#i don’t know if this happens across all of australia but i just unlocked a core memory of mine

[monacodaydreaming]

Against All Odds | Part One

The continuous stream of notifications and the dull light of your phone screen pulled you from your sleep. You blinked your eyes a few times trying to moisten them as they were dry from having been shut for so long. You reached out in the darkness and grabbed your phone whilst sitting upright in your bed. Your eyes widened as the notifications on your phone wouldn’t stop. One after one they just kept coming, from TikTok, instagram and even messages from your friends. You looked at the time on your phone to see that it was three in the morning. 

You unlocked your phone and went straight to your messages, hoping that these would shed some more immediate light on what was going on. 

Annie: Ells?

Annie: Ellie are you awake?

Annie: Have you seen what’s going on!!

Annie: God your phone must be blowing up

CeCe: I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE IT

CeCe: ARE YOU STILL BREATHING?

CeCe: OMG CAN YOU ANSWER ME PLEASE !!!!

Milo: Lewis Fucking Hamilton wants to meet you.

Milo: Mate, I need you to answer me 

Milo: Fuck me this is wild.

Your eyes widened as you read over the first text again. ‘Lewis Fucking Hamilton wants to meet you’. You immediately closed your messages down and went straight to instagram, you clicked on your profile and you couldn’t believe what you were seeing before you. You had gained over 30,000 followers. You had an endless stream of notifications. 

“What the fuck is going on?” You spoke out into the darkness. You clicked onto the explore page and typed in Lewis Hamiltons instagram handle. From a quick glance at his page you couldn’t see anything directly having been posted about you. You clicked on his profile picture and began watching his stories. They were currently in Australia as the first race of the season would be happening this Sunday. You continued clicking until you came across a post of a reel that looked familiar popped up. The reason it looked familiar was largely to do with the fact that it was yours. Your eyes widened as you read over the words that appeared alongside the repost of your video.

‘I want to meet this girl @_ellsdrives’ 

This could not be happening. You closed down your instagram app and went to your phone to dial your best friend.

“Ellie! Jesus, I thought you might have just spontaneously died.” Milo spoke into the phone. “Are you okay?”

“It’s three in the morning....I’m freaking out a bit I won’t lie.” 

“I’ll say.”

“I was asleep, I only got back from New York a few hours ago.”

“You know he even mentioned you in a press conference right?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been watching all night.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping Milo.”

“Insomnia, anyways I’m gonna send you a clip. It’s mad mate, he says your full name and all.”

“What?” Your phone buzzed in your hands at a video from Milo. “I’m just putting you on speaker for a sec.” He only hummed in response. You clicked play.

‘I love finding talent on social media, I think it’s honestly a great way to find the next generation of drivers. I think as the world progresses you have to think of new ways for people to get into the sport. I was on instagram the other week and I discovered this young girl, only about 25. Errr Ellie Love her name is….incredible driver, such an incredible talent and an obvious love for cars. These people are the future.’

The clip cut there. “I don’t even fucking know what to do right now.” You spoke back into the phone.

“If I was you I would watch the clip about 5 more times, and then message him on instagram obviously.”

“Saying what?!” 

“Saying anything Ellie, literally anything! Saying thank you so much for reposting my video…saying my phones been blowing up non-stop….saying you’re a huge fucking fan.”

You rubbed your temples, feeling a migraine coming on. “I need to get some sleep Milo, what are you plans tomorrow morning?”

“Nada. Breakfast?”

“Please” you pouted through the phone.

“I’ll pick you up at 10, we can go to Minnow.”

“I’ll see you then tank.”

“See you then mush.”

__

When you woke the next day, you refused to look at your phone. You got up and got ready without taking a glance at anything on it other than the time. When Milo rang you at 10am to say he was waiting outside you slipped your phone into your pocket and headed down to meet him.

“If it isn’t the newly world famous Miss. Love” Milo said a little too loudly for your liking as you opened the passenger door.

“Shut up you knob people will hear you.”He only laughed at your words, starting to drive off as you did up your seatbelt.

“How did you sleep?”

“I didn’t” you groaned, and it was true. Since you got off the phone with Milo last night you tossed and turned until you need to get up to meet him. 

“I can’t believe this is happening to be honest with you.”

“Well that makes two of us. I don’t understand why he’s said what he’s said on TV?” You paused looking over at Milo. “I feel like I need to watch the full thing to understand the context.”

“He was asked about his age and how much longer he felt he would be driving for. Then he mentioned about how he knows he can’t go on forever, but how him and Toto already have an understanding that even after he retires from racing he wants to still be involved with the team.” 

“So what he’s looking to recruit his own replacement?” 

“I guess…in some ways yeah.”

"But he can't retire..not yet anyway." You were looking blankly straight ahead. "He's Lewis Fucking Hamilton"

"He is Lewis Fucking Hamilton."

__

You had eaten breakfast, continuing to chat shit with Milo. Still refusing to look at your phone. 

"Okay, it's time. You need to message him."

"I'm scared." 

Milo looked at you blankly "Why are you scared."

"I don't know" you poked your phone that was on do not disturb on the table. "Just am."

"Come on mush. It's time."

You sighed "okay, okay." You tapped the screen, it coming to life showing the thousands of notifications that were there. You unlocked it and went straight to instagram, immediately checking your profile to see what your follower count was now. 

"Christ alive. I'm up to 56k." 

"Fuck off"

"This is insane" Next you went and searched for Lewis again this time clicking on the message icon on his page. You paused over the screen for a little while before you began to type out a message.

@_ellsdrives: Mr. Hamilton...you have got a lot of explaining to do. My phone has been blowing up non-stop. Just wanted to say thank you for reposting my video..and even mentioning my name in that press conference. I'm honestly a little starstruck right now.

"See what you think of this please" You handed your phone over to Milo and watched him read it whilst taking another swig of your coffee.

"Yeah good good, send it!" He passed your phone back to you before quickly looking at his watch. "They'll still be awake over there at the moment."

"Okay, I'm sending." You hit the send button and then decided it was time to look through some of your notifications. You had been followed by not only Lewis Hamilton on instagram, but two other F1 drivers as well. "Milo. I'm freaking out." He looked at you concerned "Pierre Gasly and Sebastian Vettel have followed me on instagram as well."

"You might have just become the coolest person I know."

You playfully threw your napkin at him from across the table. "Mate, I was already the coolest person you knew. No doubt."

"True true."

__

You were back at your flat scrolling through your social medias when you received a direct message from the man himself.

@lewishamilton: sorry to catch you by surprise. I was just amazed by your talent. We're in Imola next weekend for our next race. Mercedes would like to fly you out. What are your plans?

__

“Miss Love?” A man wearing a suit, holding a little sign with your name on it approached you.

“Yes!” You answered with a bright smile on your face. “But please, it’s just Ellie.” The man smiled at you in return. “And this is Milo.” You turned slightly introducing Milo to whom you assumed was your driver.

“Please, follow me. I’m going to take you straight to the circuit, but will drop your bags at the hotel for you.” He reached out to grab your suitcase and started leading the way to the car. Since the initial conversation with Lewis, things had got a little crazy. Mercedes had invited you and a friend to fly out to Imola and meet the team. Naturally you were bringing your friend Milo with you who was a huge F1 fan like yourself. You couldn’t believe how quickly the actual day had come around. 

When you got into the car, you were greeted by a young woman named Melissa. “Hi guys!” She beamed brightly at you both. “I’m Melissa and I’ll be taking you down into the paddock today where you’ll be met by Toto.” She started to hand you both something, but you were still too focused on what she just said.

“I’m sorry, but did you just say Toto?” You were baffled.

“Yes.” She smiled. “If you could just wear these round your necks, these will get you through the gates and they’ll just let everyone know that you’re VIPs with Mercedes this weekend.”

You looked down at the VIP pass that was in your hand with a picture of yourself that you had to send over earlier this week.

When you arrived at the circuit you and Milo thanked the driver and followed Melissa down to the gates where you scanned your passes to gain entry into the paddock. As you and Milo both went through you couldn’t help contain the little squeal that came out of your mouth. You did a little jump in front of Milo who laughed at your actions. You apologised to Melissa and continued to follow her through the paddock.

Walking down the main strip was a surreal experience. It was something that most people only got to see on TV. Never in your life did you imagine that you would be here yourself, as a VIP guest of Mercedes. 

As you were walking you noticed a familiar face heading towards you from the opposite direction. It was Pierre Gasly. Time seemed to slow down a little as you took in the man in front of you. He was looking at his phone. First thing you noticed is that he was taller in person than you thought he might be and in many ways he was way more attractive. You were a little shocked when his head raised and his eyes locked with yours. He abruptly stopped in his tracks and a smile overtook his face.

“Ellie?” He questioned. You were gobsmacked.

“Yes?”

“That is so weird! I was just watching a video of yours on instagram!” He turned his phone screen around to show that he was in fact watching a video of you driving.

“Well that’s a bit surreal for me I’m not going to lie.” You noticed as his eye line moved to Milo who was stood behind you. “This is Milo” You introduced. Pierre held out his hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you Milo.” He redirected his attention back to you. “Lewis mentioned you would be here this weekend. I have to run, but I hope to see you again later. I want you to take me for a spin around the track.” He dropped you a wink.

You were left in disbelief unable to say anything as he walked away, without looking back. You and Milo began following along behind Melissa again. “Pierre Gasly knows who you are.”he teased in a sing song voice.

“If you don’t shut up right now I’m going to knee you in the bollocks.” Milo let out a loud obnoxious laugh at your words.

[winter-fox-queen]

Kisses Like Wine: Part 3

In honor of the new photo, I think I will post this now. :)

Warnings:  Nothing, the reader remains a blank canvass.  Might have cursing.

Summary:  The reader is working undercover where she things the next heist will be, while trying to figure out the Thief's ways…

Note:  There really are diamonds in all these colors!  I spent way too much time looking it up.

“Joe F. Gambrel and Co., how may I direct your call?”  I shifted in my seat a little.  The chair was not that uncomfortable, but I felt like I was definitely out of my comfort zone.  I listened to the person on the other side, put them on hold.  Started an email to my boss.  Took them off hold.  “I am so sorry.  Mr. Larsen is in a meeting, may I take a message?”  I typed the message in the email, hung up, hit send.

This was the shape of my day.  Take messages for my reprobate boss, who was never in the office, and try to look like someone else.  Act like someone else.

And, most of all, case the joint.  I wondered, briefly, if the Thief ever called his work that…casing the joint.  Probably not.  He did not look like someone who used twenties gangster slang.

As I wandered the office suite, I hoped I was not wasting my time.  I was working for a high end antiquities firm.  If you wanted something, they got it for you.  They did not have a lot of staff, and the bosses seemed to be out of the office more than not.  The floors directly below me were home to a large business dedicated to restoration.

I’d been studying, and I was ninety nine percent sure that this was the next place the Thief would break into.  The crown was — just a crown.  Pretty, historied. I suspect he took it because he could, not because he wanted it.  After all, it had been right there.

No.  He had come for the Star.  Almost a half a year prior, someone had stolen The Golden Queen.  And now, if I had guessed right, he would be coming for a incredibly rare, beautiful pink diamond called The Compass Rose.

I went and looked at it, not for the first time. At the top floor of the high rise, the company — and Keith Larsen — kept the Compass Rose on display in an act of hubris that was sure, if Greek Myth was any indication, to anger some God eventually.  It was in a huge room, the ceiling was all glass that arched up to a sharp point that was illuminated at night.  The floor was marble, the walls a warm sandstone.  Four benches, one on each side of the pillar that held the diamond’s display case.  One wall held a fountain and greenery, meant to look like a small, exotic waterfall.  The water trickled softly as I went as close to the case as I dared.  And there.  The largest pink diamond that had ever been discovered in Australia, glittering deep rose.  It was one of a kind.

My thief was collecting a full set.  There were three diamonds, including this one, in Midas’s Rainbow that the thief had not stolen.

He could have gone after one of the other ones.  I could be wrong.

But I wasn’t.  I couldn’t be. I had bribed my way in, under a new name with a perfectly wrought set of identification papers, even a credit card.  I dyed my hair and carefully applied my make up so that I made my face a little different.  So if I ran into him, he wouldn’t immediately know it was me.  It was not, probably the best plan, but my training consisted of books and watching Leverage.

I was staring at it too long, the security guard peeked in.

“Miss?”  The security guard peeked in.  Older man, with warm, friendly eyes and a lovely voice that seemed not to match his age.  We’d spoken a few times on my daily check of the diamond.  No one was allowed to be in the room too long, and he was gently reminding me it was time to go.

I went out the door, leaned against the wall next to him, and asked the question that I’d been asking myself for weeks, since I started working here.  “If you were going to steal the Compass Rose, how would you go about it?”

He stared at me for so long I thought he was going to go report me.  “That’s not a smart question to be asking, around here.”

“There’s no harm, though.”  I said.  His voice bothered me.  I wanted more, if I could listen to it a little longer…

He shook his head and didn’t speak.

“I’m sorry if I offended.”

He gave me a gentle smile, touched his ear and pointed to a corner of the room.  Then he shooed me towards the door.

Back at my desk I snuck out my steno notebook from its hiding place in a stack of unused notebooks in my desk drawer.  It was where I kept my plans.  Layout of the building.  Everything I learned.  Since my purse could get searched at any time, I only had it at work.  One steno pad looks like all the others, right?  Locked in my drawer, under a box of tampons.

The fountain has to be the way in. There needs to be a way to service the pipes behind the wall.

If I could break something in the fountain without getting caught, someone would have to fix it.  Someone would have to open the door or the hatch, and I’d know how to get in.

And the thief always liked distractions. But what kind of distraction would he manage to create?

My work day ended, I grabbed my purse, made sure my desk was locked, and started out.

“Honey?”  The first front desk receptionist called after me.

I smiled and crossed over.

“I just wanted to remind you, tomorrow they are bussing in a bunch of high school students to tour the floors so they can see what it takes to restore old art.”  She smiled at me.  “You’ll want to make sure to get here early before they get here…it’s going to be a madhouse.”

Cue distraction.

The next day I went to see the madhouse for myself.  I wanted to see the teachers.  Most were women.  I didn’t discount them completely, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t shave his mustache if he could avoid it.  There.  Curly, dark hair.  Tweed jacket with elbow patches.  What century did he think this was?  I followed him as he ushered bored looking kids, careful not to let me see his face.  Finally I went around a dented suit of armor and managed to get face to face with him.  “Hey!”  I said cheerfully.

It wasn’t him. Eyes too far apart, nose too small, just not him.

I apologized and walked off just as one of the teachers asked, brightly, “Can we see the Compass Rose?”

“Well.  There’s no reason why not.  The public are allowed to go in, but only one at a time, I think?” The woman who had gotten stuck showing the group around said.  I hid as quickly as I could, not wanting to be pulled into the conversation.

I walked back to my office, hoping no one had noticed I’d slipped out, to be sadly disappointed.  My boss was sitting on the corner of my desk.

“Where were you?”  He asked me.

“Just wanted to see what all the noise was about.”  Behind him, the lady security guard who switched on and off with the one I usually saw stood, looking that part angry, part unamused way only a security guard could.

“Open your desk.”

“What is this about?”

“The Compass Rose.  It’s gone.  I want to know if you have it.  You spent enough time looking for it…made jokes about stealing it.  So.  Did you?”

I unlocked the desk and the guard pushed me aside, dumping the contents on my desk.  I held my breath when she flipped through the notebooks, but they all were empty.

Empty.  Oh, no.

I let her paw through everything I owned.  Let her pat me down.  “Unless she swallowed it, sir, I don’t think she has it.”

“I didn’t swallow it!”  I let panic creep into my voice.  It was not hard.

I let them x-ray me.  I did.  I admit it.  The lab tech a few floors down gave me sympathetic looks as I stood there, shivering, in my gown.

And then I let them fire me.  The frustrating thing was the lack of knowledge.  They refused to let me know anything.  What happened?  How?  Why?  Was a playing card left behind?  I wanted to know.

But most of all I wanted to know where my notebook was.

Two days later as I packed up my apartment, I received a package.  My name…my alias, rather, in quotes.  Quotes.  I grabbed a letter opener and ripped it open with more force than I needed.  I suspected, already, who would be cheeky enough to put quotation marks around my fake name.

My notebook.

The last page, there was a five of diamonds tucked in like a book mark. The back of the card the same as the one I carried with me wherever I went.

Across the last page he’d written, “A five star card for a five star effort.  Not bad for your first try.  I wish I’d thought of the fountain.  That was clever, if a bit damp.”  A couple of crabbed notes along side my own.  Suggestions.  Not actual plans.  No, I’d need to catch him to find out how he did his theft, if he could be convinced to tell me even then.

I sat down, hard.  He knew where I was.  Where I lived.  Knew I had a steno notebook, knew I’d hide it because I could have my belongings searched.  How?  How did he learn so much about me?  I thought over the people I had met, since getting that job.

I imagined large hands carefully drawing things out of my purse, lining them up neatly on the marble of the entry way desk.  “Sorry about this, miss.”  The guard’s voice said, as he went through my things.  Large, but graceful hands.  A warm voice that bothered me because I’d heard it before.  The security guard.  He’d been guarding the damned diamond all along.

“Five star effort? Oh, I’ll show you.  I’ll show you.”

I worried about telling my family of my failure, then I realized.  He’d given me a clue.  The cheeky bastard had given me a clue.  Because one of the other diamonds was kept in a five star hotel overlooking the Rhine.

He was telling me that he was going to steal the Heart of the Rhine, a mossy green diamond worth millions.  Now, if only I could believe him.

Thank you to you lovely people for being on my tag list, if you want added or dropped just let me know.  <3

@grogusmum @mishasminion360 @hnt-escape @littlemisspascal @pedro4ever @writteninthestars18 @fromthedeskoftheraven @sharkbait77

@quica-quica-quica @eri16 @the-blind-assassin @ayoungpascallover-readings @songsformonkeys

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 6)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2313 Warnings: none

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 5 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Buzzing. There was constant buzzing in your ear, a combination of all the sounds around you blurring into an indiscernible mix you forced yourself to focus on. The steady drone is too slow for the quickened bounce of your leg shaking against the floor of the Uber that’s bringing you to your destination much faster than you expected. Your stomach is twisted in painful knots that sear deeper as you see the illuminated sign of Metro-General Hospital.

The way you’re feeling makes you want to head left through the emergency room doors but instead you charge ahead towards the main entrance. After giving your name you move to the side and await instructions from the security guard.

The buzzing hasn’t stopped though you quickly realize the pulsating vibrations were coming from your phone inside your bag. Quickly checking it you saw a text from Bucky wishing you good luck on the interview. You smiled seeing his name, feeling a moment of relief.

There was a shift in the air after you opened up to him the night before about why social work meant so much to you. Bucky had a much clearer understanding of you, commending the drive you had to come so far even with the obstacles you faced. You exchanged numbers before he left, acknowledging that Bucky was no longer just your neighbor but someone you considered a new friend.

The security guard hands you a visitor ID and gives you instructions to get to Ms. Rodriguez’s office from the elevator. Smoothing out your blouse you gave a friendly smile to the fellow passengers that entered as the doors opened to almost every floor on the journey up.

Two right turns and then a left at the nurses’ station until you found the corridor with blue doors. You rang the bell that buzzed a second later and pushed open the now unlocked door to enter an open room. A woman sits at a desk in front, gesturing for you to sit down on the row of chairs behind you as she continues her phone conversation.

Her desk is covered in a stack of thick manila folders, with one file open in front of her that she references on the call. You try not to eavesdrop despite being right there so you move your head slowly to observe the rest of the room. Cubicle walls divide a few other desks beside her. The walls are lined with tall file cabinets and a large potted Ficus drinks up the sunshine in the corner.

At the back of the room is a door that unexpectedly swings open, having been pulled so hard it seemed like it could have come off the hinges. A tall slim girl is scowling as her boots stomp down the hallway. She’s dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket as dark as her loose, uncombed hair. A woman steps out from the doorway, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Follow protocol Ms. Jones and we’ll get him.”

The girl turned around scoffing, “We’ll get him faster if I throw his ass through a wall.”

“Jessica,” she warned, flaring her eyes at the girl in a silent challenge.

It only took a moment for you to realize the woman was Ms. Rodriguez and suddenly your stomach began flipping again.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” she asked and you nodded, standing up to greet her with a handshake and a smile.

She asked you to follow her into her office, watching her thick braid sway as she walked ahead of you, holding the door open for you to enter. Her office wasn’t very big, or maybe it only felt that way since it was surrounded by even more large file cabinets.

“I apologize for that,” she began, “Jessica thinks using her fists might yield more results. This is a tough field, tell me what you wish to get out of it.”

Having recounted the full story with Bucky you were emotionally prepared to discuss all aspects of why you wanted to go into this field and it was clear to Ms. Rodriguez that you wanted to make a difference in the lives of those you were advocating for.

Her fingers twirled the large silver cross around her neck as she stared at you, your nerves rising under her silent gaze. Her face eventually relaxed into a smile and the weight was lifted from your shoulders as she welcomed you aboard as an intern. You couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across your face but when she began talking hours and scheduling it quickly dropped. You explained working full time and the hope you had for fulfilling your internship hours in the evenings.

“The issue is that some patients require our help to connect them with outside organizations to provide services and it’s unfortunate but most places stop answering their phones before 5 o’clock. There is a lot you can learn from us here but I would expect some daytime hours, otherwise this internship does not benefit you and I don’t mean to be frank but I can’t have you waste my time.”

Her straightforwardness made you feel nauseous but you understood. Your goal was so close, 1200 hours away until completion. You weren’t going to let it slip away.

“Thank you Ms. Rodriguez. I would love the opportunity to still do my internship here with you. If you’ll allow me the opportunity to speak with my employer, perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

This may be another obstacle in the road but you were going to get through it, somehow, someway.

The following day you woke up earlier than usual despite your lack of sleep. You almost texted Bucky at night, asking him to play anything in hopes the sound of his music would help drown out the anxieties in your mind. Instead you tossed and turned all night, unable to shut off your brain.

You didn’t want to text him anyway, knowing he would ask how the interview went. You avoided Steve and Wanda’s texts as well, seeking refuge at The Grind House but instead of doing research papers you worked on several plans. If you couldn’t make Stark Industries work with your internship then you’d have to find another job, or two, or three if need be.

You would make this happen no matter what but that didn’t ease the pit in your stomach; the familiar sense of dread that weighed you down uncomfortably like sandbags on your shoulders. Optimism and fear were fighting for dominance in your mind and for now you gave in to all the fears and worries. There would be no telling what path you would travel next, not until you spoke with Maria.

Steve wasn’t in yet so you were thankful to not have to run into him in the morning. The clicking of your heels against the tile floor echoed throughout the empty lobby. You couldn’t help but tap your foot, impatiently waiting for the elevator to arrive. Lost in thought you didn’t hear the footsteps of a person come up beside you. It wasn’t until you entered the elevator and were surprised to see someone else walk in.

Dressed in a sharp three-piece navy suit with a deep red tie stood Tony Stark. A perfectly trimmed goatee framed his smile as he took off his tinted sunglasses.

“G-good morning Mr. Stark,” you nervously greeted.

“Morning miss….” The word slithered on his tongue, dragging out the sound as he combed through the information of his brain to remember your last name. “Y/L/N!”

“You know who I am?” You didn’t mean to sound so pathetic but the words blurted out before you were able to stop them.

“That’s right kiddo. I know everybody that works for me,” he boasted.

He pressed his lips together forming a tight line, and he checked around the elevator as if you weren’t the only people there.

Tony leaned in closer to you, whispering, “Actually, that’s a lie. There’s one guy up in legal whose name I can’t ever remember. Is it Gary? Glenn? Gene? Geor– you know what, never mind. I know his face. That stays between us, okay?”

You nodded your head, but couldn’t help the odd chuckle that fell from your lips.

“So, are you angry?”

Your posture straightened, tensing up after his question caught you off guard.

“Before. The tapping?” He tapped his foot to mimic your earlier actions. “Pepper does that when she’s angry, usually at me.”

“Oh, no I… I’m just eager to speak with Maria about something.”

The elevator doors opened and Tony gestured for you to step out first.

“Might be a little difficult, she won’t be back for at least a few months.”

Worry settled on your face as Tony explained he asked Maria to head Stark International and begin overseeing their newest office in Australia.

“I had no idea…” you trailed off, wondering what this means not only for your internship but your job. “I’m her assistant…”

“That’s on me,” Tony said, raising his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, this was a real last minute decision. I know Maria thinks highly of you so if you’d like we can arrange for you to join her down unda,” he said with an accent.

“No!” You didn’t mean to shout. “I’m sorry. I can’t go there. I…I....” your voice trailed off as your lip began to tremble, feeling yourself plummet deeper and deeper into a pit of fear and uncertainty.

Tony noticed the panic on your face and the short gulps of breath you were taking. He guided you to the nearest chair and asked you to focus on taking long, deep breaths and blowing out steadily.

“You still have a job here if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said softly.

Tony’s eyes were full of compassion and based on everything you knew from Mr. Lee he made you feel comfortable enough to want to open up to him. With a deep sigh you explained your situation, from needing this job to afford an apartment up until the internship hours you were hoping to discuss with Maria, all the while still ensuring he knew how grateful you were for the job you had.

Tony pondered for a bit before the elevator opened and a few employees shuffled in, greeting him with surprise.

“Follow me,” he asked of you, following him to his grand corner office with floor to ceiling windows showcasing a beautiful view of the golden sunrise.

You took a seat on the soft leather chair in front of the sleek obsidian desk. His office was decorated with oversized black and white photos of old planes and cars, a few personalized touches and a small wet bar off to the side and yet everything seemed sterile. Maybe it was the way his own chair squeaked as he sat, like it was still being broken in.

Your fingers twiddled in your lap as you anxiously waited for Tony to break the silence. He gazed at you for a little longer, nodding slightly and quirking his head as if he was having a silent conversation with himself.  

“Stan told me you were a good kid but I wish he knew about your background. I would’ve put you on my team a long time ago.”

Your head twitched, taken aback. “Your team?”

“Me, Pep, a few others. We’re in the beginning stages of building a nonprofit organization, The September Foundation. I want it to change lives; develop after school STEM programs, fund student research, the whole shebang.”

The tendency you had of not shutting your mouth when you should have continued as you questioned why he thought you were appropriate for this.

“You want to help people, same as I and being part of this doesn’t look so bad on a resume.”

“My hours…”

“...can be flexible,” he finished. “We’ll work out the details but the job is yours.”

Tears of joy flooded your eyes but you held them back, closing your lids with relief as things were finally coming together.

“Thank you Mr. Stark, thank you so much!”

You shook his hand enthusiastically and turned on your heel with a smile. You nearly made it to the door before realizing you had no idea what to do now especially with Maria no longer there.

An awkward bubble of laughter came up as you asked, “What should I be doing today Mr. Stark?”

“Please, call me Tony,” he flashed a bright smile. “Greg or Graham or whatever his name is will finalize the legal paperwork in the next few days. Use those days to brainstorm. Tell me what communities you think we need to be in, what would benefit most, what would draw kids in. On Monday you’ll meet with everyone else to go over ideas.”

With a renewed sense of spirit you went to your desk, first to write Maria a congratulatory email on her new position and then to call Ms. Rodriguez about the internship, afterwards you went straight to work.

“Steve!” you shouted before the elevator doors finished opening, running as best as you could in heels towards him. “I have so much to tell you! I got the internship! I have a new job here! I’m– ahhhhh!”

Steve wrapped you in a firm hug as your excited ramblings turned into squeals of joy.

“We have to celebrate!” you beamed. “I’ll call Wanda and Sam and…”

You stopped to think about Bucky. He was new in your life and yet somehow the idea of celebrating without him felt wrong.

Later that night you knocked on his door, sporting a wide smile that spread across your face. It stretched even wider when he opened the door and blessed you with a sparkling grin.

Opening your mouth you said the first words that came to mind, “Will you go out with me?”

PART 7

[devilatmydoor]

under the mistletoe I c.t.h

a/n;  this fic is based off of mistletoe by justin bieber (its easily one of my fave songs by him)  and prompts i found on here 

prompts used - “You’re under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss.” “I guess… this is when we kiss?” 

summary; attending ashton’s annual christmas/holiday party you arrive at the same time as calum. you step inside to are faced with the inevitable truth- your feelings for calum. 

pairing; calum/reader // word count; 1,115 masterlist // ficmas masterlist // 

warnings; drinking/alcohol & fluff 

You flattened your outfit as you stepped out of your car; unlocking it you walked towards Ashton's house towards his annual Christmas Party. You smiled when you'll recognized a familiar face meeting yours. He smiled at you and waved as he got closer, he stretched his arms out for a tight hug as his scent engulfed your lungs. 

"Hey you, I thought you'd be here already!" 

"I forgot what time it started!" Calum chuckled as you walked towards the front door. 

"When do you leave for the holidays?" He asked with a smile as his shoulder brushed yours.

"Monday, I thought it would be better to head out the week before Christmas than the week of." You mentioned, as Christmas Music welcomed you to Ashton's house before entering.

"Oh that's so soon!" He leaned against the door.

You asked “When are you leaving for Australia?"

"I'm not going this year, my family is coming here for the first time for Christmas." He said excitedly as he stood up straight remembering he was at a party.

"Oh that will be exciting!" You smiled as you opened the door, Ashton, Kay Kay and Michael standing nearby.

You looked up to see why they were all smiling like idiots at the both of you when you stepped in at the same time.

Mistletoe.

It was hanging right by the front door.

"Look who's under the mistletoe!"

Calum's cheek turned bright red as he realized what was going to happen next. "Who put mistletoe right by the front door?"

"Who do you think?" Michael retorted with a giggle.

"We didn't come together-"You started to say as Calum chimed in.

"So we probably shouldn't."

"Yeah plus I need to run to the bathroom." You lied as Ashton crossed his arms.

"You're under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss." Ashton asserted as you faced Calum for the incoming kiss between the two of you.

"I guess..this is when we kiss?" Calum said nervously as his body faced yours.

"I guess so." You hesitated to learn forward not wanting to make it obvious.

He leaned forward and pressed his soft lips in a heart stopping kiss, his hands yours cupping your face as you poured everything you had into kissing him. You'd dreamt of kissing Calum for as long as you could remember; it was so cliche to be in love with your best friend but how could you not be?

The wolf whistles and cheers brought the two of you back into the party as his lips left yours. He cleared his throat before your eyes met his and he slowly moved his hands away from you.

Calum walked up to Ashton whose jaw was slacked, “That was more than just a kiss dude.”

“Change of subject Ash, why put the mistletoe right there?”

"It was Luke's idea to put it there, we didn't think you two would walk in together!"

"I wanted to kiss them on my own, not enforced." Calum mentioned as he sighed.

“Mate, I don’t think they mind.." Ashton winked as he showed Calum the spiked eggnog.

Sierra, Luke and Ashton talked to Calum as they drank the eggnog. Calum's eyes met yours across the room. You looked away as Crystal walked up to you with a giant smile on your face, "Spill. I need to know how that kiss was."

Sierra joined as you gushed about the infamous kiss that you couldn't stop thinking about. Whenever you closed your eyes it replayed in your head; his warm hands on your face, how effortless and perfect it was considering you'd never kissed him before. You felt his eyes on you as you finished your story, your cheeks turned pink as you grabbed a cookie and slowly ate it to mask your anxiousness.

He groaned as he saw you lick your lips in an effort to clean remaining frosting. "Mate you need to stop staring at them."

His eyes met Luke’s as he blushed, "I can't stop thinking about the kiss if I tried."

"Do you really want to?"

"Absolutely not, but I don't know how they'll feel.." Calum sighed finishing his cranberry punch.

"They kissed you back Cal, the only way to truly know is to talk to them.”

"You've got a point, I just keep replaying it in my head." Calum mentioned as he put his hands in his pockets, "I'm gonna go outside."

Luke patted him on the back as he made his way towards the front door; you caught Calum leaving and realized you wouldn't sleep tonight if you didn't talk to him.

You opened the front door as Calum's eyes met yours. He smiled as he put his cigarette in his pocket. "Hey."

"Hi, did I stop you from leaving?"

"No, I was gonna smoke. What's up?" He asked as he put his hands in his pocket.

You attempted to swallow the ever growing lump in your throat; how were you going to tell the person you’d been in love with for so long you couldn’t remember a time you weren’t in love with him?

“I’m guessing you want to talk about the kiss.”

“Yeah, Cal I understand if you don’t feel the same way as I feel about you but that kiss, ” You blurted; his gaze fixed on you as he stepped closer to you making the space between you non-existent. “Was perfect.”

“I feel the same way, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” He admitted as you stepped closer to him as his hands held your waist as you bit your bottom lip in anticipation.

.”I can’t either, not that I want to stop.”

His lips ghosted over yours, “I should’ve known when you kissed me back”

“I should’ve known by the way you kissed me” You swooned before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He sighed happily before kissing your lips softly, “Imagine how I’d kiss you if we were alone.”

“We’re alone right now Cal” You giggled and he chuckled realizing how stupid he sounded.

“In that case.” He breathed before his lips attacked yours passionately as he held your waist, you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer as you stood in front of Michael’s house kissing as the world around you disappeared. He softly licked your lower lip as you opened your mouth fully to deepen the kiss, your bodies pressed together as you made out. Unsure of how long you’d been making out- it could’ve been 10, it could’ve been 40- when he says with his husky voice, “Let’s get outta here, yeah?”

You nodded, “Absolutely, lead the way.”

taglist- @blackheartedcal @himbocalum @sunflowerxcal @lukeysdimples @blackbutterfliescal @suchalonelysunflower @wastelandcth @myloverboyash @calumrose @mashlums @boytoynamedcalum @feliznavidaddycal @icyicejuice @calumscalm @saintlaurentcalum @calumswildflowerz @spicycal @notinthesameguey​ @cheekysos @tpwkatsumu @esbisos @bandsanitizer @talkfastcal 

[honouraryweasley12]

A Magical Melody

This was written for the amazing @adenei for the HPRomione Discord Secret Santa 2020. If you’re not following her, you are missing out on some excellent Romione content.

Also on FF.n

Summary: Ron gets an education on Muggle music as he and Hermione visit her home and share some tender moments after the war.

Ron's loud footsteps echoed in the kitchen as he barrelled down the stairs of The Burrow, breaking the quiet peace.

"Morning, Mum."

Molly was busy at the stove, preparing breakfast for the Weasley clan. She greeted her youngest son as he strode toward the table.

He slid into the chair next to Hermione and pressed a kiss to the side of her head, both of them blushing under Molly's gaze. She was watching them wistfully, before turning back to a pan of fried eggs.

"Morning, love."

Hermione grinned at him, slowly getting used to the terms of endearment he seemed so fond of using. "Good morning."

He dropped his head onto her shoulder and snuggled close before letting out a wide yawn.

"How did you sleep?"

"Good, until I woke up and you weren't—"

She kicked him under the table, shutting him up. The fact that she'd been sneaking into his room at night to fall asleep in his arms was not something she wanted Mrs. Weasley to hear about.

"Sorry," he murmured in her ear, causing a pleasurable shiver to run through her body. She loved that they could be so close now, after denying themselves for so long.

His volume increased significantly. "How did you sleep in Ginny's room?"

She tutted under her breath, but played along with his charade nonetheless. "I was fine; no nightmares."

"Good. Why are you up so early? I thought I finally convinced you that sleeping in was good for you."

She paused for a moment, running her fingers up and down the teacup in front of her.

"What is it?"

"I've been thinking..."

"That's not a surprise."

Hermione rolled her eyes affectionately and continued on.

"Ever since your Dad and Bill finished checking my parents' home for curses and traps last week, it's been on my mind. What state is the house in? Should I do something about it or wait?"

"You usually don't wait for anything... except maybe me," he quipped.

"I know, I hate just sitting here, knowing there is something to be done," she fretted, completely ignoring the rest of his comment. "I even rang the energy company from the village, when I went with Ginny and your mum the other day, and everything should be reconnected by now."

Ron scrunched his eyes in deep thought. "Electricity, right?"

Hermione nodded. "What if... what if we go to my house today? See how things are? We're still waiting for the paperwork to go to Australia, and it would be nice for them to have a home to come back to." Her voice dropped to a strained whisper. "If we find them."

Ron ran his large hand gently up and down her back, the warmth through her thin shirt soothing her as he leaned forward. "We'll find them, I promise. I think visiting your house, now that it's safe, is a brilliant idea. I've always wanted to see where you grew up."

She turned her head in surprise, throwing him slightly off balance. "Really?"

He sat up and nodded, before looking down and picking at the wooden tabletop to avoid eye contact. "It was always one of those things I wondered about, but if I told you, I was scared you'd realize how much time I spent I thinking about you."

Her face softened at such a sweet, honest admission. It wasn't the first time he'd surprised her with the depth of his feelings in the short time they'd been dating. Before she could reply, Mrs. Weasley let out a sniffle and dabbed her eyes with her apron, before hustling over and placing two plates in front of them, stopping to ruffle Ron's hair.

"Geroff, Mum!" His complaint was half-hearted, causing Hermione to giggle.

"I'm just so happy for the two of you! Now, tuck in."

Ron rolled his eyes, but reached for Hermione's hand under the table, their fingers linking together. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

~*~

A quiet pop, barely noticeable in the late Spring afternoon, signalled the arrival of the couple in a posh suburb. Arriving in a small tree-lined area, they emerged onto the sidewalk, hand-in-hand.

Ron shook his head, slightly disoriented from the Side-Along. They thought it was the safest way to go, since he wasn't familiar with the area where Hermione lived. His eyes widened as he took in the houses they were walking past. "Wow, these places are really fancy."

"Dentists tend to do quite well financially, so my parents bought our home in a nice location, both to live in and as a sensible investment. Their goal was to sell it when they were older and retire to the coast."

Ron nodded, still looking around in awe.

"Look, there it is!"

He directed his attention to the neat, two-storey brick home. It wasn't the largest on the block, but certainly not the smallest. It seemed quite grand and spacious for a family of three.

As they reached the front door, Hermione paused and let out a shaky breath. Ron placed his hands on her shoulders, coaxing her to face him.

"You did the right thing."

She took a moment and nodded, her body still trembling. "It just feels surreal to be back here, now that everything is over."

"From what Bill said, it seems like the Death Eaters realized it was abandoned and didn't cause much damage. I think he and Dad set most of it right already."

She nodded, and pulled out a key from her pocket.

He watched her carefully as she unlocked the door and turned the knob. She peered into the dark, a beam of sunlight highlighting the dust in the air. Overcome by sudden emotion, Hermione's eyes welled up, remembering the times she had spent there with her family. Her missing family.

A second later, her nose was pressed into the softly worn cotton of Ron's shirt as he comforted her.

"You are amazing." The deep timbre of his voice was muffled by her hair. "What you did to protect them took so much, and it'll be over with soon. We're going to find them and bring them home."

She gripped him harder, tears soaking into the cloth. She hadn't realized how much her actions had cost her. How big of a weight it had been on her soul.

"I couldn't do this without you," she said into his shirt.

"I'm here for you, no matter what happens."

She wiped her eyes, before pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Thank you."

Letting out a deep, far calmer breath, Hermione turned to the doorway.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

She stepped in and flipped the familiar switch on the wall. The light in the entrance hummed to life as she surveyed her home for the first time in a year.

"Wicked!"

Ron's enthusiasm seemed to shake her out of her thoughts as she shuffled aside and let him in, locking the door behind him.

He looked around in wonder, taking it all in. She in turn was watching him, a small smile playing across her lips. He spied her expression and grinned back. "So this is it, huh? The famous Granger residence."

"I don't know how famous it is, but it's home."

Ron was fascinated. "Everything is so neat and tidy, and the walls are so straight, unlike The Burrow. It does seem much more welcoming than Harry's Aunt and Uncle's. I think that's the only other Muggle home I've ever been to."

She too glanced around. She hadn't realized how much she missed the place she grew up.

"The rest of our things aren't even out yet. I shrunk the valuables and concealed them in the attic."

The lights started flickering, causing Hermione to jump. It was then she noticed her boyfriend, flicking the switch on and off rapidly.

"Ron, what are you doing?"

"Lights on, lights off. This is fun! You should try it."

She grabbed his hand, stilling it. "You can play later. We have work to do first."

Ron groaned, his head flopping back in protest. "We don't have to clean the Muggle way, do we? I still have nightmares about Grimmauld Place."

She playfully poked him in the side, causing him to flinch. "No, we'll use magic this time. We can get the cleaning done quickly, then we can start rearranging the furniture and putting things back in the cupboards."

He kissed the top of her head, before making a sweeping gesture. "Lead the way."

The two set about cleaning the empty house, the thin layer of dust coating the surfaces quickly removed. Hermione opened the curtains and windows, letting in the fresh breeze. With the aid of magic, it only took them a short amount of time to get the main areas of the first floor looking like new.

Hermione was just finishing the kitchen cabinets as Ron stopped to examine some of the appliances.

"I really should have taken Muggle Studies," he remarked as he took a closer look at the electric kettle. "Some of this stuff is interesting. I can see why Dad is so obsessed."

"Your Dad's interest in Muggle gadgets is quite unique amongst magical people, isn't it?"

"It's completely barmy."

"No more than obsessing over books or Quidditch."

He shrugged. "I guess everyone has their interests."

Hermione suddenly gasped and raced to the stairs leading to the second floor. "Wait here."

Her footsteps thumped around above him for a few minutes, until she finally reappeared and descended the stairs, her face flushed.

"What have you got there?" Ron asked as she reached him. In her hand were a number of tiny brown cubes.

"You'll see, come with me." She grabbed his hand, their fingers locking automatically, and practically pulled him to a small room at the back of the house. "This is Dad's den."

The empty built-ins were the perfect place for floor-to-ceiling books. "Your own personal library. No wonder you're so excited."

She chuckled and shook her head, before gently placing the small cubes on the floor.

"Stand back."

With a quick wave of her wand, the cubes expanded into a large pile of assorted boxes. "It's my Dad's collection. Instead of gadgets, music is his passion."

She gleefully opened the first box to find it full of cardboard sleeves. She extracted one and pulled out the thin black disc from inside to show Ron.

"These are records. They aren't as popular anymore, but a lot of purists love them. The music is imprinted in these grooves here."

"Ooh!" She said, shoving the record back into its sleeve and handing it to Ron. "Let me show you these."

Hermione moved a few boxes and found the one she was looking for. The inside revealed piles of small plastic rectangles.

"What am I looking at?"

"These are called cassettes, or tapes," she explained as she opened the case and removed the cassette, pointing out the spools inside. "The tape within contains the music. And last but not least—"

"There's more?"

"Yes!" She opened a third box and pulled out a jewel case. "These are called compact discs, or CDs."

Ron's head was spinning now as she passed him the silver disc. He held the CD in his hands, watching as it caught the light and revealed a rainbow of colours across its surface. "So why does music come in all of these different containers?"

"You'll find that Muggles are creative and adaptable to new technologies. We're constantly inventing and refining how we do things. Innovation moves much faster here than in the Wizarding world."

Ron nodded, gesturing to the records and cassettes. "So all of these have been made in the last few years?"

"Records were more popular in the 1960s and 70s, cassettes in the 80s, and CDs in the 90s. When I was here for Christmas the year before last, my dad had a new computer. He was showing me that digital music can now be downloaded as MP3 files. He thinks it's the future of music."

All Ron could do was shake his head in disbelief. "I don't understand half of what you just said, but I'll take your word for it."

He watched in fascination as she opened more boxes and stacked a number of large rectangular devices on the shelves, then untangled a spool of wires.

Ron was peering at the electronics. "I think my Dad has some of this stuff in his shed!"

"These actually play the music." She pointed out the different devices to him. "This is a turntable, it plays the records, and this is a stereo with both a cassette player and a CD player."

She directed him to lift up the large speakers and place them in the corners of the room.

"What are you doing now?"

"I'm connecting the speakers so that we can hear the music. Think of these as boxes with a Sonorous charm on them."

He watched as she deftly ran the wiring and plugged everything in.

Her eyes were alight with excitement to share this with him. "What shall we listen to first?"

Ron shrugged. "Whatever doesn't sound like the rubbish Mum listens to."

"No, of course not. Muggle music has much more variety. There are so many genres: pop, rock, classical, country, hip hop. Luckily, my Dad has very diverse tastes."

"You're taking the mickey! There's no music called hip hop! Is it made by rabbits?"

She snorted. "It's completely true. I think it's more popular in America."

She started flipping through the records, trying to find something that might appeal to Ron. "Oh, this should work! The Weird Sisters were inspired by this type of music, so it should be familiar."

Ron shrugged. "I never really paid that much attention to them before."

"Surely you've heard Ginny playing their music. They played the entire Yule Ball!"

He suddenly looked pained, his mouth a thin line as he quietly responded. "Like I said, I haven't paid much attention."

Noting his tenseness, she turned back to the audio equipment. "Well, let's see what you think about this."

She fiddled with the knobs on the turntable, before pulling out the record. With a light scratch of the needle arm, the familiar static sound of a record playing filled the room.

Hermione suddenly stomped her feet and clapped in time with the loud music.

Ron clutched at his chest, broken out of his stupor. "Bloody hell!"

She grabbed his hand, her excitement contagious as he reluctantly joined in the pattern. A man's excited voice sang and Ron couldn't help bobbing his head. Hermione was smiling widely watching him.

As the music swelled, she cried out the familiar lyrics. "We will, we will rock you!"

Ron's deep voice hesitantly joined hers as their combined singing echoed off the walls. Once the song came to an end, Ron couldn't help but express his admiration, his mood lifted.

"That was brilliant!"

"See, I told you Muggles had good music. That was a rock band called Queen. I believe that song is quite popular at sporting events."

Ron's eyes lit up. "Imagine a whole Quidditch stadium doing that!"

"That would certainly be a sight. What next?"

As the two continued unboxing and organizing the rather large collection of music, Hermione took the opportunity to play a variety of different songs, just to introduce Ron to some of the genres she enjoyed.

"Dad always had music playing, and I must admit, I did miss it at Hogwarts. The few times I was here, he always had something new to listen to."

Ron was digging through a box, looking at the various CD covers when he let out a gasp.

"What is this?"

She spotted the familiar case in his hands, her face blanching in horror. "No, no, no!"

She launched herself at him, but Ron was quicker, holding the case higher than she could reach. She tried to jump up, but was unable to knock it out of his hands.

"Give that back!" She pouted over his laughter.

"I will, once I've examined it."

Hermione crossed her arms, and shot him a look that would make most people quaver.

Ron read the cover, which had been decorated with a number of hand-written hearts. "Take That?"

"They happen to be a very popular group."

Ron wrinkled his nose as he looked at the five blokes on the cover, all dressed in white. "So which poncy git did you fancy back then?"

She smirked at him, her chin jutting out. "The one I still fancy is Gary Barlow."

"Pfft! Come off it."

"Alright, fine. I did find someone better to fancy soon after that."

"Wait, who?"

She shook her head, before swatting him with the rag in her hand. "You!"

"Bloody right."

She thought she heard him mutter the word "wankers" under his breath as he tossed the case back into the box and continued his explorations.

They took their time, putting everything back by hand to enjoy the afternoon together. Hermione was an encyclopedia of musical knowledge, having learned from her father.

She would sing bits and pieces of songs as they worked, her tone slightly off-key, but it made Ron smile.

As they finished up and vanished all the empty boxes, Hermione turned to him. "What did you like best?"

He thought for a moment, scanning the now full shelves. "Definitely the rock music. I liked that Queen group, and that other one. Lead Zuplin?"

"Led Zeppelin."

"Yeah, them. The pop music was alright, so was the hip hop. I liked the... what did you call it again? Catchy beats? I didn't like the country music much."

She smiled proudly. "Look at you, you're a real expert now!"

"My Dad will be so excited."

"I wanted to play one more song, but I'm not sure if you'll like it."

"Go on then."

Hermione pulled a well-worn record from the shelf and placed it on the turntable. A strong feminine voice filled the room over a slow, romantic melody.

"At last... My love has come along."

She closed her eyes at the familiar sound, picturing the times she'd spent in the room.

"I love this song. It's one of Mum's favourites. We would sit in here on Sunday afternoons, reading, while Dad would organize his collection and play whatever latest albums he purchased."

A loud, obvious clearing of Ron's throat broke her out of her memories. Her eyes opened to find her boyfriend with his hand out, his ears blazing red.

"Didn't get the chance to do this properly last time," he mumbled before he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "May I have a dance with the prettiest girl here?"

She nodded enthusiastically, her hand clasping his before he pulled her close. She sighed as she nestled against his chest, the two of them swaying together.

She was burrowed in his arms, his warmth enveloping her. The strains of melody echoed around as the two of them danced in a sweet embrace.

"I found a thrill to press my cheek to... A thrill that I have never known."

She never thought she would one day dance with Ron Weasley in her father's den. It was like a dream come true.

Hermione sang into his shirt, her words muffled. "Oh, yeah, yeah, and you smile, you smile... Oh, and then the spell was cast."

She looked up and their eyes met again, drawn together like magnets.

"I always loved that line."

"This music does have a kind of magic to it."

"Mmm, it does."

The two of them slowly spun, holding onto each other as if they would fly away, their eyes still locked. After a moment, Hermione laid her head on his chest and spoke up again.

"Would you really have called me pretty at your brother's wedding?"

He rumbled with laughter. "I'd been working up to it that entire month. Just didn't want to lose my chance with him there, so I panicked and didn't say what I had really wanted to say."

"You never had to worry about him."

"I know that now, but back then, I didn't think I was enough. And for the record, you were the prettiest girl there."

"You can be very sweet. And for the record, I didn't want to dance with anyone other than you, Ron. You have always been more than enough."

"You know, that was one of my favourite memories, dancing with you at Bill's wedding. I thought about it a lot this past year."

She squeezed him tightly, trying to convey how much his words meant to her. She too had replayed those moments over and over in her head, trying to remember what it was like to be so close to him. Nothing beat the real thing.

"Do you know how badly I wanted to kiss you that day?"

She stayed firmly pressed to him as they continued their slow dance. "I was really hoping you would."

"I would've done it, if not for the interruption."

She looked up to find him staring down at her, an unmistakable look of love on his face.

"Nothing's stopping you now."

He grinned broadly and leaned forward, his breath mingling with hers for a second before their lips met.

Though the music had faded out, the two held each other on their impromptu dance floor, lost in one another.

At last.

[gamergirl929]

The Aussie And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (USWNT x Reader)

A series of unfortunate events results in you, a talented Australian pro soccer player, being incredibly late to a meet and greet with the USWNT days before camp. Despite each and everything going wrong, there’s one good thing that comes out of the day...

Slight Tobin Heath x Reader

"This is the worst fucking day, ever.” You growl as you race through the streets, in the pouring rain, darting towards the restaurant where you’d be meeting a number of USWNT players, along with the coaches and such.

You’re about to dart across the street, the light still red when someone zips through it, not only nearly clipping you but throwing dirty water all over you and the only clothes you had since the airline lost your luggage.  

“FUCKING HELL.” You yell tugging on your muscle tee that’s now sticking to you more than it had been before, at least it isn’t see through like it was before considering it’s now covered in muddy water.  

You let out a groan before continuing your run, now only a block away from the restaurant.

You hadn’t been able to get a hold of anyone considering someone had decided to swipe your cellphone in the airport, luckily, there was no way they could unlock it, unluckily, you were out a cellphone.  

Finally, you make it to the restaurant, slipping inside you kneel down, panting heavily, your hands on your knees.  

“Excuse me Ms? we have a specific dress code-

The guttural snarl you send the man has him recoiling, his eyes wide.  

“Well, considering the airport lost my clothes, I can’t really dress up too much can I? Also I have others I’m meeting here.” You snarl, the man frowning.  

“I’m sorry for that ma’am but-

You shake your head.  

“Move you damn wanker.”  

You slip passed him, the man basically chasing after you as you move through the ritzy restaurant, shirt covered in mud and soaked through.  

“Ma’am if you don’t leave, I’m going to have to call security.”  

Thankfully, you catch sight of your possible, future teammates, every one of them of course, dressed exquisitely.  

“Ma’am this is a private ven-

“LOOK.” You yell, making the man jump back a few feet, whereas everyone turns to you, all of them immediately recognizing you.  

“I have had a SHITTY day you little tight ass, and damn it, this IS MY VENUE.” You growl, the man shrinking away from you in horror.  

“And if you want me to be dressed up so bad, maybe I’ll go to the dollar store and buy a fucking clip on tie like you did!” You growl, jerking his tie off and throwing it on the floor before you turn around and march away.  

From the group of women comes the sound of a loud snort one of the women mumbling to a number of the other players.

“Well I like her.”  

You run your hands down your face, frowning as you move towards the room full of incredibly talented, powerful and attractive women, all donned in dresses and suits where as you are in a pair of muddy Nikes, dirty black jeans and a completely soaked, muscle tee, that used to be white but is now stained brown thanks to the car that nearly ran you over.  

Vlatko Andonovski approaches you with a smile, glancing down at your disheveled appearance.  

“You look like you’ve been through a lot.” He simply states and you chuckle, nodding.  

“You have, NO idea.”  

Nonetheless, you give the man’s hand a shake.  

“It is nice to finally meet you.”  

"You too sir. I’m so sorry I’m late.” You shake your head. “The airline had issues with the plane so it was delayed, someone stole my phone at the airport, the airport ALSO lost my luggage so I have no clothes.” You motion to your muddy, dirty shirt and jeans.  

“Well that sounds like a real cluster.”  

You turn chuckling when you see most of the USWNT Veterans looking your way.  

“I also nearly got ran over trying to get here.” You run your hands down your face, glaring when you see the man from earlier making his way towards you, two people at his sides.  

“And now I’m probably going to get arrested.”

“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” One of them says and you cover your face with your hands, letting out a sob-laugh as you shake your head.  

“Is this because I made fun of your tie?” You fake cry, shaking your head.

“Can you at least throw me out the back door so I can keep some of my dignity?”  

“Actually, she’s with us.” Megan steps forward with a smile.  

“Which that little dickhead-

Someone elbows you, that someone being Alex Morgan and you clear your throat.  

“Something you didn’t actually ask.” You say, jaw clenched.  

Vlatko eventually talks the man into taking his two coworkers and leaving but not before you send him a deadly glare that some Australian's would compare to that of a Black Mamba.  

“Get stuffed.” You growl, the man shuffling away quickly.  

“What position do you usually play?” Mallory asks curiously and you sigh, leaning forward, your head hitting the table, shaking the plates and utensils.  

“I usually play the role of the Angry Aussie, but sometimes, I’m a defender.” You smile the young girl giggling.  

You freeze, smiling when you see a little boy waving your way and you smile, moving to your feet and making your way towards him, the little boy grinning.  

“Can I get an autograph?” He asks with a toothy grin and you smile, taking the napkin he hands you with a massive smile.  

“Of course you can little man.”  

You scribble your name and the boy smiles waving the napkin at his parents.  

“There you go buddy.” You ruffle his hair, turning to head back towards the group of USWNT.  

“I had to get an autograph from Australia's worst player.” He sneers and you quickly turn around, eyes narrowed.  

“You little wanker.” You mumble, lunging at the kid who quickly runs away, laughing.  

“What the fuck is wrong with every-

You’re cut off when you turn around, a waitress full of trays of water running right into you, considering she isn’t looking where she’s going.  

You stand still, nodding, your lips in a hard, tight line as cold water seeps through your clothes, droplets running down your face.  

You turn back to the USWNT players who are all watching you, eyes wide.  

“I don’t want to be on the team anymore, I’m going home.”  

You turn around to leave, again nearly running into someone, but that someone gives you a kind smile, that someone being Tobin Heath.  

You open and close your mouth a couple of time, wide Y/E/C orbs darting around the woman’s face.  

“H-Hey.” You mumble nervously, swallowing hard.  

“Hey.” She grins and your cheeks flush, Tobin Heath’s smile was much better and brighter in person, and of course, when it was directed at you.  

“You look like you’ve had a good day...” She smirks and you snort, rolling your eyes, catching sight at the little boy who’d asked you for your autograph out of the corner of your eye, the little boy giving you the finger.  

“Little demon.” You snarl, Tobin following your gaze to the little boy who stops giving you the finger and waves at her sweetly.  

“What the fuck?” You mumble, shaking your head. “Aye! Why don’t you like me?” You yell and the little boy sticks his tongue out.  

“You SUCK!”  

The little boy waves as he and his parents walk away, just now seeing the Arsenal colors poking out from the collar of the boy’s shirt.  

“Now I understand why he’s a wanker.” You mumble, eyes doubling in size when you realize Tobin is still standing next to you.  

You open your mouth to speak, immediately snapping it shut when somehow, another drink is splashed on you, courtesy of the same clumsy waitress from moments before, the woman literally running away from you.  

Tobin’s brown orbs widen as she stares at you, spotting the muscle in your jaw jumping.  

“Again, I don’t want to be on the team.” You glance around. “I’m going home.”  

You go to make your way passed Tobin, but before you can the woman slips her jacket off and places it on your shoulders.  

“You look like you could use this.” She smiles and you nod, glancing down at the jacket now hanging off of you.  

You blush, slipping your arms into the sleeves with a toothy grin.  

“Th-Thanks. Only good thing to happen today.” You chuckle, Tobin patting your shoulder before she turns to move towards the others, immediately heading towards Vlatko.  

Your eyes remain glued to her, that is until you spot the veteran’s of the team out of the corner of your eye, smirking as their eyes dart from you, to Tobin and back.  

You quickly turn around, nearly running into the same waitress from earlier.  

“Honey, you need a new job, you’re too clumsy for this one.” You say softly, your hands on her waists to keep her steady.  

The woman suddenly pulls her hand back, slapping you across the face before rushing away.  

You turn back around, towards the team, a number of them trying to bite back their laughter while others look on in disbelief.  

Tobin is giving you a small, apologetic smile and you groan, caressing your stinging cheek.  

“The United States hates me.”  

                                                          ***

You cover your face with your hands, whining.  

“Please, tell me you’re kidding, you’re not kidding, are you?” You groan, Vlatko unfortunately shaking his head.  

“Looks like there was an error with the room assignments, and you’re not on the list... At all.” He sighs and you shake your head.  

An elderly woman approaches you, tapping your shoulder before motioning to your sleeve.

“You know, tattoos are a sin and-

“STUFF IT YOU OLD HAG.” You yell, the elderly woman’s eyes wide as she shuffles away.  

Kelley snorts, loudly, tears running down her cheeks as she cackles.  

You turn back to Vlatko, wincing.  

“Can we please pretend like that didn’t happen?” You beg, the man smirking.  

“For now.”  

You clap your hands together, looking up at the sky.  

“Thank fuck.”  

“Now we just have to figure out where you’re staying.” He sighs and you slowly nod.  

“She can stay with us, right Tobe?” Christen, grins, her best friend’s cheeks flushed pink.  

“If not I’m sure that lovely woman wouldn’t mind if I roomed with her.” You point to the old woman who’s standing nearby.  

“Aye! You care if we room together? We’ll be together in hell soon anyway.” You shrug the elderly woman glaring at you before leaving the lobby.  

“Well there goes my backup plan.” You shake your head, snickering.  

Kelley shakes her head, clapping her hands.  

“You better make it on the roster, because I love you.”  

“Here’s hoping.” You grin, glancing at Vlatko who shakes his head, laughing.  

“We still have to see you play.” He smirks and you nod, holding your hands up.  

“I know, I know.”  

“Ms. Y/L/N?” You hear someone say and you turn around, ready for someone else to take a shot at you in some way.  

“What?” You ask warily, grinning when you see a man in front of you holding...

“My suitcase!” You grin, taking it from his hands.  

“It was just delivered.” He nods and you surprise him by giving him a hug.  

“Thank you.” You give him a squeeze and the man grins.  

“N-No problem.”  

The man scurries off and you grin, hugging your suitcase to your chest before pulling it open, THANKFULLY everything inside is untouched.  

“So?” Christen says and you turn around, humming.  

Christen points at you, then herself, then Tobin.  

“Roommates?” She asks and you nod, glancing at Tobin who’s smiling softly.  

“Sure.”  

                                                          ***

You sigh loudly, stretching as you make your exit from the shower, the filth of your day melting away with a blisteringly hot shower.  

“Feel better?” Tobin asks and you nod.  

“Absolutely better. I have to say my first day in America was certainly memorable.” You shrug, you glance at the opposite bed, realizing that Christen is already fast asleep.  

“Well someone was knackered.” You smirk, Tobin’s brows furrowing.  

“Tired.” You chuckle and Tobin nods.  

You wordlessly move to the hotel room’s couch, being stopped by a hand on your wrist.  

“I have enough room.” She nods to the bed and your cheeks flush.  

“You don’t have to.” You shake your head and Tobin smiles, giving your wrist a squeeze.  

“If you’re sure... I’ll try not to steal the Mache-.” You point to the bed and Tobin’s brows furrow.  

“Shit, sorry the, the sheets.”  

Tobin nods, grinning.  

“Going to take a bit for me to break the Aussie mindset.” You laugh nervously, pulling the covers back, standing beside the bed, Tobin doing the same.  

The woman smiles, slipping into bed, you slowly, bashfully following suit.  

You stay on the edge of the bed, nearly falling off so you can keep some space between you and Tobin.  

“I showered too you know; you don’t have to sleep on the floor.” She teases and you chuckle, finally scooting closer to the woman.  

“Sorry, I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable...” You mumble and Tobin smirks.  

“You know, I saw your bra the first time we met, I don’t think you could make me uncomfortable.” She shrugs and you groan, loudly.  

“Please, don’t remind me.”  

The two of you talk well into the night, so much so you worry about how tired you’ll be the following morning, but that doesn’t matter, because getting to know Tobin Heath had made you terrible day turn into a pretty great one.  

Meanwhile, in the opposite bed, Christen is grinning, her plan to get the two of you to share a bed had worked perfectly.  

But how far that plan would go had yet to be seen.

[chocolatequeennk]

Forever Timeless, 1/23

Summary: Two months after the Dalek Crucible, the Doctor and Rose are getting used to having the biggest family on Earth. As they visit Leadworth in 1996, Victorian England, a mysterious desert planet, and Elizabethan England, those family and friends often help in unexpected ways. But no matter where they go or who they're with, it's always the Doctor in the TARDIS with RoseTyler--just as it should be.

Ten x Rose, Donna x Lee

Betaed by @saecookie, @rudennotgingr, @pellaaearien, and @jabber-who-key

Part 7 of Being to Timelessness

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP

Chapter One: Family Time

Rose leaned back into the drop cloth-covered couch and looked around the room. Her mum and Pete had purchased a house in Cardiff, and she and the Doctor had spent all day painting and cleaning. After two months spent monitoring the lingering effects of the Reality Bomb, the domesticity was jarring.

A sharp pain hit Rose between her shoulder blades, and she grimaced and rolled her shoulders. Every muscle in her body ached. She was in good shape, but she didn’t usually spend hours holding a paint roller over her head.

A moment later, familiar hands settled on her shoulders and started massaging the tension away. Rose sighed and leaned forward so the Doctor could get that spot in the middle of her back.

She enjoyed the massage for a few minutes, then reached for his hand and tugged, asking him silently to sit down with her. He collapsed beside her, looking every bit as tired as she felt. He had a smudge of dirt on his cheek and his hair stuck straight up.

“What have you and Pete been up to?”

“Putting together the furniture for Tony’s room.” The Doctor rubbed a hand over his face, smudging the dirt even more. “I need to create a setting on the sonic for Allen keys. Those belong on a list of forbidden torture devices.”

Jackie’s snort interrupted Rose’s teasing response. “And here I thought you were some kind of superior alien,” she said as she entered the room, carrying two tall glasses of water. “How the mighty have fallen—defeated by an Ikea flat pack.”

Rose listened to the Doctor’s internal debate, weighing the merits of defending himself against the likelihood that Jackie would dump the glass of water over his head. In the end, he only rolled his eyes and said, “Thankfully, the fate of the universe has never rested on my ability to put together furniture named after obscure Scandinavian locales.”

Jackie handed them the water and sat down on a folding chair. “Speaking of strange places, we haven’t seen Jenny and Donna lately. Where are they at now?”

Rose blinked. “You’ve seen them?”

Her mum raised an eyebrow. “You would have seen them too if you hadn’t been off to Neptune doing whatever,” she retorted. “They stopped by a few weeks ago before catching a plane to New York.”

Rose sipped at her water to cover up the urge to sigh. The trip to Paris had whetted Jenny’s interest in seeing more of the Earth. By airplane, she’d insisted, because that was how humans did it.

Donna had been happy to travel the world with her. Rose suspected the trip was a way for her to keep her mind off the fact that they still hadn’t found Lee. Four months had passed since the Library, and the TARDIS still hadn’t picked up even a trace of him.

Rose abruptly realised her mum was staring at her expectantly. It only took her a second to remember what they’d been talking about.

“They’re in Sydney,” she said. “They’ll be back for your big housewarming party, but they really wanted to see Australia before coming home.”

“Hah!” Jackie wagged her finger at Rose. “Now you know what it’s like, having your only child go off travelling by herself.”

Rose pursed her lips. “It’s not that,” she argued. “Well, not only that,” she amended. “It’s fun having other people on the TARDIS with us. I miss it.”  

“What do you miss?” Pete asked. He pulled a second folding chair over and sat down beside Jackie.

“Having friends travel with us.”

“Apparently I’m not enough company,” the Doctor added, earning a poke in the side from Rose and a snort from Jackie.

“More like you’re a bit too much,” Jackie countered. “Can’t imagine being married to an alien.”

“No, you just married a man from a parallel universe,” Pete interjected.

Jackie rolled her eyes, then looked at Rose. Rose groaned at the look in her eye. Interrogation time, she warned the Doctor.

“Speaking of marrying an alien…” Jackie raised an eyebrow and looked at Rose, then at the Doctor, and back again. “You mentioned something about weird alien rituals.”

Rose opened her mouth, but before she could start explaining the bond, her mother started rambling.

“I’ve been thinking, maybe you had to wear funny hats? Or defeat someone in armed combat?” She pointed at the Doctor. “Maybe Rose had to go back in time to ask your family for your hand in marriage.”

“Nothing like that, Mum,” Rose said quickly before Jackie could continue on that train of thought and bring back painful memories of Gallifrey.

“Well, what was it then?” She narrowed her eyes. “You better not have been naked for this wedding.”

“No! We were fully clothed.” The Doctor felt his neck heat up.  

Help!

Rose took his hand and he let out a slow breath. “Leave ‘im be, Mum,” she scolded. “It was mostly just like a wedding. I wore a beautiful dress and we exchanged vows and rings and everything.”

“Well that doesn’t sound too weird.”

“Yeah…” Rose squeezed his hand and he squeezed back, agreeing with her sudden decision. “I was mostly teasing when I said that.”

Jackie crossed her arms over her chest. “So your wedding was completely normal?” she asked, dubious.

Rose bit her lip. “Well, we were alone in the TARDIS,” she said slowly. “And we did a handfasting because that’s part of the Doctor’s tradition.”

“Hmmm…” Jackie raised an eyebrow.

Rose knew she didn’t believe her, but explaining the bond was a far longer conversation than she wanted to have right now. Some day she’d try, but not today.

“It was perfect,” she said, wanting to move away from the alienness of their wedding.

As she thought about that day, something occurred to her. “And our wedding anniversary is only two weeks away,” she added.

The Doctor blinked, and she was glad she wasn’t the only one who’d lost track of time. “We’ll have to go someplace to celebrate.”

“Mind if I plan this trip?”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over her wrist. “I’d love it.”

“Rose?”

The childish voice drew everyone’s attention, and they all looked over at Tony, standing in the doorway.

“Yes, Tony?”

He shuffled forward, a book in his hand. “Will you and the Doctor read to me?”

The Doctor scooted over and patted the cushion in between himself and Rose. “You bet!”

The little boy grinned, then darted across the room and jumped up onto the couch. Rose grabbed the book from him before he could stab himself in the eye with it or something.

“Under the Deep Blue Sea.”

As Rose turned to the first page, she suddenly knew exactly where she wanted to take the Doctor for their anniversary.

oOoOo

The Doctor followed Rose as she pushed her way to the front of the crowd waiting at Heathrow. “The board says their flight landed half an hour ago,” she told him. “They should be almost through customs by now.”

When the first passengers started trickling in a few minutes later, the Doctor gave Rose one end of the sign they’d made. Around them, other people likewise held up their signs—Limousine for Mr. Arbuckle, etc.

The trickle turned into a solid wave of people. “Can you see them, Doctor?” Rose asked as she strained to look through the crowd.

“No… Wait! Yes! Hold the sign up, Rose.”

They waved it madly, and a moment later they were rewarded by familiar laughter. Rose leaned sideways and saw Jenny and Donna walking towards them, wheelie bags in tow.

“TARDIS for Miss Noble and Miss Tyler?” Donna rolled her eyes.

The Doctor turned the sign around and studied it. “Well, we wouldn’t want anyone else to think they could get a free ride.”

“We told you we’d take the train to Cardiff, though,” Jenny said.

Donna nudged her gently with her elbow. “You owe me ten quid, Jenny. I told you they wouldn’t be able to resist surprising us.”

The Doctor’s mouth fell open, and when he looked over at Rose he was thankful to see that at least she was as surprised as he was.

Jenny hitched her backpack up on her shoulders. “I still say giving them the flight information was cheating.”

“I didn’t realise we were so predictable,” the Doctor muttered.

Donna smirked and turned her suitcase so he could take the handle. “We just know you too well.”

Rose shook her head and grabbed Jenny’s suitcase. “Come on, we should get out of the way. The TARDIS is just a short bus ride away.”

Thirty minutes later, the Doctor unlocked the door and held it open while Rose, Donna, and Jenny walked inside. He heard Donna and Jenny sigh in unison, and raised his eyebrows at them.

“Glad you don’t have to take a train after travelling for over twenty-four hours?” he guessed.

“Definitely,” Donna said fervently.

“And glad we can hop into the Vortex and get some sleep without Gran knowing we didn’t go straight to Cardiff,” Jenny added.

The Doctor and Rose exchanged a glance, then Rose gave Donna and Jenny a sly smile. “About that… Are you set on going to Cardiff?”

Donna crossed her arms over her chest. “The housewarming party is next week. I’ve only met your mum a few times, but I have a pretty good idea of what will happen if you miss it.”

The Doctor grimaced and rubbed at his cheek, making everyone laugh.

Rose chuckled and shook her head. “Yeah, you’re right about that. But our anniversary is the day after tomorrow, so we’re going on a short holiday before the big shindig. We can drop you in Cardiff for the week, or—”

“Or,” Donna said before Rose could continue.

Jenny nodded eagerly. “You mean you’ll drop us off on another planet, yeah?”

“If you want,” Rose said.

Jenny and Donna exchanged a look, then broke out in matching grins. “Yes!”

Rose hugged Donna and kissed Jenny on the cheek, then gently pushed them both towards the corridor. “Go lie down. We’ll drop you off in the morning after you’ve slept off some of the jet lag.” She leaned against a strut and watched them go, while the Doctor sent them into the Vortex just like Jenny had asked.

He slid the dematerialisation lever into place, and the time rotor quietly chugged up and down. The transition into the Vortex was so smooth that Rose hardly felt it.

A soft mental tug caught her attention, and she looked over at the Doctor. He’d sat down on the jump seat, and now he patted the seat beside him.

Rose pushed off from the strut and walked around the console, hopping up to sit beside the Doctor like she’d done a thousand times. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him.

“What are you thinking?”

“This life,” she said, talking slowly so she could put the words together as they came to her. “It’s… so much more than I thought it would be.”

She paused, and the Doctor left the silence empty so she could think.

“I thought I’d lost this at Canary Wharf,” she said finally.

“Lost what?”

“Just… human things,” she said, testing the words as she went. “Helping family move. Meeting them at the airport.”

She tilted her head back so she could look at the Doctor. “I love our life, traveling through time and space. And if I could never have anything else, this is what I’d choose. Every time.”

“But we get to have more,” he supplied, understanding what she was trying to get at. “Our life in the TARDIS, and a family on Earth.”

“Yeah. Time and space… and family.”

[i-like-5sos]

Awesome Can you make one where Ashton has a 16 year old sister and her boyfriend has sex with her without consent and has a baby and her boyfriend leaves her and Ashton and the boys help her get ready for the baby,the day the baby is born she has a boy and she names it fletcher after Ashton who she looks up to and adores!!

Hi there ! Thank you so much for the request :) <3

Anything For You

POV: Ashton Irwin 

Word Count: 1991 (short and sweet)

Warnings: Swearing, one reference to the cause of pregnancy (nothing detailed at all).

Summary: Ashton’s younger sister finds herself pregnant and he supports her throughout her pregnancy with the help of Calum, Luke, and Michael.

A/N:  So just so everyone reading knows, I have taken it upon myself to not include anything that has happened before the 5th month of this character’s pregnancy as I believe it could be triggering to readers. I did however, include everything else you’ve requested :) I hope you all enjoy!

5 Months In - Gender Reveal Ultrasound

As I sit in the waiting room, tapping my fingers on the hard plastic armrest of the uncomfortable chair I find myself in, I begin to notice the pattern my eyes have made darting between the clock, the door she left through, and the model uterus that sat on the table across the room. It’s been about 25 minutes since she went to find out the gender of her baby, and I feel like I might actually be going insane in this room. I sigh deeply and pull out my phone for the fifth time to try to distract myself again. I notice a text from Calum asking if we know the gender yet, and I quickly send a reply letting him know that there’s been no updates and that they wouldn’t let me in the room with her.

15 minutes pass and finally I hear the door open and watch as my sister enters the room and smiles wildly at me. Is it too soon to say she’s glowing? Maybe. But I swear to god she is.

“So? What are you having?” I say too loudly, drawing the attention of the very pregnant woman sitting next to the uterus.

“Calm down Ash,” She laughs softly, “I’ll tell you in the car to save these poor people the damage to their ear drums.”

…

I practically run to the car and unlock it quickly before sitting down in the driver’s seat and wait for her to join me. She takes her time walking over, smiling to herself at the obvious torture she’s putting me through at this moment.

What feels like an eternity later, she joins me in the car, sitting in the passenger’s seat. Before she even has the door shut, I’m asking her again about the results of the ultrasound. She chuckles and looks towards me before covering her ears.

“It’s a boy!”

“Ohmygod!” I shout out and crash into her hard, hugging her as best as I could manage around the center console of the car.

As I pull back, I remember the surprise I have waiting for her in the backseat.

“Wait here.” I say as I hold up a finger and quickly dash out of the car to the trunk to grab her the gift.

I return with the small piece of folded-up fabric.

“You said you weren’t going to be crazy about this” She said shaking her head.

“That doesn’t sound like me at all. I was clearly lying.” I chuckle as she shakes her head. “Just humor me.” I pass her the small white fabric piece.

I watch with joy as she unfolds the infant-sized shirt. Her eyes water slightly as she reads the writing on printed on the front – ‘mama’s boy’. She smiles softly as she looks back to me.

“Ashton this is too cute. I can’t wait to see him in it…. How did you know it would be a boy though?”

“As much as I would love to admit that I have the ability to predict the future… I didn’t know. I actually have another in the trunk that says, ‘mama’s girl’ as well.” I say and shrug.

She laughs and looks down at the shirt once more before putting it close to her chest and smiling softly again.

“I love it, thank you so much.”

“Anything for you”

 8 Months In – Baby Shower

“Luke just texted saying they’re here. Get over here Mike!” I say loudly to Michael, who’s been eating the majority of the blue cupcakes at the small snack table we’ve set up.

He quickly joins Calum and I under the archway made of blue balloons near the gate, and we wait for the sound of Luke’s car doors shutting. I chuckle softly as her voice becomes more and more clear as they approach the back gate.

“Luke, can you please just take off my blindfold. I promise I won’t tell Ashton... Call me crazy but I think there’s a rule that says pregnant people can’t walk around blindfolded.”

“No way. The blindfold was my idea. And I don’t see any pregnancy rule books here so I’ll be the one making the rules.” Luke replies as he opens the gate and then guides my younger sister towards the three of us. “Okay we’re here… now don’t move. You can take it off in three… two…” He lets go of her arm and quickly runs over to stand with us. “one!”

She pulls of blindfold off and her face immediately lights up as she takes in the baby shower wonderland that once was Calum’s backyard. The large balloon archway, the table overflowing with gifts from the four of us, the diaper cake, the actual cake covered in baby blue icing surrounded by different blue themed snacks, the blue streamers and balloons covering the entire backyard and, of course, the table containing all kinds of baby shower games the four of us were able to find online.

“Guys! You shouldn’t have! I had my baby shower last week! You know this… You were there!”

“Yeah but… it sucked. There were no balloons and the only snack you had were pretzels… who even likes pretzels?” Michael says shrugging. “And besides, we’ve had this planned from the moment you and Ashton face timed us revealing little Michael Junior’s gender.”

“Michael, how many times does she have to tell you that she’s not naming him Michael Junior? We all know the little guy’s name is going to be Calum Junior.” Calum interjects and gets a swift shove from Michael.

“If she’s naming the baby after anyone it’s going to be named after me” Luke says proudly. “I’m the one that brought her safely to the best baby shower anyone’s ever seen!”

She laughs loudly and shakes her head “You guys are too much.”

…

Once all the gifts have been opened, the guys are trying to see how many balloons they can fit into Calum’s pool as we eat our cake and watch them.

“Thank you again for this amazing baby shower.”

“It was worth it to see you smile. You deserve to be happy.”

She sits there quietly for a moment before responding. “You’ve done so much for me over these last 8 months and I just want you to know how thankful I am to you and to the other guys too… I don’t know what I would do without you four.” She says with a layer of sadness to her voice and looks down at her cake.

“Hey now, you’re okay, you’re safe, you’re loved… You both are. We are here for you no matter what. Never forget that.” I say, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze.

Our attention is pulled away from the moment as we hear a loud crash of someone – Luke – falling into the pool, followed by the booming laughter of Calum and Michael.

 9.5 Months In – The Night of The Birth

Everything is black as my eyes fly open in response to the sound of my little sister yelling out my name from the hallway as she bangs on my bedroom door. I shoot out of the bed as quickly as I can once I realize what was happening. I open the door to see her standing there in her pajamas in a pool of liquid on the floor.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Okay. We can do this.” I mumble and rush past her to grab the hospital bag in the hallway and begin down the stairs to get the car keys.

“Ashton.” She calls out to me from the top of the stairs.

I turn back to see her staring at me with fear and impatience on her face. Oh right. I run back up the stairs to help her walk down them and continue my mission to the front door. I throw my shoes on, grab the keys, and unlock the door. I begin mentally planning our route to the hospital while trying to decide whether to call or to text the boys once we were on our way, and I pause to take a moment to try and figure out what time it was in Australia to determine whether or not we’d wake up mom with our call... What time is it here?

“Ashton!” She says loudly, snapping me out on my haze.

“What? What did we forget? We have the bag and the keys, and you…” I mentally go over the checklist we had mad a few weeks ago for this exact moment.

“Your shirt maybe?” She says, gesturing to my bare chest.

“Fuck. Okay yeah maybe I need that.” I pat the pockets of my pajama pants and realize my phone is still charging in my room. “Might need my phone too… I’ll be right back.”

I dash back up the stairs, taking two at a time. As I get to my room, I grab the first shirt I see and quickly unplug my phone before running back down to join my sister at the front door.

“Okay, fully clothed. Now let’s go.”

9.5 Months In – After the Birth

As I stare at this beautiful child in my little sister’s arms, I can’t help but smile softly at the site before me. I’m an uncle! The sound of the boys entering the room pulls my eyes from the ball of sweetness before me.

“Oh my god… He’s so small!” Luke says, darting to the newborn.

“Look at him! So precious! How are you after… you know… birth and whatnot?” Calum asks, sitting down on the edge of the hospital bed.

“Tired” She replies, stretching her back and then smiling back down at her baby.

As we all take turns holding the newborn, we all fall in love with him instantly. How could we not? Michael promises to teach him how to shred on guitar, Calum somehow was able to find a bucket hat for a newborn and has the little guy wearing it, and Luke introduced himself and pretended to shake the baby’s hand.  

“Okay… we’ve waited long enough. What’s his name?!” Michael asks excitedly as Luke hands the newborn back to his mother.

“I gave it a lot of thought and I finally decided on a name that I can only hope he will live up to… Fletcher.” She smiles softly as she looks over to me.

I’m speechless as I stare at the young woman I’ve known for the entirety of her life and have loved for every second of it. She has chosen to name her child after me. Me. I am truly honored as a tear slips out of the corner of my eye. I wrap my arms around her and Fletcher and hold the two of them, stunned.

As I let go and sit down in the chair beside the bed, I look back at the two of them.

“I don’t have the words to tell you how I feel right now. I am truly honored.” I finally manage to say.

“You have helped me through the worst days of my life… and you’re still here with me on the best day of my life. Ashton, you helped me more than I could ever say. I wanted my son to be proud of his name, and I know that the more he knows you, the prouder he will be. You’re my role model and I would be proud to have a son that grown up to be half the man you are.” She smiles at Fletcher, and then at me.

I get up to hug them both again and kiss my sister on the forehead. “Thank you so much” I whisper softly.

“I guess Fletcher’s a nice name… I still like Michael Junior though.” Michael jokes.

We all laugh together as we sit in the hospital room and continue to fall in love with Fletcher.

[maaaaaatryoshka0325]

Fast Lane - Bang Chan Street Racer AU

Warnings: fluffy, suggestive themes, some angst (duh), Bang Chan (y’all know what I mean)

Word count: 6.8K+

If you guys don’t know what ‘F/N’ means, it means ‘friends name’

Your eyes focused on the girl walking in the middle, her shorts too short, high knee checkered socks on with a pair of checkered vans. She held two flags in her hands, as she was the keeper of their time. The engines revved, and people cheered.

You watched another car pull up, a jet black Bugatti Chiron. You knew who the owner was, everyone knew. He always had the newest, fastest cars, and because of that, he usually always won. Cheers got even louder a he began to pull up to the starting line, as it was going to start soon. He stepped out of the car and people greeted him, all with fake friendly smiles.

There was something about him you had always liked, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Maybe it was the way he never rejected anyone, always being super friendly towards anyone who came his way. It could be because the last person who crash and their car caught in fire, he was the one to pull them out, completely unafraid of the raging flames and the ungodly smell of the oil and gas leaking. Or it could be the way he made eye contact with you every time. When his eyes met yours, they held a type of want in them, the type that made your heart flutter.

It wasn’t the type of want that shone in the other guys eyes when they looked at women, no, not that. His eyes weren’t hungry, but curious. Curious like he wanted to know you, who you truly are, and not just the woman you’d be in bed. Your friend bumped you and giggled and you looked up, seeing his eyes on you.

He gave you one of his devilish side smiles, his dimple poking through his cheek. You blushed and smiled back, a little too shyly for your friends liking.

“C’mon Y/N, you’re beautiful! You need to be more confident!” She said.

She stopped and looked up and shook your shoulder excitedly as he looked at you again, before slipping into his car. The other racers entered their cars, all revving their engines. All bets were on Chan, people were throwing money towards his name like their lives depended on it. His car revved, a loud roar like a lions before the girl threw the flags down, and everyone flew past her. Chan’s car was so fast you couldn’t even see it take off in the dark night.

People cheered and cheered, you could hear everyone from the opposite side of the high way. Their loud cheers let you know that Chan was winning, and you could imagine his shiny black car flying down the highway with ease. The cheers began to pick up through the crowd, slowly making its way to where you were, like a domino effect. You watched Chan’s car gracefully glide through the finish line, which was messily spray painted on the road. Loud cheers and screams of his name echoed around you as he stepped out of his car, his light brown hair fell messily over a bandanna, his leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders in the most attractive way possible. (SEE GIF)

He smiled as everyone crowded around and and praised him, a bunch of girls in the tiniest clothing rubbing up his chest and shoulders. You turned back around, your attention on your friend as she talked to another racer, Minho. You felt dumb thinking he looked at you in interest, why would he? He has all those girls in those skimpy outfits all over him, so why would he waste a second glance on you? Minho seemed very interested in your friend, his dark eyes completely concentrated on her when she talked.

You went to turn towards the other racers, when your face almost met someone’s broad chest. You looked up and saw Chan standing there, a smile on his face.

“Hey.” He greeted you with his charming side smile.

“H-Hey.” You greeted back, feeling flustered at how close he suddenly was.

His cologne hit your sense and made your stomach flutter with butterflies. It was a nice scent, not too strong, the perfect amount to have your heart hammering in your chest and your stomach fluttering with butterflies.

“What’s your name?” He asked, his dark eyes trained on yours.

He was so close to you, his plump lips soft and looked wet, smelling of honey. He was wearing chapstick, and you were almost positive your heart was going to explode.

“Y/N.” You answered, your eyes finding his.

“I’m Chan.” He introduced himself.

“I know.” You said with a small giggle.

“Oh? Well I’ll tell you something you don’t know.” He said, leaning forward to say it lowly. “My birth name is Chris, Chan is just my Korean name. You can call me Chris if you want.”

Your face began to heat up and he smiled at you, his own heart fluttering. He thought it was cute how flustered you got, how shy you were.

“Wanna go for a spin?” He asked, pointing towards his car.

“I would love too, but I’m not at all into the um... Extremely fast stuff.” You said awkwardly.

He let out a small laugh, running his fingers through his hair.

“I wouldn’t go fast like that with precious cargo in my car.” He said.

Your face turned bright red at his words, and you felt your friend nudge you forward. Her eyes were encouraging you, and you saw encouragement towards Chan in Minho’s eyes.

“I’ll meet you back at your place later.” She said, motioning her eyes towards Minho, indicating she was going somewhere with him.

You nodded as Chan led you to his car, unlocking the doors and opening the passenger door for you. The car doors open upwards, and he smiled at you as he closed it for you.

Such a gentleman.

He got in on the drivers side, and you felt him reach across you. Your heart hammered into your chest as he pulled on the seat belt and buckled you in. He paused as his face was directly in front of you, a small smile on his face.

“It gets caught a lot. Gotta keep you safe though.” He said with a sweet smile.

He sat back in his seat and slipped his own seat belt on, and you felt some sort of relief knowing he did so. He pulled away from the races, people still cheering when they watched his car glide down the highway. You were relieved as he kept his promise, not going too fast. Yeah he was decently above the speed limit, but it was the normal “there’s no traffic so I can do what I want” speed.

“So, where are you from?” He asked.

“(Hometown/Country).” You answered.

“Wow, really? I’m from Sydney Australia.” He said.

“That explains the accent.” You giggled.

“Hm? Do you like accents?” He asked.

“I like yours.” You said.

You realized a little too late what you said, but the smile that stretched across his face made your heart flutter. His eyes remained on the road, but you noticed he kept slide glancing at you.

He pulled up to a calm lake and opened your door. You stepped out and he smiled at you as he lead you along the lake, the cool breeze becoming bitter against your skin, as you were wearing a light sweater. He seemed to notice you shiver and took off his leather jacket, putting it over your shoulders. You noticed he was wearing a short sleeved white shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders, and blushed.

“It’s cold and you’re wearing a T-shirt-“ you started, attempting to take off his jacket.

“I’ll be fine, I like cooler weather.” He said, his hands over yours to stop you from taking his jacket off.

You smiled at him and slipped your arms through the sleeves, loving how big it was on you. His eyes sparkled as he watched you walk around with his jacket in, admiring how the bottom brushed your thighs. He walked closely to you, his cologne hitting you from where he was, and from his jacket. The moon reflected on the calm water, casting an ethereal glow. Not only was the reflection ethereal, but so was Chris. The way the moonlight hit the side of his face and lit up his handsome features made your heart throb.

He took you to an opened spot over looking the lake, sitting on the grass. You sat beside him and looked around, admiring all the of the flowers and willow trees beautifully decorating the scene. He looked at you, his eyes taking in all of your features. Your cute nose, your beautiful eyes, your kissable lips, all of it. You turned your head and looked at him, giving him a sweet smile that made his heart pound a mile a minute.

“I always come here to ease my mind when I’m stressed or over thinking. I figured I’d share it with you.” He said with a soft smile.

“You’re so generous.” You giggled, looking at the water that was gently moving along. 

You both remained silent for bit, enjoying each other’s company as you admired how beautiful the spot was. He slowly stood up, flashing you that handsome side grin. (YA’LL KNOW WHICH ONE.)

‘It’s getting late princess, I should bring you back.” He said.

Your heart fluttered at the nickname as you stood up, following him to his car. He opened the door and lifted it for you again, his eyes on you as you sat down in the passenger seat. He made his way to the drivers side, sitting down and looking at you with a sweet smile. 

You told him your address and he drove to your house, his eyes glancing over at you as he played low music. You heard him sing and you smiled, your eyes landing on his plump lips.

“You have a beautiful voice,” You said.

“No voice is more beautiful than yours.” He said with a small smile, grabbing your hand and kissing it as his eyes stayed on the road.

When you got out front of your apartment, you turned towards him and gave him a sweet smile. 

“Thank you for tonight, here, you should take your jacket back.” You said, going to take your jacket off.

“Don’t take it off, hold onto it. Now you have to come see me at the races in a few days to give it back.” He said with a sweet smile.

“I’d be there even without it.” You said with a smile.

He kissed your hand again and waited until you were inside to drive off, making sure you were safe.  “Y/N!” 

You jumped and turned around, your eyes wide as you stared at F/N. She had a big smile on her face as she looked at you, grabbing your hands excitedly.

“What happened? Did he go fast the whole time? Did he kiss you? Is that his jacket? OOOO, DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM?” She bombarded you with questions and you laughed, shaking your head.

“No I didn’t sleep with him dummy, and yes this is his jacket. He kissed my hand and told me to hang on to it and that now I have to be at the races in a few days to give it back.” You said with a big grin. “What about you and Minho?”

“He took me to get food then we walked around for a bit, he’s so sweet! EEK! We have to go to the races!” She said excitedly, jumping up and down.

“Trust me, we’re definitely going.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

You stood with F/N as you both had gone to the races again a few days later. Minho was getting ready as he stood and talked to you both, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and F/N. Minho had a cold demeanor, but he was so sweet when it came down to your friend. He looked at you for a moment and smiled, pointing with his face. You looked over and saw Chan approaching you, his soft eyes trained on you.

“Still wearing my jacket I see.” He said with a sweet smile, another leather jacket on his body.

You nodded and took it off, handing it to him. He took it back, making you feel rather sad, but he slid the one he had on from around his shoulders and put it on you, a small smile on his face.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a giggle,

“That one is warm and smells more like me, and this one? It smells like you, now it’s my lucky charm, and so are you.” He said, kissing your hand and giving you a charming smile.

Hoots and hollers came from the men around you, all cheering Chan on as he was talking to you. You noticed a couple jealous glances from some of the girls around you, but you pushed it away as your eyes met Chan’s.

“Cheer me on, yeah?” He asked, turning away.

“Always.” You said.

He looked back at you and smiled as he hopped back into his car, revving the engine and lining up at the starting line. The girl who always started them walked in the middle, her eyes finding yours as she gave you a smile. She threw the flags down and the cars took off, flying down the highway. She walked over to you and you felt F/N tense, wondering if she was going to give you trouble.

“You’re the girl Chan has been raving about?” She asked. “Y/N?”

“U-Uh yeah.” You responded, feeling a little intimidated by her beauty.

“Ah, good! I’m Yenna, Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Chan will treat you great! He’s a sweetheart, and really picky with his women.” She said with a big smile.

You felt F/N relax and you did too, giving her a big smile.

“It’s nice to meet you Yenna, I’m Y/N and this is F/N.” You said, introducing you and your friend.

“F/N? Like the girl Minho fawns over?” She asked.

“Yup! That’s me!” F/N said proudly.

You and Yenna giggled at her response, before you both turned to loud cheers. Chan was in first place, his car flying towards the finish line.

“GO CHAN!’ You yelled happily, the other two cheering with you.

Chan’s car flew through the finish line and pulled over to the side. He stepped out and people swarmed him. But he didn’t seem to notice, his eyes wandered until they landed on you, a smile stretching across his face as he walked through the crowd and approached you. You walked over to him and met him half way, his arm wrapping around your waist as he gave you his charming half smile.

“I told you that you’re my good luck charm.” He purred.

“You would’ve won anyways.” You giggled.

“Not without you.” He whispered.

He looked at F/N and smiled as she giggled as she pushed at Minho’s chest, and you could tell he was taking her home tonight.

“I’ll bring Y/N home.” Chan said.

Her eyes brightened as she nodded and gave you a thumbs up as she hopped in her car, following Minho out to his house. You had your own car, but you often left it at home, as F/N liked to drive. 

He once again opened your door for you, then hopping into the drivers seat. His eyes were on yours as he reached over and fastened your seat belt, your eyes on his plump lips as he did so. He smiled down at you and then put his own seat belt on before taking off, his eyes fixed on the road. You admired his face as it focused, his eyes completely scanning the road as drove. He gave you a quick glance and smiled as he drove towards your place, surprisingly remembering where it was. He pulled up and smiled at you, and you nodded your head towards your apartment.

“Wanna come in? We can hangout for a bit if you want.” You said with a smile.

He quickly nodded and parked his car, following you into your apartment. Chan looked around as you led him inside, a smile on his face.

“You and F/N are like sisters, huh?” He asked, noticing all of the pictures the two of you had up on your walls.

“Yeah, she practically lives here too, she took over the guest room.” You laughed.

“Sound’s like a best friend, actually, it sounds like my friend Felix. You’ve seen him, right? He’s usually with me, but he’s away right now. He’ll be back for the next race.” He said.

“I’ve seen him a few times. He’s the skinny one with the pudgy cheeks, right?” You asked.

Chan laughed and nodded.

“He’s pretty muscular for being skinny.” He laughed.

“Oh? You stare at your friends body?” You asked.

“Not like that! We just workout together. Him, Changbin, Jisung, and I.” He laughed.

“You workout?” You asked, giggling.

“Yeah, wanna see?” He asked, raising his shirt a bit, some of his muscle showing.

“Chan!” You yelped, turning around and covering your blushing face.

He laughed and shook his head, amusement in his eyes.

“I’m only teasing you.” He giggled, ruffling your hair. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.

‘Yeah yeah yeah.” You muttered, pouting as your cheeks remained red.

“What? I’m serious. You really are cute Y/N.” He said with a smile.

“Yah! Stop!” You yelled, your cheeks turning redder.

He pinched your cheeks and you yelped, making him chuckle.

“Such a cutie!” He laughed.

You pushed his hands off and ran away from him, making him giggle as he grabbed you by your waist. You yelped as you lost your footing from him grabbing you, causing you to fall. He quickly caught you and went down instead, landing sitting up. You straddled his waist, your cheeks bright red as he looked at you, an innocent smile on his face. He giggled as you struggled to find your words, his hand gently cupping your chin and pulling it foreword, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Chan’s kissed were better than you imagined (Yes, you had imagined his plump lips on your own) and tasted of milk and honey. You closed your eyes and leaned into the kiss as both of your lips molded together. He deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping your bottom lip. His hands were around your waist as you gave him entry to your mouth, his tongue quickly finding yours and dancing with your own. You lied about his kisses being good, because they were the best you’ve ever fucking had, they were perfect. His tongue quickly won the dominance fight, but it never stopped it elegant, yet sloppy waltz with your own. You let out a tiny moan as your hips rolled against his own, making him let out a low grunt, his finger digging into your hips. Your fingers clutched his shirt tightly, making it wrinkled. His collar bones were exposed as you bunched his shirt in your fists, tiny whimpers leaving your mouth as your tongue’s continued to press into each other.

He pulled away and panted, trying to catch his breath. His dark eyes were full of desire, but they held so much adoration in them that your heart fluttered.

“As much as I’d love to see every bit of you and make you mine, I think I should take you on a date first.” He rasped, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“I’d love that.” You giggled, letting go of his shirt and rubbing along his chest to get the wrinkles out.

He had a built chest, and you blushed as your hands ran along it to help him get it to look normal again. He grabbed your hands and pressed kisses to both of them, his eyes full of affection.

“How about in two days? I’ll take you on a date.” He asked, hope in his eyes.

“Perfect” You giggled.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

You looked down at your outfit, smiling as you admired how the tight, ripped jeans hugged your ass and hips, looking elegant on your legs. You wore a black shirt with a logo beneath (Use your imagination) with Chan’s leather jacket as a top. Your cute black boots looked good with the outfit, making you smile. You heard F/N come in and squealed as she looked you up and down.

“You look great Y/N!” She squealed.

“Thank you!” You giggled, admiring your dark make up, your (Straightened/curled) hair, and your outfit. You heard the door bell rang and hopped down the stairs, opening the door and seeing Chan. His eyes met yours and he gave you a big smile, walking into your apartment.

“You look ethereal.” He breathed, his eyes bright.

“So do you.” You giggled.

His brown hair was parted, his plump lips moistened with chapstick. He wore another leather jacket, a black under shirt, and tight, ripped jeans that had a chain hanging from them, and black combat boots. You admired him as he smiled at you, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek.

He drove to a park along the river, a bunch of vendors with food trucks and a park area with lights and hammocks along it.

(This is Penn’s landing, it’s close to where I live and I love going there) (For more visual representation, look up ‘Penn’s landing harbor park’)

Chan walked along with you, the night sky lit up by all the lights. Chan led you to a truck, a smile on his lips.

“This is the best one.” He said.

You both ordered and he paid, insisting he was the one taking you on a date. You both sat down and ate, your eyes admiring all of the lights and the hammocks, seeing all of the couples laying inside of them. Chan noticed and chuckled, leading you towards one when the two of you finished eating. He laid in it first, pulling you in with him. Your body was on top of his, his arms around you. You blushed and laid your head on his chest, listening to his heart hammering against his chest and giggling. He blushed a little bit, letting out a small laugh through his nose.

“Don’t make fun of me, I get nervous too.” He said with a soft chuckle.

“Awe, you’re nervous Channie? You’re so cute.” You giggled.

He groaned and pulled you closer, burying his face into your hair. You giggled and closed your eyes, his warmth making you feel at home as your pounding heart began to relax. His fingers began to thread through your hair, his other hand running up and down your back as you melted into him, his touch leaving sparks wherever they were. He pressed soft kisses to your hair, making you smile.

“Thank you for tonight, Chan. I loved every minute of it.” You whispered.

“It’s not the end.” He said softly, looking up at the sky.

You looked up, admiring the thousands of stars over head as a loud boom filled your ears, and bright colors lit up the sky. You watched in awe, your head rested on his chest as the fireworks boomed over head in different colors. His fingers traced circles on your hips as he admired your face, half illuminated by the fireworks. He smiled at you, his eyes full of affection. You looked back at him and smiled, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

After the fireworks he led you to his car, as always, opening your door as you got in. He hopped into the drivers seat and fixed your seat belt for you, this time stealing a quick kiss before he pulled away. You blushed and giggled as he fastened his own seat belt, a sweet smile on his face. He pulled away from the park, heading back to your apartment, his hand resting lightly on your thigh as he did so.

He took the highway back, as it was quicker and he didn’t want to keep you out too late, as you had work the next day. He got off at an exit, hitting a light before heading to another part of the highway. You heard revving and looked over, seeing two guys on motorcycles looking at you. A few more pulled up behind you and on Chan’s side. You saw his jaw tighten and his eyes narrowed. His eyes watched the light before he quickly turned his head and looked at you, his eyes dark.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Chan what-”

“Do you trust me?” He repeated.

You slowly nodded and he tightened your seat belt. When the light turned green, his foot slammed down on the pedal, literally putting the pedal to the metal. His car flew and you closed your eyes, covering your face with your hands. You heard the motorcycles in the distance, seemingly following you for awhile.

“Hang on Y/N.” Chan said as he took a sudden turn, the motorcycles passing the turn due to going too fast. 

Chan kept up with his quick speed until he knew they were gone and he slowed down. He sighed in relief as he looked over at you. Your feet were on the seat, your hands pressed to your knees as your eyes were covered by them. He slowly reached his hand out and rubbed your thigh, a soft exhale coming from him.

“It’s over babygirl, I promise. I’m so sorry.” He said gently.

You slowly uncovered your eyes, fear making them wide. His gentle hand rubbed up and down your thigh, his gentle voice relaxing you as he reassured you it was over and done with.

“It’s okay babygirl, it’s okay.”

When you pulled up to your house Chan got out, opening your door. He followed you up your stairs to your apartment, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“I’m so sorry about that babygirl, I really am. I didn’t know that would happen - fuck - I’m so sorry.” He said softly, kissing the back of your shoulder.

“Chan, what was that?” You asked.

“I raced their friend two years ago and he crashed and died, and they haven’t left me alone ever since.” He said softly.

You turned and looked at him, a lost look on his face as he looked down at you. You cupped his cheeks and kissed his lips, then his forehead.

“It’s not your fault Chan. Not what happened to their friend or what happened tonight.” You said softly.

He smiled at you and kissed your forehead, a hopeful look in his eye.

“So, you’ll stick around with me? You’ll still go on dates with me?” He asked.

“I trust you Chan, more than you’d ever realize.” You said with a smile.

“I’m glad. You should get some sleep, I’ll see you for the races?” He suggested, his eyes bright.

“Of course you will silly, and you should sleep too. Your eye bags are bag.” You said, running your fingers along his left eye.

He kissed your hand and gave you a sweet smile. “Anything for you, my dear.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A lot of people showed up for this specific race, and you realized why. The guys that had followed you were in the races, this time in cars. The one that had pulled up directly next to your side looked at you, his eyes narrowed on you. You tried to ignore him, to keep your back to him, but your worry for Chan grew strong, making you feel sick to your stomach. Chan walked up with someone else, and you recognized Felix immediately.

“Great, they’re here. I thought they would’ve given up by now.” He grumbled, irritation in his eyes.

Chan walked over to you and pulled you in by your waist, your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t pay attention to them love, and stay with all of your friends.” He said softly.

“Please don’t race tonight Chan. They’re after you.” You begged, burying your face into his shoulder.

“I’ll be find, I promise.” He said softly.

You closed your eyes and held him tightly, anxiety pricking at you. He cupped your cheeks and looked into your eyes, a reassuring smile on his face.

“I’ll be careful babygirl.” He said, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll protect him, no worried.” Felix said with a big smile.

You smiled back at him and nodded, giving Felix a hug too.

“Be safe Felix.” You said.

Chan smiled at you as he and Felix walked to their cars, hopping in and putting their seat belts on. You turned when you heard F/N calling for Minho to come back, fear on her face. Minho passed you and you looked at him, worry matching F/N’s. 

“Be safe out there Minho.” You said.

“I will be, I have to do this. I can’t let them all go in like that without me.” He said.

He opened his door and slid into his seat, pulling his seat belt across his body. He revved his engine as Yenna stepped between the cars, anxiety on her face as she did so. You saw Hyunjin looking at her, anger in his eyes at the fact she was still doing it, despite the other guys being obviously dangerous. She mustered up her courage and put a smile on, dropping the flags as everyone shot passed her. She sighed in relief as they all passed, but turned around and watched them, worry across her face. 

“Yenna!” F/N called.

Yenna went to the both of you, worrying plastered on her pretty face.

“I’m so scared.” She whispered, tears brimming her eyes.

“We are too, but I know they’ll protect each other.” F/N said confidently.

“You were really brave for still holding those flags Yenna.” You said, rubbing her shoulder.

She gave you both a thankful smile and pulled you both into a hug, comforting the three of you. The continues cheers going on from the opposite side had you biting your nails in anticipation, anxious for Chan’s car to appear. Your heart leaped through your chest when you saw it, but noticed something wrong. His back bumper looked like it had been hit, and he sped through the finish line quickly, followed by another car and Felix’s car. You recognized the car as the man’s from earlier and the other night, and also noticed his front bumper had some damage. You gasped when you realized he must’ve hit Chan, and was now after him. Felix kept pushing his car closer the other, trying to get him off of Chan.

“Felix!” You gasped as the opposites car hit the side of his own, sending him straight into a pole. 

His car flipped into a ditch and you took off, your feet pounding against the ground.

“Y/N!” F/N and Yenna both called for you.

You saw Chan's car skid next to the spot where the ditch was. He hopped out of the car, his divers side door wide open and his car siting in the middle of the road as he went straight down into the ditch. You ran to the top of the ditch and saw Chan ripping the door open, his eyes on Felix, whose eyes were closed as he was dangling from the seat belt.

“Felix!” Chan called for his friend, jumping into the car on it’s side and unbuckling him.

Chan started to lift him out as Minho and Hyunjin ran past you, quickly grabbing Felix as Chan had to haul himself out. They quickly moved him away from the car, as it was smoking. Chan dropped down beside him and cradled his head, his breathing heavy as he held Felix’s face. You noticed Felix’s eyes opened and he gave Chan a pained smiled.

“You idiot! Why would you do that?” Chan asked, his voice shaking.

“I finally know what’s it’s like to have a brother, and we brother’s protect each other.” Felix rasped out.

Chan held him tightly, soaking his hoodie in blood as he cradled Felix.

“All of you go.” Chan said lowly.

“Hyung-” Hyunjin started.

“Go! An ambulance is on the way, I don’t want any of you getting in trouble.” Chris yelled.

Hyunjin was about to protest when Yenna put her hands on his chest, meaning for him to listen to Chan. Hyunjin let out a small sob as he looked at Felix one more time and allowed Yenna to lead him away. F/N gently rubbed Minho’s shoulder as he let a few tears slip down his face before gently pulling him away.

“You should go too.” He said to you.

You knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you nodded. You bent down and kissed his cheek, your hand holding Felix’s gently. Felix gave you a pained smile before he let out a small whimper, blood trickling from his mouth. You slipped your hand onto Chan’s cheek as you looked at him.

“I’ll be waiting for you.” You whispered, before allowing Minho and F/N to bring you to the car.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It’s been two days since Felix’s accident, and you haven’t heard from Chan. You had tried texting and calling him, but he never picked up, and the others were having the same luck. You wracked your brain, trying to find out a way to see him, as you never been to his place. A thought popped into your head and you grabbed your car keys, heading out the door.

You parked your car across from the lake, quickly getting out and walking to the spot that Chan had showed you. You sighed in relief when you saw him sitting there. His knees were up and his arms were resting on them, his face buried into his arms. You slowly walked over and bent down in front of him, rubbing his arms. He quickly lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. Your heart dropped when you saw the dark circles around his eyes, the whites of his eyes bloodshot.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“I’m here.” You whispered, getting on your knees between his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck.

You felt his arms around your waist as he buried his face into your chest. You stroked his hair and kissed his head, holding him tightly.

“Everyone’s been so worried Chan, I’ve been worried.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry I just... Couldn’t face anyone.” He whispered into your chest.

“Chan, this isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.” You said.

You felt him flinch at your words, then his arms tightened around you as you felt something wet on your neck. Your heart broke when you realized he was crying, crying because he had been blaming himself. You cradled him in your arms tightly, tears filling your own eyes.

“Chan it isn’t your fault, I promise.” You said softly.

“I’m sorry.” He cried.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I promise, it’s okay. He’s still alive, and he’s going to fully recover.” You whispered.

It was true, after surgery, Felix was said to make a full recovery. He had been awake after his surgery, and you, F/N, Yenna, Minho, and Hyunjin had been there to see him, along with Changbin, Jisung, Woojin, Seungmin, and Jeongin.

“I know it’s just... He got hurt because of me.” He whispered.

“It wasn’t because of you, Chan. It was because of that man. And I know you would’ve done the same for him, so please stop blaming yourself. You pulled him out of a smoking car, and not many people would do that. And in fact, no one else rushed to help him. You saved him, Chan.” You pointed out, cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears.

It was the first time you’ve seen him look so defeated, deep bags, messy hair, and a sad face. He closed his eyes and laid his head back on your chest, soft sobs leaving his lips. You held him and whispered comforting words into his ear as he clutched you tightly, before pulling away and wiping his eyes.

“They’re participating in another race tomorrow, and said if I win they’ll leave everyone alone.” He said.

He watched your face drop, your eyes scanning his. How could he risk himself again?

You felt him pull you into his lap, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“I’ll be careful babe, please, just have faith in me. That’s all I need.” He said softly.

You closed your eyes and nodded, hugging him tightly. He held you to him before pulling away and cupping your cheeks, kissing your lips softly. You leaned into his kiss, the kiss sending tingles down to your toes.

“As long as I have you, my sweet luck charm, I can do anything”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

You, Yenna, and F/N once again found yourselves biting your fingers, anxiety eating the three of you as the boys lined their cars up. Chan got out and walked over to you as you took off his leather jacket and swapped it with the other. He had a soft smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug, his face burying into your hair.

“Be safe.” You whispered.

“I will, I promise.” He said softly, pecking your lips.

His warm eyes held your gaze as he stroked your cheek before walking towards his car. You watched Minho kiss F/N’s forehead and Hyunjin placed a loving kiss to Yenna’s lips before they walked away to enter their cars. Yenna looked scared to hold the flags, so you grabbed them, looking Yenna in her eyes.

I have to give Chan confidence and courage.

You stepped between the front of the cars, your eyes on Chan’s. He stared at you, undeniably mad, but also understanding. The others looked at you with admiration as you raised the flags, then dropped them.

You closed your eyes as the cars flew by you, making your hair whip in the breeze. Please be safe, all of you.

You opened your eyes and walked back towards Yenna and F/N, and they both praised you on your bravery. But you had to be brave for Chan, you just had too. The three of you waited anxiously, pressed close to each other as you heard screams and cheers from the other side. You bounced your leg fluidly as you bit your finger, just wanting to see Chan’s car. Just wanting to see ANY of their cars. Your heart leaped into your throat when you saw Chan’s car in the front, the opposites right behind, but surrounded by Hyunjin’s car and Minho’s car. They had locked him in.

Chan’s car flew through the finish line first, loud screams filling the area. Chan pulled over and got out, followed by Minho and Hyunjin. You ran to Chan, your heart beating through your chest as you leaped into his strong arms. He caught you and held you tightly, smiling up at you. You grabbed his face and kissed his lips, relief filling you as you felt his touch. You leaned your forehead on his, your noses touching.

“I told you, all I needed was you to have faith in me.” He whispered.

You smiled and kissed his lips again, warmth spreading through you to your toes, a feeling you were growing used too. The other man’s car pulled close to the crowd and he got out, face pissed.

“You all cheated! You can’t trap me in!” He yelled.

“It’s also cheating to play bumper cars while racing. Now get out.” Minho said sharply, stepping in front of Chan, Hyunjin stepping in on the other side.

All of Chan’s fans agreed, making the mans face turn red.

“Fine. A deals a deal.” He growled before taking off.

You heard your phone go off and saw a facetime from Jisung, as you had exchanged numbers. You answered and saw Jisung’s face, Changbin behind him, and a clear shot Felix sitting in his hospital bed.

“How did it go?” Jisung asked, worry in his voice.

“We won.” Chan said with a smile.

You saw Felix smile as Jisung moved the camera to him, his eyes sparkling.

“I knew you’d win hyung.” He said.

“When I have you guys to protect, of course I will.” He said softly, his eyes landing on you. “I’m glad you’re getting better little brother. You can rest easy now.” He said.

“I can rest easy knowing I can always find you.” Felix said warmly before hanging up.

Chan smiled, tears in his eyes as he lifted you back up, kissing your lips.

“Thank You, Y/N, for giving me strength and courage.” He said softly.

“I’ll do it anytime, any day, in a heartbeat.” You said softly.

He smiled at you and held you close, his heart beating against your ear.

“You’ll always be my lucky charm, my love.”

[straykidsupdate]

STRAY KIDS INSPIRE THEIR GENERATION TO PICK UP THE MIC

K-POP’S YOUNG DISRUPTORS NAVIGATE ADULTHOOD ALONGSIDE THEIR FANS

Stray Kids are fighting with their fans to determine who adores the other most. The fans started it, erupting into an impromptu chant inside Microsoft Theater in downtown Los Angeles: "We love you! We love you!," they shout, repeatedly. The sound is deafening, catching the boy band off guard. The eight members retaliate with their own impassioned chorus. "We love Stay," they respond, referencing their legions of international devotees. Both sides scream until, ultimately, Stray Kids admit defeat; they stand awkwardly onstage, apparently unsure how to receive the unrivaled adulation. Bang Chan, the Korean group's steadfast leader, looks around the venue in awe, while sensible vocalist Seungmin makes a heart with his hands and points to the crowd, resolved to have the last word.

This is not the first time Stray Kids has lost the battle of who-loves-who. It’s happened in cities across the United States, from New York to Dallas, amidst their District 9: Unlock world tour. It's canon, chiseled into the group's short but colorful history, alongside such viral moments as "Seungmin in the building" and "I'm not gonna leave you behind." Displays of affection between idols and fans are nothing new but, with Stray Kids, they’re never forced.

"It doesn't matter how old you are," Bang Chan tells the crowd mid-show, intensity building with every word. "It doesn't matter if you're a boy or a girl, or whoever you choose to be. It doesn't matter where you're from — everyone is welcome in our special district."

Two weeks prior to this performance, Stray Kids — Bang Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and I.N — are gazing from a conference room in a Times Square skyscraper. The sky is gray, but that doesn't deter Hyunjin from posing for a series of selfies against the floor-to-ceiling window. As the lithe dancer works his angles, his bandmates are scattered throughout the room. Han props his phone against the room’s A/V controls to watch an anime; Bang Chan hunches over his own phone, thumbing the screen intently; Lee Know rests his eyes; and Australia-born Felix gossips about last night's Grammy Awards. Like any teen, he's obsessed with Billie Eilish, and her historic Grammys sweep is hard for him to fathom. "Can you believe it?" he says, eyes wide and sparkling. "She's only 18. It's amazing."

But at 19, the deep-voiced rapper, whose delicate features betray his cherry-red hair, has similarly found success at a young age. Within a year of their 2018 debut, Stray Kids received 11 rookie awards and released five EPs. In fact, while Eilish and her brother Finneas were crafting homemade beats in a Highland Park bedroom, JYP Entertainment's tenacious boy wonders were honing their own unique sound in a small studio in Seoul, South Korea. Members Bang Chan, Changbin, and Han comprise the group's primary production trio, 3RACHA, and they've been making music together since their trainee days in 2017. Introspective early tracks like "Start Line" and "Runner's High" laid the foundation for Stray Kids' sonic identity: With the disruptive power of punk, they deliver astute, poignant lyrics about the bristly experience of growing up and its side effects.

"The things we worry about and the things Stay worry about — we share a lot of the same struggles," Han tells MTV News. "Even though our ambitions are different, we work hard just the same. It becomes our inspiration musically." As the creative force behind two of the group's more vulnerable cuts, "19" and "Sunshine," the 19-year-old rapper reveals his innermost thoughts and anxieties to the fans. But that honesty can be frightening.

"It's nerve-racking for us," Bang Chan says. "Sometimes we think, 'If we talk about this, will people understand? Will they relate?' We're always thinking about how we can reach people through our lyrics because we want our music to help."

That empathy has been woven throughout their music from the beginning. Stray Kids’ first singles, the pre-debut track "Hellevator" and the darkly riotous "District 9," are full of angst and aggression, soundtracks for those who balk at societal pressures and follow their own rules. "My Pace" is an empowering anthem teeming with energy and affirmations. ("Don't compare yourself with others," Bang Chan sings on the hook. "It's OK to run slower.") Songs like "Voices" and "Side Effects" offer an intimate glimpse into the tumultuous mind of a young person still figuring out their place in the world, while "Miroh" and "Victory Song" are bursting with big sounds and youthful bravado.

"Young people today may feel a bit trapped, like you're constantly being told what to do and you feel like you can't speak for yourself," Bang Chan says. "So we want people our age to feel comfortable speaking out and talking about what they think."

By encouraging their fans to examine their own growing pains, to feel everything, they ensure that their message is never didactic. "All strayed steps come together to make a new road," they say at their concert. And with their latest release, "Levanter," off their sixth EP Clé: Levanter, Stray Kids come to the understanding that the journey is more meaningful than the destination, and the path ahead is ultimately theirs to define. So they double knot their shoelaces and dash full-speed ahead. "We might not know what the actual goal is, but as long as we're running hard and we're running as a group, whatever comes is going to be good anyway," Bang Chan says. "We just wish that a lot of people out there could listen to our music and get a lot of energy and hope from it."

Like 25-year-old Selina, who connects to their lyrics because she's "still on that journey of figuring out what I want to do and who I want to be," she says, clutching her Stray Kids light stick (a compass, now featuring Bang Chan's name written on the handle) outside of Microsoft Theater. Her friend Joseline, 18, likes that the members "have other priorities and interests outside of being a K-pop idol" that they reveal through daily Instagram posts, livestreams on the V Live app, TikToks, and weekly YouTube videos and vlogs. "He's not just Han from Stray Kids, he's Han Jisung — rapper, producer, and person," she adds.

For Kambree, 17, the group has a "positive vibe" that makes her feel happy and accepted. "They make us feel like family, no matter who you are or what you look like," she adds. Her best friend Lexxie, 17, says Stray Kids "make me feel like I'm not alone with my issues." And So Yun, 30, finds their mix of "hard-hitting EDM" and "super angsty" lyrics reminiscent of the emo bands she listened to in high school. "It's the same rebellious spirit that I felt as a teen when you want to be your own person and figure out your own voice."

Their music has given Louis, 30, a newfound perspective. "I like the ['Levanter'] lyric, 'I want to be myself, I don't care' — that line resonates with me because we live in a society where people try to mold you, but at the same time, I just want to myself and at this point, I really don't care!"

Best friends Ella and Jazlynn, both 19, met online through their mutual love of Stray Kids, and they've customized their light sticks with glitters and holographic stickers of their favorite members' names. "Half of the group is technically my age, so I can look at them and see how successful they are, and it gives me inspiration to work harder," Jazlynn says, an I.N banner at her side. And while they do feel comforted by the authenticity in the group's songs, as Ella explains, it's who they are off-stage that many fans connect with most. "When you see Felix do the Renegade, it's like, 'I do that too!'"

Their ability to ignite the stage with powerful performances while staying true to themselves behind the scenes — as both K-pop's reigning meme kings and young men navigating adulthood — is what makes Stray Kids so relatable to a generation that experiences much of their lives online. "This generation is comfortable being alone," Changbin says. "We have our phones. We don't always need to be talking to each other to be together. Sometimes a text is fine."

And they're pretty normal, too. Bang Chan and Changbin watch videos from Tomorrowland and Ultra Music Festival to help clear their minds in the studio; the tracks "Road Not Taken" and "Stop" are the direct results of such self-care. Han's idea of a perfect day would be to "not come out of my room for 24 hours." If he could spend all day watching YouTube videos, he would. In fact, he says "Sunshine" was inspired by a scene in the Korean drama Boys Over Flowers, where the main characters travel to an idyllic private island. Though Han’s larger-than-life presence dominates the stage, he identifies as an introvert and admits he hopes to "overcome" his shyness. "On my ideal perfect day, I'd try new experiences and meet new people comfortably," he says. "You can do it!" Bang Chan adds, encouragingly.

Youngest member I.N makes time to go shopping, though he prefers to "chill" on his days off. And when Felix isn't playing video games or destroying kitchens with Seungmin, he frequents Seoul's finest dog cafes. "We have so many dog lovers in our group," he says, smiling. "I've been looking at a lot of dogs, and I feel like they help you feel better. I really want a dog with the team." Jisung points at Seungmin, whose nickname is "puppy," and Bang Chan adds, "We already have one." Seungmin scrunches his nose and says, "No way!" (But Han insists he's a "really bad boy.")

Meanwhile, Hyunjin, who’s known by fans for his theatrics and commanding stage presence is extremely open with his emotions. He frequents V Live, where he offers personal advice to viewers of his video series Hyunjin’s Counseling Center. But the 19-year-old admits that opening up to Stay has helped him, too. "I don't always have a lot of confidence," he says. “When I want to be comforted or when I’m feeling kind of sad, Stay are really good at consoling me. I want to be able to repay that comfort in full."

"The connection between Stay and Stray Kids would be family," Felix adds. Han jokes that they're the "annoying and mischievous" little brothers. But it's that sense of connection, among the group as well as with their fans, that has cemented Stray Kids as the vital voices of their generation.

"The struggles we're going through — anxiety, stress, school, love — they tell us to take our time and see where our path leads," Selina says. "It's OK to stray from it. Just stay true to yourself. I always associate that with them. The idea of 'You Make Stray Kids Stay' is to find out what it is that grounds you and just keep going."

And Stray Kids don't plan to slow down any time soon. Having wrapped their Clé series at the end of last year with Levanter, 2020 offers an exciting fresh page for new musical experimentations, starting with the three original unit songs the group produced for the tour. "Wow" is a sexy R&B track from dancers Lee Know, Hyunjin, and Felix. It's also their first explicit love song. "We wanted to try a sexy song because it's a special stage," Hyunjin says, explaining that the dancers worked on their own lyrics in addition to helping with the slinky choreography. "We wanted to include moves that we haven't tried before," Lee Know adds, noting that they wanted something sexy and powerful. "So it was a new experience."

"My Universe," featuring vocalists Seungmin and I.N with an assist from Changbin, is a bright pop ballad. "I always wanted to try something like that," I.N says, eyes smiling. Seungmin tells Changbin from across the table, "Thanks for helping." And 3RACHA's "We Go" oozes confidence over a scorching trap beat. "We made 'We Go' last time we were here [in the United States]," Bang Chan says. "We made around three to four songs in one day… The performance is really fun as well. And those two [he points to Han and Changbin] got to have the chance to use Autotune live."

They also released their first English singles in January, a process that rapper Changbin, known for his furious flow, calls "difficult." ("It was fun," Hyunjin argues beside him.) "I was listening to Changbin's rap [in 'Double Knot'] like, 'Why is this so fast? What am I going to write?'" Bang Chan says. "I tried to write it as easy as possible so that he could speak it well. I'm really glad that they could record it really well for me."

In March, they'll debut in Japan. And there's another mixtape project in the works, kicked off by the digital release of "Gone Days," a relaxed, Autotune-laced anthem for the "OK Boomer" generation. A play on the Korean word kkondae, it describes someone who pushes outdated ideas and expectations onto another based only on their age and status — and signals the arrival of a bold new direction. "I think [young people] now just need to be more comfortable with themselves," Bang Chan says of his inspiration for the track. "By being yourself, you never know what's going to happen."

"I always believe that one person can change the world," he adds. "So if you have a thought or an idea, just let it out. Because who knows? You can make the world a much better place."

[januarywren]

Hi if you don’t mind can I request a Snamione fic where he witness hermione’s mental breakdown upon knowing the death of her parents? Hehehe we are going angst today!

EEEEP, I’m really sorry - I’ve been feeling awful the past week, and I mixed up your prompt!! I thought that you wanted a sevmione scene about Hermione Obliviating her parents, not their death. 

The fic that I wrote is an Epilogue AU and takes place ten years after Voldemort’s death, but I’m sorry for the mix-up!! If I have time, I’ll write something that fits your prompt entirely. I’m posting the fic below, as well as linking it here! I appreciate you sending in a request, and I’m sorry again. 

-

“Hermione – “

It had been weeks of silence, with his lover hiding away in their rooms. There was more to the former golden girl of Gryffindor than anyone knew, and Severus watched, and he worried, as her cheeks grew pale and her words became fewer and fewer.

He felt the distance growing between them, even at night when he wrapped his arms around her, and she nestled close against his chest. Sleep was beyond them, yet they enjoyed the intimacy of it still – at least they had until she'd turned from him.

(Why? What had he done?)

“Trust me,” Severus ached to say. “Please, Hermione, let me in again.”

But he didn’t.

Couldn’t.

For underneath it all, Severus knew that he was a coward still, regardless of his duplicitous role at the Dark Lord’s side. The Ministry had given him a medal – a scrap of worthless tin – as if that could make his hands clean again.

He’d witnessed horrific things, things beyond anyone witch or wizard’s imagination, aside from Voldemort himself, and perhaps, Dumbledore. The later was hailed as the guiding mentor of the wizarding world, but above all others, Severus knew his true nature: Dumbledore willingly accepted what others would have cringed at, as long as it would aid his efforts during the war.

It was right, and it was wrong, and Severus –

He wanted little part of it.

His own Change was because of the Dark Lord after Voldemort explored the nature of vampires. Severus acted as his servant and was changed first – he'd burned in agony for days until his heart stilled, and he burned anew, his throat aching with thirst. He was a creature without morals, or limits, and had slaughtered as other Death Eaters had, and was privy to horrors that only those closest to the Dark Lord were allowed. There were so many innocents that suffered, regardless of their bloodline or their nature -

He never raised a finger to stop them, nor spared the unfortunate a single word, and he knew that he would burn for it –

Something that Hermione knew as well, for he’d wept in her arms, and confessed his sins to her. The world would never know the weight of his heart nor the true workings of his soul, but she alone would always know.

“Don’t.”

Severus flinched as his lover turned away from him, his heart thudding inside his chest. "It's over then?" he asked, forcing himself to swallow nausea that rose in his throat.

He’d always known he wasn’t good enough for Hermione, the same way he wasn’t good enough for Lily. (What had he told Hermione at the start of their relationship? “I’m less of a man than I am a creature, Hermione”? It was an understatement by far.)

And yet, Hermione had stayed by his side, freely and wholly of her own will. She’d accepted him when his nature became clear; his fangs grazing her wrist when he kissed her there, and his dark eyes had bored into hers. Her blood was ambrosia on his tongue, her nature as enthralling as a siren’s call.

And when they had reached the point of no return, she had done more than accept him –

She’d chosen him, as her Sire.

Her Mate.

They knew each other as no one else did, as they brewed countless potions together, in their little nest that was hidden from the world. They lived in muggle London, a place where they could live as they wished, and where no one noticed if a petty criminal or two went missing. (In fact, their formerly crime-ridden neighborhood was grateful for the dramatic reduction in crime, as stolen items were returned, and doors were left unlocked once more.)

He withdrew from her, as his familiar friend, anger, found him once again. “Have you realized what I am?” Severus asked, “A foul creature, a sniveling beast – “

It was easy to slip into his former skin, as the greasy-haired and embittered potions master. He knew what the students thought of him and remembered how the staff had avoided him. He reveled in their distance, as it fueled his bitterness; something he had ceased to feel in his life with Hermione. But he was weak then, and exposed, and wanted to hide away where she wouldn't see how he lived for her.

If she left him –

No, Severus thought grimly. When she left him, he would be the creature the world knew before, the one who snapped and snarled without remorse. He wasn’t meant to have others near, he was his father’s heir.

“Stop it,” Hermione said, closing the space between them.

“Why should I, Ms. Granger – “Severus sneered, stilling as her hand rose to cup his cheek.

"Severus," Hermione said as if his name meant something to her still. "This – this isn't about you, or us. I'm not," she hesitated, searching for the right words to say. "I know that I haven't been myself lately. I…”

“You haven’t,” Severus croaked, his tangled feelings exposed. He felt as anxiety entwined with his simmering anger, and his hand covered hers. “Please Hermione, let me in.”

“I did something a decade ago,” Hermione whispered, “something during the war that I cannot let go of. It…it happened next month, and I – I can’t stop thinking of it.”

Severus’s brow furrowed, as he rested his temple against hers. “You were a child during the war,” he said, his tone as gentle as his words were overused. “Dumbledore used you as a soldier – whatever you did is not yours to blame yourself for.”

“But it is,” Hermione replied, with a sad, little smile. “I wanted to keep my parents safe, and I…I took their lives away from them, Severus. I Obliviated them and sent them away to Australia, where they would be safe.”

He kissed away the tears that slid down her cheeks, as shame pooled through his veins. It was his nature to interpret his mate’s hurt as because of him, with his father’s words ringing in his ears – feelings of worthlessness and self-loathing always seemed just below the surface, as if he were a child still.

He wanted to be better for her.

He had to be.

She hadn’t made the decision for him to change her lightly, no, and it was entirely her decision alone. The cursed knife that Bellatrix had used to carve the horrid word into her skin was slowly killing her, the dark magic imbued within her wound leeching her very life from her. Hermione told him she wasn’t afraid to die, after cure after cure had resulted in little change.

Nor had Hermione proposed it at first, after Severus confessed his love for her. She asked for nothing from him but stayed at his side, faithfully stirring his potions, and spending her nights awake with him, even before he changed her. They kept the world at bay outside their door, and wanted nothing but privacy, above all.

She wrote letters frequently to Harry and his wife, as well as his godson, Draco Malfoy who sought redemption after the war and he apologized for his treatment of her. She wrote letters too, to George Weasley who mourned for the loss of his twin, and she wrote to Ron, who struggled to find his stride as an Auror still. Hermione had a longing for the outside world that Severus lacked, though he never sought to prevent her from having friendships.

Yet it was Severus who held her during the Change, allowing her to weep in his arms, as she writhed, and she burned. It was an experience that bonded them closer to one another, the fury of the Change driving the Dark Magic from her soul. It fled her body, but Severus never left her, nor did he want to.

“I’m sorry,” Severus whispered, before kissing the tip of her nose. “So very sorry, Hermione.”

She had always taken comfort in his voice, and like a purring cat, rubbed her cheek against his. “I can’t help but think they are safe but not whole,” Hermione confessed, “Or maybe it’s too painful to think of them as being happy and whole, without remembering me at all – “

His arms circled around her waist, as he pulled her flush against him. “I understand,” Severus said, having once felt the same about Lily, as she burned with life when she was married to James Potter. Yet his feelings for Lily were nothing like how he felt towards Hermione, the only soul to ever accept him wholly, and unflinchingly.

He never would regret the rainy night that he'd come across her, when she'd sat alone at a train station, with her beaded purse in her arms. She'd broken up with Ron and fled from the wizarding world – straight into his arms after they left the train station to eat at his favorite curry place instead. The dull flavor of human food had seemed spicy and danced across his tongue when he sat across from her, and they had simply never parted afterward.

Nor would they if Severus had his wish, and Hermione truly wanted to stay.

“I miss them,” Hermione murmured, “Every night and every day, even though I never forget that I’m the one to blame. I chose to send them away, without a memory of the child they had, or…or anything of their former lives. Their true lives,” her voice cracked at that, and she moved to bury her head against his shoulder. “I don’t have a right to feel this way.”

“You do,” Severus said, his hands resting on the small of her back.

She was a mess of contradictions; her small frame holding a soul that was far stronger, and bolder than his own. He wanted to curse himself for leaving her to the wolves during the war, though they weren’t lovers, nor friends then. His focus then was consumed with thoughts of Lily and twisted bitterness about protecting her son.

“Merlin, Hermione, you did the only thing that you could. The Dark Lord would have never allowed your parents to live. The things that he did to muggles – the things that I did to them – “ he dragged a ragged breath in.

He wanted her closer still as if he could hold on to her, so she never let go of him.

“You saved them, my love,” Severus said softly, though they were the only ones in their room. There would never be another between them, nor a child born from her womb, as their kind was unchanging.

There was only the low purr of her familiar, Crookshanks, who chose then to wind about their legs and rub his face against Severus' foot. With a little blood magic, he would live out his immortal days with them. "My love, my life - believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He wouldn’t.  

“Promise?” Hermione asked, quieter than he’d ever heard her.

He prayed that she would believe him, as truth dripped from his words. No one would have helped his mate and her parents, not even him. Dumbledore had cared only for Harry, zealously arranging his pawns so his king was protected, and at the forefront of the chessboard. Harry was the one that mattered – Harry was the only one that truly mattered and was needed in the war against Voldemort.

“I swear it,” Severus whispered. "I'll take a Vow if you wish."

He wanted to free her from her pain, her guilt, even as he knew that it couldn't be undone. It was an ache inside of her soul that wouldn't leave her, yet he wanted to try as he never had for any other. Offers rose to his tongue, ones of finding a reversal to the spell, and finding her parents once again.

Severus held his tongue still, knowing that wasn’t what his mate needed, not then. Later, perhaps, when her tears had dried and she nestled close to him, and she knew that he would listen to all that she wanted to share.

She pressed closer against him and grasped the fabric of his robes with her hand. “I wish that I didn’t remember,” Hermione confessed, “over and over again. I see their eyes glaze over and I…I just can’t – I want to forget but I never want to let them go.”

It was all that she could give him then, the wound too raw, and exposed as it was. (Yet she didn't turn her heart away, no – it turned toward him, as she sought the comfort of his hold and the honesty of his soul.)

“I know, sweetheart,” Severus said, knowing more than most how she felt. There were memories that haunted him once, a tangle of faces and a mesh of names that were engraved across his skin. “I know.”

They held each other close, saying nothing then.

[starfirelove]

Happy birthday to the wonderful @sirrriusblack!! You’re one of the most amazing people I know and I’m so, so glad that I decided to message you wayyy back in December.

I love you to death and again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🎉

All I Want For Christmas Is You

(Yes I know it’s May. So shhhhhhhhh. Blame Mariah Carey and her song for shuffling on my playlist and putting me in a Christmas mood) (also tumblr is mean so I have to post this in three parts) Part 2 & Part 3

James (8:59 am): Are you here yet??

Sirius (9:05 am): Yep just landed

James (9:05 am): Cool cool

James (9:10 am): You outside yet?

Sirius (9:13 am): Jesus shit no. I literally said I landed like 5 minutes ago

James (9:14 am): 8 minutes* and so?

Sirius (9:16 am): Soooooo I have to get through security and shit. Do you know how airports work Prongs?

James (9:19 am): Of course I do. You just yell at terminal until you get to your destination quicker

Sirius (9:22 am): Lolll ok sure. I’ll try screaming at it

James (9:22 am) sounds like a plan padfoot

Sirius (9:30 am): Ok I’m out where are you?

Sirius (9:34 am): James?

Sirius (9:35 am): Jaaaammeeeessssss

Sirius (9:37 am): Prongssss where are youuu. It’s cooollldddd

James (9:38 am): sorry sorry I had to find the gate

Sirius (9:39 am): you mean to tell me you badgered me about getting off the plane and you didn’t even know where to pick me up???

James (9:39 am): ….maybe….

Sirius (9:40 am): dumbass

James (9:41 am): stfu and get in the car

Sirius (9:41 am): (:

~~~~~~~~~

Sirius looked up from his phone, grinning as a loud horn sounded from the curb. James was leaning out the window and sending him an equally large grin.

James pressed on the horn again, causing several people to look up in alarm and annoyance.

Sirius made his way to the back of the car, tapping on the back of it for James to pop the trunk. A moment later there was a faint click and the trunk had sprung open. Sirius quickly shoved his bags in and then closed the trunk probably a lot harder than he should’ve.

He winced at the sound it made as it came down.

“Trying to kill my car, are you?” James shouted from the front.

“Not on purpose,” Sirius called back, walking around to the passenger side.

James reached over and unlocked the door, throwing it open and waving his arm as if to say well what are you waiting for?

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping.”

Sirius laughed at the quote before clambering into the car.

“Good to see you, too, James. Where we headed.”

James clicked on the radio, Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now blaring to life on the audio.

James’ resulting grin would’ve been enough to make most people worried.

“Macy’s,” he said, and then he sped off towards the exit.

~~~~~~

Remus would’ve winced at Lily’s crushing hug if he hadn’t been hugging her with the same amount of force.

“You’re back!!” She shrieked.

“Yeah, yeah I am,” Remus said laughing.

It had been months since he’d been back in San Francisco and he was definitely glad to be home. He’d been away for nearly a year for a work trip — as great as it was, there was something really special about coming home, and seeing his friends again was making him almost giddy with excitement.

“When did you get in?” Lily asked, her words slurred a bit from excitement so it sounded more like one large word.

Remus shrugged,”A couple hours ago— hey! Jesus, what was that for?!”

Remus jerked away from redhead, glaring at the spot where she’d punched him in the arm.

“You should’ve told me when you landed! I could’ve come to pick you up!!”

Remus rubbed his shoulder. “I didn’t want to bother you with it, I can get back to my own house perfectly fine.”

“I know you can,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “But James went to pick up Sirius hours ago and he could’ve got you too!”

“Oh,” Remus said. “Right.”

Lily frowned at his less than enthusiastic response. “All good there Remus?”

Remus blinked at her for a second, brain having trouble keeping up with what was going on.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, yeah I’m good.”

“Riiiight”

“I swear,” Remus said, raising his palms in the air. “I’m absolutely, one hundred percent, fine.”

Lily’s eyebrows looked like they were trying to leave her face but she nodded. “Yeah, yeah alright. Let’s go.”

“Go?” Remus asked. “Go where?”

Lily’s eyebrows dropped as she rolled her eyes. Sometimes she wondered how such smart people could be the biggest idiots.

“To the Potters. Christmas party, remember?”

“How could I forget.”

The Potter’s were absolutely legendary for their parties. Large events thrown in their Noe Valley house filled to the brim with friends, family, and other people who just happened to be invited. While it was true that Euphemia and Fleamont Potter we’re getting up there in age, they still knew how to throw a party. It also might’ve helped that their son and his friends were renowned for their own parties at boarding school and penchant for getting into trouble.

“Mm of course not,” Lily said. “But did you remember you were supposed to help me set up?”

“Err…” Remus trialed off. Well, no, he hadn’t remembered.

“Uh huh just what I thought. C’mon Remus, wouldn’t want to be responsible for a less than awesome Potter Christmas party, would we?”

~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t that Remus hadn’t known that James was picking up Sirius. No, he’d known all right— it was on the group chat after all. He’d known and he had deliberately planned his flight schedule around it.

Things hadn’t exactly been normal last time Remus had seen Sirius. And he’d decided that he’d much rather take an Uber home than hitch a ride with Padfoot and James. “I-Can-Sense-A-Conflict-Between-My-Friends-In-Under-A-Minute” Potter.

The thing with Sirius was that he’d gotten so good at covering up emotions it was hard to tell which ones were real. Such was the case last year.

Remus had been in love with his best friend for longer than he could remember. It had started small, noticing things, like his laugh. Then it slowly got worse and Remus started noticing finer details. Like the way his hair shimmered when it caught the light, or how the corners of his eyes would crease when he laughed. Or how—

“Remus. Earth to Remus Lupin, are you still with me?”

Remus looked up from the car window. He’d been doodling small stars on the parts that had turned foggy from the contrast of the warm car on the cold exterior.

“Yes?”

“We’re here.”

Remus started around their surroundings. “Oh”

“Mhm,” Lily said, pulling her key out of ignition. “What were you even doing?”

Remus looked back to the window, blushing slightly at the doodles. “Erm...stars?”

A grin split across Lily’s face. “Stars, huh?”

“What?” Remus complained, he absolutely did not need her to tease him about this. Or tell the other Marauders, it’s definitely be best if she didn’t tell the other’s.

Lily was practically glowing now. Brimming with some hidden information.

“Oh, nothing. C’mon let’s head in.” Without another word she pushed open the car door, sending a gust of cold air into the car and making Remus shiver.

Remus sat in his seat for an extra thirty seconds or so, trying to come up with what on earth Lily was talking about. Finally, muttering something about girls being confusing, Remus stepped out of the car and trudged towards the Potter house.

~~~~~~~~~

San Francisco was known for many things, but being warm was not one of them. Especially not during the month of December.

Sirius shivered slightly, cursing himself for not wearing a warmer coat. He knew how cold this god forsaken city got. So why on earth had he not packed for the weather. Oh, right, because he was in Australia where the seasons were flipped upside down. Well at least it was warm there.

It might’ve been better if it was the type of cold for snow, but alas it wasn’t. San Francisco was the type of cold with frigid winds that chilled you to the bone and a freezing atmosphere that made your teeth chatter.

Sirius wasn’t generally a warm person. In fact he’d once made Lily drop a cup of coffee when he’d startled her by touching her with a severely cold hand. So he’d made his peace with being a cold blooded lizard. But even he had his limits on cold.

Now James on the other hand looked ecstatic. Bouncing up Powell street towards Macy’s with poorly contained excitement.

“How the fuck are you so happy right now?” Sirius grumbled at his friend.

“Because it’s Christmas and you’re back.”

“I’m all for the Christmas spirit but it’s freezing outside.”

“Don’t you always say you’re cold-blooded?”

“Oh, ha ha. Cold-blooded creatures want to be warm you dumbass.”

James chuckled at his irritation. “We’ll be inside soon enough.”

Soon enough couldn’t have come faster. Sirius could’ve hugged whatever person was in charge of the heater in Macy’s. Stepping through the doors to the department store had felt like being wrapped in a warm blanket.

“Finally,” Sirius groaned when they’d gotten in. “A normal temperature.”

James had only laughed before tugging him further into the store in search of gifts.

~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, out with it Lupin. What’s going on between you and Black?”

Remus had almost taken Lily to her word. He’d been drinking tea when Lily asked her question, catching him off guard and causing him to choke.

“Pardon,” he spluttered.

Lily’s hands were on her hips, red hair falling around her face in waves. “Don’t you ‘Pardon’ me, Remus Lupin. I’m not an idiot. There’s been something off about you and Sirius since last fall.”

Remus had recovered slightly and took another swallow of his drink before saying: “Lily, I don’t know what you—“

“Oh my god,” Lily said suddenly, cutting him off. “You two finally worked it out!”

“Worked what out?”

Lily pushed herself up onto the counter, leaning in close to Remus.

“You two finally figured out that you’re head over heels for each other.”

Remus nearly fell off his seat in shock. Shit, he’d been discovered.

Lily snorted, not missing the flash of panic cross his face.

“Relax, I’ve known for a while. Hell, we all have.”

“You all know I like Sirius?” Remus asked, recovering his wits slightly.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Yes, duh. You two weren’t exactly discreet about it.”

“Two?”

“Yes, Remus. You and Sirius? Y’know Sirius Black? Rich, playboy supreme who you’ve had a crush on since you were like 14?”

“I know who he is,” Remus snapped, and then winced at the cool it buddy look that Lily was giving him. “What I meant was, you think Sirius likes me of all people.”

“Mhm”

“How? Why? Where?”

Lily sighed. “God Remus, you are so blind.”

[calumcest]

you and i were fireworks that went off too soon - chapter one

[ao3]

The tattoos appear one Wednesday night. 

“What’s yours?” Michael demands, sounding beside himself with excitement. Luke frowns.

“What’s my what?”

“Your tattoo.”

-

another soulmate au...but this time its ANGSTY (but dont worry it will end happy because i am me)

The tattoos appear one Wednesday night. 

Almost everyone wakes up for a few minutes at around three-thirty a.m., feeling a strange burning sensation in some square inch of their body. Almost everyone rubs sleepily at the patch of skin - wrist, bicep, shoulder, hip - rolls over, and goes back to sleep. 

Some people, of course, are already awake when it happens, and some people wake up and don’t go back to sleep. Those are the ones who start shooting off confused questions on social media, comparing tattoos, trying to figure out what they mean. A few people start theorising - mine reminds me of my wife, they say, or, mine reminds me of my first love, and by the time the rest of Australia wakes up, the theories have ballooned from maybe they’re to do with someone you need to reconnect with to this is a clear sign from the government that they’ve placed chips in our minds and know what we’re thinking about. 

Australia is the first major country to get them. As Tuesday rolls into Wednesday across the globe, more and more people’s thighs, forearms and ankles start to burn, until, by the time it gets to LA, people are buzzing with anticipation, almost the entire country awake at three-thirty in the morning, waiting for their tattoos. 

Luke doesn’t notice his immediately. He sleeps like the fucking dead, so he hadn’t even woken up in the middle of the night like most people, and he wakes up late for work so doesn’t have time to check his phone for the fifty billion messages he’s received overnight until he’s made it onto the train, panting as he flops into an empty seat opposite an elderly lady. She gives him a warm smile, which Luke thinks is a little strange, but he returns it slightly tentatively, pulling his phone out to avoid any further eye contact. 

His phone lights up before he even touches it, and Luke frowns as he sees new messages appearing every few minutes. On top of the messages, he’s got seventeen missed calls from Michael, twenty-five from his mum, three from his dad, and even some from Jack and Ben. 

He unlocks his phone and heads for the messages app, barely managing to open the group chat with Michael and Calum before his phone is lighting up with Michael ringing him again. 

“What?” he hisses, as quietly as he can, throwing an apologetic look at the lady opposite him. “I’m on the train.” 

“What’s yours?” Michael demands, sounding beside himself with excitement. Luke frowns. 

“What’s my what?” 

“Your tattoo.” Luke blinks. 

“Are you alright, Mike?” he says. “You know I don’t have any tattoos.” 

“Are you fucking serious?” Michael says, now sounding incredulous over the staticky phone line. “Have you not, like, looked at your phone? Seen the news? Spoken to a single person?” 

“I woke up late,” Luke says, a little defensively, even though he doesn’t really think he needs to defend not looking at his phone for an hour while he showered, dressed, made breakfast, sprinted to the station.

“Jesus Christ,” Michael says, and Luke can just imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Trust you to sleep through something like this.” 

“Through what?”

“Everyone got a tattoo last night,” Michael says. Luke hesitates for a moment, and then rolls his eyes.

“Mike, I’m not that gullible,” he says. “I think even I’d wake up if a tattoo artist broke into my house overnight.” 

“I’m not joking,” Michael says impatiently. 

“Where are they, then?” Luke says, slightly amused. 

“Mine’s on my elbow,” Michael says. “But everyone has them in different places.” 

“Right,” Luke says. “That’s convenient. Is this just a ploy to try and get me to strip naked on public transport and embarrass myself?” 

“Why do you never believe anything I say?” Michael says indignantly. 

“You’ve never given me much reason to,” Luke says. There’s a beat, and then-

“Yeah, that’s fair enough,” Michael says. 

“What’s yours, then?” Luke asks, because he might as well humour Michael. 

“It’s, uh,” Michael says, cagily. There’s a moment’s pause, and when it becomes obvious Luke’s waiting for an answer, he says quietly: “Duke?” 

“Duke?” Luke says, because he cannot have heard that properly. “Like, Calum’s dog Duke?” 

“Yeah,” Michael says, sounding a little nervous. Luke rolls his eyes. Obviously Michael’s just picked the first fucking thing that came to mind.

“Right,” Luke says. “Not really doing yourself any favours on convincing me this isn’t just a massive joke, Mike.” Michael makes a small noise somewhere between outrage and embarrassment. 

“Check the fucking news, then, arsehole,” he says, and then there’s a beep and he’s hung up. Luke removes the phone from his ear, screen back on the group chat where Calum’s still sending messages, and clicks out and onto his news app. 

He’s immediately confronted with approximately thirty-seven articles about tattoos. Blurry pictures of people’s tattoos, clips of news anchors showing their tattoos to the camera, interviews with people who claim they know what the tattoos mean, interviews with medical officials who are telling people to stay calm, the tattoos don’t appear to be dangerous. Luke’s first reaction is to bring down his notification bar and check the date - okay, May the seventh, so this isn’t an April Fool’s. It might be a late April Fool’s, though, he thinks.  

“He’s not lying to you,” someone says suddenly, and Luke’s head jolts up to see the old lady opposite him smiling at him benignly. 

“Uh, sorry,” he says, “what d’you mean?” 

“Your friend,” she says, “Mike? He’s not lying. Everybody got a tattoo last night.” She rolls her sleeve up to expose a frail, wrinkled arm, and right there, in the middle of her forearm, is a tattoo of a policeman’s hat. 

“That was my late husband’s identification number,” she says, pointing to the number underneath the hat. 

“Oh,” Luke says, because he has absolutely no idea what the appropriate response to everybody got a tattoo last night, by the way, here’s mine of my late husband’s police hat and identification number is. The lady smiles at him again, and rolls her sleeve back down. 

“You should look for yours,” she says knowingly, like she understands this whole tattoo situation. Luke opens his mouth, although he’s not really sure what he’s about to say - thank you? Piss off? What sort of a fucking alternate universe am I living in? - but then the train doors open and he looks outside and realises this is his stop. 

“This is my stop,” he says, thankful that this incredibly uncomfortable conversation is over. “Have a nice day?” He’s not really sure why he phrases it as a question, but he doesn’t have time to think about it, grabbing his bag and coat and just about making it off the train without getting decapitated by the closing doors. 

What a weird fucking start to the day, he thinks, as he starts towards the ticket barriers, but upon realising he’s left his season ticket at home all thoughts of a tattoo leave his mind. 

 ------- 

 The first person Luke sees when he gets into the office is Calum. He’s wearing a scarf indoors, which strikes Luke as a little strange, but he doesn’t have time to ask because as soon as Luke walks into the room, Calum rounds on him.  

“Why the fuck haven’t you been answering your phone?” he demands immediately. 

“Jesus Christ,” Luke groans as he throws himself into his chair. “Not you too.” 

“What?” 

“Mike rang me trying to convince me to get naked on the train because apparently someone tattooed me in my sleep last night,” Luke says, powering up his desktop. Calum gapes at him. 

“Are you telling me you haven’t seen yours yet?” he asks in disbelief. 

“What? Cal, are you fucking serious?” Luke says, annoyed. He might be gullible, but he’s not that gullible. “I’m not falling for this shit.” 

“Have you checked the news?” 

“Yeah,” Luke says, swivelling in his chair to face Calum as he waits for his computer to turn on. “It’s got to be some kind of joke. A late April Fool’s, I dunno.” Calum stares at him as though he’s just said the sky is green, or All Time Low are a bad band, or something. 

“Are you insane?” he asks incredulously. 

“Alright, show me your fucking tattoo, then,” Luke says sarcastically. Calum hesitates. 

“I don’t want to,” he says shiftily, after a moment.  

“Right,” Luke says smugly. “See?” 

“See what?”

“Mike came up with some bullshit too,” Luke says. “Said his was fucking Duke.” Calum stares at him for a moment. 

“Wait,” he says, and he sounds a little strangled. “Duke? Like, my dog?” 

“Yeah,” Luke says pointedly, in what he hopes is a I’m not that stupid kind of tone. 

“Oh,” Calum says, and now he sounds somewhere between frightened and elated. Luke cocks his head, frowning. 

“What?” he asks. 

“It’s just…” Calum trails off, and shrugs. 

“What?” Calum bites his lip, and then tugs the scarf down. 

There, inked on the side of Calum’s neck, is a Gibson guitar with six numbers on it: 201195. It takes Luke a minute to put two and two together, but after realising it doesn’t say 2011-95 but 20-11-95, it suddenly makes sense. That’s Michael’s guitar, and that’s Michael’s birthday. 

“Oh,” he says, and now he’s just confused. “Why the fuck did you get Michael’s guitar tattooed on your neck?” Calum lets go of the scarf and it snaps back up, covering the tattoo again. 

“I didn’t,” he says. “It appeared last night.” 

“Well, where’s mine, then?” Luke asks sceptically, looking down at his hands and turning them over and over, like a tattoo is suddenly going to appear. 

“I don’t know,” Calum says. “Andy’s was on his arse.” Luke stares at him. 

“I’m not getting my arse out in the office,” he says. Calum rolls his eyes. 

“Go to the fucking toilet,” he says. Luke stands up, because it seems like until he plays into this elaborate prank it’s not going to end, and then stops. 

“Wait,” he says. “What if it is on my arse?” 

“Then it’s on your arse,” Calum says, sounding a little nonplussed. It’s Luke’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“I won’t be able to see it,” he says, hoping Calum will get the hint. Calum stares at him for a moment, then shrugs, and stands up. 

“I hope it’s on your dick,” he says, with a grin. 

“Fuck you,” Luke says, as they walk to the toilet opposite their office. Luke pushes open the door to the first cubicle, and then pauses. “Wait, is it going to look weird if we’re in a cubicle together?”

“Probably,” Calum says, but he follows Luke into the cubicle anyway, closing the door behind him. 

It’s cramped with Calum in there too, and they shuffle around each other for a moment before Calum hops onto the toilet and gets out of Luke’s way, leaving him to take his jacket off and then fiddle with his shirt buttons. 

“This is the world’s worst strip-tease,” Calum comments after a moment, and Luke scowls at him. 

“Dickhead,” he says, and then, having finally removed his shirt, he turns around to hang it on the hook on the back of the door. That’s when Calum gasps. 

“It’s, uh. It’s on your back,” he says, and he sounds a little worried. Luke twists, trying to see. 

“What?” he says, because he’s not that flexible. “Where?”

“On your shoulderblade,” Calum says, pointing, as if it’ll help. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke can see a crease of concern between Calum’s brows. 

“I can’t see,” Luke says grumpily. 

“Hang on, I’ll take a picture,” Calum says, standing up and fishing his phone out of his pocket. Luke stands still for a moment, until he reckons Calum must have taken the picture, then turns around. Calum hesitates for a moment, then thrusts the phone at Luke. 

Luke sees his skin, pale and freckled, broken up by dark black ink. It’s a strangely beautiful tattoo, a bird carrying what looks like some kind of stick in front of a waning moon. It reminds him a bit of two of his ex’s tattoos, actually - he had some kind of bird on his neck, and a bunch of moons on his forearms.

It’s that thought that’s on his mind as he looks over the picture again, and his eyes fall on the stick. 

It’s a drumstick. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“Fuck,” Luke says, and he suddenly feels sick. No fucking way has he woken up with his first ever tattoo, and it’s something to do with Ashton. “Fuck. Calum, tell me this isn’t real. Tell me this is a fucking prank.” Calum looks at him like he wishes he could tell Luke it was a prank, and shakes his head slowly. 

Luke feels his knees give out, falling to the cold tile floor hard. 

“It comes off, right?” he says, an edge of panic in his voice. Calum looks at him again, and then shakes his head again. “Cal, please. I- I can’t have a tattoo to do with Ashton.” 

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Calum says, eyes sincere and sad. 

“What does it mean?” Luke asks. Calum shrugs helplessly. 

“No one knows,” he says. 

“But you have Michael,” Luke says desperately, “and Michael’s got you.” Calum hesitates, and then shrugs again. 

“I don’t know, Luke,” he says gently. 

“Maybe it doesn’t mean anything,” Luke says, like he’s trying to convince himself more than anything. 

“Maybe,” Calum echoes, but he doesn’t sound sure at all. 

 -------

 It takes three months before it’s decided what they are. 

A huge number of studies are done in that time. Calum and Michael themselves volunteer for one, because apparently not everybody knows what - or who - theirs refers to. Some people turn out to have no tattoo, and it seems like people are only getting their tattoos on their eighteenth birthdays. It’s the only topic in the news for that entire time - the only topic of conversation, the only topic Luke encounters fucking anywhere.

He’s grateful his tattoo is on his shoulderblade, so it’s mostly hidden, because he sees everybody sneaking furtive glances at people’s necks, hands, forearms, collarbones, anywhere with visible tattoos. He dodges questions about what his tattoo is from everybody but Calum, Michael, and his family, because the words rise like bile in his throat - it’s Ashton. 

(“Oh, Luke,” Michael says sadly, when Luke tells him, and pulls him into the tightest hug Luke thinks he��s ever had.)

(“Oh, Luke,” his mum says sadly, when Luke tells her, sigh broken up by the static of the phone line.) 

(“Oh, Luke,” Jack and Ben say simultaneously on their group call, a moment of tense, awkward, sad silence hanging between them for a moment afterwards.) 

After three months, though, there’s a huge press conference. They’ve worked out what they are, the authorities say, and they’re going to do a televised conference announcing it and explaining how they reached that conclusion. 

Of course, the whole world is on tenterhooks. They do it in Europe, because it’s deemed the easiest timezone for everybody to work around, so Luke finds himself wedged between Michael and Calum on Calum’s sofa at eleven p.m., biting his nails almost obsessively. 

Michael and Calum aren’t speaking much, either. Luke’s not really sure it was the best move for them to be together while finding out what their tattoos about each other mean, but frankly, he’s too focused on finding out what his tattoo means to worry about them. 

At two minutes past eleven, researchers begin to file into the panel in front of the audience of journalists, world leaders standing behind them. It looks almost comical, Luke thinks a little hysterically, a row of men and women in lab coats to highlight their authority on the matter, the world’s most powerful people standing solemnly behind them. Some of their tattoos are visible too, but Luke’s too caught up willing time to move faster so he can finally fucking find out what having a tattoo about Ashton on his shoulderblade means. 

At four minutes past eleven, they start speaking. There’s about five minutes of preamble that Luke can’t follow, lots of words like hypothesis and methodology washing over him, and then the researcher sitting in the middle of the panel clears his throat, pushes his glasses up his nose, and takes a deep breath. 

“From these international, rigorously conducted studies of large portions of different populations, we have concluded,” he says, and nobody breathes. This is the moment. Luke’s heart seems to be trying to get his daily quota’s worth of heartbeats into a single second. “We have concluded that these tattoos appear to be soulmate markings.” 

Luke hears nothing that he says after that. 

Soulmate markings. The words echo in his mind, bouncing off every cell in his brain. 

It can’t be right, Luke thinks desperately, as he watches the panellists take questions from journalists but doesn’t hear the words they say. Ashton’s not his soulmate. There’s no such thing as soulmates, and if there were, Luke’s wouldn’t be the first man who had ever truly broken his heart, who had left him almost incapable of carrying on, who had brought him so fucking close to the precipice. 

He’d thought Ashton had been it, back then. He’d thought that he’d been so lucky to find the guy he wanted to marry so young in life. And then, three years later, Ashton had turned around one day, ashen-faced, and told him he didn’t love him anymore. 

That had been it. Luke’s world, Luke’s mind, Luke’s heart, had broken. 

So there’s no fucking way, no fucking way, that Ashton can be Luke’s soulmate. Luke’s soulmate wouldn’t have fallen out of love with him. Luke’s soulmate would never have pushed him so close to never seeing another birthday again. Luke’s soulmate wouldn’t leave him. 

Luke’s so caught up in the sickness that’s washed over him, hands trembling, freezing and sweaty, that he doesn’t realise what this means for Michael and Calum until a noise pulls him back to reality harshly. It’s Calum, clearing his throat. 

“Well,” he says, and he sounds weirdly high-pitched, and suddenly Luke thinks, shit. Calum and Michael are soulmates. 

“Yep,” Michael says, equally high-pitched and slightly choked. 

“Oh,” Luke puts in, because fuck, Calum and Michael are soulmates. 

“Oh,” Calum says, like he’s just remembered Luke’s there, and then there’s two sets of arms around Luke, warm and vanilla and mint and pine. 

“Oh, Luke,” Michael says, and he sounds so sad that Luke’s heart breaks all over again. 

Neither of them say anything more, because there’s so much to say that picking any one thing would be doing everything else an injustice.

 -------

 Luke does nothing about it for five weeks. 

Michael and Calum don’t say anything about it either, not wanting to push, but Luke’s getting kind of sick of the wary looks they send in his direction, of the whispered conversations that stop as soon as he walks into the room. They’ve fallen into it so easily that it chokes Luke up when he sees them, easy touches and glances that they’ve always had but have somehow taken on a new meaning. 

(“When did you know?” Luke asks Calum one night over the phone, staring up at his ceiling. 

“That I was in love with him?” Calum asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“I’ve always known,” Calum says, and Luke’s heart hurts because he’s so happy for them, he is, but he’s so fucking miserable.) 

He jumps every time he gets a text for the first few weeks, thinking it might be Ashton, and filled with both relief and a little bit of disappointment when it never is. His mum doesn’t ask, and neither does his dad, and nor do Jack and Ben, and he loves them all for it. He doesn’t want to talk about it, but he hates the way it hangs, thick and solid in the air between them all every time he calls. 

Five weeks is when he breaks. 

He’s in the toilet at work, sat fully-clothed on the closed toilet seat, practically hyperventilating as he types, erases, types, erases. 

Hey. I know we haven’t spoken in years-

Hey. I know we haven’t spoken in a while-

Hi. It’s Luke. 

Hi. It’s Luke (Hemmings).

It feels fucking awful still, even after a few years have passed, to see Ashton Irwin staring at him at the top of the screen, not the stupid inside joke contact name he’d had for the entirety of their relationship. It feels fucking awful typing so formally. It feels fucking awful not knowing what to say to someone who used to know Luke better than anyone else. The whole thing feels fucking awful. 

Eventually, when he’s been sat on the toilet for so long his arse is starting to go numb, he just types two words. 

What’s yours? 

He puts his phone back in his pocket, unlocks the cubicle with shaking fingers, and goes to wash his hands, because otherwise it’ll look like he’s incredibly unhygienic. 

His phone buzzes as he’s drying his hands, and his heart lurches. He hastily wipes his hands on his trousers, fumbling with trembling fingers with his phone and nearly throwing up when he sees Ashton Irwin flashing up on his screen. 

Ashton Irwin It’s you. 

 ------- 

 Luke sits on the information for two days before telling Michael and Calum. 

They’re at Michael’s, sitting on the sofa eating pizza (or, at least, Michael and Calum are eating pizza - Luke’s half-heartedly prodding at his), and Calum and Michael are having some kind of a heated squabble about whether tuna on pizza is acceptable or not, and Luke just blurts it out. 

“I texted Ashton,” he says suddenly, and both Michael and Calum stop, dead still. 

“You- what?” Michael says, after a few (incredibly strained) seconds have passed. 

“I texted Ashton,” Luke repeats, mumbling this time. He’s gazing intently at his pizza, mostly to avoid looking at Calum or Michael. 

“Did he reply?” Calum asks. 

“Yeah,” Luke says. Both Michael and Calum inhale sharply. 

“What did he say?” Michael asks. Luke swallows. He doesn’t think he can say it out loud. 

“I-” he starts, but cuts himself off, the words too heavy for his tongue to handle. He shakes his head instead, fishing for his phone in his pocket, and chucks it over to Calum, who catches it deftly. Michael leans over as Calum types in Luke’s passcode - his birthday, because he’s too stupid to remember any other date - and there’s a moment of tension, of bated breath, as they wait for the message to load. 

Luke knows when they’ve seen it because both of their faces contort into the same expression, somewhere between worry, confusion, fear, concern and sympathy. 

“Fuck,” Michael says, staring at Luke almost hesitantly, like he’s about to implode. 

“Are you okay?” Calum asks quietly. Luke shrugs. 

“I don’t know,” he says honestly, because he doesn’t. He’s over Ashton, he is, but he’s never going to forgive or forget the way Ashton left him, the way he broke him and swept away, not even glancing at the pieces of Luke he left in his wake. Ashton can’t be his soulmate. 

“That’s okay,” Calum says, calm and reassuring. “It’s okay to not know.” 

“It’s just a tattoo,” Michael says. “Tattoos can’t tell you who to love.” 

It makes Luke feel a little better. 

 -------

 He doesn’t text Ashton again. 

In fact, he’s almost succeeded in pushing Ashton into a corner of his mind again, shoving him back into the Do Not Open box that this tattoo business had let him out of, when his phone buzzes in the middle of the night a week later. 

He reaches over groggily, aiming to turn off whatever it is that’s lighting up his screen and sending vibrations resonating through his bedside table, but wakes up with a shot of adrenaline when he sees the name lighting up his screen. 

Ashton Irwin We should probably talk about this. 

Luke sits bolt upright in bed, palms suddenly sweating. The only thing he can think to do is unlock his phone and dial Michael, knowing he’ll be up, even though it’s two a.m. 

“What?” Michael asks, sounding slightly irked. Luke can hear clicking in the background, so it’s probably a safe bet that he’s playing a game. 

“Ashton texted me,” he says, and the clicking stops. 

“What did he say?” 

“Uh,” Luke says, holding the phone away from his ear and squinting as the bright screen blinds him in the darkness of the room. He fumbles for his light switch with one hand while exiting back into the messages app with the other. “‘We should probably talk about this.’” 

“Yeah, we should,” Michael says, “that’s why I’m asking what he texted you.” 

“No, that’s what he said,” Luke says. 

“He said you should talk about it?” 

“Yeah.” There’s a pause.

“That bastard,” Michael says calmly. “What did you say?”

“Nothing, yet,” Luke says. “I called you first.” 

“Tell him ‘nah, you’re good’,” Michael says, and Luke knows he’s only, like, ten percent joking. 

“Michael,” he says, tone admonishing, but his stomach feels a little lighter. Knowing he’s got Michael and Calum on his side - fiercely on his side - makes it feel a lot less scary, a lot easier to handle. 

“Well, what do you want to say?” Michael asks. 

“I don’t know,” Luke says. He’s fantasised about this so many times since they broke up - about Ashton texting him, about Luke having the power to say no, or say yes - but he’s never decided on a resolute response in his daydreams. 

“You don’t have to reply,” Michael says. “You don’t owe him shit.” 

“I know,” Luke says, and it comforts him, somehow. “Maybe I won’t.” 

“I’ll reply for you,” Michael says, and then there’s more clicking. “Just give me a few minutes to look up how to say ‘go fuck yourself’ in at least forty different languages.” Luke laughs at that, the knot in his stomach loosening considerably.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” he says, because now that he’s talking about it, now that it’s not just in his own head and his own heart, it feels a lot less frightening. “What a fucking joke. We get soulmates, and mine’s Ashton?” 

“That’s what you get for saying my fringe was ugly in Year Seven,” Michael says. 

“It was ugly.”

“Well, now something else terrible is going to happen to you,” Michael says cheerfully. 

“What’s worse than waking up with a giant tattoo about Ashton on my back?” Luke says. 

“Having to speak to him again,” Michael says. Luke doesn’t really think he can argue with that. 

“I’m going to turn my phone off,” he says, stifling a yawn, because now that the adrenaline’s subsided, the exhaustion is kicking in again. 

“You should just block him,” Michael suggests. Luke is sorely tempted for a moment, but then sighs.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, because it’s too late, and he’s not thinking straight, and he doesn’t want to do something he’ll regret. “Thanks for listening to me, Mikey.” 

“Always,” Michael says, with a sincerity Luke didn’t know he had in him. “But you’re going to have to pay me for my services in food.�� 

“I’ll cook for you,” Luke says. 

“I said food, not chargrilled remnants of what used to be pasta,” Michael says. 

“I can cook pasta,” Luke protests. 

“‘Cook’ is a bit of a strong word to describe what you can do with pasta,” Michael says. 

“Arsehole,” Luke says, but he’s smiling. 

“Love you too,” Michael says, and Luke can hear the grin in his voice. “Go to bed.” 

“Alright, mum,” Luke grumbles. “Night.”

“Night,” Michael says, and then he hangs up, and Luke’s suddenly all too aware of the silence and darkness and sheer loneliness of his room. 

He switches his phone off, rolls over, and lets the warm feeling of knowing Michael’s there for him envelop him, eventually drifting off to sleep.

 -------

 “So,” Calum says, when Luke walks into work the next morning, exhausted and late. He’s swivelled around in his chair to face Luke, fingers steepled against his chin like he’s deep in thought. “Did you text him back?” Luke scowls. 

“I wish Michael would let me tell you things myself,” he says, slamming his bag onto his desk with a little more force than strictly necessary. 

“Did you?” Calum asks again. Luke shakes his head, throwing himself down in his chair, taking his phone out of his bag and putting it on the table before chucking his bag under his desk. 

“I don’t know if I want to,” he says. 

“Fair enough,” Calum says, with a shrug. Luke bites his lip. 

“Do you think I should?” Calum shrugs again. 

“I think you should do what feels right,” he says. 

“I don’t know what feels right,” Luke moans, putting his head in his hands. “He’s my fucking ex. He fell out of love with me. How is he my soulmate?” 

“Maybe he’s, like, a platonic soulmate?” Calum offers, and then recoils in the heat of the glare Luke sends his way. 

“Ashton’s not really high up on the list of people I’m looking to be friends with,” Luke says. Calum looks like he’s about to say something, but then Luke’s phone buzzes. He looks over, half-expecting it to be Michael, but-

Ashton Irwin Don’t ignore me, Luke. This is important. 

Anger suddenly flares hot in Luke’s stomach. 

“Is it him?” Calum asks. Luke nods, and holds the phone up over his desk for Calum to see. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“He texted me at two a.m.,” Luke says. 

“He’s so fucking entitled,” Calum says, sounding almost as irate as Luke feels. Luke’s so angry that he types out a response without even thinking about it. 

Me Are you fucking serious? You texted me at two in the morning. 

“What did you say?” Calum wants to know, and Luke dutifully reads it out to him. Calum nods approvingly. “Call him a bastard next time.” Luke laughs, both bitter and amused, and then his phone buzzes again. 

Ashton Irwin I know you’re at work. 

Ashton Irwin Call me on your lunch break? 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Luke mutters, thrusting his phone at Calum. 

“At least he put a question mark this time,” Calum says. “Fucking arsehole.” 

Luke’s fingers are shaking as he types.

Me Fuck you. You left me like it was nothing, like I meant nothing after I gave all of myself to you for three years. You never checked in on me, never asked about me, never bothered seeing if I was okay. You just told me you fell out of love with me, and then up and left. You don’t get to demand shit from me now. 

Luke erases it all. 

Me I don’t have anything to say to you.

The typing bubble pops up as soon as Luke’s sent the message, and he watches the words form in front of his eyes. 

Ashton Irwin I do, though. 

 ------- 

 Luke’s not really sure how he finds himself standing outside in the biting early-October wind on his lunch break, finger hovering over the dial button on Ashton’s contact name. 

He’s been standing there for five minutes, almost pressing it but never quite getting there (except one time his finger had slipped and he’d pressed it and then stabbed the ‘end call’ button about fifty times straight in a blind panic). 

On the one hand, he really, really doesn’t want to talk to Ashton. He’s moved on from Ashton, with a lot of expensive therapy, a lot of leaning on his friends more than he should have and a lot of eating his body weight in processed food, and he wants Ashton to stay a part of his past. He’s worked hard to get to where he is today, and he doesn’t need to be flung back to where he had been. 

On the other hand, this is kind of a big deal. They’re soulmates. Ashton was right, although Luke doesn’t want to admit it - this is something they should talk about. Plus, it can’t hurt to hear what Ashton has to say, right?

With ten minutes left of his lunch break and approximately the same amount of time before he has to start sacrificing fingers to frostbite, Luke takes a deep breath and presses the dial button. 

It rings twice, and then there’s a click as Ashton picks up. 

“Hello?” Ashton says, and Luke suddenly feels incredibly sick. He hasn’t heard Ashton’s voice in two years, not since he was telling Luke he didn’t love him anymore, and it throws Luke back to that place, making him feel small and vulnerable and pathetic. 

“Hi,” he says, and he’s proud of how steady his voice comes out given the circumstances. “I have ten minutes.” 

“Okay,” Ashton says. “You’re still living in Sydney, then?” 

“What?” Luke says, slightly taken aback by the question. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Cool,” Ashton says. There’s a moment of awkward silence, and Luke contemplates Googling the quickest way to end his own life before Ashton speaks again. 

“How are you?” he asks, and Luke can’t help but laugh at that. 

“Are you fucking serious?” he asks, and he suddenly feels a little better, a little more in control. Ashton’s asking how he is, and he’s the one laughing. He’s the one with the power. Ashton wants to talk to Luke - Luke doesn’t want to talk to Ashton. 

“What?” Ashton sounds a bit defensive. 

“Get to the point,” Luke says, feeling braver and bigger with every passing second. “I didn’t call for a fucking catch up.” 

“Jesus,” Ashton mutters. “What the fuck happened to you?” You happened, Luke thinks bitterly, but he won’t give Ashton that satisfaction. 

“I grew a fucking spine,” he says instead. “Just tell me what you wanted to talk about.” 

“Well,” Ashton says. “I just- I feel like we should talk about the fact that we’re...y’know. Soulmates.” 

“I don’t have anything to say about it,” Luke says. 

“Are you serious, Luke?” Ashton says, sounding slightly pissed off, and Luke’s caught off-guard for a moment, hearing his name in Ashton’s familiar yet strange voice again. 

“Yeah,” Luke says, and he can’t help the bitterness that tinges his tone. “You fucking left, Ashton, and it’s been two years. What the fuck am I supposed to have to say to you?” 

“We’re soulmates,” Ashton says, like that’s supposed to mean something to Luke. 

“Oh, what, so you wouldn’t have fallen out of love with me if you got a fucking tattoo a few years earlier?” Luke says, fury swirling in his chest. “You needed a bit of ink to tell you who to love?” 

“That’s not what I mean,” Ashton says, even though to Luke it sounds like it’s exactly what he means. 

“Right,” Luke says sarcastically. “What’s the point in this call?” 

“To fucking talk, Luke, not have you bite my head off,” Ashton says. The fury grows hotter in Luke’s chest, seeping into his veins and heating up his muscles. 

“Talk about what?” he spits. 

“You’re my fucking soulmate!” Ashton says, voice rising. “Don’t you want to fucking talk about it?” 

“No!” Luke shouts, and two passers-by give him an odd look. He lowers his voice, and tries again. “No. I don’t have anything to say about it.” 

“I think we should meet up,” Ashton says. 

“I think you’re fucking insane,” Luke tells him. “I’m going back to work. Don’t contact me again.” 

“Wait,” Ashton nearly yells, and Luke, out of instinct, hesitates. “Uh. What’s your-  what’s it of?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Luke growls, and hangs up. 

He lets out a shaky exhale as he tips his head back against the cold brick wall behind him, anger pounding through his veins, ringing in his ears. 

Fuck Ashton Irwin, he thinks, blinking up at the cloudless sky. Fuck Ashton Irwin, and fuck the soulmate tattoos. 

chapter two

[goodgodbean]

East To West - Calum Hood

Hey guys! This is part twoooo!! So excited for this series! Just know that I took creative liberty with the boys in this - i don’t own their brand and i don’t personally know them. I hope you guys enjoy angsty Calum!

+++

Masterlist

Part 1 + Part 3

+++

Part 2. Neptune

Becca stood behind the door to her room, clicking the lock into place. The phone call had scooped out all of her internal organs and had left her hollow. On shaky legs she walks to a shelf on the side of her room and lifts a ceramic box to the top shelf. The box is white, hand painted with flowers with their latin names. She opens the lid on the hinge and sifts through the letters and cards inside the box, until she feels the felt bottom and the picture that sat at the bottom of the stack. 

Two years ago, Becca was lost in her own mind. She drifted across oceans of loneliness while surrounded by people. She had paid a psychic 30 dollars to draw her soulmate. When she got the copy in the mail, she laughed. The face was plastered everywhere in the United States at that time, Calum Hood. He is from the band Five Seconds Of Summer who had just released their 3rd studio album, Youngblood. 

She kept the picture though. The artist had somehow captured a love and hollow loneliness on his face and in his eyes, something that looked just as how she was feeling. 

Becca unfolded the picture for the first time in 6 months. He still took her breath away.

He has a picture of her too, at least according to Benny. 

He hired a Private Investigator to find her. 

He’s trying to find her. 

She sat down on her bed, holding the creased paper. What was he doing now?

Los Angeles parties and clubs are more about who was going home with who at the end of the night. Not that Calum was exactly looking to go home with anybody. Not that anybody else caught that message. Girls hit on him, ones that knew who he was and some that just knew he was remotely somebody. Some girls sat a couple seats away and tried to not look too interested in him, but interesting enough for him to approach them. It didn’t work. 

Calum’s friends are all desperately in love and only had eyes for their significant other’s. Out of the band, Calum was the only one that wasn’t dating or in love. It never stopped girls and guys from hitting on his bandmates. Then, when they couldn’t get anywhere with his bandmates they would move onto Calum. Like he was some second-class member. The thought rubbed harshly against his brain. 

Calum kept his eyes down on his alcohol. Every time he looked at another woman he thought of the drawing. Every time he closed his eyes he was haunted by her. A shadow of the picture would appear behind his eyelids, and look at him. He wanted to rip his heart out every time he saw the drawing. To know that he might have been let on a wild goose chase, but this women, this drawing, left him with so much want every time. It wasn't just how beautiful she was that he wanted. 

He wanted the little moments with somebody - with her - that his bandmates would talk and sing about. That those songs from every artist were about. The free fall of love, the drop of your stomach when you realize just how in deep you were. The rise of breath when you realize that they love you back. He wanted all the little moments too, to learn her quirks and mannerisms, what she likes and hates. The little fights and the big ones that slam doors, but end up in slow sweet kisses and apologies. He wanted the happy moments at restaurants where you can’t take your eyes off of each other and laughing so hard that milk comes out of your nose. The want settles in the pit of his stomach like a rock. 

But, the private investigator would find her. He had to find her. 

“Earth to Calum?” A hand clapped on Calum’s shoulder. Calum’s eyes snapped to the hand, his head slowly following and lifting. 

“Yes?” His voice sounded unfinished, as if he needed that sandpaper to smooth it down. 

“We’re gonna take off - you alright?” Ashton asks, but his eyes are barley looking at Calum. His eyes are trailing his girl who is hugging the rest of the group goodbye and giggling at a girl’s comment. 

Calum, in that moment, wanted to shout what had happened. What insanity he had done, but he sews his mouth closed. A nod would suffice. 

Ashton seemed to accept that answer and he left, an arm around the waist of his girl, tucking her into his chest. She giggled and allowed herself to be pulled closer. Calum’s eyes are on the door long after they leave. 

The rest of his friends trickle out in the the coming hour, all clapping a hand on Calum’s shoulder and wishing him a good night. He didn’t even bother to sit with them tonight. It would be like releasing a guppy into the ocean. His words would be quickly talked over and eaten by some bigger shark. Like Luke. 

Calum shouldn’t have a problem with Luke. Hell, Calum isn’t sure that Luke knows that he has a problem with Luke. Sometimes when Luke talks, or does something and everybody cheers and loves him… Calum just wishes that was him. It was an insane jealousy that pumps through his veins like sickly green blood vessels. 

It wasn’t just the social acceptance that Luke had, it was his charisma. He is just so magnetic, that everybody's eyes just trail to him. He had it when they were children even, thats why he was the frontman. Nobody could take his eyes off him anyways. 

God damn, did Calum want to be magnetic like Luke. He wanted to be able to control a crowd while whispering. Or even Michael, who could stand silent on a stage and they would cheer desperately for him. Or maybe Ashton, who doesn’t have a fraction of Luke’s magnetic energy, but enough confidence to balance it out. 

Calum wished to be anybody but himself most days. He wished he could muster up enough courage around his bandmates to even ask for more singing roles, but he couldn’t and they all went to Luke. It seemed like everything went to Luke sometimes. 

He couldn’t quite pinpoint when it started, but Calum resented his bandmates. It was a gradual thing, where every small snub had made him quieter and quieter. They didn’t really ever mean for it to snub him, but it all left it’s mark on him. Somehow every time they talked to him, it felt more like an insult than any concern.

Calum left money on the bar - probably too much - and leaves. His car is parked in the lot off the side of the building, but Calum walks the other way. The truth was that his secret escape was only a couple blocks away.

He doesn’t remember the exact moment he decided to rent his own get-a-way in the the city that he hates. He could fly to Australia if he really wanted to, to get to his real home, but it seemed like too much hassle. So he slinks through downtown LA in his grey zip up hoodie and thick jeans. 

The doorman, who was payed off for discretion, nods to Calum as he enters. Calum sometimes wonders what would happen if he took the chance and didn’t pay people off often. He also wonders what it would  be like to not have to pay people off to begin with. If he could just live in his little getaway all the time. If he never joined the band. 

These were dangerous thoughts that only made the noose around his neck tighten. They only made him feel more alone and stuck. It only made him feel like a wild animal, caged as an attraction. 

Calum unlocks his door and enters his little apartment. Exposed brick lines one wall, and potted plants lines the adjacent windowsill and the space below it. The ivy had been growing since the last time Calum had been here, crawling onto the brick wall and over the old golden couch that Calum bought second hand. The previous owner had broken one of the couch’s stubby legs, (and superglued it back on) the cushions had sunken in, and the material had faded to a mustard color. The TV shoved into the corner was the old-style with it’s back jutting out. The TV sat on a wonky dark wood table, that was probably a coffee table since it had light rings on it from wet glasses. A couple frames were sitting on coffee tables, inside them were pictures of his family - nothing referring to Calum’s famous lifestyle. Posters from Calum’s old room in Australia were hung on the walls a little crooked. They were such a bitch to put up alone that he never bothered to straighten them. As far as anybody knew, the posters were thrown out by Calum years ago when his parents moved. 

Calum dropped his keys into the ceramic dish by the front door - his sister had made it when they were young and gifted it to him as a joke when she was cleaning out her old room. That, as far as most know was also thrown out by Calum. It just didn’t fit into his supposed lifestyle. 

He goes for the water jug next to water his plants that have been neglected for the past few days. Little does he know that this world, the world that he wishes he could live in, is a mirror to Becca’s world, just under 3,000 miles away.

[sparklingskz]

across the world | lee felix

▸ anon requested: Can you write an enemies to lovers au with Felix?

▸ genre: fluff, angst, enemies to friends to lovers lol

▸  pairing: reader x felix

▸ description: you and felix were best friends, suddenly you move across the world and things end badly. Now you’re back, and moving across him.

▸ word count: 3.5k

▸ warnings: swearing, alcohol

▸  a/n: thank you for requesting!! this one’s a bit longer uwu btw I’m almost sure this is gender neutral but if something slipped please tell me!!

“Felix? Is that you?” you said in a surprised tone.

The man in question was standing by his door, keys in hand ready to unlock it. He was the same boy you remembered, only with more freckles and with light brown hair instead of the dark shade he sported in school. However, his expression exuded coldness towards you, not the welcoming gaze you were used to seeing in him.

Felix and you were the absolute best friends in high school. Of course, each of you had a small group of other friends, but neither of you were as close with them as you were with each other. You met in 10th grade, when you were assigned partners during a class you both hated, and bonded over that. You were inseparable since that moment; you shared secrets, did a lot of stuff together and partnered in class all the time.

Along the way, you don’t know exactly when, you noticed you had a tiny crush on Felix. Just a teeny tiny crush, which you would bury deep inside of you and never act on it as to not ruin your friendship. You never changed your attitude towards the boy as to not expose yourself, but always, in the back of your mind, was this voice freaking out over the tiniest of touches, smallest of smiles and the lock of your gazes.

That way the last year of high school came around, and your school had a tradition of setting up a dance during the last day of school, to celebrate the end of another year. People often went to the dance with a partner or with a group of friends, and, in all honestly, you didn’t know who you would be going with.

Of course, your first thought was Felix. Would it be weird? Would he discover you had a crush on him if you asked him to go to the dance with you? He hadn’t commented anything about the dance around you, so you didn’t know if he was going with someone either. That was until you overheard one of your classmates talking in the hallway.

“Yeah, I’m probably going with Felix to the dance. It’s going to be so much fun!”

Then and there, your heart broke just a little bit. You continued walking, desperate to just get to your next class and forget about the stupid dance.

You were in your seat, taking out your notes when you feel someone tap your shoulder. You turned around and saw Hyunjin, one of the boys from your friend group.

“Hey y/n, do you have a partner for the dance?” He said while smiling.

“Nope.” You answered, emphasizing on the “p”.

“Not going with Felix?” He inquired, tilting his head.

“Apparently not.” You sighed.

He thought for a second. “Well, how about we go together? In a super friendly way, of course.”

You pondered your options. Showing up at the dance alone while Felix was having fun with his partner, or go with Hyunjin, who was your friend and a super cool guy to spend time with? You’ll take the second one, please.

“Okay, I don’t see why not.” You said while throwing a smile in his direction.

“Cool, I’ll text you the details.” He said just when the teacher entered the classroom, and you turned around in your seat to face the front.

You wouldn’t let a stupid crush defeat you.

While the days until the dance decreased Felix still hadn’t said anything about his partner, so you didn’t mention you were going with Hyunjin. That was until the day before the dance, when he was hanging out in your house and he brought it up.

“Hey, what time should I pick you up to go to the dance?” he said nonchalantly.

You froze. “Uh, what do you mean?”

“What I just said?” He said in a “duh” tone.

“We’re going together?” You inquired.

“I assumed so? We’re best friends.” He said as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Hyunjin invited me, so I’m going with him.” You said, almost dreading his reaction.

Felix just looked at you, and suddenly stood up. “I’m going home.” He picked up his stuff and headed for the door.

“Hey! Felix, wait!” You said. “Why are you so mad? I thought you already had a partner!”

“No, y/n. I was always thinking of you. Have fun with Hyunjin.” He said before closing the door behind him, and you felt that he took your heart with him.

The day of the dance, you and Felix ignored each other the whole time. You tried to not think about him and have some fun with Hyunjin, but every time you seemed to forget you saw the freckled boy standing there with his friends, or dancing.

What you felt the worst about was one thing, though. You hadn’t told him about an important detail in your life, because you were waiting to do it at your house the day before the dance, but he left angrily.

You were going to attend college in America, not in Australia.

You didn’t want to leave without talking to Felix, so you approached him before the dance ended. It didn’t matter if he was mad at you, he was probably going to be even madder now.

“Um, Felix?” You said cautiously.

He turned around. “What?” You almost flinched at the coldness of his tone.

“I need to tell you something, and I’m so sorry for leaving it for the last minute.” You took a deep breath. “I’m leaving Australia in a few days, I’m attending college in America.”

You saw the flash of confusion and hurt in his eyes. “And you’re telling me now?” he emphasized the last word. “I thought we were best friends, y/n. Best friends who told each other everything. Now you couldn’t even tell me you were going to a whole different continent? I was hoping we’d still be able to talk and see each other, even if we were in different colleges! Now you’re going to be away for years!” he said angrily.

“We can still talk-“

“I don’t want to talk with you.” He interrupted, and left.

A few days later, you flew to America and went to college there. You really liked your campus, you made plenty of friends but you missed good old Australia. That’s why, four years later, you returned to your country, having finished your studies and graduated.

A few days after you came back, you had found and rented a cute one bedroom apartment (with a bit of your parent’s help, of course) that was close to your new job, and had just finished moving in when it happened.

You hadn’t seen or talked to Felix since you fought at the dance all those years ago. That was, until now.

You were leaving your apartment to do some grocery shopping, when you saw your neighbor just about to open his door. This was your first time meeting him and he looked about your age, so you wanted to make a good first impression.

“Hi, I’m your new neighbor, y/n.” You introduced yourself.

The boy turned around, and was about to answer when he froze.

You froze too.

“Felix? Is that you?” Hesitance was clear in your tone.

He stared at you for a few more seconds, but then it seemed like he got out of a trance and quickly opened his door and closed it behind him.

You stood there, still frozen in place, not processing you had just seen him. You often thought about Felix while you were in America, the prospect of seeing him again always in the back of your mind, but you never imagined it was actually going to happen.

Now you’d have to live knowing he’s there, just a few footsteps away from you, but probably not wanting to see you. You thought about just knocking on his door, but he’s most likely in the same state as you, only more shocked. You’d give him time, but as apparently you were neighbors now you’d probably see him again sooner or later, and when that happened you’d try talking to him. Yes. Good plan.

Turns out the next time you saw Felix was rather sooner than later. You were walking down the stairs to go get some mail you received, but stopped at the end of the staircase when you saw your old friend standing in front of the mail boxes, reading his mail. You internally debated if you should go over there or not, but it was a perfect opportunity to talk to him.

You stood next to him, took a deep breath and spoke.

“Um… Hi.” You said, taking out your mail and pretending to analyze it really hard.

You felt Felix turn to look at you, and you looked back.

“Hi.” He said, kind of coldly. Hey, it was a start.

“So…” You started saying. “I’m back.”

Perhaps that was not what you should have said. “I can see that.” He said closing his mail box harshly before turning on his feet and heading up the stairs quickly, probably towards his apartment.

You sighed and closed your mailbox. It was going to be extremely difficult to regain his confidence, hell you didn’t even know if he even wanted to be friends with you again. However, that didn’t mean that you weren’t going to try.

That’s why the next time you saw him, you tried to have an actual conversation with him. You were both entering the building, Felix obviously trying to walk quicker than you to avoid conversation.

“Hey Felix?” You said catching up to him.

He sighed. “What do you want, y/n?”

You were about to say something along the lines of “don’t you think it’s weird that we live in the same building and are next door neighbors?? haha insane right”, but the only thing you could muster out was a small “I missed you…”

Felix sighed again. “I missed you too, y/n. But I suffered so much when you left, in less than a day I lost my best friend in the entire world. When I saw you again the other day, all the memories came crashing back, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Let’s talk then, let’s be friends again.” You said hopefully.

“I’m afraid not, y/n.” He said.

Before you could even ask him why, he quickly entered his apartment. You entered yours, and wondered how a simple misunderstanding and a trip to another continent damaged things so bad between you two. Come to think of it, it wasn’t fair to him that you didn’t tell him you were moving, but you thought you two would keep talking while you were away. The dance messed it all up, and you were still paying for it.

However, you were an adult now, and there was a simple way to forget about your problems: alcohol.

Felix was sitting on his couch watching a movie when he heard it: the sound of a bunch of objects hitting the floor and a loud “Fuck!” coming from the hallway. His curiosity got the best of him and he got up to open the door and peek outside, and he definitely did not expect to see what he saw.

There you were on the floor, clumsily picking up the things that fell out of your bag.

“y/n?” He said hesitantly. “Are you ok?”

You turned your head to look at him. “Uh… Yeah. Perfectly fine.”

Felix immediately knew you were a bit drunk.

“Are you drunk?”

“What? Me? Of course not.” You said as you tried to stand up, almost falling down in the process, but Felix quickly reacted and caught you before you could fall over. He steadied you on your feet and let go.

Felix sighed. “Where are your keys?”

You patted your pockets. “Uh… I was searching for them when everything slipped out… But here they are!” You held them proudly in one hand.

“Okay, now open your door.” Felix said.

You took the keys and tried putting the right one in the lock. This was apparently very difficult given your dizzy state, which is why Felix gently took them from you and opened the door.

The second you entered your apartment, you took off your shoes, put your bag down and threw yourself on the couch. Felix just stood in the doorframe, watching amusedly.

“You should go sleep in your bed, y/n.” He said tiredly.

“But it’s soooooo far.” You retorted.

Felix just chuckled and helped you stand up, guiding you to your bedroom, which was easy for him to find as his apartment had the same layout as yours.

“Don’t you want to change into something more comfortable?” He said, looking at your night out clothes.

“Uh… Probably.” You said while going over to your closet, not without a bit of difficulty.

“I’ll leave you to that.” Felix said, while he went to the kitchen to get you a glass of water.

He waited until you changed and then left the glass on your bedside table. Why was he even doing this? Taking care of you? After everything that happened?

“Okay, I’ll be going now.” He said.

You turned to look at him. “I’m so sorry for everything Felix… I was so horrible for doing that to you. I cared so much about you, hell, I still do. Please, I want to talk to you again.” You started saying, almost pleading.

Felix sighed. “We’ll talk when you’re sober.” He retorted, and left you alone.

When you woke up the next day, your head was pounding. You weren’t that drunk the night before, just enough to forget about Felix and have some fun. You vaguely remember Felix helping you in your apartment, and shame crept over you. You weren’t glad he saw you in that state, but another part of you was happy he helped you.

After freshening up a little and eating breakfast, you decidedly went over to Felix’s door and knocked. It wasn’t too early, so you were sure he was home. A few seconds later the door opened, revealing the freckled boy.

“Oh.” He just said.

“Uh… Hi.” You started saying nervously. “Firstly, I came to say sorry you had to see me like that yesterday… I wasn’t thinking correctly. Secondly, I wanted to say thank you for helping me, you didn’t have to do that but you did…”

“It’s no problem.”

You took in a big breath, and just started talking. “You know, Felix, the last thing I expected when I moved here was to live right across from you, my best friend, or well, my ex best friend. But I’d like to think it was for a reason, you know? You were the only person I was truly close to in high school, I appreciated your friendship so much. I know it’s going to be difficult, but there’s nothing I want more in the world than having you back. So please, can we fix things?”

Felix looked like he was taking in all your words. “Come in.” He suddenly said, stepping apart to let you into his apartment.

“Thank you so much.” You said as you stepped inside.

The both of you sat down in the sofa, plenty of distance between you. The air was tense, so you spoke first.

“Again, I’m so sorry I left Australia so suddenly. I should’ve talked to you first.”

“Yeah, you should’ve. But I still have some fault in everything that happened. The both of us shouldn’t have assumed things, but we did and now we’re here, years later.”

You smiled a bit. “Yeah, we’re whole adults now.”

Felix went silent for a bit, and then spoke. “It was so difficult seeing you again, y/n. I thought you were out of my life for good.” Sadness was evident in his tone.

“But now I’m here, and I’d like to make things right. Maybe we could hang out so we can catch up? There are lots of things to tell, I assume.” You said hopefully.

Felix looked deep in thought. You knew you were pushing your luck here, but if he said yes, you’d be able to fix things.

“Okay, let’s try that.”

You smiled brightly, happiness flooding your body. “Thank you. How about we go to my apartment, I make some lunch, and we can talk?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Things were surely weird at first. Felix was sitting on one of your kitchen stools while you cooked, and he was mostly in silence while you talked about your adventures in university. After a while though, it seemed like he gave up on the cold exterior and started talking too, putting you up to date on his life.

Once you finished cooking and served two plates, you sat down and continued talking. You couldn’t believe how much you had missed him, from the way he spoke to his smile. You felt at home with him, even after years had passed.

You both shared anecdotes from your time apart, talked about the new friends you made, your actual jobs, and reminisced over old high school stories from when you were best friends. That’s when the air got a bit tense, as you started talking about how close you were.

“You know…” He started saying. “I want to apologize for treating you badly the first few times we saw each other here. It was probably unnecessary.”

“No, I get it. I suddenly disappear from your life and now I’m back, you have every right to be upset.”

He stayed silent for a moment. “I’m not upset anymore… I want you back in my life y/n, now that we talked I realized how much I missed my best friend, and I won’t let the opportunity of having you back again slip from my fingers.”

You smiled widely. “That makes me so happy to hear.”

The next few weeks consisted of you going to work and hanging out with Felix. Both of you came over to each other’s apartment’s all of the time, sometimes staying over for dinner or just to watch some TV and talk. You were so glad to have your best friend back, and thanked the universe for making you live right across from him. However, along with the happiness you felt, something else returned.

That was, you were slowly realizing your crush on Felix was coming back. Every time he talked or smiled you fell a little deeper, plus his attitude didn’t really change so your dumb high school crush didn’t have a reason to leave either, even after all these years.

The thing is, you weren’t really sure of what Felix felt towards you. You know you just started being friends again after the awkwardness of the first encounters, but you have grown really close these past weeks. You have a slight feeling he may like you back, just a tiny bit. It may be the lingering stares, the small touches or the wide smiles, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up, even when your heart sped up whenever these happened.

One day, you were both sitting on his couch, a boring TV show playing in the background while you talked about anything and everything, as you used to. After a few moments of silence, Felix spoke.

“You know,” he started saying. “I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school.” He finished with a small giggle. “That’s why I was so mad we weren’t going to the dance together.”

You froze. Did you hear that right?

“You- you did?”

“Yeah…” He scratched his neck. “I mean, we were always together and you’re amazing, how could I have not had a crush on you?”

Maybe it was time to come clean too.

“Well, you’re not the only one because I used to have a crush on you too.” You said, probably blushing.

“Wait really? Why didn’t you say anything!” he exclaimed, hitting your arm playfully.

“Why would I?” you laughed. “I wasn’t sure you liked me back, I wasn’t going to go and ruin our friendship.”

“We’re so stupid.” Felix laughed. “If only we said anything…”

A tense silence filled up the room.

“Fuck it.” You heard Felix mutter under his breath. “y/n, I think I still have that crush on you. Or at least it came back after seeing you again.”

You sat there frozen for a few seconds, processing his words. Then you also decided to say fuck it and leaned forward to press your lips against Felix’s.

You felt as he was shocked for a few milliseconds but then immediately reciprocated the kiss, putting his hands on both sides of your cheeks. It was just the press of your lips against each other, but the way your heart was racing showed how much you have been anticipating this.

You broke apart after a few seconds and looked into each other’s eyes, Felix’s hands still on your face. You could see every one of his freckles from this close up, he was so beautiful.

Felix smiled. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” he said.

You smiled back. “There’s nothing that would make me happier.”

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Remnants, Part III

This is going to be a slow burn. Much more to come.

   Summary: You are in the midst of formulating your dissertation, but you’ve hit a wall. Your doting aunt, Rebecca, has a solution that brings you face to face with Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King. As the connection between you and Ahkmenrah grows, and as the secrets of his ancient tablet unlock, the once-king will find himself faced with a difficult choice.

   Thanks so much to @kitkatcronch @kpopperotp12 and @seafrost-fangirl for reading : ) If anyone else wants added to the taglist, let me know. I’ve greatly appreciated all of the feedback!

   Warnings: A wee, mild reference to sex. Ahk is a solid 20 years of age to be certain to avoid any squick factor.

Déjà vu washed over you as you walked into Ahkmenrah’s exhibit, your sandals barely making a noise because of your cautious steps. That same sadness from the night you first met emanated from him. Or maybe it was loneliness? You scolded yourself for not even caring enough to ask, for allowing yourself to see only the papyruses, not the person who was kind enough to share them with you.

   You knew he sensed your presence and you took it as a good sign that he didn’t turn away or tell you to go. As you approached, you waged a mental war— ancient king or just a young man? Should you kneel in front of him or should you sit beside him like a friend? Would he even want you as a friend after your callousness?

   “I can hear you thinking from here. Speak your piece or leave,” Ahkmenrah said, his tone distant.

   “I came to apologize.”

   “Apology accepted. You may leave now.”

You huffed and plopped onto the cold, ornamental bench next to him, his petulance swinging your mental battle toward seeing him more as a man than a king. You turned your body toward him, but he remained facing forward, eyes still trained on the hieroglyphs.

   “You don’t even know what my apology is for.”

   He remained statuesque, so you continued, eyes searching his profile for any hint of reaction.

   “I’m sorry I took advantage of your kindness. For someone who thinks so much, I can sometimes forget to think about the things that actually matter. You—not just your papyruses—matter.”

   Ahkmenrah’s mouth twitched downward and his fingers tightened on the bench.

   “I understand if you want to stop working with me, but before I go, can I ask you one last question?”

   Ahkmenrah turned to face you, the intensity of his eyes nearly taking your breath away.

   “Are you sad, or are you lonely?”

   Whatever Ahkmenrah was expecting you to ask, it certainly wasn’t this. His eyes widened in surprise, and he opened his mouth to speak, then promptly shut it. His gaze fell to the floor and after what felt like a small eternity, he stated, “Both.”

   Your heart swelled with empathy, with an understanding that you had it all wrong. Fate didn’t bring you to a reanimated mummy to answer your doctoral prayers; fate brought you to someone who needed you, who craved your companionship, and that someone also happened to be royalty, to once have been the most important person in an entire nation. Now, he was practically a prisoner.

   “Your majesty,” you whispered.

   Ahkmenrah lifted his head and looked into your eyes again; whatever he saw there must have convinced him that you understood how you hurt him and that you would never, ever do it again.

   Your natural instinct was to reach up to cup his face, to comfort him.

   “Your majesty,” you spoke, stronger and more sure this time. “Can I touch you?”

   Ahkmenrah nodded.

   You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding as you reached up to cup his face. You gently slid your palm along his cheek, your thumb slowly stroking the soft skin of his high cheekbone. Ahk turned his body toward you and leaned his face into your touch and closed his eyes. You shifted closer to him on the bench and slid your hand from his cheek to the back of his neck and into his hair. You wrapped your other arm around his shoulders and pulled him as close as your position would allow. Your chests pressed tightly against one another’s and Ahkmenrah brought his hands to your waist, wrapping his arms around your lower back.

   You buried your fingers in the soft curls that adorned his head and clung to him, inhaling his scent, which ironically, reminded you of the papyrus.

   The bugle of Teddy’s voice as he called out the warning of the approaching dawn startled you both. You pulled apart and laughed together, shyly.

   “Do you really accept my apology?” you asked with concern.

   “Of course. To err is human, right?” Ahk replied with a small smile.

   You smiled and gestured toward yourself as you said, “There’s a whole lotta err wrapped up in this.”

   Ahkmenrah’s smile quickly faded to a frown as he said, “I must return to my sarcophagus, but I hope to see you again soon.”

   “I’ll be here when you wake up,” you stated, eyes searching his face.

   “I scarcely dare to hope that’s true.”

   “Don’t be so dramatic,” you said with a playful roll of your eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Ahk turned to his guards and spoke. They lifted the lid of the sarcophagus, and you noticed the lines of faint scratches that adorned the inside; it made your stomach fill with a grotesque horror at the thought of him being trapped inside that box, of being alone in the darkness, never knowing if he would escape, unable to even succumb to death.

   You watched as Ahkmenrah laid down into his ornate box with a practiced ease. He crossed his arms over his chest, his ancient mummy wrappings pushed to either side.

   With another order, the twin jackals moved to shut the lid. Ahkmenrah closed his eyes, his jaw tensing as the lid locked him inside. You slid your hand along the sarcophagus, stopping to place it over Ahkmenrah’s golden one.

   And then you felt it.

   It was as if Anubis himself had reached out to steal everything that dared to defy him by living. It took your own breath away, and for a moment, you thought, This is what it feels like to die. In an instant, you knew that Ahkmenrah was gone, nothing but a pile of ancient bones laid just beneath the lid.

   Larry spoke from the doorway, “It’s unnerving, isn’t it?”

   “You feel this every night?” you asked, your voice reflecting your discomfort.

   Larry only nodded before stating, “Come on. I’ll drop you at your place.”

   * * * * *

The drive to your apartment was quiet. Larry did ask if you fixed things with Ahkmenrah, and you said that yes, you thought so. You also thanked him for his advice.

   “Night, kiddo.”

   You practically crawled up the stairs, exhaustion taking a firm root in your limbs. You had exactly three hours to sleep before you needed to head into the university to meet with your supervising professor.

   As you kicked off your sandals, you realized that you left your notebook on the table in the kitchen display. You sent a quick text to Aunt Rebecca to make sure she found it before anyone else did. Your body refused to function any further and you fell asleep, facedown, still fully clothed, and cellphone in hand.

   * * * * *

Your fingers whirred, seemingly of their own accord, across your laptop as you typed up another source summary. You worked a decent number of hours per week to help offset the cost of your PhD, but you didn’t mind. You were selected by your favorite professor for the RA position, so it rarely even felt like work.

  “Hey, Y/N,” said a deep voice with a light accent from the doorway of the small lounge you were working in. It wasn’t a surprise to see Ryan; he knew you well enough to know every nook you’d hide away in to get your work done.

   “I heard you submitted the first draft of your proposal.”

   You looked up and smiled, “I did.”

   Ryan’s handsome face smirked as he replied, “I knew you’d finish before me. What happened to our pact?”

   You chuckled, remembering the night the two of you swore to be each other’s motivation. You were undergrads, both drunk on mid-shelf tequila and had ducked into Ryan’s dorm to escape the boisterous post-finals party hosted on your floor. The sealing of your pact began with a handshake and ended with the two of you in bed. Ryan left the next day to return to Australia for the summer. For the rest of your undergrad studies, this was the nature of your relationship with Ryan. Neither of you wanted a commitment; sometimes, friends with benefits could work if it happened at the right time with the right person.

   Ry had been given a grant through the Australian Anthropological Society to pursue his thesis on the effects of colonialization. Being an Australian and having observed the effects on the indigenous peoples of his home country, he wanted to focus on the “what if” side of indigenous cultures—what if people hadn’t conquered and taken not only the wealth of a land, but the dignity of its people? Ryan was an ideator, and you found that deeply attractive. He was content with asking questions and searching for answers that may never be found, whereas you needed to find an answer, no matter the labor or the cost. It was nice to spend time with someone who thought differently than you.  

   “Wanna celebrate tonight?”

   You took in his muscular arms, not at all hidden beneath his thin green shirt. You remembered the way they flexed under your touch, how solid and warm he felt when he was naked and pressing into you. You shifted in your seat; Ryan had excited you from the first time he opened his mouth during class to answer a question, and he could still excite you, even more easily now since you knew the pleasure he could give you.

   But Ahkmenrah’s face flashed into your mind, interrupting you, reminding you that you had made a promise.

   You gave Ryan a soft smile and said, “I’ve got plans. But maybe you should take that as a push to submit your draft?”

   Ryan chuckled and shook his head, “You’re a work-a-holic, babe.”

   “Do not even act like you aren’t cut from the same cloth.”

   Ryan raised his hands in a gesture of mock-defense.

   “You got me. Will you look over it before I submit?”

   You grinned, “I knew you weren’t far behind. Of course. Just text me, or well, you know where to find me.”

   “Catch ya later, babe.”

   You shook away the remnants of Ryan and re-centered your mind. Borrowing the words of the iconic Scarlett O’Hara, you told yourself that you’d think about it tomorrow, well, Ryan anyway. Egypt was always on your mind, even more so than usual with a certain promise you intended to honor.

   * * * * *

Armed with a cat nap, a fresh pair of leggings and a breezy, bright, summer top, you slung your backpack on and made your way to Ahk’s exhibit. Your earlier interaction with Ryan felt like a dream as you entered the museum; the museum was starting to feel more like your reality than an escape.

   “Hi, Lar, bye, Lar!” you called as you zipped past the front desk.

   As promised, you arrived in time to be there when Ahkmenrah awoke. As you waited for the sun to set, you carefully watched the room, wondering if you’d feel the opposite of what you felt last night. Suddenly, a flash of light emitted from the tablet, but to your chagrin, you felt nothing. It was as if life were more natural than death—now that was truly a concept worth some thought, but the jiggling of Ahkmenrah’s sarcophagus drew your attention.

   You rushed to pull the golden pins out that sealed the lid, wondering why Larry even bothered to put them back in every night. The rock slab that once held the coffin lid in place was destroyed the night Larry saved the museum, so it would be easy for Ahk to open the lid himself now.

   You’d barely pulled the last pin out before the lid flew off and clanged to the ground. Ahkmenrah sat bolt upright, looking wildly about, his crown jostling just the slightest. When his eyes found yours, he smiled as his breathing steadied. You imagined that if you listened hard enough, you’d be able to hear his heart hammering in his chest.

   “Hi,” you said, holding the coffin steady as he climbed out eagerly.

   “Hi,” Ahkmenrah replied, his smile exploding into a grin that made your heart skip a beat.

   “Is it terrible? Waking up like that every night?”

   “It is. I sometimes forget that I’m not going to remain trapped.”

   “Why doesn’t Larry leave the pins out so you’re not?”

   “We discussed that, but it is too risky. Everything must return to exactly as it was to avoid suspicion. Even the tiniest detail will not go unnoticed by a professional docent.”

   You sighed, “I’m sorry, Ahk.”

   “You have nothing to be sorry for—you’re here! Allow me a moment to fetch the papyruses.”

   The happiness in his voice spread to your very soul. How could you have been so stupid to ignore this sweet person for a pile of scrolls?

   “Wait—I thought we could do something different tonight.”

   “Oh?” he said as he stopped and turn back to face you.

   “Yeah. I thought we could just, hang out. Talk. Get to know each other.”

   Ahkmenrah smiled again. Damn. If he didn’t stop that, he would own your heart by midnight.

   “Shall we head to the kitchens?” Ahk asked, turning in that direction.

   “Let’s leave the kitchens as our designated research area. It’s important to separate work from play,” you explained.

   Ahk tilted his head and thought about what you said.

   “That’s the most Egyptian thing I think I’ve ever heard you say. Americans, well, the English, too, are so . . .”

   “Boring?”

   Ahkmenrah laughed. “No! Of course not. It’s just that we understood life to be a gift. We worked hard, but we knew how to relax and to enjoy being with those we cared for.”

   You thought for a minute before saying, “The Cult of Hathor was in full prominence during your time, right?”

   “Hathor, yes! As king, I had a temple erected in her honor and declared five days of celebration for the, um. . .” Ahkmenrah struggled to translate what he would have called the celebration.

   “Well, we refer to it as The Five Gifts of Hathor—I wrote a paper on the rituals of the field workers and how they celebrated gratitude by listing the five things they were most grateful for in their lives. I remember finding it fascinating that ingratitude was considered to be the sin that led to other sins. But I’ll be damned if that doesn’t make a lot of sense, especially in today’s society.”

   Ahkmenrah nodded as you spoke, excitement glittering in his eyes.

   “Yes, that is an apt translation. I lived a good life, Y/N, and I tried to be a good king by making sure my people had time to appreciate their gift of life, too. I was lucky to rule during a time of great prosperity and peace. If I had lived longer, perhaps things would have been different.”

   There was that sadness again. You couldn’t imagine what it was like to be stuck in a world that was so, so far from your own.

   “Don’t do that to yourself. You were a good king, and it wasn’t your fault that your time was cut short.”

   Life meant so much more to the ancient Egyptians; they had a zest for it, a true passion. Today, you were lucky to make it through half an episode of a tv show before turning it off, tired of being surrounded by dark cynicism. When did it become the trend to hate everything?

   And that love for life was the point of mummification—Ahkmenrah’s people worked tirelessly to extend life, to bridge that gap between life and death so they could carry on with their earthly joys.

   “Come on,” you said as you linked your arm with his. “Let’s go talk some more.”

   Ahkmenrah tilted his chin down slightly to look into your eyes; the two of you were close in height, but even in his thin sandals, he was still a few inches taller than you, which sparked a question you had been burning to ask.

   “What do you think of pants?”

   Ahkmenrah’s eyebrows shot up and he questioned, “Pants? Like what Larry wears? Gods, no. The idea of them seems so . . . constraining.”

   You laughed and leaned in closer to him as you directed him toward the large screen theater on the first floor. The museum was showing a movie on ocean life, so you told Ahkmenrah to head in and pick a seat while you sorted out how to start the movie in the projection room. You had worked part-time in high school at a movie theater, and it was nice you could put that knowledge to good use.

   After starting the film, lowering the lights, and setting the volume at a reasonable level, you exited the booth into the theater and looked for Ahk’s silhouette. He was sitting in what appeared to be the exact middle of the room in the exact middle of the row.

   “Good choice,” you said taking a seat next to him and putting your feet up on the seat in front of you.

   Ahk smiled in acknowledgement of your comment as his eyes flicked to your face before returning to the screen.

  The movie was bright enough that you were able to clearly see each other, but it was still a large theater. It was dark around you and created an inviting, relaxed atmosphere. The soothing voice of the narrator added to your sense of restfulness, as did the closeness of the person sitting next to you, rigidly proper, hands clasped in his lap.

   His eyes were trained on the fish as they moved in a perfect school through the water, but as soon as you spoke again, he turned his head to listen.

   “So, fifteen minutes ago we were talking about enjoying life, relaxing. Are you relaxed?”

   Ahkmenrah furrowed his brows, “Do I not look to be relaxed?”

   “Take off the crown? Maybe your collar? That thing has to be heavy . . . and itchy.”

   “Would you like to try them on?”

   You huffed out a tiny laugh, “That wasn’t my point, but I’m not going to pass up an opportunity to wear the crown of Lower Egypt.”

   Luckily, you had worn your hair in a braid, so when Ahkmenrah sat up and removed his crown to place it on your head, it fit. It was actually much snugger than you thought it would be.

   “Is my head that big?” you asked with a little bit of horror.

   Ahkmenrah laughed and said, “It’s supposed to be quite tight. You can’t have it just falling off while going about your day. That would be a bad omen.”

   He reached behind his neck and untied his Wesekh. You quickly took in the newly exposed expanse of his toned chest, his skin looking even more dark and flawless because of the flickering lights from the film.

   If Ahkmenrah noticed your staring, he was too polite to say anything. He held out the Wesekh to catch your attention and you turned around so he could place it over your crowned head and fasten it.

   “Oh—” Ahkmenrah said as the Wesekh slipped and he nearly grabbed a handful of your chest as he reached to catch it.

   Your shoulders shook with laughter as he apologized, but your laughter died quickly as you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck as he tied the collar. You wanted to lean into his touch; you wanted more.

   “There,” Ahkmenrah stated.

   You turned to face him, feeling utterly ridiculous.

   “Judging from your wicked grin, I look as ridiculous as I feel.”

   “You could never look ridiculous, Y/N. You’re beautiful.”

   Ahkmenrah stated his declaration of your beauty as easily as if he were reading the weather for the day. You, however, nearly swallowed your tongue. No compliment had ever sounded sweeter.

   You laughed, nervously, and thanked him for the ego boost.

   “This is itchy. And very heavy.”

   Ahkmenrah smiled and reached out to remove his crown, pulling a little to get it to come off. You knew your hair was now scattering to the four corners of the earth and reached up to smooth it out. Ahkmenrah reached out and tucked one stray strand behind your ear, his fingers lingering lightly just behind your ear.

   You turned again for him to remove his collar. You took both things from him and tucked them into the folded seat next to you.

   You turned back and asked Ahk what he would like to wear again if he could.

   “Well, it’s terribly cold here. Our most comfortable clothes were so light. But I do recall that for the summer months, I had the most exquisite, I think you’d call it a shift? maybe a dress? that was so soft it always felt cool, like the air itself, and it was dyed a dark blue and woven with a gold thread so that it shimmered when you moved.”

   The clenching of your thighs was almost involuntary as the image of Ahkmenrah in a probably sheer, certainly gorgeous nightgown filled your mind. No wonder people believed the pharaohs were descended from the gods if even half of them looked like Ahk.

   “Before I was king, I usually didn’t wear anything to bed, though. When it was cold, we had thick blankets to keep us warm, and the palace always had a fire burning on those nights.”

   Jesus. He was clearly trying to kill you.

   However, as a professional researcher, you asked, “Why did you start wearing clothes to bed once you were king?”

   “In the event of an emergency, it would be faster to dress and to look regal if you didn’t start from nothing.”

   “Oh, the wretched price one pays for royalty,” you said through a smile.

   Ahkmenrah chuckled, “You asked, and I swear to only ever speak the truth to you.”

   The rest of the night progressed in a similar manner. You and Ahkmenrah talked for hours about things old and new, and every time the movie ended, you went upstairs to start it again; it felt necessary, like if you could keep the atmosphere the same, then maybe the night would never end.

   By the time you looped the movie around for the fifth time, you were both talked out. When you returned to your seat, Ahk greeted you with another smile that made you school-girl weak. This time, instead of starting another conversation, you slid your arm under Ahk’s and tucked into his side. You rested your head on his shoulder and reached out along his arm to take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.

   Ahkmenrah held very still until you were settled, then he relaxed into you, resting his head against yours. It felt good; it felt natural, and it occurred to you that you were entering a very dangerous territory. You couldn’t fall for him because you couldn’t have a relationship. You lived in a daylight driven world; there would only be so many times when you could miss going to school without risking the loss of your doctoral candidacy, and your work was your life. It was your dream, your passion.

   But maybe you could let yourself have this moment? Soon after snuggling into Ahkmenrah and imagining that he was just a normal guy with a normal life, you drifted off to sleep. When Ahkmenrah felt the shift of your mind and body closing itself off from consciousness, he tightened his grip on your hand and placed the softest kiss on the top of your head.

   He knew he couldn’t have you; it wasn’t right. But, gods, how he wanted you.