loud. “Sure. I can't blame you for looking at this good surfing man.” You just shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “Don't stop alright?” He's confused. “Stop what?” “Surfing. You seem... very happy and– very concentrated while surfing. It is like you are in your own world. I think surfing really matches you.” Johnny nodded and smiled. “Sure. I will keep that in mind.”

You both finally arrived at the front of your hotel. You turn around to see him again before walking into the building. “Good night, Johnny.” He sighed and smiled at you. “Good night, y/n. See you tomorrow.” You smiled back and walked into the building, you walked and turn back and walked again. Johnny laughed at your actions. He waited for you until the elevator's doors closed and gave you a smile as you did the same then he finally turned around and walked away.

...

The next morning at 5:45am. You were waiting your parents and your brother to put the luggage into the car. You said to them that you wanted to see the beach for the last time and you would be back by 6am.

You ran across the road, down to the beach, looking around hoping to see him sitting somewhere waiting for you but there was no sign of him at all. You waited and waited and waited... 5:48... 5:54... 5:58... 6:00... he didn't come as he said... as if it was all just a dream you had last night. As if it wasn't real. As if it hadn't happened... you lost in your thoughts while turning around to find him every direction. There was no one, only the sea and you.

You gave up and left.

...

July 17, 1991

I met a guy on the vacation... five days ago on 12th July at Latigo beach. He was a cool guy I met on the last day of my vacation. We talked and had a lot of fun there... he has pretty brown eyes and beautiful hair. I need to write about him before all the memories are gone. I don't want to forget about him. He's the most handsome guy with the most precious soul I have ever met. When he was in the sea, surfing was so amazing. Him and surfing was a bond. All of his friends were nice to me and they had their amazing goals. I wish he still thinks about me honestly even I am not that pretty but he really gets my heart. I can't forget him and I will never forget... but why? Why didn't you come? Why didn't you send me? Why? Why Johnny...? I waited but you didn't come... you didn't...

You close your diary and smile to yourself in tears. Nothing you can do except the memories that have left in your mind. You will never be able to forget him. His smile, his eyes and his spirit. You don't think you will ever find anyone like him anymore. You wish you could go back in that time to see him again, to start it all over again.

How is he now? What is he doing? Is he still live in California? Does he still remember you? These thoughts don't stop coming across your mind. All you can do is imagine, imagine that he is alright, he is still surfing, he is still in California and he is still remember you. And you will never know that your imaginations are true or not...

END (Don't be sad I still have end credits down below)

...

Fun facts: you can skip this part lol. It's not necessary.

The diary part was inspired from my own diary that I wrote about a foreign man I met a year ago at a beach. This is the actual text: Monday, 17 July 2023 I'mma talk about my vacation boy that I met him on 12 July at ____ beach. Damn, he's my type. We accidentally made eye contact two times. He has tanned skin and pretty face. I can't remember him now omg and I have short sighted and that's fucking bad. I couldn't see him clearly. I just know that he's the most handsome boy that I've ever met on this trip. He was in the sea with an old man (his father?) I actually think he has a brother too. I just realized that these two boys were the boys that I adored when I first got to this beach before finding other beaches to swim on this island. Wish he still remembers me. Honestly, I'm not that pretty but he got my heart. I can't get him out of my mind, almost two fucking days now. Author's Note: It's really cringe but I think it's funny so I would like to share with you lol.

I love writing diary because I always forget get things so I think it's nice if I just write them down

I really have a box full of stuff, post card, and letters from my friends. I love collecting them.

My father actually loves Hotel California by Eagles and I do love California too, one of the places that I would like to live.

I wish I had an older brother 😭

Someone told me that being an only child means you have to be good at everything. It used to encourage me but at some point I felt like I'm just a girl you know I can't be good at everything. What are you expecting from me??? It's like the only child/ the oldest child thing if you know you know.

...

End credit? YES.

“Jesus! What time is it??” Johnny shouted at one of his colleagues. “It's only 7am, dude.” It pissed him off. “Fuck!” He had an urgent case this morning at 4:30am. He needed to come to the office and worked on it until the time flew so fast that he didn't notice it at first. “Why you look so hurry, man?" The guy spoke calmly to him. “I gotta go.” He grabbed his things, rushing out of the door and left the office immediately. He got the urgent case and he didn't come to surf this morning like usual. Today is also the day you left and he planned to come and sent you. He didn't even give you his contact which was the worst mistake he ever made.

It was raining when he arrived at the beach, running down the stairs and you weren't there. He looked around hoping that you might still here, sitting somewhere at the beach but then he realized that it was impossible. You were actually gone and gone forever... he looked around with tears in his eyes, trying to find you. Then, he realized that he will never see you again. The most beautiful woman with the most lovely soul he had ever met. Your laugh, your eyes, your face, your lips, everything about you is breathtaking and he will never forget those things no matter how many years will pass. This beautiful soul will be kept in his heart forever...

END (I think the end credits made it sadder.)

© satlun, 2024 : DO NOT PLAGIARISM OR ANY OTHER WAY OF REPHRASING

[kathlare]

rumor has it

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie navigates a press interview ahead of her album release, answering lighthearted questions until the conversation shifts to speculation about her connection to Lando Norris.

Wordcount: 1.1 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 9th, 2022 - London, United Kingdom

The bright studio lights beamed down on Amelie as she sat across from the interviewer, her hands clasped together in her lap. She had done a dozen of these interviews already, running through the same cycle of questions—her inspirations, the creative process, her excitement for emails i can't send finally being out in the world. It was supposed to be an easy press day, just another step before the album's global release.

And at first, it was.

The interviewer smiled warmly, flipping through their notes. —Alright, Amelie, before we wrap this up, we have a few fun questions for you.—

She nodded, offering a relaxed grin. —Go for it.—

—What’s your favorite track on the album?—

—Ugh, you can’t do that to me!— Amelie groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. —I love all of them, but right now, I’d say Tornado Warnings has a special place in my heart.—

—Interesting choice.— The interviewer scribbled something down. —And which song do you think fans will relate to the most?—

—Honestly, probably Because I Liked a Boy. I feel like a lot of people have been in that situation where their reputation is suddenly decided for them.— She shrugged. And I wonder why, she thought bitterly.

The questions kept flowing, lighthearted and safe. Until they weren’t.

—Now, we have to talk about the elephant in the room,— the interviewer said, shifting in their seat. —A lot of people are speculating that this album is heavily inspired by Lando Norris.—

Amelie’s smile froze.

Her heartbeat stuttered, her body going stiff before she caught herself, forcing an easy laugh. —What? No, no, that’s... that’s funny.—

—So you’re denying that most of the songs are about him?— the interviewer pressed, raising a brow.

Amelie’s brain was screaming, panic clawing at her throat. She could feel her hands getting clammy, her carefully rehearsed composure threatening to crack. But she was an actress. She knew how to play a role, even when she didn’t believe the lines herself.

—Of course I’m denying it,— she said, keeping her voice light, playful. —Lando and I were never a thing. We were just good friends, and that’s it. People really need to let go of this idea that there was something more between us.—

The words tasted bitter on her tongue.

The interviewer gave her a knowing look. —So you’re saying that the fans have been reading too much into the lyrics? Because let’s be honest, some of the songs sound… pretty personal.—

—Yeah, because they are personal,— Amelie said, her voice sharper now. She took a breath, trying to keep her cool. —But they’re not about Lando. Not everything has to be about some guy. I write about my experiences, my emotions. And sure, some songs are about people in my life, but this whole narrative that my album is some love letter to Lando Norris is insane.—

She forced a laugh, shaking her head. —It’s honestly so funny to me because I think people forget I actually had a life before I met him. Like, I was on Broadway, I was writing music, I had relationships. I’ve been through things that have nothing to do with him.—

The interviewer nodded, but they didn’t look entirely convinced. —So, to be clear, you and Lando never had any kind of romantic relationship?—

Amelie felt her stomach twist. The truth was sitting at the back of her throat, threatening to spill out.

We did. It was messy. It hurt like hell.

But instead, she smiled, cool and composed. —No. Never.—

She didn’t even believe herself.

—Well, that settles that, I guess,— the interviewer chuckled, clearly picking up on her avoidance but knowing better than to push further. —I’m sure your fans will be dissecting the lyrics anyway, but it’s good to have your perspective.—

Amelie just nodded, stomach churning.

The rest of the interview went by in a blur. When the cameras finally cut, and she was led backstage, she let out a shaky breath, pressing her fingers against her temple.

—That was brutal,— she muttered to Elysia, who had been waiting for her off-camera.

Her twin handed her a water bottle, raising a brow. —You okay? You looked like you saw a ghost when they mentioned Lando.—

—Yeah, well, I didn’t think they’d be so direct about it.— Amelie took a long sip of water, trying to steady herself. —I thought I was prepared for this, but it still caught me off guard.—

Elysia gave her a look, knowing her better than anyone. —Because you’re lying.—

Amelie let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. —I mean, technically, I’m not. I said what I had to say.—

—Mhm. And that’s why you look like you’re about to throw up.—

Amelie groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. —Fuck, Elysia. I just want this album to be about me. I worked so fucking hard on it, and now all anyone is going to talk about is him.—

Elysia softened, squeezing her arm. —I get it. But you knew this was coming. The moment you put those songs out there, people were going to connect the dots.—

Amelie clenched her jaw, frustrated. —I hate that they think they know everything about my life. They don’t know what happened. They don’t know what it felt like.— She exhaled sharply. —I just… I don’t want to be tied to him forever, you know? I don’t want to be the girl who wrote an album about Lando Norris. I want to be me.—

Elysia nodded. —Then you just have to own it. No more panicking, no more bullshit answers. Let the music speak for itself.—

Amelie swallowed, nodding.

But deep down, she knew it wasn’t that easy.

Because no matter how much she denied it, no matter how much she wanted to move on, there was still a part of her that wasn’t ready to let go.

[xxxxxxlovesstuff]

"Forgotten 2"

part 1

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SLS!Nora

Warning:reader is named Nora, sad ending, angst, feeling unwanted, cursing

PS:English is not my first language! no hate to the triplets

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4th of July.

The date Nora was excited about for the whole year. She was excited to see her family all together again.

But now? she would rather stay in bed the whole day. Right now she is helping Nick prepare cupcakes.

Neither of them said a world to each other the athmosphere in the house was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

„Can you hand me the flower?" Nick asked quietly. She handed them to him without word. „Okay what the fuck is going on with you?" He spoke up again „ Nothing" he voice was barely above whisper. „Yeah right" He rolled his eyes.

She ignored him again and started to decorate the outside again. Chris walked outside

„Yo! Need help with anything?" He looked at Nick and you, you both just shoked your head. „Okaaay" Chris said akwardly and walked back inside.

TIME SKIP

It was 8pm the sun was starting to set. The whole family was there.

„Hey Nor wanna go play volleyball with us" Matt sat next to her on the chair. „I´ll pass this time." Nora said simply „C´mon Nor it´s like a tradition to us." He said „Every tradition gotta break sometimes." She said getting up putting headphones in her ears.

„Where are you going sweetie" her mom asked as she noticed her daughter getting ready to leave. „i´m going for a run" She said as she left

And so she ran. She ran as fast as she could. in her ears was playin "can´t catch me now" she ran though field hoping to get away as far as it could to forget.

She finally stopped at a hill sitting down it was dark. She sat there thinking when suddenly, the sky errupted in colours.

She finally decided to go home.

The doors opened before she could reach them and out came who else then the triplets, looking very mad.

„Where the hell were you!?" Chris spoke up first „I was running" She said pushing past them „Nora Elizabeth Sturniolo you better stop right now!" Nick snapped „I can´t believe you choose to run than hang out with us" Matt raised his voice

„Oh right! Like you didn´t choose Madi over me! Like you didn´t froget my birthday. Like you didn´t call like you promised." She yelled back. the triplets stood there stunned realization creeping on their faces.

„Hey Nora we-" Nick tried but Nora cut him of

„What your sorry? Well that doesn´t fix anything Nick! I´m so fuckig done" She said going to her room and locking the doors

MATT´S POV

„We fucked up badly" Chris spoke up after long time. „Yeah man we need to make it up to her."

We went to her room but what we saw the worst thing we could.

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Hi! im sorry i wasn´t very active but im writing something new!!!

[hyperactivewhore]

If you're a Damon or Katherine fan, I really don't recommend you read this. But if you dislike them as much as me, go ahead.

I was (stupidly) one of the few people that chose to think Damon didn't rape Caroline, because Pl*c said he didn't. And like, I prefer to believe that, not because I like Damon, I despise him, but because the amount of sexual abuse this show has is disgusting.

Tyler trying to rape Vicky, Damon raping Caroline, Katherine raping Stefan, etc. And damn, perhaps even when Klaus made out with Caroline while he was in Tyler's body.

Do I think he would have slept with her? No, but the fact that Caroline had already took her shirt off and Klaus didn't stop her until later always felt off for me. I don't think he would have raped her, at all. I don't see any of the Mikaelson as the rape type, perhaps Mikael, but not even then.

But anyways, while scrolling through Google, I decided to search how Julie actually "confirmed" Damon didn't rape Caroline, and honestly it's just pathetic.

What does this even mean? Caroline herself said he abused her, AND fed on her. I mean, the quote is literally "I remember how you manipulated me. You pushed me around, abused me, erased my memories. Fed on me."

Yes, Caroline consented to sex the first time, but after that? He fed on her, and raped her as well.

And Katherine raped Stefan as well, I'm pretty sure. When she began compelling him, to "go on exactly like they wanted", he literally wasn't mentally able to consent to a romantic relationship with her, less alone sexual. And Stefan was 17, exactly the same age Caroline was when Damon raped her.

So, if I'm correct, Katherine raped Stefan, Damon raped Caroline and Andy, Tyler tried to force himself on Vicky and I think it's implied Stefan is a rapist as well in a flashback, but I'm not too sure because the last time I saw TVD (other than seasons 3/4) was in 2018, right when it ended, but the whole thing is him being seen with naked women and blood all over them while he had his humanity off I think. Anyway, disgusting.

I don't think the writers intented for them to be considered rapists, especially if we take into account the three of them are fan favorite. But it was 2009, a lot of things were taken lightly and I'm 100% sure TVD wouldn't have made it past the pilot if it had been streamed in 2020.

And yeah, every single character is a murderer on this show, but there's a difference between them. Both are traumatic and both are unforgiving, and in real life no one wants to be through that (I've seen people compare Elena and Caroline's trauma, her being raped and the first being abused by Klaus, which it's disgusting, there is no need to compare them). But if you're gonna bring one of them to fiction, always chose murder. Because in murder there may be a "redeeming" quality that explains why you did it, but rape? It's completely disgusting, it's awful and there is nothing that will ever excuse taking someone's free will like that.

But anyways: The Vampire Diaries is racist, rapist and a lot of things I'm for sure forgetting now. It's really hard to be a fan of this show sometimes, but I still like it, though I'm more of a fan of The Originals. And that show has problems of it's own, considering it made Elijah look racist and made Klaus sympathize with a group of vampires that the show recognized as nazis.

[nikimisery]

Season 1 Episode 3 - Dead in the Water

One thing I had learned in the days following the end of the wendigo hunt in Colorado, was that Dean Winchester was not shy about his love of women. He would constantly make comments about the women we saw on a daily basis, to Sam, but I will never forget his face the first time I pointed out one of my own. We had pulled into a local shopping mall. I know, Dean Winchester in a shopping mall. Dude was awkward as hell. ‘Who needs this many stores for the same article of clothing, Freya.’ But Sam and I were in agreement that I needed to get some clothes that were mine, and not torn to shit from years of wear and tear. We had just sat down at a table in the food court to eat some lunch when she walked by. Beautiful, long black hair, creamy skin, curvy in ALL the right places.

             “Holy Shit…” I trailed off as I smacked Sam on the arm. I remember I had a hard time taking my eyes off her ass, (sorry beautiful lady, but it’s true!) and I had made a comment to Sam about how I would love to spend some time getting to know that one. Dean had been taking a drink of his soda and nearly choked. “Are you okay?” I asked him.

             “What did you just say?” His face was beat red at this point and Sam was cackling in the background. When I repeated myself, Dean’s eyes lit up like the fourth of July, I swear he had never looked so excited. This boy and his love of women. But the one thing I did notice was the women his eyes lingered on were women I couldn’t compete with. Could I be okay with that?

             I was brought back to the present by Dean marking up the newspaper obituaries, searching for our next case. When he brought that pen to his lips, man I have never been more jealous of an inanimate object in my entire life.

             “Can I get you anything else?” Our waitress asked us. Wendy. Blonde. Beautiful.

             “Where did you get your top?” I asked her, biting my lip and tilting my head, as Dean just looked up and grinned, still chewing on that damn pen. But Sam interrupted before she could answer me.

             “Just the check, please.”

             “Okay.” Wendy responded, winking at me before she walked away. I turned my glare on Sam at that point and I could hear Dean’s head hitting the table beside me.

             “Dude.” Was all I said to him.

             “You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while.” Dean finished for me, pointing at the waitress walking away towards the front counter of the diner. 

“That’s like… so much fun.” I cut in, finishing Dean’s statement. Sam decided not to reply, just kept staring right back at us.

       ��     “Fuckin buzzkill.” I said. Dean’s hand found my knee under the table, giving it a quick squeeze, before handing the newspaper over to Sam.

             “Here, take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.”

             “A funeral?”

             “Yeah, it’s weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever.” Dean said.

             “Closure? What closure? People don’t just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.” Ohhhhhhhhhh shots fired.

             “Something you want to say to me?” Dean fired back.

             “The trail for Dad. It’s getting colder every day.”

             “Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?” He asked Sam, glancing at me then back at Sam.

             “I don’t know. Something. Anything.”

             “You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?” I could smell the frustration and anger coming off Dean at this point and I wanted nothing but to comfort him, but what could I do?

         “Yeah, I know you do, it’s just –“ Sam started.

         “I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?” I reached under the table and placed my hand on his leg, right above his knee. He let out a sigh, glancing at me with a nod, but said nothing more. Wendy, our cute waitress, decided to walk by our table at that moment, both Dean and I turning to watch her walk away.

         “All right, Lake Manitoc.” Sam started. I could practically hear the eye roll. “Hey.”

         “Huh?” Dean responded.

         “How far?” Sam asked, as we all got up from the table. Dean placed some money down on the table, glancing back at Wendy one more time before placing his hand on my back, guiding me out to the Impala.

         “Hey, Dean. You got any Scorpions in that collection?” I asked.

         “Who do you think I am?” He asked, grabbing a cassette and popping it in. Love at First Sting, my favorite album from the band started playing. ‘Bad Boys Running Wild’ was the name of the song.

“Out in the streets

The dogs are on the run

The cats are all in heat

Out in the streets

Snakes are all around you

Dirty rats are on their way

They control you and they'll make you play”

         “You let her pick the music?” Sam asked, epic bitch face in play.

         “She has good taste in music, Sammy!” Dean responded as I sat up, sticking my tongue out at Sam and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek. Settling back, I sang to the music as we drove down the road, ready to get a start on our new case.

Round and Round by Ratt started to play as soon as we pulled into town. We had discussed earlier in the day that we would stop at the Carlton house before we went anywhere else, so that’s where we were headed. Pulling up to the house, Dean put it in park, then started digging in the glove box.

         “Got you a present, dollface.” He said, turning around to me. He handed me a badge with my face on it.

         “Agent Fisher, huh?” I asked, glancing at the badges he was holding for him and Sam. “The Force is strong with this one, huh?” I said to Sam, taking the badge and sliding it into my jacket pocket. I had opted for a white tank with a red and blue, fitted flannel on top, skinny jeans and a pair of biker boots with a matching black leather jacket. I felt good about myself, for once. Dean opened my door for me as I stepped out, pulling my sunglasses off and setting them on top of my head as I walked up to the front door. Dean knocked on the door as I was looking around. Lots of trees. A lake not too far away from the house, which must be the lake she drowned in.

         “Will Carlton?” Dean’s voice pulled me back to the door in front of me.

         “Yeah, that’s right.”

         “I’m Agent Ford. This is Agents Hamill and Fisher.” How the hell he doesn’t get caught with these names is beyond me. “We’re with the US Wildlife Service.” He finished as he held up his ID. Will let us in the house, leading us around to where his father sat around the back of the house.

         “She was about a hundred yards out.” Will relayed to us. “That’s where she got dragged down.”

         “And you’re sure she didn’t just drown?” Dean asked.

         “Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.”

         “So no splashing?” Sam jumped in. “No signs of distress?”

         “No, that’s what I’m telling you.”

         “Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?” It was my turn to ask.

         “No. Again, she was really far out there.”

         “You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?” Dean cuts in.

         “No, never. Why? Why, what do you think’s out there?” Will asks.

         “We’ll let you know as soon as we do.” Dean said, turning to leave.

         “What about your father?” Sam asked Will, causing Dean to come to a stop beside me, turning back to look at Will.  “Can we talk to him?”

         Will just turned to look back at his father before answering us.

         “Look, if you don’t mind, I mean… he didn’t see anything and he’s kind of been through a lot.”

         “We understand.” I replied, as I grabbed Dean by the wrist to pull him along. We were making our way back out to the Impala when I heard it.

         “Hello.” Was all it said. I stopped in my tracks, looking around me, trying to find the source of the voice. My hand on Dean’s wrist tightened enough to catch his attention.

         “Hey, sweetheart, you good?” He asked me. When I didn’t answer him, he turned his wrist, grabbing mine. “Freya.”

         “I’m sorry.” I said, still looking around. “I thought I heard something.”

         “What did you think you heard?”

         “Someone said Hello.” I said quietly. “That’s weird, right? You didn’t hear it?”

         “No, doll, I didn’t hear anything.” He responded carefully, searching my face for something. What, I didn’t know.

         “I’m sorry. Let’s get to the police station.” I responded, sliding in the door he had opened for me a few seconds before.

         “I didn’t mean to startle you.” The voice came again. I glanced up at the boys, trying to figure out if they heard it, or if I was going crazy. “They can’t hear me, Freya, and you’re not going crazy. My name is Valkyrie. I’m a part of you.”

         “Good, cause that clears shit up.” I responded. Fuck. I’m talking to a voice in my head. That’s the literal definition of crazy.

         “You’ll understand who I am soon enough. Just know I’m here to help you, not hinder you. You or the two humans you are so fond of.” I bristled at that.

         “You hurt them…” I trailed off.    

     “I would sooner cut off my own arm. They are safe from me.” Valkyrie responded, then silence. The fuck just happened? Confusion clouded my thoughts. I had no idea what was happening to me or who that was, but there was an instinctual feeling, deep in my gut, that told me she wasn’t there to cause any harm, so for now, I let it go. We had a case to solve.

We had just made it to the police station. The Sheriff, Jake Devins, was talking to the boys, acting like I wasn’t even there… Annoying, but I guess it could be worse.

             “Now, I’m sorry, but what does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?”

             “You sure it’s accidental?” I asked him, reminding him I was still very much there. He didn’t even spare me a glance, so Sam stepped in as Dean placed his hand on my back.

             “Down, girl.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Breathe.” How the fuck he knew I was about to reach over that desk and throttle this misogynistic dickhead of a sheriff, I will never know.

             “Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.” Sam spoke.

             “Like what?” the Sheriff asked as we walked into his office. Pointing at the chairs in front of his desk, he spoke again. “Here, sit, please. There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake.” Sam took one chair and Dean guided me to sit in the other, electing to stand behind me with his hands on the back of my chair. “There’s nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.” The Sheriff continued. I couldn’t help it, I let out a snort at that, Dean pulling my hair lightly to get me to shut up.

    “Yeah.” Dean laughed. “Right.” Sam looked over at us at that point, his face saying everything he couldn’t. Shut up.

  “Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still –“ He trailed off, sitting down behind his desk. “We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

  “That’s weird, though. I mean, that’s the third missing body this year.” Dean spoke up.

  “I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about.”

  “I know.”

  “Anyway…” the Sheriff trailed off. “All this… it won’t be a problem much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, confusion lacing his tone.

  “The dam.” I spoke up. “It’s falling apart.” I looked up at him as I spoke.

  “Of course, the dam. It’s, uh, it sprung a leak.” He tried to cover up. Does this man read nothing?

  “She’s right. It’s falling apart, and the feds won’t give us the grant to repair it, so they’ve opened the spillway. In another six months, there won’t be much of a lake. There won’t be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that.” The Sheriff was eyeing us suspiciously at this point. But hey, at least he acknowledged my existence. 

  “Exactly.” Dean answered. A knock on the door drew our attention from the conversation.

  “Sorry, am I interrupting?” A beautiful young woman asked, stepping into the room. Sam and I stood up as she got closer.

  “Gentlemen, this is my daughter.” The Sheriff said. Guess I’m one of the boys now! Fucker.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dean.” He said, extending his arm out to shake her hand.

  “Andrea Barr. Hi.” She said as she shook it.

  “Hi.” He smiled at her. Ohhhhh that motherfucker. I was plotting all the ways I could murder him and make it an accident when a small boy walked out from behind Andrea.

  “Oh, hey there!” I said to him, waving to him with a small smile on my face.

  “What’s your name?” Dean asked him, but he just walked away without speaking, Andrea following him.

  “His name is Lucas.” The Sheriff speaks up, watching his daughter hand Lucas a box of crayons.

  “Is he okay?” Sam asked

  “My grandson’s been through a lot. We all have.” He replied as he stood, walking to the door. “Well, if there’s anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”

  “Thanks. You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?” Dean asked as we all walked out of the office into the main room of the station.

  “Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner. It’s about two blocks south.” Andrea answered him.

  “Two – would you mind showing us?” Dean asked her, making her laugh.

  “You want me to walk you two blocks?” Ohhhhh sassy… I like her.

  “Not if it’s any trouble.”

  “I’m headed that way anyways.” She told him, turning to her dad. “I’ll be back to pick up Lucas as three.” She then turned to her son before she spoke again. “We’ll go to the park, okay, sweetie?” She kissed his head before motioning us to follow her out the door. I snuck a small wave in to the boy before the door closed behind us.

  “Thanks again.” Sam said. Andrea was leading us down the street when Dean spoke up.

  “So, cute kid.” It took everything in me not to laugh out loud at that, Sam nudged me, giggling to himself.

  “Thanks.” She said.

  “Kids are the best, huh?” I couldn’t help it, I let out a small giggle at that one, causing Dean to turn and glare at me, but there was no heat behind it. Andrea just glanced at him, ignoring him as she kept walking, coming to a stop in front of the motel.

  “There it is. Like I said, two blocks.”

  “Thanks.” Sam said. She nodded at him before turning to address Dean.

  “Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” She said to him. I lost it, laughing, and turned to Sam.

  “I like her. Can we keep her?” I spoke up. She just winked at me before turning to leave, calling out over her shoulder.

  “Enjoy your stay!”

  “Kids are the best?” Sam said, making fun of his brother. “You don’t even like kids.”

  “I love kids!” Dean defended himself.

  “Name three children that you even know.” Sam and I just laughed, walking away as Dean quite literally scratched his head, trying to come up with an answer.

  “I’m thinking!” He called out after us.

  “Hey Sam, do you think I could have my own room this time?” I asked.

“I don’t see why not.” He replied before walking up to the front desk.

“The hell you need your own room for?” Dean asked, coming up behind me.

“A girl could use some privacy every now and then.” I snarked back at him.

  “Privacy, huh? What are you planning on doing with this privacy?” He asked, voice dropping low, quiet so no one could hear us. Goosebumps erupted across my skin at the sound, but I wasn’t about to let him know how much he affected me.

  “Who knows, maybe Andrea.” I threw at him, leaving him standing there with his mouth open, following Sam out the door to the car to get our bags. 

 I was sitting on Dean’s bed watching him go through his clothes. I think he was looking for one of his flannels, but he would never know it was currently in my bag, where I will wear it to bed tonight, because it is SO SOFT. Sam was clicking away on his laptop over at the table, working on the case.

             “Before we get to work on this case, can I talk to you guys?” I asked, hesitantly. Dean immediately stopped what he was doing to look up at me and Sam sat his laptop down on the table in front of him, giving me his full attention.

             “You okay?” Dean asked.

             “Yeah, I’m okay. At least, I think I’m okay…” I trailed off. “Something happened to me today outside of the Carlton’s house.” I started.

             “Yeah?” Dean prodded. “Wanna tell us what?”

             “What all does your dad’s journal say about me?” I asked him

             “You’re stalling. What happened.”

             “Does it say anything about hearing voices?”

             “Voices?” Dean responded, the look on his face didn’t help with my anxiety.

             “Never mind. I’m sure it’s nothing.” I responded, looking at the floor.

             “What, no…” Dean started, but he was cut off by Sam smacking him in the back of the head before he sat next to me on the bed.

             “What voices?” Sam asked softly, nudging me to get me to look up at him. I peeked up at him through the curtain of my hair, afraid of what I might find, but the look on his face was curious, gentle. No judgements to be found, so I glanced up at Dean, but all I found there was worry. No anger. They weren’t mad at me.

             “It just said hello, at first.” I began.

             “That’s what you were talking about?” Dean asked me, eyebrows furrowing together. Nodding, I continued.

             “After we got in the car, it spoke again. Just said that it didn’t mean to startle me and that her name was Valkyrie. She was a part of me. Said I would understand soon enough.” I told them. Looking at the floor again. I heard some shuffling as Sam’s arm came up around my shoulders, shoes coming into my view and stopping in front of me. Dean’s finger came up under my chin, prompting me to look up at where he now stood in front of me.

             “The voice, did it sound threatening?” He asked me.

             “No. She actually specifically said she wasn’t there to hurt me or the two of you.”

             “Did she scare you?”

             “No.”

             “There is still so much we don’t know about you. What you can do or what you are. There is still a lot of unknowns. My dad’s journal simply said to keep you safe, that you were special, and that there was going to be a few surprises coming our way. Before we freak out, let’s take a breath and see what happens, yeah?” Sam said from beside me. Tearing my eyes away from Dean, I looked over at Sam and nodded, trying so hard to keep the tears from my eyes. I felt the back of Dean’s finger brushing over my cheek before his hand fell away. Clearing my throat, I spoke up.

             “Fuck, I’m sorry. Okay, so what do we know?” I asked quickly, changing the subject. I felt better having told them, I didn’t want to keep anything from them. Dean especially, and I could tell they appreciated it.

             “So there’s the three drowning victims this year.” Sam started, walking back over to his laptop. Dean had gone back over to his bag, searching through it, before handing me a bandana, with a small smile. I guess I wasn’t so good at keeping those tears in as I had hoped. He didn’t call me out on it though, just turned his attention back to Sam.

             “Any before that?”

             “Uh, yeah.” Sam said, pulling up The Lake Manitoc Tribune. ‘DROWNING TAINTS ICE FISHING FESTIVAL’ the headline read. Clicking on it, another window pops up. ’12-year-old girl drowns in lake, second drowning in 6 months at Lake Manitoc.’ “Six more spread out over the past 35 years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it’s picking up it’s pace.” He finished. Dean tossed a shirt down on the bed before turning around to face Sam.

             “So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?”

             “The whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me.” Sam replied, looking at Dean as he walked over to look at the computer.

             “Why?”

             “Loch Ness, un Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing.” He started, looking back at the tribune homepage. “Whatever it is out there, no one’s living to talk about it.”

             “I’m calling ghost!” I popped off from my spot on the bed. Both brothers just looked at me, Sam shaking his head while Dean just rolled his eyes at me, looking back to the computer.

             “Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?” Dean asked.

             “Christopher Barr, the victim in May.”

             “Barr is Andrea’s last name.” I told them. Sam clicked on the link, opening up a new page on his laptop. ‘LOCAL MAN IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT.’ The picture loading to show Lucas surrounded by police.

             “Oh. Christopher Barr was Andrea’s husband, Lucas’s father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued.” Sam said, reading the link.

             “Maybe we have an eyewitness after all.” I said.

             “No wonder the kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn’t something you just get over.” Dean said, turning to look at me. He had told me about his mom, how he had witnessed what happened, and I had told him how I was in the car wreck that ended both of my parent’s lives. This case just got a whole lot harder. 

  “Can we join you?” Sam asked Andrea when we were within hearing distance of her. We had just gotten to the park and after a brief moment to look around, we had headed towards where she sat on the bench, watching Lucas color and play with his toy soldiers.  

             “I’m here with my son.” She responded. It was clearly a dismissal, but unfortunately, we had a job to do.

             “Oh. Mind if we say hi?” Dean asked, grabbing my wrist to pull me with him over to Lucas.

             “Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me.” I heard Andrea say to Sam as we walked away.

             “How’s it going?” Dean asked, kneeling down on the bench were Lucas was coloring. I elected to kneel on the grass beside him instead, but he never looks up at us. “Oh, I used to love these things.” He picked up one of the soldiers, making gun and explosion noises before tossing the soldier back down. “So crayons is more your thing? That’s cool. Chicks dig artists. Just ask Freya.” He winked at me as he spoke, pulling me into the conversation.

             “You’re pretty good, Lucas.” I began, looking at the drawings laying on the bench. “I used to draw with my older brother when I was a kid. Can we sit and draw with you for a while?” I asked him. Dean picked up a crayon, handing it to me before getting his own. I picked up the pad of paper, tearing one off for Dean and setting it down in front of him before I started drawing.

             “You know, I’m thinking you can hear us, you just don’t want to talk. I don’t know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel, we both do. When we were your age, we saw something…” Dean trailed off, looking at me, unsure of how to finish his sentence. “Well, maybe you don’t think anyone will listen to you, or, uh… or believe you. I want you to know that we will.” Dean said pointing back and forth between the two of us.

             “You don’t even have to say anything.” I began. “You could draw us a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.”

             “Okay, no problem.” Dean said after a short pause. “This is for you.” He holds out his drawing to Lucas. “This is my family.” Pointing to each person. “That’s my dad. That’s my mom. That’s my geek brother, that is this beautiful pain in my butt,” He pointed at me, “and that’s me.” He paused, giving Lucas the chance to say or do something, but there was nothing. “All right, so I’m a sucky artist. I’ll see you around, Lucas.” He said, standing and waiting for me to give my drawing to Lucas.

             “I drew this for you, Lucas.” I said, pointing down to the figure of the angel I had hastily drawn on my page. “To remind you that there is always someone there for you, no matter how you feel.” I sat it down in front of him, taking Dean’s outstretched hand, before standing up. We made our way back to Andrea and Sam, Dean dropping my hand, but moving his to my lower back to guide me back. I loved it when he did that, it always gave me a sense of security and comfort.

             “Lucas hasn’t said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad’s accident.” Andrea said as we walked up, joining her and Sam.

             “Yeah, we heard. Sorry.” He offered her. Andrea nodded her head in thanks before turning back to Sam as he spoke.

             “What are the doctors saying?”

             “That it’s a kind of post-traumatic stress.”

             “That can’t be easy. For either of you.” Sam replied.

             “We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It’s just… when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw…” She trailed off. I reached out and took her hand, giving it a small squeeze, offering comfort anyway I could.

             “Kids are strong. You’d be surprised what they can deal with.” Dean told her.

             “You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish – “ She was cut off by Lucas ducking between our clasped hands, coming to a stop in front of Dean and I. “Hey sweetie.” She said to him, dropping my hand and reaching for Lucas. Instead of acknowledging his mother, he hands a picture to me.

             “Thanks. Thanks, Lucas.” Dean said. I looked down at the picture, recognizing it, but not being able to place it.

             “Thank you for letting us talk to him, Andrea.” I said to her, touching the back of her arm, as we turned to walk back to the Impala.

             “You know, that’s the most interaction anyone has gotten out of him since the accident. I should be saying thank you to you.” She stated. I smiled at her and nodded before turning to follow the boys back to the car. Dean was waiting by my door, holding it open for me.

             “You okay?” He asked me, eyes searching my face.

             “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

             “Yeah, I’m good.” He said, squeezing my elbow as I sat down. Closing my door, he moved to the front, starting the car.

             “I swear, I recognize this picture. It’s going to bug me.” I said, looking down at the drawing again before folding it up and placing it in my jacket. “Okay, first things first.” I started back up. “If I don’t get some food, and I do mean soon, I’m literally going to turn homicidal.” I stated, breaking the tension in the car.

             “She’s hangry!” Sam yelled from the front seat, laughing at my pout.

             “Samuel Winchester.” I started. “I will stab you.”

             “Freya, you don’t scare me.” He said, still laughing at me. Dean had even joined in at this point. So instead of answering him, I let out a deep growl, my eyes turning purple. But instead of the intimidation I had hoped for, Sam just started laughing even harder!

             “Really? You’re resorting to growling at us?” Dean said. “That’s adorable. She’s like, a really angry bear cub, or something.” He said to Sam, who just turned around and ruffled my hair.

             “Looks like one too!” Sam laughed again. Huffing, I just sat back in the seat, fighting a smile at the two children in the front seat as they continued to laugh at me. I caught Dean’s eye in the rear view mirror, causing me to blush before I looked away quickly, trying not to get caught.

             “Okay, okay, let’s feed the feral creature in the backseat.” Dean chuckled out, pulling the car into a diner just down the street from the motel we were staying at.

             “I hate you both.”

             “That’s cute, princess.” Dean bit back at me, getting out and opening my door for me. Stepping out, I looked up to see he was far closer to me than I expected, the scent of pine trees and leather wrapping around me. “And the biggest lie you’ve ever told.” He said with a smirk on his face. I could tell he noticed the blush that time because his smirk got bigger.

             “Food!” Sam yelled out, before leading the way into the diner. 

A knock on the door woke me the next morning. At first, I wasn’t sure what it was, but the knock came again, followed by Dean’s voice.

             “Freya, wake the hell up and open the door, sweetheart.” He called out, his voice slightly muffled by the door.

             “Fucking hell, hold on.” I said, as I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Standing up, I walked over to the door and opened it for him to come in. It didn’t even register to me that I was still wearing what I slept in until Dean spoke.

             “Is that my shirt?” He asked, eyes trailing up and down my figure. Looking down at myself, I noticed that, yes, I was indeed wearing the shirt he was looking for yesterday… and nothing else…

             “Maybe…” I trailed off. Stepping closer to me, he lifted his hand, fingers brushing against the buttons.

             “I’ve been looking for it.” He said, looking down at me. He was close enough that I could feel the heat from his body seeping into mine.

             “Do you want it back?” I whispered, raising my fingers to the buttons. Dean opened his mouth to respond, when another knock sounded at my door.

             “Hurry up you two, I have coffee.” Sam called out from the other side of the door, effectively breaking the spell that had previously bound Dean and I. His footsteps sounded as he walked away, down to their shared room as I turned back to Dean.

             “Keep it. I like the way it looks on you.” Was all he said before turning back to the door. “Don’t keep me waiting, princess.” He closed the door with a wink as he went to join his brother in their room. I swear the air in my lungs left with him because suddenly I couldn’t breathe. What the hell was that? I’ll be honest, I didn’t have much experience in the sex department, but Jesus Christ I have never wanted to kiss someone as badly as I wanted to close that gap between us. The way he looked at me, the sound of his voice, the way his fingers grazed me… What was going on?

             ‘It’s okay, Freya.’ Came the voice. I had almost forgot about Valkyrie. ‘What you’re feeling. It’s okay. It will all make sense. That boy is special.’ She said to me.

             ‘Mind filling a girl in?’

             ‘Soon. Not quite yet. Don’t push him away.’ She responded. ‘Get dressed. You don’t want to keep them waiting.’ That wasn’t cryptic… AT ALL. Thanks, creepy internal voice… My mind drifted back to the interaction with Dean all on it’s own, no matter how hard I tried not to think about it, and I came to a decision. He liked the way it looked on me? Guess I found what I’m wearing today! It’s my turn to tease him a little bit. Pulling on a pair of tight, hip hugging skinny jeans, I threw on a low cut tank top, tying his flannel together in the front, but letting it hang open. I grabbed my converse and made my way out of my room, down to the brothers. Upon entering, Sam greeted me with a Chai Latte.

             “Holy Fuck, I think you’re my favorite Winchester.” I praised him, hold the drink up to my nose. “Is there cinnamon in this?” I asked him?

             “Yeah, mixed in, just how you like it.” I smiled dreamily up at him, thanking him over and over again.

             “Hey, I thought I was your favorite Winchester?” Dean yelled out from the bathroom.

             “Whatever gave you that impression?” I called back to him, just as he walked out, stopping dead in his tracks when he caught sight of me, his eyes zeroing in on my cleavage. He didn’t answer me, just scowled at me as I walked up to him, handing him his coffee with a smirk as Sam started to speak from behind us. He narrowed his eyes at me, fingers brushing mine when he took the cup.

             “Careful, princess.” He whispered.

             “So, I think it’s safe to say we can rule out Nessie.” Sam began.

             “What do you mean?” Dean asked him, walking past me, his arm brushing up against my back as he went. The brothers sat down as I came to a stop in front of them.

             “I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.”

             “He drowned?”

             “Yep. In the sink.”

             “What the hell? So you’re right, this isn’t a creature.” Dean started, kicking my foot with his when he heard me start to giggle. “We’re dealing with something else.”

             “Yeah, but what?”

             “I still say ghost.” I chimed in.

             “Proof, princess.” Dean rolled his eyes at me.

             “You just wait. And when it turns out I’m right, I want to hear you say it, sugar.” I said to him.

             “Okay, back to this.” Sam said with a shake of his head. “What could it be?”

             “I don’t know.” Dean started, deliberately not looking in my direction. “Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water… water that comes from the same source.”

             “The lake.” Sam responded.

             “Yeah.”

             “Which would explain why it’s upping the body count. The lake is draining. I’ll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it’s running out of time.”

             “And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere.” Dean said, standing up. He started pacing the room at that point.

             “I can say, I don’t think it’s a demon. They leave a special kind of stink in a place for months after they’ve been there. I didn’t smell anything like that at the Carlton house when we were there.” I told them.

             "This is gonna happen again soon.” Dean stated, finally sitting down.

             “And we do know one thing for sure.” Sam cut in. “We know this has something to do with Bill Carlton.”

             “Yeah, it took both his kids.”

             “And I’ve been asking around. Lucas’s dad, Chris – was Bill Carlton’s godson.” Sam informed you.

             “Let’s go pay Mr. Carlton a visit.” Dean said, grabbing his jacket before heading to the car, Sam and me right behind him. 

When we arrived, I spotted Mr. Carlton sitting out on his boat dock, when I was getting out of the car. I tapped Dean’s hand, where he had been holding my door, pointing it out to him. Nodding, he called over to Sam and started waking that way.

             “Mr. Carlton?” Sam called out, causing him to look up at us, watching us as we approached him. “We’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

             “We’re from the Department –“ Dean started.

             “I don’t care who you’re with. I’ve answered enough questions today.” Mr. Carlton cut Dean off. The sadness coming off of him was so intense it almost brought me to my knees.

             “Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there?” Sam asked. “Mr. Carlton, Sophie’s drowning and Will’s death – we think there might be a connection to you or your family.”

             “My children are gone. It’s… it’s worse than dying. Go away. Please.” The emotions he was projecting were making it hard for me to breathe.

             ‘It will pass.’ Valkyire spoke in my head. ‘You’ll get used to being able to feel the emotional turmoil the people around you are experiencing. With time and practice, you’ll be able to feel even the smallest emotion.’ With my hand on my chest, I turned away from Mr. Carlton, my eyes closed, blindly following the smell of pine trees and coffee.

             “Hey, hey, hey.” Dean caught me as I stumbled off the dock and back onto dry land. “What’s going on?” He asked me, one hand wrapped around my back, clutching my waist and the other holding my hand, guiding me back towards the car.

             “His emotions. They were so strong…” Trailed off. “Valkyire said I would get used to it, but I couldn’t breathe. I’m sorry.”

             “Stop apologizing.” He mumbled in my hair as he helped me get settled in the car. Sam had opened the door for him when he noticed my predicament. As they stood outside the door. “Emotions, huh?”

             “Valkyire said I’ll be able to feel the emotions of those around me with time, but, I could feel the pain and sadness he carried. It almost brought me to my knees.” I told him.

             “So you’re like… a human lie detector.” Dean popped off. I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood, but I could still see the tightness in his shoulders.

             “Why, you hiding something from me?” I joked back, but instead of answering me, he just chuckled at me and winked before turning back to Sam.

             "What do you think?" Sam asked.

             "I think the poor guy’s been through hell. I also think he’s not telling us something.”

             “So now what?”

             “Huh.”

             “What?” I asked him. He was looking up at the house when he answered me.

             “You still got that picture from Lucas?” He asked me. I nodded to him, reaching into my jacket pocket, pulling it out and handing it to him. “Maybe Bill’s not the only one who knows something.” He said after he unfolded it, holding it up so we could all see it. That’s why I recognized it. It was a drawing of the Carlton house.          

   “Let’s go see him.” I said.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Andrea’s voice rang out.

             “We just need to talk to him.” Dean implored, gesturing to himself and I. “Just for a few mintues.”

             “He won’t say anything. What good’s it gonna do?”

             “Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something’s happening out there.” Sam stepped in.

             “My husband, the others, they just drowned. That’s all.”

             “If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let us talk to your son.” Dean said. Sighing, she opened the door, letting us in. I rested my hand on her arm as we walked past her and into the house.

             “Thank you, Andrea.” I said.  We followed her up the stairs, where she paused at an open door, pointing down at the floor. I nodded at her as Dean and I walked into the room.

             “Hey, Lucas. You remember us?” He went unanswered as Lucas kept drawing. “You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, we need your help again.” He interupted Lucas’s drawing by unfolding the picture he gave us and setting it down on the floor in front of him.

             “How did you know to draw this?” I asked him. “Did you know something bad was gonna happen?”

             “Maybe you could nod yes or no for us.” Dean tried. But he just kept coloring.

             “You’re scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, Freya saw something bad happen to her parents too, and I was scared, we both were. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom, Freya’s parents—I know they wanted us to be brave. I think about that every day. And we do our best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.” Lucas stopped coloring at that, dropping his crayon before looking up at me and then Dean. That was the first time he actually made eye contact with any of us. Looking back down, he locates the picture he was searching for and hands it to Dean.

             “Thanks, Lucas.” I told him. 

We were sitting in the Impala, looking at the picture Lucas had given us. Too Daze Gone by Billy Squier was playing in the background as we spoke to each other.

             “Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died.” Dean stated.

             “There are cases – going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies.” Sam sprouted off. Dude is a walking encyclopedia.

             “Whatever’s out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it’s only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please.”  

             “All right, we got another house to find.”

             “Only problem is, there’s about a thousand yellow two-stories in the county alone.” Dean said.

             “See this church? I bet there’s less than a thousand of those around here.” Sam pointed out.

             “Oh, College Boy thinks he’s so smart.”

             “I was literally about to say the same thing.” I deadpanned to Dean.

             “He beat you to it, princess.” He said with a shrug. I looked over at Sam to see him looking quite smug with himself.

             “You think you’re so cute, don’t you?” I popped off at Sam but he just laughed me off before getting a more serious look on his face, turning to his brother.

             “You know, um…” He trailed off. Ohhhh insert uncomfortable conversation here, I laughed at myself. “What you said about mom… You never told me that before.”

             “It’s no big deal.” Dean said, trying to brush off the conversation. “Oh God, we’re not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?” He sassed at Sam.

             “Ohhhh I want a hug!” I piped up from the backseat.

             “Knock it off.” Dean said sternly. He caught my pout in the rear view mirror. “I’ll give you a damn hug when we get out of the car, stop pouting.” He glared at me. I broke his gaze and looked at the floor, but I couldn’t hide the smile on my face. 

                We found the house, sitting next to a little white church, just like Lucas’s picture said it was. Dean parked the car outside the house, getting out and opening my door for me, before holding the picture up, comparing it. I got out and started walking towards the house, but he grabbed my elbow, stopping me. Confused, I turned back towards him with a questioning look on my face, but he just shook his head and wrapped his arms around me, his head coming to rest on top of mine. Oh right, the hug he promised me. I pulled my own arms up around his back, squeezing him to me. I couldn’t help but melt against him, a feeling of safety coming over me and his scent grounded me. I don’t know how long we stood there, wrapped in each other before Sam cleared his throat.

             “As touching as this is, we have a case to work.” He said, smirking when Dean turned to glare at him. I didn’t want to let him go, but Sam was right. We needed to figure this out. So, reluctantly, I dropped my arms back to my side and turned back towards the house. Dean let me go, but his hand still found its way to my lower back.

             “We’re sorry to bother you, ma’am –“ Dean began as soon as the door opened. “- but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, and has a red bicycle.”        

             “No sir. Not for a very long time. Peter’s been gone for thirty-five years now.” The older woman replied before opening the door wider, letting us into the house. I took a look around, noting the picture of a little boy on one of the tables in the room.

             “The police never – I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.” She said. My ghost theory was looking better by the second. Sam pointed out the toy soldiers on the mantle to us, the exact same ones that Lucas was playing with. “Losing him – you know, it’s… it’s worse than dying.” Her words echoed around in my head, an exact replica of what Mr. Carlton had said. I could feel the sadness coming off her, but it was muted. Not as strong as it was with Mr. Carlton. It made me want to wrap her up in a hug, comfort her in whatever way I could.

             “Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” Dean asked her.

             “He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up.” I noticed Dean picking up a picture before turning it over, whispering it out loud so I could hear him.

             “Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy.”

            We had left Mrs. Sweeney’s house in a hurry after that, booking it back to the Impala. I was pretty sure that Mr. Carlton had killed Peter Sweeney and now little Peter was getting his revenge.

             “Okay, so this little Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.” Sam started.           

             “Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean asked.

             “And Bill, the people he loves, they’re all getting punished.”

             “So what if Bill did something to Peter?”

             “What if Bill killed him?” Sam asked. Hey, he caught up! Welcome to the party, Samuel!

             “Peter’s spirit would be furious. It’d want revenge. It’s possible.”

             “We need to get back to the Carlton house.” I said, causing Dean to push down on the gas. It didn’t take us long to get there, with Dean’s driving, and as soon as the car was in park, we were out, rushing to the house.

             “Mr. Carlton?” Sam called out just as the sound of a boat engine started up. We all took off running towards the dock, and I reached the end just as the boat passed. I reached out, grabbing the rope trailing off the end of the boat, wrapping my other hand around the dock post, but I couldn’t hold it for long. The rope was wet, and it slipped out of my grasp right as the brothers reached me.

             “No!” I yelled out, trying to dive for the rope again, but Dean grabbed me before I could jump after it.

             “Mr. Carlton! You need to come back!” Dean yelled after him. “Come out of the water! Turn the boat around!”

             “Mr. Carlton!” Sam yelled out. He ignored us, steering the boat out into the middle of the lake. He didn’t get far before the water rose up, flipping the boat, pulling both it and Mr. Carlton down into the lake.

             “Dammit!” I yelled out, flinging my arm into the dock post, splintering it in half. “I couldn’t hold him!” I said, trying so hard to keep my tears in. Dean walked up to me, grabbing my chin in his hand, holding my shoulder with the other.

             “Hey, this is not on you. Don’t do that.” He said sternly. I couldn’t say anything without crying so instead I just nodded, dropping my eyes to the ground. He pulled me into him, leaving a kiss on my temple before speaking again. “Let’s get out of here. Get to the police station.” He said as he walked me back to the car, getting me settled in the back seat. 

                Lucas was sitting in one of the chairs in the main room of the police station when we arrived, rocking back and forth. It was clear to anyone around that he was upset, his mother was sitting next to him holding a paper bag and a plastic container, worry in her eyes as she watched him.

             “Baby, what’s wrong?” She asked Lucas. He didn’t answer or look up, just kept rocking. “Sam, Dean, Freya.” She said, standing up, setting her stuff down in the chair behind her before addressing us again. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

             “So now you’re on a first-name basis. What are you doing here? Jake, the sheriff asked her.

             “I brought you dinner.”

             “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I don’t really have time.” He told his daughter.

             “I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?”

             “Right now we don’t know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home.” Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Lucas jumps out of his seat, looking so scared, face pale. He grabbed Dean arm and my hand, whining the entire time.

             “Lucas, hey, what is it?” Dean asked him, both of us kneeling down to his level. “Lucas,” Dean tried again.

             “Lucas.” Andrea tried.

             “Lucas, it’s okay. It’s okay.” I said, speaking as calmly and soothingly as I could.

             “Hey, Lucas, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Dean confirmed in that ‘everything’s going to work out’ voice he has. Andrea managed to pull him off us and led him out of the station, but he never once looked away from us. I could feel the terror that held him captive. It was squeezing my heart. I watched him leave, rubbing my chest over my heart. Dean’s hand came to rest between my shoulder blades, rubbing up and down. He could tell. He can always tell. Leading us into his office, Jake threw his jacket down before turning to us.

             “Okay, just so I’m clear, you see… something attack Bill’s boat, sending Bill – who is a very good swimmer, by the way – into the drink, and you never see him again?” He asked us. Sharing a glance with Sam and I, Dean responded to him.

             “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

             “And I’m supposed to believe this, even though I’ve already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you’re describing is impossible? And you’re not really Wildlife Service?” Jake stated, directing his glare to me as he finished speaking. “That’s right, I checked. Department’s never heard of you three.”

             See, now, we can explain that.” Dean started, pulling Jake’s glare off of me and onto himself.

             “Enough. Please. The only reason you’re breathing free air is one of Bill’s neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. They also claimed that a woman matching your description,” He turned to look at me again, “held the boat back, all on her own, for almost thirty seconds before he got away.” Shit. I could feel Dean tensing behind me and saw Sam take a small step closer to me. They had my back.        

             ‘Of course they have your back.’ Valkyrie pipped up. ‘They are part of your pack now, even if they don’t know it yet.’ Jake didn’t dwell on that fact, but he kept eyeing me suspiciously as he spoke.

             “So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton’s disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get in your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don’t ever darken my doorstep again.” He finished.

             “Door number two sounds good.” Sam replied before either Dean or myself could speak up.           

  “That’s the one I’d pick.” He said as he escorted us out of the station and to the Impala, watching us carefully as we got in the car and drove off.

           I was lost in my thoughts as we were leaving town, my mind was still racing with thoughts of Lucas and his behavior the last time we saw him. I didn’t feel right leaving him like that, and I could tell I wasn’t the only one having a hard time. I could feel the emotions Dean was battling in the front seat, debating with himself.

             “Green” Sam said.

             “What?” Dean answered him.

             “Light’s green.” Glancing up at the stop light we were at, Dean eased the car out onto the road, turning right instead.

             “Uh, the interstate’s the other way.” Sam pointed out.

             “I know.”

             “We aren’t leaving.” I stated. “I can’t shake this unsettling feeling in my chest.” I told them both.

             “But guys, this job, I think it’s over.” Sam objected.

             “I’m not so sure.” Dean met my eyes in the rear view mirror as he spoke.

             “If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter’s spirit got it’s revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest.”

             “All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn’t done? You know, what if we’ve missed something? What if more people get hurt?”

             “But why would you think that?” Sam questioned.

             “Because Lucas was really scared.” I cut in, Dean nodding his head in agreement.

             “That’s what this is about?”

             “I just don’t want to leave town until I know the kid’s okay.” Dean responded.

             “Who are you? And what have you done with my brother and best friend?” Sam asked, his gaze bouncing between his brother and me.

             “Shut up.” Dean popped off at him, pushing his foot down on the accelerator. 

                “Are you sure about this? It’s pretty late, man.” Sam asked us as we made our way up to Andrea’s front door. Dean was reaching for the doorbell when Lucas threw the door open. He was freaking out, clearly afraid of something.

             “Lucas? Lucas!” Dean called out to him as he turned and ran, leading us up the stairs. He ran to a door in the hallway, banging on it repeatedly. Dean followed closely behind, pulling him back from the door just as Sam kicked it in, rushing inside, sliding to a stop by the bathtub. He dove into the bathtub, arms wrapping around Andrea trying to pull her out, but Peter was determined to keep her there.

             “Freya!” Sam called out for me, needing my help, so I ran into the bathroom, kneeling next to him and reaching in to grab a hold of her. Between the two of us, we finally managed to get Andrea out of the bathtub, her collapsing across my chest.

             “Get a towel.” I said, not really caring who did it, but wanting to cover Andrea and conserve what was left of her modesty. Sam had scrambled up the moment I spoke, searching the bathroom until he found a fluffy white towel, handing it to me so I could wrap up her shaking frame. “You’re okay.” I whispered to her, rubbing her arms. “We’re going to take Lucas downstairs. Go get dressed, get warmed up. We’ll be here when you’re ready.” I told her, helping her stand and make her way to her room. It was dawn by the time she made her way back downstairs, sitting down on the couch next to me, leaning against my shoulder.

             “Can you tell me?” Sam prodded her, gently.

             “No.” Dean was looking around the room, going through different notebooks and books on the shelves.  “It doesn’t make any sense.” She continued as she started crying, causing me to wrap my arm around her shoulder. “I’m going crazy.” She said as she covered her face with her hands, her body shaking.

             “No, you’re not. Tell me what happened. Everything.” Sam encouraged her.

             “I heard… I thought I heard… there was this voice.”

             “What did it say?”

             “It said… it said ‘come play with me’.” She told him, lifting her head to look at him. “What is happening?” She asked, sobbing into my shoulder. Dean joined us at that moment with what looked like a scrapbook in his hands. He opened it up and set it down in front of us, pointing to it.

             “Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?” He asked her.

             “What? Um, um, no.” She started, shaking her head, but then she paused. “Except that’s my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures.” She was pointing to one of the pictures showing her dad standing next to Peter. I looked up at the brothers, catching Dean’s eye before he turned to Sam.

             “Chris Barr’s drowning. The connection wasn’t to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff.”

             “Bill and the sheriff –“ Sam started.

             “They were both involved with Peter.” I finished for him.

             “What about Chris? My dad – what are you talking about?” Andrea asked, sitting up off my shoulder. We didn’t get a chance to answer her because Lucas caught our attention.

             “Lucas?” Dean called out to him. He didn’t answer, just stared out the window. “Lucas, what is it?” Dean asked again, but instead of answering, he just opened the door and walked out. As we all trailed after him, I tried so hard to get a read on his emotions, trying to maybe put this newly found gift to use, but I couldn’t figure out how to focus on him. I was getting nothing.

             “Lucas, honey?” Andrea tried, and again,  we got no answer. He finally came to a stop past the trees and looked down at the ground, then up at Dean. It was clear he was trying to tell us that something in the ground below our feet.

             “You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?” Dean instructed Andrea. As she pulled him back to the house, I turned to the boys.

             “You still have those shovels in the trunk?” Nodding, they left to go get them. When they returned, they started digging, but they didn’t get very far when Sam’s shovel hit something solid, causing a loud noise to ring out in the clearing. I stepped closer, looking over Dean’s shoulder to see what they had found as the started pulling it up.

             “Peter’s bike.” Sam said, but I wasn’t listening to him. My focus was entirely on the gun I could feel pressed into the back of my head. How the fuck did I not hear him sneaking up on us?

             “Who are you?” Jake spoke up, causing both brothers to drop their shovels and turn towards us. Now, I was fairly certain, if I could survive a snapped neck, I could survive a gunshot, but I wasn’t about to take any chances with my brain stem… My eyes locked onto Dean, his jaw clenched as he glared at Jake.

             “Put the gun down, Jake.” Sam said.

             “How did you know that was there?”

             “What happened? You and Bill kill Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike?” Dean barked at him, clearly struggling to keep his temper in check.

             “You can’t bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried.” I told him. I could hear Andrea’s footsteps coming closer to us, but I didn’t dare turn around, especially when he pushed the gun further against my head.

             “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

             “You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That’s what the hell I’m talking about.” Dean answered him.

             “Dad!” Andrea called out to him.

             “And now, you got one seriously pissed-off spirit.” I finished for Dean.

             “It’s gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It’s gonna drown them. And it’s gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter’s mom felt. And then, after that, it’s gonna take you, and it’s not gonna stop until it does.” Sam informed him.

             “Yeah, and how do you know that?” Jake asked, speculation coloring his every word.

             “Because that’s exactly what it did to Bill Carlton.”

             “Listen to yourselves, the three of you. You’re insane.” Jake tried to reason.

             “I don’t really give a rat’s ass what you think of us. But if we’re gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust.” Dean told him. “Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn’t just let him go in the lake.”

             “Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea asked him.

             “No. Don’t listen to them. They’re liars and they’re dangerous.”

             “We’re dangerous? You’re the one with a gun digging into my skull.” I snarked at him, but Dean shot me a look, silently telling me to shut my mouth.

             “Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me.” Andrea begged him, causing him to turn towards her. “Tell me you – you didn’t kill anyone.” Silently, he just turned away from her, answering her question. “Oh my god.” She breathed out. The moment he dropped his gun, Dean had my hand in his, tugging me over to him, moving me behind him and Sam.

             “Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank.” Jake said, sadly. “Oh Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake.” He began, trying to explain. “But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It’s not rational.”

             “All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now.” Dean began, but I stopped him, a hand on his shoulder, pointing down towards the lake.

             “Lucas!” Jake yelled out, trying to stop his grandson from reaching the water. When he didn’t respond to us yelling at him, I took off running, trying so hard to get there in time, but just as I reached the dock, Peter reached up, grabbing Lucas by the wrist and dragging him under. I didn’t hesitate, I just reacted, diving in and swimming after him. I saw Peter, now holding onto Lucas’s ankle, pulling him down and I was able to grab onto his wrist. I tried so hard to pull him back up, but I didn’t have any leverage, and I was quickly getting pulled down with them, but I refused to let go. I kicked as hard as I could, trying everything to get Peter to let go. Seconds ticked by, but nothing was working. Right as we reached the bottom of the lake, Peter released Lucas’s ankle. I wrapped him in my arms and kicked as hard as I could, swimming back to the surface, but the world was starting to turn black, my chest was burning from the need for air, and my progress was starting to slow, so using what little strength I had left, I released Lucas and pushed him as hard as I could towards the surface, watching him float away as the world slowly lost focus and my eyes started to close. I couldn’t take the pressure anymore, so I opened my mouth and let the world go dark. 

                “It’s not your time, child. Why are you here?” I heard the voice as I was opening my eyes. Glancing around me, I found myself in a beautiful clearing, surrounded by a forest, flowers in full bloom all around where I was sitting. Looking up to find the source of the voice, I saw the largest wolf I had ever seen in my entire life, but I wasn’t afraid. She was gorgeous, long, pure white fur covered her body and she had a red crescent moon on her head, right between her eyes.

             “Where is here?” I asked her.

             “Ahh, I see.” Came her response. “You’ve just found your wolf?” She asked me.

             “My wolf?” Her eyes narrowed at me.

             “Interesting. You know nothing of who or what you are, do you?”

             “My parents died when I was a toddler. I have been on my own ever since. My friends are trying to help figure me out.” I told her.

             “Friends?”

             “Sam and Dean Winchester.” I told her. “My mother’s journal told me to find their dad, but he disappeared and now we are looking for both him and answers to my questions.”

             “Winchester…” She trailed off, getting a far away look in her eye. “They have such great destinies ahead of them, and I sense that your fate will be intertwined with them for many years to come. Trust them, trust HIM, and most importantly, trust yourself.” She said. I didn’t have to ask her who the ‘him’ she was speaking of was, I knew it was Dean. I opened my mouth to ask her why he was so special to me, why I couldn’t stay away from him, but I heard my name being called, far in the distance.

             “Dean?”

             “Our time has come to an end. Return to the land of the living, we will meet again.” She spoke softly to me as the world around me started to blur.

             “Freya!” Dean was shaking me as my senses started to wake back up. “Come on, princess. You gotta wake up.”

             “Dean?”

             “There you go, there you are, come on, come on. Sweetheart.” Opening my eyes, I found myself leaning up against Sam’s chest with Dean kneeling on the ground in front of me, hands on either side of my face.

             “What happened?” I asked weakly, I couldn’t quite lift myself off of Sam just yet.

             “You did it, princess. You saved him.” Dean answered me. “I found him, right after you pushed him up, I got him up here, Sam took him, then I went back for you. I almost couldn’t find you.” He finished, trailing off quietly. He was staring at me, but I couldn’t quite place the intense look in his eyes.

             “Are you okay?” Sam asked me, squeezing my arms. I could feel the strength returning to my limbs as I started to set up.

             "Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I’m okay.” I said, turning back to Dean, I reached up and grabbed onto one of the hands still on my face. “I’m okay.” I repeated, looking into his eyes. He didn’t answer, just nodded his head, helping me stand up. He wrapped me up in a blanket and walked me to the car, never once taking his hand off my back. “Thank you.” I whispered as he helped me sit down.

             “You don’t have to thank me.” He said, kneeling down in front of me. “Just stop dying.” He said with a roll of his eyes. He said it with a joking tone, but I could tell, deep down, it bothered him more than he was letting on, so I just leaned forward and hugged him close to me.

             “I’ll try.” 

                A knock on my door pulled me out of my thoughts about the mysterious white wolf I had met when I ‘died.’

             “You ready to go, princess?” Dean asked me when I had opened the door. “Cars packed, just waiting on you.” He was leaning against the door frame, watching me move around the room, making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything.

             “Yeah, I’m good. Let me grab my bag.” I turned to pick it up, but his arm shot out, grabbing it before I could.

             “I got it, you just worry about getting that pretty ass outside and in my baby.” He said. Of course he would make me blush, right now, when he’s so close to me and I can’t hide it from him. But he didn’t call me out on it, just reached up a finger, brushed it down my cheek before turning and leaving me standing there, staring after him. This fucking man. Doing one more check, I followed after him, picking up the brother’s conversation.

             “Look, we’re not gonna save everybody.” Sam said.

             “I know.” Dean responded. He had told me what happened while I was out. Jake had sacrificed himself to safe Lucas. It was what caused Peter to let go when he did.

             “Sam, Dean, Freya.” I heard Andrea call, turning to see her and Lucas walking up to us.

             “Hey.” Dean called back.

             “We’re glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road.” She smiled at us, looking down at Lucas who was carrying a bunch of sandwiches. “Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself.”

             “Can I give it to them now?” Lucas spoke, looking up at his mother. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled quite as big as I did at hearing his voice.

             “Of course.” She answered him, leaning down to kiss his head.

             “Come on, Lucas, let’s load this into the car.” Dean waved him over, leading him up to the passenger door.

             “How you holding up?” Sam asked her.

             “It’s just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?” Sighing, Sam answered her.

             “Andrea, I’m sorry.” He started, but she cut him off with a shake of her head.

             “You saved my son. I can’t ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that.”

             “All right, if you’re gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase,” I heard Dean speaking to Lucas, “so I want you to repeat it one more time.” Oh Jesus Christ, what was he teaching him?

             “Zeppelin rules!” Lucas cheered, bringing a smile to my face again.

             “I don’t know, AC/DC might have them beat.” I called out to them. Dean just rolled his eyes at me before speaking up.

             “Don’t listen to her. Just because she’s pretty, doesn’t make her right.” He joked. “One more time, my man.” He encouraged.

             “Zeppelin rules!”

             “That’s right. Up high.” Dean raised his hand, Lucas, grinning ear to ear, high fived him. “You take care of your mom, okay?” He tells him, more serious now.

             “All right.” He responded as his mom walked up to where I was leaning up against the car, turning to me, she leaned up and kissed me. I was shocked at first, not expecting it, but I quickly returned it, bringing my hand up to cup her cheek. I could hear Dean clearing his throat behind us and reluctantly pulled away from her.

             “Sam, move your ass.” He started, coming up behind me, grabbing me by the waist and pushing me to my door. “We’re gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road.”

             “Can’t we stay just a little bit longer?” I asked him, hearing Andrea start laughing behind me.

             “Get in the car, Freya.” He said, bending down to open the door and all but pushing me inside. As we pulled out and onto the road, I turned around in the seat, waving goodbye to both Lucas and Andrea.

             “By the way, Dean.” I started, leaning up and resting my elbows on the seat in front of me. “I never heard you admit that I was right.”

             “What are you talking about?” He asked me, irritation clear in his voice.

             “It WAS a ghost.” I told him, giggling, when he started to scowl.

             “Don’t push your luck, princess.” He replied in a gruff voice, eyes focused on the road. Sam had started laughing with me at this point, shaking his head at his brother.

             “You know, Dean, she did call it.”

             “Oh shut the hell up, you two.”

             “Someone’s grumpy.” I said, patting his cheek only to have him swat at my hand.

             “Probably because you stole his girlfriend.” Sam said before releasing another round of laughs. Grumbling under his breath, Dean leaned forward, turning up the radio and pushing me off the back of the seat, causing me to laugh some more. He was pouting as he drove, and honestly, it was the most adorable thing I had ever seen, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. I caught his eye in the rear view mirror as I got settled, his eyes softening as he looked at me.

             “Get some rest princess.” He called back to me, tossing a blanket back at me.

“And I'm moving on, movin' on from town to town

Movin' on baby hey I'm never touching the ground

Moving on moving on from town to town

Movin' on I can't seem to stop now

Movin' on I never seem to slow down.”

[1mnobodywhoareyou]

Happy birthday week! How about "maybe they're long distance and send them a whole package of their favorite things" with willex? ;D

The band drags themselves and their luggage into the lobby, grateful to finally have the opportunity to spend a few nights in proper beds with proper showers and surrounded by proper walls. They love tour life, but the difficulties of living in a bus for weeks on end were severely undersold. 

Luke walks over to the counter to check them in: two double rooms so everyone can have their own bed. 

“Is one of you Alex Mercer?” the front desk attendant asks after confirming the reservation. 

“Alex?” Luke calls back to where the group had decided to stand out of the way. 

“Hm?”

Luke nods him toward the front desk. “Apparently you’re needed.”

Alex walks over to join Luke, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m Alex.”

The attendant gives him a bored look, “Cool, something came in for you the other day. Can I see some ID?”

Alex’s confusion deepens. He exchanges an uncertain look with Luke.

Luke shrugs as he finishes signing the paperwork and accepts the keys from the clerk. 

Alex digs his wallet out and presents his ID. The clerk barely glances at it, just long enough to confirm Alex’s name, before leaving through a door behind them. 

They return with a box and place it on the desk in front of Alex. “Here you go. Enjoy your stay.”

“Thanks,” Alex says as he checks their name tag, the confused expression never leaving his face, “Naomi. Do you know where this came from?”

He’s met with a shrug, “There was just a note on the reservation. That’s all I know, sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Thanks again.”

Alex picks up the box, giving it a gentle shake, before following Luke back to the others. 

They greet him with curious expressions of their own but nobody says anything as they accept their keys and room numbers from Luke: Reggie and Luke in one room, Julie and Alex in the other. 

Alex and Julie had determined long ago that they were never rooming with the others if they had the choice. Luke doesn’t sleep and Reggie talks - whether he’s awake or not. Sure, Alex snores but Julie can handle earplugs if she needs them. It’s the lesser of available evils. 

Julie and Reggie had loaded up a cart while Luke and Alex were occupied so Alex’s arms are free to carry his new box as they make their way to the elevator. 

“Who’s it from?” Julie asks once the door closes behind them. 

“Dunno.”

“There’s no return address?”

“Oh,” Alex says softly. He hadn’t thought to look and glances at the label, narrowing his eyes in suspicion as he reads it. “Willie.”

Luke hums in understanding, “That makes sense.”

“But why?”

“Really?” Reggie asks as if it’s obvious.

“What?”

“Dude. You really don’t know what tomorrow is?”

“Tomorrow?” Alex takes a moment to think. They’d stopped being able to effectively track time a long time ago and he doesn’t honestly know tomorrow from yesterday most of the time. 

Julie starts laughing as soon as she figures it out. “Oh, of course!”

“Can somebody please fill me in?!” Alex whines.

“Alex, I know you’re tired. But really?” Reggie teases. “To forget your own birthday?” He tuts disappointedly.

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Oh no?” Luke echoes as their elevator stops on their floor, dinging their arrival. 

“Really? It’s Willie,” Alex reminds him as they file out into the hall. He holds the box up, “We’re opening this in your room.”

“Ours?!” Reggie squeaks. “Why?”

“If whatever’s in here explodes, I don’t want to deal with it.”

“Dude, he’s your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I’m with Alex on this,” Julie chimes in. “Keep the chaos in the chaos room.”

Luke groans, “Fine. But if there’s anything embarrassing in there, I get full rights to-”

“Yeah, yeah fine,” Alex interrupts. “You can make fun, whatever.”

Luke and Reggie whoop exaggeratedly only to be shushed by Alex and Julie. They pull up to their adjoining rooms and unload the cart, dumping their stuff just inside of their respective doors. 

“I’ll take the cart back and then we can see what Alex’s beau sent,” Julie offers. 

“Can’t he open the box first?” Reggie pleads. 

Julie exchanges a look with Alex, silently asking him what he wants. He nods his approval and Julie agrees with a laugh. “Of course your birthday gift requires a proper audience.”

“It’s Willie!” Reggie reminds her. “I don’t want to miss out on whatever he’s got planned.”

“And Alex started it, insisting that it needs to be opened here,” Luke adds.

Alex rolls his eyes but walks toward the table in their room, setting the parcel on it. He looks down at the tape job and then around the room. Luke presents him with a pocketknife.

“Why do you… Never mind, I do not want to know,” Alex starts to ask before changing his mind and accepting the blade. 

“It’s for my guitar strings, smartass.”

“Right and you just… always have it with you?”

“How have we been friends for this long and you not know this?”

“Guys! Present!” Reggie interrupts them excitedly. 

Alex sighs and starts slicing at tape, of which there is much more than necessary. Alex can’t quite decide if Willie was just worried about box failure or if he intentionally wrapped it like this as a prank. Neither option does much to assuage his anxiety about what he’s about to experience.

He finishes working through the tape, taking a deep breath as he sets the knife down on the table. 

“It can’t possibly be that bad,” Reggie tries to assure him. 

Alex turns on Reggie with a glare. “It. is. Willie.”

“And you love him and he loves you and blah blah blah, would you open it already?”

Alex closes his eyes as he takes another deep breath. He lifts the flaps of the box. When nothing happens, he cracks open one eye. And then the other. He slowly lets out the breath he’d been holding as he digs through the bubble wrap and packing paper. 

His confusion returns as he starts removing items, one at a time, under the watchful eye of his friends.

First is Willie’s tie-dye crop top. He absolutely does not smell it in front of his bandmates. But absolutely considers doing so in the privacy of his own room later. Mostly his room. He’ll figure it out.

Then there’s a pair of hotdog socks that cause Luke to snort and Alex to roll his eyes. He’ll never live down almost dying on street food but at least it’s entertaining for everyone else.

Two cans of Cactus Cooler that Willie knows he hates. And absolutely could have exploded due to being shipped across the country but luckily didn’t. 

Luke immediately grabs both cans, “I love this stuff!”

Alex grimaces, “You can have it, man.”

There are some bags of his favourite candy and hiding underneath everything is a mini, unreasonably soft stuffed dragon and a short letter. Alex blushes as he quickly skims it before stuffing it into his pocket before any of the others can get their hands on it. 

To remind you of home, Willie had written. Well, that explains the cans of citrus soda. Alex can’t help the smile that stretches across his face. Willie might be a prankster and constantly keeping Alex on his toes, but his sweet streak undercuts all of it. And all of those sides are what Alex loves about him.

“Oh, lovesick Alex has taken over,” Reggie teases. 

Alex responds by sticking his tongue out and gathering his gifts, except the cans of soda, and retreating to his and Julie’s room. 

If he diverges from his usual style for their show the next night, sporting Willie’s top and his new socks, well, he can deal with the talk. It’s worth it if he can feel like his boyfriend isn’t on the other side of the country for even just one night. 

And if maybe he has a new drumkit mascot for the rest of the tour, well, nobody else needs to know that at all.

birthday prompts

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hey cas.

I am Ria, (the one with two crushes)

Now I started dating with the girl I have been flirting but I still like the guy too- I thought I would move on from him but I apperantly can't because we are in same science class.

Well my girlfriend knows I am polyarmorous (thanks for helping me to figure out).

..the boy bought a perfume for me at 13 july (it's valentine type of a day here.)

So I don't want to hurt anyones feelings.

I said my girlfriend about the whole crush thing and she is okay with it as long as I don't cheat or do anything without her word (which I understand, I would never)

But she doesn't know who exactly he is because they know each other and I am scared and even though I didn't talk the boy at all after starting dating with my girlfriend and even though my girlfriend knows it feels wrong.

Should I make them meet and talk? should I completely ignore the guy? I don't know help me please.

Hi hon!

Just to clarify, you don't have to be polyamorous to have two crushes. I was just letting you know it's a thing for some people. And no matter what, feelings don't make you a bad person!

Honestly, I think this is something you need to communicate with your girlfriend about. You have these feelings, and you kind of need to see where she stands. If she's talking about cheating, it seems like she wants monogamy, at least to a certain extent. Find out what her boundaries are. Does she not want you with anyone else at all? If so, then you need to decide if this guy is worth ending your relationship for. If she's okay with some other form of open dating, then you need to be VERY good about communication. Also, I forget how old you are? I think that's a bit important in this situation. What does dating mean here? I've never been in a poly relationship, but I would imagine that they're probably a bit more difficult to navigate in like..a high school setting, so it would require VERY good communication skills. These are all things to consider, you know?

But yeah, I can't really make a decision for you, I just want to say again that communication with everyone is important. Your feelings are valid, but whatever you decide to do with them, be kind and clear, you know?

Sending love!

[innytoes]

"You know, because of colour theory" totally sounds like something Willie would say

Throwing a housewarming party for the house they bought was something that Alex had always felt would feel very Adult. Like, they had a dining room table now. This was less 'paying your friends in pizza and beer for helping you move' (though they'd done that too) and more 'inviting your friends over a few weeks later to look at how adult you were with your unpacked house and freshly painted walls'.

The dining room table was set. There were even fresh flowers on the table, because they owned a vase now. Sure, the dinnerware was still all mismatched but it was on purpose, because Alex couldn't make up his mind on what he liked and Reggie liked thrifting and Willie enjoyed the chaos of it all. It was an aesthetic choice.

They'd gotten a grill, and Ray was on the patio showing Willie and Reggie how to use it. Alex was happy to let them, since Willie loved playing with fire and Reggie loved spending time with Ray. He preferred to be in the kitchen, checking on the garlic bread, making people drinks before getting overwhelmed and Julie reassuring him 'we know where the fridge is, don't worry about it'.

He didn't feel like a real adult. Not even with the cute little house and his two handsome boyfriends - partners, all of them on the title, which was a huge step, almost as big as marriage - and his dining room table and their beautiful homemade mailbox with all their names on it.

He wondered if he ever would, looking out from the kitchen to watch their friends mingling, Carrie and her Candis taking in the gallery wall, Luke impressed with the charcuterie board Alex had made in an attempt to make it feel like a real adult party, Julie and Flynn impressed by the bookshelves they'd put up.

Two arms snaked around his waist, and Reggie pressed a kiss to his neck. "You okay, babe?" Alex relaxed into him.

"Yeah," he said. "Just thinking about how I still don't feel like a real adult."

Reggie laughed. "That's why we have Ray. Or if we really fuck up, Julie's aunt. You know, adultier adults."

And yeah, all three of the had been pretty much adopted into the Molina family, given their own families of origin were either gone or awful. They were their own family now. Maybe that was the real meaning of adulthood.

"Stop worrying and go enjoy the party, I'll finish setting the table and stuff," Reggie said, ushering him out of the kitchen.

"Don't forget the garlic bread," Alex warned him, and went to move to join people in the living room.

Except as soon as he turned around, he heard a squelch, and a gasp, and Reggie saying 'oh no'.

He whirled around to see their kitchen, their freshly painted, freshly cleaned, perfect kitchen, covered floor to ceiling in ketchup.

"What..." he managed, as Reggie stared at him with wide eyes. The glass bottle of ketchup - because glass looked more adult than the squeezy bottles, Alex remembers thinking in the supermarket - was still in his hand. "How?"

"I was gonna give it a good shake before putting it on the table!" Reggie said helplessly.

Oh no.

"I'd already loosened all the lids," Alex said. This was all his fault. He hadn't warned Reggie. And now their kitchen was ruined.

"I'm so sorry, Alex, don't be mad," Reggie started, and Alex wasn't mad at anyone but himself. Thankfully Reggie was mostly ketchup free, so Alex grabbed some paper towels to wipe his hands and pull him into a hug. Reggie freaking out would only make him freak out. Reggie buried his face in Alex' shoulder for a moment, before collecting himself.

"Oh man, it looks like a children's hospital in here," Willie said, coming in with a plate of burgers. At Alex' confused stare, he elaborated: "You know, because of colour theory?"

That did not clear anything up, but Reggie giggled.

"I don't want to know," Alex decided. "Go serve people while I clean up this mess."

In the end, they did not need an 'adultier adult', because one of the Candis knew how to get ketchup stains off of freshly painted walls. She helped him get the worst off, and saved the garlic bread from the oven, and they joined the dinner.

And finally Alex felt a little more like an adult than he had. They'd had their first minor disaster in the house and none of them had freaked out or needed to call in a Real Adult. He was taking it as a win.

[catcher-intherai]

Old writing I did about a year ago

(Word bank--

numpav- steamed buns

eat rice- kick rocks

kuy teav- breakfast soup

and putting your spoon into a cup of hot water is common practice)

This wasn’t finished because the main character is incredibly unlikeable.

You can rest now, my friend said before leaving the living room. A monsoon had blown my house apart, everything was gone, even my cat. I'd go looking for her in the morning, but for now I needed to rest. It was the middle of July, so the monsoon season wasn’t ending anytime soon. All I could do was hope, hope that the winds, and the downpour would lessen in the morning. My friend was one of those richer guys who lived on the 7th floor of the building and wow was it a nice building. I was very thankful that he took me in, but I couldn’t stay forever of course. I finally closed my eyes, hoping to fall asleep, even though his couch was uncomfortable as anything, but I was so exhausted that this brick mound of a couch felt like a cloud sent from heaven. When I finally fell asleep I didn’t have any dreams, I was too tired to dream of anything. I woke up to my friend slightly shaking me by the shoulder, “Chea, Chea? Wake up Chea!”, I pushed myself up and stretched, “what is it Nimol?”, he was already ready for work. I used to run a street food cart in the city before this monsoon blew it away, while he was some fancy shmancy business man at some big corp. “you going looking for NumPav today?'' He was very fond of my cat, he was worried about her too, I almost saw him burst into tears when I told him she was missing. “yeah, yeah, I am”, I groaned, I was still getting up. He started smiling, “I have some raw fish in the freezer if she’s hungry!”, why did he sound so damn happy, “I’ll help you look when I get out of work”, then he ran out, he had to beat the monsoon to work. I finally pushed myself up, I should probably do the same, so I slipped into some clothes I didn’t really care about, it wasn’t like I had any left after that monsoon. The winds were still roaring and the rain was still pouring, but I had to find my cat, so I ran through them, forgetting an umbrella.

The first place I decided to check was the dumpster of the local bakery, she got her name for a reason. I used to work at this bakery, and this tiny brown kitten used to stop by the dumpster and eat any leftover buns. She would do it so often without being caught that she got really fat, and smelled like pure steamed buns, so I just took her home. I needed her more than anything, she was my best friend, and she was nearly elderly, so in a way she needed me more than anything. I started to shift through the dumpster, finding no trace of NumPav. I decided the next best place to check was the shelter, even if it was more likely she learned to drive and moved to Laos then got taken to the shelter, I could hope that someone had done it. I walked in and over to the receptionist, “hello, has anyone brought in a brown cat with a blue collar in the past day?”, I was really really hoping I'd hear her say “yes! We saw this Old, Fat, Blind, cat that was surrendered last night! We’ll bring her right out for you!”, but instead she said, “no”. It was just a quick short “no”, but it was a world's worth of pain that crushed me. “well, thanks' ', after that I walked out and slumped over on the sidewalk, the rain pounding against my head. NumPav, where are you? Where are you girl?

I decided that I’d finally need something to eat, I felt selfish for wanting to eat. When my cat was out there, all alone, wet, cold, and scared, in the monsoon. It made me feel sick, almost like puking, but for my cat to get by I had to get by. I walked all the way to this cheap soup place, still looking out for my cat. When I got in I ordered a cup of hot water, green tea, and kuy teav. While I was waiting for mt food I started to cry, NumPav needed me badly, she needed me more than anything. What if someone killed her? What if the monsoon swept her away? What if she drowned in a flood? I was so worried, so worried that I didn’t notice that someone came to my table. It was a young woman, with gorgeous black hair, it was wavy like the sea and shiny like a prized gem! She had almond eyes that were a deep shade of brown, I could’ve got lost in them, forever. She was looking right at me, “is everything ok?”, she sure sounded worried, more worried than someone ever sounded for me. “I’m fine”, I was still crying, “no you’re not”, I was too sad right now, I wanted her to go away more than anything, so I didn’t respond. She didn’t leave, and instead sat quietly with me. She was wearing a uniform, so I guess she worked at this lousy place. My food finally came, I instantly dropped my spoon in the hot water, “you don’t think I clean those well enough?”, she said in a somewhat disappointed tone, “honestly, no”, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to be nice to a dish girl, but she was in the mood to put up with me. “well you sure trusted me to clean that cup and bowl!”, when she said that I stopped chewing, she was right, and it made me lose my appetite, “can you go do your job and get me a to-go container?”. She looked really upset after I said that, then she got up without a word and left to get that container. While she was doing that I pulled out my phone to text my friend, “I haven’t found NumPav yet, how many more hours until you leave work?”, I sat my phone down, and that dish girl came back with my container. She sat it down and tried to pick up my bowl to put my soup in, but I stopped her and put it in myself. Then I left. I really had to find my cat, and there was no time to waste on some dish girl. Before I could leave she called out to me, jeez just shut up women. I really did want her to call out for me in all honesty. Like I said, her beauty was heavenly, but I wanted to find my cat more than I wanted to talk to her.

I would’ve told her to go eat rice, but she grabbed my wrist, “where are you going”, I made sure to look her right in the eye when I pulled my hand away, I had to get back on my search for NumPav, maybe she was in the dumpsters of this place. So, I went over to the back and bent over the big dumpster in the back and began to rummage through it. I didn’t find my sweet cat, guess she wasn’t here, so I left. Where was she? Then my friend called me, “hey Nimol”, I must’ve sounded exhausted when I talked, but he sounded pretty damn happy,

“Hi Chea! Guess who got out early?”

“I don’t know, Hun Manet?”

“Very funny, but this time it was Nimol Tola this time.”

“how exciting…”

“yeah, I’m about to check the bakery for NumPav, where ar-”

“nice try I already checked the bakery”

“really? you went to every bakery in Phnom Penh?”

“…” he’s such a smarta** sometimes

[memberment]

Good evening

Guys I just got home from work and proofread everything I needed to including this next Dandelion chapter and I'm trying so hard not to just fucking SOB over it.

I hate it here I want out LMFAOOOOOOO THIS IS SO SAD WHY DID I WRITE THIS FR

10:59 update......

I'm thinking about an absolutely diabolical twist for the Trin series(it doesn't actually change the story in any way, if anything it actually makes it make so much more sense). Like, I've been ruminating on it since last night but idk if it's gonna throw people off. But at the same time like part twos and threes never do as good anyways so do I really even care?? Like, I'm just out here telling stories in fanfic font bc I would rather throw myself in the street than make OCs and not share my fun little stories.

I think I may commit to it.

I don't wanna say it on here though bc it's one of those plot twists you get will not forget even though part three is like FOREVER out.

The more I think about it the more I wanna do it. Someone tell me I should do it.

Oh my god I am shutting up and finishing reading Dandelion, y'all will hear my virtual screams in approximately one and a half business hours.

(11:43) I'm actually fucking sobbing and I didn't even start the last few chapters. Like, I'm actually crying over this. It's not funny.

(12:00) Never by mag lo coming on while I'm finishing up reading this is not funny. I'm devastated. I hope you all hate me after this oh my god I feel like I just ruined my own life. WHY IS IT SO MUCH WORSE AFTER BEING DONE WITH THIS FIC FOR ALMOST TWO MONTHS. Jesus Christ. Yeah. No more angst from me for a long while. I'm banned.

(12:20) Me skimming through tags on fics debating if I want to pick up something new. Everything being totally normal. Suh happy. Trying not to stew in my own misery. And then I see such a vile tag my stomach twists and now I'm just like okay I'll go fuck myself I guess I'll go write or do my homework. I'm sorry, I adore ao3 and I'm never gonna be a hater, BUT SOME PEOPLE ARE WILD. LIKE I AM TALKING SO BAD I'M ACTUALLY CONSIDERING DOING MY HOMEWORK OVER THAT. LIKE I ACTUALLY JUST WIPED THE TEARS OFF MY FACE AND GOT OVER HOW SAD I WAS BECAUSE OF HOW GENUINELY SHOCKED I WAS. Like wow oh wow.

Anyways. Updates here if there's gonna be any. Also Dandelions up if anyones reading this LMAO

It's 1:40 in the morning and the beginning of Morning Glory is making me fucking unwell. I was not joking when I made that joke about like ten dreaded weeks of angst, Jesus Christ.

(2:12) This is my second time posting this exact part. Like I know I've posted this exact part. But I seriously love Christophe and all of his dialogue with my whole heart.

(4:31) I do not recall making Dova this tragic and I'm literally about to sob over him. LIKE WHY???? WHY DID I DO THAT??? WHY ARE HIS LITTLE SUBTLE BITS OF STORYLINE SO ACTUALLY PAINFUL AS THE STORY GOES ON????? (I am allergic to happiness I am my own canon event at this point)

(4:48) THE ABSOLUTE DEVASTATION THAT COMES WITH WANTING MORE STORY BUT IT SIMPLY NOT EXISTING BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO WRITE IT IS DEVASTATING.

(5:02) Welp. I'm ruined and am now compelled by god to start working on Morning Glory again. We're at 73k rn. And only two chapters that aren't the prologue are under 4k. That's fucking terrifying. Like I have 17 minus the prologue rn. WE ARE LITERALLY THREE CHAPTERS AWAY FROM THE FOURTH OF JULY. THERE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE ANOTHER 16/17 OF SUMMER ALONE. AND THERE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE AT LEAST ANOTHER 14 AFTER THAT. LIKE THE 14 ARE THE PLANNED SPECIFIC EVENT CHAPTERS. BRUH. WHY DID I DO THIS????

regret.

regret is all I feel.

but I will push through.

(7:38) before I go to bed I will just say I am at 75.3k. I had no idea how I would even get close to 4k on a birthday chapter where the group effectively decided to just stay home and hang out. But now there is like 1.5k of them playing muffin time. It's wild. I love it. GOOD NIGHT.

[aeoki]

Seven Bridges - Prologue

Location: Yumenosaki Academy Grounds Characters: Mitsuru, Adonis & Arashi

TL Note:

Tanabata (七夕) is a star festival held in either early July or in August that celebrates the meeting of the deities Orihime and Hikoboshi who are separated by the Milky Way.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< The first year ES was established. Middle of June, Yumenosaki Academy. >

Adonis: (...It’s raining again.)

(It’s been raining non-stop recently. Is this what they call the rainy reason? It’s been quite some time since I first started living in this country, but I can never get used to the difference in climate.)

(I don’t mind the hot or the cold but the stark differences between the two countries always catches me by surprise.)

(Does that mean I have yet to fundamentally acclimate to this country?)

Mitsuru: –Habucchon!?

Adonis: Are you all right, Tenma!?

That was quite a fall. Oh no, now you’re covered in mud.

I’m sorry. I couldn’t protect you.

Mitsuru: Huh? Why’re you apologising even though I’m the one who tripped, Ado-chan-senpai? That’s weird, y’know! Ahahahaha ☆

Oh wait, I should be calling you “captain” instead of “Ado-chan-senpai”, huh! Sorry. I tend to forget that sorta stuff, y’know!

Adonis: I don’t mind either one. No matter what you call me, I’m still me.

Mitsuru: But sports clubs are pretty strict with that kinda stuff, y’know~? I’ve been doing track and field for a long time now so I know all about it!

Adonis: I see. I’m always learning new things from you, Tenma.

Mitsuru: Heheh ♪ Feel free to learn as much as you want, “captain”!

Adonis: Right. You’re always my role model.

But it’s rare for you to trip, Tenma. Did something happen? You haven’t been focused as of late.

Could it be that you’re also feeling tired because your work has increased ever since ES was established?

Mitsuru: Mmm~ I guess that’s a part of it too, but a lot of my work is stuff I’m not used to doing – like being the main character in a drama.

On the other hand, I’ve been feeling like my head’s in the clouds recently, y’know? I can’t really explain it.

I’ve always practised in the same Track and Field Club at the same Yumenosaki Academy but…

It feels like something near the roots has somehow changed.

Ahh~ On second thought, it’s really hard for me to explain! I’m not good at that sorta stuff, y’know!

Adonis: I see. I’m also not very good at telling others how I feel, so I understand.

Mitsuru: Mmm~ Maybe it really does come down to how I still can’t beat Mike-chan-senpai..

It feels like I can’t move on or get past it, y’know.

Alright, I’ve decided! We can’t practise in the rain anyway, so I’ll make a dash for ES and challenge Mike-chan-senpai to a race!

I’ll tell him, “You can’t win and make a run for it”! Completing the things you’ve gotta do one by one will make you feel refreshed, y’know!

So I’m gonna wrap up my training here and head to ES!

Adonis: All right. There aren’t that many club members who have come today. There isn’t any equipment we need to pack up.

Mitsuru: It can’t be helped since it’s the rainy reason right now, but Ado-chan-senpai– I mean, captain, you should tell the other club members to show up for club too, y’know.

They’re so unmotivated! They should learn to love track and field more!

…I guess I’m not in any position to say that ‘cause I’ve also been busy with work and couldn’t come to club, either.

Adonis: Really, what’s wrong, Tenma? You don’t usually speak in such a downtrodden manner.

Mitsuru: It’s probably ‘cause of the weather, y’know! It’s been overcast a lot recently!

Adonis: Yeah… It would be nice if it clears up for Tanabata[∗] and we can see a beautiful Milky Way.

………?

Mitsuru: ? What’s wrong, Captain Ado-chan?

Adonis: Uh… Wasn’t that Narukami up on the rooftop just now?

Mitsuru: Arashi-chan-senpai? Where, where? Whaa, the rain got in my eyes when I looked up!

Adonis: The rain is getting heavier too… Let’s go back before we catch a cold, Tenma.

It’s just club activities – it’s nothing we should be breaking our bodies for, I’m sure.

Mitsuru: Huh~? People that don’t go all-out in their club activities are useless no matter what they do, y’know!

Adonis: A never-give-up spirit for sports, huh. “Going all-out” and “overdoing it” are two different things, Tenma.

Mitsuru: Boo, boo! Ado-chan-senpai, you’ve been pretending to be a grown-up lately and I don’t like it, y’know! I don’t wanna be scolded!

Adonis: I didn’t mean it that way. But we’re also members of society who are affiliated with ES – We'll definitely need to grow up.

Arashi: …………

Adonis: Narukami.

So it really was you. What are you doing here? We aren’t allowed to be on the rooftop.

Arashi: …………

Adonis: Can’t you hear me? Tenma was also acting a little strange, but what’s gotten into you too? You’re getting poured on and your hair that you’ve always styled so nicely is ruined.

You’re not acting like yourself and that worries me.

Arashi: …Hmph. Not like me, you say? Just what do you even know about me, Adonis-chan?

Adonis: If you put it that way, I don’t have anything to say. I think of you as a friend, but objectively speaking, our relationship is a superficial one of two club members.

Arashi: I’m joking – sorry for being mean. I guess I’m just irritated.

Adonis: …Did something happen?

Arashi: Not really?

It’s nothing big. It’s not like my life is in danger or anything like that – nor did someone confess their love to me… Nothing that could change my life happened.

But it’s just that someone disrespected something important to me.

Adonis: ………?

Arashi: You know, I’ve always been used to those sorts of things, Adonis-chan.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →

[winstonhenderson]

𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟒.

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓬𝓮𝓷�� 𝓘𝓼 𝓢𝓮𝓽!

𝙎𝘼𝘾𝙍𝙄𝙁𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎

John’s Letters To Aunt Mimi

Dear Mimi,

We are in the bougie part of London, and we had such a lovely sunny March day (which is a lovely yet rare occurrence during springtime!) and we are making a motion picture. Can you believe it?! Yeah, I can’t either.

It’s fab as now people say because of us four! Gosh, I am so proud of them and me of course! Can’t forget about me!

Today was a long long day for shooting. We ultimately got nothing done… It was just a long train scene. We were all nervous. Imagine, even I, who is used to acting, got nervous. It’s a hard task to pull off a role taking upon another role. But it was fun. We had a great dinner afterwards. Georgie met this girl, and I think they will get together. You may very well have already seen the gal in a mag, Pattie Boyd, the model. She is cute, but not as beautiful as Twiggy or Doris Day or Grace Kelly. After the dinner I was a bit sad we didn’t get stuff done, but “my little friend” told me we will do better tomorrow, though I knew he was even more unsure than me. I told him “Paul if we fuck up, it’s fine, we still have each other.” Great words that. He lit up. And yeah, now I’m writing to ya… Aunt Mimi, I promise I’ll make ya proud, and make this film amazing!

Love ya lots,

John 

Dear Mimi,

we’ve finally filmed the train scene. I got comfortable with the camera and was acting like never before. Even more macho, even more humorous, even more witty. Wish you could’ve seen me, oh YEAH ya will! They say that if we continue at this pace the movie will be released in early July! I can’t wait for you to see all of our lines and our playing and so much stuff! 

To answer your questions. My boys and I are doing great and we are safe. They are not making us do stuff against our own will. We have a contract that prohibits tampering, at least that’s what Brian says. For the stores, I’ll promise I’ll go and check out some when I get the chance. I know how much you like it when I get new clothes and accessories… You just want me to enjoy things now and to spend the money I earn on fun things… Oh, Auntie. And to solve the next problem, I will take Paul with me. He has an eye for what fits me… He is my partner. I will take care of meself, I don’t always need the others or Paulie who you like to single out. Wish you could see how great the flats are!

Love ya lots,

John 

Dear Mimi,

we got a free day! So I decided to go shopping like you told me! I found some great clothes and shoes and I can't wait for you to see ‘em. One of the clothes is a yellow checkered puffy dress with a rose emblem on it, then there is a cute red dress and the combination of a white shirt with black dots and a pencil skirt. I got red pumps and black heels too! That’s done. Paul helped me choose them, he is so stylish… He and the lads greeted you!

I’m glad you are doing well, I cannot believe I forgot to ask you! John’s doing!  I’m so happy you have gone back to your hobby. I miss your hats. Can’t wait to get a new one. How are the other ladies? I hope you are talking to them, don’t get too lonely without me. Did you visit Mum? I hope you brought flowers for me too… It’s so unfair to both of us. I promise, when I come back I’ll keep ya company. I promise and you have this letter as proof I promised. I promise you as me, not my facade.

Love you,

your niece John

Dear Mimi,

everything is so bad. We are done “filming” all the scenes. Yay, I thought. But… Some scenes need to be redone. We have to “redub” some of our live singing. Why? I like it live! I love the studio but it is so stupid to dub live recordings… God, I am so frustrated. Brian and Paul don’t agree with George and me. Everyone thinks Brian is always right, well maybe he is, but this is a musical sin! They wanted to use our album recordings for it. The microphones were so bad they didn’t catch the “nuance of the Beatles playing”. What the hell are they talking about? We just strum. Still, I’m happy with the result we have currently though I am in a fight with Paul because of the stupid dubbing. Paul is so staunch on keeping his opinion, so stubborn! Well, John Winston Lennon is more stubborn than him!  I’ll show him… 

I am very glad the ladies are fine. You think of everything when you do something, Mimi. You even brought my favourite flower to bring her… You really are the greatest aunt. At these scumbags you would for sure scoff. They are so mean sometimes. And they smell bad. Money grubbing idiots. Not fit for a lady like you and Jules, but fit for me… Maybe I am filthy like them, John collects their filth… Julia remains clean. I wonder how clean can a person here be?

Love ya lots, 

John

Dear Mimi,

I’m barely able to write this letter, my rock and roll finger is hurting! Jokes aside, I listened to your solution for my fight with Paul, much to my dismay. Before that I was always on edge to beat him up and to pout at Brian. I formulated to him that what I meant was for us four to ask the film director to film all the scenes with us playing again with more cameras and better sound proofing so that the music would be live and prove to Brian that me and Geo were right. He was intrigued to say the least and gave in, after me bothering him more and more. We went to the film director and as it turns out, he doesn’t have the budget! The goddamn Beatles motion picture doesn’t have the budget! I was fuming! Paul looked like he was expecting such a response. He got on my nerves again. Though, I won’t forget he supported me then, when I argued with the film director about the footage. “No, we don’t have enough film for that.” or “Sound proofing for our sets is quite expensive, and besides that clunky.” would be heard a dozen times. Then I would say, “But isn’t a studio supposed to be acoustic?”, and he would say, “But this is a movie, mister Lennon.”. That’s a new level of dumb. So I had my little revenge. I wouldn’t want our band to waste away, so I told them that we will play everything all over again to make a unique dub for the movie as a fuck you. Weirdly enough, Brian supported me. Even if the film director felt that that was unnecessary, how could you say no to the stars of the film who could pull out any moment? That is the reason my hand has cramps. Paul is annoyed with me because of this choice but he can’t say he didn’t enjoy making a different version. I plan, during the editing phase of the movie, for us four to go explore the place some more and relax. I owe them that much for putting them up to more work.

Lots of love,

John

Dear Mimi,

London is such a big place. Me and the lads went through the entire Hyde Park. I can’t believe I didn’t take the time to explore the city before this. The nature in the parks is wonderful and diverse. The architecture is beautiful and elegant. The Rose Garden in Hyde Park is my favourite place, maybe Paul and I could write some songs there. It’s quiet and romantic, perfect for a working atmosphere. Maybe I get too caught up in music making. Exactly why I don’t explore as much as I did before. I would love to do this with Cyn someday. Maybe Paul and I should take Julian out to play... You asked if I knew how Cyn and Jules were, and I write to tell you they are fine. Cynthia is taking up some art courses and teaching Julian how to count, he is so smart! He knows how to count to five already. Of course he is my kid. He is a bundle of sunshine, really brightens up Cyn’s day, she won’t shut up about him in her letters (and who can blame her, he is very cute and funny). I envy her sometimes, she doesn’t let art consume her so much. But what is an artist if not a complicated person with layers and addictions towards their work? 

You made a hat for me! You spoiled the surprise. You know I love them! Well, I’ll try and forget it. Still, I wanted to ask if there is anything else that you wanted me to bring home? If not for you then for others? Wait, I am not falling into that hole. Gifts for others, not their requests, they are not my aunt. 

Lots of love,

John

Dear Mary,

I don’t know how to feel about your last letter. I am making a difference out here and you still bother me about that small thing! Also, you really think I’m doing this for money? No. I’m doing this because there is no other way… Even if there is, that “sham” you are talking about is giving me a way to distance myself from my feelings and write something quite logical. Even though I think we are still subpar and I tell my band that all the time, I think we are on the right track to improve ourselves. The person you call “shameful” and “selfish” has helped create great bands and improved the lives of the other members. It hurts me you think that way about me and my ideas. You don’t even want me to bring stuff if I don’t let go of my ideas. Silly Mary. I’m not seventeen anymore. I am my own man person and I decide what I will or will not do. But your angry response has led me to question what I did, so thank you very much Mary. Do you wonder if I had waited just a little bit and enrolled somewhere else I could’ve been able to achieve the same thing without my idea? If I had… I dunno, enrolled into art school like Cyn and found some friends there? More similar to me… Well, like Paul but you know how. But, I don’t think it would’ve had the same impact as the Beatles. First it was all about fun, and it still is fun, but I would’ve had fun that way too. But now. Now, it’s about impact too. The movie is edited and ready to go. With it, we have reached the big screen. The influence is a burden but we could use it! We could do something with it! I could help people, Mary! All four of us can! We could be the mirror of the society, we could embody the opinion of our demographic! And we already do! We are the demographic! Maybe I sound powerhungry, but I think we don’t need to educate people, we need to make more people aware about the faults and struggles of society! Maybe I am on a high horse but you can’t deny the facts I have brought up. The Beatles CAN change something. They CAN do it. Just believe in me, Mary. Please, Mimi.

Love ya lots,

John

Jules

Julia

Yours truly,

J. V. L.

Rest of Sacrifame

[danasevans]

Some totally random questions:

How does Hayley feel when the new babies are finally brought home and she actually has siblings in her house now?

Mickey and Maggie vs decorating a nursery and assembling the crib, are they good at this or is there Chaos?

Are Mickey and/or Hayley there when the babies first start kicking? How do they react?

lmao you can tell we were having this conversation at like 1am because i did not even realize you had send this to my inbox 😂 but my brain is firing on a much higher level now anyway so i am going to answer. all of these

with twins Maggie starts feeling the kicks earlier than she expected... they're actually having a family beach weekend in July and the cold smoothie Maggie has is exciting to the babies apparently because that's the first time she feels them moving

it surprises her and so Mickey and Hayley can tell something's happening, ironically Hayley is the one who is concerned at first until Maggie explains

Mickey asks if he can feel and Maggie says she doubts he'll be able to but he's all over her anyway

Hayley forgets about being worried because it's her duty as a 15yo to remind her parents that they're being embarrassing and also that this is kind of weird if you really think about it and mom is it weird?? it seems like it would feel weird

(Maggie says yes, but it was weirder the first time around. Mickey jumps on this by proclaiming that Hayley has always been a weird one. Hayley rolls her eyes and heads back into the water and Mickey decides this is an invitation to a splash fight)

("daaaaad you're buying my next box of hair dye if the salt water washes out the pink!" "well it would stay better if i got you a salon appointment wouldn't it?" [maggie from shore] "michael haller what are you promising her now??")

for most of July Maggie and Mickey both are still reeling from getting the news about twins (and work stuff I guess. Mickey did have quite a lot to deal with after the Trammel murder trial. it's probably better that she's arrested and hates him than walking free and obsessed with him and aware of his family??)

by the time Hayley is going back to school though they Need to start preparing and decorating

there was a moment where Maggie wanted to move; Mickey's place is pretty much a bachelor pad

but Mickey points out that they have the space and moving would be too much stress

Hayley seals the deal; she loooooves the house in the hills and the view and totally flexes the whole place when she has her friends over

Mickey claims that his gift to Maggie for agreeing to stay in place is letting her have full creative control over the nursery plans. she thinks he would've done that anyway

Maggie picks an intense jewel tone green because she says a bright color will make it easier to leave the walls solid and focus their decorating in other areas

Mickey enlists Hayley to paint with him so they don't have to hire anybody

(they could do that easily. but he has it in his head that this is excellent father-daughter bonding)

it goes well for them until he accidentally trips over a paint pan and spills it all over them both. Hayley's new jeans are ruined and she doesn't speak to him for 48 hours

("mija if you didn't want paint on those jeans why didn't you change?? hey, quit slamming doors, your mother is resting!!")

a few days later Hayley comes home from school with her jeans covered in even more paint

("yeah Luna stole a bunch of fabric paint from the art closet because the teacher is obsessed with her and even gave her her own key. And then while I was telling her and Dante what happened they both offered to come help paint. And Julia just didn't want to go back home right after school")

Mickey establishes that all four of them are in good painting clothes and then leads his new train of teenagers straight to work

Maggie is watching all this go down from the kitchen like "I have two arraignments tomorrow I'm not cooking I hope you all like takeout"

all working together, they finish the rest of the painting that night. and Hayley declares those are still her favorite jeans

this was sort of. 1.5 of the three questions here? but i think i will save maggie and mickey putting furniture together for maybe actually in the fic,,,, and other than that i do have to make food now. but thank you for the inspirationnnn

[makingshortstorieslong]

May - July 2025

Assorted notes taken while reading after the cut:

I didn't think I wanted to read the introduction, but then I considered how often recently I've finished a book and immediately thought "I need to re-read that now I know what's happening" and also that quote that I reblogged, I forget who said it, that's something like "You can only ever re-read a book" and decided that actually as much as I do want to just start reading and I do hope to be surprised by some of what I find in the text, it probably is a good idea to get whatever background is in here and have the themes pointed out. And I am actually enjoying it a lot.

Did the ancient Greeks know octopodes could camouflage themselves? There's a bit in this intro about comparing him to an octopus and it doesn't mention their camouflaging abilities but it seems apt. The intro does also make this point but again idk if Homer would've known about this. 

I didn't know Odysseus was a carpenter. Also, 'carpenter' seems to me the most apt word and I'm amused/confused the translator chose (in the intro, not the text) to write 'construction worker'. Later it's 'master builder' which, sure, yeah. I think carpenter or woodworker sound better for the things he's described making. 

The Odyssey, like the Iliad, has 24 books. Coincidence? Does the Greek alphabet have 24 letters? (Yes.) Is there a connection there?

Really surprised by the depiction of Odysseus and Penelope's marriage as being "defined...by absence, pain, economic dependence, and mutual mistrust" after what I've seen on tumblr with people waxing poetic about "homophrosyne"(sp.?)

"Plato's character Socrates" hang on hang on. I don't remember much about the Greek philosophers. Was Socrates not a real guy, Plato's student? 

Tennyson's Ulysses, Joyce's Ulysses, Walcott's Omeros

Does the English word 'mentor' come from this character Mentor (or Athena in disguise as him)? ... Etymonline says it does!!

To the deathless gods all things are possible -> this comes up a lot. It's interesting how people conceive of and rationalize the world. Yeah weird stuff happens. Terrible stuff happens. Amazing stuff happens. The gods can do whatever they want.

I love Eumaeus's storytelling. I like that the narrative addresses him directly, too. "Let us...take some joy in hearing how much pain we each have suffered. After many years of agony and absence from one's home, a person can begin enjoying grief." Ow. 

Argos 😭😭

The first time I read "Evilium" I was like. Huh, what? But the translator's note at the back says it was a coined portmanteau of "evil" and Ilium in the original Greek so I love that it works so well in English. This is now the thing that I most want to know how other translator's handled it. 

"We have our ways to recognize each other, through secret signs known only to us two." Hardened Odysseus began to smile. !!!!!!

Oh my god they invented love. Their reunion really might be my favorite part of the story. I was growing skeptical... a lot of the way Telemachus spoke to Penelope made me think I might not like it when Odysseus revealed himself to her. You know just like, the sexism. But it's actually so sweet. 

Also Athena is such a bro for stopping Dawn in her tracks and holding her off while Odysseus and Penelope catch up. Of all the assistance she gives Odysseus this is my favorite. I'd like to think he doesn't notice it - time just seems to stop while he's with his wife. If the night is unnaturally long, that's just how it should be. 

Oh cool I was absolutely not expecting the narrative to return to Asphodel

The detail this late that Agamemnon and Malaneus "had to work so hard to sway" Odysseus to go to Troy kinda got me. Like...he had to be talked into it. He had a loving wife and an infant son and a kingdom and maybe he is a cunning strategist but he wasn't leaping at the chance to go to war. Somehow they convinced him, and this is what he got for it. 

Oh I really enjoy Odysseus teasing Laertes

"Lying Odysseus replied, "I will tell you the truth completely."" lmao

I kind of want the real Mentor to show up again? I barely remember who he is, but most of the time he's been here it's really been Athena in disguise

So, Telemachus is around 20, 21. How old do we think Odysseus is? Idk when people married and had kids in this time and culture but it was probably pretty young right? So he's like, no more than 45 probably?

Oh. It's over. 

Oh the endnotes elaborate on how legend says Odysseus tried to avoid going to war. He really didn't want to go. 

I want to read the alternate version from the endnotes where "Odysseus and Penelope colluded together to kill the suitors."

I'm a little surprised but in the end I think I liked the Iliad a little more? Maybe just because more of it surprised me. And I liked the parts with the gods, they're less involved in the Odyssey.

Revisiting the translator's note from the beginning, I admire this part a lot: "I hope that my translation is readable and fluent, but that its literary artifice is clearly apparent." Yeah I think she succeeded. I like it when translations don't try to disguise themselves, too. 

I also want to talk about this part: "In an oral or semiliterate culture, repeated epithets give a listener an anchor in a quick-moving story. In a highly literate society such as our own, repetitions are likely to feel like moments to skip." 

I do appreciate the idea of using the repetitions to "explore the multiple different connotations of each epithet." That makes sense, words do not translate one-to-one from one language to another, so if the epithet can be translated many ways and interpreted a little differently in different contexts, I love that the translator would make the decision to translate the same word differently rather than choose one English word to translate the one repeated Greek word and sticking to it inflexibly. 

I also noticed some of the changes to the repetition were to keep the meter - she found dozens of different ways to translate the arrival of Dawn, which I think was probably originally all the same phrase, or maybe with only a couple of variations. 

But I do miss the repetition? There were a few phrases, but not many. I'm contrasting it with The Iliad as translated by Caroline Alexander. That might not be fair, though - The Iliad and The Odyssey are different. Maybe one day I'll pick up Wilson's translation of the Iliad to compare her translation style and Alexander's. 

But yeah when reading the Iliad I sometimes felt moved to read it out loud, and I didn't with this. I liked the repetitions, I liked trying to imagine hearing it recited out loud with those anchor points throughout. I don't think I would mind if the translation ended up being longer than the original. It's probably fair to cut some of the repetition - I have absolutely no way of knowing how much was in the original and she does make a good point about modern readers - crucially, readers, not listeners - taking repetition as a place to skip - but I don't feel like enough was left in for me to get the feel for it as an oral tradition. 

The opening stanza still absolutely rules. And I can't list all the lines I loved, though I wrote down some. Anyway. Now I've finally read the Odyssey. Time to go re-read Percy Jackson and the Olympians: the Sea of Monsters with an understanding of the source material! Oh, and listen to Epic, and check out that Hearthbound podcast...