#i fucked up my legs at a concert last Friday so my body has been sapped of energy trying to heal my poor calves

[cupophrogs]

I was listening to Djo and uh

Marionette Poppet upon thee

Some alt versions I liked and one without filters :]

[maade-of-stardust]

Hey Val!!! Its frisay! Its friday!! *feeling excited*

It is Friday, indeed! And since the chapter isn’t ready, yet (I think it will come out on Sunday), here is a snippet for you! 

Sander had decided to leave as soon as Robbe was surrounded by his friends. Surely, the boy would have been safer among them, and they knew him well enough to know what to do in case he needed anything. Thus, Sander’s presence was no longer requested. He had carried out his task and could go back to his place. But after all, he told himself, it was better that way. He was feeling deeply sad after hearing what had happened to Robbe's mom, and he needed time alone to process the news. As he reached his room, Sander remembered that he had to talk to Noor. Though his first instinct was to postpone again, he thought he might as well face another issue that same evening, so he backed off and went to knock on the girl's door.

The conversation was honest, although, for obvious reasons he chose not to go into details, but he told her about his past with Robbe, their years apart, and the way he was feeling since he started to work for the band. Noor was very understanding and they decided to stay friends, without benefits this time. They had smoked a cigarette together and after that, Sander finally went back to his room.

He took a hot shower, hoping it would wash away all the tiredness, sadness, and desire to disappear he was feeling in his body. It seemed like that day had lasted two months. Starting with the fight the evening before, the sleepless night, the trip with Lucas and Jens, and then the insane run in the park to find Robbe. It had been an eventful 24 hours.

The worst part, though, was probably realizing that everything he had relied on for the past four years was just a big, fat, pile of bullshits, he told to be at peace with himself. He hadn't saved Robbe from a life of pain, he hadn't freed him from carrying Sander's burden. He had simply turned his back on Robbe. Sander had left him alone to face all the sufferings in his life.

Now, he didn't even know how he could explain to the other, the reason behind his gesture, without being laughed at. His illness seemed nothing compared to what Robbe had to go through completely alone.

Probably the best thing to do was to simply make amends, without hoping for forgiveness. In light of the facts, his explanation had become ridiculous, useless, but he owed it to Robbe. He wanted to finally be honest.

Sander wore a lilac hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants and went to bed with his computer on his lap, editing the photos he had taken in the previous days. It was something that helped him stay present, having to concentrate kept his mind from wandering.

It was almost midnight when he heard a knock on his room door, and for a few seconds, he was tempted not to open it, pretending to be asleep, but in the end, curiosity prevailed.

He moved the computer from his legs, leaving it on the bed, and went to the door, finding himself face to face with Robbe.

Sander felt his heart skip a beat. The boy had his hair down over his shoulders, and he was wearing a sage-colored sweatshirt and pants. His face was pale, tired, with dark circles under his doe eyes, but they were still beautiful.

"Robbe?" He exclaimed, sounding more surprised than he intended.

"Stop leaving me behind without a fucking word, okay?" He said, with a stern face, looking the other into his eyes, but then gave him a small smile.

Sander stepped aside, inviting him in, and closed the door. He didn't know why he was letting him in his room, but somehow, that night, after what had happened, he didn’t want to let Robbe go again. He needed his presence there.

"Sorry, I thought there were already too many people around."

"Yeah, but I wanted them to leave, not you."

Oh.

Robbe stood in front of him, biting his lower lip. He was so different from anything Sander had seen in the previous weeks, even different from what he'd seen in the car a few hours before, and it was confusing. Sander wondered how many Robbes were still to be discovered. But this version made him feel at ease. There was something genuine and familiar in him.

"Can I stay here with you tonight?" He asked, blinking his long lashes, pausing for a few seconds to rephrase his request, reading the surprise on Sander's face. "I'm not talking about sex. We can have a pajama party, but like, for adults."

Sander frowned, "It sounds a lot like sex." he said, smiling.

"Come on." He pushed his lower lip out, as an incentive to make the other agree.

"Let's have this pajama party for adults, then." Sander conceded, running his fingers through the boy’s hair. He couldn’t explain it, but ever since they had been forced by circumstances to stay physically close in the car, it was like that invisible barrier, that was keeping them apart, had disappeared, and now every gesture was natural.

Robbe was playing with the lilac strings of Sander's hoodie, twisting it around his fingers. "But on one condition. We can’t talk about our past. Only about present and future."

"Deal." Sander nodded, turning away and walking back to bed, to resume what he was doing. He slipped under the covers and took his laptop again, pretending not to observe every slightest movement of the other, who meanwhile looked around, carefully studying all of Sander’s belongings scattered around the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Editing."

Robbe had nonchalantly approached the bed, trying to look at the screen. "Can I?" He asked, pointing his index finger at the bed where Sander was sitting.

"Yes, come here." He replied, lifting the covers. Robbe immediately snuggled up beside him. They remained silent, while Sander kept editing, trying not to smile too much, and Robbe watched him work. That closeness was amazing. It felt right and Sander wished to stay like that forever.

"I like this one so much. You made me look so good."

"Are you fishing for compliments? Aren't you tired of people telling you how beautiful you are?"

Sander looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and Robbe rolled his eyes, without trying to hide his smile.

"Do you like your job?"

"I do, most of the time. You?"

Robbe sighed, pausing for a long time before answering. "It doesn’t make me feel as happy as it used to, but it’s the only thing I’m good at."

"First of all, I hardly believe it." Sander closed his laptop, placing it on the bedside table, and turned to face the other, giving him his full attention, exactly as he would have done once, during their endless conversations. "Secondly, Robbe, you're just 20. Your life has not even started yet. You can go to college and study whatever you like if you want. I know you probably feel so much older, but you're not."

Robbe slid onto the bed, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. "I just wanna a happy, quiet life." He admitted. He didn't know what he would do without the band, the tour, and the concerts, but at the prospect of being happy, really happy, he could have given up his adrenaline addiction. "No strict schedule, no paparazzi, interviews, or people following me around everywhere."

Sander lay down on his side, supporting his head with one arm. "I bet you already made enough money to retire. You can do everything you want, seriously."

Robbe turned his face to look the other in his eyes. "Not everything." He whispered, shifting his gaze to Sander's lips. "I can't kiss you."

Sander smiled, drawing his face closer and closer. "Do it." He whispered when their lips were close enough to touch.

Robbe placed his hands on Sander's face and closed the distance that separated them, feeling as excited as when they had exchanged their first kiss. Both couldn’t stop smiling, and it was a very uncoordinated kiss at first, but then the feelings they felt for each other took over, reminding them that what they had wanted for so long, was happening.

It was sweet, familiar, healing. Their souls were quieter after that, and when they parted, they both had an incredulous smile on their faces.

"Now your boyfriend will get so mad."

"He's not my boyfriend, and what about Noor?"

"Noor's not my boyfriend either."

Robbe rolled his eyes for the thousandth time during that night, feeling the affection for the other grow a little more each time. "I know you probably think you're funny, but believe me, it's quite the opposite."

"Look at you, being so mean, and so proud of it!" Sander pulled the boy back, placing another kiss on his lips. "But seriously, there’s nothing between Noor and me. Besides, I’ll pretend you haven’t just admitted you asked around about me and her."

Robbe punched Sander's shoulder, snorting. "I saw you, idiot! You're not that subtle!"

"Ouch! So rude." He said while the other kissed him again to be forgiven.

They kept going like that, laughing, kissing, and talking until they collapsed tightly into each other's arms, lulled by an inner peace that both hadn't felt for a long time.

[rhysismydaddy]

The Bodyguard Pt. 2 (Elorcan)

I didn’t really edit the ending of this whoops. 

Part 1 | Part 3

______________________________________________________________

Elide turned over in bed for what had to be the hundredth time, practically strangling herself in her bed sheets. The idea was more than a little tempting at this point. 

She glared at the ceiling for a moment, then sat up with a yell. “Get out!”

A deep, unaffected sigh graced her ears. “Go to sleep, Elide.”

Lorcan Salvaterre, her supposed-bodyguard-but-more-like-pain-in-the-ass, was sitting in a chair in the corner, long limbs sprawled in front of him, head resting against the wall of her room. 

Her bedroom. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she had a man in her bedroom, intent on staying the night. Oh, wait, yes she could. 

Fucking never. 

“I’m trying,” she spat back, exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. “I can’t sleep with you in here, mouth breathing all over the place.”

That was such a lie she almost laughed. His even, deep breaths were the last thing keeping her awake. 

He peered an eye open at her. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I don’t know. “Just sit outside the door or something.”

Lorcan closed his dark eyes again. “The picture was taken from inside the room. I will stay inside the room.”

She groaned, and the corner of his lip quirked up. 

“Would you feel more comfortable if I were in the bed with you?”

His eyes were still closed, but she pressed her palms over her cheeks to hide the blush anyway. “No, of course not.”

“That’s what I thought, so shut up and go to sleep.”

She was about to tell him what she’d do to him if he ever told her to shut up again when a loud bang sounded against the wall. Elide sat up, curious about what the hell had hit the side of the building hard enough to cause such a loud sou-

The glass window exploded before she could find out, a thousand razor sharp shards shooting across her room. But she wasn’t exactly concerned about that. 

No, because faster than she could even track, Lorcan had thrown himself across her room, tackled her back down to the bed, and covered her body with his. 

He was on top of her, legs covering hers, strong chest pressed against her, arms cradling her head. 

She knew this was the last thing she should be thinking about while someone was trying to kill her, but good Lord the man was tall. And built like a freaking slab of concrete. His deliciously heavy weight was pressing her down against the mattress, allowing her to feel every inch of his body against hers. 

“Don’t move.”

Move? She could hardly breathe. “I can’t, you heavy son of a bit-”

“Don’t speak, either.”

Repressing a smile, she did as she was told.

Eventually, when he’d deemed it safe enough, he rolled off of her. “Stay on the bed.”

Holy sweet- he should not say things like that.

She stayed still. 

He searched the room, then picked something up and held it out to her. It was a brick, and a note was attached. 

Elide,

October, 2016. 

Elide read it again and again, praying the words would change but knowing they wouldn’t. 

“What happened in October of 2016?” Lorcan asked, peering over her shoulder. 

Ignoring him entirely, she shot out of bed and sprinted to her bathroom, barely making it before emptying her guts into the toilet. 

Once she was done, she just flushed and leaned against the tub, not having the energy to get up. He leaned in the bathroom’s doorway, unperturbed. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s not important.”

He narrowed his eyes, making him look a little like a predator about to swoop in for the kill. “Tell me.” 

She shook her head. Lorcan pinched the bridge of his nose, then suddenly slid down the door frame to sit across from her. “No judgments. I promise. But I need to know what he’s talking about so I can protect you from it.”

A harsh laugh forced its way out of her at that. The man across from her just tilted his head and waited, his face uncharacteristically lacking its scowl. 

“In October of 2016, I ran away.”

Lorcan nodded, so she continued. “It was really stupid, honestly. I didn’t have money or clothes or food, and I could hardly walk because of... I was hurt. Somehow, I managed to make it to the docks across town.”

“I thought I made it,” she scoffed, remembering how stupid she’d been. “I thought I was safe. Especially when one of the fisherman’s wives brought me food. But Vernon has everyone in that town on lock down. I never made it onto the boat.”

Elide had to clear her throat before saying the next part. “When he caught me and brought me back, he locked me up. In the basement, in the dark. The only time I’d see a light was when he opened the door to come down and punish me for being so foolish.”

“How long?” Lorcan asked, his voice holding a shocking amount of rage.

Wiping her face clean of tears, she smiled sadly and said, “Six months.”

His jaw was clenched so tight she worried he’d break a tooth. 

“That was for when I ran away for less than a day. I’ve been gone for almost two years now. So if he catches me...” Steel made it’s way into her voice. “I’ll kill myself before I let him bring me back to that place.”

Lorcan’s eyes blazed at that statement. “That’s not going to happen. He’s not going to get to you.”

“He can get to me anywhere.” That was beyond true at this point. 

“Not anywhere,” he growled, scooping her into his arms and standing up like she weighed nothing. He sounded a little pissed, a little remorseful. 

“Um, what are you doing?” When he walked out into the hallway and slammed the door behind them, she amended her question. “Where are we going?”

He seemed to resent even saying the words, but replied, “My apartment.”

~

About thirty minutes later, she sat across from Lorcan in his living room, holding a cup of hot water.

She’d asked if he had tea and he’d given her the most affronted look and asked, “Why the hell would I drink dirty water?”

Men. 

“Why are we here?”

He sighed. “We’re here because you’re not safe at your place.”

Elide glanced around. “And I’m safe here?” I mean, sure, it looked a bit safer, considering there were four deadbolts on the door, but that didn’t mean much. 

“Believe me, it’s safe.” She raised an eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. “I have bulletproof windows, the door’s made of steel, and no one’s allowed in the complex without a security code. Compared to your place, this is Fort Knox.”

“Oh.”

He nodded. 

“Um, thank you, I guess.”

Lorcan cringed, clearly unused to having visitors. “You can have the guest bedroom.” 

Taking his more than obvious hint, she walked down the hall and into the room. Like the rest of the place, it was painfully in need of a woman’s touch. Gray walls, black furniture, and a bed covered in a white comforter. 

No art, no color, no anything. 

The windows overlooked the city, but she took him at his word that they were bulletproof. She still yanked the curtains closed before flopping down on the bed. 

And even though she felt completely awake, it wasn’t long before she drifted off to sleep. 

~

Something nudged her shoulder, and she swatted whatever it was away. 

It dodged and bumped her again. 

Elide ignored it. Something important was flaring at the back of her mind, but she was too tired, too comfortable to do anything but nuzzle further into the pillow. 

A gravelly voice interrupted her goal of falling back asleep. “You’re drooling on my pillow.”

She could recognize that ever-annoyed growl anywhere. 

Peeking an eye open, she practically jumped out of her skin. Lorcan stood next to her, towering over the bed, wearing low-hanging sweatpants and no shirt. He sipped his coffee and cocked a brow at her, seemingly unaware of the fact that her position hanging off the bed put her face directly in front of his crotch. 

Blushing like crazy, she turned over and sat up, making sure her sleep shirt and shorts was covering everything. 

“It’s seven thirty,” he informed her helpfully. 

Elide tried to ignore the fact that he was shirtless when he said it, but her brain didn’t listen to the order. Well-defined muscles she was pretty sure she didn’t even possess covered every inch of him, and it was all she could do to stop herself from reaching out and poking one. 

“You’re drooling again,” he teased, making her blush. 

She jumped out of bed, rushing to... oh, shit. “I don’t have any of my clothes! I don’t even have my toothbrush!”

Before she could start pacing, he nodded to the floor. A black duffel bag was below her, and when she glanced inside, she saw a pair of jeans and a grey turtleneck. And a toothbrush. 

“When did you grab this?”

He certainly hadn’t packed a bag before carrying her out last night. 

“I went this morning. Not all of us sleep in.”

She would’ve pointed out that anything before noon was the opposite of sleeping in, but she had to get to work. “Okay, thank you, now get out!” She pushed his shoulder, but he just shrugged her off, rolled his eyes, and walked out of the room. 

So stubborn this morning.

Once she was ready, she stepped out and asked, “Ready for another day of therapy, Mr. Salvaterre? Maybe we can finally get you to open up and talk about your childhood.”

He just glowered and jerked his chin for her to follow him. 

It was only her first day of staying at Lorcan’s place, but she could already tell he was regretting his decision to take her in.

~

By the time Friday rolled around, she and her new roomie had developed a pretty easy schedule to follow. But even without the stress of being kidnapped in her own home, it had been a long week. 

She was beyond ready for the concert tonight. 

“This is reckless,” Lorcan pointed out from his position leaning against the bathroom door. 

Elide finished her mascara before replying. “It’s not reckless to have a life. What was the point escaping if I lock myself in my apartment all day, anyway?”

He glowered, but she noticed his eyes followed her movements as she drew on her lipstick. Repressing a smug grin, she took more care than usual, making sure it was just right. 

When she was done, he got back to his point. “You have a life. A... career.”

A few days ago, she would’ve been annoyed at the resentment in his voice, but she’d gotten used to the idea that therapy wasn’t his thing. “Yes, but I need a social life. You know what that is, right?”

“I have acquaintances.”

She peered over her shoulder, eyes raking over his tall frame dressed in head to toe black. “No girlfriend?”

His eyes narrowed, just a fraction. “No girlfriend.”

That made a horde of butterflies parade through her gut, but she ignored them.

“Makes sense why this place has zero decorations, then,” she teased. 

Lorcan looked at the ceiling, and she had a feeling he was praying for sanity. “I have a rug. This discussion is pointless, just like the concert. Let’s go.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was ready anyway, so she followed him downstairs. After a tense taxi ride--during which Lorcan glared at the driver so intensely he practically flew down the crowded streets--they were at MSK, a usually quiet bar on the opposite side of the city. 

Lorcan eyed the place like it would be home to the toughest criminals alive, but she’d been here enough to see that the harsh exterior didn’t really matter. 

Pulling him inside, she walked up to the bar and winked at the woman behind it. 

Manon Blackbeak, the most insanely badass woman she knew and her absolute best friend, gave her a smile. Then glanced at the man next to her. 

“Boyfriend,” she explained quickly before the man himself could say something stupid like the truth. 

Said man glanced down at her and raised a brow, but she ignored it. 

“Hm. You could do better,” Manon told her. 

Elide ignored that, too. “You excited for tonight?”

MSK was her bar, so the concerts were a good way of bringing in revenue without having to do much. Plus, Asterin and her had been friends since they were toddlers, so they worked well together. 

Manon shrugged. “I hate the new album, but the bar will make some money, so whatever. Want a drink?”

She could feel Lorcan’s eyes on her now. It had been his one big stipulation for “allowing” her to come: no drinking. 

She shook her head, thankful the band started playing something loud and obnoxious so she didn’t have to explain. Asterin made her way on stage, and the crowd went crazy. 

“This is the kind of music you like?” Lorcan leaned down to ask in her ear. “Metal?”

She laughed at the almost comical look of disgust on his face. “No. I just love Asterin enough to put up with it.”

After four songs, even Elide was doubting that statement. A look at Manon confirmed it. The album was worse than usual. “How much longer?” 

Her best friend put her head on the bar and groaned. “God, I hope not long.”

She laughed, then glanced at Lorcan. He was sitting at the bar, glaring at anyone who tried to come close to her. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she yelled. 

He gestured for her to lead the way, and she rolled her eyes but walked down the dark hallway to the ladies room. She opened the door, glanced back at Lorcan, and shut the door between them before he could insist on coming in. 

Absolutely ridiculous. 

Even if his attention made her feel safe. 

Ridiculous. 

She washed up and used the bathroom, trying fruitlessly to fix her ruined makeup. Eventually, she figured the eyeliner was staying smudged and the lipstick was pretty much a lost cause, so she decided to just go back to the concert. 

When she opened the door, Lorcan wasn’t waiting outside in the dim hallway like she expected. Maybe he went to the bathroom, too? Or maybe he had to take a call?

Both seemingly good options, but the little voice that had kept her alive this far screamed at her that something was wrong. Her fight or flight instinct activated, and like the other times that voice had saved her, she listened. 

And bolted for the back door of the bar. 

She’d get outside, make sure she was alone, and call Lorcan. Nothing was wrong. 

The back door swung open, revealing two things and she stepped outside, relieved to see the alley empty. 

That relief vanished as harsh hands wrapped around her shoulders and pushed her against the side of the building roughly. 

Elide looked up frantically, her inner voice screeching warnings and now-helpless advice as she stared into the face of her uncle Vernon. 

“Hello, Elide.”

______________________________________________________________

Part 3

@cursebreaker29 @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @ladywitchling @sjmships @superspiritfestival @stardella @keshavomit @illyrianwitchling13 @lord-douglas-the-third @blackjacks-donuts @hufflebird89 @sensitiveillyrian @towhateverend17 @empress-ofbloodshed @dottieadot @idontlikekale @se-ono-waise-ilia @tswaney17

[orbitluke]

Birdie - Robin Buckley

Birdie – R.B

Robin Buckley x Reader

A/N: I haven’t written in so long, so apologies for any grammatical errors. I appreciate any feedback and I hope you enjoy :)

Word Count: 2688

Warnings: Angst? 

Summary: Robin has been too scared to let her feelings for the Reader be known and she’s terrified she might have left it too late.

Italics indicate a flashback.

 _________

Robin had sprawled out along the couch in the backroom of home video, making herself comfy as she watched you idly from across the room. You were sat with your back to her, legs crossed on the small chair, surrounded by a bunch of sheets. She watched with curiosity, as you shuffle a few documents, eyes drifting along each paper thoroughly to make sure everything you had written made sense. She couldn’t help her lips quirk up as you let out a frustrated sigh before picking up your pencil, taking the opposite end and dragging it roughly across the page, so you could amend your mistake. She noticed how the flimsy table you were stationed at shook slightly due to your movements, bits of rubber flying off the sides. Your lips were pressed in a fine line and brows furrowed in confusion as you read over the last few lines once more. Robin could see your shoulders visibly relaxing as you placed your pencil beside the various sheets of paper in a moment of relief as you finally finished.

It seemed Keith had given you the task to reorganise next month’s work schedule, to which you insisted you definitely weren’t certified to do so, however, he claimed it didn’t matter as long he had something decent by Monday, persisting he would do it but, he had to leave for a ‘family emergency’ and would have no time over the weekend to do so. He left with the promise he’d let you have next Friday off if you stayed behind to get it done. Robin scoffed at this, insisting that this ‘emergency’ probably entailed Keith and the pile of movies she saw him check out earlier. However, since he was technically store manager you couldn’t really dispute the matter.

“I can’t believe Keith is making you do that shit,” Robin spoke, alerting you she was no longer napping after the 12-hour shift she had just done. Typically she wouldn’t be so affected by it, but she had informed you earlier, that last night she and some pretty girl went to a concert somewhere near Illinois, resulting in her getting home at 7 AM, a mere 2 hours before her shift started.

She sat up straight, twisting her body either side trying to get rid of the kinks that had formed in her lower back. She glanced at the clock, realising it was now 9:56 PM and her shift had ended a little over an hour ago. She could’ve easily gone home straight after her shift, but felt bad that Keith had left you to lock up and sort out the schedule, therefore, decided she would keep you company whilst you finished up, however, as soon as her body hit the couch she could feel sleep consuming her.

“Hey birdie, enjoy your nap?” You asked, twisting your body to face her, your arm hanging lazily over the top of the chair.

Robin’s heart soared at the use of the nickname you had given her a while back after the two of you got far too drunk at Tammy Thompson’s house party and ended up pressed against each other in Tammy’s bath, legs dangling over the sides as you drunkenly laughed and reminisced over your friendship together.

**

“I still can’t believe you punched Joshua McKenna in the nose in 4th grade for saying my Wonder Woman T-shirt sucked.” You laughed, letting out a little snort, as your head lay against Robin’s shoulder.

Robin’s heart was pounding at your close proximity. She could feel every movement you made, the way your shoulders shook as you laughed and she could swear she felt you move closer to her, your left hand coming up from your side and interlocking with hers.

“McKenna was a dick. Still is,” She remarked, “And his taste in superheroes? Whack!” Robin exclaimed, gesturing wildly with her right hand, forgetting that your hands were interlaced, therefore, causing your whole body to move with her, and heat rise to her face in embarrassment.

“Sorry.” She murmured, moving her hand away from yours and into her lap. She glanced at you for a small second, admiring the way your eyes gleamed even in the dull lighting of the bathroom. She noticed you now had the side of your head pressed against the cool tile wall, staring at her with a glazed look in your eyes.

You were both still extremely drunk.

“What for birdie?” You whispered, leaning forward until your foreheads were pressed together. Robin felt like she was about to combust, her heart moments, if not seconds away from exploding. You let a melodious laugh, your eyes flickering between Robin’s eyes and lips.

This had to be the alcohol speaking, Robin thought, too terrified to think what this meant if it wasn’t.

Slowly, Robin leaned in, a breath away from your lips. Her eyes closed, trying to take this all in, however, a moment of clarity made her reconsider.

“Birdie?” Robin questioned, moving back, letting out an awkward laugh and shaking her head slightly at your remark in an attempt to ease whatever tension seemed to have built-up between the two of you. Robin looked back at you and she could swear she saw hurt flash across your face, but as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.

“Yeah, Birdie!” You laughed lightly, scrunching your face in embarrassment, too afraid to meet her gaze. “Robin is a type bird, therefore, you are my little birdie.” You smiled softly, finally looking up at her.

Before Robin had the chance to even process what had happened, loud banging filled the small room, accompanied by someone asking if the bathroom was vacant.

Almost relieved by the presence of someone else, you yelled back that you’d be just a moment, before clumsily pushing yourself out of the tub and gesturing for her to take your hand so she could also get up.

Robin walked in front of you, letting go of your hand. Your heart faltering at the lack of touch. Robin opened the bathroom door to reveal none other than Joshua McKenna causing the two of you to let out a bright laugh and stumble out of the room, leaving the boy confused, but Robin was somewhat relieved that you were able to leave behind whatever tension had come between the two.

 **

“I’m not even going to be here next month, so I’m literally writing myself out of the schedule.” You groaned, snapping Robin out of her thoughts, as you scoot your chair around to face her. She was finally sitting up straight, hugging her knees to her chest with her head propped between them, hair a little unruly from her nap.

Her heart dropped a little as you brought up the fact you were leaving. Soon to be a freshman in college, meeting new people, whilst she had yet another year of High School left before she had a taste of freedom.

“I gave Keith the late Wednesday shift, so you no longer have to deal with Mrs Jameson.” You mused, remembering how Robin was laid on your bed one weekend, ranting about this older woman who seemed to come in every Wednesday just before closing. She would rent the same movie, but not before gossiping about her sister’s promiscuity and because Robin was far too polite to dismiss her, this caused Robin to lock up long after her shift was supposed to end.

 **

“Perhaps she has a thing for you.” You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows. “I mean Steve said she came in asking for you last week. Seemed that she only wanted to you to ring her up.” You continued, causing Robin to press her face into your pillow and let out a disgusted groan.

“She’s old enough to be my mother.” Robin shrieked, however, you couldn’t help notice the blush that stained her cheeks.

“Never stopped anyone before.” You quipped, moving from your spot on the floor where you were busy folding laundry and flopped down beside Robin. “I mean I’m pretty sure Billy has a thing for Mrs Wheeler.”

“Yeah but that’s Mrs Wheeler,” Robin laughed, lifting her face from your pillow. You looked at her in shock.

“What? She’s hot.” Robin defended, rolling on to her side so she could look at you properly. “Like really hot.”

“Not as hot as me though, right?” You half-joked, a part of you a little jealous at Robin’s revelation regarding Mrs Wheeler’s hotness, but nevertheless quickly changing the conversation by announcing that you needed to shower, so she could happily help herself to your Walkman or your selection of comics that laid on your bedside table. But as soon as you got up from your bed and made your way into your bathroom, Robin whispered to herself, “Defiantly not.” with a smile tainting her lips as she was undoubtedly infatuated by you. 

**

You realised Robin wasn’t paying attention, instead, she seemed to be in a world of her own, whilst picking at her nails, a habit that formed whenever she became nervous.

“Hey birdie, you good?” You questioned, your eyes softening as she met your gaze.

“I’m going to miss you.” Her voice faltering as an overwhelming feeling of sadness consumed her, causing her eyes to become shadowy with unshed tears.

“What do you mean B?” You inquired, placing your hand on her knee as a form of comfort, however, the mere touch of your hand seemed to heat her whole body, awakening something inside of her.

“Fuck.” Robin shifted in her seat, now sitting with her legs crossed, but your hand remained still.

“You’re going away to college and leaving me.” She half smiled, wiping the palm of her hand under her eyes in an attempt to stop any tears from falling. She clasped her other hand around yours loosely, mindlessly playing with your fingertips.

“You still have Steve.” You responded, hoping to lighten the mood. Robin rolled her eyes, trying to feign amusement, but you knew deep down she felt just as deflated as you did.

The idea of leaving Robin was gut-wrenching. Not being able to see her every day was a foreign concept to you. She was an integral part of your life, often coming over late at night, shimming up the tree adjacent from your bedroom window just so you had someone to help lull you to sleep and bring you comfort when things weren’t going well, but now you were going to University a few states away and this would no longer be possible. You would no longer see her face every day as you walked into Home Video with two coffee’s clasp in your hand to help get you both through the early morning shifts. Her sarcastic jokes and quarrels with Steve would now just be a memory.

“What about that about the girl you went to the concert with,” You continued, your words becoming weak with every breath. “Angelia was it? She seems nice.”

Lies. You could feel bile rising in your throat at the thought of Robin with another girl. When she first told you about her, you responded politely, trying not to show your lack of delight for this unknown girl, but when she told you that she was technically the reason for her lack of sleep the night before, you realised this was it. You no longer had a chance and she was obviously into this girl.

Pausing momentarily, Robin then whispered,

“Yeah, but she’s not you.”

Robin hated how desperate she sounded, close to tears just because the girl she loved would longer going to live a few streets over, but instead in a whole new state where she could easily find people to replace her. Selfishly she wished you had chosen a University close by so it was easier for her to see you, but Robin knew how much you longed to leave Hawkins. This small town wasn’t made for people like you, an open mind that needed to thrive with others similar, not constraint to a town so lifeless. Going to New York seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity, especially after working so hard to be granted a scholarship. 

Realistically Robin knew that you going to college didn’t mean the end of your friendship. She could phone you, even commute, but something felt so wrong about letting you leave town without telling you how she truly felt.

“We can still see each other right? I’ll be home during break and you and Steve can get the train there whenever you like. I’m not gonna forget you Birdie, you’re my best friend.”

 “That’s it though.” Robin paused, letting out a bitter laugh. “I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

“I’m only going to University Robin.” You spoke defensively, your mind racing as you moved from your chair to the seat beside Robin on the couch.

It almost felt foreign hearing you call her by her actual name, so used to the way your lips formed her nickname.

 “I’m in love you Y/N/N.” 

 Robin’s heart was pounding as you let out a bellowing laugh. Instantly filling with dread. She swore she could feel her heart shattering. This was it, you were rejecting her and any chance of salvaging a friendship had been destroyed by her declaration of love.

“Robin,” She looked up to meet your gaze. The silence that had consumed the break room was defending. Apart of her wanted to make a break for it, take her bike and ride as far away from Hawkins as she could.

Taking a breath, you tightened your grip around Robin’s hand, pulling her closer until you were only inches away and spoke slowly with utter confidence.

“I love you too. I have done for so long and the idea of not being able to see you every day hurts.” You let out a soft cry. “Fuck B, I thought you really didn’t want to friends for a sec. I don’t want to be without you.”

Breathlessly, you leaned forward so your foreheads were touching, much like when you were both drunk in Tammy Thompson’s bathroom, except there was no sense of reluctance. Robin emitted a small chuckle, her heart leaping at your confession. Finally, Robin gained the courage to lean in and press a kiss against your lips, melting at your touch as you moved in sync with one another, emotion filling you both with warmth. You moved your hands from Robin’s grasp and wrapped your arms around her neck pulling her closer to you. Your chests were now touching as you eagerly tried to keep up with one another, a small moan slipping past her lips as you attempted to make up for the lost time. Her lips fit perfectly against yours, moving in unison until you both pulled apart breathlessly, forehead pressed together with relief and a new sense of giddiness flooding you both. 

 “I wanted to do that for so long.” You exasperated, moving back slightly so you could take her all in.

 “So have I.” Robin replied, lifting her thumb to stroke your cheek gently.

 “What about Angelica.” You questioned, suddenly coming to the realisation that there was perhaps someone out there that would make this proclamation of love pointless.

“There’s nothing to say about Angelia,” Robin spoke. “I only agreed to go out with her to make you jealous.”

You gasped at her words in amusement, relief flooding you.

“Can’t say I feel bad for her though. She ended up abandoning me for some red-headed chick. All I could think about was you.” Robin mused, leaning in close so you could feel her smile against your lips.

“Really?” You questioned. Robin nodded, kind of embarrassed by this confession.

You leaned in once more, pressing a rotation of kisses on either of her cheeks and finally closing the gap between your lips.

“I really do love you Birdie. We can make this work” 

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Stinky Love

Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader

ONE SHOT

Warnings: NSFW! Stay safe kiddos! No funny business till you know what you’re doing. Okay?

Word Count: It’s weird. Not bad. Not good weird. But it is weird nonetheless. I might be stuck in the middle. I want to make healthy decisions. The start of it? Hmm...let’s see...today I consciously did not get into hyperactive mode when I had nothing to do at work. I told myself it is okay to rest for ten minutes without thinking of having something in hand every second! Another thing I did was greet the guards at the entrance (Anxiety- 0 Me- 1). Oh aaaand I wrote this! Despite my block. Because someone really special requested it. :D

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Easy. Easy. Eeeeasy. EEE-"

"SHUT UP, SAM!"

"Okay."

You put your hand on your knees, trying to get some air inside your lungs while the tears basically flew into the relentless wind that tried its very best to crack open your cheeks until the blood gushed out.

"Oh fuck!" You sobbed, not knowing what to do with this poisonous feeling in your gut right before you felt the rush and out came the contents of your stomach.

Sam’s hand was already on your back making gentle upward strokes to get everything out once and for all, all the while trying his best to soothe you through the pain and embarrassment.

"Oh my God ," you cried a bit louder this time.

"Shh," Sam cut you with his soft voice, "it's okay. It's perfectly normal. It could happen to anyone. Not everyone has the stomach for...this. Here."

You took the bottle from his hand and rinsed your mouth of the toxic kick of your insides lingering in every taste bud and stood up straight- measuring the straightness of the spine with the amount your gut could take without throwing anything more out. Once you were sure of it, you sighed with ease and cut a look at Sam.

"I puked. On my shoes. Because I couldn't handle a cable car, Sam."

Sam tried to form words in his mouth but all he ended up doing was making funny faces that had no idea what they were trying to achieve. "Wel- I mean...I'm sure someone else might've"

" A CABLE CAR !"

Sam sighed and took your hand, walking away from the snowy edge towards the gazebo resting on the hilltop that was one way of him sheltering you from the cold winter breeze trying to ruin your perfect cheeks. The wooden chairs had fluffed Tibetan cushions and a corner by the thick cement pillar to sit over the traditionally made mattresses and enjoy the fire from the fire pit kept in the centre of it all. He took you by the corner and sat down with you.

"I am pretty sure something was wrong with that cable car, babe. Even I'm feeling a little weird in the stomach," he assured you and wiped away those precious tears off your face gently, not taking his stubborn eyes off you till he was sure you believed him.

"Liar," you muttered, your voice still broken from all the crying, your body pushing itself closer to Sam, who was more than happy to wrap his arms around you. "Don't you dare tell the rest about this. Or I swear to God, Samuel Thomas Wilson, you will regret it for the rest of your life."

Sam suppressed his giggles but his eyes were giving away the humour they found when those brown eyes saw the cuteness that erupted out of you whenever you threatened him. Hell, he'd been turned on on more than one occasion when you'd been trying to fight him, never taking the situation where it was supposed to go.

"Okay. Yeah. I can promise you that. Sure." Sam shrugged and nodded, his smile growing wider with every second when he could see your nose flare up at the thought of finding your misery so funny.

So he kissed your nose.

"Stop it," you groaned, scrunching your nose, "I stink."

"Oh," Sam tilted his head, "no you don't," and ended up kissing your cheek before moving to your jaw and then down your neck, nearly catching your sweet spot till you wiggled and closed yourself like a touch-me-not at his caress and giggled. " Staahaap ! Stop it! I really do stink." And to not give his sex-brain an edge over you, you got up and stood three feet apart from him, smirking with victory.

Sam exhaled. And for some reason, you could see that familiar heavy gaze in his melting eyes- the very gaze that meant he was wondering, of all the ways to turn you on in such a way that you just couldn't resist.

Oh no.

"Sooo," he nearly whistled the word, "if you don't drink anymore, you won't stop running away from my sloppy kisses."

Okay...this is a trap.

This definitely has to be a trap.

"Whatcha say, Y/N?"

Trap. Trap. Trap.

"Yeah sure. Why not. But I don't see a way of getting out of this stink filled clothes and boots any time soon. We're four hour's hike away from Tony's summer house. And the weather doesn't look like a good time to travel."

You stood there, quite proud of yourself at counting down all the possible ways he could get his expert hands on you- damn those hands, they really know how to work you. There was no way out of here unless by some miracle-

"Friday," Sam announced out of nowhere, lounging back onto the seat, "give us some privacy, would you?"

What?

"Wait-"

"Here you go, Mr Wilson," Friday's voice echoed through the gazebo before you saw walls rising up from the stones in the ground- with fucking windows at that- and tiny partitions divided that space to welcome- out of the ground like some grand revelation- a cosy bed in one corner with a shower attached in the wall across the glass partition. The fireplace crackled to life and warm lights flooded this small yet unimaginably comfortable little place.

"Would you like some music?" Friday asked politely.

"Yes, please," Sam announced, quite proud of himself, "put on something slow and sexy for my woman here."

You looked at him, eyes filled with equal amounts of shock and appreciation.

"You knew ," you mention, "that's why you brought me here."

"It was hard getting some alone time with you back at Tony's place. Of course, I had to get you away from there."

And that's why I love you.

You took a step towards him before going back, making Sam raise his brow in questioning confusion.

"I really want to kiss you right now but I would hate myself if you smell all the vomit on me."

"Okaaaay..." He sang softly while getting up and closing the distance between the two of you, his fingers undoing the zipper of your jacket, "how about we get that stink off you so that I can kiss you as much as I want you."

And as soon as your head nodded an approval, a slow dance began to get you- and him- out of the clothes.

The jacket and sweater were already on the floor when you were moving away from the little living room space towards the bedroom and bathroom space, Sam helping you out of your blue t-shirt- his favourite- and folding it neatly before putting it on the bed.

You, on the other hand, had already got him half-naked, reaching for his belt but not quick enough for he already had his thumbs hooked into your jeans, twirling you to get his hands on your bra, unhooking it to let it go of your breaths, kissing your shoulders as he does so.

"Wha-hey!" You tried to refrain from giving in. "That's not our deal!"

You could feel the vibrations of Sam's chuckle on your shoulder, his hands already done with the jeans, sliding them down your legs with a little help from you. You were throwing the pair away when Sam pressed the shower controls, letting a gush of effectively warmed water hit you with the right amount of pressure. You turned around to catch your boyfriend in his boxers, wiping away his face of the stray water beads before reaching for the shower gel by the slot in the wall.

His hands massaged your muscles in the shoulders, your arms and stomach and then took the help of the loofah to make foam up his work. Soon enough, every last trace of the stink along with fatigue was gone, washed away by the water, the stench of gory sickness leaving you to be replaced by a wave of everything fresh.

It was a task to get Sam away from you just so he could let you brush your teeth- thanks to Stark's complimentary toiletries- but you somehow did escape his arms to get that bit done and wrap yourself in a robe and walk out into the bedroom.

The bed was too enticing after that five-hour hike and your legs did not have the energy to do anymore. Though watching Sam's lusty eyes, you felt he had some other plans.

"Sam, babe, I know this-"

"Shhhh..." He was already on the bed, shushing you by his fingers before planting a light kiss on your lips and planting himself behind you on the bed where you sat. "Let me help you get rid of it."

His hands picked up a slow, sensual pace, grinding his thumbs into your shoulders and back, letting them feel the pain, winding up the fatigue itself before releasing the grip to make everything feel five times lighter than before. Your moans were just a bonus, which, it's quite obvious to say, was turning Sam on, making him leave deep kisses where his touch would leave marks where the pain left and relief entered.

"I-ahh didn't know I could get turned o-oohhh-on by a massage!"

Yup. Your words were becoming an incoherent slur just as time passed by and his hands were finding there way down your waist, forcing you to lie down and let your body enjoy the much-needed love and sweet sweet torture.

"Oh...but I'm just getting started, pumpkin," he announced before slapping your butt cheek and turning you on your back and opening your legs.

"Well, who am I to say no to excellent service," you shrugged and pressed your lips to prevent the cheeky smirk about to land on your face while Sam chuckled and kissed your thighs, leaving wet kisses and nibbles on his way to your core.

His hot breath was your undoing. His touch dropped every last chain of restraint while his tongue called the Goddess of sex to come out and play.

And play, they did. The best concert on your aroused instrument, his tongue the professional conductor, knowing which swing and twirl of his will bring the perfect symphonies out of you, making you writhe under him with rising pleasure that was the quickest high on record.

"Sam," his name was coming out as a breathless chant from your lips, your hands finding his hair while his tried to keep your hips in place. "Please," the Goddess was begging to let the waves rise above the dams to let the floodgates be opened, either way, the high wanted to end with a thundering roar.

The moans grew louder once his fingers found your sweet spots and his tongue worked its magic around your clit. The tightness of your walls around him were telling him to increase the pace, making the Goddess dance with pleasure unknown before. The torrents rose, taking all your senses with them before breaking with a bang, their echoes coming after as Sam made sure he let you enjoy every last drop of nature's nectar.

Breathless.

Both you and him.

He flumped into the mattress beside you, watching your flushed face with a chuckle.

"How ya feelin'"

"...lucky?"

The walls vibrated with his laughter. Sam turned to you, picking the box of tissues- luxurious, of course; thank you, Stark- from the bedside table to help clean up the mess before taking you in his arms and wrapping you both in the duvet.

You kissed him. Once. Twice. Thrice. Okay, just one last time , because the number of kisses you wanted to shower him with was not enough.

"Okay, alright, sweetheart," Sam stated, taking another love-filled kiss from you, "your eyes are half open and you are on the edge of falling into a coma if you don't sleep right this second."

You groan. "Lemme kiss youuuuhhh."

Wrapping you in his arm, bringing you closer to his warm chest, Sam planted a peck your forehead.

"Sweet dreams, honey."

You yawned, tickling his chest with your breath. Your body bringing itself closer to his for the attractive abundance of love and warmth, your lips wearing a smile at the thought of him loving you even when you were a stinky mess.

"I love you, Samuel Thomas Wilson."

"I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N."

[motleycrueimagine]

This Ain’t a Love Song - Part Seven - Nixxi Sixx Fan Fiction

Words:  2664

Warnings: Language, alcol, drugs, soft smut

N/A: I’m really sorry for the delay, I finally moved and it has been really hard to find time to write something decent. I let you read now, as always taglist is open and feedbacks are really appreciated. xx

Huge thanks to @blonde-shamrock

Summary:

Maya Prescott has done anything possible to fix her life. It was 1977 when she left her groupie life: no more parties, no more concerts, no more drugs, alcohol or casual sex, just to achieve a full standard life. Now it’s 1981 and after a four years disappearance  Maya Prescott unexpectedly shows up to the party of one of the most promising emerging bands of the LA’s rock’n roll scene: Motley Crue. But what should be her last ride is destined to change her life in so many unexpected ways.  

TagList: @motleycrueee  @babygal-babygal@unknownoblivion @sweetshutter

Masterlist

Maya’s POV

I was awakened by a gentle touch at the height of my hips. It took me a few seconds to realize what was happening; in a tangle of sheets and legs I noticed I was almost completely lying on Nikki. Still asleep and not very alert, I went along with his movement, trying to move me back to my side of the bed.

“Sorry…” I yawned passing a hand over my eyes.

“No stay here, I just had your elbow stuck in my ribcage…” the bassist explained to me and kept me from going further.

“I am not a spoon-cuddler, especially after a night of just sleeping,” I muttered looking for a semblance of personal space. I went back to give him my shoulders ready to go back to sleep.

“Let’s fuck then, so that we can cuddle and keep being socially acceptable.” I felt his fingers gently trace the profile of my spine, then climb up my side to the edge of my thong. That simple touch was enough to shake my self-control, in an instant I found myself imagining what it would be like to feel his hands wandering fearlessly over my naked body.

I turned my head just enough to see his profile beyond my shoulder; he must had taken my look as an invitation to go on because he moved my dark hair to get better access to my skin and start depositing kisses on my shoulder.

His hand had risen up to my belly to hold me and to intensify the contact between our bodies. Now my imagination was sailing towards not-so-chaste thoughts. He suddenly let go allowing me to turn around and to find him on top of me, with a triumphant smile, hair more messed up than usual. We rushed into one another lips and although the delicacy of that kiss was non-existent our bodies kept touching as if for one moment to the other one could break. My fingers were touching his neck, and through his skin I could feel his pulse accelerating. The part of me that wanted to stop him gave up at the exact moment when his fingers touched the subtle fabric of my underwear. A sigh was suffocated by the insistence of his mouth.

His fingertips were a sweet torture as they rubbed my clit on top of the fabric, I could feel my body tensing up already with impatience.

“You have no idea how damned you made me, Maya,” he murmured between a kiss whilst expertly shifting the fabric just enough to gain access to my centre. One of his fingers slipped into me and started to move in a slow peace. He had stopped kissing me, and was now just watching my lips part as he added another finger.

I could not formulate a response in that moment, I was afraid that me saying something would have brought me back to reality, because even though I wanted him now so fucking bad, I knew that by the moment I walked out of that door I would have regretted it for the rest of my life. I pulled up a little bit just enough to allow our mouths to engage in a rough, messy kiss, lasting only a few instants before he got back kissing my neck.

His bites made me silently moan while my hands reached for his erection to massage it following the rhythm dictated from his fingers.

“I want you to fuck me Nikki…” I was finally able to say. He bit me again with a hoarse groan, causing me a sweet pain I would be cursing him for over the next couple days. His fingers slipped out of me.

“I was only waiting for you to ask me, babe,” he said getting up to pull away my thong in a haste. He leaned back on me and while kissing me softly he entered in me, in the same exact moment in which Tommy decided to join us in the room.

“Sixx do you kn… oh shit. sorry. Sorry! I… I haven’t seen anything, I swear!” Tommy started rambling covering his eyes with a hand.

“Shit,” I exclaimed grabbing the covers to hide my modesty, sliding away from the bassist.

“What the fuck! What part of knocking is not clear?!” Nikki looked really mad.

“Sorry sorry sorry!” Tommy literally ran out the door, and probably went away to hide, leaving us alone again in an embarrassing silence. We stayed there, lying on our backs for a few seconds, avoiding each other’s eyes. Finally, I found the strength to get up and look for my stuff.

“Wait are you going for real?” Nikki asked pointing his elbows on the mattress.

“Well, the atmosphere is gone and plus you caught me in a moment of weakness, so…” I avoided his gaze finding my dress on the ground.

“So you’re just going to leave me here with a boner?” he asked, finally I turned to look at him. A little grin appeared on my lips.

“When you’re done jerking off, I’ll be in the kitchen with some coffee.” And as I said so I left the room.

*one week later*

I was singing along to Rick Springfield’s Jessie’s girl while organizing some new records that had been delivered that same morning. I had been working as a salesgirl at Remington Records for two years now and I considered it as my main job. It was a small music shop just a few blocks away from the Sunset Boulevard. Music was always playing out loud, the walls cluttered with signed pictures of bands that were yet to be discovered - Peter, the owner, collected ‘em in the hope of them gaining popularity, but by now he could count the ones who made it on just one hand.

Peter Remington Jr had inherited the shop from his father, and now he was patiently waiting for his son Jude to give up his dreams on a music career to go on with the family business.

“Do you need help, May?” Jude emerged from the back, walking towards me. He was the kind of guy every girl dreamed of, even with his feathered hair and chipped black nail polish he seemed like the classic boy next door. He could try to look as punk as he would but he looked too pure to be a rockstar.

“No honey I’m almost done,” I assured him while setting up the last records.

“Ya know my band is going to play at a party on Friday I was wondering if you wanted to come see us…” he queried. My eyes rose from the box to him.

“I would love to honey, but this weekend Mia will be with me, and ya know…” I lifted the empty box walking towards the counter. “Maybe next time,” I assured trying to hide the fact that it probably wasn’t gonna happen. It’s not that I didn’t support his dreams. I just wasn’t interested in following around a cover band whom members were pretty much only trying to gain popularity in order to fuck chicks was not my thing. You could hear the lack of passion in their performances; they didn’t care about their music, they were not able to weigh the lyrics and to give you an experience. Order Rythm… what a shitty name. Just as Mick would say: shitty name a hundred per cent of the time shitty band.

“Oh right, how is she doing?”

“She is doing great. She’s growing up so fast and she’s…” I was interrupted by the ring of the phone.

“Remington Records, Maya speaking, how can I help you?” I answered picking up the receiver.

“Oh Maya finally! I looked for you everywhere…” it was Ruby, my colleague at the club..

“Hi honey, what’s up?” I could hear an infomercial about slimming pants in the background.

“Yeah you know that I had booked this photoshoot for my book something like two months ago? Well the photographer is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G, but I can’t really go. I was wondering if you were interested in taking my place.” I had spent the past weeks looking for a photographer on a budget without success.

“Uhm I would say yes but how much is that?” I asked. I was not willing to waste my savings for a photoshoot with a guy I didn’t even knew.

“Uhm I believe it is 600 but I already paid half of it, so you’ll have to pay 300 and give the rest to me whenever you have it.”

“I don’t know Ru, you know I’m trying to save up some.”

“Oh c’mon I’m gonna lose ‘em anyways so you don’t have to pay me right away.” A few seconds of silence followed, I was weighing up the pros and cons of the offer.

“Well… I guess I can do it. But I’ not gonna pay you if the photos sucks, deal?” If I was going to spend a whole month of rent on pictures they better be worth it.

“Deal!” she exclaimed, “Did I already tell you how much I love you?”

“It will never be enough. I gotta go, see you tonight Ru.”

*later that same night*

“Did you forgot to put on pants, sweetheart?” Vince’s voice joined me as soon as I climbed over the window, he jokingly gave me a glare of disapproval. I looked down at my micro-shorts: they were black denim with some cool leather fringes on the sides.

“Why? It would be such a shame not to show this nice booty.” I replied getting closer to him to kiss his cheek. His arm embraced my hip.

“How you doin?” he questioned, while I fixed his blonde Barbie hair behind his ear. I looked around at the party guests - as usual a ton of people was hanging in the living room.

“I’m doing great… Is that David Lee Roth?” My attention was caught by the singer who was sitting on a couch with a plate full of rails.

“It seems like everybody wants to party with us, isn’t it cool?” I nodded in response.

“Do you think he would mind if I ask him to sign my ass?” I questioned; Vince leaned back to admire my lower back once again.

“I believe it is worth a signature,” he agreed.

“Well then I’ll go get my autograph, but first lemme find Tommy, he has some stuff for me,” I grinned caressing Vince’s fluffy hair one more time before leaving. I walked through the crowded room looking for the drummer. I grabbed a beer on the way, waving at some people I knew. After wandering around the small apartment for what felt like an eternity, asking people for Tommy, a guy directed me towards Vinnie and Tommy’s room, where he was supposed to be with some chick he had met. I knocked on the door one or two times and then opened it since there was no response.

Bad choice.

“Fuck, we said we’re busy here!” a girl screamed stopping but not moving from her position, she sounded pretty mad. Laying on Tommy’s bed, underneath the red-haired girl wasn’t Tommy, instead it was Nikki.

“Shit.. I’m sorry I didn’t know” I apologized looking at the two of them. Nikki lifted his hand waving at me in a sort of awkward and embarrassed salutation, his pants pulled down to his ankles. I lifted my hand as well. “Well, sorry for interrupting, ehm… have fun,” I muttered awkwardly, closing the door behind me. Okay that was weird. I didn’t even have the time to process what had just happened as Tommy decided to show up right behind me. Fuck him.

“Where the fuck was you? I might have just experienced one of the most traumatizing moments in my entire life.”

“Oh you mean Scarlet?” Tommy let a hand go through his hair trying not to seem so amused, “That girl is wild isn’t she?” I gave him a hard look.

“I’m not interested in knowing what that girl does in bed. I’m more interested in the special snow you promised me.” I switched subject for the sake of my mental stability.

The drummer puffed sliding a hand in his pocket “Well May-May you know I always keep my promises.” He handed me a bag full of white dust.

“Is this for real?” I asked over excited while opening it and picking up some with my red painted nail. Tommy nodded looking at me while I snorted the little quantity of dust, the party was about to begin.

Nikki’s POV

I pulled up my black jeans looking at the lady that was now resting on Tommy’s bed. I couldn’t remember her name but for sure I would have remembered that she wasn’t the girl for me. Her experience and extravagance was not enough to compensate the desire to shut her up every time one of her annoyingly high pitched moans - that seemed fake as fuck- left her lips.

I fastened my belt and left the room without saying a word. Vince was right behind the door waiting for his turn.

“Third ride?” My question made him giggle like a three year old who had got caught doing something bad. He sneaked in letting me out. I fixed my hair walking calmly towards the party. Some girls were dancing to Bringin’ on the Heartbreak by Def Leppard. I looked around for some booze only being able to find a half empty beer.

An easily recognizable laugh burst through the room, mixing pleasantly with the music “Oh c’mon let me go!” I turned looking for the girl that lately was the object of my desire. Tommy was holding her wrists pulling her on the couch with him while she was playfully trying to escape. She stumbled giving up on her attempt and landing straight on the drummer’s lap.

“Oh shut up, stop it!” I moved joining the duo, taking a sip of my almost empty bottle.

Tommy stopped tickling Maya’s sides as soon as I reached ‘em.

“Oh look who is gracing us with his presence,” she greeted me fixing her leopard blouse – one sleeve had slipped down her shoulder.

“That quickie lasted a little too long, Vince was so impatient waiting for you to come out,” Tommy added letting her free.

I shrugged “It’s not my fault, she wouldn’t shut her mouth… plus she…” My explanation was interrupted by Maya.

“For how much I would like to hear about your sexual encounter, I’m gonna go,” she announced lifting a black denim jacket from under Tommy’s butt.

“C’mon May-May I told we’re going but later!” The drummer protested causing her to back off a little in order to escape from his hold.

“It’s so early, are you really going home?” It was barely one in the morning.

“I’m not going home, I just wanna buy some booze down the street, there’s nothing to drink around here.” She wore her jacket ready to leave.

“You CAN’T go outside like that all alone.” Tommy glared at her shorts.

Maya rolled her eyes “Said my father…” She was not going to give up. She was so fucking stubborn it was almost annoying.

“I’m going with her,” I volunteered finishing my beer. Her pretty pouty face suddenly lit up in a smile.

“Chivalry isn’t dead after all… Let’s go.” And with that she made her way to the window.

I followed her not knowing that the 20-minute walk was going to be more interesting than the party itself.

[roger1na]

careful ch8 - john deacon x reader

summary: you are a ballet student at the royal ballet academy. To pay for your tuition, you work part-time at the celebrity gossip magazine, Seven. One fateful day you’re sent to interview a band on the rise, Queen, post-concert and fall in love with the sweetest man on the planet.

word count: 2k+

warnings: swearing, some sexual implications

author's note: yEehaw she's a little late. my adhd said fuck you and i couldn't focus on anything and also she's a little shorter than usual but honestly i had no material. however i rlly like the dialogue in this chapter. and also i think it's cute.

chapter eight

You smoothed over the red satin ribbon you had gently tied around the small blue box for the hundredth time. Your wristwatch ticked gently at the minutes going by as your taxicab sat in traffic. You wish you could've called him to say you were coming, you just might be late.

You'd stressed over a present, having no clue what John liked, really. Engineering and some disco tracks, photography and the like, but coming up with a present from all that was difficult. You were proud with what you had come up with, though.

Suddenly, the cab lurched forward and continued the route much faster than before and relief washed over you as the houses lining the street went into motion blur.

You hadn't been quite sure what to wear to your boyfriend's concert. Even that term was still up for debate. You hadn't said it aloud yet. You wondered what the fans would think. You had settled on a skirt and a Queen -hoodie, just to be supportive and to be wary of the rainy clouds gathering in the sky. You were determined to not freeze.

The venue itself was a rather small pub, especially packed with people. Some were already tipsy, even drunk, although it was early in the evening.

You slipped backstage, twisting grey hallways leading to a small backstage room with poor lighting next to the stage. Anxiety made you fret you'd gone to the wrong bar until you spotted the blonde curls of Roger.

He was turned around, hassling with his drum kit and you tapped his shoulder. He let out a small squeak and turned around fast but quickly relaxed when he realised it was only you.

"Ah you made it! Deaky's been fretting all evening."

You helped him up and smiled. "Yeah, traffic was just awful."

You tried having a polite conversation with him but your eyes kept flitting around looking for John and the rest of the band.

"Y/N?" Roger waved a thin-fingered hand over your eyes and you snapped out of your daze, feeling like you'd almost chewed through your lower lip.

"Wha-hm?" You managed to sputter.

"I asked you for your favourite Queen song, so we could add it to the program."

"Oh," you blushed sheepishly. "Sorry. I was just…"

"Looking for John?"

The blush deepened and you only managed a nod.

"He's sobering up, Freddie's holding his hair and Brian's mother henning him." Roger laughed.

"What? Is he okay?" Your eyes grew wide like saucers.

"Oh don't worry, we just gave him some champagne to loosen him up. Turns out we gave him too much. Combined with nerves he was a bit done for."

"Oh." You hummed.

"Seriously, Y/N. He's completely okay."

You went back to nibbling on your lower lip, not saying anything for a while. Roger leaned against the wall and took out a pack of Marlboro Reds which reminded you of Rose and calmed you down strangely. "My friend Rose smokes the same brand." You remarked quietly.

"Rose?" Roger's interest was piqued before you shook your hand.

"Nuh-uh, she doesn't swing that way."

"Ah, I see." He said, and then the slightly awkward silence came back, slightly heavier than before. You rubbed your arm and your hairs bristled.

Finally, he spoke up. "How come it took you two so long to, well, you know. Get together. You're practically jumping out of your skin to see him."

You looked at him slightly confused.

"I know we teased you on saturday but I know you didn't even kiss until the friday before the last," he continued.

"Hm."

"Great answer."

"I'm thinking!" You protested. "I suppose, it's always a challenge to be a woman. Especially as somebody whose identity is so strongly tied to my work. I mean, I don't really expect you to get it but I had to watch it. Make sure my relationship with John wouldn't eat me up."

"Yeah. I mean, it makes sense, doesn't it? Especially because he's a bit well known."

"Right! Do you see how magazines like The Sun or Seven write about women? We're accessories. That sort of sucks. I didn't want to get into somebody only to realise our lives didn't fit or something, and then I'd still have meddled too far for it to have no effect on my personal life." You hadn't expected to elicit such a clever response from Roger.

"I don't get it get it. But I understand. You had to make sure you had your footing on a sturdy ledge before you climbed."

"Exactly!"

"I'm glad you took the chance."

You smiled softly. A clamor of voices interrupted your conversation before you could answer.

"Brian, he's totally fine!" Came Freddie's slightly scratchy, posh, voice.

"He's turning green, Freddie." Brian insisted.

"Do I get a say? I'm okay." An east-England accentuated voice piped up.

The three men rounded the corner and you saw him, slightly pale, hair frizzed up and eyeliner ruined but still there. You locked eyes and his face split into a grin. Before you could stop yourself, you leapt into a sprint-half-jog across the room into his arms. It was clumsy, badly-orchestrated and he could barely stay upright as he caught your body in his arms and your lips in his.

"Well, hi, I'm definitely fine now."

"Hello, happy birthday!" You wished him, enjoying the warmth of his arms.

"Don't we get a hello, Y/N?" Freddie asked you as John slowly let you down.

"Hi, yes, hi," you fixed your hair before quickly giving Freddie and Brian their own slightly less intense hugs.

"We're so glad you made it," Freddie grinned. "I love what you're wearing." He added, slightly teasingly.

"Listen," you said, mock-sternly. "I had to pick something that matches the set!"

"And it's great," John took your hand, interrupting anymore comments. "Come, I'll show you the dressing room."

He lead you to a small room that was more of a supply closet.

The room measured maybe four metres by four, with graffitied band names and posters on the wall. A small table with uneven legs stood in the corner, with a bowl of bright red gummy bears on the edge.

"It's…" You paused looking for words.

"Dingy, I know," he laughed. "I'm sure we'll get better ones in November, actually."

"What's happening in November?"

"We're performing at the Rainbow again, like in march, but this time, with the new album."

"Oh that's fantastic," you grinned. "What's the new album called?" You asked.

"Sheer Heart Attack." He smiled proudly.

"Is it going to be scandalous? Will it have more than a dash of Deaky?"

"Absolutely, I wrote a whole song."

"You did? Will I get to hear it?"

Suddenly his cheeks sported a bright crimson and he shook his head. "It's silly."

"Oh come on!" You tugged at his arm slightly. "It'll be my new favourite."

"Oh, I don't think so. But Freddie's trying to get me to play it today."

"Ha, so I'll hear it anyway," you smile.

He was about to reply but Roger came to the door. "Deaks, we're starting in five, you should let Y/N to the bar." He'd lined his eyes with black kohl, probably matching with Freddie. John's was not as smudged or intense but it definitely brought their otherwise quite clashed look together as a band.

"Right then," you turned to him, smiling encouragingly. "Good luck. I'll be in the front row."

"Don't I get a good luck kiss?" He complained and you rolled your eyes, pecking his lips softly.

"Bye then."

You slipped from the dressing room and through a dimly lit hallway back to the main room, where there was loud chatter and drunken wailing.

You were brought back to the first time you'd met John. The loud people, the intenseness of the show, the participation of the crowd. It all seemed so familiar, when you elbowed your way to the front as they walked out, surrounded by cheers. John caught your eye and winked. A girl screamed in the crowd as the first notes were plucked out but you were too absorbed in the music you couldn't pay attention to anybody else.

They played various songs from their first and second album, including some of your favourites like Liar and Son and Daughter.

"Right, then," Freddie walked to the front, sweat glistening on his forehead, kohl even more smudged than intended.

"I'm glad it sounds like you're enjoying yourselves." The crowd cheered at his words and he smiled, a bit sheepish, a bit shy. "Thank you, we still have one last song for you. It's off our new album," he twirled the microphone cord in his hands. "And it's written by our very own bassist, mr. John Deacon!"

The crowd clapped and whistled and cheered loudly and John smiled to himself, leaning into his microphone. "It's an odd number, I'll give you that."

"Here is," Freddie paused for drama. "Misfire!"

A jazzy tune of guitars and bass and loud clear snares started up. The crowd was absolutely too hammered to hear the lyrics properly but you had to giggle. John caught your eye again and saw you laughing, looking away a bit bashful.

The song ended with a happy strum done by Brian and then the lights dimmed, they all bowed and it was over. You were still tingling all over from the basslines sliding over you to notice the crowd start to dissipate.

Backstage there was energy and bubble. Freddie had a cheap bottle of sparkling wine that he was trying to pop open. The cork shot out and hit the ceiling with a loud bang and the band cheered. Freddie raised his glass. "To John's birthday and first song," and tousled John's curls. You laced your fingers in his and smiled.

"Hey, I have a present for you," you whispered in his ear when the other boys had started squabbling goodnaturedly about something.

"You didn't have to," he told you, but he looked happy as you handed him the box.

The red satin ribbon came off with ease as he tugged at it gently, slightly nervous at what you had gotten him.

"It's a mixtape. And tickets to my next show for the entire band. But don't tell Freddie now, he'll lose his mind." You smiled, when he opened the box to a small cassette tape. The plastic case rattled slightly when he took it from the box and turned it to try and see a setlist. Instead of a list of songs, it was the polaroid of you two, grinning stupidly into the camera on a thunderous saturday afternoon.

"How will I know what song's coming up?" His smile was hesitant.

"Well, uh, I thought it was sweeter with the polaroid. Also I kind of forgot what songs I put in there."

"Wow."

"And I know it's not much but-"

"No, no it's great," he smiled and while you had turned away flustered he wiped one eye quickly. Freddie caught his eye and grinned mischievously as if all this was somehow his doing.

"Alright, alright then, it is John's birthday, so it is only appropriate we go get properly wasted," Freddie interrupted the moment and raised his glass. "To Shelley's!"

Shelley's was a pub Queen frequented often, whether it was performing or chatting with the aggressive but kind hearted matron. You spun around on the barstool as John ordered some strangely named Shelley's exclusive cocktails which always tasted familiar but they weren't your average Bloody Mary's.

He brought two glasses of a bright green drink, which tasted like artificial watermelon, and if you were honest, it was kind of shitty. But you were enjoying yourself.

The radio blared some old songs, couples danced to slow songs and groups of girls rocked out to the fast paced disco songs. You were taking it in, reporter eyes absorbing every detail when John took your hand.

"Did you have fun tonight?" He whispered.

"The best time. Happy birthday again. I loved the new song." You smirked a little bit.

"Well… It is pretty funny. Like you said I should make it."

"Is it truthful?" You challenged, alcohol making your filter nonexistent.

"What? Of course not!"

"Prove it."

***

taglist: @fourmisfits @deakysgirl @im-happy-at-home @obsessedwithrogertaylor @itsametaphorbriansblog @rhapso-kei @deacontaylormaymercury @queenmylovely @imgonnabeyourslave @weirdestmentalityphilosopher @thefatbottomedmay @heyyyyyyyleykiyoko @brujademente @marvellouslynerdy @sunflower-borhap-boys

[winnipegpatty]

to all the boys i’ve loved before [pt. vi] | s.m. series

a/n: here’s the ski trip yay!!!! feedback is MUCH appreciated. all other parts are linked in my master list!

SKI TRIP

I remember writing those words on the contract thinking there was absolutely no possible way this would last that long. Three months I’d been faking it with Shawn, but when did it become real? I couldn’t pinpoint the moment, but as my dad dropped me off at school on the fateful Friday morning, I felt my entire world shifting. I was going on an overnight trip with Shawn Mendes. School sponsored, sure, but everyone knew that meant nothing. It felt monumental. Ground breaking. Earth shattering. Like something that shouldn’t be happening when it’s all fake.

I stared up at the large charter bus, as if it somehow held the key to calming the anxiety that was running rampant in my heart. It did nothing but heighten my awareness of what awaited on the other side of the drive. Finally mustering up the strength, I threw my backpack over my shoulder and stepped into my fate.

Shawn was sitting a few rows in, clearly waiting for me. He hopped to his feet the moment he saw me, but I avoided all contact and tried to push past him.

“Hey, hey wait. Where are you going?” He looked concerned. I’m not really sure why exactly, like he felt like something was wrong between the two of us. But nothing was wrong.

Except that everything was wrong.

“I think I’m just going to go sit with Chris,” I gestured towards my friend in the back.

“What? Chris? Come on, look at her. She’s sleeping. I saw on her Snapchat, she was up all night partying at an EDM concert or club or something.”

I nodded, trying not to consider the idea that Shawn was keeping up with my friends. “All the more reason for me to sit with her then.” Stepping away from Shawn’s obviously hurt face, I landed in the seat next to Chris.

Following right after me was Gen, who of course found Shawn right off the bat. “This seat taken?” She hummed sweetly.

Shawn looked back at me, unsure. “Uhhh,” Shawn turned around, “No.”

And just like that, Shawn was engulfed in the presence of Gen. I knew he’d completely forget about me if I only just let him.

Chris mumbled, “I hate you for making me get up this early,” before she turned towards me and cuddled into my side. At least I’d always have Chris. No matter what.

___

The lodge was beautiful. The ceilings were high with giant wood beams, and it looked like something out of a Magnolia magazine. Perfect touches of farmhouse chic sprinkled everywhere. The fireplace was lit, comfortable blankets strategically placed around the couches. It was cozy.

“And listen they said to me, ‘Greg, make sure everyone sleeps in their assigned rooms’” I heard one of the student council members, Greg apparently, speaking as I entered into a lobby area. “And I said, ‘Overruled! Sleep where you want sluts!’” He made a dramatic move of throwing all the room keys on the floor, and suddenly it made sense how people lost their virginity on this trip. I wonder how many got pregnant too.

“Those are the chaperones?” I muttered to Chris, ignoring the mad dash for room keys.

“See you on the Black Diamond, Shawn?” Gen hollered from across the room. Shawn looked up at the mention of his name, as the entire room looked at him. “Last one down owes the other a hot toddy.”

Shawn didn’t respond, just continued talking to the boy he was standing next to.

“Go get your man,” Chris nudged me.

I scoffed, annoyed at my existence on this trip in the first place. “Are you kidding? I can’t go down a ski slope! I don’t even know how to put on the boots!”

“If you don’t plan on skiing, what do you plan on doing all weekend?”

As my best friend, Christ really should have saw it coming. “I came prepared,” I said, pulling out my backpack full of romance novels.

“No, no! This is a major backslide, Y/N. What, hey, Lucas!” Chris called as Lucas came over towards us, “help me convince Y/N to come ski with us.”

Lucas laughed, “I’m sorry you think I’m going to ski? It’s cold, and I don’t do the cold.”

Chris looked between the two of us completely bewildered.

“I have facemasks!” I offered, knowing Lucas would instantly side with me.

___

“So, let me get this straight,” Lucas said as we sat adjacent on the hotel beds. The timer on my phone rang, signaling the time to take off the masks. “Shawn asked you to fake date him so that Gen would be jealous and you said yes so that Josh Sanderson wouldn’t think you like him. But then somewhere around mile two you realized you actually had feelings for Shawn, and now you think you’re fucked because he’s still trying to get back together with Gen?”

It sounded like a lot when it was said like that. “I know, it’s kind of crazy, but I’m just feeling so overwhelmed.”

“Look,” Lucas waved his hands to get me to stop talking. “I don’t care how this all started, all I know is that homeboy Shawn has it bad for you. It’s so fucking obvious in the way he looks at you. Like he wants to write songs about your or some shit.”

I laughed, kind of feeling the strings in my heart loosen a bit at his words. “It doesn’t matter, he’s still so hung up on Gen, and I’m just another stupid girl who fell for Shawn Mendes. It’s embarrassing”

“Look, everyone gets a little obsessed over their first relationship, first kiss, first time, you name it. Firsts are scary and important and they stick with you, no matter where you go. Let’s just look at the facts for a second. Feelings completely aside. The whole fake relationship was his idea. You made the no kissing rule. And you’re the one who keeps trying to break up with him. And you’re the one who keeps ignoring him. And you’re also the one currently having a spa night with a gay man, while he’s probably down there waiting for you in the hottub. So, I’d say, if there’s anyone who fell for someone stupidly who doesn’t like them back, it’s Shawn. Not you.”

“You think he’s waiting for me in the hottub?”

“Hell yeah, he’d be a fucking idiot if he weren’t.”

___

“All alone out here?” I asked Shawn as I came around the hottub.

He had been waiting, and that may have done something to my heart. His curls had gotten longer since we started dating, and I really enjoyed the way they flopped across his forehead haphazardly.

Shaw looked up at me, and the casually back at the water.

“So, now you’re ignoring me?” I questioned quietly.

Shawn scoffed, swirling the water with his finger a bit. “Oh, I’m the one ignoring you?” He laughed, but it was fake. “That’s funny.” There was this weird tone to Shawn’s voice that I couldn’t decipher, something I hadn’t heard before.

Deciding to take a plunge, well...a dip, I walked around to the stairs of the hot tub and tipped my feet in, feeling the warmth of the water. “Sorry, I can’t ski. You didn’t even offer to teach me, so I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing here, Shawn. What’s my role?”

“Right, I’m supposed to just be sweet to you, when you don’t even sit with me on the bus ride? Like honestly what the fuck was that? And your role? How about being what we agreed on, my girlfriend. Girlfriends sit with boyfriends on bus rides. They ski together. Spend time together.”

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me? You got to sit next to Gen, and that’s who you wanted to sit with anyway. The whole purpose of the entire trip, our relationship, me being here, it all comes back to Gen.”

“You’re so dense,” Shawn muttered.

“Excuse me?” I said, turning to face him more directly.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to sit by Gen! I wanted to sit next to you, Y/N.” Shawn stressed every word, making it clear that he’d never intended to sit next to anyone but me. “I packed the snacks I know you liked. I literally asked Sof how to make fucking horchata so that I could bring you a nice drink. She had to tell me where to get all these special ingredients, and literally came over to my house to help me make it.”

“That grocery store is all the way across town,” I said in shock.

“I know,” Shawn stressed. “So if I went all the way across town and spent an entire evening with Sofia trying to learn something so that I could make you happy, you really think I was excited to sit next to Gen and not you? I went to all this extra trouble to do something you’d like and that means…” Shawn trailed off.

“That you really like horchata?” I tried.

Shawn rolled his eyes and jokingly pushed water towards me, “You are impossible.”

I looked at Shawn, focusing in on him, “I’m sorry that I didn’t sit next to you.”

“It’s alright,” Shawn whispered. He gave me a small smile, and shrugged lightly.

And it was in this moment, that I decided to take a risk. I’d never know, if I didn’t try, afterall. So I shrugged my coat off, and gently eased my way into the hot tub. Shawn’s eyes widened at my movement, and he swallowed quietly. Coming to stand right in front of him, I froze. Fuck, this was it. This was the moment, right? Like that cinematic dramatic moment.

“Hi,” I spoke into the silence.

…And that’s not how the cinematic moments go, but whatever.

Shawn laughed and wrapped his arm around my waist. He pulled me closer to his body before whispering, “There’s no one like you, Y/N.” He looked at me for just a moment longer before he pulled me in and kissed me gently. And god, what a fucking kiss. I felt the air in my lungs give way, and all I could feel was Shawn. His hard chest against my own, my legs wrapped around his hips, my fingers on his cheeks. It was Shawn overload, but there was absolutely nothing better than that in the entire world.

Fuck the no kissing rule, what the hell was I thinking?

___

Shawn had asked me to come back to his room, but “only to hang out and eat the snacks that he’d gotten for me”.  And yes, that is a quote. So I went, only a little unsure, mostly just because of the weekends reputation. But I told myself that I wouldn’t stay too long. I’d go back to my room with Chris and enjoy the rest of my night in peace.

“Tell me what your favorite show to binge is?” I asked Shawn as I sipped away at a surprisingly good horchata.

“It’s gotta be Brooklyn Nine Nine right now or Gilmore Girls.”

I laughed, “Gilmore Girls, really? Are you more of a Lorelai or a Rory?”

Shawn scoffed as he took reached for the bag of Takis, “Lorelai obviously. Honestly, I’m offended if you would have thought any differently.”

I smiled at him, “Yeah you have the wit of a Lorelai, and you aren’t nearly studious enough to be a Rory.”

Shawn feigned hurt before rolling his eyes. “What about you? Favorite binge show?”

“For me it’s Friends. Which, I know...it’s so basic. I’m not unique enough, but I just really love it. Monica and Chandler are just perfect and Joey is so hilarious. I mean, there’s no episode that I can’t laugh to or have fun with.”

Shawn nodded, smiling intensely at me for a moment. His eyes were soft and everything in me just adored him.

“What?” I finally asked, laughing uncomfortably, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Shawn asked quietly, biting his lip.

“I dunno,” I shrugged. “Like you can’t look anywhere else, you’re just staring so intensely.”

Shawn smiled, “Where else would I want to look, Y/N?”

I bit my lip, unsure how to answer.

“You know, I really like you, right?” Shawn said softly.

I stared at him, slightly shocked. Had we just finished making out in a hot tub? Sure. But the quiet and intimate tone was just different. It was just me and Shawn, and I’m not sure I’m ready to handle everything that entails.

I choked out a quiet, “I like you too.”

Completely unsure what to say or do, I sat there on the bed, a few feet away from Shawn. Shawn put the Takis down before reaching for the horchata in my hand and placing it on the bedside time. He pushed his legs up against my own before looking down at me with all sincerity in his eyes, “I want this to be real, Y/N. I wanna make us real. I think you and me both know it’s been real for a while, but we’ve been too afraid to say so.”

I leaned my weight against Shawn, forehead coming to his shoulder. “You wanna be my boyfriend, like for real?” I whispered.

Shawn nodded, “I really do.”

“I want that too. God, yeah I really want that, Shawn.”

___

Waking up the next morning felt surreal. Yesterday, I’d been in a fake relationship with Shawn Mendes. But today, today was a whole new world. It was a world full of beauty and excitement. A world where I could kiss Shawn just because I felt like it. It was a world completely free of contracts and rules. A world where I had a boyfriend. A real boyfriend. My first boyfriend. A world where frankly, anything seemed possible.

It was a world that came crashing down the moment I stepped on the bus. People clapping and hollering at me like I’d somehow managed to score something huge. Made a game winning play or something. It made my skin crawl.

I sat down next to Shawn, “You didn’t tell anyone about last night did you?”

“No,” Shawn answered wholeheartedly, “It’s just how people treat couples on the ski trip.” I sighed, hoping that were true. “Hey I’m tired. Can I use you as a pillow?”

Deciding to push it behind me, I obliged, allowing Shawn to rest his head on my shoulder. And within minutes we were both asleep.

We arrived back at the school a few hours later. I shook Shawn awake before hopping off the bus to find Chris before she left. And after saying goodbye to Chris, I headed back to the bus to grab my bag.

“Hey, Y/N,” I heard Gen’s voice from above. “I think it’s so cool that you came on the ski trip.” I stood up, my bag in hand and pasted on the most fake smile. “I hope you had fun.”

“Thanks, Gen.”

“I just think it’s so cool that you’re so understanding about my friendship with Shawn.” Gen’s eyes gleamed like she knew she was going to hit a nerve.

“What?” I asked confused.

“Well, I mean, most girlfriends wouldn’t be cool with their boyfriend staying in another girl’s room, but you are so understanding. That’s just really cool. You must trust Shawn a lot.”

“Yeah...trust.” I responded.

Gen reached towards her hair, “God, my hair just gets so greasy on bus rides.” Gen pulled her hair out of a ponytail to reveal a familiar scrunchie. The scrunchie I had given Shawn at the first party we went to.

“Where’d you get that?” I asked Gen.

“Oh, Shawn gave it to me a while ago,” She smiled. “It’s so cute, don’t you think? I just love the colors.” She pushed the scrunchie onto her wrist before looking up at me again, “Well, it was nice seeing you.”

And then she was gone. And...that was just a lot to process. Shawn, in Gen’s room. On the same night he said he wanted to have a real relationship. Shawn, giving my favorite scrunchie to Gen on the same night I’d told him not to lose it. Shawn, just fucking lying since the genesis of this whole joke of a relationship.

“Hey,” Shawn smiled as he walked up to me.

“Did you go to Gen’s room last night after I left?” I asked, giving no room for other discussion.

Shawn sputtered, “Yes, but I can explain.”

“And did you give her my favorite scrunchie?”

Shawn rubbed his neck uncomfortable, not answering.

“Is this all a joke to you, Shawn? Am I a joke to you?” My voice cracked at the end.

“No, no. God Y/N absolutely not.”

I took a step away from him before saying words that felt like could break my heart, “This is over, every part of this. Whatever this is. It’s done. I’m done.” It wasn’t until then, that I realized Gen was right. Despite everything, despite the relationship being fake, I actually did trust Shawn. I trusted him with secrets, and soft whispers, and memories. I’d trusted him, even knowing he was still wanting Gen, and he’d broken the trust.

“Just let me drive you home, Y/N, and I can explain everything.” Shawn said, anxiety lacing his words. “Please.” He reached for my arm, but I moved back again.

“I’d rather walk home. No I’d rather drive myself home than get in a car with you right now.”

tagged: @peacedolantwins2 @rosecth @justanotherfangurl272 @unhealthyobsessionwithmarvel @honestlygarbage

[tisfan]

Peas in a Pod (Chapter Five)

Title: Chapter 5 of Peas in a Pod Collaborators: @27dragons and @tisfan AO3 Link Square Filled: O1 - In Vino Veritas Ship: Bucky/Tony, Steve/Seb Rating: T Major Tags: confessions, drinking, background Nat/Scott, references to sex that happened Summary: Switching back, Bucky has a new song, Seb is almost late for class, and there’s a whole lot of questions at the after-concert party…   Word Count: 3,643 Created for @mcukinkbingo

Seb’s phone -- well, technically, it was Bucky’s phone -- went off at ridiculous o’clock Friday morning. Which was only ridiculous because Steve had been covering for him with the band, and they’d stayed out late Thursday night and partied like… well, like fucking rock stars, and it had been one of the best nights of Seb’s life, ending with an impressively long bout of making out and mutually masturbating.

Speaking of which, Steve was still laying over Seb’s legs. And the phone was still buzzing. Texts.

Meet early for the thing.

We need to switch back before the show. And I fail all your tests.

Also, I’d kinda like to have my credit card back.

And you need new shoes, you are a menace to arches everywhere.

Seb groaned and let his hand fall back to the bed. Tests. Yes. That... that was a thing he was supposed to be doing. And probably he should not go up on stage as Bucky; his impression was pretty good for a couple of rounds of karaoke, but he wasn’t going to be able to maintain it for the duration of a whole show. And he definitely didn’t think he could fake that synergy with the rest of the band that made a Winter Soldier performance so electrifying.

Fuck. He rubbed at his face and then prodded at Steve’s shoulder. He managed to unstick his teeth enough to mumble, “G’off.”

“Again?” Steve said. For a guy with short hair, Steve had some impressive bedhead. He nuzzled sleepily at Seb’s chest. “Thought we did that already?”

(more under the cut)

Seb pushed at Steve a little harder. Jesus, the guy was built like a tank. And nearly as heavy. “Off,” he clarified. “Clock’s striking midnight, time for Cinderella to go back to being a drudge.”

Steve huffed and rolled over, taking most of the blankets with him. “Yeah, I guess I knew this was coming.” He straightened to look at Seb with a wistful gaze. “You’re not gonna go into hiding and make me find you with a shoe, are you?”

“Well, I might,” Seb mused. “Bucky says I need new shoes anyway.” He waved his phone at Steve by way of explanation. “But nah, I mean. School’s right here in town, it’s not hard to find me. If, you know. You wanted to.” He’d halfway expected Steve to declare them done, a temporary road fling, had-a-great-time-let-me-call-you-a-cab sort of thing. Maybe a little more than half.

Steve didn’t really seem like that kind of guy, but he also didn’t seem like the kind of guy who could do that thing with his tongue, and Seb had been proven gloriously wrong on that count. And rock stars, well. Seb had heard stories, even met a few groupies.

“And if I wanted to?” Steve wondered. He was scratching at the back of his neck, making his hair stand out even more wildly. He eyed Seb for a long moment, taking in the suck-marks along Seb’s collarbone. “I mean, I know it’s weird, believe me, it’s-- you look like him, but you’re not him. I hope you don’t think I’m confused about that.”

Seb shook his head. He’d seen the way Steve and Bucky looked at each other on the stage, and during interviews and photoshoots and in fan photos. That wasn’t how Steve looked at Seb. “I’ll put my number in your phone,” he promised. “And, hey, I’ll see you tonight, right? Free tickets and a backstage pass.”

“That’s gonna be a little freaky,” Steve said. “Both of you in the same room? Bet we could convince Scott that we’d made cloning a real thing.” Steve got up, stretching and showing off that glorious body. The way he looked back to make sure Seb was watching -- yeah okay. “Join me in the shower? Or do you need to run?”

Seb glanced at the phone and did some quick calculations in his head. “I have some time.” He tossed it over his shoulder onto the pillows and threw the blankets aside to roll to his feet.

Bucky tapped his pencil against his thigh, impatient. Where the hell was Seb? He checked his watch again-- if Seb didn’t show up in the next fifteen minutes, Bucky was going to end up having to take the test for him, and that wasn’t going to end well for anyone.

He’d already said goodbye to Tony that morning. Tony rolled out of bed with a squeak of dismay, having a morning exam.

Finally, Bucky spotted his own signature look; hell, Seb looked better than he did. Probably had Loki fussing over him for days. Bucky ducked into the nearest unoccupied classroom -- there were lots, since exams were scheduled. “Sebastian! Here!”

Seb spotted him and increased his pace. “Hey,” he said, swinging into the room and closing the door behind him. “Sorry I cut it so close. It was kind of hard to tear myself away.” He stripped off Bucky’s leather jacket and draped it over the back of a chair, then pulled the layered shirts over his head all at once. “Here, give me my tee.”

He had a row of bruises along his collarbone. A couple of them showed distinct teethmarks.

“Taking advantage of the rockstar lifestyle?” Bucky asked. He was almost reluctant to part with the tee -- it still smelled like Tony’s cologne. “You have a good time?”

Sebastian blushed, red splotches that started in his cheeks and spread halfway down his chest. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. You?”

“Yeah, it was--- it was good. Too good, maybe.” He sucked in his gut as he tucked in the shirts. Peggy was going to kill him if he’d put on more than five pounds. But oh, god, it had been nice to eat pizza and ice cream, and sharing popcorn with Tony while they watched stupid movies.

Seb pulled on his own shirt with much less care and grinned as he propped one foot up on a chair to unfasten the boots. “Taking advantage of the hedonistic student lifestyle?” he teased.

The back of his neck heated-- anyone seeing them wouldn’t be able to tell them apart, he imagined. “Yeah. Something like that.” He had beard burn on his thighs, but Seb didn’t need to see that. He’d be short one pair of jeans, and Seb’s wardrobe could use some jazzing up, anyway. Oh, thank god, he’d missed his boots. “Remind me to send you a gift card or something-- you keep doing your Winter Soldier gig in these shitty shoes, you’re going to permanently damage your knees. Jesus, I sound like my mother.”

Seb laughed as he tugged on his sneakers. “You want to finance new shoes for me, be my guest. Shitty cheap shoes are about all I can afford.”

“Consider it a bonus,” Bucky said, lacing up. “I’ll see you tonight for the thing, but-- good luck on your tests, your history prof is kinda a hard-ass.”

“It’s in the bag,” Seb promised. “Shit, I still have to figure out who to bring with me tonight.” He pulled a face. “Everyone’s probably already got plans.”

Bucky made a face. He’s already fucked with Seb’s life enough, the man probably had a prospective, or-- “Bring Tony,” he suggested.

Seb grabbed his bookbag and heaved it up over one shoulder, then raised an eyebrow at Bucky. “Tony, really?” He made a face. “I guess. He’d be over the moon about it, probably.” Seb grinned. “Maybe he’ll do the writeup for our last lab in exchange.”

“The thing with the samples, and crystallization? Yeah, we did it last night,” Bucky said. That wasn’t all they’d done last night, but the actual chem work was probably all that Seb cared about. “Once we got the sample box back from Dum-E.”

“You did it at his place?” Seb’s eyes widened. “Brave of you. I usually make him meet me at the library or something.”

Definitely not the time or place to tell Seb what they’d done in the library stacks. “I like him, he’s funny,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Go, go, you’re gonna be late.” He took Seb’s wallet and phone and put them on the desk to tuck his own possessions back in his pockets.

Seb glanced up at the clock on the wall and yelped. “Right, going now!” He scooped up his stuff and bolted for the door without even pausing to put it away. “See you tonight!”

Bucky stared down at his phone. Steve waved at him from the lock-screen. It had been that picture for years and he hadn’t changed it. The tour would be over soon. Twelve more weeks, forty-one more shows. Ug. He pulled up his call list. “Hey, Luis, can you come get me, I’m over--” He glanced at the building. “By the university, near the quad. Thanks man.”

Bucky shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and headed out the door.

Need to need something-- the last bit of the song fell into place as he slumped across the lawn. There might be time. His thumbs moved over the phone rapidly. “Guys, new song, get your gear together and let’s jam it out, think we might be able to debut it tonight.”

Bucky tucked his phone away, ignoring the multiple buzzes as his band texted back, excited or confused, or just enthusiastic. He looked up into the sky and laughed. Yeah, this had been exactly what he needed.

The concert had been amazing, and only somewhat touched with the melancholy of knowing the band would be gone again tomorrow. Seb had put his number in Steve’s phone, as promised, but hadn’t gotten so much as a “see ya” text. Well, he’d probably been busy getting ready for the show.

Tony, as predicted, had been enthusiastically grateful for the invite, though he’d been a little strange on the subway to the concert hall -- not his usual puppy-like eager-to-please self. Not that he’d been standoffish, just... it seemed like Tony had finally let go of that crush. Which was nice; it felt like Seb could actually breathe properly around the guy now. He wondered what Bucky had said or done to fix that.

And during the concert, when they’d debuted their brand-new song -- first time anywhere, Bucky had told the screaming audience -- Tony had seemed less excited and more... overwhelmed, maybe? Overcome by the song’s sweet longing, maybe a bit more than it really called for. But hey, Seb had never gone to a concert with Tony before; maybe that was just how he was.

By the time the encores had been played and the band had left the stage for the last time, Seb was buzzing with energy and -- he had to admit -- eager to see Steve again. He caught Tony’s eye and nodded toward the stage door, and they started to make their way toward it, backstage passes firmly in hand.

Seb recognized the bodyguard, Luis, who blinked at him, but took the passes. “Come on, right though here, homie, like we gotta check you for weapons an’ stuff, it’s just procedure, you know what it be like, right? My cousin, he--” Luis went through his speech, patting them both down. “All right, come on this way. Tash an’ Scott are in the green room. Soldier’s signing some autographs out back, he should be in soon. There’s beer and food-- do not touch Tash’s cupcakes. She will break your neck.” The way Luis laughed, Seb couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

“Where’s Steve?” he couldn’t help asking. He craned his neck, looking around hopefully.

“Gym,” Luis said. “He does that thing, you know, man, when he’s-- thinking?” The bodyguard made a few half-hearted punching motions.

Luis opened the green room door, where Scott was entertaining a laughing Nat by inhaling helium out of the balloons and talking in a squeaky voice.

“Oh, wow--” Nat said, turning in the chair and staring at Seb. “He wasn’t even kidding, was he?”

“Uh.” Seb shoved his hand through his hair. “He told you guys, huh?” He held out a hand. “Sebastian. It’s... it’s just amazing to meet you.” Steve had mostly kept him out of the way of the rest of the band over the last week, lest they figure out the switch, so he was, at least mostly, meeting them for the first time. Sort of.

“Yeah, he said you won a contest,” Nat said. She absently licked icing off the top of her cupcake. “Winter Soldier impersonator. Can’t imagine why anyone would want to be Barnes. Especially not tonight.” She pulled a bottle of vodka out from where she had it tucked between her and the chair. “Drink, boys?”

Scott shook Seb’s hand, several times. “Yeah, you do, you look just like him, this is so cool, so cool, and… I’m shaking your hand too long, sorry, it’s just kinda a mind-fuck, you know, I mean, look at you.” He turned to Tony, still shaking Seb’s hand. “Are you seeing this guy? How does it not-- pooof, just blow your mind?”

Tony laughed good-naturedly. “It kinda did,” he admitted, “but I’ve had a couple of months to get used to it, I guess.” He reached for the offered vodka and took a swig. “What did you mean, not wanting to be Bucky tonight?” he asked Natasha.

“He and Steve are fighting,” Nat said, carelessly. “It will be ugly and long, and we are all, you would say, shoved in a tour bus like sardines for the next two months. I need new headphones.”

Scott finally let go of Seb’s hand. “Happens, when you’re living on top of each other all the time,” Scott said. “So, what’d you think of the new song? Buck was all crazy this afternoon; like he dodged us all week and suddenly he’s back with this amazing song, like, I’m sure I flubbed it-- I am not the best drummer in the world--”

“-- You’re not even the best drummer in the band--” Nat piped up, then laughed as Scott threw a handful of popcorn at her.

“It was good,” Seb said. “I really liked it. Could maybe use a more upbeat bridge, though. I dunno, you guys are the experts. But I’m definitely looking forward to the new album.” He glanced over at Tony, expecting agreement, or maybe an argument about the bridge thing.

Tony was flushing again, and taking another swig of the vodka. “I loved it,” he said softly. “I thought it was perfect.”

Scott started to wax poetic about the song, some of the complicated riff-patterns, because Bucky was obviously some sort of fucking masochist, when the door slammed open, letting in a sweaty Steve Rogers, dressed in form fitting compression shorts, a tank, and his hands taped up for boxing, followed closely by Bucky, who grabbed a handful of Steve’s shirt. “No, you wait-- oh. You’re here.”

Seb’s mouth had gone dry at the sight of Steve dressed like that. “Uh, yes.”

“Seemed pointless to sit around and watch everyone else file out of the hall,” Tony added, cheeky, then bit his lip, looking between Bucky and Steve. “Should we go?”

“Yes-” “-no.” It was hard to tell who had said what, and both Steve and Bucky glared at each other.

“I don’t want to argue in front of--” Steve glanced at Seb, then took in Tony standing there looking stunned. “People who aren’t involved.”

Bucky took a deep breath. “But, uh… he is. Involved, that is.”

“That’s because it was your dumb idea--” Steve burst out, then shut his mouth with a snap.

“What, Steve? What exactly was my dumb idea?” Bucky was right up in Steve’s face. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Scott glanced at Seb. “Do you know what’s going on, because I don’t know what’s going on.”

Nat snorted. “You never know what’s going on.”

“You don’t have to rub it in--”

“You like it when I rub it in,” Nat teased.

Seb lost track of their bickering, because he had a sinking feeling he did know what was going on. “Shit.” Steve had told him that the relationship with Bucky was in name only, just to keep the fans happy for the rest of the tour, but... what if Bucky didn’t quite feel the same way? What if Bucky was mad at Steve because of Seb? “Oh, hell, is this... is this my fault?”

“Why the hell would it be your fault?” Nat asked, and at that, everyone turned around to look at her. “What? He said it, not me.”

Steve made an exasperated face, throwing his hands up. “We-- you-- what the hell did you go and write a love song for? Did you think I wouldn’t know? I--”

“It was for me,” Tony said breathlessly. His eyes were locked on Bucky. “Wasn’t it? I thought I recognized that riff. It was the one you were humming--” He broke off, glancing around as if only just realizing that other people were in the room.

Scott raised his hand. “Can I ask a question?”

Nat rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to raise your hand, Scott. This isn’t second grade.”

“Wait, what?” Steve whirled on Tony. “Who the hell are you?”

Bucky moved, suddenly between Steve and Tony. “Leave him alone, this-- this is between us.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Seb asked.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to ask!” Scott complained.

Tony glanced back at Seb and gave him a sheepish shrug. “Cat’s out of the bag,” he said. “Might as well tell the whole truth.”

“You knew?” Seb demanded.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Please. Did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell it wasn’t you when you started being so nice?”

That stung. “I’m... I’m nice,” Seb said.

Steve made a thoughtful, humming noise. “I’ll say…”

Nat’s hand went up. “Now I have a question.”

“Please,” Tony scoffed. “You barely tolerated me. I get it, I do, but you weren’t nice. Not until this week.”

“Besides, I told him,” Bucky said. “He was freaking out about it. You forgot to mention that your lab partner was the hottest thing this side of Venus. So, he, uh, he helped cover for me.”

“So, you’re not--” Steve held up one finger “-- not actually falling in love with me?”

“No!” Bucky looked almost offended by that. “I mean--”

“Yes,” Seb said, and when everyone looked at him again, he just smiled and shrugged. “Might as well admit it, right? Since the cat’s out of the bag?” How much vodka had he had?

“I wrote the song for Tony,” Bucky admitted. “I haven’t… I mean. Steve, you and I--”

“It was never going to work,” Steve finished. “Not enough room in the bed for both of our egos, right?”

Bucky snorted. “I’m amazed you can fit in the room with your ego.” He flashed a glance at Seb. “The bruises? I thought I recognized Steve’s teeth marks.”

Seb felt his face getting hot. “You didn’t ask,” he said defensively.

Scott threw himself on the sofa plaintively, “Why is everyone getting laid around here that’s not me?”

Nat sat up a little in the chair. “You have not asked.”

Bucky held out his hand, like he was offering to waltz with Tony. “I don’t know if I can last out the tour,” he admitted. “It’s not hard to pretend when nothing’s real. But I don’t know if I can do it when something… might be.”

Tony took Bucky’s hand and stepped closer, almost crowding into Bucky’s side.

Seb tried to make that make sense in his head. Bucky fucking Barnes and Tony Stark? What even the hell had happened? He swallowed and looked back at Steve. “He might have a point.”

“I wasn’t-- I wasn’t going to worry about it if it was just me,” Steve said, then corrected himself. “Just us. If someone saw me with you-- no one would know. But--”

“Christ, really?” Bucky demanded. “Did you know--”

“What--”

“Did you know, did you know he wasn’t me, when you-- whatever it is you did?”

“I’m not mooning over you, Buck,” Steve said. “I knew it wasn’t you the instant I kissed him. You don’t… you don’t kiss like that. This man could place in an Olympic event for kissing.”

“You know, this is great, this is wonderful, you’re all very cute, and you’re talking it out, getting your feelings out on the table, that’s… that’s really, really great. I approve. And… while I’m stepping all over your moment here, I’m just going to ask you to excuse us, but it seems like you’ve both found someone new, that’s amazing, Darcy’s going to kill all of us, but--” Scott said, putting one arm around Steve’s shoulders and one around Bucky’s. “Now that we’re all done with the bullshit, fake relationship shit, I think I’m going to ask our keyboardist if she’d like to boink like bunnies with me, and we’ll get out of your hair.”

“‘Boink like bunnies’?” Nat’s eyebrows disappeared into her hair. “Really?”

“I mean, obviously when I actually ask you, I’m going to be all suave and romantic,” Scott told her.

She considered him cooly for a moment, then rolled to her feet. “All right.”

“Well,” Bucky said, watching them leave. “That… was unexpected. So… uh. I’m gathering from all this, that-- he… and you-- and me an’ Tony... did this work out for everyone? I think, it did?”

Seb smiled and tucked himself up under Steve’s arm. “Yeah, I think it did.”

Rolling Stone Magazine

No, You’re Not Seeing Double

Winter Soldier front man, Bucky Barnes, and long term partner, Steve Rogers, have broken up-- not the band, but their relationship. But don’t be sad, we have the latest scoop on their new sweethearts, and a story that’s sure to give you faith that… anything could happen. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #166

“you are my slave, my little fucking disaster.”

Are your eyes the same color as your mom’s or your dad’s? Neither's. Are you afraid of elevators? YEP. When was the last time you pulled an all-nighter? What was the reason behind it? How did you feel the next day? No less than a month ago when I was binging someone on YouTube...  Maybe Shane? Which of the following areas is going best for you right now: finances, work, love life, social life or education? Why do you say this? Lol only my love life is going well. All the other categories are on fire rn. :^) Have you ever heard of somebody doing something disrespectful to somebody’s grave? Or seen vandalism on a grave/gravestone? No, thank goodness. What is something you do differently, depending on your mood, environment, etc. (could be anything from what kind of outfit you choose to how you react when somebody irritates you)? Well, dress, for one. I'm at home, I'm permanently in pjs. I try not to swear around kids. Lots of other stuff... This question is pretty broad. What was the last song to bring out strong emotions in you? I'm not sure. Metaphorically speaking, what was the last thing to crush you? Finding out my cousin can die at the snap of a finger. You are about to die; what do you do with your worldly possessions? Give 'em to family and charities. Do you take vitamins daily? No. Do you know anyone that’s handicapped? Probably. Do you know any illegal immigrants? I did, but he got deported after he fucked up with getting involved in crime. Do you own any formal gowns/tuxes? I have one black dress I'd wear to certain occasions if I could actually fit in it, which I definitely could not currently. Can you sit for long periods of time? NO. Pretty sure my surgery caused a sensitive nerve, because afterwards, I couldn't and still can't sit very long without getting up being horrendous and slow. Do you have any cavities? Just one I'm scheduled to get fixed next month. What’s the most attractive thing on the opposite sex?
 Why do I like shoulder blades so much like why Do you regularly experience pain in any part of your body? My knees constantly hurt. Wish I knew why. Last place you flew to on a plane? Chicago, and I'm going again real soon. :') Does Europe or Asia sound more appealing to you for a vacation? Ugh both. But it's more likely I'll see Europe. Who was the last person to give you a hickey? If ever. He Who Shall Not Be Named. What is your lover's middle name? Jane. Who was the last person to flirt with you, other than your lover? I don't think anyone. What’s your favorite type of sushi? Never tried it, not interested. What’s your favorite patriotic song? All that's coming to mind is "Courtesy of the Red, White, And Blue" by Toby Kieth. It's pretty catchy. Have you ever read a book about a character in a psych ward? No, but that'd actually be really interesting and maybe relatable to me... though that could also prove dangerous and triggering, too. Have you ever been in a mental hospital as a patient? Five or six times, I stopped paying attention at four. Whose place did you last chill at and with who? Colleen's. Have you ever been lead on? I don't think so. Have you ever slept with a member of the opposite sex without having sex? Well yeah, we were in a long-term relationship, we were just about an old married couple just like "nah son we going to bed." Sleeping with each other was enough. What would you say if someone asked you to get high right now? Peasant, I won the D.A.R.E. writing contest in the 5th grade, I say hugs not drugs. Has someone close to you died of a murder? No. How often do you brush your hair? Every time after a shower and before I go out. Short hair makes caring for it so much easier. Did you ever listen to Avril Lavigne when you were younger? Fuck yeah I did. What are three things you refuse to ever do? Prostitute, abuse someone, do drugs. Do you have any medication that you keep with you at all times? Yes, anxiety attack med. What’s something that’s much more difficult than a lot of people realize? Putting on and maintaining a happy face with depression. Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No. Do you typically do your make up the same each time? Or do you like to change it up often? It's pretty much the same. What is your favorite breakfast food? Cinnamon rolls. Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding? Yeah. When you help someone do you ever think, “What’s in it for me?” Check your heart if you actually ask yourself this. Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? No. Have you ever blocked someone on Facebook before? Yeah. Tattoos on your lower back - cute or trashy? Neither, reliant on just placement. I couldn't care less where you get tatted, the location doesn't *automatically* make something (un)attractive. Also, try to convince me how the placement of a tat is "trashy." What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever cried about? There's no telling. Ever faked an orgasm? No. Done something illegal to your car? N/A What scars on your body do you have? Oh, boy... I scar so easily. My worst ones are on my shins from scratching the fuck out of them after shaving, I have two scars from stitches, various cat scratches, a scar from bumping into the side of Venus' cage, one from accidentally scratching my hand pretty bad while washing my feet in the shower (don't even ask how I accomplished that), faint self-harm ones.  I have way too many. Ever date anybody in middle school? One guy. Puppylove. Ever written your number in a public bathroom or a school text book? If so, did anyone actually call you? No. Ever had an infection of any kind? Yeah. Ears, a piercing, a cyst... probably more. Oh, and I have inactive MRSA, if that counts. Would you prefer cherry Cola or vanilla Cola? Omggggggg, gimme cherry. Vanilla Coke is gross. Have you ever tried to draw an anime version of yourself? No. How do you feel when you are ignored? I handle this worse than the average person. No one likes it, but it makes me feel especially unimportant, annoying, and unworthy of any attention, because something must be "wrong" with me. I guess it's maybe an AvPD thing, like I interpret it as rejection. Name a site that you visit everyday. KM. I'm like an overprotective mom of it that has to ensure everything is fine. Have you ever led the prayer at dinnertime? If not, do you want to? I have on Thanksgiving. Would you rather play an instrument or be the singer? If I was actually confident in my voice, sing. Turkey or ham for Thanksgiving? Turkey is too dry, so I was all about spiral ham. Do you celebrate Black Friday? I just shop online if there's a good deal I come across. What song are you listening to right now? "Army Of The Night" by Powerwolf. Have you ever been bitten by an animal? Nipped, sure. Then occasionally a cat would play too rough. Colons or equal signs for your smiley face’s eyes? Colons. At what point were your parents most disappointed in you? I don't know. Have you ever had a tarot reading or palm reading? No, I don't believe they're in any way factual. If you’re no longer in school, what is something you miss about it? If you’re still in school, what’s something you think you’re going to miss about it? I miss at least somewhat of a social life. What is the greatest amount of money you’ve spent on a concert ticket? How much would you be willing to spend to see your favorite band/artist? Idk how much the Alice Cooper tickets were. To see my absolute favorite... maybe $300? Do you use your turn signals when you’re driving? I'll judge you the moment I find out you don't. When you play Monopoly, what game piece do you choose to use for going around the board? The dog. What books (if any) have you read more than once? Meerkat Manor: Flower of the Kalahari and Because of Winn-Dixie off the top of my head. What is something you like to think about while you fall asleep? Happy thoughts. Focus on something good that happened and stuff like that. How long do you think you could tolerate going without showering? There's absolutely no way I could go beyond three. Even after two days, I feel pretty yucky. If you had the power to instantly transform someone’s life (for the better), who would you choose to use this on? My mom. She's never happy and probably doesn't remember what it's like to not be a stressed mess. Does it bother you when surveys ask about political or cultural topics that could possibly be controversial? No. Does someone’s view on homosexuality affect how you feel about them in any way? Yup. How about someone’s view on religion? It depends on which and how hardcore you are about it. Do you wear Crocs? Set them aflame. What’s your favorite thing to have on your bed? Sara. Don't even mean that sexually, it just means I get to cuddle with her lmao. What’s the nicest text in your inbox say? Certainly something saved from Sara. Who was your last missed call? Vocational rehab. The person you have feelings for says he/she wants to have sex, you say? Well first if she was absolutely certain about wanting to. Then I'd be all for it. Do you know how many people your best friend has had sex with? None. KFC or Popeye’s? I don't like fried chicken, like at all. If you could have a neon light sign that said anything you wanted, or looked like anything you wanted, what would it be? I deadass want a retro-style, blue one that reads "but be very Jim" to confuse the unenlightened. What was the last thing to malfunction/break in your house? Was it fixed? Something was wrong with the washer. I think it's been fixed? Or Mom's doing laundry elsewhere. What was the last uncomfortable situation you were in? I was getting my knees x-rayed and of course they needed a billion angles, and I couldn't totally understand what the woman was telling me (very echoey), so I just totally ragdolled and let her do whatever with my legs, but she needed me to readjust a lot and just ugh it was awkward and I felt very annoying. Do you think it is awkward for people over sixteen to have sleepovers? No????? Are you good about sharing your belongings? Are there certain items [aside from obvious things like your underwear] that you wouldn’t be willing to share with anyone? It depends on what it is and who you are. Something I'd share with no one... idk. Will you cry at your wedding? I will get raccoon eyes the moment I see her. What was the last thing you sang? "Where The Wild Wolves Have Gone" by Powerwolf. Gummy bears or Gummy worms? Worms. What’s your middle name(s)? Marie Catherine. If your last ex said they hate you, you say? I wouldn't know what to say; I'd be pretty damn hurt. We've been friends since high school and he's the last "real" friend I have irl. Only one I ever occasionally see, only one who checks up on me. What do you struggle with the most? Anxiety. It affects so many areas of my life. Are you good at giving advice? I don't think I'm bad. Especially if you give me a moment to think on the topic. What do you want to change about your looks? W E I G H T Do any of your pajama pants have holes in them? There's quite a lot in my Batman pair. Old. What do you get cravings for the most? Soda, probably. Do you enjoy watching vlogs? Depends on the person and what I feel up to watching. What is your favorite Halloween candy? Nothing really exclusive to the holiday. Where was your senior prom held? The local community college. What was the theme of your senior prom? Don't remember, actually. Do you know what you want the theme of your wedding to be? If so, what would it be? Sara babe can we do gothic please I'll marry you harder. Did you have low self-esteem growing up? No, it became an actual problem in high school. If you’ve ever had your hair highlighted, what color highlights did you get? Purple and red are the only highlights I've gotten, I think. What color Christmas lights do you like best on your tree? ALL THE COLORS. What do you put on top of your Christmas tree? We tend to alternate between a star and angel. How many proms did you go to? Two. How many boyfriends have you had in your life? Meh, answered this in enough surveys, so I'll just say only one was serious. How many girlfriends have you had in your life? One. Have you ever had a “friend crush” on someone? OH YEAH, I've learned that I have more than once. Think I like someone like that, then nope. Were you ever homeschooled? I was homebound at the end of 8th grade. At what age did you start puberty? Idk. I just know I was normal. Have you ever made a wreath? No. Who was your first roommate? My then-boyfriend, his friend, and his then-girlfriend. What color hair did your first crush have? Brown. Do you know how to change a tire? No. Have you ever passed out? Once, came very close on I think two or three other occasions. Do you prefer notepad or wordpad? Wordpad. Do you eat raw cookie dough? I will risk salmonella for that shit. How old is the last person you kissed? 20. Where does your best friend live? Illinois. How many people have you truly fallen IN love with? Two. Has anybody ever called you a tease? Oh boy. I fucking live off teasing. What about kinky? I was too much of a shy sub for him to ever see that side ha. Where was your mom born? Queens, NY. Have you ever seen your siblings naked? My two immediate sisters, anyway. What do people call you? Brittany, Britt, or Ozz, mostly. What are you doing this weekend? BITCH I'M GETTING MY MARK TATTOO. I made $365 + $20 sitting fee for the wedding shoot so guess what I'm treating myself to. Do you owe anyone money? Who? What for? My old college. Do you like people? Eh. Hard question for me to answer. I think I'm neutral towards the morality of humanity in general, but what's for sure is I don't trust the majority. Do you think you look better with a tan or without? Without. It's all I really know lmao. Would you ever share your most embarrassing moment in a YouTube video? That'd be flagged fast lmao. Regardless, n o p e. What’s your favorite hair color for girls? PASTEL COLORS!!!!! I like dyed hair on anyone okay. What color is your recliner? Don't have one. Do you wear makeup every day, or only on special occasions? Whenever I feel like it, regardless of occasion. What helps you take your mind off your problems? Talk to Sara, RP, watch YouTube... Does your first crush know you liked him/her? Definitely not. Did you ever think your house was haunted? I think my most recent might have been? But idk. Do you have any supernatural gifts or abilities? No. What does your trick-or-treat bag or bucket look like? N/A sadly. :c Do you celebrate Christmas? Yeah. What season would you want to have engagement photos taken in? As much as I hate the season, spring, with l o t s of flowers and sunshine!! You’re in line at Taco Bell, what’s your order? I only ever get a cheese quesadilla and fiesta potatoes. Has anyone ever taken your clothes off of you before? Yeah. Have you ever stayed up at night waiting for someone to call/text you back? Maybe? Have you ever touched a dead body? Dead pets, yes. I might've touched my old babysitter's face or something at her open-casket wake, idr. Have you ever had a real tea party? Or been to one? No. Just the make-believe ones Nicole would want to do as a kid with her Disney set. How do you feel when a mostly unheard of band (or tv show, movie, etc.) that you love suddenly starts to gain popularity? Happy for 'em! Just don't change your style for the sake of appeasing the masses. *coughmaroon5cough* When was the last time you listened to new music? Recently. Gotten into Spotify a bit. Do you think it is strange when a couple says “we are pregnant” rather than “I am pregnant” or “my girlfriend is pregnant”? No, I actually think it's sweet. You're in it together. What word spelled out looks weird to you? "Acquaintance." I can't spell it either; fucked it up first time. Do you require “closure” after things like break-ups or do you move on easily? I need closure. Is there a genre of movie that you just can’t watch? I'm not that into action. Have you ever been on a hot air balloon? No. What was the last seriously painful thing that happened to you? Getting my tragus re-pierced was actually pretty rough since apparently I have thick cartilage and it went through scar tissue. What’s the last rude thing someone said to you? Idk. What does your class ring look like? I didn't buy one. List ten careers you think you’d find interesting. Oh, jeez. Ten? Particularly interesting? I'll try: Paleontologist, biologist, cryptozoologist, zoologist, musician, YouTuber, dancer, taxidermist, snake morph breeder, and uhhhh. Idk. Do you know what you want to do with your life? Yeah. Do you believe in Judgment Day? No. What is the name of your YouTube channel? My current one is 0zzkat. What was the first social media site you joined? MySpace. Where would you most like to do a 24-hour challenge in? List five places. Bitch tbh I don't think I could do any alone lmao. But I'd probably find an old asylum scariest/most interesting. What’s your favorite part of Chinatown? Never been. What are some jobs people in your family have had? List five. Disney World employee, professional cake decorator, mammographer, special ed assistant teacher, and dance instructor. Which Power Ranger was your favorite? Wasn't into that. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? Whale sharks oof. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? Buy me that Reese's Blast thing from Sonic and I'll be your slave for a day. Do you believe in aliens? I actually do by now. If you were ever sent to prison what crime would you have committed? I've legitimately worried about me killing someone in self-defense but it being ruled as murder or something. @_@ Do you have a picture of you kissing someone? Yeah. Do you have a favorite pillow you always sleep with? No. When was the last time you slept in someone else’s bed? When I was at Sara's. Out of all of your friends who have you gotten in the worst fight with? That I still associate with, Sara. We were lil shits. :'D Who was the last person to have to deal with you having an attitude? Mom. If you had $100 dollars, how would you spend it? Save it to get my laptop fixed. You were given the opportunity to get a new cellular device, what do you choose? Some older iPhone. I don't need something needlessly expensive, just one that isn't actual garbage. Which of your classes in school is most capable of killing a good mood for you? Math was. How nice of a person are you, honestly? Tbfh I think I'm typically too nice. I'm getting better at taking less b.s. now tho. Ever physically fought with member of the opposite sex? No. Ever kissed a friend’s crush? No. Do you swallow gum when you’re finished? Only if I really want it gone but I don't have access to a trashcan. Very rarely does that happen because I feel funny trying to swallow it. Ever had a best friend of the opposite sex? Well when I was dating Jason I considered him my best friend of course, but if you don't count s/os, no. Have you ever kissed in the snow? Probably. Is there someone that you believe you will always be attracted to? Yeah. Do you have something in your room that you never want to get ruined? I would legitimately break down if something happened to my shiny pebble from Holly Hill. I got it on my "graduation;" it symbolized how something beautiful came from harsh conditions or something like that. It was passed around by my teachers and "classmates" for each person to wish me well and just in general say all they wanted to about me while holding it. With how that place truly became my messiah, I couldn't lose that thing, ever. Have you ever made a difference in someone’s life? I'd think so. My parents especially, obviously. Next time you will kiss someone on the lips? OCTOBER 3RD APPROACHES. Do you think dances (prom, homecoming, etc.) are fun or lame? They're overrated. You pay a lot to look nice just to stand around with shit music blaring and being totally unable to hear each other. I truly don't know why I went to two. What was the last thing you tried for the first time? Ummm blue cheese? What was the last thing you learned? Oh jeez, this should be easy with the videos I've been binging lately. Nothing impressive. How often do you visit your relatives? Like, never ever. When was the last time someone admitted to having somewhat of an attraction to you? Sara. What was the last wedding you went to like? Any pictures you’d like to post? It was beautiful and intimate, and it was an absolute honor to be the photographer. I don't feel like fetching pictures, but they're on my photography site and FB page. Has anyone slapped you across the face before? If so, why? No. Do you prefer to have more or less in common with your significant other? More. Would you take a shot of heroin for a million dollars? No, not worth it. Why don’t you talk to your ex anymore? Aaron: Drifted apart. Juan: He's a reckless fool I didn't want to associate with, partly out of fear of his rep, too. Jason: He wanted nothing to do with me.  He claimed it was for my own sake as he didn't want me to develop false hope, but who knows if that was the sole reason. Tyler: He was way too obsessive and wouldn't leave me alone. I still talk to Girt.

[h-styles-babes]

No Control | Chapter Twenty-Five

Summary: 

Micky Bennett: college student, loyal friend, aspiring nurse, One Direction fan, Harry Styles enthusiast. Her best friend, Trevor, wins tickets to a show in New Jersey with meet and greet passes. Micky expects a quick photo op with the boys and a great night at the concert with her best friend. What she gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

To read previous chapters, you can go here.

*Please feel free to reblog and send feedback. It’s much appreciated :)*

*Gif is not mine.*

TWENTY-FIVE

When Harry and I meet for lunch on Wednesday at a cozy little cafe halfway between our two homes, he hands me a printed out itinerary. As I look it over, I see we have a flight leaving at ten on Friday night, the last flight that goes out to England. I let him know that I get off of work at eight, so I’ll just head to the airport straight after. He promises to send a car to pick me up so I don’t have to worry about finding him at the airport.

While we’re eating, some fans come up to Harry and ask for photos, apologizing for interrupting our lunch. Harry assures that it’s fine, and I can tell by the shift of their eyes in my direction that they recognize me from the media stir that happened last year, so I keep my face tilted down into my phone. It’s a pretty day, though, a little chilly with a light breeze, so I’ve got a knee-length sundress on with a very busy print to disguise the baby bump in public, as well as a light tan knit cardigan to keep the chill out. I’m hoping the dress and the cardigan wrapped around my middle are enough to disguise anything. 

I smile politely and, as always, offer to take the photo for them, which they thank me for. I snap a few, hoping there was at least one good one in there, although I’m almost positive I got one of them giving a side-eyed look to one another. I’m sure it’s about me, but I disregard it as best I can and just hand them back the phone I got given a few moments before. I can tell without even looking that they take a few pictures of me as they walk away, trying to be sneaky but failing miserably. 

“Sorry about that,” Harry apologizes as they walk away.

I shrug. “Not a big deal, Harry. I don’t mind. As long as they have enough decency to not talk shit about me to my face, I’m okay.”

He shoots me a quizzical look. “Why would they talk shit about you?”

“Really?” I deadpan, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Aside from being associated with me, I mean,” he corrects.

“Did you not see the frenzy my life was immediately after we got back from England in August? Paparazzi everywhere, people constantly talking about me in the media. I don’t even want to know what social media looked like, but Trev assured me it was bad. Fans were furious. I was public enemy number one, as far as they were concerned. I learned to ignore it.”

Harry groans and rubs his hands over his face. “Everything’s gonna blow up when people realize you’re pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah,” I agree easily. “It’s gonna be a fucking circus.”

“And even if we can keep the pregnancy secret, I’m not tiptoeing around with my Little Bean for the rest of my life.”

I smile warmly at his nickname for the baby and his insistence at not keeping her a secret when she’s finally here. Not that I want my daughter raised in the spotlight, but I don’t want Harry to never see her or take her to public places because he’s trying to keep her an absolute secret. No little kid should be raised as a secret; it’s no way to have a healthy upbringing. 

“Well, how hard can it be to keep a pregnancy secret for eleven-ish weeks?” “I’m gonna be a dad in eleven weeks,” he breathes out. “That’s fucking insane.” “I’ve had nearly six months and I still can’t fucking believe it.”

Friday, after a long shift at work, I’m getting ready to meet the car Harry’s sent for me, when there’s a tap at the locker room door. I’m the only one in here and I’ve only just kicked off my shoes, so I’m not concerned when Dr. Gallagher, the oncology attending, peeks his head into the door. 

“Micky?”

“Yeah?” I respond, tilting around a row of lockers to make myself known to him. He smiles when he sees me. He’s in his early forties and is a relatively good-looking man with shiny blonde hair that hides whatever graying he may have now. The kids love him and he’s always lovely whenever he talks to us nurses. He’s one of the most loved doctors in the hospital, and for good reason. 

“There’s a man here to see you. Said his name was Harry.” Gallagher shrugs with a wide eyed look, like he doesn’t recognize anything about the man waiting outside.

I chuckle. “Friend of mine,” I assure. “Tell him he can come in.”

I hadn’t expected Harry to actually come here when he said he’d send a car and meet me at the airport. So, when Dr. Gallagher backs out of the room and Harry replaces him, I greet him with, “What are you doing here? Thought we were just gonna meet at the airport.” 

“You’re on my way to the airport anyway. Thought it was silly to take two cars when we didn’t have to,” he shrugs. 

I nod and pull my scrub shirt over my head. I have a white tank top on underneath, so I leave it on as I pull a red, baggy jumper over my head. “How cold’s it been in England?”

“Been topping out at around seven degrees, according to Mum.”

I grimace at him as I shimmy out of my trousers, not liking the sound of that. “I’ve been spoiled by California weather too much. But at least it means I can hide behind jumpers five times my size and leggings.” I say this as I pull my own on, nearly falling over as I’m stood on one foot. 

Harry rushes forward, grabbing at my elbow to keep me upright. “Careful, love. Carrying precious cargo.”

Given the circumstances, I’m honestly a bit surprised at how quickly Harry has taken to accepting that he’s going to be a father in a few short months. I thought he’d be more pissed at me for not trying harder to get ahold of him, and though we haven’t spoken about it further, I can tell he is truly over it, for some reason. Maybe it’s because we were facing circumstances that were outside of our control or he’s really in a place in his life where he’s able to roll with the punches a bit more, but I’m thankful for it. I’m silently waiting for the other shoe to drop, just because I can’t help but think that there’s going to come a point where he blows his lid, but I’m enjoying the peace at the moment. 

“The belly has thrown off my center of gravity,” I huff, plopping down on a bench to pull on my boots. “I’ve been so clumsy the last couple weeks. It’s awful. I have a feeling it’s only gonna get worse, too.”

“Only a couple more months,” he tries to encourage.

I deadpan as I go to grab my bag from my locker. “You’re not the one pregnant, Styles.”

He holds up his hands in defense. “I know. Pregnancy sucks.” Harry sees me grab the strap of my bag and rushes forward. “Lemme get that.” He gently brushes my hand away and replaces it with his own, hauling my duffle bag over his shoulder. He offers his hand to me. “C’mon, don’t wanna be late.”

For the first three hours of our flight, both Harry and I sleep. I’ve never flown first class before, and it’s honestly a giant step up from coach. There’s so much room and the seats are like private little cubbies that keep all the other passengers out. The flight attendants don’t bother us after take off, since both Harry and I fall asleep almost instantly. When I do wake, I catch an attendant to ask her whereabouts we are. She answers that we’re flying over the east coast, nearly to the Atlantic ocean, and that there’s about another seven hours until we land at Manchester with a smile. I thank her and she asks if I’d like anything, so I just ask for a bottle of water, when she gets a chance, as well as one for Harry. She nods and heads off. 

My body clock tells me it’s about one in the morning, but my nap helped. I hope the jet lag won’t be too much of a bitch during our short trip home and then upon returning, but you can’t always know for sure. I’m sure I’ll hate myself for a bit when we get back, but what can you do?

Harry doesn’t wake until after the attendant comes back to drop off the waters. He rubs his eyes with his knuckles as he looks over at me, smiling sleepily. I hand him the water bottle and he nods in thanks as he twists the top off. 

“Where are we?” he asks after he swallows a few sips.

“Just flying over the east coast. About seven more hours, now.”

He nods and sets his bottle in the cup holder beside his seat. 

We fall into a silence, mostly because the rest of the cabin is either asleep or doing quiet activities. Since I don’t want to turn on a light and disturb anyone around us, I forgo reading the book I brought along and instead put in my headphones to listen to some music. I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes, trying to prepare myself for facing Harry’s family again. Under normal circumstances, I’d be happy to be seeing Anne and Robin again, since they were so lovely the first time I met them, but this situation is so out of the ordinary and not exactly pleasant, that I’m nearly terrified to be seeing them again. Anne is so kind and loving and amazing, and I don’t ever want to see her upset with me, but I’m almost anticipating it at this point. No mother reacts well when her son tells her that he got a girl he knew for a week pregnant and she’s now twenty-nine weeks pregnant. It’s just not going to be good. 

Harry sits beside me, using what little light is in the cabin to write in his journal. I only dance at him briefly when I feel him shifting beside me to get into the bag he has stowed under the seat in front of him, but I do a double take when I see the journal set out on the drop down tray.

“Is that the journal I got you?” I ask quietly. 

He jumps a little, obviously not having expected my voice. “Thought you were asleep again,” he tells me, giving me a small smile. He bookmarks his place with his fingers and flips to the front of the journal, revealing my own handwriting to me. “Yeah, it is.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t blown through it already.”

“I like to finish the ones I’m on before starting new ones. I just started this one up around Christmas. This one’s mostly personal songs.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You planning an album already, Styles?”

He smirks. “Not right away, but eventually, yeah.” 

I smile at him and lean back in my seat. “I look forward to it, then.” 

He smiles at me and goes back to writing, his head dipped low over the pages. He writes a lot quicker than he speaks, his hand flying across the paper quickly. I assume it’s from all the time he’s spent writing quick blurbs and signing his name to fans, but it’s fascinating to watch, wondering what the words are that he pens out in ink. I can only imagine at least some of what he writes about right now has to do with our current situation, but I don’t really want to know what he has to say. I also don’t want to hear about it for the first time when I hear his album for the first time, but I can’t really have it both ways. I’m sure not everything is going to be positive, and I just have to accept that. 

We sit together, no words passing between us for about an hour. I fall asleep again just after the pilot announces that we’re halfway through our journey. I only sleep for about an hour this time, waking feeling a bit more rested. I resolve to stay up for the rest of the flight, not wanting to be completely screwed up when we get to England. 

“Good nap?” Harry asks, glancing up at me from a book he’s got open in his lap. I’m a bit startled to see a pair of spectacles on his nose, his eyes peeking up at me over the rim.

“You wear glasses?” I ask, surprised. 

“Yeah, to read. Vision’s gotten wonky over the years.”

I nod and rest my head back. He goes back to reading his book for a while, and I just sit in the silence, letting the last few days of my life really sink in. I haven’t taken the time to come to terms with everything that’s happened, and I have a feeling it’s going to catch up with me sooner or later if I don’t address it consciously. 

“You never told me why you didn’t use Nick to get ahold of me,” I suddenly declare, remembering our conversation from the first day we reconnected. 

He looks up at me, not raising his head from his book. He looks back down, folding a page to save his place before answering me. “You never gave me a chance. Told me you didn’t give a fuck what I had to say and tried taking off again, if I recall correctly.”

I feel my cheeks heat at his reminder of my behavior that day. “Sorry. My emotions are all over the place from the hormones. I’ve been known to be a bitch.”

“I didn’t think you were being a bitch, Micky,” he shakes his head. “I understand your anger that day. I’m sure you’re still angry and just too nice to say anything.”

“I’m not too nice to say anything,” I disagree with a little chuckle. “I just haven’t had time to really think about it all. Of course I’m still angry, but I’ve kinda pushed it back for now.”

He shakes his head a bit. “Can’t keep pushing it back, Mick. Not good for you or the baby.”

“Well, I’m not about to have a screaming match with you on a plane,” I tell him. “Maybe when we get to Wilmslow,” I offer with a sarcastic smile. 

Harry chuckles. “I’ll take your yelling.”

“Still haven’t answered my question, though.”

He sighs and leans back in his seat, rubbing at his eyes. He finally turns his head to look at me. “I did ask Nick for your number, Mick. As soon as I got my phone back in working order and got his own number again, I asked him. He didn’t have it anymore, though.”

I feel my brows furrow hard. “What? I had just talked him in October.”

He sound Harry makes is almost a growl, but he tries to keep it low so that he doesn’t draw attention or disturb anyone else. “You have to understand, Mick. Up until about December, my life was run by our management team and the record label. I’ve seen some of the fan theories, and while a lot of it is completely ridiculous, they’re not wrong in assuming that the management has a lot of power over our lives and the people around us.”

“What are you saying?”

“Paul’s required to report to the management team. He told them when you’d called, trying to get ahold of me. As you already assumed, they didn’t quite like that I was in a relationship with you during the middle of tour and album promo preparation. When they heard you were trying to get into contact with me, they nipped it in the bud pretty quickly.”

“But what does that have to do with Grimmy? Modest isn’t his management, is it?”

He chuckles a little darkly. “Nick Grimshaw doesn’t answer to anyone but himself and his mother. So, no, but Modest knows how close we were. There were photos of you and I out to lunch with him and coming out of his party. They knew he knew you.”

“So you’re meaning to tell me your management made the people you’re close to get rid of any traces anyone had of me?” I feel like I’m in some sort of awful spy movie where everything is a government conspiracy with how ludicrous this all sounds. But I’m not. This is my real life and I’m almost too painfully aware that things actually happen like this in the entertainment business. Especially knowing the terms on the contracts people on Syco’s label sign. I’m not surprised that the management team associated with the label is just as fucking crazy. 

Harry nods. “Pretty much, yeah. I’ve dealt with some crazy shit over the years, but that definitely topped it all.” 

“You’ve dropped them as management, right?” I ask, hearing the desperate tone to my own voice. “If I’m having a baby with you, I can’t have to vile people close to my family, Harry.”

He shakes his head immediately. “I’m with the Azoffs now, love. Jeff’s launching his own managing company soon, too. I’ll be part of it. He’s a friend first. I trust him a lot more than I ever trusted any of those twats on Modest.”

My brows pop up on my head. “Tell me how you really feel, Harry,” I tease.

He breathes out strained chuckle. “Sorry. Dealt with them for five years. I’m glad to be out of all that. Love the lads, but management left nearly everything to be desired. And we were signed as a band, so it’s not like I could drop the management and sign to a new team. I was stuck.”

“Zayn got out of it,” I shrug before realizing what it is I said. I pop my hand over my mouth, like that’ll take back the words that left it a moment before.

Harry grimaces, but then offers me a sad half smile. “But Zayn paid for the breach of contract. And I never wanted to leave outright. I just needed a break; we all did. The others may not have seen it at first, but I think they’re thankful for it now.”

“Louis just had his baby. I’m sure he’s appreciative of the time off,” I agree. 

“Anyway,” he says with a sigh after a few moments of silence. “Nick was pissed about not being able to help. Ranted about it for nearly an hour when we talked about it.” He reaches over and grabs my hand in his, stroking his thumb over my knuckles. “I am really sorry about it all, Micky. I never wanted to leave things like that.”

I nod. “I understand, Harry. There’s nothing either of us could’ve really done about it.” I squeeze his fingers in my grip and offer him a closed-lip smile. 

“I missed you,” he admits. “I’ve missed you everyday since I flew out of that airport.”

I raise his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles. “I missed you, too.”

And while there are things that still need to be talked about—and maybe even yelled about—I no longer feel that stabbing twinge of sadness and anger over how Harry and I ended. The understanding that literally all odds were against us from the beginning is angering in itself, but it’s comforting to know that it didn’t happen due to lack of trying on either of our parts. Maybe it was even what was meant to happen for us. Who’s to say the last part of his tour and his album promo run wouldn’t have torn us apart anyway? Maybe it was actually less painful this way.

TWENTY-SIX

[haught-at-waverly-place]

answer all of them

answers under the cut! only doing this cause im that bored

200: My crush’s name is: no one 199: I was born in: 1996198: I am really: bored197: My cellphone company is: wtf who cares?? 196: My eye color is: green/blue 195: My shoe size is: 6.5194: My ring size is: idk small 193: My height is: smol 192: I am allergic to: cats and all of nature in the spring and summer 191: My 1st car was: an hhr or as i liked to call it a poor mans hearse190: My 1st job was: an in home care taker aka i cleaned elderly peoples homes189: Last book you read: god i dont read188: My bed is: my best friend 187: My pet: is the loml 186: My best friend: she lives too far away tbh 185: My favorite shampoo is: i use old spice 2-in-1 like the basic bitch i am184: Xbox or ps3: ps3??? what year is it the switch is where its mfkin at 183: Piggy banks are: dope af 182: In my pockets: nothing cause im a broke bitch 181: On my calendar: nothing cause im a boring bitch 180: Marriage is: cool good on everyone who is married to their best friends 179: Spongebob can: new spongebob can die cause its garbage 178: My mom: is the best 177: The last three songs I bought were? who buys songs? 176: Last YouTube video watched: air crash investigations (dont ask) 175: How many cousins do you have? idk 174: Do you have any siblings? one sister 173: Are your parents divorced? nah 172: Are you taller than your mom? nah 171: Do you play an instrument? i used to play the violin and guitar but not anymore 170: What did you do yesterday? tried not to die [ I Believe In ]169: Love at first sight: idk maybe? 168: Luck: sure 167: Fate: yeah sure 166: Yourself: hahahahahahahahahahahahaha no 165: Aliens: fuck yeah 164: Heaven: ehhh no 163: Hell: no 162: God: not really 161: Horoscopes: lowkey160: Soul mates: every one has one 159: Ghosts: kind of 158: Gay Marriage: nah why would gays want to get married 157: War: war is p stupid 156: Orbs: wtf is an orb??155: Magic: no [ This or That ]154: Hugs or Kisses: kisses 153: Drunk or High: drunk 152: Phone or Online: online 151: Red heads or Black haired: black 150: Blondes or Brunettes: brunettes 149: Hot or cold: cold 148: Summer or winter: winter 147: Autumn or Spring: autumn 146: Chocolate or vanilla: vanilla 145: Night or Day: night 144: Oranges or Apples: apples 143: Curly or Straight hair: curly 142: McDonalds or Burger King: mcdonalds 141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: this is dark chocolate erasure and i will not stand for it 140: Mac or PC: mac 139: Flip flops or high heals: neither both are garbage for the feet 138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: im already sweet and poor sooooo137: Coke or Pepsi: where is my dr. pepper representation 136: Hillary or Obama: obama 135: Burried or cremated: cremated id like to go out in a burnin glory even if im already dead 134: Singing or Dancing: singing 133: Coach or Chanel: neither 132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: who are you people 131: Small town or Big city: big city 130: Wal-Mart or Target: im a lesbian so target obviously 129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: neither 128: Manicure or Pedicure: pedicure only cause they message my feet and legs 127: East Coast or West Coast: west coast 126: Your Birthday or Christmas: xmas cause snow 125: Chocolate or Flowers: chocolate 124: Disney or Six Flags: disney 123: Yankees or Red Sox: neither who cares about baseball [ Here’s What I Think About ]122: War: men bein garbage 121: George Bush: why? 120: Gay Marriage: hell yeah we got it 119: The presidential election: we might as well have elected a crackhead 118: Abortion: let women get them safely so they dont fucking die its that simple117: MySpace: jesus is it 2006 again 116: Reality TV: its trashy but ill watch it cause im trash 115: Parents: love your parents kids (unless they are abusive) 114: Back stabbers: are awful just like maybe dont stab people in the back literally and metaphorically 113: Ebay: ive literally never used ebay in my life 112: Facebook: its p garbage i barely ever use it 111: Work: capitalism has killed workers and quality work 110: My Neighbors: they are there 109: Gas Prices: i havent gotten gas in like 2 months so like idk 108: Designer Clothes: why are they all like so ugly??107: College: stressful and only vaguely worth something 106: Sports: fun to play but boring to watch. i only go to sporting events for the alcohol 105: My family: is v dope and i love them 104: The future: stressful and i hate thinking about it [ Last time I ]103: Hugged someone: last night it was my dad 102: Last time you ate: last night lol 101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: probably back in december with my best friend 100: Cried in front of someone: oooof all the time 99: Went to a movie theater: like 2 wks ago 98: Took a vacation: january i went on a cruise 97: Swam in a pool: last summer i think 96: Changed a diaper: uhhh never…. 95: Got my nails done: god way back in high school when i thought i was straight 94: Went to a wedding: last friday! 93: Broke a bone: 3 wks ago haha 92: Got a peircing: i havent gotten a piercing since i was like 6 91: Broke the law: uhhh i plead the fifth 90: Texted: i texted my mom like 40 mins ago [ MISC ]89: Who makes you laugh the most: myself 88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my dog shes so cute 87: The last movie I saw: spiderman into the spiderverse 86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: a vacation to see my aunt in indiana 85: The thing im not looking forward to: going back to school 84: People call me: uhhh my name? 83: The most difficult thing to do is: rn? pretty much everything 82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: never 81: My zodiac sign is: im a leo 80: The first person i talked to today was: my mom 79: First time you had a crush: first time i remember was freshman yr of college 78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: my mom 77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: i dont remember 76: Right now I am talking to: nobody im a lonely bitch 75: What are you going to do when you grow up: hopefully something to do with neuropsychology 74: I have/will get a job: 73: Tomorrow: wtf does this even mean 72: Today: or this one 71: Next Summer: and this one 70: Next Weekend: and even this one 69: I have these pets: a golden retriever mix 68: The worst sound in the world: 67: The person that makes me cry the most is: hahaha myself 66: People that make you happy: my family and friends 65: Last time I cried: yesterday 64: My friends are: amazing wonderful people that i love 63: My computer is: my lifeline 62: My School: is small but good 61: My Car: is a lesbian wagon that looks like i live in it 60: I lose all respect for people who: cheat on their s/o 59: The movie I cried at was: i dont usually cry during movies 58: Your hair color is: confusing kind of blonde also kind of brown 57: TV shows you watch: she ra, killing eve, grey anatomy too many others to list 56: Favorite web site: youtube 55: Your dream vacation: to go to germany 54: The worst pain I was ever in was: idk maybe my post surgery foot pain 53: How do you like your steak cooked: medium rare the only way a steak should be eaten 52: My room is: always a disaster 51: My favorite celebrity is: taylor swift 50: Where would you like to be: idk 49: Do you want children: noooo 48: Ever been in love: yes i have 47: Who’s your best friend: we aint naming names on here 46: More guy friends or girl friends: girl friends45: One thing that makes you feel great is: playing with my dog 44: One person that you wish you could see right now: A43: Do you have a 5 year plan: god no i dont even have a 5 hour plan 42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: nah 41: Have you pre-named your children: nope40: Last person I got mad at: myself39: I would like to move to: somewhere other than where i am now 38: I wish I was a professional: at being not depressed [ My Favorites ]37: Candy: bottle caps or ritter sports 36: Vehicle: subaru wrx hatchbacks with a wide body kit are b nice 35: President: who tf has a favorite president 34: State visited: oregon or washington 33: Cellphone provider: who has a fave cell provider???32: Athlete: none31: Actor: idk like chris pratt or something 30: Actress: rn jodie comer 29: Singer: hayley williams 28: Band: paramore 27: Clothing store: h&m 26: Grocery store: target 25: TV show: law and order svu 24: Movie: princess mononoke 23: Website: youtube 22: Animal: red panda 21: Theme park: disneyland 20: Holiday: halloween 19: Sport to watch: none they are all hella boring 18: Sport to play: softball 17: Magazine: none i dont read 16: Book: i dont read books cant concentrate for that long 15: Day of the week: idk saturday 14: Beach: ive been to a beach like 3 times and i barely remember them 13: Concert attended: paramore after laughter concert last summer 12: Thing to cook: cooking stresses me the fuck out so i dont have a favorite thing to cook 11: Food: pasta!! 10: Restaurant: uhhh i dont really have one 9: Radio station: its 2019 who listens to the radio 8: Yankee candle scent: i dont really use candles 7: Perfume: i dont wear perfume 6: Flower: peach roses probably 5: Color: red 4: Talk show host: i dont watch talk shows they are all boring 3: Comedian: john mulaney or iliza schlesinger 2: Dog breed: corgi 1: Did you answer all these truthfully? hahahahaha

[humerusimagines]

home - us!sans x reader

So for fanfic Friday, how about us sans with an s/o in a band who just came back home from tour

pairing: sans x reader

summary: touring the world is fun, but when you see the small, blue scarf tied around your wrist...you finally feel like you’ve seen enough. it’s time to go home.

notes: oh my gosh i love writing the blueberry. he is. so pure. i love him.here u go sweet anon i give you fluffs.

You originally planned to tour throughout the winter and late into spring. 6 months of nonstop travel, to Europe and Asia, When you found out, you were extremely excited. You could take Sans with you, and show him everything he hasn’t seen with his own eyes yet! The thought of the childlike skeleton, of his joy as he’d see the world...You wanted to give him so much more, and this will do for now.

However, when you brought up the idea to Papyrus, he looked at you like you grew another head.

“listen kiddo, sans is pretty open to anything, and he likes to travel...but not for that long. he gets really homesick. like, badly.” He relayed to you as he puffs a cigarette. “i once tried to take him to new home for like 3 months, just to get out of snowdin for a while.”

“Tried?”

“he cried every day after the first week until we came back home.”

So now here you stood, watching him reenact battle positions with his figures, and wondered how in the world you were going to tell him. Were you prepared to leave that long?

You knocked on the door to let him know you were there, and he turned curiously to see who it was before his face broke out into a happy grin. “HUMAN! THE MAGNIFICENT SANS IS SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU!”

The little skeleton hopped over happily to you, hugging your legs as he stamped his boots in his joy. At this, your heart melted. Gosh, you were gonna miss this goober when you left.

“Hey, Sansy.” You greet, half of your face pulling up in a smile. “I uh...I have something to tell you!”

“REALLY! THEN I AM ALL EARS!” He turns his head to look up at you, eyes sparkling. How the hell somebody could be so cute, you had no idea. From his scarf, which looked huge on him, to his tiny boots, you loved every bit and piece of Sans with all your heart.

That’s why your soul panged with hurt at the words you said next.

“My band and I have a tour coming up. We’re gonna be gone for 6 months.”

It took him a moment to register it, but as he did, his face slowly fell. “6 MONTHS?”

You nodded, rubbing the top of his skull. “I mean, if you don’t want me to go--”

He fiercely shook his head. “NO! I WILL NOT ALLOW IT!” He squeezed your legs just a bit harder. “WE WILL MAKE IT WORK! I WILL LEARN HOW TO USE THAT VIDEO PHONE THAT CHARA HAS. WE WILL MAKE IT WORK!”

That was that. Any attempt at trying to compromise was shut down easily by him, because he wanted you to follow your dreams. If that meant he had to be alone for a while, that was okay.

Bags were packed, a taxi was called to take you to the airport, where you would meet with your band and producer to prepare for the tour. After getting the last of the luggage inside the car (with no help from Papyrus), you and Sans looked at each other.

He looked so sad underneath that happy smile for you, you knelt down and hugged him. You were barely holding back your tears.

“Oh Human...It Will Be Okay.” Sans reassured you, holding you tight. You hiccuped and nodded before pulling away, fidgeting with one of the bracelets on your arm. 

One afternoon, you just decided that you wanted to make bracelets based on all of your friends. Sans’s was a combination of knots and braids, some parts were messy but you were the most proud of this one. A small, plastic bone was tied to the end, used as a clasp. You took it and tied it around his wrist.

“For when you miss me. If you do, just look at that and think of me.” You tell him, smiling through your tears. “Okay?”

He nods, and his eyes lit up with an idea as he tore a piece of his scarf off, tying it around one of your wrists. “I DON’T HAVE SOMETHING AS COOL AS WHAT YOU GAVE ME, BUT THIS IS SECOND BEST! A SMALL PART OF ME, FOR WHEN YOU GET LONELY, OKAY?”

You looked down at the cloth wrapped around your arm and smiled fondly, kissing it lightly. “I’ll protect it with my life. For you. I’ll bring it back and sew it back on, okay?”

He smiles in response, pressing his nasal bone against the tip of yours. With that, he took a step back. His little gloved hands, one with your bracelet, clasped in front of his torso with a small, hopeful smile. “OKAY. PLEASE BE SAFE, HUMAN. I’LL BE WAITING BACK HERE WHEN YOU GET HOME!”

You wave goodbye to him and Papyrus, before getting into the backseat of the taxi. You pressed your face up against the glass as you watched the house disappear behind you, the small form of your boyfriend vanishing from view as the car turned around a corner.

5 months and 20 days later

“Thank you London, goodnight!” You yelled into the mic to the roar of fans approval, turning to leave the stage with your band trailing behind.

The invigoration you felt after a concert was addicting, but for some reason after this one, you were so very tired. You had one more show after this one, and then finally, you could go home. Home.

Home.

You missed Sans so much, sometimes you would cry full hours missing his little body pressed next to yours. Everything, from his eyes to his voice, you missed. Everything. You couldn’t wait to get home to him.

And it was looking as if you were to get your wish. As you and your band piled onto the bus, your producer informed you that due to inclement weather, the last destination for your tour was cancelled. 

You praised what god graced you with this liberty. You told your producer to not announce anything about the cancellation besides in an email. You also requested the next flight home as you whipped out your phone.

You: pap i need a favor

Pappy: ?

You: tour ended early. i don’t want sans to know, for surprise reasons. help me.

Pappy: oh no suddenly the internet is out for the weekend....how dreadful....

You smiled. Hold tight, Sansy, I’m coming.

“PAPYRUS! WHY HAVE WE BEEN BOONDOGGLING AROUND TOWN ALL DAY LOOKING FOR A DOG?”

“it’s updog, sans, and we got to find it or else the house will be destroyed!”

“WHAT IS UPDOG-- PAPYRUS!!”

Knowing he was royally fucked, Papyrus started running down the street towards the house. Everything was ready anyways, and he was supposed to bring his older brother anyways.

The plan was this: Papyrus had to get Sans’ scarf dirty somehow, and while it was at home washing, you were going to come home and sew the piece Sans gave you when you left back onto it. You’d then wait back at home for Papyrus and Sans to come home.

You wrapped it around your neck like a present’s bow, sitting in the floor before the door to wait on the brothers to return. A ping from your phone alerted you to a message from Papyrus:

Pappy: cureently running gj but on way homghe

You laughed quietly, hearing his beat up sneakers hitting the pavement in front of the house. Papyrus lurched the door open and shut it quickly before you were seen, holding the door shut.

“PAPYRUS! LET ME IN!” Sans started to bang on the door impatiently, indignant sighs exhaling from him. Your heart leapt into your throat, a tearful smile pulling your mouth upwards.

“okay, fine, bro.” He opened the door suddenly, to show Sans mid-knock. His little face was blue and irritated, but the lines between his eye sockets smoothed out as he saw you sat upon the floor with his scarf around your neck.

“Sansy!!” You cried out, trying to roll up onto your feet but not getting the chance before an excitable blue blur tackled you to the ground, pecking your entire face with kisses.

“HUMAN! HUMAN!!!” He yells, holding your face in his gloved hands. Your bracelet dangles from his wrist, looking the same as it did the day you put it on him. His pupils have morphed into stars and you can see tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes. You laugh, starting to cry yourself.

“I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!”

“I missed you too! Oh, you have no idea--”

He captures your mouth in a kiss, cutting you off mid-sentence. One of his hands thread into hair, the other hooking around your waist as you sighed and returned the kiss. 

Oh, how wonderful it was to be home.

[moshfeghpilled]

describe how each high school year by semester went for you

9th grade: We don’t call it a play date anymore, it is hanging out, hanging by our toes like wet lipped fruit bats, like jungle gym monkey kids. Young and swollen. Blood, immature blood, pink blood, fresh meat blood pepto bismol up the wazoo, and spit under my bed. Code names aren’t for spies, they’re for 14 year old girls with googley eyes, not that we needed them. Kevin and Grace, Ellie and Joshua, Paloma and Matt which is weird because I’m hot for him, and they kinda look like siblings. Pink shorts, black tights, Jimmy Eat World, pizza bagels and lucky charms under a fresh white linen morning like detergent sealed crust between my eyelids, you tore them open. I mean, not yet. But soon. I discover neon sex scenes, Sky Ferreira, and Skins and this is where the final hopscotch box stops; at the end of the subway platform. This is where I’m supposed to jump. Monkey balls fall on our heads as we walk home, and autumn leaves crunch like drum line snare beats. All godless girls with snakes and cherry lollipops and 9 millimeters pointed at our clits, Bend it Like Beckham under your itchy wool blankets, Alice’s mom thinks I’m cool, and I stay for dinner and crack some risky jokes like a fox among wolves. (I think he looks at me when I look away). Me and Hana FaceTime I take screenshots of her dancing with her cat. The girls who play soft ball in short shorts, the girls who call them sluts, the boys who watch. We dance through rainbows in the sprinklers on the way to the Homecoming dance and pretend we don’t care we don’t have dates. We’re floating in the cytoplasm, floating on the cotton candy overdose cause our parents drop us off at the bowling alley but we are too loyal to sneak out the back. We pool our money every Friday after school for the spring break road trip we’re going on when Hana gets a car, and one of us has lost our virginity, and none of us are scared of the dark.

Miss Budd yelled at me for not standing for the pledge of allegiance, and I was 4 years old again. My English teacher held me back, and held my hand, and gave me a safety pin for my missing button, and told me it would be. Okay.

10th grade: We were on the news that year. Cristo’s curls on KTLA, solemn, and not the boy cross eyed and high with his pants around his ankles. Suddenly we’re all standing up straight, suddenly we’re being told we can’t wear leggings because somebody posted a video of Penelope having sex with Max on Facebook. Suddenly we’re underground in the girls locker room (red varsity knee socks, Dina drowning the spider nests with Victoria’s Secret rose perfume, humid with shame and lesbian suspicion) holding our arms in front of our naked breasts, single file like ants for the syphilis test. The boys who drew penises in fire and salt on the soccer field grass, like druid frat boys, but not the boys who put gorilla glue in the classroom locks, and not the boys who wrote their hit list in the red pen on the back of Mr. Chan’s syllabus and ended up in court, who called in a bomb threat, just to get the test pushed back. We all took turns getting our ghosts exorcized in the principals office. It was pompeii and pandemonium, and nobody was safe, not even us girls sleeping wrapped in the dust of library encyclopedias. You moved away from me like I was illiciting the restless black dreams on your grandmas shitty air mattress. The sheets are clean enough, but this attic is haunted, you keep waking up in the middle of the night to your body sinking like a pirate ship caught by the Kraken, the floor gnawing at your bones again so you just. Got up. And slept somewhere else. My English teacher held me back, and told me I was a good writer but don’t be so angry, and I cried right there, and she gave me a kleenex from her Shakespeare tissue holder and I blew this stupid pain head first out of my nose. I never told you about that. Maybe if I had you would’ve felt bad for me and stayed a little longer. But you hung out with those buckwild kids under the spot by the willow tree, and it was easy. it was just snuffing out an annoyance. A mosquito licking the ruby of your earrings that you shooed away. Our birthstones were both rubies, you know, we were twin cancers with balmy skin and busted appendixes, the aliens took you once and the only explanation was a scar on your spine, and I reckon I should’ve known they’d come back for you.

(You are gonna tell your kids about these cherry cola years of golden suburbia, and midnight blue debauchery snapping teenage knees, and furrow your brow forgetting the name of the girl you spent the first two calling your best friend.) You cheered at football games. You got drunk with them at night, and you were bursting and missing teeth like a watermelon smile, you rubbed up against each other like cats they touched you in all the right places and you didn’t text me anymore. You went to sleepovers and posted photos on Instagram, I wasn’t invited, I thought this bullshit was supposed to stop happening in elementary school. All the things we thought would never happen, lockdown drills, fire drills, earthquake drills and we still weren’t prepared. It was. Pandemonium. It was. Chemical fires in Mr. Dow’s science class. And me and my plans were just. so fucking boring standing next to your cherry blossom hurricane. You didn’t wait for me after class anymore and I just. Looked so stupid trying to catch up. Blood, mature blood, cows blood in the manure for the roses to eat. Black blood, like storm sky, I dish out this milkshake I pick the scab and I lick the blood away. Thomas comes out and dubs himself the gay cliche, we walk home together on the yellow brick road, and we pray a tornado will land the school library on our corpses so we can die with those sparkly shoes on. Those ruby shoes on. The Fates gagged me with a pack of jolly ranchers. I got straight A’s while Rome was falling. Nobody has ever made me feel so small.

11th grade: New school. The kids talk different here. Depression in California is like getting a cold in mid-July. So ironic it’s almost insulting. I’m pretty sure it was raining all year, but don’t count on it, I lived sub-terrestrialy with my mothers tulip bulbs. Today’s Wednesday? I thought it was Friday? I thought yesterday was Sunday? Depression in California is like running after a rabbit in the woods. It doesn’t matter how sunny it is, you will suddenly look up and it’s night, and the trees are not your friends, even when they are as skinny and shaky as you. You will get stuck in the swamp, leave your shoes behind, and not even remember why you were out here in the first place.

Headache. Stomach ache. Lots of those, those are easy to fake. Menstrual cramps, vomiting, gut wrenching, kinda vomiting. A personal favorite. I got to get my hands dirty for that one, I got to reach for the gag reflex like a remote control and press fast forward and feel my arc capsizing, until the static buzzed and I was pale like southern gothic tragedy, I’m not bulimic I just don’t wanna go to school. Depression in California is like an abandoned zoo. Everything echoing animal shrieks. They set them free but the cages were empty long before that. I make some friends, nice ones who laugh at my jokes, and I feel like I should get a sticker for it, but I do more nervous shaking than laughing.

Depression in California is like a badly maintenanced carnival. We’ve gone around the ferris wheel 8 times now and nobody seems to notice. The cotton candy polluting my blood, running slow and globby while the kids below spin, the kids drop, the kids could die, but they just giggle hand in hand with smiling clowns who pump them full of teeth rotting sweets, the winking lights are blurry this far away, and it feels like eons before we’ll get back to the bottom. I’m out of tokens. I think I’m just gonna jump.  

12th grade: Trump won. I think I might like girls. My dad jokes about his own death so I know what it means to be angry now, like femurs forged from the goddamn ring of Isildur. Is this what’s normal now? Fucking boys who are oil slick and easy living, and lose my socks in their dorm rooms? Meet them for diner food and xans on the weekend, and everything just temporary? Is that just what everybody wants now? My brother got a green card marriage, but I guess he loves her for real now. We watch the Walking Dead until the streetlights glaze over our eyes, he asks me if I have a boyfriend, no. If I’ve had any since I last saw him, no. If no is my favorite word, yes. Thing is I’ve never been anyone’s girl cause I’ve got a volcano where I should have a stomach. I know what it is to live on the red planet. But I ignore all that and go to concerts that bleed beer and swoon for boys who drink the blood. I guess we’re used to falling off of things so we do it on purpose now. It’s not over but I know how it’s gonna end. Cracked skull, and police lights. And to the break of dawn on Brandon’s roof, boxers stained with mayonnaise, and Deadpool is probably his favorite movie or some dumb white boy shit like that. I’m not gonna cry when I leave for college, I’m gonna cry at the car rental watching the sun bleed out on the trees. I’m gonna cry in the knothole of an oak tree, hiding from the freshman mixer party in the woods I knew I shouldn’t have come to once the social anxiety starts clawing up soaked in the gallon of strawberry Crush I downed to calm myself down. You know, in some other parallel universe, my parents never divorced and we dispute where the sugar pantry should be at inopportune times, and I don’t straight jacket myself with the echoplex sound of my mother screaming over my dead body just to not inhale the chlorox under the sink. I was so bloody, I just wanted to be clean.

I thought it was like the 80’s, the rusty exhaust pipe of Matt’s car turning the snow black while he’s wasting time daydreaming of my piston pumping sloppy hips, and rumored things that happen in the backseat, and kicking cans in no particular direction, and first love sticky and first love stabbed into your kidney and you never really recover. I thought it was sixteen candles, and say anything, but it’s getting bloodshot squirrelly smoking hash in the disabled bathroom stall. It’s a personality disorder grown up from the ground like a mushroom that is poison to the touch, and thrown away birthday presents, and valentines day balloons stuck in the trees. It’s dropping the last slice of college acceptance celebration cake on the floor for your dogs breakfast, and cartoon rain puddles for eyes talking about how scary it is to drive on the freeway. Karina and Maddie rough housing like pit bulls in fifth period cause we don’t do shit in that class and pretending that we are not all gonna be strangers in 6 weeks before we. Before we. Please don’t make me say it out loud.

My English teacher held me back, and told me to make up the quiz I missed, and that was the only time I will ever be happy that some strangers just stay that way. And Daddy, I will miss you when you leave me, and Daddy I will meet you in the next life you just gotta wait for me ok?

I am not the kind of girl people have crushes on. I am the kind of girl who can survive 18 stealing food from parties, couch surfing, living like a lightning bolt. There one minute, and gone the next.

[grapsandclaps]

GRAPS AND CLAPS REVIEWS - PROGRESS WRESTLING CHAPTER 78 '24 HOUR PROGRESS PEOPLE'

Hello and welcome everyone to another edition of Graps and Claps, this time taking me on a short journey to Manchester for PROGRESS Wrestling Chapter 78 '24 Hour Progress People' from the Ritz in the first time since a banging show in February at the same venue and the first time since the big Victoria Warehouse show in May so for the people in attendance the anticipation of seeing something that they hadn't seen live for a few months was high.

Having spent the last days at Southside Wrestling which if you want to check anything out from there weekend of 3 shows make sure you check out the all-womens show on the Friday night which nearly everyone stood out on the evening especially Kris Wolf, Millie McKenzie, Kanji and Shanna with the latter winning the Queen of the Ring title and duly defended it the next evening against former NXT wrestler Kimber Lee on the Saturday evening show. 

There were also a couple of killer Mike Bailey matches on the Saturday shows vs Senza Volto in the afternoon and in the evening as part of a mixed tag team match where he teamed with his real life partner Veda Scott taking on another couple in the form of Xia Brookside & Sean Kustom that exceeded expectations by far, plus there was the continuation of my long running feud with Nottingham's No.1 Soy Boy Gabriel Kidd who offered me out to the car park for a word or two which never materialised. Truthfully though the Southside Sheffield Double Header's are usually great fun but tiring on the legs and your liver if you are drinking many £3 cans of Hooch!

With that said, let's get into my trip to PROGRESS on Sunday which started at 11am from Rochdale Train Station arriving into the first meeting spot of the Brewdog next to the Albert Hall concert venue due to Oxford Road being very busy due to the Manchester Derby between Manchester City and Manchester United and also the Remembrance Sunday commemorations. Only the one drink in here for me which was a Mad Hatter Brewery Choco Choc Choc (£4.80 2/3rds) that had a burnt orange after taste to it but it was spot on as a palate cleanser to commence the drinking for the day.

After a phone call from Athers of his whereabouts, we moved on to The Courtyard which is located not too far away from the Ritz and is widely known as more of a student drinking den with prices as low as £2.85 for pints of Pravha of which I had 3 pints of, take into account as well the half price 10 inch pizzas on a Sunday (£4) and you have a relatively cheap afternoon out before the graps. The only downfall about this place are the urine stained piss gutters and as Athers found out - no locks of note on the disabled toilet doors, meaning me and our Geoff had to play guardsmen to make sure the door was shut whilst Athers was doing his business.

Arriving at the Ritz for 230pm, we were supposed to be sat in 4th row seating but due to the sheer amount of people I know standing up for the afternoon we took our position in front of the merch desk which provided an excellent view for the afternoon's action, so without further ado let's get into what went down!

After the usual pleasantries from compere Jim, we got into the first match with Eddie Dennis receiving quite the ovation from the Manchester audience but was soon turned to jeers once the match got going against his opponent, the aforementioned 'Speedball' Mike Bailey who was looking to continue his blinding form from the weekend into this match. Early stages and Eddie used his considerable height advantage on Bailey as he he hit a sweet Cravat Neckbreaker for a two count, Bailey fired back though with a boot to the face following up with a twirling Shooting Star Press for a two count. It has to be noted that Bailey is very accustomed to using his body as a dangerous weapon using many variations of double knee stomps and splashes to wound his opponents, but on one occasion during this match, Bailey tried to his the double knees to Eddie on the Apron but missed leaving him with very sore shins - OUCH!

Back in the ring, Eddie hit a big powerbomb for 2 count but Bailey came back once again to hit a tornado roundhouse kick to Dennis whilst he was in the ring corner to floor Eddie, leaving Bailey to hit the Moonsault double knees from the top rope for a close two fall. Bailey though once again tried for the Moonsault knees but he missed leading to Eddie hitting a Next Stop Driver which got an amazing 2 count that brought a huge reaction from the crowd in attendance. Sadly though Eddie didn't rest on his laurels and duly put Bailey away with a Super Style Next Stop Driver for the win to end an amazing opener that set the tone for what would be one of the best PROGRESS show certainly in the last couple of years. Both lads deserved the round of applause from the Manchester faithful - fan-dabbie-dozzie!!!

Next up brought the usual Women being on 2nd spot, but this one brought the debut of local favourite Lana Austin who has been touted for ages for a spot on a PROGRESS chapter show as she has consistently been one of the most improved wrestler on the circuit and without one of the best women wrestlers out there in the UK and Europe. Knowing Lana very well through the North West over the years brought a sense of happiness seeing someone who has worked hard to get to this spot be very satisfying. Lana's opponent for the afternoon was Isla Dawn who had a fine match against Millie McKenzie at the last Camden show till The Spice Girls & All Saints came in and interfered,

The early feeling out process in this match was very much a 50/50 split from an offence side of things, but from a crowd side of things it was 99% in Lana's favour. Lana managed to stun Isla with the 'Peach Punch' arse smash to get a two count but it was when Lana missed a dive from the top rope that she was duly punished by Dawn who had Lana up in the electric chair position to be transitioned into a bridging  suplex pin to get the unpopular 3 count in a fairly decent contest - better luck next time Lana!

Third up, it was like looking at a mirror image as 'Smashmouth' Chris Ridgeway took on the 'Killer Import' Jordan Devlin in what looked on paper to be a hard hitting contest and one that turned out to be just that. Devlin who has been tearing up the Irish scene by store had the upper hand as he hit a Spanish Fly at one stage to get a two count on Ridgeway. Devlin followed up with hard boots and then a brainbuster which was then reversed by Ridgeway into a choke to send Devlin sprawling for the ropes. Devlin though shook this off when reversing another choke into a Piper/Hart pin for a 2 count, Devlin once again went up top trying to hit a Moonsault but was caught once again by Ridgeway who locked in a triangle choke. 

With both wrestlers at a standing base though, Devlin headbutted Ridgeway in a duel of two rutting stags to get a two count to elicit a standing ovation from those in attendance. Ridgeway fought back from this and hit a Cradle Piledriver not seen since the days of Jerry Lynn in ECW but Devlin managed somehow to roll through from this and hit a huge Package Piledriver to get the 3 count to win an excellent battle - this show ruled! One thing I didn't quite get was the appearance of Paul Robinson who challenged the defeated Chris Ridgeway saying 'Your supposed to be Hard as Fuck, but I am Harder than you' setting up a match possibly for the next Manchester show in December - surely the bloke who is Hard as Fuck shouldn't have been the one who was just defeated? Probably this was one of two minor gripes on this afternoon.

Your half time main event next with David Starr who has had a beard trim taking on Ilja Draganov who thankfully didn't come out to them Wembley jungle drums this time. To follow up what had already been an amazing first half, this delivered despite as we would find out a bit of a duff finish in one sense (I'm a clean finish man). This match had lariat battles galore between both me with sweat and souls escaping both wrestlers bodies eventually flooring both men on a couple of occasions, dives by both Starr and Ilja were hit to leave people running from there seats to move out of the way. 

Back in the ring with the match ready to go off the scale, Ilja hit a huge Torpedo Moscow headbutt to Starr to leave him laying but as he was ready to win the match out came 'The Kiwi Buzzsaw' Travis Banks wearing some newly acquired threads to attack both Ilja and Starr to cause the No Contest much to the disgust of the crowd and firmly positioning Banks in the position of bad guy for the future as he possibly goes into two mouth watering clashes against both Ilja and Dave which makes sense as we close out 2018, but just the clean finish man in me though they could have left this as an after match angle but hey ho - it is what it is!

Back from half time now with the crowd firmly settled from a scorching first half we returned with Tag Team title action as Aussie Open (Mark Davis and Kyle Fletcher) made the second defence of their titles against #CTK (Timothy Thatcher & Chris Brookes). The CTK tag team dominated early one with both Thatcher and Brookes getting the better of the Aussies but Davis and Fletcher came back with for instance Fletcher hitting a dive to the outside on both Timo and Brookes.

Back in the ring Brookes tried many variations of trying to roll up the Aussies and got multiple 2 counts from Referee Joel, but it Brookes who got a taste of his own medicine as Kyle Fletcher used a roll up of his own to pin Brookes in around 15 minutes to end a really good back and forth match.

Inspired but failed chant credit goes to my mate Davey who tried to get me to chant 'Brooksey & Tim' to the tune of 90s Children's TV show Rosie & Jim - sadly it fell flat on its arse but I enjoyed it.

Second to last match now with the Atlas Open Challenge with the Champion Trent Seven facing a mystery opponent with many names mentioned around the RItz on the afternoon but ending up with a great option in the form of Liverpool's No.1 Zack Gibson accompanied with his tag partner James Drake for whom he had a few miscommunication's with in the last few weeks. What followed was to be one of the most funniest mic battles with some reet cutting barbs against each other - the one about Trent Seven being the cheap option if Pete Dunne and Tyler Bate weren't available left me in stitches and literally leaving Trent lying on the floor. 

It was one comment though that would come back to bite Gibson on the arse as he said that all Trent was famous for was getting beat in 6 seconds by Matt Riddle at SSS16 two years ago. As the bell sounded though as per Gibson's request he was caught unawares by Trent who rolled up the Scouse Mouth in 5 seconds to send the crowd in rapture and roars of laughter as Gibson's expense - this was great booking and just what was needed after all the action before it (Thumbs up and a ten from Len)! After the match, disgusted at his defeat Gibson had a pushing match with Drake who he left alone in the ring as it looks like the Grizzled Young Veterans will be searching out divorce proceedings as a tag team.

Now is the time for the Main Event with No.1 Contender Mark Haskins trying to do the impossible as he looked to beat the unstoppable Austrian Monster WALTER. Now I admit and like a few others didn't have high expectations that Haskins would pull off the victory on this evening in Manchester but as we would find out the impossible nearly came possible! In this match Haskins played the underdog in peril perfectly here getting the Manchester crowd who had once booed him against Zack Gibson in his first title run, fully behind the man from Malvern.

With Walter looking dominant early on, Haskins managed to at least get in some offence as he floored the Austrian to hit a double stomp for a two count, Haskins followed up with the bounce back dive to the outside, back in the ring Haskins managed of all things to wrap Walter in a Sharpshooter to get him close to tapping, but Walter reached around with his huge arms (it has to be said that Walter is looking more and more in solid shape to add to his menacing demeanor) to reverse the submission into a choke of his own which Haskins managed to get out of.

Haskins on a couple of occasions tried to roll through to lift Walter but on the second time of trying he was caught in a choke sleeper but rolled through over Walter to get a 2 count. Walter did hit a powerbomb which has put away opponents in the past for a 2 count, but when at a standing base Walter put away a valiant Haskins with the Steiner Screwdriver for the 3 count to end a breathless main event and what a fitting end to an almost perfect 3 and half hour show and for me made me believe in Mark Haskins as a threat once again for the future despite losing.

Show finished, it was time for the debrief and a bit of a tea in Wetherspoons to chat with the usual folks about what a great evening of action it was. By the time 8pm, I left to catch my train thinking of what a great day and weekend I have had at the wrestling with some top people and in no way feeling burn out from it, but glad of the rest now until Sunday 18th November and Tidal Wrestling in Leeds.

In closing though, I fully recommend you check out this show on PROGRESS On Demand when it arrives as it could easily be in my top 10 shows of the year and touching the top 5 from a live experience side of things. So I hope you have enjoyed reading this review, please leave any feeback give it a share, like or retweet and I will see you next time for Tidal Wrestling at the weekend.

#grapsandclaps

@oggypart3

[jinxedncharmed]

Back from a long weekend with the family! Look at this precious darling, my niece. She's the spitting image of her father and looks nothing like my sister or I, but that's ok. She's outrageously cute and smart. We celebrated her first birthday, which technically is tomorrow but close enough, eh? Also I clearly have no idea how to hold a baby. It was good to see her, and Mom and Sis. I hadn't been to their new place, which is nice with three monstrously large bedrooms. My Sister and BIL are lazy slobs, however, and so it is kept like a garbage dump, which is unfortunate. It's in a poorer neighborhood and because many of their neighbors are black, they call it a hood. "This is not a hood," I said, "these people are merely poor, like you. Come to DC and I will show you a fucking hood." My racist family. I'm the Mike to their Archie Bunkers. Of course, they do live in North Carolina, which is a disgusting state. I was so happy to return to the north where I belong. I got to leave work early in Friday thanks to a fortuitous water main break which I swear I had no part in. The drive was long and miserable; by the fourth hour my leg was screaming, and by the fifth my back was too. But it was worth it. Niece is a brilliant happy angel. She is walking quite well and we very happily played in the floor on Friday night. Saturday was taken up by the birthday party, which included many of BIL's white trash relatives. How white trash are they? Between the five of them, they did not have a complete set of teeth. The yard had two trucks on cinder blocks. Mountain Dew was all they would drink. BIL's grandma was only one year older than my mother; her first husband was murdered and all they recovered was one ear, the second husband was a convicted rapist ("But them girls [yes, plural] was lying"). Thankfully he's in prison and she did divorce him. So yeah, we got to get Niece the fuck away from those people. Niece received many gifts; we must be careful or she'll be spoiled. I see now how easy it is to raise a spoiled child; I'd move heaven and earth for her. She particularly liked a tiny pink piano and a massive kitchen set Mom got her (Me: "You're only re-enforcing harmful gender stereotypes." Mom: "You had a kitchen set and you loved it." Me: "Liar!"). She is very fond of music and toys that make noise; in her nursery she was happy to show me a little guitar, which had been a toy of my BIL's. The highlight for me, though, was seeing Mom interact with Niece. We fed her and bathed her and played, and Mom was incandescent with joy. She loves kids, and kids love her; she reminds me of Tim Allen in "The Santa Claus," how children are drawn to her and follow her around. It was wonderful to see her so happy. Mom has long wanted grandkids, the one thing I can never give her. I love being an aunt but have no desire for a child of my own, and frankly, it would be cruel to pass along my more genes. I would be a bad mother, but I will try to be a good aunt. It was wonderful to see my mom so happy. She deserves that happiness. So it was a good weekend, topped off by the incredibly fun Foo Fighters concert. I sang and danced and had a blast, and today my body pays for it. But Dave Grohl is always worth seeing. Now, thankfully, I am back home. It is good to be back in DC. I won't see them again until Christmas; Sis does Thanksgiving with BIL's family, so I'll see Mom but not her. I hope the next time I have to make the drive, the pain is less. I've got my laundry in the dryer, and I cleaned up all the cat shit (Charm has separation anxiety, I may board her at Christmas) and scrubbed myself in a long hot shower. I'll turn in early tonight, as I slept little. The weather here is gorgeous and promises to be for the rest of the week. Tomorrow I see my psychiatrist, who I don't like, and Thursday I am getting two tiny cavities filled (rescheduled from last week, when another patient had a seizure and badly upset the whole office. I don't want a dentist drilling me after he's gone through that). Friday I'm bringing breakfast for the office, which is something everyone takes turns doing. Now to start a new book. I'm still in my Queen's Thief madness and listened to "The King of Attolia" on my drive, but the TBR pile beckons. It never grows any smaller, no matter how much I read. What a great problem to have!