#catching a flight later and i’ll be entertaining myself with thoughts of them

[canopicfemme]

kobylu on the brain today THEY’RE SO CUTE

[https-harlow]

Fight The Feeling Prologue-2 Like on a date? Yeah, like a date.

Summary- Jack surprises you with a trip to the Bahamas as your first date where you have your first kiss.

Word Count- 3k

With you and Jack both being busy, the next time you saw each other was a couple weeks later when you both happened to be in the same city. You had the day off except for a flight you had to catch later in the day and Jack had a last-minute studio session and he invited you to join him. You agreed, telling him you could only stay a couple hours before you had to leave.

Though this was the first time you’ve seen each other, you two had talked frequently, sending each other texts throughout the day every day since you met, and the occasional facetime when you both had time. You had talked to Urban too, but like you had told Jack the night at the hotel, Urban wasn’t really your type. Though you hadn’t told Urban that, you didn’t flirt with him like you did Jack, you just hoped he got the hint eventually. You still wanted to be friends with Urban, you just never saw yourself being with him in that way.

You never really thought your relationship with Jack would go very far either, you were both extremely busy, and sure you could make time for a relationship, but you weren’t sure if Jack wanted that with you. You thought maybe he did, if you were just a hookup, he would have tried to hook up with you the night you stayed in his hotel, but he didn’t. As much as you liked Jack, you didn’t want to get your hopes up and end up disappointed. 

Jack didn’t have many people at the studio with him, and luckily, he had already gotten whatever he needed to be done before you showed up, because Jack’s, and Urban’s, attention went directly to you. Everyone in the room noticed but no one commented on it until you walked out of the room for a moment.

“Who is that?” Clay asked Jack and Urban.

“I told you its Y/N. I introduced her to everyone when she got here.” Jack said and Clay shook his head.

“I know that I mean who is she to you guys, I’ve never seen you two so into someone.”

“We’re just friends.” Urban said. 

“Yeah, I’m just friends with her too.” Jack insisted. 

“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.” Clay said. “For one of you.” He added underneath his breath.

“I heard that.” Jack said.

“Kind of meant for you to. Watching you two fight for a girl’s attention is quite entertaining, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it before.”

“We don’t need to fight over her attention, I talked to her first so Jack should let me have a chance first.” Urban argued.

“You only talked to her first because I was distracted. We’ve been over this.” Jack argued back. 

“Yeah, this will be entertaining for me.” Clay said, laughing softly. “If I had to bet on it, my money would be on Jack, she doesn’t seem as interested in you Urb.” Clay said before turning back to his laptop as you walked back into the room. 

You stayed for a couple more hours before you had to leave for the airport. Jack offered to walk you out to the car that was picking you up.

“When do you go back home?” Jack asked you.

“I fly home Thursday, why?” You asked, turning towards him.

“Can you fly back here instead?” Jack asked. “I have the weekend off, I’d like to take you out, if you want to, of course.” 

“Like on a date?” You asked, smiling softly up at him.

“Yeah, like on a date.” Jack smiled.

“I’d like that. I can change my flight.” You told Jack.

“Good, I was going to be sad if you said no..” Jack laughed softly.

“It’s just a good thing I have the weekend off too otherwise I would have had to. I’m pretty sure Claire would kill me if I canceled something this last minute for a date.” You joked, making Jack laugh as the car pulled up.

“Let me plan something, and then I’ll give you the details as soon as I know them myself. Keep your weekend free, I have an idea.” Jack said and you laughed softly, nodding.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a couple of days then.” You said. You and Jack hugged goodbye before you left. 

You let Claire know to get your flights changed and the next day you got a text from Jack with an address. 

“Let me know where you’re staying, I’ll pick you up Friday around noon.” Jack sent. Of course, the first thing you did when you received the address is look it up. The only place that came up was the airport.

“Jack, you know you sent the address of the airport, right?” You texted back.

“I know.” Jack responded.

“What are you planning?” You asked and within seconds you were receiving a facetime call which you answered immediately.

“You know how you said your favorite place you’ve been was the Bahamas?” Jack asked and you gasped.

“Jack. Are you serious?” You asked and Jack laughed softly, nodding.

“I am. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I wasn’t sure if it would be creepy asking you to get on a plane not knowing where you’re going as a first date.

“Now I know why you told me to keep my whole weekend free. You didn’t have to do that, I would have been completely fine with just hanging out or going to dinner.” You told him and he laughed softly.

“Well, we can go to dinner, in the Bahamas.” Jack said.

“Fair point.” You laughed softly.

“I know it’s a lot for a first date, but I thought since we’re both busy, it would be nice to take a weekend and just relax.” Jack explained. You could tell in the short few weeks you had been talking that Jack spent a lot of time on work, so it meant a lot to you that the time he did have off, he wanted to spend with you.

“Our first date wasn’t the night we met?” You asked and Jack shook his head.

“Nope, neither of us planned that.” Jack said.

“We hung out all night, ordered pizza and I stayed in your room even though it would have taken me 2 minutes to go back to my own room, kind of seems like a date to me.” You teased Jack.

“Did I say it was a date?” Jack asked.

“No.”

“Did you say it was a date?” He asked.

“I just did.”

“Nope, that doesn’t count. So, it wasn’t a date.”

“Fine, if you think so.” You teasingly rolled your eyes, making Jack laugh.

“I do think so. Plus, if that’s your standard for dates, then I need to work on getting your expectations up.” Jack teased.

“It’s not that, I just don’t expect anything big, especially for a second date.” You said and Jack raised his eyebrow, making you laugh. “First date. Happy?” You teased and Jack nodded.

“I just want to show you that I like you. I don’t want to just hook up with you and never see you again. I don’t even want there to be an expectation that we hook up this weekend. I just want you to feel special.” Jack said and you smiled softly.

“I like you too, you know that. Honestly, you making time to facetime me every day, even though you’re busy and working, makes me feel special already.” You admitted, making Jack smile.

“I’m glad it does.”

“I’ll send you the address of my hotel in a little bit, but you don’t have to pick me up, I can just meet you at the airport if you want.” You told him and Jack shook his head.

“Nope, I’ll pick you up.” Jack insisted and you nodded.

“If you insist.” 

“I do insist. When do you land?” Jack asked.

“Like, midnight. I already have a ride back to the hotel before you offer.” You said and Jack nodded.

“That might have been where I was going.” Jack laughed softly. “I have to go, but I’ll call you later.” Jack told you and you nodded, both of you saying goodbye before you hung up.

Almost exactly Friday at noon, you heard a knock on your hotel room door. You smiled, assuming it was Jack, and you answered the door.

“Hi.” You smiled, Jack smiling back.

“Hi.” He reached out to hug you and you hugged him back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” 

“Are you ready?” Jack asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Let me grab my bags.” You said and held the door open so Jack could step inside for a minute.

“I’ll get them.” Jack offered and you let him, because if there was anything you learned about Jack, it was that if he offered to do something, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Also, your bags were heavy.

You and Jack ended up in the backseat of a car, Jack’s driver driving you to the airport.

“This isn’t too much for a first date, right?” Jack asked, looking over at you.

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, I can’t believe you did all of this, but I don’t think it’s too much.” You said and Jack sighed in relief.

“Good. I’ve just never met a girl I like as much as I like you, I don’t want to scare you off.” Jack said.

“You haven’t scared me off, if you had, I wouldn’t be going on a trip to the Bahamas with you. You’re closer to scaring off my best friend Madison then me. She had me give her everything, hotel, your name, your phone number, practically everything I know about you. Plus, it’s a second date anyways.” You laughed softly.

“Damn, that’s smart, all I got from Urban was a “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do”. It’s a first date, but I’ll let it slide.” Jack said, laughing softly.

“And what wouldn’t Urban do?” You asked and Jack thought.

“Honestly, I feel like there isn’t much he wouldn’t do, so that’s not great advice.” Jack said, making both of you laugh.

Once you arrived at the airport, Jack’s driver got your bags out of the back while the two of you got out of the car. You both thanked the driver before you both got led onto the plane, sitting down next to each other.

“Oh, I made dinner reservations for about two hours after we land.” Jack told you.

“Jack, you can’t just throw something like that at me without notice.” You half joked and Jack laughed softly.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing fancy. It’s just at some random restaurant I found near the resort. I did get us a private room though.”

“I’m not sure if I can believe you when you say it’s not fancy.” You teased Jack.

“It might be a little fancy, but you don’t have to dress up, I promise.” Jack reassured you.

One flight, some random conversations, and a car ride to the resort later, and you and Jack were in your room. You both got ready for dinner, neither of you dressed up, but you did put on something fancier than the sweatpants you had on for the flight. 

“Ready?” Jack asked, offering you his hand.

“Yeah, I am.” You smiled at him, taking his hand as you stood up from the couch. Jack led you out of the room and down to the lobby. Jack had already called a car, so you didn’t have to wait to be picked up. 

During your date, you and Jack continued to get to know each other. You felt like you got to know each other from your facetime calls and texts, but this was different. It felt a lot more comfortable than the night you met. 

You ended up being at dinner a lot longer then either of you expected, you talked about where you grew up, what got Jack into rapping, what got you into modeling, your families, your childhoods, what you wanted for your futures, any random topic you could think of. 

Once you left the restaurant, you and Jack decided to walk back to the resort instead of getting a car. You walked down the sidewalk, your hand holding Jack’s. 

“We should get ice cream.” You suggested as you walked past an ice cream shop, Jack nodded.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Jack agreed, and laughed softly as you smiled excitedly, pulling him gently towards the store, Jack followed close behind you. You stood in line, Jack standing behind you as you slightly leaned into his chest. Jack wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on the top of your head. After a minute you turned in his arms, so you were facing him, the two of you making small talk.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you guys are adorable.” The couple that was behind you said, they were about your age. You both hoped that they didn’t recognize who either of you were, and luckily, they didn’t, or at least if they did, they didn’t say act like it.

“Oh, no problem. Thank you.” You said, and Jack smiled softly at you.

“How long have you been together?” One of the asked, both of you awkwardly laughing.

“Oh, we’re not really together.” You said.

“It’s our first date.” Jack clarified.

“Well, you two would make a cute couple.” They said before it was your turn to order. Jack let you order first, and then he placed his order. You tried to pay, but Jack didn’t let you.

Once you both got your ice cream you walked back to the resort, ending up on the beach that the resort was located on. You sat in the sand as you finished your ice cream, finding a random trash can nearby to throw your trash away before you ended up back at the same spot you were sitting at before. You were telling Jack about where you had gone to in the Bahamas previously.

Despite Jack paying attention to what you were saying, but he couldn’t help but let his eyes fall to your lips before moving back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” Jack asked and you nodded, smiling softly at him.

Before you could say anything, Jack was leaning over and kissing you gently. You deepened the kiss after a moment, loosely wrapping your arms around Jack’s neck. Jack let his hands rest on your waist. Jack gently led you to his lap and you followed his lead until you were practically straddling his hips. Jack pulled away first, both of you taking a second to catch your breath.

“I wanted to do that all night.” Jack admitted, blushing lightly, leaving his hands on your waist.

“And I wanted you to do that all night.” You said, letting one of your hands move to the ends of Jack’s hair, running your fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t want to do this on the first night, and I know it might be a little soon, but I don’t want to wait. Will you officially be my girlfriend?” Jack asked, and you nodded.

“Of course, I will Jack. I’ve been yours since I agreed to go on this trip with you.” You said.

“I just wasn’t sure, after the ice cream shop, you know?” Jack said and you nodded. 

“I just wasn’t sure if they knew who we were, and we hadn’t talked about it ourselves. I like privacy, and I know you do too, so I just didn’t want to risk it.” You explained.

“I get it, I’m not mad.” Jack reassured you. “You’re right, I do like keeping things private. You just scared me with your answer.” Jack laughed softly.

“I mean it, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t already yours.” You said.

“I wouldn’t be here either if I wasn’t yours. I wouldn’t put this much effort into someone I’m not seriously interested in. You just happen to be someone I am seriously interested in.” Jack said, making you smile, kissing his lips softly before you pulled away.

“I really like you, just don’t make me regret it.” You said. You had told Jack previously about getting your heartbroken in a relationship before him.

“I won’t I promise. I really like you too.” Jack said, kissing you again.

The rest of the weekend was spent mostly at the beach together. While you both loved the trips you had to take for your work, you both admitted that the weekend trip to the Bahamas was the most fun you’ve had on a trip. 

You spent the weekend completely ignoring anything except each other. Though you did send a few texts to Madison because if you didn’t, she would have started to panic. Luckily for the both of you, no one you interacted with recognized you because neither of you thought about the rumors that would start if someone had and you both wanted to avoid any rumors.

You and Jack got to know each other on a deeper level then you had before since a majority of your contact previously had been texts and facetime calls. What started as a crazy idea for Jack and a trip with someone who you liked but you weren’t sure your relationship would lead anywhere, ended as something special for you and Jack. Even though it might have been too early for either of you to admit it, you both fell in love on the trip. 

When it was time to leave, neither of you wanted to. You both could have stayed there forever, but unfortunately Jack had to work. You had a couple more days off though, so you flew back with him and stayed with Jack for a couple more days.

Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree

[therandomavenger]

Flight of Ideas

A lot of people like to ask writers, and other creative types, ‘Where do you get your ideas?’ And that is, in many ways, the wrong question. I, like many other writers, have a thousand ideas before breakfast (to plagiarize Lewis Carroll). Coming up with ideas is not the problem.

At least, it’s not the problem the way the people who are asking about it mean it. Ideas kind of follow me around like a swarm of butterflies, and it can be an effort to catch one or two of them and put them in my pocket without completely destroying their wings.

Actually, that sounds like a terrible thing to do to butterflies. I regret this metaphor (yes, I know it was technically a simile).

What I mean is the problem has always been too many ideas, not a lack of ideas.

And yes, I know there are some writers who struggle with idea generation. We’ll get to that later. I know I am not speaking for all writers here.

I described this whole ‘butterfly swarm of ideas’ thing to my psychiatrist and one point and he looked at me, really concerned, and adjusted his glasses before dropping this bomb on me: ‘Chad, that sounds like a symptom of mania.’

Oh.

Shit.

He went on to explain, and I did some research on my own, and … welp, he’s right.

Flight of ideas: A rapid speech or mental pattern with abrupt topic changes characterized by loosely connected or unrelated thoughts. Flight of Ideas is commonly observed in manic episodes of bipolar disorder, reflecting a manifestation of disorganized thinking and elevated mood.

–Austin Rausch, MS, LPCC, LICDC

Welp, there’s me told.

And I do tend to have a lot of ideas when I’m entering a manic episode. It’s one of the signs. If I plot out three seven-book fantasy series in one evening, you know a storm’s-a-comin.’ In those cases, I will also throw in a couple of life-changing career or education goals, as well as start focusing on about five home improvement projects. Also, I might decide to launch a podcast? I’ll definitely order all the equipment for it! These things all seem to happen at once.

But I kind of don’t want to see the ideas themselves as the problem. In a manic state, it’s hard to decide which ideas are worth pursuing and which are hot—but entertaining—garbage. But there are always some gems in there, and I wouldn’t want them to go away. I kind of see this is not so much a symptom of mania, but as a gift of mania.

And really, it’s a gift that keeps giving even when my mental state is closer to a healthy baseline. I tend to have a lot of ideas for stories. When I was reading only novels and series, it was novel and series ideas, now it’s just as likely to be shorter ideas, and now that I am in Art school, ideas for visual projects. There’s a lot of them. I’m writing them down in my spare moments. I refuse to see this as a problem.

I sat down one day and wrote down a list of books I wanted to write. These are somewhat developed ideas that I thought were strong enough to be viable. I stopped writing the list when I got to 27.

Now, this isn’t really a problem. Will I write all 27+ of these books? Maybe, maybe not. I mean, time might have a vote in this, but I’m not that old. If I write 3 books a year, which I’ve been doing for the past couple of years (and some of these are novellas) it would only take me 9 years. I’ll barely be 60.

What I’ve decided to do is write some basics outlines for these books and do what I do best: put them on a schedule! Now, my schedule doesn’t have dates on it because that makes me put way too much pressure on myself. My schedule is basically a list. And I have solid plans for the next 7 projects.

               Finish World Enough and Time (current WIP, standalone sci-fi romance novella)

               Write Blood of the Saints (post-apocalyptic standalone fantasy short story/novella)

               Write The Lion and the Sparrow (standalone fantasy novella)

               Write Valley of Storms (Ascension Apocalypse book 2)

               Write Seeds of Hope (standalone sci fi novella)

               Write The Glittering Tomb (The Circle and the Shadow book 2)

               Write Stars Without End (Broken Stars finale)

3 of those projects short. I hope. These are all ideas that I’ve developed to the point that I am ready to start writing them. I have many others in more nascent stages. And clearly, I have not taken the advice that says, ‘Finish 1 series and the move on to the next.’ I know that’s good advice. But my muse has adhd (obviously) so here we are. Also, no traditional publisher in their right mind is going to let me do things in this order, Ursula Vernon/T. Kingfisher’s career notwithstanding. So, thank God that self-publishing is an option.

And this is just the writing. I have Curse of the Onyx Heart (The Circle and the Shadow book 1) basically ready to go as soon as I order the cover. And Beneath the Silent Stars (Broken Stars book 5) will go to the editor in March. I’m hoping World Enough and Time will be ready to publish by November.

So … I have a lot of ideas. I’ve learned how to snag hold of them and develop them to the point that they work as complete stories. I’m learning how to do that with art as well. I refuse to see this as a symptom of mental illness, or if it is, thank God there’s no cure.

As for the people who tell me they struggle to come up with ideas, I don’t have much advice, except to say you need to be absorbing all sorts of stories in various media, and figuring out which ones speak to you and why. That will help you find your own unique voice. You also need to be going out into the world and having Experiences. Work some crappy (but not abusive) jobs. Take a trip that scares you. Fall in love and get your heart broken. There are many experiences that are out there waiting for you and many of them don’t even cost any money. You have some sort of internal antenna that needs to be out, collecting signals, or, if you like this metaphor better, you need to be looking for the butterflies and carrying a net to catch them with. You find what you’re looking for (thanks, reticular activating system!), so if you’re looking for ideas, they will come to you. That may mean you need to change from being a passive observer of what is happening to someone who is always trying to figure things out, and maybe even putting themselves in the middle of the action. Or develop bipolar disorder. That’s what worked for me!

A Flight of ideas might be a symptom, but it is also a gift. And I’m glad that I’ve been given treatments for my mental illness that have not taken this away from me. I would miss it. It feels like a vital part of myself. I don’t know who I would be without it.

[wizkiddx]

this deleted itself but the req was for an ill reader who likes to try and carry on even if they feeling shit and tom noticing I think?!?

Summary:  you take start to feel a bit shit  at toms family barbecue and get caught out and taken care of

///////////

It should've be lovely, an evening in the rare but much appreciated British summer sun in Dom and Nikki’s garden. Everyone was there; all the Holland boys; both sets of Tom’s grandparents; Haz and his long time girlfriend Lucie. It was a reunion of sorts, although no one had been away working, you’d somehow all timed your individual holidays simultaneously. You and Tom to Australia; Sam and Harry to south-east Asia; Paddy, Dom and Nikki to Sweden. Having all returned in the space of a week, everyone was catching up, involving great British barbecues (which are always a little disappointing) and a fair amount of booze.

You were sat on the garden furniture with Tessa (Tom’s grandma), Nikki and Lucie. Very much a ‘girl power’ meeting if ever there was - which in a family full of boys was often needed just to keep the peace. Everything about the evening was lovely… except perhaps your body. God knows why, because you rarely got ill - having not had a day off work in two years. As much as you’d been trying to push away the slow creeping feeling for a couple of hours - it was now getting impossible to ignore. The slightly unsettled feeling in your stomach had you fidgeting in the wooden chair constantly, trying to ease it by shifting positions... to no avail.

“Y/n… Y/n?” Looking up to see three pairs of beady eyes trained on you, you faked a smile, looking over to Nikki who had been calling your name. “Tess was asking how long the flight back was?” “Oh sorry, was miles away!” You tried to cover, shifting once again, this time pressing a hand to your lower abdomen in the hope that’d distract you as you turned slightly to make eye contact with Tessa. “And I think 11 hours ish.” The girls all pulled a grimacing face in sympathy, to which you chuckled at. “No no honestly cos Tom spoiled me completely so we were in the fancy seats, I honestly was spark out of it the whole time!”

It was enough of a response for the girls to all nod, carrying on the conversation as you, now not the main focus, rubbed your pulsing temple with your other hand - in the hope to relieve some of the building pressure. Clearly, though, you weren’t a subtle as you thought - since Lucie got your attention by bumping your shoulder and leaning in closely. “Come to the loo with me?” It sounded like a question, though it very much wasn’t - the stern look in her eye enough to scare you into agreeing. With a word to Nikki and Tess, you both stood up and made your way to the inside, not stopping until you were locked into the thankfully spacious downstairs loo - the brunette eyeing you intently. “You look like shit.” “Thanks Luc, that’s exactly what I needed to hear right now.” You sighed, sitting on top of the closed lidded loo heavily. “What’s up?” Her tone was harsh and to the point, but secretly there was a look of worry in her eyes. She was one of your best mates but sometimes could also scare you shitless. “I think I’m just tired, it’s my stomach and my head, I’ll be fine.”

Lucie didn't really seem to believe you, but respected your stubbornness and after providing you with two paracetamol capsules from her bag, she let you off - both going back into the garden, where, by now Sam was plating up the slightly charred burgers.

Naturally, you’d sat next to Tom, who had pulled your chairs right next to each other - so that his leg was pressed up against yours, his arm pulled around your shoulder. That was just Tom, away from the prying eyes of the public and media, he really was an affectionate person. He just liked to feel you there. God knows how long you all sat in those same positions, but it was long enough for the sun to set. In fact, you most definitely weren’t the person to ask, because at some point, unbeknownst to you, you’d zoned out. Nobody had noticed, under the cover of the low sunset light, until Tom felt your head briefly fall against his shoulder before it shot up once again - your eyes blinking heavily.

He frowned at the sight, seeing you huddle your arms across your body, which was bizarre due to the unbelievable hot weather in London. Yes, it might have shifted into nighttime, but it was still at least 24 degrees. So as his Dad had the entire table captivated recounting some long and complex tale of his touring days, Tom took the opportunity to squeeze your shoulder - grabbing your attention.

“You alright love?” In response you just hummed, eyes shifting up to him after a little delay - similar to how your reflexes became stunted with alcohol, though Tom suddenly realised you’d barely had more than half the glass of beer he’d poured you when you’d both arrived. “ I’said are you okay?” “Yeh… yeh I’m fine.” You forced a small tight lipped smile, whilst Tom took his arm that was round his shoulder to rest on the crown of your head before slowly stroking down your hair. “Sure? You seem a little out of it?” He pushed, still in a whisper so as not to draw attention to the two of you. “Maybe just tired.” Flat out lying, you shifted back into the backrest of the chair a little more making his hand accidentally land on your forehead rather than your hairline. He didn't move it though, instead sitting and swivelling in his chair, pressing the other side of his hand to the skin as well. “You’re burning up Y/n/n” he spoke a little louder - eyes full of concern as he looked you up and down. “No I’m a bit cold if anythin-“

That was when Nikki, from across the other side of the table got involved. She’d obviously been silently observing the two of you, now feeling the need to send you both home. “Oh, we forgot dessert! Tom, Y/n would you mind helping me bring it out?” Thank god for Nikki, for finding a cover story and stopping everyone's eyes on you. Because for someone dating, three years deep, an A-lister - you hated any sort of attention, even from those closest to you. Especially sympathy, you had absolutely no time at all for that.

Leading you into the kitchen with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, Tom waited till the door was shut before turning to you.- claiming you were boiling and looked not so great. “I’m just a bit cold if I can borrow one of sam’s jumpers then-“ “Love, please go home.” Nikki interrupted as she wormed past Tom to put her own hand on your forehead too. “You’ve got the chills and you’ve not been normal all day. Am I right or am I right?” She was the worst to argue against. That was completely due to the fact she was always right. With a defeated nod from you, she clicked her tongue, pushing you to sit down on one of the barstools. “Tom go get a jumper from Sam’s room and order a taxi, I would drive but we’ve all been drinking.” “I can just go back by myself T, you don’t get to see your grandparents a lot and -“ “I love you but please please shut up.” Having rounded the back of your chair he pressed his lips to your temples as confirmation before scurrying off to the back of the house.

“You know he doesn’t mind at all? My son never was at my beckon call like he is with you.” There was a little smile teasing the corner of her lips as Nikki placed a glass of water in front of you, as though instructing you to take small sips. “I just feel bad, he’s always telling me how he regrets not spending more time with all of you and… well I’ve had him to myself for the fortnight in South Africa.” “Your just as much a part of the family as me or his grandparents are okay? Now when you get home..”

Nikki switched the tone to then list off all manners of ways that you needed to look after yourself once back, which she then repeated as soon as Tom returned with a black hoodie that you gratefully pulled over your head.

//////////////

By the time you got home, you were feeling so incredibly shit you weren’t even considering keeping up your brave face. Tom had wordlessly led you up the path to your shared home, unlocking the door and telling you to go straight to bed.

Perhaps he was so concerned because in the whole three years together he’d never ever seen you ill. Yes, the odd headache or whatever, as well as the occasional morning after the night before when you’d opted for a ‘tactical chunder’ to try and protect your modesty. But other than that, you were always the one being sympathetic to him. When he was tired, both emotionally and mentally from work; when he hurt his knee and was on forced bed rest for a couple of days ( which turns out to be the hardest time for you too, dealing with the whiny and fidgety boy man).

He came up a couple of minutes later, by which point you’d already pulled joggers on and wrapped yourself as tightly in the duvet as physically possible. If felt so bloody cold your teeth were actually chattering as you curled up into the smallest ball possible. In his hands was a small tray, carrying a steaming mug; a collection of all the different pill packets you kept in the medicine cabinet (as Tom himself had no idea which one was right so decided to use them all); a hot water bottle and what looked like a damp towel, all scrunched up.

No matter how shitty you felt you had a smile at how sweet and doting Tom was being... and as much as you hated the sympathy - if it was always given by a ripped and beautiful brunette with the sharpest jawline you’d ever seen… well just maybe you could get used to it. After snatching the hotwater bottle up immediately, then letting Tom fuss over you in every which way he wanted you gave in, losing the ability to entertain his puppy energy.

“Can we just go to sleep please?” You whined, which Tom nodded to - quickly getting changed and ready before joining you in bed.

As soon as he felt the way the bed was practically vibrating with the chills you were suffering from, he pulled you up into his chest. Now you had both your own personal heater and a hot water bottle to try and warm you up. “You wake me up if you need anything kay?”

Pressing a kiss into the crown of your head, which was nestled between his shoulder and neck. “Promise me ‘kay?” Him needing the reinforcement caused you to arch back up, looking deep into his brown eyes with the warm glow of his bedside table lamp. “You’re too good to me Tommy.” He tutted at that, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.

“Oh no” He whispered exclaimed, making you immediately ask him what in response. “I think this fever is making you go all delusional love.” You quirked your head, causing him to continue with a cheeky grin. “Well for one, nothing would be too good for you darling and two…. When the hell have you ever called me ‘Tommy’” With him chuckling at his own joke, you rolled your eyes at his cheekiness, firmly planting your head back on his shoulder as if to shut him up. “Alright, I’ll let you off just this once cos your all feverish… get some sleep love.” “Thankyou Tommy.” “Shh love.”

And that’s how you fell asleep, finally finding a bit of warmth in Tom’s arms.

Safe to say he very much didn’t sleep so well. Yes, you felt cold - but Tom was bloody boiling. Still he didn't move because if you were comfortable, his discomfort didn’t matter. It was also a physical impossibility for him to relax until he felt (yes, technically not the most scientific way) your fever coming down. Every five minutes or so he’d gently press the back of his hand to your forehead. This boy was so whipped for you... but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~feedback is really really appreciated~~~~

taglist for tom: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @Ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8

[high-functioning-lokipath]

Strange Times - Dr. Steven Strange x Reader - Words: 2,225

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Sorry if Dr. Strange is a bit OOC because I'm not SUPER experienced with his character but I wanted to give him a shot! Hope you like my other fandom references 😜 Let me know if you pick up on them!

"Y/N," Hawkeye said, walking up to you. "You've got a mission." Your eyebrows raised dramatically as you lifted your gaze from the bowl of cereal you were currently consuming. 

"Me?" You asked mid-chew. Clint rolled his eyes at your manners, or lack thereof, but nodded. 

"You're ready," He assured you. Him, along with the other Avengers, had been training you now for the past few months. While your control over your power had greatly improved, you still weren't completely confident in yourself. "All it involves is catching a guy who'd been working in Research and Development on one of Stark's projects. He apparently decided he could get more money if he stole it and sold it to the other side so we need to catch him before the deal goes through. He should be landing in Madrid now. The deal is set for tomorrow morning. You have until then."

"Okay," You said slowly. "I guess I'll get ready then?" 

"Yep!" He chirped, grinning brightly. You grumbled about the lack of prep time and stalked away trying to hide your nerves. You got dressed and left in record time. The small jet you'd been assigned for your mission had the location pre-entered, thanks again to Hawkeye, so you reviewed the file during the flight. 

"Great!" You groaned, going off on a rant to yourself as you kept reading. "He's stolen an unstable prototype of a personal time travel device! How was this guy not checked out before? Matt Smith doesn't sound suspicious at all!" The computer on the jet beeped at you and you saw that you were approaching the landing site. Quickly putting the file away, you prepared for the inevitable confrontation. Once you landed you carefully made your way to the small hotel Smith was supposedly staying in for the night. Your first obstacle, of course, was persuading the clerk to let you look at the guest list. Once you did, however, you quickly snuck up to his room on the 3rd floor and went in.

"Well well well," You heard someone say once the door closed behind you. You whipped around and saw a shadowy figure in the corner. "I mustn't have made a very strong impression if the Avengers sent me fresh meat. Poor girl. You have no idea what you're up against do you?" He flicked a light on and you saw the prototype in his hand. 

"You're right. I don't. But neither do you," You retorted. Concentrating on the barriers of the room, you lifted the gravity in it while keeping yourself grounded. "You have no idea what I'm capable of," You smirked. "So why don't we make this easier on the both of us and you hand it over now?"

"Well, you make a good argument. But how about no?" He smirked back. You felt a click around your wrists and were suddenly pulled back against the wall. "I have heard of you, my dear," He sneered. "So I was well prepared for any of you." As he revealed the small propulsion device he was wearing, he started gliding towards you, no longer affected by the lack of gravity in the room. "I don't really want to hurt you," he said. "I just want you to watch as everything you've ever known is destroyed!" As he continued monologuing, you noticed orange sparks appearing behind him. At first you thought he was activating the device. But moments later, the sparks turned into a circular portal and a tall man with a red cape stepped through. 

"Hand over the proto-whoa!" He yelled as he was inadvertently affected by your gravity manipulation when he entered the room. His cape though seemed to react and started flapping, pushing him back towards the ground. "As I was saying," He said, clearing his throat and trying to regain his dignity. "Hand it over." 

"Why should I, Strange? Of what use is it to you?"

"Doctor Strange!" You thought. "That's who he is!" You'd heard of him before but had never met or seen him. While you did wonder why he was there, you were awfully glad for the help. 

"I was bored and needed some entertainment," He shrugged. "Now if you don't mind, I'll be taking that now." Strange reached out to grab the device out of the man's hand but you noticed Smith was going to try to fly away. You quickly adjusted the gravity again, keeping everyone on the ground. 

"Hey!" Smith yelled. "That's not nice!" You rolled your eyes and Strange easily snatched the device from him. Smith struggled to reach for it but Strange smirked. 

"Be a dear?" He said to, apparently, his cape. The cape flew off his back and curled it's one corner around the device. It then hovered up near the ceiling, out of reach. 

"So that's why Stark said his costume was creepy," You thought, chuckling lightly. Strange glanced at you oddly but didn't address it. 

"Could you-" He trailed off, motioning slightly around him.

"Oh! Sure!" You replied quickly, letting the gravity return to normal. Smith immediately tried to get away but Strange pulled out an odd glowy rope and whipped it around him effectively restraining him for the moment. 

"Not so fast," He said to the man. Turning to you he motioned for you to come closer. He made short work of the cuffs on your wrists before transferring them to Smith' own hands. "Ok, off you go," He said, opening a portal in front of the man. He unceremoniously shoved him through and closed it behind him. "He'll be taken care of," Strange said to you, motioning for the cape to return to him. He then handed the prototype back to you.

"Thanks," You mumbled, feeling quite silly that you couldn't handle the mission on your own. "Why did you come here anyways? Did Stark or one of the others send you?"

"No, I came on my own. You see, I keep a watch list of individuals and beings from all realms that may be a threat to this world. When Mr. Matt Smith there stole that device, he jumped to the top."

"Oh," You said. "Well, I suppose I'd better get back. I'll probably need to debrief and should probably train a bit more so I can handle myself better next time."

"You did fairly well for someone without much experience although you certainly need more training." You rolled your eyes at his statement. Having heard of his reputation for being snarky, however, you weren't all that fazed. "Perhaps you would like to come to the Sanctum with me? I'm quite sure we have a book that could help you." Now that surprised you. You didn't expect him to be nice at all. Maybe he's not as bad as Loki said he was. 

"So, is the Sanctum a fancy library and you're the fancy librarian?" You joked. He laughed and shook his head.

"The Sanctum is much more than that and Wong is the fancy librarian!" He grinned. He opened a portal in front of you that, apparently, led to the Sanctum. Before stepping through it, though, you remembered your own transportation.

"Oh! Actually I have a jet I came in. Can we take that back? I just know I'll be read the riot act if I leave it behind," You said.

"That would be fine," He replied. "Besides, it will give us more time to get to know each other better." A light blush rose to your cheeks as you followed the Doctor out. 

"Am I crazy or is he flirting with me?" You thought. "Crazy, definitely crazy." As you kept walking, your internal monologue also continued. "He is quite handsome though," you mused. "Kinda looks like that guy from the tv show BFF/N watches."

"Nice cape," You commented, trying to make conversation. The cape seemed to bristle at your comment and he smoothed it softly at his side. 

"It's a cloak, not a cape. And it's the Cloak of Levitation, an ancient relic." 

"Oh," You said quietly. "Sorry."

"Quite alright. It's easily confused to the untrained eye." He paused for a moment before adding, "And thank you." You smiled slightly and continued walking in silence.

"So what's your name?" He asked, once you got in the jet. 

"My name-name? Or my made-up name?"

"Both," He replied, entering the Sanctum's address into the computer. 

"Well, my name is Y/F/N, but I go by Andromeda Nova, or Nova for short."

"Not bad," He said, sitting down in one of the chairs. "So tell me about yourself, Nova." He'd taken off his cape before he sat and now it was hovering near him. 

"Alright," You said nervously. You were slightly intimidated by the more experienced superhero who suddenly seemed to be interrogating you but you went ahead with telling him your story of how you got your powers.

"So you went to the Avengers for help?"

"Yes. I had no idea how to control it and, well, everyone that I had been friends with before were afraid of me except for BFF/N." You giggled slightly and smirked. "I guess you could say you met me at a very strange time in my life." He laughed heartily at your pun and you relaxed a bit. As you continued telling him about your training with the Avengers, you decided to take off your own cape and tossed it over a nearby chair. Eventually, however, you got tired of just hearing your own voice since he kept asking you questions rather than speak himself. "Do you mind if I put on some music while we talk?" 

"Oh not at all!" He replied excitedly. You grabbed the tablet that controlled the sound system and scrolled through the library.

"Any preferences, Strange?"

"Whatever you want." You nodded and scrolled a bit more before finally hitting shuffle on one of your favorite playlists. "And, you can call me Stephen if you want." Seconds after the song started, he smirked.

"Waka Waka, Shakera, 2010." Your jaw dropped, eyebrows raising comically. "Surprised?" You nodded, speechless. "Let's try another, shall we? Computer, next song." The next song started and now it was your turn to grin. Just before he opened his mouth, you beat him to it.

"Ride, Twenty One Pilots, 2015. Computer, next song." He raised one eyebrow, impressed, before closing his eyes to concentrate on the next song. 

"Just The Way You Are, Bruno Mars, 2010," You said at the same time. He smiled widely and let the song continue for the moment. Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you got up to look, almost doubling over in a fit of giggles. 

"Should we be concerned?" You asked the doctor, who seemed just as shocked as you when he walked over to see what you were looking at. Apparently Cloak had gotten the dancing bug and decided your cape would make an excellent partner. 

"I have no idea," He replied, biting back a laugh. "It's been a while since he's been with another cape, so," He trailed off, both of you laughing once again. "Wait, is yours a cape or a cloak?"

"Whatever it is, he likes it!" You exclaimed, watching the odd waltz continue. Once your laughter calmed, you noticed he was staring at you. You cleared your throat and looked at him questioningly. "That, um, that's a lovely dress. A, uh, very nice color," He said quickly, stumbling over his words. 

"Uh-huh, sure," You said, sarcastically.

"Really! It is!" He cried, embarrassed that you caught him staring.

"Yeah, well, my BFF keeps saying it's the same color as Sherlock's purple shirt of-woah!" You suddenly were thrown off balance as Cloak flew over and shoved you toward Stephen, who, of course, caught you before you fell. 

"I'm so sorry," He quickly said. "Apparently he needs a reminder that, while he is the Cloak of Levitation, he's not my wingman." He said the last part in almost a hiss, directed at the offending object. Cloak shrugged and, if it had eyes, you were sure it would have rolled them. 

"It's quite alright," You assured him. Realizing you were still in his arms you blushed brightly. "Maybe I should-"

"The music's still playing," He interrupted.

"And?"

"May I have this dance?" He smirked. 

"I suppose," You sighed. "But only because I think you'll be a better partner than capey over there." Cloak, who was still nearby, reached out to whack you for your comment. Strange quickly whipped open a portal instead in front of the fabric and you heard a yell from the other side before Cloak quickly retreated and he closed it. 

"Who was that?" You asked.

"Cloak may or may not have just accidentally slapped Wong's backside." Cloak crossed what you supposed was his arms and had the audacity to look upset. You shook your head and chuckled lightly. 

"I have a strange feeling we'll get along just fine," You smiled, holding your hands out to him for your dance. He smiled back and took your hands, swaying gently to the music. 

"Only time will tell." 

In An Unidentified Location Only One Portal Away

Matt takes a look around to make sure no one is watching him. "Well, it would seem my work here is done," He said, grinning to himself. "Toodle-oo!"

Marvel (all characters) Taglist

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@whatafuckingdumbass

@ladylulu143

@lokislittlesigyn

@gaitwae

[casspurrjoybell-20]

Sky Twizzlers - Chapter 13b

*Warning Adult Content*

Alpha Laurence’s Revenge - Part 2 - Aaron -

Erin and I stayed outside for a bit before we decided to head inside and go our separate ways. I went straight to my room to look for my mates. Before opening the door, I heard more than two voices, which made me frown curiously. Opening the door slowly, I saw that Kit and Wren were inside with Aubrey and Evander.

"Aaron. Evander said we're going to Japan, is that true?" Aubrey asked me excitedly.

"Yeah, we are," I confirmed, stepping inside and closing the door.

"Kit said he wants to come," Aubrey piped up.

"He probably shouldn't. It'd be safer for him to stay here with people protecting him," I said with a shake of my head. 

"Sorry, Kit."

"It's okay," he said, idly stroking one of his tails.

"I'm surprised you didn't volunteer, Wren," I spoke up, sitting down on the bed.

"I don't think Joshua wanted to leave and I figured I could still be useful here. If I see anything important, I'll be sure to contact you," he said, offering a pointed look.

He meant that he'd contact me in a dreamscape. That reminded me that I should probably explain to my mates that I, too, had abilities like Wren. Ugh, that conversation already sounded tiring in my head. But, they deserved to know. 

‘They also deserve to know something else I'm hiding from them.’

Please, don't think about that now. I didn't want to add something as dumb as that to my plate right now. Deep down, I knew that putting off telling them would hurt in the long run. How much longer until either one of them tried proposing intimacy? Or even went in for something like a kiss? How much longer could I pretend that I was normal?

"Aaron?"

Evander's whisper right by my ear shocked me out of my thoughts. I looked at him with a questioning gaze. 

"What?"

"You were spacing out. Is everything alright? You didn't follow me after the meeting ended," he asked.

"I'm fine," I stated simply.

‘No, no I'm not fine. But, I can't explain that to you just yet.’

"I'll leave you guys alone. Joshua said he wanted to take me somewhere anyway. Come on, Kit," Wren spoke up, hopping off the bed.

The two left, leaving my mates and me alone. Evander walked over to where we'd put his suitcases, pulling them out and putting them on the bed. 

"We should pack accordingly. Since we're not doing anything right now, why don't we start?"

"We still have at least two days before we go. Why so early?" I asked, flopping back on the bed, packing sucked.

"It's better to do it now than leave it for the last minute," Evander explained, already packing his clothes into one of the suitcases.

"But we just unpacked," I groaned.

Evander's chuckle made my cheeks redden a bit. Weirdo. I was glad he'd dropped the subject, though. Packing was more bearable than talking about my feelings.

*******

I was right.

‘Of course, I always am.’

We weren't set up to leave until three days later. We had to wake up at an un-Godly hour to catch our first flight to the west coast where we would catch another flight to Japan. I was not looking forward to being on a plane for hours on end. I'd only done it a few times and it was never out of the country. Evander seemed accustomed to it and helped Aubrey and me the entire time. Thank Goddess for immortal beings who like to travel a lot.

However, Evander couldn't help me deal with the other people joining us on our trip. Erin was annoying as ever but Alpha Laurence made me want to throw myself off one of the planes mid-flight. He was insistent on getting a first-class seat because he was ‘the proper adult’ even though a few of the others who volunteered were also ‘proper adults.’ He also made the entire trip even more stressful with his constant complaining and nit-picking.

Thankfully, Aubrey and Evander kept me entertained enough so that I wouldn't jump to my death or tear out Alpha Laurence's tongue. By the time we arrived in Japan, I was at my wit's end but that was okay. The trip was over, time for the hard part.

"Wow," Aubrey whispered in awe, looking around.

We'd decided on Osaka as our place to begin looking since Evander told us that was nearest to the portal Rin told him about. We didn't have much time to look around because we were all exhausted and wanted to rest in the hotel we'd booked but from what we'd seen, Osaka was beautiful. 

By the time we got to the hotel and into our rooms, though, I was ready to drop dead. I couldn't even bother looking around the room provided for the three of us. Aubrey was already slowly closing his eyes as he sleepily made his way over to the bed with his suitcase dragging behind him.

Before he dropped, Evander grabbed his suitcase and guided the sleepy nymph into bed. Aubrey passed out shortly after that, luckily dressed in some sweatpants and a comfy shirt he'd borrowed from Wren. I, too, was ready to follow him when Evander gently tapped my shoulder. 

"Let me take your suitcase. Take off your shoes and go to bed. I'll unpack."

I nodded my head, letting him take the luggage as I took off my shoes silently. 

Do you think we'll find anything?" I asked.

"I hope we do but I also secretly hope that Rin isn't the one contacting us. If he’s in danger...," Evander admitted.

"I get it," I said.

I crawled into bed after that and Aubrey snuggled into me almost immediately. We fell asleep to the sound of Evander unzipping the suitcases and pulling open drawers to put stuff away. 

‘Tomorrow, our search begins.’ 

[salvador-daley]

Quarantine (Part 1)

Robert Sheehan x Reader

A young starlet finally lands what she hopes will be her big break. But first she has to endure two weeks locked up with her annoying co-star

CW: Smut, of course. Plus a lackadaisical attitude to airline safety protocols

The flight is a little delayed, so you wheel your Louis Vuitton case into the airport lounge and order a glass of champagne. You pick a table by the floor-to-ceiling glass window overlooking the terminal concourse and pull out your book, trying to ignore that tight knot of nervous energy growing in your stomach. You hate flying and your anxiety only seems to get worse the more you do it. 

Is it too soon to take one of my pills? you think. Probably. The flight could be delayed even longer and then you’d only end up falling asleep in this armchair and missing it altogether. 

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you barely register the tall man entering the lounge and sauntering towards your table, only fully becoming aware of his presence when he drops his slightly tatty leather rucksack at your feet. 

“Hello there!” he says brightly in an Irish accent, slumping into the seat opposite uninvited. “I believe we’re going to be working together soon.” 

You look up and see the familiar face of your new co-star smiling back at you. He’s wearing a designer duffle coat that could just as easily be from a charity shop and a slightly see-through sweater that appears to have been purchased from the womenswear section. You note that it bears several holes around the neckline. 

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you,” you say, extending your hand and introducing yourself.

“We’ve met before actually, at Nancy’s New Year party last year,” he says, shaking your hand, his various beaded bracelets jangling.

You smile at him blankly. You spent that entire party sucking up to a producer who would later tell you that you were “a little too provincial” for a part you wanted, whatever the fuck that means.

“Anyway,” he says after an awkward beat, “I’ll bet you’re looking forward to being locked up in quarantine when we get to the other end.”

“Oh, I dunno,” you sigh, “I think maybe two weeks of peace and quiet sounds pretty nice. I’m quite good at entertaining myself and it’ll hopefully give me a chance to look over the scripts again. What about you?” you ask.

“I’ve come prepared,” he says, opening his coat to display a dog-eared copy of the Bhagavad Gita poking out of his inside pocket.

“Hindu scripture,” you say, raising your eyebrows. “That is some hardcore reading material.”

He leans forward: “Oh, I’m sure it’s no less hardcore than…” he lifts your book away from the table to look at the cover, “Jackie Collins! Now that is hardcore,” he says, giving you a devilish look.

“Don’t take the piss,” you say, snatching the book off the table and shoving it in your bag. “It relaxes me, I’m a bad flyer.”

You lean back and cross your legs, catching him as he steals a glance at the strip of flesh between your thigh-high boots and your leather miniskirt.

“You’ve dressed for comfort, I see,” he says, using his eyebrows to indicate your outfit.

“I’m not about to end up on the front page of TMZ in my jogging bottoms,” you scoff.

He sighs and leans back in the chair, shoving a hand into the pocket of his... jogging bottoms.

“Not everyone can pull them off,” you add quickly.

He smiles, perhaps at your accidental double entendre.

“Oh, I’m sure you could,” he says.

****

“Welcome aboard, sir, you are in seat 3A,” says the flight attendant, tearing off the stub of his boarding pass. “And you are in seat 3F, madam,” she adds, tearing off yours.

“Oh well, we can wave at each other across the plane,” he says, giving you a wink as he heads inside.

As he takes his seat he actually does wave at you from across the plane, wiggling his fingers impishly. You wave back and attempt to smile underneath your face mask, but your nerves are getting the better of you now. You slip one of your pills beneath the mask and try to concentrate on staying calm, every whirr and click of the aircraft setting your teeth on edge. At least the seat next to you is empty. You couldn’t cope with being sat next to a snoring stranger for the next eight hours.

As the plane takes off, you close your eyes, gripping the armrests and concentrating on taking deep breaths. After a while, you become vaguely aware of the seatbelt light turning off in the cabin.

He drops into the empty seat next to you: “How are you holding up?”

“Not great,” you say, opening one eye to look at him. “My therapist told me to take deep breaths, but that’s easier said than done.”

“Excuse me, my love,” he says, stopping a passing member of the flight crew. “Do we have to wear these for the whole flight?” he asks, indicating his face mask.

“I’m afraid so, but you can remove it if you’re eating or drinking,” she replies.

“I guess we should order some drinks then,” he says.

****

As he talks, you catch yourself watching his lips and you subconsciously run your hand through your hair. You’re both several drinks deep now and you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been sat like this, heads together, talking in confidential tones in the darkness.

Every now and then he leans a little closer and that playful look in his green eyes causes your stomach to flip. Although I suppose that could just be the turbulence, you think.

This close, you can smell his coconut shampoo and hear the chinking of his various beads and trinkets as he ruffles his hair. When it’s your turn to talk, you catch him snatching glances at your lips, his smile travelling to his eyes as you swap funny stories about shared acquaintances.

“So have you always been a nervous flyer?” he asks, sipping his drink.

“No, I used to enjoy flying, but it’s just got worse over the years,” you say, your face beginning to warm from the effects of the alcohol. “Actually,” you say, leaning your head closer to his conspiratorially, “I’ve always had this thing…” You stop yourself, suddenly aware of how unguarded you’re being: “No, I can’t say.”

“Oh, go on, tell me,” he says, in a low voice, shifting his body towards you in his seat.

“No, I can’t,” you say, shaking your head and half-covering your eyes shyly with your hand. You must be a bit drunk, otherwise you wouldn’t even consider telling him this.

“Come on,” he begs, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the plane.

“Ok, fine,” you say, whispering now, “I’ve always wanted to…,” you pause as the flight attendant passes your seats, “I’ve always kinda wanted to do it on an aeroplane,” you say eventually, cringing at yourself.

His thick eyebrows rise immediately at the revelation and his face breaks into a wide smile.

“Really?” he says, excitedly.

He looks around the plane for a second, then turns to you again.

“Well, in completely unrelated news,” he says quietly, trailing his fingers along the flesh above the cuff of your boot, “I’m going to head to the toilet. I’ll be using that one right there, just in case you need to know for any reason,” he adds, pointing to the bathroom at the head of the plane.

He rises now, giving you a wink.

“You’re not serious?” you ask, in a hushed voice. But he only bobs his eyebrows in response as he opens the door and shuts it behind him. The light comes on above, indicating that it is occupied, and you just sit there, your heart racing in your chest now, blood rushing to your face.

You look around the plane. Only a couple of reading lights illuminate the cabin and most of the occupants are now asleep.

Oh my God, this is madness. You’re not actually considering this? You’ll be caught. You’ll be arrested. Imagine what the press will say.

You undo your seatbelt and step into the aisle, the pounding in your chest travelling to your ears.

This is crazy, you think, walking up to the toilet door. You rap quietly on it and for a second you wonder if perhaps this is some cruel prank he’s playing on you. How will you react when you call his bluff? I was only kidding, I’m not really going to shag you in an aeroplane toilet, mate. Haha, so funny.

He opens the door and pulls you inside, locking the door behind you.

“Thank God, for a second there I thought you were going to leave me hanging,” he says, pulling you close and connecting his mouth with yours.

One of his hands wraps in your hair while the other pushes your skirt up over your ass. He grabs it and pulls you even closer, pressing his erection against you. His kiss is intense, frenzied even, devouring you while his hands press your body into his.

The tiny room fills with the sound of heavy breathing as his mouth explores yours, then moves to your neck.

“Wait,” you whisper, catching your breath, “what if we get caught.”

He pulls away and looks at you: “I know, right?” he says, flashing you a wicked smile.

And then his lips are on yours again, his hands travelling underneath your clothes. He tears your sweater off over your head, diving his face between the lacy cups of your bra, grabbing you, biting your breast through the thin material.

Now his hand is travelling down, hitching your skirt around your waist, dipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

His lips meet your ear as his fingers circle your clit: “I’ve wanted to fuck you ever since Nancy’s party,” he whispers, slipping his fingers inside you. He smiles: “Oh, you dirty bitch, you’re so fucking wet,” he says, finding your mouth again and wrapping his tongue around yours.

He lifts you up to perch you on the edge of the sink, fucking you with his fingers while his mouth roams around your neck, your collarbone, your chest.

It’s all happening so quickly you barely have time to find your breath, let alone think about what you’re doing.

You wrap one arm around him, plunging your hand into his soft curls, reaching down with your other hand to grasp his cock over his sweatpants. As you palpate him with your fingers, it only spurs him on.

“I can’t fucking wait to fuck you,” he says, pulling your head back by your hair and exposing your neck to his greedy mouth.

You place your foot on the lid of the toilet and drag his sweater over his head, pulling his torso close to yours.

“We have to be quick,” you hiss, conscious of the very real risk of being caught. Your heart pounds inside your chest, like a prisoner banging desperately against the bars of a cell.

You grab the waistband of his pants now, tugging them down roughly, freeing his cock. It springs into your hand, firm and eager.

He runs his hand up your leg: “I fucking love these boots,” he says into your ear, bringing his hand up your thigh and over your ass. With his other hand, he pulls your underwear to one side and enters you, filling you with his cock.

“Jesus, you feel so fucking good,” he growls in your ear, holding your body tightly to his as he begins to thrust inside you. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite your fist to silence yourself.

Fast, duelling breaths become the only sound inside the cubicle. You cling to his body and dig both fists into his hair, meanwhile his hands wrap around your ass, drawing you closer with every thrust.

You pull his face up and look into his eyes as you fuck each other, panting wordlessly. Then he kisses you again, his tongue searching for yours.

Your mind races: He’s fucking you in this bathroom and there’s dozens of people on the other side of the door. If you’re caught, you’ll be in so much trouble. The police will be called when you land, you’ll be handcuffed, everyone will know what you did…

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you gasp, through clenched teeth, trying your best not to scream.

He groans and you feel him coming too, his fingers digging into your ass as he deepens his thrusts.

“Don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop,” you plead pitifully.

You claw at his back as your orgasm peaks, white hot adrenaline filling your veins. Every nerve in your body snaps and fizzes and you float thousands of feet above the earth, coming back down gently, like a falling feather, aided now by the gentle rocking of his hips.

You hold each other for a second, trying hard to regain your breath. Then the silence of the bathroom is broken by your laughter, then his, your bodies shaking together with liberating vibrations.

****

“You go first, give me a second to fix myself up,” you say as he pulls up his pants and slips his sweater back on, giving you one last furtive kiss before he unlocks the door and slips back into the cabin.

When you leave a minute or so later, you meet eyes with a glamorous older woman sitting in the seat nearest the bathroom, her eyebrow curling in the direction of the sky as she looks you up and down. You avert your eyes, feeling the blood rush to your face as you retake your seat.

He leans his head into yours: “I think the woman in 1E is onto us,” he whispers as you sink down beside him.

****

You lift your eye mask and see him sitting under the reading light, his head in his book.

“I can’t sleep,” you whine, sitting up in the reclining seat.

“Yeah, me neither, I gave up trying,” he replies.

“Do you want to watch a film?” you ask, offering him one of your headphones and adjusting the seat.

“Yeah, ok,” he says, closing his book and snuggling down under the blanket next to you.

You pick something at random, some vapid romcom that will ideally allow you to drift off for the last few hours of the flight.

“I auditioned for this part,” you tell him, your head resting on his chest. “Didn’t get it, obviously.”

“Really?” he says, lifting his chin slightly to look at you.

“Yeah, apparently the girl who got it was dating the director at the time,” you say, yawning.

“Well, you know what it’s like. It’s not what you know, but who you know, and who you’re willing to sleep with,” he says.

You snap your head up: “What the fuck does that mean?” you hiss at him, trying hard not to raise your voice.

“I didn’t mean you, obviously,” he says, fumbling for his words.

“You think I fucked someone to get this job?” you ask him, your eyes narrowing.

“No, no, I didn’t say that,” he says defensively.

“You think I fucked you for some ulterior motive?” you ask, sitting up in the seat now and glaring at him angrily.

“Well, Jesus, I hope not...” he says, his brow furrowing.

“I think you should go back to your seat now,” you say.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean you,” he says, pleadingly. But you’re not listening. You throw two of your pills down your throat and pull your eye mask back over your face, rolling over in your seat with your back to him.

Stupid twat, you think.

He sighs loudly and rises from the seat.

“Touchy cow,” he mutters as he heads back to the other side of the plane.

****

“And here is the key to your suite. As you are spending the mandatory 14-day self-isolation period with us, please remember not to leave the room unless there is an emergency,” says the hotel receptionist as she scribbles quickly on your registration card.

“N-n-n-n-no,” you say, wagging your finger at the receptionist. “Not suite. Suites PLURAL. There should be two, one for him and one for me,” you say tetchily, indicating to him as he stands beside you at the desk.

The receptionist shrugs helplessly: “I don’t know what to tell you, madam. I’m only seeing a booking for one here on the system.”

“Well, check it again, there must be some mistake,” you say, irritation rising audibly in your voice.

“Madam, I don’t need to check it again, this is our last available room, I’m afraid,” she says.

You become aware of him turning towards you with a smirk, watching you with amusement as you feel your temper beginning to rise.

You plaster on a fake smile. You're not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your shit.

“No problem, I’ll just make a quick call and get this all straightened out,” you say through gritted teeth.

****

“I’m sorry, darling, but that’s the best the production company could come up with,” says Lynda, your agent, down the phone.

“Lynda, I’m a reasonable person, I can share a suite with someone, but why does it have to be with him?” you plead.

“What are you talking about? Everyone loves him, you’re the only person I know who has a problem with him.”

“He’s an arsehole, Lynda,” you say emphatically.

“Look, this job is a really big opportunity for you. I don’t want you to blow this by being… yourself.”

“What the hell does that mean?” you shriek down the phone.

“Darling, you know I love you, but you have to admit you can be a bit of a.. well, you know…”

“A bit of a what, Lynda?”

“A BIT OF A DIVA, ok? You can be a real spoiled brat sometimes and kind of a hothead. Just suck it up. It’s only two weeks. Just put on a smile and be nice.”

With that, she hangs up the phone, leaving you standing there in the hotel lobby, mouth agape, speechless, furious and frustrated.

****

“No luck?” he says with a smug grin, leaning against a pillar near the front desk.

“After careful consideration, I’ve decided that I am willing to let you share my suite, just to make things easier for everyone,” you say.

“How gracious of you,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I think so, yes,” you reply, snatching the key card from his hand and striding to the elevator.

“This is going to be a fun two weeks,” he mumbles, following you to the door.

Read Part 2 here | Read Part 3 here

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[thr-333]

Drastic Measures- Part 9

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Book~

Damian gets a book recommendation, it’s only going to get worse for Bruce from here.

Ao3

First < Previous > Next

---------

“So I’ve drafted up the new policies, the lawyer we hired is looking over it,” Damian explains from his desk, “Do we want to handle branch manager interviews ourselves or delegate,”

“Delegate,” Marinette hums, trying to narrow down her first fashion line, “We still need to visit the manufacturer for the line,”

“Can’t you do that yourself?”

“I suppose,” Marinette circles the one she likes best, tabling the others for later, “What are you going to do?”

“Wait,” Damian sighs, “Everything needs to be looked over before we can proceed,”

“Well don’t bore yourself out of your mind,” Marinette close her sketchbook gathering her stuff for her trip, she makes a detour to the bookshelf in search of something, “Here,”

“I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself,” Damian huffs, as she places the book on his desk.

“I’m sure you are,” Marinette says teasingly, getting a withered glare, “How about you entertain yourself with this book, don’t worry you're still doing all the heavy lifting, besides it’s really good,”

“I’m sure it is,” Damian rolls his eyes placing the book to the side.

 ---

 Well, he had said he was sure it was; if sarcastically. Damian sits in the cave as the others dawdle in their preparations for patrol, reading the book recommended. It was fine not his usual preference. Besides he could put it down whenever he wanted… it’s just the sooner he finished the sooner he could put it down and Marinette wouldn't bother him about it anymore. Plus he has a stakeout tonight, there's nothing else to do. That's the only reason why he brought it on patrol. The only reason.

“Ohhh~ that's a good one,” Damian leaps up to attack, brandishing his sword right to Ladybug's neck… he immediately implodes, “What? didn’t hear me coming?”

“Tt, of course, I did,” He did not.

 Ladybug steps away from his blade, Damian hastens to put it down. 

“Is there another Akuma?” He asks, having only seen her at battles, he looks around warily.

“Not right now, just patrolling trying to get a lay of the city,” Ladybug looks out over the skyline.

“Don’t let Batman catch you,” Robin warns taking back up his vigilant stakeout position.

“You gonna tell on me?” Ladybug teases, fixing him with her dazzling smile. 

“No,” It’s not blushing, just shadows cast in the dark.

“So stakeout?” Robin nods as she comes to sit next to him, “A good book is a great way to pass the time,”

Damian is about to deny his enjoyment, as he would to Marinette when she inevitably asked. But… this is Ladybug and they actually have something to talk about, and neither of them has any place to be.

“It is,”

“That's great! I keep trying to recommend it but everyone turns their nose up at it, saying it's for kids,” Ladybug rants, “Even today! I’m glad at least someone enjoys it,”

“I’d hardly say it fair to relegate it just to children,” Robin frowns, “There are complex themes of freedom seamlessly interwoven into the narrative,”

“Right? A relative of mine gave it to me when I was little, it really helped me break out of my shell,” Ladybug smiles, Robin listens keenly at sharing part of her life. It was hard to imagine the confident amazing woman ever being shy.

“It’s hard to imagine you being shy,” Robin startles as she breaks down laughing.

“You have no idea! When I first started out as Ladybug she was so confident it felt like I became a different person, a hero of Paris, a savior of the people!” Ladybug strikes a pose before shrinking in on herself, “But outside the mask, I was timid and shy, not even able to stand up to a liar or a bully,”

“Bully?” Robin's hand itches towards his sword.

“Yeah back in Paris,” When’s the soonest flight to Paris? “But since being in Gotham I don’t have to be who I was, I feel like the gap between me and Ladybug is getting smaller and smaller, so it’s great being here, even if the weathers terrible,”

“That’s good,” Damian sighs, “Not the weather bit,”

“It’s just so cold!”

“I feel that's an opinion shared among many Parisians,” … I feel like I’m missing something.

“Well it will be nice to go back to Paris,” Damian's heart sinks, “When this is all over,”

“Why,” He bites out, “It doesn't sound like you were happy there,”

“Oh, I was,” Ladybug assures with a smile, “Even if I was bullied I had the love of my parents, my friends were still supportive even if they fell for a liar,”

“But you weren’t yourself,”

“Pfft, I was just as much myself as I am here, just more confident,” Ladybug shrugs, looking at something beyond the horizon, “Freedom gives you the confidence to explore parts of yourself you didn’t know, it doesn't change who you were,”

“It doesn't?”

“No- hey what's wrong,” Ladybug leans over, closer to him.

“Nothing,” Robin shifts away, only slightly, “I just thought we were more similar but I guess not,”

“Did I say something to upset you?” 

“No,”

“Correction,” Ladybug says firmly, “What did I say to upset you?”

Do not compromise your identity, do not compromise your identity.

“... I wasn't raised in Gotham, I was raised… elsewhere, not to be a hero,”

“Well that's dumb,” Robin rears back at her bluntness, “Was batman raised to be a hero?”

“No?”

“Oh good, I took a shot in the dark at that one,”

“He wasn't, but I was raised to be the opposite,” Do not compromise your identity, “By assassins,”

Great job Damian

 ---

Wow lots of kids in Gotham were raised as assassins 

This would be the point Marinette feels she is missing something.

Or maybe the league of assassins was planning something with it, not like it’s unusual for them to train kids. “So you must be pretty strong huh?” The league's training is brutal, Marinette knows her Maman did everything in her power to protect her from it for a reason.

“What?”

“Well you have an assassin's training, bet your sneaky, good at taking criminals down swiftly,” Robin was now opening and closing his mouth trying to find something to say.

Worst than the training, she had been told is the lack of freedom. You don’t get to choose who lives who dies, your own fight. Those orders come from the top, the people with the power to take you down. Or not so much in her Mamans place.

“Unfortunately the swiftest way is murder, and here that’s frowned upon,” Ladybug cracks a smile, lightening the mood.

“True, I’m sure there can be more creative uses though,” She had been trained first and foremost by her Maman, Tikki had told her no other holder fought like her. The only new ingredient was a small helping of assassination, minus the murder… well we’ll see when she takes down hawkmoth.

“Unfortunately Batman would rather I forget that particular training than apply it,”

“That doesn't sound good you shouldn-,” She's about to add more when the comms crack to life and Robin motions her to be to stay quiet.

“Robin,” She picks up on Batman's voice over the comm, “Move to the west side,”

“I’m on a stakeout,”

“I’ll send Red Robin,”

“This is my target,”

“The west side Robin,”

“Fine,” Robin stands, a sour expression on his face, “I have to go,”

“Do you?” She for one never listened to Batman.

“... it’s orders,” With that Robin leaves.

Still, following orders huh?

Of course, Batman would be nothing like the league, no matter how much he annoyed her. But still was similar in ways. Lack of choice. Following orders. He didn’t even create his own identity as a hero just following the mantel of Robin. Marinette had formed her identity as Ladybug long before she knew there was a mantel to uphold, and if she had known? There's no way she could have handled it.

How was he expected to grow this the same base structure? Her Maman was the most amazing person she knew, but though cryptid stories missing crucial details Marinette had pieced together that wasn't always the case. No, she had become the person she was by striking out on her own, by being brave enough to step out. By getting the chance to fall in love. Marinette could only wonder what kind of person Robin could be if he allowed himself to do the same.

--------

No taglist I cant keep track of them :P

[silhouetteofacedar]

When We Drive, Ch. 3: Mars, Mercury, and An Asshole

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, Rated T (for now)

NH-31, outside Comity, New Hampshire

2:14 AM EST

January 13, 1996

Scully regrets insisting she’d drive. She’s exhausted, cranky, and way better at reading maps than Mulder is. Logically, she knows she should pull over, trade places with him, curl up in the passenger seat and sulk until she dozes off. Let him navigate their way back to DC in the middle of the night, since he insisted they drive eight goddamn hours one way instead of catching a flight on some puddle-jumper. It’s not like he seems to require sleep in order to function, the maniac.

Instead she grips the steering wheel tighter, hopes the burn of anger in her gut will be sufficient fuel to keep her sleep-deprived body alert for a few more hours.

The last few days have been insufferable; full of bratty teenagers, paranoid townspeople, and Mulder showing off just how big of a jackass he can be. She chews her lip aggressively and tries not to think about him; his derisive commentary on her tone, the way he stood over her, trying to breathe in her scent. Him unkempt on his hotel bed with another woman straddling his hips…

He interrupts her thoughts. “Is it worth me offering to take the reins for a while, pardner, or are you gonna bite my head off?” Mulder says in that infuriating, indifferent mumble he has.

“Guess,” Scully snaps.

He sighs dramatically, slumps further down in his seat. “Fine. Just warn me if you plan on nodding off and crashing the car into a tree or something, will you? I’d like to brace myself for impact.”

“Always so glib,” Scully bites out. “Always have answers for everything. Does it ever get tiring, being so fucking terrific?”

His head snaps towards her. “Me? You’re the one who always has answers! You shut other people down before they can even consider all the possibilities, Scully.”

This is going to turn into a fight, and she’s thrilled. Arguing with Mulder often feels like a sick kind of foreplay, a preamble to the inevitable release of tension. “Oh, like satanic cults sacrificing virgins in the woods? Is that the possibility you want me to entertain with absolutely no evidence, Mulder?”

“I wasn’t just referring to this case, but since you brought it up-”

“Well at least I was working this case, no thanks to you,” she retorts.

“What the hell are you implying?”

Scully presses her lips together in a tight line, inhaling deeply through her nose. “You know exactly what I’m saying.”

“Is this because you saw Detective White in my room, because I tried to tell you that wasn’t what it looked like.”

Scully rolls her eyes. “Mulder, if you think I give a damn about what, who you do-”

“Scully I know you’re really mad at me but can you just stop for a minute.”

She glances at him quickly. “What, like pull over?”

“No! Just stop reaming me for a second. Please.”

She looks at him again in surprise. There’s defeat in his tone, and she’s confused. “It’s clearly none of my business,” she concedes bitterly.

He wipes his hands over his face. “No, I… I wasn’t expecting her, I didn’t invite her in. The distinction may not matter to you, but it does to me. I didn’t ask for it,” he finishes quietly. “So. If you could just leave me alone about it, I’d appreciate that.”

The fire goes cold. The gathered tension disperses before any satisfactory climax, and Scully suddenly feels every minute of sleep she’s missed.

They sit in silence as the night flashes by outside their windows.

“I’m sorry,” Scully says after a while. “I think we’ve both been difficult these past two days.”

“Do you think… us snapping at each other… is because of the convergence?” Mulder asks, looking out the window at the night sky. “The planets aligning to create this cosmic g-spot?”

“I’m still uncertain whether such a thing exists,” Scully muses. She glances at Mulder. “Do not say whatever you’re thinking,” she warns.

“I’ll file it away for later,” he murmurs.

Scully feels her cheeks warm. “I don’t think the planets dictated how we treated each other,” she clarifies. “Blaming this on outside forces feels like a rejection of accountability. I think we choose.”

“Well then coercion by the cosmos or not… I’m sorry, Scully.” He reaches out and gently taps the back of her hand as she grips the gearshift. The contact is brief, two fingertips skipping over her metacarpal bones, but she finds herself softening.

“I’m sorry, too,” she says, sighing deeply. She stifles a yawn.

“Can I make a small suggestion?” he asks.

“You may,” she replies.

He nods his head to the right. “Pull over, switch spots with me. You look like you could use a nap.” He raises his hands placatingly. “I mean that respectfully.”

She pulls over, puts the car in park but leaves the engine running. They switch sides, passing each other in front of the car, headlights flinging their long shadows down the pavement. Scully settles into the passenger seat, sinks into the warmth Mulder’s body left, and tries not to think about him some more.

The next time she opens her eyes, they’re stopped outside a convenience store somewhere in New York, dawn peeking over the horizon. Mulder presses a paper cup of shitty coffee in her hands and gives her shoulder a brief squeeze.

Because no matter what outside forces bear down upon them, they choose.

[jaeminzie]

lover boy | n.jm

↳ na jaemin x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: jaemin’s best friend, donghyuck, overhears you and your best friend talking about your big phat crush on jaemin. and of course, hyuck just had to tell him.

genre: lowkey fluff and hyuck being annoying hehe

word count: 1,758 

“god did you see him today?” i gushed over the boy, who i’ve been crushing on since middle school, to my best friend as we were walking down the school hallway, trying to find our way through the big crowd of students. “he just looks so good in that beanie.”

“y/n, when will you ever get over your crush on him,” my friend sighed. “plus, he’s too much of a fuckboy to treat you right.” i bit my bottom lip slightly while letting out a deep breath through my nose. “i know.” i replied.

it sucked. the crush started when we were seated next to each other in 6th period world history class in 7th grade. at first, i would dread going to that class because all jaemin did was doodle on my paper, ask me what we’re doing in class every five minutes, and step on my shoes just to annoy me. then gradually, i began to laugh with him and i was actually able to have proper conversations with him without rolling my eyes or scoffing at every other word that would come out of his mouth. my crush for him naturally unfolded but i was such in denial for the first couple months.

it wasn’t until i started to notice that he would sit with lonely kids at lunch even though his friends would tease him about it, he would just call them off and tell them to ‘fuck off,’ which was when i began to accept it. i then noticed that he did try in class even if he didn’t understand something, he wouldn’t feel ashamed to ask for help or stay after class just to fully understand the lesson. 

he even asked me to tutor for him one time, but i thought he was joking so i made fun of him and turned him down. i mentally slap myself still for doing that to him. he must think i’m a bitch now.

well now, we’re juniors in high school and my crush for him has only gotten bigger throughout time. unfortunately, we don’t talk no more. we don’t even greet each other when we see each other in the hallways. i doubt he even remembers me.

“i just can’t help but believe he’s actually a sweet guy,” i tried to reason with my friend but it was no point.

“jaemin?! sweet?? babe, there’s absolutely no way,” my best friend said a little too loudly and laughed at me as if i was being delusional. and maybe i was.

“can you please shut up! i thought we promised to use code names when we’re in public.” i whispered harshly.

“pleeeaaasee, nearly everyone in this damn school has a crush on jaemin. you’ll be fine, y/n, you’re not special.” my friend tried to tease me to lighten the mood but we were interrupted by a loud intentional cough behind us.

i didn’t look back because why would i? my nosy friend did tho. they looked back for a millisecond then faced me with regret and fear written all over their face. mouthing the words, “don’t kill me.”

i didn’t have time to question them on what was going on since a tall boy with honey skin and brown parted hair made room for himself between us and hooked his arms around our shoulders.

“na jaemin huh, y/n?” donghyuck, one of jaemin’s greatest friends since childhood, faced me and his shit eating grin was so clear in broad daylight. “i did not expect that at all.” he chuckled at my red face.

“how much did you hear,” i asked him, now getting really irritated and was ready to deck him. 

“literally all of it, you guys are really shameless talking about crushes so fucking loudly in this crowded hallway.” his arms still on us and he was walking sluggishly, of course his smirk was still there. “i can do you a favor, y/n, by telling your lover boy.”

“you better not!” my friend yelled at him for me. “look, this is my fault ‘kay. don’t do y/n like that.” 

donghyuck fake pouted. “what’s the fun in that? i think jaemin would be fond of the surprising news honestly.”

my stomach churned at the last sentence but the feeling immediately went away when i remembered who was talking. donghyuck was infamous for being a teasing bastard so no one takes him seriously. “dude, seriously just get out of here.” i said.

“if you please, babe.” he snickered and took his arms off of us and walked away.

“oh my god, i am so sorry y/n. oh my god, i’ll treat you lunch after school. please forgive me. i should’ve kept our promise. are you mad? please don’t be mad, but you have every right to be if you are.” my friend rambled on as we finally made it to our class.

“y/f/n, it’s fine. really, it’s fine. you didn’t know and honestly, i don’t care anymore. maybe, this will help me get rid of my crush on him.” i shrugged it off like it was nothing to avoid worrying my friend, but inside, i was losing it.

what if donghyuck actually tells him? will jaemin makes fun of me? is he going to give me dirty looks now? at least now, he’ll notice me. ugh, he’ll be confused as to why the girl who was a bitch to him in middle school likes him. karma.

i took a deep breath in attempt to calm myself down. he wouldn’t act that way. he’s a nice guy, i know he is deep down.

the conversation me and my best friend had with donghyuck earlier in the day still stayed on my mind all day. i avoided all the routes i’d take around the school where i’d usually see jaemin walking around. i kept my head down while walking down the halls. i tried my best to avoid him, even though on regular days, i’d try my best to ‘bump’ into him.

the last class of the day was near. i was walking up the flight of empty stairs peacefully, trying to get to class even though, i’d rather be at home under my bed sheets trying to forget today.

“y/n,” a painfully familiar presence was behind me. jaemin stood a couple stair steps behind, his hands in his pockets of his baggy pants. i turned around slowly and admired him the second i saw his figure. his beanie fitted his head so well, a couple hair strands were sticking out. i could see his silver chain that stayed beneath his orange hoodie slightly. he stood there with confidence radiating. “hey,” he avoided eye contact but he was wearing a smile.

“hi,” i couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. he was just so nice to look at. his cheeks slightly tinted pink and i could see his fingers fiddling in his pockets. i decided to suck up my pride and just be straight forward as i couldn’t handle the painfully awkward silence no more. “if.. you’re here because of donghyuck then just forget about it please. i’m sorry about that.” he finally looked me in the eyes after i finished talking and i was surprised that i was able to maintain the eye contact. my face grew hot immediately.

“why are you apologizing?”

i honestly didn’t know. i just can’t imagine how awkward he feels right now because of me. “i just hope you don’t feel obligated to talk to me because of what happened. it was stupid. i’m just. sorry. i guess.” i was preparing myself for the rejection but jaemin’s puppy eyes made me second guess that.

“god you really are oblivious.” he sighed. “i know hyuck can be an asshole at times but he wouldn’t embarrass anyone like how you think he’s done to you by telling me about- uh.. your crush.”

i was so confused. my mouth was open but nothing came out.

my breathing hitched when he slowly started to walk up the stairs and was now so much closer to me. “tell me, is it true?” his voice was a lot quieter and softer. “you’ve liked me for that long?”

i gulped. not knowing if i should lie or not. but god, he already knows because of donghyuck so might as well just go for it. i nodded.

a big smile creeped onto his face. my eyebrows furrowed. is this entertaining to him? my misery and embarrassment is entertaining to him? i was just about ready to get out of there and flip him off for making me feel like this but he trapped me between his body and the wall behind me.

“y/n, have you not been noticing how i look at you? since 7th fucking grade, i’ve always been putting an effort to just see you for even a second outside of class.” his breath fanned my face. “i like you too if it wasn’t obvious enough.”

clearly it wasn’t.

before i could even process anything, he gently put our lips together. his slightly chapped lips fit so perfectly with my soft lips. he hummed as he tasted the strawberry flavored chapstick on my lips. his hands were placed on the wall, while mine were gripping his purple pullover tightly.

my mind and heart were racing. what the hell is going on? is this real?

he didn’t move his lips at all. it was a simple but meaningful kiss. “i like you too.” i whispered, looking into his brown eyes, slowly releasing my grip on his pullover.

he laughed at me. “you’re cute.” he walked back, allowing me to have room to move. “how about i take you out this friday?” he smiled at me. “only if you want to.”

“of course i want to.” i rolled my eyes playfully and smiled back.

his smile grew bigger, i didn’t know that was possible. “perfect. i’ll see you later.” he went closer to me and cupped my jaw and kissed my heated pink cheeks. his other hand placed something inside my tan cardigan pocket.

he pulled away and right before he left, he had to say, “also, can you change your chapstick flavor? i don’t really like strawberries.” he flashed me a bright smile and left.

i shook my head smiling uncontrollably, not believing what had just happened. i put my hand into my pocket and saw what he had slipped in there.

a note.

call me when you get home. 283-xxx-xxxx <3 we should catch up :)

-your lover boy

[chrysalispen]

a dream in flight (cid/wol)

for @smitten-miqitten. thank you so much <3 i hope you enjoy!

AO3 HERE

fic under the cut, as always.

===

The morning was a rare one, having dawned clear and cloudless - albeit every ilm as cold and bracing as the one that preceded it. The overbright sparkle of a sun with no warmth bit as strongly as any blizzard, but the crystal and stained glass windows of the great cathedral seemed to filter the merciless glare of eternal winter into something gentle and cheerful. 

Although a bone-deep chill lingered without the doors as ever, it was stiflingly warm in the nave. Folk large and small had gathered beneath the roof of Saint Reymanaud’s, brought together by the common threads that bound them to the Warrior of Light -- she who had ended the Dragonsong War alongside Ishgard’s greatest knights and heroes. The union was an occasion to celebrate as much as any feast-day, and to that end all present had turned out in their finest: city-state leaders in ceremonial dress, various personages of the High Houses using the occasion as an opportunity to display themselves and their sons and daughters to advantage, Brume folk in their best attire. 

Cid Garlond had long since grown weary of observing the still-gathering crowd and now contented himself with staring through a small pane of glass into the body of the sanctuary. Light streamed through the massive arches like golden prayer-ribbons, weaving their way along marble walls and ancient buttresses. The floral wreaths that bookended the hefty spruce pews were a donation from the Gridanian Botanists’ Guild, sprays of color and scent and life (some alterations had been made; he doubted the artichoke flowers lining the steps to the altar dais had been Era’s notion, or Fufucha’s for that matter).

“Hells, you even let them deck the pews,” the sardonic drawl echoed slightly from old stones. “I suppose you really are serious about this.”

That was a voice he knew, and normally one that was wont to cause his hackles to rise- but in this instance the unsettled flutter in his gut left him more inclined to look favorably upon its owner, if for naught else other than long familiarity. 

He let his shoulders roll back as he glanced up at the taller Garlean out of the corner of his eyes, then shook his head. “I’m not sure what gave you the impression I would do anything like this on a lark. Goodness knows there were other venues. More discreet, at the very least.”

“Well, I daresay there’s still some time before the festivities commence.” Nero Scaeva’s shameless grin was all teeth and no small amount of mirth; Cid thought to himself with a sort of sour amusement that his colleague and erstwhile rival was quite enjoying his predicament. “You could always abscond with your lady as soon as she arrives. Make for the Dravanian hills. Biggs and Wedge would cover your escape, no doubt.”

“While you simply sit back and watch, I suppose? Or would you help them?”

Nero offered only a lazy shrug of his shoulders, a lift and a drop and spread hands. 

“Perhaps, Garlond. Perhaps. I find myself feeling oddly magnanimous this morning, as it happens.”

“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to curtail these passing generous impulses of yours, Nero.” Cid’s lips tilted in a wry half-smile of his own. “I suspect Era would be cross if I let you assault the guests.”

“Spoilsport,” he said. Cid scoffed, though it was without rancor. “In that case, I suppose you are determined to endure, come what may. Stand still, your collar’s gone askew.”

As the other man cast a critical eye on his neckwear Cid fought not to fidget in place. His eyes strayed frequently to the doors of the cathedral, and in the back of his mind he could feel Marques fluttering about like a trapped bird buffeting its wings against an invisible cage. Strange, how the most significant sennight of his life had begun much like any other, and even stranger that he felt so anxious, knowing how long he had felt ready for this very day. He supposed it was public speaking jitters- there were quite a lot of people here, after all: many of them faces he knew as well as Era did. 

But then, he told himself, that was the point, wasn’t it? The other ceremony - the real ceremony, as far as Cid was concerned - was somewhere else. This was a sort of… test run, one might say. 

Just a test run, he repeated to himself, and he couldn’t say why it was that which served to ground him, but it did. Some of the tension in his muscles seemed to flow out of his limbs, like icemelt into a mountain stream. It hadn’t entirely fled him, and he was sure the second the doors opened and all eyes were upon him it would return. But the fluttering in his head had subsided, and that was what mattered. 

He exhaled softly as Nero stepped back to give him space. A frown knitted the other Garlean’s brow: an emotion that looked almost like concern. 

“Jests aside, you’re looking a bit pale, old friend. Are you quite sure you’ve not changed your mind?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll be fine,” Cid assured him. He glanced towards the entrance to the vestibule. “Once she’s arrived, I’ll be better than fine.”

He didn’t have to wait very long. Three turns about the space later there was a flurry of activity at the doors and a vision in white stepped across the threshold, the long and lacy train of her dress draping the floor at her back like spun frost. 

Era looked as stunning as she always did to his eyes, of course, regardless of what she wore. But as lovely and intricate as it was, Cid took little more than cursory notice of her dress. His attention caught itself upon other, smaller details: the shine of her eyes - just slightly too bright - and the tight curve of her smile, and the white-knuckled way she clutched the bouquet of white lilies in her hands. She was as outwardly composed as ever but he knew her tells well enough by now to see that in truth, she was no less unsettled about the prospect of a very public display than Cid himself. 

So, he thought, it appears I won’t be alone in this either. 

He nudged his companion in the ribs with one elbow. “You see?” he said. “Better than fine.”

“Well then, Garlond, let me be the first to offer my congratulations-”

“Jumping the gun rather, aren’t you? The ceremony hasn’t started yet.”

“-upon your miraculous recovery from stage fright,” the engineer finished. His lips tilted in something that was either a sneer or a smirk, and knowing Nero as he did, it could well have been both. “As amusing as it is to entertain the notion of watching you faint away upon your approach to the altar like some dewy-eyed Coerthan virgin afflicted with the vapors, I suspect the timely arrival of your fellow aspirant to matrimony has just saved me a good deal of trouble.”

“You would actually give up the opportunity to watch me embarrass myself in front of what must be half the realm sitting in those pews? Seven hells, Nero, you are getting soft.”

A derisive snort. “Spoken as if your lovely and more than somewhat terrifying bride wouldn’t simply pluck you from the floor and princess-carry you to the altar herself should it come to that. He'll not escape you that easily, eh, Era?” 

The neutral set of her soft lips barely twitched, but the flash of good humor in her eyes was all the answer Cid needed. Her smile took a genuine turn at last - a soft and slight thing that would have been imperceptible to anyone else - and the cloud-like softness of her tail twitched, nearly hidden in the layers of snowy lace and satin. At the same moment, he watched the tilt of her shoulders relax. Just the barest hint, really, but he suspected it to be a reflection of his own selfsame thought process.

 “He'll be fine, and so will I,” she said at last. She was responding to Nero but her eyes, luminous and wide, were fixed upon Cid's. "We go together."

“Right. Well. Upon that note, I believe I’ll be finding my seat. Away from the aisles, if it please you,” the tall blond shrugged, making a show of turning his back as he strode towards the exit to the sanctuary. “Do make an attempt to remain vertical for the duration, Garlond.”

Cid managed to suppress a mirthful grin of his own until Nero had quit their presence before turning it upon a lily and lace-bedecked Era. 

“He suggested we take the opportunity to elope, but I think that would be a touch impolite- tempting as it might be.”

“Besides which, everyone is already here and waiting,” she said. “It would be a bit rude to elope now. We might as well get on with it.”

He laughed and it would have gone unnoticed were she not looking at him; the sound was swallowed in the ringing swell of a tolling cathedral bell. The sound crashed against stone like an invisible wave, once, twice: the final call for their gathering to take seats. 

Era’s ears swiveled forward at the sudden sound before relaxing back into the wreath of flowers woven into her hair, and lifted one hand midair while juggling her bouquet into her right. He tucked her elbow about his much girthier forearm so that her hand rested just above the back of his wrist. The small ring she wore caught the light with a tiny, delicate sparkle -- a mote of light with a deep blue center.

“I suppose that’s our cue. You will catch me if I fall, won’t you, love?”

“Always. Even if I tear my dress doing it.” Smile steady, her soft eyes flickered towards the nave entrance. The slight weight of her hand resting upon his was warm and secure, a silent comfort. “Shall we?”

Cid took the hint for what it was. 

“Let’s,” he said, and reached for the heavy wooden doors.

~*~

“Era? Sweetheart?”

By ilms the ache began to subside and with it, the Echo vision faded and passed. Her fingertips fell away from the spot where they had lain pressed to her temple.

The sight that awaited her when she opened her eyes was of quite a different venue indeed: no massive flying buttresses or walls of cold and heavy granite to be found here. The tiny chapel of Saint Adama Landama sat on a high point as did the Holy See’s grand cathedral, but that was where the similarities between the two locations ended. The view afforded here was not that of majestic snow-capped mountains, but a small and dusty lichyard. Beyond the box canyon that housed the old Sunroad waystation of Camp Drybone lay malms of flat scrublands and shallow watering holes, populated only by tuco-tucos and herds of wild aldgoats that had taken advantage of cooler hours to graze and water.

At last the day had dawned upon what she considered the real ceremony. 

Today she would in truth marry the man she had loved for so long, in this place which meant so much to the both of them. Of course she had wanted their friends to share in their happiness, and Cid had in turn agreed for her sake. But here, the difference was as stark as night and day. Looking upon the well-worn pews strewn with laurel and desert saffron, the anxiety that had so plagued her in the great cathedral was… well, not what she could call ‘nonexistent,’ not exactly, but there was far more of excitement in it than aught else.

How long had it been, in truth, since they had met? The first time it had been wholly incidental. They had been little more than ships passing in the night -- albeit those ships were ghost-ships, left unanchored and unmoored and empty to drift slow and wide upon deep currents. Newly recruited to the Scions and looking for information, she had instead found him, half-concealed in a solitary corner of the lichyard draped in his borrowed robes and weeding an aged plot. He had been too shy to even look her full in the face while he stammered out a frightened response to her question. 

Then, he had only known himself as Marques. Sometimes she wondered about the part of him that they both knew was still Marques, looking upon the world as it was now: the world that Cid Garlond had helped to shape. Be it for weal or woe. 

She had forgotten for a moment that he was still watching her. When she glanced at him after the sound of his clearing throat caught her attention she saw his brow knotted with concern, eyes cast in brief shadow.

“Era, is aught amiss?”

“Hmm? No, I’m fine.” Era punctuated her words with a faint smile, hoping it would reassure him. The small bouquet of baby’s breath she clutched in one hand was warm, the simple ribbon that bound it ever so slightly damp where moisture from her palm had started to sink into the fibers. “I was just thinking about the day we met.”

“Mmm.” The furrowed crease that had extended nearly down to the bridge of his nose relaxed. “Good old Marques. I’ll wager he never would have dreamed of a day like this.”

(Sometimes she wondered if he wished he could still be Marques. She would hardly blame him.) 

“On a day like this, where would he have been?” she wanted to know.

“Well away from the churchyard.” Cid reached for her, his broad, rough mechanic’s fingers lacing through hers. It was already hot and his hand was as warm as hers, but it was a gentle warmth- one that enfolded her hand much like his steadfast presence had enfolded her heart. His grin seemed to stretch from ear to ear. “Tending some of those newer plots on the high road, methinks.” 

Before she could think about it she had voiced the question.

“You don’t miss it overmuch, do you?”

“What? Being ‘Marques’?” At her nod, that grin turned somewhat wry. “Aye, well... were I to be completely honest, I think I do miss that daft old bugger on occasion. He was a tabula rasa, after all, and that sort of existence does have a certain appeal. Fewer responsibilities, for one.”

“But?” Era squeezed his hand, and his focus caught upon their laced fingers. 

“But all other matters aside, I know full well what I would have missed. There are times… well, I have my bad days, and sometimes being Cid Garlond feels a terrible beast of a burden. I’ll not deny it. But days like this? I can’t say I would wish to be anyone else." He paused. "Or anywhere else, for that matter.” 

Cid's eyes were the precise grey-blue of cornflower blossoms, as guileless and open to the sun as the Thanalan sky. She had always loved his eyes: windows which afforded her a glimpse into a soul that was both noble and incessantly kind, even in those early days when he had not known himself. The worry she had glimpsed was gone, passed across their surface and moved on like a cloud drifting away from the sun. It left them as lovely as ever, and brighter to her own loving gaze than any crystal would ever be. 

Like a crystal, he reflected the light she bore in truth.

Her throat felt suddenly tight, as though there were a lump she couldn’t swallow past, and she blinked furiously to clear the uncomfortable burning sensation that pricked her eyes.

“Come now, darling,” Cid chided her with a soft laugh. “Save your tears for the ceremony, eh? The good Father’s waiting on us, and so are the crew.”

==

She almost held out through the entire ceremony. Almost.

Motes of dust billowed in the shafts of sunlight that slanted through the windows of the chapel - in truth, little more than a meeting-house - as if in benediction upon the small gathering. Small as it was, Era clutched her bouquet until her knuckles turned white as she tried to ignore the small handful of people in the pews. Her free hand, held in his- it all felt so seen, and fame or no, she had never liked to put herself on display.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught the movement of Cid’s lips, though there was no sound. She blinked at him, wondering if he had said something and she had merely missed it, until they moved again:

Relax. Look at me.

That message was unmistakable, followed as it was by a very slow and deliberate wink and the mischievous tilt of a half-smile. She felt her own lips stretch in response and her grip on his hand relaxed ever so slightly - and she caught his faint grimace and felt the flex of tendon and muscle, and realized she must have been squeezing his fingers more tightly than she had intended.

If old Father Iliud had noticed any of that silent exchange, he gave no outward sign, bless him. He merely looked from the bride to her groom, both in their modest attire, Era in her lace, then out upon the few witnesses sitting upon the weathered and somewhat rickety benches that passed for pews. The smile he bestowed upon them all was very much like the sunlight slanting through the dusty windows, gentle and ever-present.

“My dear friends,” he said, his voice quiet and warm and intimate, as if he addressed only the two of them in the comfort of a private parlor, “words cannot well express what a wonder it is, to see all of you who have gathered here today. To share in a day like this, to celebrate love, is to celebrate joy itself.

“We have all weathered many a storm these past five summers. Yet those who endure hardship and emerge wiser and kinder for the experience are the strongest of us- and the secret to their strength so very often lies in the company they keep on their journey.”

As she listened, she remembered.

There had been another time he had clasped her hand like this. The rift, beautiful chaos, an endless sea of stars and a cold to numb the very soul as they were cast adrift in the vast and unfolding eternity of interdimensional space: her only anchor the softness of chocobo down and the warmth of Cid’s hand, fingers intertwined and grasping like tapestry threads. Era had forgotten many things, some more important than others. It was a circumstance she had accepted long ago; for better or worse, a not-insignificant part of her time had been spent trying to assemble the disparate pieces of her life before and after the shipwreck. 

But that she would hold in her heart until she cast away her mortal coil, for the memory of that warmth was also the moment Era had realized she was in love with him. It had been exhilarating and wonderful, that quiet awareness of something that had waited with such patience for her to see it, like the petals of a morning glory unfolding to bask in the full brilliance of the sun. 

The company we keep--

Such a long and strange journey it had been, all of it. And Cid had been there with her from the first step.

“Era,” a voice murmured. “The rings.”

She’d been lost in so much reflection she had nearly missed her own ceremony, she thought with a sort of rueful embarrassment. Cheeks coloring slightly, she set the bouquet aside just in time for Iliud to take her emptied hand and fold her fingers into those of her groom. 

Iliud stretched his other hand first towards Cid, his palm open and facing upward as the engineer reached for the bauble that lay in his hand and lifted Era’s hand with a reverent touch. They faced each other now; the pews were visible from the corner of her eye if she chose to perceive them, but she barely noticed. Her focus lay upon the delicate white gold ring and the tiny jewel settings, blue as his eyes, as he slid it onto her finger with painstaking care.

“Let this be my promise to you,” Cid murmured. He held her hand high, close to his mouth, and she could feel the damp warmth of each soft exhale as he bent over his work. “Be they clear skies or the darkest storms, I would navigate them all with you at my side.”

He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them, grave and earnest, a pilgrim paying homage.

“And Era.” 

Thus prompted, she reached for the remaining band. It was a simple piece: the metal brushed and polished to a precise sheen, pleasing to the eye but sturdy enough to withstand much of its owner’s heavy manual labor. Her hands felt clammy with sweat. There was a sort of… no, lightheadedness wasn’t the right word. Giddy, she amended. Reality was asserting itself bit by bit, wondrous and overwhelming-- it wasn’t a fever dream or an Echo vision. 

She could blink once, twice, a hundred times, and this day - the fact of her marriage - it would all still be real.

He held his own hand aloft, awaiting her next move in patient silence and an unwavering smile. Era’s fingers trembled slightly, albeit not from any particular apprehension, as she positioned the ring to slide into place. It caught on the wide point of his finger for the space of a heartbeat before moving downward once more. 

The chapel seemed terribly hot, or perhaps that heat in her cheeks was self-consciousness-- Era had never been one for grandiose speeches or noble vows. Nevertheless, she bowed her head studiously over the much larger hand she cradled, his fingers curled with delicate care about hers, to seal her words with a kiss of her own. 

“Let this be my promise to you,” her words echoed his, a statement bold and simple in equal measure. “No matter the adventure or the quest that leads my steps, you will always be at my side, in word and in deed. We go together.”

The ring shone with the reflected light of the afternoon sun, and she shut her eyes against it just long enough to brush her lips against roughened knuckles. She lowered his hand, still held securely in her own, to see her emotions mirrored in his face. He was still smiling, but his eyes were suspiciously bright and by the knowing tilt to his lips, Era rather suspected she was in the same state. 

Iliud’s hands cast small shadows over theirs as he raised each palm to place upon the crowns of their hands, then their backs, in light and careful benediction. Just as Cid had received foreknowledge of this part of the ceremony so had she; her ears flickered back and then forward again in a small, tight swivel. Still, her fingers tightened their grip ever so briefly, and with silent determination she kept her gaze firmly set even as her vision went dim and she blinked furiously.

“What the fates have seen fit to join,” he intoned, “neither man nor nature may cast asunder. By those powers granted to me and the immeasurable privilege to preside over this union, I bid you take your first steps in life across the threshold of this holy house.”

Heedless in truth of the emotion between them - or mayhap perfectly aware of it - the old priest’s hands raised aloft as the pair turned at last to face the pews. 

“Era and Cid Garlond, I pronounce you husband and wife, and alongside my fellow celebrants in your shared joy wish long life and happiness upon you both. May you go forth in peace-- and may the Twelve smile upon you now and forevermore.”

Her joyful laugh, thin and shaking and half-tearful, was muffled beneath her husband’s kiss. She tasted salt, but almost as soon as the impression was there it was gone and he was grinning at her, the Cid she knew and loved. Sunlight glittered in bright blue, the tears in them fading like a receding rainfall to be replaced once more with eternally fair skies.

“Let’s get out of here,” Cid whispered, taking her elbow in his. They took their first step down the aisle in tandem. “The airship’s waiting.”

“Airship? I thought we weren't-" 

“Aye, you heard right. It's all been arranged. We’ve the whole of the next sennight to ourselves and an open sky ahead.” His wink was all boyish mischief, ceremonial solemnity fled in the wake of what Era saw now was suppressed excitement. “So you just tell me where to go, and I’ll take us there. Just like always, Missus Garlond.” 

“But the Ironworks-”

“There’s no less than a dozen folk who have offered to take up projects in our stead,” he kissed her cheek, and she squirmed at the tickling scratch of his beard, “on both ends. This will be just the two of us.” “Not even Biggs and Wedge?”

“Not even Biggs and Wedge.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” she said, then: “...Oh dear. That... wasn’t quite how I meant that to sound.”

Unfazed, Cid tossed his head and laughed. His hair, that beautiful silver-streaked white-blond, shimmered like his wedding ring band in the filtered sunlight and with that single peal of sound she fancied she could nearly see his soul. He was happier than she had ever seen him, and it had made of itself something tangible and incandescent. Radiant. 

And reflected light or not, she couldn’t help but find him the most beautiful man she had ever seen. My husband. She thought her way around those two words, testing them.

“I’m sure they’d understand,” he said, smiling. “Right! Well then, my fellow navigator, I believe we’ve a course to chart. Let’s be about it. To the Excelsior?” 

Era beamed at him. This, too, was the happiest day she could remember, and it would end with a shared dream, borne aloft and bound for adventure. 

“To the Excelsior.”

The chapel doors flew open on their weathered hinges, and with hearts and hands joined, Era and Cid Garlond set forth into the light of a new day.

[starrybbarnes]

high flying, pt. 3 | [b.b]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x superhero!Reader

Summary: bucky has no memory of you using magic. certain teammates are catching on, but you’re standing your ground. trouble brews as you’re training yourself. 

Word Count: 1932 (more substance! i promise this one is worth it)

Author’s note: originally, this was supposed to be a 3 part thing, but i’m pretty sure there’s be 4 total. don’t worry I’ve tried to make these next two as long as possible, but also still entertaining. but, the main attraction is coming soon. as i’ve said before, i appreciate all of your feedback! :)

Warnings: more swearing, some more magic, and a cliffhanger.. maybe. I’ve sprinkled some fluff to make up for it. also if you know someone from mit, i apologize in advanced.

Part 1 Part 2

Smack smack smack went your feet across the padding... It became mundane as you kept fighting the still punching bag, and much more tiring. 

While practicing some combat moves, you started thinking about the meeting. Surely, no one was able to identify you, but you’re sure as hell Steve and Bucky might have an inclination. And rightfully so, as you partially wiped the mind of a friend. 

You thought about the moment Bucky stared you down in the conference room, his mind trying to put two and two together, but alas couldn’t make a connection. Maybe he is that clueless, you thought to yourself.

However, if Steve is able to connect the dots as to why Bucky can’t remember certain moments of certain days, then you might be into some hefty trouble. And if he were to find out you casted a spell on his best friend, you might jeopardize your job.  

But at the same time, you thought about your own safety, your privacy. You weren’t ready to take on a huge role, much less when you’re not used to your powers. It was a tug and pull, but you were committed to letting everyone know once you had the capacity to control it. 

You were deep in thought when you felt yourself levitate slightly. It was a force of habit, but you let it happen, letting your thoughts occupy you.  

As you stood, er- floated, there while pondering, you heard the gym door open and you quickly grabbed a hold of the pull up bar. Making their way towards you is Steve and Bucky, both carrying duffle bags on their side. The boys stare at you incredulously as you’re holding onto the bar.

“How’s it hanging down there?” you half joked, as Steve rolled his eyes and Bucky was suppressing a smile. 

“Very funny,” Steve said, “we were looking for you all over, figured this might be the last place to look.” 

“Well,” you started, still on the pull-up bar, “your inclinations were correct.” 

Bucky eyed you, gears churning in his head, trying to see why you doing pull-ups felt… off. 

You sensed Bucky’s confusion as he stared at you just dangling from the bar, and so you thought fast. You fell on your knees as you abruptly let go of the bar and planted onto the floor. A loud oof was heard as Steve audibly gasped at the sight.

“I’m fine!” you said nonchalantly  as Bucky scooped you up and stood in front of you. 

Bucky shook his head and began to speak, “we came by to find you—”

“You came to find her,” Steve interrupted, “I just came to support Bucky because he’s always afraid to talk to ya.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” Bucky interjected, “but anyways, the team and I are headed out of the country for 5 days. Ireland, specifically. I think it’s business related. So we won’t be long.”

A slight hum escaped your mouth, nodding at the statement Bucky had said. “Look at you two, being business-y,” you joked as Bucky cracked a smile, while Steve rolled his eyes.

“Well, sweetheart, I’ll have you know I’m all business, all the time,” he added, earning a groan from you and Steve.

You stood in front of the duo. If anyone knew awkward, it’s definitely these two centenarians. Another moment of silence overcame the gym, as three of you just stared at each other, and you crossed your arms, waiting.  

“Oh, for god’s sake Buck,” Steve sighed, “Y/N, Bucky told me he was going to miss you and he didn’t know if you felt the same way.”

You raised your eyebrows at the duo, Bucky blushing ever so slightly and Steve looking more exasperated than usual. 

“Well,” you coughed, “Let Bucky know that I will miss the team equally… but, I’ll miss him slightly more.” 

Bucky smiled at the last comment and went to hug you. Steve came in for a hug too and broke away and said they should get going, as they shouldn’t be running late. Bucky slowly let go and sheepishly waved goodbye as the duo started to head out. 

As the two walked away, you carefully shot some magic their way, a safe travel spell, and he closed the door. You saw through the windows that Steve and Bucky  looked confused at the slight lavender aura around them, how they smelled of rose and vanilla all of sudden.

Steve shoots you a look through the window, and all you do is laugh and shrug. You go towards the back of the gym, and reveal your silver staff hiding in plain sight, and begin to twirl it. It begins to glow with its purple hue, and you start practicing with it.

Maybe they’ll figure it out, it doesn’t matter. But, it is kind of fun messing with the guys. 

。。

6:45 pm, 5 days later

The compound had been eerily quiet the past five days, and you were elated that your friends were coming back in a couple of hours. Most importantly, Bucky was coming back.

You promised yourself it was now the time to make a move. You pondered for hours with your stuffed animal and your best friend, the latter being slightly more responsive.

You also let your friend Betsy know that you have completely gotten a hang of your powers, and your friend suggested that you  might be ready to fight alongside the Avengers.

You hesitated at that suggestion. You were really good, but that’s only because you kept practicing in the simulation room at the gym. Sometimes you're thrown a curveball in the real world. But you knew you’d have the support of your friends whenever you’re crime fighting. 

Betsy asked about Bucky’s flight back. It left at around 7 this morning, so you predicted they might come around the afternoon. She commented that a normal flight from Ireland usually is 8 hours long, if there are no layovers. 

That means they should’ve arrived here at around 3. The quinjet is fairly punctual, and it isn’t like the team to be taking that long. Especially with the time differences, everyone would’ve been eager to come back home to sleep off the jet lag. 

You asked FRIDAY if there was any GPS location of the quinjet the team was boarded on, but oddly enough there wasn’t any. FRIDAY reported that the last signal was sent from Queens, which meant they were almost here. Flying from the city to upstate New York took an hour, tops. 

“This isn’t looking good,” you said to your friend with concern. Both of you kept throwing off ideas as to why there was a delay, when FRIDAY notified you of an incoming message.

You opened up the hologram and there said a message that read: In trouble. Top of building. Call backup. B. 

 “Call backup?” you questioned, “but there’s no one except me and Peter. All the other other Avengers were either with Steve or they’re doing other minor missions. And I’m pretty sure other agents don’t have the clearance to do this type of stuff… right?”

That only leaves once choice, Y/N, your friend commented. You’re gonna have to brave this out with Peter.

“Peter’s a child,” you argued.

When he wants to be, your friend interjects. He can put up a fight, I’ve seen him on the news. 

You keep weighing your options, when you hear a knock on the door. 

“Uh, Y/N?” Peter asked, “did you get that text from FRIDAY? I think the guys are in trouble. Most importantly your secret boyfriend is in trouble but that’s beside the point. I want to do this, but I’m by myself and I can’t do the saving by myself, I mean I can, but I need your help.”

Peter is dressed in his suit, minus the mask, and he peeks inside more to see you talking to your friend. You look at your friend, back to Peter, to the message, back to your friend, and then back to Peter. 

You opened your closet and then opened a secret drawer. You saw your suit, and next to it, your silver staff. 

“Peter,” you sighed, “Let’s grab a small jet and get to the bottom of this. Lord knows I’ve prepared myself for this.”

。。

As the jet got closer to the main city, you and Peter tried to intercept any signal or clue to find your friends. You put the jet on autopilot, and pulled up a map of the city to see the roofs of any tall building. 

You groaned slightly, “this is hopeless, there’s no way we can pinpoint a place quickly.” 

You wondered as to how a quinjet of such size can’t be detected by just plain eyesight. Either that, or it was time to get your vision checked out. 

Then Peter started to sense something: it was by a building on Liberty Street. He then pulled up a hologram and started zooming in on the roof of that building. It was difficult to see, but there was a ball of light sort of floating above the roof.

You were called over by Peter to check it out, and as the jet slowly started to get closer, and you pulled out some binoculars, you can vaguely recognize some burly men all bunch up together. 

“Peter, try to land on the roof that is two buildings over from that building,” you suggested. As the jet neared the roof, you decided to turn off the engines and used your magic to safely land the jet. It was no easy feat, but it was done. 

Getting out of the jet, you and Peter went towards the roof’s ledge that got as close as possible to the building with the floating light ball.

Using your binoculars once again, you got a clearer image of who was on top. 

It was the boys. And they were surrounded by a bunch of guys dressed in black, with one scrawny dude standing by a weird contraption. 

“That doesn’t look pretty,” Peter commented through his suit. His AI was explained to you and Peter that the scrawny was an ex-Stark employee, and the machine was used to keep the Avengers captive, while also a finding way to try and blow up the compound. Karen, the AI, proclaimed that the machine had major flaws and said it wouldn’t take much to take it down. 

“Can you tell Karen that while that sounds optimistic, there are also only two of us, and bunch of bad guys,” you groaned. This definitely wasn’t in a gym simulation.

“Sure... but,” Peter started, “we do have your powers, and my strength, and my ability to distract people. Also, I think it’s your time to shine, I think we’re both ready to do this.” 

You looked over to the other roof. You vaguely saw Bucky’s arm glistening in the sunlight. He looked confused and afraid. It looked like was looking upwards in every direction, trying to find any sign of backup. Luckily for him, it isn’t that far away.

“Peter, you’re right,” you replied. “And I think I have a surefire way to save our boys.”

You took your staff out of the sheath that was on your back. It slowly started to glow, and your whole demeanor changed. Now wasn’t the time to back down, it’s time to fight. And fight hard. 

“Karen, give us a rundown of our surroundings. I have a plan that will make sure than Peter and I can kick scrawny intern ass.”

[asexual-hugger]

The moment Allison reaches her parents’ house, the Christmas display of lights lining the porch railings and the outside catches her eye. Even the small plants on the stoop have strings of lights wound around them, and the Santa sleigh with the reindeer and Allison’s Christmas Olaf from the movie Frozen are set out in the front yard. Her father had once again gone all out.

“Does your family decorate like this every year?” Detective Sinclaire is looking at the decorations with amazement.

“Basically, yes,” Allison answers. “Dominic gave me the Olaf the year after Frozen came out in theaters, and it’s been used as a Christmas tradition here ever since.”

“Oh!” Sinclaire seems to notice the snowman after a moment. “Oh. Wow! I didn’t even see him! He’s adorable!”

“I know, right?” Allison gushes. “He’s my favorite character in the whole movie. Dominic said he saw him at the Disney store and thought of me right away. My mum made the Santa hat and scarf for him.”

“That was so thoughtful of your brother to do that,” Sinclaire remarks. “I never even knew Olaf was your favorite. I was going to guess Elsa, since you seem to be into the songs and the dresses.”

“Wellllll, maaaaaybeeee Elsa is my second favorite.” Allison puts on an innocent expression and shrugs. “It’s kind of hard to choose, to be honest, but if I were to make a choice, my number one would be Olaf. He’s got so much personality and in some ways reminds me of myself.”

She grins at him widely and knocks on the door. Voices can be heard from inside, and then footsteps. The knob turns and a young man with slightly tousled dark hair opens it, staring out at her.

“She’s here!” he cries out.

“Hello, Harry.” Allison greets her second oldest brother with a smile. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, little sis.” Harry McQueen smiles widely and wraps his arms tightly around her. “How’ve you been? Where’ve you been? We’ve been waiting for you for what feels like an eternity!”

“Sorry; I got held up in the town square,” Allison tells him as he releases her. “I got distracted by the big tree and all the decorations. It’s my fault. I hope I didn’t keep you guys waiting too long. I texted Mum and Dad to say I didn’t know when I’d be coming over. Am I allowed inside or are you going to stay out here interrogating me on the invisible witness stand?”

“Sorry.” Harry backs up and opens the door all the way. “Come on in. You must be freezing!” He beckons her in almost desperately and then his eyes fall on her guest. “Er...what’s going on? Who’s the dude?”

Stranger Danger. Allison had warned Detective Sinclaire that her brothers would ask questions. This was most likely the start of it.

“Harry, meet my boss, Detective Ernest Sinclaire,” Allison says proudly before things get awkward. “Detective, my second oldest brother, Harry McQueen. Attorney.”

Detective Sinclaire steps forward and grins at the older sibling. “What she said,” he states, digging into his heavy layers and pulling out his lanyard to flash his badge. “Ernest Sinclaire, Private Investigator. You’ve probably heard of me from your sister. We work together at Ledford Park Detective Agency.”

“Private investigator, huh?” Harry narrows his eyes, almost suspiciously. “You look awfully young. In fact, you look almost the same age as Allison. Are you pulling my leg?”

“I assure you, I am not,” Sinclaire answers confidently. “I am indeed your sister’s employer, and believe me, you are not the first one to notice my youthful appearance. I may be young, but I am quite capable of running an entire detective business on my own. Consider me a self-made man. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Allison has told me great things about you and your elder brother Dominic.”

“I would believe she has.” Harry eyes his younger sister protectively. “All I can say is, sir, if you are truly a private detective, then you’d know my brother and I do not take kindly to strangers harassing our only sister.”

“Detective Sinclaire has never touched a hair on my head, Harry,” Allison announces firmly. “I already warned him about your Brother Code. He knows that he has to earn the Older Brother Seal of Approval in order to get out of the Stranger Danger zone. If you have doubts, Mum, Dad and Kade will back him up, since they met him last summer when I came home to help on the farm. Believe me when I tell you this: Detective Sinclaire is the most trustworthy, honest man I’ve ever met, and he would never hurt me on any account. This isn’t the courthouse. This is our family home, so drop the lawyer act and let us inside. Please.”

She looks back at her boss and gives him a firm, confident nod.

“Harry? What is going on out there? Is Allison here yet?” Allison recognizes her mother’s voice from inside. “What’s taking so long?”

“She’s here, Mum,” Harry calls, stepping aside to let his sister in. He continues to give Sinclaire a long, hard look, following his movements closely. “She brought some guy. Says he’s her boss. Did you know anything about this?”

“Oh! Is it that sweet detective???” There is bustling from around the corner, and Lady Eleanor McQueen appears, her long evening gown twirling around her ankles. “Well, hello there, Detective! Now, Harry, I do hope you are being respectful to your sister’s guest! Let them in, for goodness sakes! It is deathly cold outside!”

Allison and Detective Sinclaire wipe their snowy boots on the front mat in the hall and Allison gives her mother a warm hug.

“Merry Christmas, Mum; it’s so good to see you,” she says. 

“Merry Christmas, dear,” Lady Eleanor answers. “I am so glad you could come back for the holidays. And you,” she adds, turning to look at Sinclaire. “I did hope you’d come back as well. You just keep looking better each time I see you. Your cheeks are so flushed!” She places her hands on each side of his face and holds them there for a few seconds. “What have you two been doing out there? Your skin is absolutely frozen, young man!”

“I am feeling very warm, I assure you, Lady McQueen,” Sinclaire explains, looking rather embarrassed at being caught in the grip of Allison’s mother with Allison standing next to him. “I spent a lot of time indoors. It’s your daughter you should be worried about. She looked even colder than I did when I met up with her. We’re both fine; we just needed to get out of the cold. I am very sorry if I made the wrong impression on your son.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Eleanor insists, dismissing him. “Harry is just looking out for his younger sister. He and Dominic have always been that way. It’s in their blood. They carry their father’s courage. Family ties, you know. I’ll have a talk with him and Dom later on about it. You are a guest in this house. As long as Allison feels comfortable with you, I do, too. She could have brought home someone much, much worse. Speaking of which, Dominic should be in the living room with Kade, and I haven’t any idea where my husband went. Come on in and say hello.”

Allison leads the way into the living room, where her oldest brother, Dominic, is entertaining Kade with a model airplane and some flight stories about his latest mission.

“Well, go ahead and tell the story of the famous Air Captain McQueen without bringing your little sister into it,” she remarks good-naturedly.

Dominic McQueen, Air Captain, pauses the story and puts the model plane down on the coffee table the moment he hears her voice.

“Junior Commander!” He gets up off the floor and races over to her, tackling her in a giant bear hug. He squeezes her tightly to his chest, kissing the top of her head.

“Hello to you, too, big bro.” Allison giggles.

“Man; I haven’t seen you in MONTHS!” Dominic remarks, pulling away and gripping her shoulders to study her. “You look great, sis. How’s the jungle treating you?”

“Oh, you know; it’s London,” Allison responds. “Big city life and all that. I’ve been hard at work running errands and helping my boss with case files. Whom, by the way, I brought with me to introduce you. I texted you and Harry to let you know he was coming, although Harry seems like he didn’t have time to read the message. Dom, I’d like you to meet...”

“Pleasure to meet you. Ernest Sinclaire, Private Investigator.” Sinclaire pulls out his badge and exchanges pleasantries before Allison can finish, smiling and extending his hand towards Dominic. “You must be Dominic, the eldest McQueen. Allison’s told me a great deal about you. I hear you’re a pilot?”

“I am indeed.” Dominic gives the newcomer a look almost similar to the one Harry had given him. “And you’re a cop. With a badge.”

“Don’t forget the pistol and handcuffs, too,” Allison adds. “He’s the real deal, Dom. I’ve been working under him for the past three years as his personal assistant. He has his own business in London. Ledford Park Detective Agency. He may be young, but he’s a very savvy businessman.” She sneaks a wink at Sinclaire.

“Thank you, Miss McQueen.” Sinclaire blushes under the praise, although he looks proud at her glowing recommendation. “Yes, it’s everything she said,” he says to Dominic. “I’m a private investigator with my own detective business, and I hired your sister to work for me after I learned she was studying criminal justice. Apparently she wants to be a crime scene investigator.”

“We know that, bud.” Harry appears almost out of nowhere. “Don’t think we don’t know our own sister, and yes, Allison, I did get your text message. I’ve just been so swamped with work that I haven’t had a chance to really read it. Boss or not, Mr. Private Investigator better not be taking advantage of his police skills to investigate YOU, and I mean that in more ways than one.”

“Harry!” Allison cries out. 

“He does have a point,” Dominic states. “Tell me, Detective. You say my little sister is your personal assistant. What exactly do you have her do?”

“It’s simple stuff, really,” Sinclaire explains. “She goes on errands, helps me with case files, organizes my schedules. It’s nothing bad. I’d never, ever put her in harm’s way without my being there to protect her. I know how much you two love her. She’s told me all about it already.”

“So she’s your slave then.” Harry frowns. “Don’t try and argue with me, Detective, but the way you’re describing her job, it’s definitely slave labor to me. Why does she do errands and organize your schedules? Is she your secretary or your assistant?”

“Harry, I really enjoy it,” Allison insists. “It’s not what you think it is at all. I’m not his slave. The reason he has me do certain things is because he doesn’t have the time to do everything himself. He’s the big boss man. It’s kind of to be expected. He’s got enough on his plate dealing with phone calls and emails all day from elite clients hiring his services. He gets paid very well. Did you know he’s the most popular P.I. in his field? People all over the place call in to his office asking for his help on cases. He’s basically the Sherlock Holmes of the 21st century.”

“I thought that was Benedict whatshisface,” Kade calls out from the couch.

“You know what I mean,” Allison replies. “And how’s it going with you, bugger? I haven’t even greeted you yet. How silly of me! You remember Detective Sinclaire, right?”

“Sure I do!” Kade answers enthusiastically. “After you guys left last summer, Mum and Dad couldn’t shut up about you. You remember me, right, Detective?”

“I do,” Sinclaire responds, winking at him. “How are you doing, Kade? You’re looking well. I see you got the cast off your foot. I’m so glad you’re walking again.”

“Yeah, I am, too,” Kade responds gratefully. “It took months, but they finally took it off. I’m pleased to announce that I am all healed up and walking around like a normal person. Mum said that she hopes I can keep it like that, although she knows me. Kade the Klutz. I can never go for one day without tripping over something.”

“I am happy for you,” Sinclaire tells him. “Elated, actually. It must be wonderful to not have that crutch on you. You definitely look healthier than I saw you last.”

“So how much of that money you earn goes to my sister?” Dominic is speaking. “I’m guessing that you pay her a percentage of what your clients pay you, right? What kind of clients hire your services? Private investigators are not common and therefore very expensive. We don’t get very many rich folks around these parts.”

“He’s got plenty of rich clients,” Allison answers, “and it doesn’t matter how much I get paid. I’m not working for the money. I’m working for the experience and the enjoyment. It’s just like you fly in your plane for enjoyment and Harry works cases at the courthouse for enjoyment. It’s always about more than money. Mum and Dad taught us that.”

“Sure they did,” Harry states. “And while I do enjoy being a lawyer, it’s also equally important to make a living. Mum and Dad taught us that, too.”

“So, since you’re a high-and-mighty detective with a badge and gun, and that’s cool and all, it still doesn’t excuse you for any harm you might put our sister in,” Dominic warns. “You got that, buster? I’d better not be hearing that you’re taking advantage of Allison the next time I get an update. London is a big city. Lots of crazies. Being a police officer proves nothing. Cops can hurt people just as much as anyone can. You’d best be using that pistol and handcuffs for protecting my sister and not throwing yourself on her. You don’t know what we McQueens are capable of doing to those that bring harm to our younger ones. I’ve had plenty of physical training in my pilot’s license program, and you can bet Harry can pack a punch on an unsuspecting citizen just like he does in the courtroom on murder trials.”

“I’ve got it loud and clear, Mr. McQueen,” Sinclaire answers, not even flinching. Being a private investigator also means getting used to threats. “As I said, I’m a detective. I’m certified to protect those I care about. Nothing bad will happen to your sister as long as I’m around. I won’t let it. I never leave anywhere without my pistol. I’ve got it holstered right now under my jacket, and I already told Allison that if anyone tries to hurt her on my watch, they’re going to be looking down its barrel in a flash.”

“How much of a flash?” Harry demands. “Can you be fast enough?”

“I’ve got a quick-draw arm,” Sinclaire answers. “Meaning that I’m fast as fast goes. My mates at the academy used to call me The Flash. I can pull out my pistol the second a lightning bolt streaks across the sky.” He stands in front of Allison in a protective stance. “I swear to both of you that I will keep your sister safe. Scout’s honor.”

“Is everyone ready for dinner?” Lady Eleanor’s voice calls from the kitchen. “The turkey is almost out of the oven. I expect all of you to get along at the table. This is Christmas. Detective, I have placed a chair right next to Allison for you to sit. You aren’t vegetarian, are you?”

“I am not,” Sinclaire answers. “I love meat. And thank you for the seating assignment.” He looks into Allison’s eyes and nods towards the dining room. “Are you ready for dinner? I’m getting famished.”

“I’m definitely ready,” Allison answers. “I was just going to ask Mum if you could sit next to me, but it looks like she was one jump ahead. We have a huge feast every year for Christmas. There’s something for everyone, so if you don’t like turkey, there are plenty of other choices.”

“I can already tell it’s going to be wonderful,” Sinclaire comments. “I don’t think I’ll be disappointed with the selection. I’m not a picky eater.”

[arabellaflynn]

For anyone who didn't catch it on other social media, I have finally moved out of the "temporary" apartment I was stuck in for 7 months, thanks to a lot of emotional and logistical support from friends, and a generous amount of financial support from the folks who gave to my GoFundMe. I am endlessly grateful to all of you, and if I weren't so goddamn tired right now I'd be more eloquent in saying so.

I've spent the past few weeks of unpacking and working out the bus routes around my new place trying to figure out how to explain what was so terrible about the last one. Most attempts devolved into page upon page of rage, which is not really what I want to be doing here. On the other hand, I also don't want to downplay how bad it was. 

Spoiler: The temp apartment was Very Very Bad.

The tl;dr is that I was offered someone's spare room on the condition that I help out a little extra with household chores and caring for their rats, because the pet owning roommate had recently had back surgery and was still mobility-impaired. What actually happened is that as soon as they realized I had any basic life skills whatsofuckingever, I was cornered into becoming the 24/7 on-call House Adult. I would have gone on strike, but the other two people in the apartment were so terrible at coping with absolutely any aspect of being alive that if I had, one or both of them would probably be dead now.

That is not hyperbole. I sat back at one point and realized that I had talked to 911 dispatch five times in the preceding four months. None of those calls were for me. To be clear, I ain't mad about other people having medical problems. All five of those calls were appropriate and necessary uses of emergency services. I just resent the hell out of being the default option for handling all of it, even though none of the medical emergency problems were mine, and there were other people in the house. Literally, Short Roommate had a catastrophic asthma attack one night, and when she was wheezing too hard to talk she passed the phone to Tall Roommate -- who immediately ran to the other end of the apartment, banged on my door, and handed the phone to me. It got to the point where I just told the operator what was up, went downstairs to unlock the door for EMS, stood in the corner answering the occasional question until they hauled someone off to the hospital, and then went right back to bed, because none of this was my problem. And that's just the 911 calls, not even counting the number of times I had to talk her down out of a dissociative episode, or any of the other shit I was not warned about and did not volunteer to do. They wore me down until my only response to "a fellow human can't breathe" is "fuck's sake, why am I even involved here".

They both needed a lot more, and a lot more professional, help than they could possibly have gotten out of a random civilian roommate. They both fought tooth and nail against actually getting any of it. Every time Short Roommate was dragged to the hospital, her discharge papers included a big fat packet full of social services, resources, and business cards for actual physical people to phone. I know this because whenever I cleaned the apartment, I found them on the fucking floor, whereupon I placed them on her fucking keyboard, and told her point-blank to call these people. As far as I know, she never did.

I am neither qualified nor equipped to be a live-in caregiver for anybody. There is a fucking reason I have never wanted children. I keep critters because if you give them food, water, toys, and boxes to sleep in, you can leave them to entertain themselves for hours while you work or sleep, and no one will arrest you.

There was a bunch of other stuff. Tall Roommate rarely if ever cleaned anything, including herself, unless directly ordered to do so and given a detailed list of instructions of what you meant by "clean". I only ever got her to wash her own damn dishes once, and I did it by messaging her from the other room 'I just found a mouse in the sink eating snacks off your dirty plates GO DO YOUR DISHES'. She had a laundry list of problems, but the relevant one here is that she was high-support-needs autistic with no support and zero inclination to find any. 

[Did I mention the mice? We had mice. All over. The rats murdered two of them when they got into the cages, looking for the free-feed bowl.]

Short Roommate clearly loved her rats but didn't actually do any of the rat care beyond petting and playing. One of them was tremendously sick at one point and needed meds q6h. She was supposed to be helping with that and didn't, which meant that I went several weeks on a maximum of six hours of uninterrupted sleep a night. I tore the fuck into her for that one, pointing out in exactly so many words that some of these meds were painkillers and if the rat didn't get them on time HE SUFFERS. Not doing any of the grunt work, Short Roommate evidently thought rats were so easy she should just keep getting more of them! She rescued two, one of whom was preggo, kept several of the babies, and started talking about waiting for one of the girls to grow up so she could breed him with one of her younger boys. 

Gentle Reader, I promise you the only reason I did not strangle her in her sleep that very night was that I knew, deep in my heart, that I could not move the body down two flights of stairs by myself, and if I left it up to Tall Roommate, the corpse would still be in the apartment today.

If I were inclined to any sympathy, it would have died when Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend and New Boyfriend's Mother. She initially took all the rats with her, which made them officially not my problem anymore, but I woke up one morning to a message that said something like "[New Boyfriend's Mother] says that if I show up to our new place with the rats she's not going to let me in, [Tall Roommate] is coming back with all the rats and everything they own". I found out later that this was because their new place was in section 8 housing, where you are not allowed to have pets that aren't service or support animals. Which Short Roommate had known the entire time, and just... made no plans for. At all. Unless "ignore everything until bitchslapped by reality, then panic and make unreasonable demands of other people" counts, I guess.

Eight rats. She dumped eight rats on me. Eight. I wound up taking care of them all without help; Tall Roommate was incapable of keeping anything in her habitat clean, including herself, and I wasn't willing to let her neglect animals. I was actually down to one rat of my own, having lost my two venerable old men, and was looking for a new friend or two for Tseng. Which I had to stop doing, because nine fucking rats is a lot of rats, and I couldn't in good conscience bring Rats nos. 10 & 11 into this shitshow. Naturally, none of the rats got along; two pairs of boys had to be kept apart, and both of them tried to pick fights with poor Tseng, and four of them were girls that had to be kept away from all of the boys for obvious reasons. It was exhausting and a catastrophe.

Once I had the rats she apparently made no further effort to re-home them, although she did keep telling Tall Roommate to come knock on my door and take pictures of them. (I put a stop to this. Tall Roommate did it because Short Roommate had broken up with her to shack up with New Boyfriend, and Tall Roommate had literally no way to cope with this other than try desperately to get her back.) I bugged her to do something about this until, predictably, I had to contact the local rat rescue people to find fosters less than a week before my moving crew was scheduled. When I told her, she replied "oh, I was just about to submit that". Sure you were. And while you're here, I have this nice bridge to sell you.

[The four girls and two youngest boys went to Mainely Rat Rescue. It looks like the boys have already found a home, but the girls are up for adoption. I kept the two old men, who both have special care needs; Garion has breathing problems that involve his own asthma inhaler and a steady diet of NSAIDs, and Errand has attitude problems that involve picking fights with any rat who isn't Garion. They're both just shy of three(!) and unlikely to find homes through a foster program, plus I'm already their third caretaker, so I couldn't send them off with a stranger. They are currently sulking because I wouldn't supplement their dinner with all of my dinner -- which is to say, they're fine.]

The point is, my brain just about died off. The only time in that apartment that I didn't spend cleaning up after three grown adults, two of whom weren't even me, were the weeks after Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend, which she had broken up with Tall Roommate to do, and Tall Roommate took it so badly she ended up inpatient before she ate a bottle of Tylenol. (I called 911 when I overheard her plans. It was about 50% "a fellow human is in need of help" and 50% "argh jesus fuck THIS IS NOT MY JOB please go talk to someone who is actually paid to deal with this".) I am slowly clawing my way back to the surface, so if you'll just bear with me, I'll be back on Twitch this Sunday 3-7 Eastern, and type out more things that have been on hold while I tried to retain at least some of my marbles.

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[snarkwriteswrasslin]

FFT: second one to know, adam page

Notes:

This is another fake fic title ask sent to me by @adampage​ on my old writing blog (which is now my main) It’s part 1 of a 2 part thing, so the second part will be posted right after this.

Summary:

Giselle and Adam are best friends. Also helplessly, hopelessly in love with each other. Giselle gets dumped by a shitty boyfriend and is left without a date to go home for the holidays. Enter Adam. 

Pairing:

Adam Page x OFC, Giselle

Warnings:

Uhh, none.

“Now princess, don’t get upset. I told you from the beginning when you asked me to… Do that.. That I might not be able.” Sean stared her down and took a few deep breaths. Just the prospect of her getting upset and making a scene and making him look like the bad guy.. When he saw her tearing up, he grumbled. “Don’t make a scene. We’re in public for God’s sake, have some class.”

Giselle stared up at him, a hand in her hair as she took a few long and deep breaths. When he told her to have some class, she gave a hollow laugh because suddenly, it hit her.. He was just saying that work was the reason he couldn’t make the trip to meet her family. In reality, he felt like he was better than her family. Better than her.

Suddenly everything he’d said to her became clear as crystal and she realized she was essentially nothing more than a plaything to him. She was a rung on the ladder of his career. Having her on his arm drew him attention, gave the illusion that he had his shit together and he was what a successful company needed.

“Have some class, hmm?”

“Giselle, don’t start. I don’t have the time or the patience for one of your tantrums. Now I’ve said I’m sorry. And you need to accept that. In relationships, we compromise.”

… no, I give and give and give and forgive and you do NOTHING… the thought as it hit her prompted her to finally say something.

“I don’t accept it. And what we have isn’t a relationship, Sean, c’mon..”

“It is?” Sean eyed her, a brow raised and an irate look on his face as her voice raised just a hint. Giselle stepped closer and she snatched at the necklace around her neck. “Go find yourself a new fucking toy to play with.”

She turned to walk away, intent on finding her friends or finding a quiet place and calling her mom to explain what happened -and hear her mother say those dreaded words, and as she did, he gave an amused chuckle. “Are you really breaking up with me right now?”

She tilted her head slightly and pretended to think it over. “Yeah. Actually you holier than thou piece of shit, yeah I am.”

“Just know that I set the bar. You’re never going to find anyone who can bring what I do to the table.” Sean called out after her but she continued to walk, shoving through the crowd as she focused on keeping herself reasonably together until she could find a quiet and private area to fall apart in.

She felt drained and yet, somehow as if a huge weight had been lifted off her. She wasn’t dreading his excuses or lies anymore. She wasn’t having to listen to his little casual remarks about her or her upbringing or her job or anything he liked to nit pick about.

“How the hell was I so stupid?” she wondered aloud, shaking her head sadly as she sank into a seat.  She bought her knees to her chin, listening to her flight boarding and yet not rushing to it immediately.

… I’ll get a later flight, it’s not like I don’t know what they’re all gonna say when I show up without Sean anyway… they all told me he acted like he was too good for me…

XXX

Hangman tensed as he watched the whole thing go down. He stood there a second or two, torn between going after her and going after her now ex boyfriend and throttling the guy.

“Don’t waste your time on him, buddy.” Kenny spoke up, nodding in the direction Giselle disappeared to instead.

“Yeah, go find Giselle, she looked really upset and they’re calling her flight now.”

Adam took off after his best friend rather than go pull her ex out of line for his flight and beating the guy senseless. He found her sitting in a lesser crowded waiting area, staring out the window and for a second or two, he worked on calming himself down.

… if she were with me that would never have happened… I’d never do that…

… well, man, here’s your shot… you gonna shoot it or stand here and think about shootin it all night…. That last thought spurred him forward and he made his way over to where she sat.

After a few seconds of just sitting there, he put his arm around the back of her chair, resisting the urge to comment on how soft the jet black curls were as they brushed his arm.

He cleared his throat, trying to think of just the right thing to say at the moment. She shifted to lean against him and wiped at her eyes, laughing and shaking her head. “I can’t believe I ever thought that guy was the one.”

Adam shrugged and muttered something about the way love makes people crazy sometimes because he couldn’t think of anything else to say that wasn’t the truth.

“Yeah well there’s crazy and there’s plain stupid, Hangman and I’m afraid that right now, I fall into that second category.”

“C’mon, hon, don’t say that. I happen to think you’re pretty damn great.” Adam leaned in, wiping at her eyes with his thumb. He noticed that the flight she was supposed to be getting on was already departing and he swore, quietly.

“It’s okay. I’ll just.. Take a day to pull myself together.” Giselle shrugged as if it were nothing, and Adam nodded.

“At least call your family. Tell ‘em.”

“Don’t remind me.” Giselle gave a weak laugh as she took a few deep breaths and then stood. “C’mon. I’ll walk  you guys to your flights.”

“We’ll walk them.”

Giselle eyed Adam and he stared right back at her. “I am not gettin on a flight and leavin you here alone.”

She bit her lip, starting to protest, but Adam plugged his ears. “I’ll stay until you get a flight. We can get a hotel room and have a sleepover or somethin’.”

“Okay, fine. But I’m gonna warn you now. I’m probably not going to be much company.”

Adam chuckled and gave her that grin of his as he shook his head. “I’ll keep ya entertained. Promise.”

Somehow, Giselle didn’t doubt it, but she still felt guilty, making him delay his own plans to return home. “You don’t… have to do this.” she tried again to protest, to talk him out of staying behind just because she was. But Adam wasn’t hearing it, pressing a finger into her lips and cutting her off mid sentence. They wandered over to where Cody and Brandi stood talking to Kenny and the Bucks, saying their last goodbyes before their flights departed.

Kenny flashed a knowing grin as he set sights on them. “Finally.” he mouthed as Hangman gave him a warning look and mouthed back, “Not right away, damn.”

Adam slipped his arm around her and despite herself, she leaned against his side, staring up at him. It didn’t surprise her at all he was doing this. Adam was just that kind of man.

“They’re calling our flights. See you around, Page.” Matt and Nick gave their friend a hug and Kenny eyed Giselle and Adam. “Don’t both of you have flights?”

“We’re catchin a later one.” Adam answered as Kenny chuckled and nodded, stepping up to hug Adam and using the hug to whisper to his friend, “ If you keep waiting on the perfect time, you’re gonna miss out, buddy.”

Adam nodded and then turned his attention to Giselle as their friends boarded their flights. Clearing his throat, he nodded to the parking lot. “If we want a hotel room, we might wanna leave now.”

“Yeah, true. I just hope we can find one.”

Her cell phone rang and she eyed her mom’s number, finally sighing and muttering “Best to just get this over with.” as she stepped away, answering her mom’s video call.

“Darlin? Why are you still in the airport, hm?”

Giselle honestly meant to answer her mother, but before she could, her mother was swearing under her breath and then sighing. And naturally, her mom went there.

“That guy of yours blew ya off. See, this is…” her mother started to say it but Giselle spoke up calmly, “Yeah, look. I missed my flight fighting with him and breaking it off between us, so if you’re about to say I told you so, get it over with because I am so exhausted, Mama.”

“Where are ya? You’re not alone, right? Because you don’t make the best decisions…”

“I’m with Adam right now. He missed his flight too, so we’re going to catch the first ones out in the morning I guess. What the hell do you mean I don’t make the best decisions? Nevermind, mama, don’t answer that. I… I’ve gotta go. I don’t want to argue with anyone else tonight, especially not a literal brick wall.”

She hung up and Adam chuckled quietly from behind her as he dragged his hands through his hair and eyed her in concern. “You okay, Ele?”

“My mama being herself, of course.”

“Yikes. Let me guess, they adored that jerk?”

“Oh, no, she hated him. Hindsight being what it is, I can’t hold that against her, but you know how she is… Treating me like a child no matter what I do. It’s a mess.. Can we just.. Go now? Please?”

Adam nodded, picking up her bag as he slung his across his shoulder and Giselle went to take the bag from him. He shook his head. Their hands brushed and Giselle stared up at him, biting her lip and staying totally silent for a few seconds.

“What’d she say that got you all wound up, hon?” Adam asked as they walked out of the airport and towards the rental car that luckily, she hadn’t returned earlier. Giselle sighed and looked up at him, giving a sheepish laugh. “She’s right, I mean.. I don’t make the best decisions.”

Adam stopped them in the doorway of the airport and looked down at her, shaking his head. “She’s not right. You just thought ya loved the guy. There’s nothin wrong with that.”

“I think she was referring to all my other so called mistakes. She gets like this when my sister comes home with all the grandbabies, starts trying to meddle in my life because it’s not EXACTLY what she wants it to be.” Giselle sighed and shivered in the cold. Adam held out his jacket and she eyed him. “It’s freezing out here, are you insane? You need that. I’m fine, the car’s not far.”

“Take it, woman. Stop being so damn stubborn!”  Adam chuckled, holding the jacket out again. This time Giselle took it, snuggling down into it, letting the smell of her best friend fill her nose because he always smelled so good and it always made her feel better somehow. She pressed into his side and peered up at his phone as he muttered, “There’s a hotel not even a block away. We’ll try there. You eat anything tonight? I’m starvin.”

Giselle’s stomach growled almost on cue and she shook her head sheepishly. Adam eyed her and she admitted with a shrug, “I was running behind. I thought I could just grab something when they came around on the plane.. Then get actual food when I found a hotel on my all night layover.”

“Woman, what the hell? Look, we’re goin to find an Applebee’s or somethin.” Adam chuckled, shaking his head at her as he put his arm back around her and they walked towards the yellow Challenger she’d been so excited about snagging when they all rented cars earlier in the week. Giselle put the keys into his hand and Adam unlocked the car, opening her door. As she went to lower herself into her seat, they brushed against one another and Giselle found herself just… Sort of staring at him.

She took a deep breath. It was that feeling she seemed to get a lot lately around him. The one she couldn’t quite pin down. The one that had her tingly all over.

Adam caught her gaze, fingers tucked beneath her chin to make her look at him. “Hey… it’s gonna be okay, darlin. What you did was the right thing.”

“I know. Honestly? It doesn’t really hurt. I’m… More disappointed in myself than anything. Like… how did I not see that about the guy?” Giselle shook her head and sighed, taking a few long breaths as Adam pulled the car out into traffic. They were pulling into the parking lot of an Applebee’s near the airport and he snickered quietly, realizing that she’d just really started to doze off. Reaching out, he tapped her shoulder and cleared his throat as he leaned in.

“Hey.. we’re here, Ele.”

Giselle sat up, rubbing at her eyes and stretching. Adam was getting out and walking around, opening her door for her and again, as she got out, she wound up standing close to him, the jacket he’d given her to wear beyond big enough to swim in. Adam laughed when he caught her staring up at him, making the joke that he had to have something in his nose and she shook her head, choosing to stay quiet.

“We goin inside, or?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Adam couldn’t help but ask again and Giselle shrugged, but gave a half smile. “I don’t honestly know right now but I think.. Maybe.”

Truth be told, she just felt relieved to an extent. It hurt, but at the same time, it didn’t. Then again, she reminded herself, this is just the night you finally had enough. There’s no telling how you’ll feel about this in the morning.. When it actually sinks in.

She tried not to think about it. Just like she fully intended to continue doing. She didn’t want to think about any of it, from how stupid she’d been to choose a guy like Sean to begin with, to just how blind she’d let herself become while she’d been with him, to how more than likely everyone -from her family to her co workers, could see right through him.

Adam nodded, staring at her intently while also trying not to do it. “That’s good, darlin. I mean it, you’re gonna be okay. You’ll see.”

“You say that like you don’t know what a mess I am.” Giselle hugged against him for warmth and Adam tensed slightly, arms tightening around her. His nose lingered in her hair and he took a few deep breaths. “You’re not a mess.”

“I kind of am.” Giselle argued. Adam shook his head at her no and she sighed. “Fine. I’m starving. Let’s just go in and get food.” it was her way of changing the subject because suddenly she was picking up on this heavy lingering tension and realizing that tonight was not the first time it had been present.

That it seemed to hang heavily in the air whenever she was around Adam.

Something Riho said earlier in the month, when they’d all gone out for Halloween, it came rushing back to her.

.. no, that’s not it… i mean, i am attracted to him but like… that’s all it is, it has to be, I’d know if it were more than that, right?… she thought to herself as they found a back booth and scanned the menu.

XXX

“ I will… Never try to eat that much again, fuck.” Giselle groaned as they stepped into the hotel room they’d just gotten. Adam’s lack of a laugh at her comment and the way she went about being overdramatic about it immediately drew her attention to what he was currently fixated on.

The room they’d been given only had one bed.

Giselle’s mouth opened and closed and before she could stop it, that feeling was back, fluttering through her insides, making her heart race a little. She dragged her fingers through her snow dampened hair and opened her mouth to say something but Adam had apparently been thinking the same because he blurted out with a shrug, “You take it, darlin. I’ll be fine, I’ve slept on worse than that couch thing.” he nodded to a loveseat that despite it’s upscale design, looked about as comfortable as a boulder.

Giselle started to shake her head, but Adam was grabbing a pillow and stopping in front of her, a hand lingering close to her hip as he stared down at her. “It’s fine. Take the bed.”

She didn’t argue - it wouldn’t have done a lot of good, Adam was a stubborn guy, she knew it from experience as his best friend, and she flopped onto the bed, letting out a long and slow breath.

“Are you sure? I mean..”

“Darlin, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.” Adam reassured her, even as he sank down and grunted because the little two person sofa gave… Nothing at all. The so called cushions felt like brick covered in black pleather.

And given the fight he’d been in earlier at the arena, it wasn’t the best feeling.

Giselle tried to settle into the giant King sized bed after wiggling out of her clothing, but watching him toss and turn and try to get at least a little comfort left her feeling guilty because what the sofa lacked in the way of comfort?

The bed was like a cloud covered in pale blue sheets.

After turning out the lights, she tried to go to sleep and she just… Couldn’t. Everything from the day so far was rushing through her mind only to fleet just as she’d try to grasp one solid thing, one tangible thought.

Until the most unexpected one of all crept in..

… You’re both adults and Adam is not comfortable over there… Sharing the bed… Nothing has to happen and you do feel really comfortable with Adam…

This was the one solid thought she grasped onto and as if she were on autopilot, it’s the thought that had her sitting up in bed and reaching for the switch to the lights. Adam grunted, shielding baby blue eyes from the harsh flourescent overhead lights because he’d been just about to finally fall asleep.

“Everything okay over there, Ele?” he called out.

The tone of his voice half asleep had her gasping quietly. She sat there a second or two, trailing her fingers lazily over the thin blanket on the bed. “No. It’s not. I…”

“Yeah?” Adam was on his feet and making his way across the room to her, sitting just at the edge of the bed, his back to her.

His eyes met hers and she swallowed hard, nodding to the bed. “We’re adults and watching you over there barely fitting onto that fabric covered boulder.. I’d just feel better if you slept on the bed too? Please?”

Adam eyed her. Everything inside him insisted that he should protest -especially given the way he felt about her and what she’d gone through earlier, but one look into those eyes of hers had him nodding. “Okay, fine.”

She smiled and patted the empty side of the bed and Adam pulled back the sheets getting in and getting as comfortable as he possibly could, all things considered. He tensed a little when she slipped her leg between his, an arm going over him as she cozied right up to him from behind.

“Adam?”

“Y-yeah, hon?” he stammered out, taking a deep breath, trying to resist the urge to roll over and just kiss her already, no matter how shitty the timing might be for it at the moment.

“Thank you for being there. Thank you for being my best friend.”

… Darlin if you knew just how much I wanted to be so much more than that… The thought came and Adam tried to push it to the back of his mind. After a few seconds, he answered quietly, “You deserved better anyway. As far as tonight, and bein your friend.. I want to because you’re an amazing person. You don’t have to thank me.”

“ I know,” she yawned, her cheek nuzzling right against his bare upper back as she moved even closer, “but I wanted to. Because I.. You don’t know how much it means to me. How much you kinda mean to me, Hangman.”

“Night, darlin.”

“Night, big guy.”

XXX

Adam woke up to the sun streaming in the windows and to discover that during the night, he’d rolled onto his back. And that apparently, Giselle draped herself across his body. He took a deep breath and watched her sleeping for a few seconds. He carefully reached out for his cell phone on the nightstand and when he caught sight of the fact that the sun was so bright for a very good reason, he sat up, rubbing his hand through his hair.

On the one hand, she was sleeping so well.. As upset as she’d been the night before, he’d honestly been afraid that she’d have a rough night full of tossing and turning.. On the other hand, they both had flights to get on.

… or A FLIGHT.. Because it’s not like you have anything in particular to go… the thought snuck in before he could stop it, and he shook his head at himself.

He leaned down and gently shook her awake. “Hey, Ele? We have exactly ten minutes to get dressed and get over to the airport for check in.”

Giselle shot up in bed, biting her lip as doing so as fast as she had led to the sheet wrapped around her upper body very nearly falling down. She blushed a little and Adam turned his head.

After grabbing the shirt she’d taken off at some point during the night and tugging it down, she tapped his shoulder and yawned. “I was sleepin so good. Parts of me are really dreadin this whole goin home thing..”

“Yeah?”

“Well.. I know how my mama is.”

She fidgeted and Adam felt his breath literally catching hold in his throat, found himself hoping despite it all that she was about to hint at what he felt like she might be.

Giselle took a deep breath and caught his gaze. “ I don’t.. Nevermind, it’s dumb.”

“No, no.” Adam tilted her chin, making her meet his gaze.

“You’ve probably got plans and the last thing you wanna spend Christmas doing is hangin out with me..”

… you couldn’t be more wrong if you tried… he thought to himself as he chuckled and eyed her, a teasing hint to his voice, “Ele, are you tryin to ask me somethin?”

“I was, yeah.. But it’s dumb. I mean you’ve already done this..” Giselle gestured to the room they’d spent the night in and she took a deep breath. “It’s just I… When you’re around, I feel better.”

… and maybe I just want to… i don’t know, give myself the chance I’ve been too afraid to take before and get to know you better….  She realized she’d gone silent and she added quickly, “We don’t have to tell them we’re dating or anything, I promise..”

Adam chuckled, staring at his hands as he pulled himself together. What she was asking was… a huge deal for him. And there was something a little different about her this morning, in the way she kept looking at him, and all the little touches.

She leaned against him and sighed. “Sorry.” - followed by an awkward but cute laugh. Adam chuckled and turned to the side so that he held her gaze. “You don’t have to be sorry. Yeah. I’ll come back with you.”

“Wait, huh? R-really?” it caught her off guard and she bit her lip, catching his gaze, feeling relieved when she saw that smile of his.

“That bein said, darlin.. We’re kinda down to 8 minutes.”

“Shit.. But I don’t wanna get out of this bed.” Giselle pretended to whine, pouting even as she looked up at him as he stood. She turned away quickly when she realized just how little happened to be covering his body.

Her cheeks heated in a blush and despite looking away, she may have peeked through her fingers, sucking in a sharp breath.

“It did feel really comfortable.” Adam sighed and gazed at the bed -and her, as he grabbed his discarded jeans and tee shirt. He’d just finished dressing when she slipped out from between the sheets, grabbing her own jeans, tugging them up her legs. It called entirely too much attention and Adam had to turn around completely.

Even that did no good because the mirror over the dresser gave him a view. He coughed and called out, “About done, Ele?”

Giselle tapped his shoulder and waved up at him, nodding to the door. “Yeah. We should get going now.”

“We should.”

In her hurry to get dressed, she’d grabbed one of the tee shirts he had out the night before. He chuckled and she looked down, palming at her face and quietly groaning before giving a mumbled “Fuck it. I have zero time to change. And it’s comfy.”

“Looks cute on ya too.” - it came out before Adam could stop it, making her blush all over again. They stood there, migrating closer and closer for a few seconds until finally, Giselle grabbed for her backpack.

“ You can’t say I didn’t warn you in advance. My family is a little.. Out there.” she told him with an amused laugh as Adam smiled back at her and held the door open for her, “I can’t wait to meet them.”

[violetganache42]

I HAVE RETURNED FROM TENNESSEE!

God, this is like, what? The second time I've used this GIF?

Man, these past few days have been an enjoyable experience for me. I don't even know where to begin! Oh, wait… I actually do. I think it’s best for me to break it all down day by day.

* * *

Friday

As previously mentioned, Thursday night marked the start of the mini-hiatus because Mom and I had to make sure we could catch our 6:55 AM flight to Nashville on time. Needless to say, we only got a few hours of sleep; however, thanks to us getting the caffeine from our colas and trying to nap on the plane, we were awake enough to explore the downtown Nashville area.

As you may have guessed, Nashville is a popular place for country music and a lot of the attractions in the Lower Broadway area is full of clubs and honky-tory bars. No matter where you go, day or night, there is always a bar where people perform country music live for the patrons.

Nashville also happens to be the place that harbors the Johnny Cash Museum, which was the first stop of the weekend.

As you can tell from the first image, this artifact was made entirely out of steel that was salvaged from the destroyed World Trade Center, which is where the One World Trade Center/Freedom Tower currently stands. The second image is a piece of memorabilia: the Martin D-35 guitar Johnny Cash used when he was alive as it was his favorite Martin guitar to play on stage for two decades.

Speaking of country music, Nashville had recently hosted this year's CMA Music Festival and Garth Brooks took home the award for Entertainer of the Year. I wasn't even sure if it was coincidental or not since this weekend in Tennessee was primarily about his concert, but I'll get on that later. In the meantime, another neat place we checked out was the Country Music Hall of Fame… well, specifically some of the gift shops.

Yes, one of the gift shops has a wall filled with nothing but records from all kinds of country artists.

Outside of the country-related sights, we also checked out a couple more places within the Nashville area like a local candy store called the Candy Kitchen. Everywhere you look, there were all kinds of store-brand and local candy, caramel apples, fudge, ice cream, etc. Combine that with the aroma of pure sugar and you end up either feeling like you've gone to candy heaven or your teeth ended up rotting because of how many sweets this place had.

They even have giant ass Dum Dum lollipops for crying out loud! Like, how the hell are you supposed to eat something that huge?!

Later that afternoon, we weren't sure what to do in Nashville between the bars, party tractors, and what not, mostly because we weren’t in the mood to check everything out due to the little amount of sleep we got. As a result, we did a bit of online searching and found a pretty cool mall not far from the state's capital.

Yep. That's right. That is what this mall is called. The name alone was enough to give me Sonic vibes and I'm certain y'all know why. Hell, they even had three parking lots each labeled emerald, gold, and ruby; I lowkey wished they added four more parking lots and have them named after sapphire, amethyst, diamond, and aquamarine just so it can keep reminding me of Sonic, you know? Specifically the seven Chaos Emeralds? ...*coughs*...

Anyways, that's kinda how Mom and I spent the rest of our Friday: having dinner at the Cheesecake Factory and poking at some shops they had before returning to Nashville to see what it was like at night. I will say this right now: they fucking love partying.

Saturday

The next day of the trip was mostly spent driving up to Knoxville for the Garth Brooks concert, which I was able to get a decent number of photos because it was crazy. When Mom got the tickets, she said it was going to be a stadium concert and I thought it was going to be similar to Taylor Swift's concert at Gillette Stadium in terms of crowds, but holy shit! Was I wrong! When you've got a college football stadium filled with 84,000 people attending, it's bound to get fucking cramped, so comparing both stadium tours, this easily takes the cake for the wildest concert I've ever been to thus far. Nevertheless, I still managed to have fun.

Because the Tumblr app—as far as I know—only allows 10 photos per post, I decided to condense some of my favorite photos I've taken for the rest of the trip into collages to try and satisfy the limit, but it appears I may have made more collages than I anticipated, so the rest of this post will be typed via laptop. To kick off the series of collages, here are some of my favorites pictures I’ve taken of Garth.

Sunday

Sunday was the last day of our weekend in Tennessee, so having done the stuff mentioned above, how did we spend the majority of yesterday? By driving through Sevierville and Pigeon Forge, with the latter being the home of Dollywood!

Before going on this trip, Mom and I discovered Dollywood wasn't far away from Knoxville, the same town where the concert at the University of Tennessee was held. She tried to figure out ways to make additional plans to go to Dollywood to see their Christmas traditions, but we ultimately chose to save it for another time because we wanted to make sure we arrived at the airport early enough to board.

On that note, what proved to be the icing on the cake for this trip was what Mom would call a happy accident: viewing the Great Smoky Mountain Range.

The collage with the light blue background is a portion of the several photos I've taken of the Great Smokies as we were driving through a road in Sevierville that offered wonderful views from the distance. The one with a wooden background is during our trek through the mountain range; on top of the photo of the national park sign, we made a few stops along the way because those stops had some marvelous views.

And now comes the pièce de résistance. The happy accident of this trip. While taking pictures of the views at the first stop, we noticed some buildings down below; a couple of them resembled hotels, but we weren't sure what the rest were. As we were leaving the mountains, we immediately entered what we saw from above: Gatlinburg.

We didn't take a lot of pictures there because we were too mesmerized with what Gatlinburg had to offer as we were driving through: shops, an aquarium, museums, ski lifts, hiking, and so on. Everywhere we looked, there was nothing but endless entertainment, just like Pigeon Forge! They are even all decorated for the Christmas season, and honestly, I definitely wouldn't mind spending Christmas in Gatlinburg in the foreseeable future. Renting a cabin, seeing what the resort has to offer, my sisters and brother-in-law joining with Mom, my brothers, and myself to celebrate the holidays. That would be super amazing. ☺️

* * *

Anyways, that pretty much sums up the major events of my weekend hiatus. Posting and queueing on my main and Sonic blogs respectively will return to its regular schedule. Plus, a little something I've been thinking about doing, but what is it? You'll have to find out when the time is right. ;) Until then, see you guys later!