#i should be writing sangria wine

[jerzwriter]

A Bronx Valentine

Book: Crimes of Passion Pairing: Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose (F!MC) Words: 900 Rating: Teen Summary: It's their first Valentine's Day as a couple, and Trystan and Carolina have plans to spend it in a very traditional manner... until they don't. A/N: I have a few notes at the end, but I will be participating in @choicesfebruary2024 Eros/Philia

Dinner had been delightful. Ruby’s recommendation was exactly what Trystan and Carolina had desired. Cozy. Candle-lit. Off-the-beaten path and not too crowded, even on Valentine’s Day. It was BYOB, so Trystan saw to it that the wine game was top-tier, and the food rivaled any place Michelin would quickly grant three stars.

The only thing that could rival the restaurant was the company, which was quite evident as Trystan stared at Carolina in rapt attention. Lovingly caressing her hand as she regaled him with stories of her past. He wanted to know absolutely everything about this vision who was foolish enough to love him, and he would have gladly listened to her all night.   

Just before the coffee was served, Carolina kicked off a shoe. With the floral brocade tablecloth providing cover, Trystan visibly shuddered as his girlfriend's stockinged foot trailed up and down his calf. They seemed to know exactly where the night was headed, but Carolina had one more story to tell. With his interest more than piqued, Trystan had enough, all but jumping from his seat to wave down the waiter for the check.

Their anticipation was palpable on the taxi ride home, and they all but hopped out of the car the moment it came to a stop. Bolting up the stairs, their laughter filled the air as they stumbled into her room, Carolina knocking things over as she clumsily felt around for the light.

"I can't believe we're going to do this," she chuckled. "I only meant it as a joke."

"Are you kidding?" Trystan beamed so brightly that there was almost no need for that light. He grabbed two glittery pens and some paper from Carolina's stash and rushed to take a seat at her side. "This is inspired! It's brilliant! I'm distraught that I haven’t heard of it before!"

"Yeah," she winked seductively, caressing his cheek with a smile. "But if you had, you wouldn't be doing it for the first time with me."

"Yes, and while this is a very unique of losing our virginity together, and I, for one, cannot wait! Now! Let's get to it!"

Carolina grabbed a sheet of paper from Trystan’s hand with a raised brow. “Do you think this is enough?”

“Hardly!” He gasped, pulling an entire memo cube from beside him. “We are going to be here a long time."

Carolina scooted down to the floor to write atop her coffee table, and Trystan quickly followed.

“Raul!” Carolina hollered as she wrote the name down. “Definitely, Raul!”

Trystan knit his brows. “I don’t think you ever told me about him?”

“Of course I did!” Carolina insisted. “He was the jerk who insisted being demiro was not a thing and just kept pushing and pushing no matter how uncomfortable I became.”

“Asshole,” Trystan mumbled.

“Precisely! Granted, I happily dumped a pitcher of Sangria over his head on our last date... quite satisfying, but... this adds a certain... je n’est ce quoi. Who is your first victim?”

“Augustine, for starters. He was the jackass that went to the tabloids about our relationship before I had even come out at bi."

“Prick!” Carolina exclaimed.

“... and then there was Alicia....”

Carolina looked up from her writing, “I don’t think I remember her story?”

“Fake pregnancy extortion scheme.”

“Dear God!” Carolina laughed. “You have a much more storied dating history than I do!”

Trystan looked up at her with a playful smirk. “I was simply the bigger whore, dear.”

Carolina burst into giggles. “This is entirely too much fun!”

“Inspired!!! Oh," he said, grabbing a sheet of glittery red heart stickers. "Do you think we should put some of these on?"

"I can't see why not! I think it would be a lovely touch and in the spirit of the occasion!"

"Ah!" Trystan grinned. "The Bronx is the best place in the world.”

“In fairness, I don’t think the Bronx Zoo is the only place that lets you name a giant cockroach after an ex for Valentine’s Day, but they really do make a big deal of it.”

Trystan shook his head in amazement as he pulled out his phone. “I can’t believe this tradition hasn’t made its way to Drakovia!” Then, after a few clicks, he let out a gasp. “OH...MY... GOD!”

“What is it?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his waist and peering over his shoulder.

“The San Antonio Zoo lets you name a giant roach after an ex... then they feed it to another animal in the zoo!”

“No!” Carolina said with a gentle laugh. “Absolutely not. Even if it is a giant roach, I’m not supporting animal cruelty.”

“But it’s a ROACH Carolina, and it’s going to be dinner for the other animals anyway.”

“Perhaps,” she shrugged. “But it’s not going to be at my suggestion. I’ll stick with just naming a roach that's a Bronx native, just like me!"

“You’re no fun,” he pouted.

“Really?” She teased. “We'll see what you have to say about that after this little activity is over.”

Trystan’s eyes lit up as a lightbulb went on in his head. With another gasp and a quick clap of his hands, he reached for a stack of paper. Carolina tried to remember if she had ever seen the man this enthusiastic.

“Are you that excited about our post-Roach naming activities?”

“Always,” he winked. “But I just thought of something! I can name roaches after my siblings, too!”

“Oh, God!"

“And parents... I can name them after my parents! Not to mention, you've never even met my cousins.”

Carolina put her tiny stack of names to the side and grabbed her pen.

“Babe, do you want to tell me some of their names so I can help you? This looks like it might take a while, and as much fun as this is... I really have other things I’d like to get to.”

Trystan leaned over and gave Carolina a long, lingering kiss. "Of course, my love, but it must be said... this is the best foreplay I’ve ever had.”

A/N2: When I saw this, I knew exactly what I had to do! I could absolutely see these two doing this - and having entirely too much fun doing so! I'd like to thank The Bronx Zoo for the inspiration!

@choicesficwriterscreations Tagging others separately.

[maxybabyy]

It’s almost half past eight when the door opens and breaks Max’s focus.

Usually, people don’t come into this room. It’s too noisy, too hot when it isn’t completely freezing outside.

Lewis comes by occasionally, uses the nanodrop for his DNA samples. But his project is on the tail-end, and he’s too deep in the writing phase to even be on the lab cleaning rota. Max knows he was meant to stay, that Toto wanted to build a part of the group around him and his expertise. But funding runs out quickly; what was hot five years ago, may as well be old news today.

But it’s Daniel who pokes his head in, smile wide as he spots Max in the corner.

“There you are, Maxy.” He says, pushes the chair closer to Max before sitting down. “Alex said you’d left, but your stuff was still in the office, so.”

He doesn’t have a lab coat on, but always he doesn’t wear it. Max doesn’t know still if it’s an Australian thing, or because he is a pharmacist maybe, but also Oscar does it.

“But I have my gloves on today, Maxy.” Daniel said yesterday when Max had commented on it, trying not to stare at the lovely white tee shirt Daniel had been wearing. He wiggled his fingers as a tease, the bright pink gloves Seb had brought as a joke. He would have to at least be a large to escape the bright blue nitrile hell Max and the other mediums were saddled with. “Don’t get used to it though, just Oscar’s apparently shit at aliquoting piss I’ve learnt.”

“So what are we doing tonight, Max?” Daniel asks now. He is sitting on the chair the wrong way; elbows on the back of it with his chin in his hand. He couldn’t sit like that, Max thinks, at least not for very long. Not like Daniel can, like he does in their shared meetings when Christian and Zak remember they have a grant together.

“The university said the power would be out for a while tomorrow, so I of course have to shut down the MS,” Max says, huffs when he has to turn back to the computer.

The email had come Wednesday night, barely any information except for the notice of a power outage within eighty hours. Max had used the reply-all function to tell them to go suck an egg, turned off his phone and gone for a run.

Checo should of course be the one to do this, senior to Max in every way but one. But last time Sergio had been in charge of shutting down the systems, Max had come in the next day unable to complete calibration, and they had to replace two different parts.

It’s a new instrument too, and always he can be – the mass spectrometer can be a bit fussy when you have to shut it down. But Max has been working with mass spec since undergrad, was the second author on GP’s Nature Communications paper. Had come to Christian’s lab for this very instrument, so he of course knows it best.

“Always they say we are a part of a core facility, and still, they do this,” Max says. He’s already discussed it with GP and Jonathan how it isn’t okay, with the facility manager who hasn’t touched probably a mass spectrometer in his life. 

Daniel also hasn’t worked with MS by himself before, but he would of course understand, would know it isn’t okay to do this.

“Was the Friday bar alright?” Max asks. He had gone too for a bit, shared the last dregs of gin with Charles, pouring the tonic directly into the bottle to get the most of it. “George said he made a quiz, but to me it sounded very boring. There was a part, I think, where you had to spell out chemicals’ names.”

Daniel laughs, and it sounds so loud in their tiny room for two. Daniel has of course always had a very lovely laugh, but it sounds even better like this. The two of them only. Max likes it like that the best.

“Yeah ah, George kinda went to town on the goon sack instead,” he says. “I reckon Alex had to carry him home.”

“George drank the wine?” Max asks. “No! But that is so old, it’s been in the fridge since Liam graduated.”

“He went for the sangria too, it wasn’t even good fresh.”

“Always George should not be in charge of this, of drinking and parties,” Max says, remembers the nightmare his grad party had been. “You are of course very good at it, how to make it a good night.”

“You think so?” Daniel says, soft, hesitant. Max looks up from the instrument with a frown, touches Daniel’s hand where it’s been hovering in the air, like he didn’t know if he could touch him. Always he can. Max should tell him this, maybe.

“Yes, Daniel.”

“Then, would you go somewhere with me tonight?” He asks, closes his hand around Max’s. It’s different to work like this, one-handed and typing slow. But Max doesn’t want to pull away, keeps his hand in the warmth of Daniel’s.

“I think I am too tired for the club, Daniel.” Max says softly. He has gone before, after the Friday bar. But he cannot do it tonight, his body is too tired. He doesn’t think he would survive if he did, considers already if he should take the bus home and leave his bike behind.

But to his surprise, Daniel laughs, squeezes their hands together. “Nah, I was thinking we could maybe go get some food? You said you’ve been craving like, tacos, and I’ve found a place down by one of the bridges that I thought we could try. If you wanna, of course.” 

Daniel has only been in the city for five months, but already he has made friends in high places, in the low ones too. 

“I would love to, but always I don’t know how -“

“Hey, we’ll just leave whenever you’re done, no rush, Maxy.” Daniel says. 

Max nods, “Then it of course sounds very lovely. It will not be that much longer, I think.” 

“I’ll be here,” Daniel says softly. 

He pulls his hand from Max’s, the loss of touch, of warmth is sudden, but Max knew it would happen. But Daniel doesn’t leave. 

He doesn’t go back to the office to work on the paper Max knows has to be sent back with major revisions, doesn’t go over the postdoc application Zak isn’t supposed to know about. He pulls out his phone instead, plays one of those indie rock albums that Max has come to like. 

It’s very nice, Max thinks, his own earphones still dead in his ears. 

The MS does finally shut down, leaves the room almost quiet except for the music.  

They’re in the basement to get their bikes, Daniel will go in front because he knows where they’re going. He wears a helmet now too, one of those fancy Hövding airbags that will inflate if he crashes. 

“So I won’t mess up my hair, baby,” he had said, the collar loose around his neck when he came into the office to show it off. Max doesn’t care, thinks he looked cute in Max’s borrowed helmet, but this is good also. 

“Hey Maxy,” Daniel says now, one leg swung over the bike. “Would it be cool with you if this was a date instead?” 

Max almost stumbles over the pedals, but he doesn’t, corrects himself so he’s upright and staring at Daniel, who watches him back almost shyly. 

“It would of course be very lovely, I think, if this was a date,” he says, faint. 

Daniel's lips stretch into a wide grin, and Max cannot help but return it. 

“Cool, let’s do that then.”

[buggybuggs]

asking another question about the scrimblys what is everyone's favourite drink :)

WAHOOOOO gf is probably too far in to answer so i shall take this upon myself...

Including Alchyholic drinks along w/ other ones as well (convincing myself to not write as much....)

Ashe - Monstrin culture probably has their own weird Spirit type drink, which yeah she'd have, but she would probably be too self conscious to allow herself to drink tooo much. She'd enjoy a nice tea every now and again, but would allow others to let her try various sodas, she'd be amused by them Aivoni - a nice red wine or Sangria, but otherwise a nice lemonade would satisfy her Vae - a pink squirrel! or anything else sweet and with milk. maybe a shirley temple too. otherwise she'll enjoy some juice! Mastiff - ROOTBEER!!!!!! She takes vodka like a champ tho, she can go without drinks for a few days but then easily beat anyone in a shot competition... the miracles of dogs... Vess - I dont see her too much of a *drinker*, but she LOVES smoothies. especially if it has mangos in it. She'll happily have virgin styled drinks, but wouldnt find herself in the situation to do that anyway bc she doesnt like being social Merina - No preference with alcohol, she'll see anyone nearby and immediatly tell you "let me have that, but more" BUT she can't handle it well AT ALL!!!! she'll have a bit and then be half asleep at the bar. Regular drink wise? Sprite. That lemon lime gets her good.... plus it pairs well with spicy food [Okapi sadly gets a partial skip again, but itd probably be some fancy cocktail. i need to think of her more, shes one of the more recent monstrin ocs!! very sory!] Prongy - DR PEPPER ALL THE WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! no alcyhol for prongy, it scares her. Cammy - Get this thang a beer!!! a nice lager plz to pair with his grill. otherwise, they'd look for a strawberry flavored drink, or maybe a classic cola Kroma - SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS or maybe a flavored seltzer but she may or may not being having a bit more shots than she should.... Imp - she LOVES rum, rum and cokes. otherwise she'll have some weird tea at a coffee shop Sam - those like, jack daniels mixed drinks? those. or a nice margarita. maybe a hard cider. Non alcoholic? she'll enjoy apple flavored soda, or grape if its available. she doesnt threat though if neither of those are available Trace - ENERGY DRINKS. monster? yes. redbull? yes. she'll take a jeagerbomb, or otherwise an assortment of weird shots of whatever is available.

Buggy likes a long island or an amaretto lemonade (tastes like cotton candy, or a strawberry soda or a good cola

Truck will have good cookies and cream milk. alcyhol? idk! is that healthy for a pokemon,...? Magnezone dont need to drink, beep boop robot

[parisupdates]

Ring in the New Year Gala || December 31, 2023 - January 1, 2024

What better way to ring in the New Year than with drinking around the world? No, I don't mean to get on my private jet and just go - it wouldn't fit all of Paris. But, I have the funds to bring the rest of the world to Paris.

You're welcome,

Heather du Pont-Moreau

When/where does this event take place in game?

The gala will be held on December 31, 2023. This event takes place at the du Pont-Moreau Residence, which is located in West Paris.

How long do we have to write?

Threads can begin on Sunday, January 6th @ 12:00 AM EST and must be wrapped up by Sunday January 13th @ 11:59 PM EST.

What else do we need to know?

Aside from every other detail in this post, it should be noted our first interest check will still occur on Sunday. You are not required to participate and you will not need to pause your regular threads; but we ask that any threads related to the event are tagged clearly either using a personalized tag or as #paris.event:001. We ask that any starters specifically for this event are also tagged as #paris.event:001 in addition to being tagged as #paris.starter.

This event will include a decent set of drinking games from around the world hosted by friends of Heather's from abroad, live entertainment, and fine cuisine. Some examples can be found below; but please feel free to use your imagination or even suggest some that we could add to this post.

Games & Activities

Goon of Fortune (AUS); Loosely based upon Wheel of Fortune, this is yet another drinking game where players must sit in a circle, this time underneath a Hill Hoist-style clothesline. Attached to one end of the line is a bladder of goon, the local term for cheap, boxed wine. Spin the line, and whomever the bladder stops above has to drink. And no, you never need to buy a vowel or ask to solve the puzzle.

La vache qui tache (FR); No surprise, you’ll need a wine cork to play La vache qui tache (“The Cow Who Stains”), of which one end is blackened by a candle flame. Players take turns calling out fellow players by their pre-assigned numbers until someone screws up in remembering an opponent’s number. At that point, your face gets spotted with the blackened cork and game play continues.

Ping Pong Pan (JPN); Start in a circle with one person saying “ping” then, going clockwise, the person to their left must say “pong.” Then, the next person says “pang” while pointing to a random person, who must then say “ping,” and so on. Seems like they could really spice this game up with an actual ping pong ball and some Solo cups.

Sapo (PE); Unlike most drinking games, which simply involve a table, some alcohol, and some drinkers, Sapo actually involves an apparatus that seems a little costly. Purportedly created by an Incan king, players today toss tokens at a board adorned with a brass sapo (toad) and 25 holes. Tokens that land in the toad’s mouth are worth the most.

Kinito (ESP); Kinito is like Yahtzee for drunks. In this popular game in the Basque region, players sit in a circle (of course). One player shakes two dice inside a shaker, then privately looks at what she rolled, telling her opponents what that number is (which may be a lie). The next player guesses if she is being truthful or not, then rolls his own dice, trying to score higher. At least sangria is usually present and ample.

Pon/Toma (MX); In this game, a six-sided dreidel is employed, with each side bearing a drinking instruction (“toma dos”). Sit in a circle with a community libation in the middle, and then spin the top—whatever the dreidel lands on, you do (i.e. “toma todo”—drink the whole cup).

Bear Paw (RUS); In Bear Paw, a large mug of beer is passed around in a circle. After each player takes a sip, the displaced fluid is replaced by vodka, and the game continues. In theory, eventually the mug will be pure vodka, at which point vodka is displaced by beer, and so on. Winner is last person standing.

Fuzzy Duck (UK); In this game, players sit around in a circle, alternately calling out “fuzzy duck” or “ducky fuzz.” If a player, upon his turn, inadvertently calls out “does he?” then play immediately resumes in the opposite direction. If a player screws up on his turn, he drinks—simple as that.

Kastenlauf (GER); Kastenlauf literally translates to “box run,” and indeed, this drinking game involves running with a beer crate while methodically chugging its contents. Teams of two carry a crate full of beer (20 bottles) between themselves while each drinking a bottle. The first team to finish all their beer and cross the finish line wins.

Party games; Manhunt, charades, Uno, Marco-Polo (the more drunk - the more fun)

Photobooth

Bowling Alley

In-home Movie Theatre

Dance floor & DJ

Silent auction of AJ's things (out with the old)

Sip and Paint class with Tina Fey | Sip and Paint Splatter with Anne Hathaway

Tattoos by Koolsville

Cocktail mixing class with Mr Lyan

Houseplant by Seth Rogen pop-up ( get your goods, guys )

Forever Golden pop-up ( permanent jewelry )

12 AM firework show from outside garden (nice view of Eiffel Tower) -sparklers available

Event Features

Bars & Food

Cocktails are free and run all night, including an extensive Red & White wine list, licensed bartenders ( 11 bars at disposal ); specialty drinks for the night include The Ball Drop ( pornstar martini ), 2024 ( amaretto sour ) and Moreau ( Red wine spritzer with Merlot ) Each of the 11 bars are based off a specific country; comprising of a chef from each country who crafts the dish in which the country is known for, and a mixologist who makes the cocktail in which the country is known for.

Italy by Chef Massimo Bottura ; Negroni and pizza

Mexico by Chef Enrique Olvera ; Margarita and Tacos al pastor

China by by Chef Susanna Foo ; Baijiu and Kung Pao Chicken

Germany by Chef Alfons Schuhbeck ; Schwarzbier and Brot & Brötchen

America by Chef Bobby Flay ; Mai Tai and steak burgers

Japan by Chef Masaharu Morimoto ; Sake and sushi

Morocco by Chef Najat Kaanache ; Berber whiskey and B'ssara

Greece by Chef Georgios Evlampios Petretzikis ; Ouzo and Gyros

United Kingdom by Chef Gordon Ramsay ; Whiskey and fish and chips

Peru by Chef Gastón Acurio Jaramillo ; Pisco sour and alpaca burgers

Barbados by Chef Creig Greenidge ; Rum and cou-cou and fried flying fish with spicy gravy

Live Entertainment

Comedy show by Taylor Tomlinson, Pete Davidson and John Mulaney

Special performance by the artists (dancers) of the Moulin Rouge

Intimate performance by Lady Gaga

[1d1195]

the WAY I LITERALLY do the same too when I’m about to mention my friend “Sam” to any irls bahaha but honestly you’re living your double life but that’s kinda cool! Its giving Hannah Montana lol

Teaching is hard, but teaching math is like ?!?!? I mean math does get a bad rep and I have been a hater ngl lol but like it’s not a YOU problem ya know lol so I wouldn’t blame you for being over teaching some kids and some are just straight up menaces lol

And THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE BIRTHDAY WISHES BESTIE!!!! I love you very much❤️!!!! My psych exam wasn’t too bad tbh! I immediately dipped once I finished my exam bc I was not staying for the lecture portion! And I did have my first legal drink!! It was a peach flavored wine! And honestly tasted like juice which I loved lol

And a nice surprise was most definitely reading the final chapter of Dolcezza!! Let me tell you… IT WAS SO GOOD OMG!! THE SUSPENSE WAS GREAT! Omg I was so anxious while reading it, in a good way though! When I tell you I was so scared for the MC… LIKE MY GIRL DID NOT DESERVE ANY OF THAT! And my heart literally BROKE while reading the convo Harry had with the stalker :( it was just so sick reading how he talked about her and how she loves playing “games” with him. And how he knew every detail of her schedule… LITERALLY A PIT IN MY STOMACH! And when he called her HONEY I WANTED TO VOMITT BC IT SOUNDS SO GROSS COMING FROM THAT MAN😭in my head the stalker got fucked up by Harry like bad bahaha like I said I’m not for violence but yeah Harry was left✨ untouched ✨lol

And her family coming to her :( it was so nice seeing them like outwardly express their concern for her if that makes sense? It was nice to see how she was being taken care of since it’s typically the opposite! It’s SUCKS that it had to come from this situation but hopefully in future blurbs we can see their relationship change!

Ahh I just love them so much! I did not expect it to end this way but honestly THIS WAS A GREAT WAY TO END IT!!!!! I could never be disappointed with anything you post! You will always amaze me!!!-💜

I always wanted to be Hannah Montana so here's my moment hahaha

I've wanted to be a teacher since I was in kindergarten. Math I figured out a bit later, but I won't bore you with the details of my geekiness (If you think my writing is good, you should see my Complex Analysis HW 😍🤓)

The only alcohol I like drinking MUST taste like juice. Otherwise I won't drink it (whiskey tastes like shoe leather 🤢) Peach Sangria is one of my my FAVORITE summer drinks! So happy for you, glad you had a good birthday! A lecture after an exam??? That is surely a crime. Def glad you left in favor of celebrating

hehehe I'm saving any writing skills about fighting (which are none--I will need to study Rocky and Creed movies) for another story 😉 so for Dolcezza I am hoping everyone won't mind having to read between the lines but yes. I'm fairly certain Harry knocked him unconscious and shoved him in the laundry room. I know it wasn't very nice, but I definitely wanted people to feel anxious and nervous. I wanted him to sound creepy 😭 so I'm glad you felt what I was trying to do, thank you for that!

The family thing was a little spur of the moment, but I thought she deserved a little more attention than normal from them 💕

I posted it in another ask but honestly it wasn't exactly the ending I was originally going to go with but yeah! I'm glad you loved it! Hope you have a relaxing weekend now that exams are done for the week (hopefully) Love you lots!

xoxo

[sithlordmando]

request a drabble!

i’m in the mood to write drabbles so send requests!

i write for mostly star wars, kingsman and the mcu!

i’m comfortable with writing most things, but i will let you know if there’s an issue w a request!

[bomberqueen17]

when life gives you really sweet “red” wine that’s been in your fridge so long there’s mold on the label 

you use it to make sangria!

semi-relatedly oops i think i’d better eat some more solids.

[deliontower]

the person who holds me together | n.r

summary: you and Natasha have just finished a mission and the only thing you want is to crawl into bed and sleep. instead Natasha convinces you to have a few drinks which leads to hidden secrets coming to light.

pairing: Natasha x Reader (gn)

warnings: swearing, fluff and hints of smut (i can't write smut so forgive me for limiting it a bit)

word count: 765

a/n: wow this took a while for me to write 😅 but here it is! you know i think i'm starting to like country music too, might write more stuff with it. thank you the kind words and sending the request in! i hope you like it as much as i enjoyed writing it. Not edited well but I’m feeling lazy so pls for give any mistakes

the song

Another mission was over and you couldn’t wait to get out of the tight clothes that were somehow important to the mission, you wouldn't mind if Natasha kept her dress on though, Jesus you were in love with her.

But she was your best friend, and you were so scared that if you voiced how you felt you would lose her.

You looked up and grinned as Natasha came to the booth you were sat in carrying a tray, “Saw they were doing fresh Sangria and I couldn't resist getting some” she explained sitting down.

Her blue eyes shone as the string fairy lights caught them, your breath left your body, just about everything you knew did too, including the hotel room number.

After multiple rounds you lent back Rubbing your eyes you laughed, “How can you even think about drinking? All I want is to crawl into bed”.

She looked at you, head resting on her shoulder smiling, “Finish the jug with me then you can sleep all you want” she winked.

You bit your lower lip, you weren't 100% sure you could trust yourself being drunk around her, the truth no matter how big always came to the surface when you were drunk.that’s how Clint came to know about your crush on Nat. But no matter what arrangement your brain came up with, your heart couldn’t say no to Natasha.

“Okay fine” you agreed, taking a glass, “But when I'm stumbling around you’re gonna have to help me to the room”.

She grinned and you swore she blushed a little. “ seems fair” you laughed rolling your eyes.

xx

The one jug of sangria turned into three, feeling dazed you looked around the emptying bar. You snapping back into reality you realised Natasha was speaking. “Huh?” you asked looking at her,

She shook her head grinning. “You really can’t handle your booze”.

You exhaled putting your head down on the table, “my captain didn’t allow it” You stayed still enjoying the cold table, cooling your flushed cheek.

“You know” Natasha started, reaching out a hand and resting it on your head. You closed your eyes against her touch, savouring it. “You kind of remind me of sangria”.

“What?” you opened your eyes, making Natasha’s hand move to rest on your cheek.

She was still smiling when she continued, “you know sangria is just wine with fruit in it right?”. She waited for you to say something, when you nodded she carried on. “If it weren’t for you, I'd be incomplete, just bits of fruit sitting around”.

You were silent just looking at her. Natasha hadn’t moved but worried began to eat away at her face. She pulled her hand away holding it to her chest.

“Tasha” you exhaled her name. “Look at me”.

She did as you asked.

You take her hand and lean in. Natasha didn’t move until your lips met. Straight away she kissed you back. You sighed against her lips, taking everything about her in. The smell of her hair, how soft her hand was in yours and the way she tasted of sangria.

She pulled back lips swollen, using her free hand she held your face running her thumb around your lip, looking at her you kissed her thumb, tasting the wine from your lips. A coconut scent from her hair.

“We should take this to the room,” she suggested breathlessly. Head spinning.

The walk to the lift and the lift ride you could barely keep your hands off each other. If you weren’t touching her, feeling her against your skin you felt incomplete.

Your back hitting a door was when you knew you had reached the room. Nat didn’t pull away as she unlocked the door, kicking it shut. You marvelled just how skilled she was.

Without using words you both headed to the bathroom, again no words were needed she knew you’d lift her on top of the counter. Her legs pared giving you room to slip between them.

You looked to her shoulder looking at the freckles, her skin begging to be kissed. Against the white tile walls her hair shone.

Red like the sangria.

She worked on the buttons of your shirt, sliding her hands along your collar bones. She gingerly kissed your lips and muttered one word. “Shower”.

Neither of you were fully undressed. Your shirt still hung on you half unbuttoned, her skirt was pulled up around her waist, zip still up.

Lovingly she stopped and looked into your eyes, “you’re so beautiful”. And then you smiled, smiled like you never had before

[kazoo5480]

Additional Tags: Inspired by Once Upon a Time (TV), Alternate Universe - Once Upon a Time Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, First Kiss

Summary: Emma Nolan and Killian Jones had been best friends since they were kids. What happens when they begin to grow up, their friendship falling apart, but Killian is still in love with Emma?

"Are we having a party Mom?" Killian asks his mother, as he piled his plate with food, and sat at the old wooden table in their kitchen with his stepdad. Nemo smiled at him and flipped the page in his newspaper, his glasses perched low on his nose.

"No my love, it’s Emma's 10th birthday. So we are bringing some food to her party in a little bit" Alice replied to her son, and continued tossing the salad she made. "Now get changed and clean your room up before we head over," she said and Killian ran to his room.

Liam was laying on his bed along the adjoining wall, his posters of his sports heroes watching down from the walls, reading a comic and Killian changed his clothes. Liam didn’t seem to be paying him attention when he spoke.

"So, what did you get your girlfriend Emma?" Liam asked Killian.

Killian shook his head, scratching behind his ear nervously. "Nothing. Was I supposed to? Doesn't mom usually do that? She isn’t my girlfriend" He asked, now feeling anxious that he was supposed to do something, and didn't.

Liam rolled his eyes, “make her a card real quick, and give her something from you" he said.

Killian searched high and low, and then he got an idea. He drew her card and went to the bookshelf grabbing his favorite book of fairytales. Emma always loved sitting under their tree reading them aloud when the weather was warmer. He bolted down their steps towards the kitchen and asked his mom to help him wrap it.

"Here Killy, write her a note inside the cover," and handed him a pen. He sat and thought of what he wanted to say to his best friend.

"Happy Birthday Emma. I love you"

Killian Jones

Alice smiled and wrapped it up for him in the pink sparkly paper, and she handed it to him. His blue eyes earnest and wide, she handed him the barbie also for Emma and called Liam down. She looked at her husband, and he smiled, shaking his head.

“That boy is in love and doesn’t even know what it is” Nemo chuckled, and kissed Alice’s cheek. Alice smiled at her husband.

“Lucky for him, he has a great dad to help him figure it out,” she said, kissing his cheek, and headed up the steps to get dressed.

They walked across the tree-lined street, following the pink balloons into Emma’s backyard.  Killian spotted Ruby and Emma near her clubhouse and carried her presents to the table before running over to join them.

Emma grinned wide, throwing her arms around his neck, and he hugged her back. "Happy Birthday Swan," he said, and Ruby laughed, dragging him inside the tiny clubhouse. They hid out in there forcing Killian to again partake in playing barbies with Emma’s new Barbie dream house that she had begged her parents for.

“Killy, Ken has to kiss Barbie” Emma pouted, and Killian rolled his eyes.

“Why do we have to play this, can't we go out to the party and play with everyone else? I thought a lot of people were coming” he said to Emma and Ruby laughed.

Emma shrugged, “okay, you don't have to play,” she said sounding a little sad. Killian clutched her hand, and dragged her out after Ruby, squeezing it tightly.

He gave her a look that said I will play with you later, but not in front of other people. Because Killian would play barbies all day with Emma if that's what she wanted to do, just like she would play Ninja Turtles anytime he asked, and she never complained. She loved being April O’Neil.

Elsa and Anna and their parents lived behind Emma’s family, and they came in through the adjoining gate. Their new neighbors the Fa’s brought along their daughter Mulan. Ariel and her dad came, a few of her older sisters too, and Liam’s best friend Graham and his mom showed up.

Alice and Mary Margaret sat drinking sangria on the patio while Dave and Nemo grilled. Granny came out with a beer and sat at the table, enjoying the break from her restaurant, and she smiled watching Ruby playing. Mary Margaret waved at her sister Regina as she came out the back door, a glass of wine in hand, and she smiled at Robin who had joined Dave and Nemo at the grill.

Mary Margaret looked around and noticed Henry and Roland playing, but she didn’t see Emma or Killian. She was about to get up when Ruby came out the door of the clubhouse, and Emma and Killian came out behind her. She smiled and went back to her conversation.

"Killian had me wrap Emma's special gift specifically from him," Alice said quietly, and laughed telling her best friend. Mary Margaret beamed, "I can only imagine," she said and Alice nodded.

"$20 bucks they get married," Granny said and the women laughed nodding. Regina laughed with them nodding in agreement.

“If we should only be so lucky” Alice sighed. “And Liam, I think he has his sights set on Elsa, but won’t tell Nemo, says she is too young, but it is all over his face” she laughed.  

"Dinner" Dave called out, and everyone lined up, Killian and Emma whispering conspiratorially.

"Tonight, outside your house?" He asked quietly, and Emma nodded.

"Come on Jones, are you afraid?" Emma teased him.

"Never," he said blushing to the tips of his pointed ears, he wondered what she had in store for him though, feeling a little nervous.

Emma giggled, and took the plate from her dad, going to join Ruby, Elsa, Anna, and Henry sitting on the lawn.

Killian made his way over, followed by Roland, Liam, and Graham. They all sat in a circle, Graham and Liam talking to Elsa, and Ruby was telling them about the track team Granny had made her join this summer.

Killian took a moment and whispered to Emma. “Why do you want me to come over tonight?” he asked.

“I want to show you something, but I can't right now Jones,” she said, rolling her eyes. Killian wondered what in the world she would possibly have to show him at night, making him sneak out.

Emma’s Aunt Regina brought out a beautiful Barbie cake, and everyone sang. Her little brother Henry helped her blow out the candles, and she ruffled his hair when he hugged her. Mary Margaret photographed everything, and everyone that day.

Emma sat opening her presents, and when she got to the mermaid Barbie from the Jones’s she ran to hug them all. “You have one more sweetie” Alice whispered in her ear and pushed the small square present in her hands. She looked at Killian, who was avoiding her eyes, and she smiled.

She tore the paper off and gasped, and he caught her gaze, his cheeks blushed scarlet and she ran towards him knocking him back on the grass in a bear hug.

“Thank you, Killy,” she said, and he nodded trying to act completely normal. Emma opened the card he drew, a comic strip of them, her like a princess, and him as a pirate, on a birthday adventure. She laughed, “this is amazing!” she said, and Alice smirked at Mary Margaret as they watched her son nearly burst into flames of embarrassment.

Killian was hoping she wouldn’t open the book right there in front of everyone, and mercifully she didn’t. She hugged and thanked everyone for her presents, and when the sky turned dark, people began heading back to their homes, and he stopped and looked back at Emma.

She held her hands up, “ten” she nodded.

Alice and Nemo led the boys home, Nemo demanding they both shower. Killian did so quickly, eyeing the clock. He had an hour, he could make it an hour. Liam was in their basement with Graham who was sleeping over, so he went down and watched them play the Nintendo for a while, and snuck upstairs, looking around.

His mom and dad’s door was shut, and he crept out the back door. He walked in the shadow of his driveway, crossing over to Emma’s house. Her house was dark but he could hear people in her backyard, as he smelled a bonfire.

“Psst” came a whisper and Emma was standing by the big Oak tree in her yard, the shadow covering her, but she was in her pink nightgown and bare feet.

“What do you want to show me?” He asked her in a whisper as Emma grabbed him by the hand and tugged him toward the tree under a cloak of darkness, the streetlamp the only illumination over them. He could see her long curls blowing lightly in the breeze, her green eyes sparkling mischievously.

Emma smiled at him, “I opened the book. I love you too Killy” she answered, and placed her hands on his shoulders. Emma leaned in, her soft lips pressed upon his.

Killian’s mind was going a hundred miles an hour, and before he could respond Emma was pulling away already.

“You wanted to show me a kiss?” he asked, stunned, and Emma nodded.

“That was my wish, I wanted to kiss you Killy” and he grinned at her, his stomach somersaulting.

He leaned in and kissed her one more time, a soft quick kiss, and she giggled quickly covering her lips with her fingers.

"You taste like bubblegum," he said grinning at her, shaking his head.

“Goodnight Jones” she whispered and ran back into her house, her pink nightgown floating behind her.

Killian felt the oddest sensation running through him, she was his best friend, his very best friend, and he couldn’t imagine kissing another girl for the rest of his life.

He was careful as he crawled into his bed, undetected, and laid there looking at the comics on his wall. He kind of felt like a superhero. He had gotten his first kiss. Would they kiss all the time like his parents? Or hers? Because that was a lot of kissing. He wondered if she would tell anyone, he hoped not, he wanted this to be their secret.

His last thoughts before going to sleep were blonde curls and soft lips that tasted like bubblegum.

Over the next few days, Killian didn’t see Emma much, they were all getting ready for the end of summer, and back to school shopping. His mom and Nemo dragged Liam and him to every clothing store in town, school supplies, and by the time he got home, he realized it had been three days since he saw Emma.

He walked over and knocked on their Red front door, and Mrs. Nolan opened the door smiling. “Hey Killian, she is upstairs with Ruby” and he nodded heading upstairs.

He knocked on the closed door, hearing giggling inside, and Emma saying come in.

“Hey guys,” he said and sat on the rug beside Emma.

Emma looked over at him and smiled, “Hey, we were just about to play again, you want to play?” she asked, and he nodded while Ruby dealt the cards out to him, and Henry walked by joining in too.

“Any three’s?” Ruby asked.

“Go fish,” Killian replied.

“Boom!” Henry exclaimed, and laid out his last pair, beating them all. They booed him playfully and he ran off hearing Roland downstairs.

Ruby looked at her watch, “I gotta go, Granny will be waiting for me. See you guys at school” she said and headed out.

“Did you tell her?” he asked Emma and she shook her head.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because you don’t tell people your birthday wishes, even if they come true Jones,” she said.

“Do we have to kiss all the time now?” he asked, and Emma shrugged, smirking at him.  

Emma blushed a little, not expecting him to ask her questions. “Probably not. I just knew I wanted to give you a kiss like Wendy gives Peter Pan, but my Mom told me that’s not a real kiss, and I didn’t want to kiss anyone else. So I wished it would be my best friend” she said.

“Killian, your mom is calling you for dinner” Mrs. Nolan called from downstairs.

“I’m coming!” He called out and leaned forward brushing his lips against Emmas quickly, and paused for a moment, watching the smile that graced her face.

"One more," he said and leaned in again, catching her soft lips against his own, and took off running down the stairs.

“Bye!” he waved at Emma’s mom, running home.

Mary Margaret shook her head watching him run across the street, and waved at Alice nodding at her from her own doorway across the street.

“Oh boy,” she said to herself, laughing.

@holdingoutforapiratehero @sailtoafarawayland​ @omgmarvelous

@holdingoutforapiratehero  @hookedmom @xsajx @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @katie-dub @ohmightydevviepuu @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook​ @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @girl-in-a-tiny-box @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @lyssapup27 @swanlovato @kaoslikesstuff @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @lkles08 @wyntereyez @bubblegum1425 @xhookswenchx @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @dreamingdreamsalways @oncechicagolove @andiirivera @vvbooklady1256 @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @vampcoffeegyrl23 @enchanted-swans  @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @lavenderbudd @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @sarahpaq08 @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @xouatxcs @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @xemmaloveskillianx @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084 @carpedzem @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @scientificapricot @cocohook38 @wisfan3000 @chrisilybrooke @pcrcabcth @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @kingofmyheart14 @badwolfreturns @itsfridaysomewhere  @fallingforthecaptain @lovethelifeyoulive1106 @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @omgmarvelous @justanother-unluckysoul @anothersworld @purplehawkcaptain @jennjenn615 @sailtoafarawayland @superchocovian​ @hookedonkillianforlife87

[agentlemuse]

Dea!!! I am so in love with your Buddie the old guard fic I've read it so many times now I LOVE IT could you maybe write a little sequel to it with Eddie whitnessing Buck dying and coming back to life for the first time! No pressure obvs but you'd make me super happy! thanks again for writing the buddie old guard au fic ITS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!

Hayley I am so sorry for making you wait!

Also on AO3

“How much are you willing to wager,” Hen challenges, her own stack of bills being dropped on the table like a declaration of war.

Chim eyes everyone carefully, emptying out all the money in his wallet with a confident pop of his gum. “I’m all in. Buck?”

“All in. Eddie?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on! It’s tradition,” Buck begs, practically pouting as he tries to get Eddie to join in on the bet. He refuses every time and every time Buck acts surprised.

“Pretty sure the only tradition here is them getting all of your money,” Eddie points out with a smirk, earning a sharp laugh from Athena.

“You are too young to be this lame,” Buck sighs dramatically as Eddie rolls his eyes. He might be lame, but at least he will keep his money.

Just like that Hen is crowing as Buck laments his defeat. He looks to him with wide eyes in hopes of sympathy but all Eddie can do is laugh. He did warn him.

Athena and Bobby were chuckling fondly from their spot in the corner, speaking to each other without saying a word as they do often do. After one night of partaking in too much of Hen’s sangria he asked Buck if they had developed telepathic powers and Buck laughed so hard he snorted red wine out his nose. Considering their immortal status he didn’t think it was quite that funny, but Buck disagreed.

Looking at them now he still says it was a valid question.

“Okay everyone listen up,” Athena announces, drawing the attention of everyone with the simple command. “We have some news.”

“New job,” Buck asks eagerly, already wanting to speed ahead.

Bobby and Athena share a sad look and for the first time since Eddie has known them they look like they’re struggling to find the words to say. Athena stands, picking at a scab on her arm.

A scab.

She shouldn’t have a—

“I’m mortal.”

It’s funny how you can live for a millennia and a single moment can still knock you to your knees.

Athena could still have three, maybe even four, decades with them, but suddenly each moment is finite. He knew this was possible, Buck had told him about Abby, but it wasn’t real until now.

He may not know her as well as the others; hasn’t watched dynasties rise and fall with her, but she’s his family now. He foolishly thought he’d have more time before saying goodbye to family again.

But it’s not about him. It’s about Athena. It’s about the people who have loved her for centuries trying to wrap their minds around life without her.

Eddie doesn’t know much about Buck’s parents, partly because there isn’t much worth remembering from the way Buck tells it, but Athena is his mother for all intents and purposes. Now that she’s - not vulnerable (she’d stab him for even thinking it) - mortal, Buck has been like an overprotective mother hen. Athena has looked ready to strangle him on more than one occasion and he’s pretty sure the fussing is more likely to take years off her life than anything else.

And it’s sweet. Funny even, how Athena looks at him with such exasperated fondness.

Only that overprotectiveness makes a reckless Buck even more reckless.

Which, fine, Buck’s immortal. For now. Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? The idea that immortality just ends was hypothetical before now.

And Buck is—

Buck is—

Buck is his family. His person. The only reason he doesn’t spend this eternity of his lamenting every new day.

Buck has been on this earth for nearly a millennia without him, but Eddie doesn’t want to live without him. Not for a thousand years or a thousand days or even a thousand minutes. Not because he needs Buck, but because he wants him. He wants his kind eyes and infectious laughter beside his side. He wants the feel of his breath on the back of his neck as he lays curled in behind him. He’s not sure he can go back to sleeping alone.

A shame he’ll need roughly a thousand years to figure out a way to finally tell him, which is not going to happen with Buck being so eager to get himself killed.

Buck insists on throwing himself into danger, which means Eddie has to throw himself further. He’s younger, newer, he can take more hits. He knows logically that Buck must have died hundreds of times before him, but he hasn’t died since Eddie killed him. Maybe he can’t keep him alive forever, but he can certainly try.

Bobby catches on first.

“Nasty hit you took today.”

“I’ve had worse,” Eddie says nonchalantly, fingers flexing against a phantom wound long since healed. Buck stormed out earlier, pissed he jumped in front of a bullet for him only to bleed out slowly. Tonight Buck will hold him closer, making sure he’s still in one piece; a bittersweet ritual they’ve formed together. He’ll take the anger if it keeps Buck safe.

“You’ve been taking a lot of hits lately.”

“Saying I should work on my ducking skills?”

“Saying you can’t take them all,” Bobby replies, cutting off whatever comment he might be opening his mouth to say with a look. “When is the last time Buck died?”

“You should ask—“

“When?”

“When I shot him,” Eddie admits, jaw clenching.

“He’s had a good run, but good runs end. He knows what’s at stake just like everyone else. We can’t outrun the inevitable. You’ll drive yourself crazy if you try,” Bobby says softly, an unspoken pain behind his eyes. “Don’t miss out on the good worrying about the bad.”

“Wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t so eager to put himself in harm’s way,” Eddie deflects, no real malice in his words.

“Funny, that’s what Buck said about Athena.”

That was hardly the same. Buck is being reckless, Eddie is just—

Well it’s not like he can take care of him through his cooking, now can he?

The next few months they take it easy on the missions, focusing on time together as a family. It’s good, great even, but it’s only a matter of time before the world has a need for their set of skills.

Which is how they find themselves in this dimly lit warehouse in what is clearly a trap.

He and Buck have taken the front, trying to clear a path to the escape route so they can’t get pinned in. The sharp pops of bullets flood his ears, a fog of plaster dust filling the air as bullets lodge in walls instead of bone.

There are too many blind spots and not enough cover.

There’s shouting, cries of pain, but none of them familiar. They’re gaining ground, they’re getting out, they’re—

The sick sound of a bullet striking flesh, muscle, bone enters his ear. A spray of blood hits his cheek.

Eddie turns to see Buck crumple against the ground.

Suddenly there is no noise, no friends or foes. There was only Buck lifeless on the floor, his head a gaping wound of brain matter and skull.

He falls to his knees beside him, blood soaking his trousers as he reaches out to help him. Only, he doesn’t know how to fix this.

“Buck, wake up. Buck. Buck.” He doesn’t recognize his voice, doesn’t recognize the frantic panic of this strange sound coming out of his mouth.

He thinks of all those zombie movies he used to watch with his sisters when he was young. The only way to kill them was to take out the brain. They couldn’t come back from that. Buck couldn’t—

Eddie shot him in the head once, but this was different. There hadn’t been this hole. There hadn’t been brain matter scattered across the floor. Buck hadn’t taken this long to wake up.

He can’t do this without him. He doesn’t want to do this without him.

“Wake up, wake up, you have to wake up,” Eddie demands, then begs.

“Eddie, we have to keep going,” Chim says from across the room, providing cover from enemies he couldn’t care less about. “He’ll catch up.”

He ignores him. Of course he ignores him. He can’t leave Buck. He’s going to wake up, he has to, so why is it taking so long?

The team moves on, because there is no other choice if they want to get out of here, but Eddie doesn’t move. He waits for a sign of life, anything, but Buck stays perfectly still. He should be healing already, blue eyes fluttering and a smile on his lips. He shouldn’t be so still and pale under the stark stream of red.

He’s so lost waiting for puffs of air that aren’t coming he misses the footsteps behind him. It’s not until he feels rough hands grabbing at him that he remembers the fight. He feels a knife slide through his ribs as they try to drag him back. He thrashes wildly, scrambling for any weakness he can exploit. They’re not going to take him away from Buck. He’s not leaving him alone. He’s not—

A single shot rings out and the man Eddie was fighting falls.

Eddie turns back to Buck who is sitting up with a gun in hand.

Eddie scrambles over to him, pulling him close, feeling the side of his head to make sure he’s whole.

“Eddie, we need to catch up with the others,” Buck urges, already back in the game. How can he be so calm? How can he be so steady? “Eddie. Eddie.”

“Your birthmark grew back.”

Buck’s face grows soft for a moment, letting out a puff of breath like it was punched out of him. Eddie can feel the wound on his side healing, but he ignores it, busy feeling the pulse of Buck’s heartbeat where his hand rests on Buck’s neck.

“Eddie, we have to keep going.”

“You weren’t waking up. You took so long to wake up.”

“I’m here, Eddie,” Buck insists, resting his forehead warm and whole against Eddie’s. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you, okay? I won’t leave you. Now let’s go.”

Eddie goes with him because there is no other option. He doesn’t want to be anywhere without him.

It doesn’t doesn’t get any easier to watch him die, but Buck always comes back to him. He has to believe he always will.

[gaemkyuu]

The Future

Warnings: none!  A/N: This is the last part! I hope you’ve all enjoyed my mini series with my own character. I’m debating if I should add one last one with a child in the mix, but I want to know what you want! Send me a message or leave me a comment! Requests are open :) Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece on Charlie Gillespie. In no way do I claim or declare that Charlie’s portrayal is accurate to real life. I do however, own Teagan Valencia :)

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

The Teagan Valencia Series: The Meeting  / The Fight / The Proposal / The Present / The Recovery / The Future

The Future

“Teags? Baby you gotta get up now... Teags, come on. I can’t let you sleep in any more. Plus, breakfast is here and you need to eat before things get crazy” 

Teagan snuggled into her pillow a little more, groaning at Charlie’s soft voice that disturbed her slumber. She was never a morning person, but she knew today she had to be. After a solid year of planning, the countless hours she spent at Bridal expos with Savannah and her cousin and all the tedious decisions her and Charlie had to make, their day was here. She rolled over to face his side of the bed and opened her eyes, squinting at the sunlight and the beauty before her. Charlie was smiling, familiar twinkle in his eyes that she often saw when he was excited.

Today was the day!

“What’d you get us for breakfast?” he chuckled, kissing her on the nose, not surprised that she cared more about the food than getting up and getting ready for their big day. 

“Well, you’re going to have to put some clothes on and meet me on the balcony to see. You get five minutes” she groaned at his conditions and pulled the blanket over her head, not wanting to leave the warmth of the bed. Grabbing her phone off the nightstand, she saw that it was 7am and with a big sigh she got up and threw on a hoodie and sweats. She followed the scent of her nose into the living room of their hotel room, shivering a bit as she felt the cool air from the balcony come through. The view of the mountains from their balcony was breathtaking and adding Charlie while he softly played his guitar made it even better. Teagan wished that she could freeze time to just soak in this moment, capturing the image in her memory, but she knew they were on the clock now. She padded softly over to Charlie, kissing his lips quickly before taking a seat at their table for two. He had arranged the table with everything that was previously on the room service trolley, including the small arrangement of flowers in a slim glass vase at the center of their table.

“Well this is sure fancy! Thank god for room service, no?” she smiled lovingly at him as he rested his guitar on the side of the table. He grimaced at his placement and went to move his guitar to a more secure location, eventually deciding to run it into the suite, placing it on the couch. She giggled at his antics and as he hurried over back to her.

“I mean, seeing as we both love food and most people hate us when we’re hangry, I thought a nice, big, but healthy, eggs benny would be the perfect fuel for the start of our day” he smiled brightly, running his hand through his hair as she took a sip of coffee. He offered her both of his hands across the table and she placed her hands in his, both bowing their heads and saying a silent grace before beginning to eat their meals. As they sat and ate their breakfast together, they enjoyed the calmness of their environment briefly discussing what their respective schedules would be like that day. The two had made a point that they wanted to start their big day together. The entire event would be busy, but having a moment together to enjoy their last meal as an engaged couple was probably one of the best decisions they had made for their special occasion. However, this moment couldn’t last forever as Charlie’s phone started ringing and a loud knock at the door signaled the end of their breakfast. Charlie opened the door as he answered his phone, smiling at Savannah and Teagan’s cousin Michelle as his silent hello, continuing his conversation on the phone.

“It’s Wedding Day! Good morning our beautiful bride!” Teagan smiled at the excitement her two maids of honor had as they rushed in to give her big hugs. “You all ready for today?” Savannah asked, her giddiness radiating through her smile.

“Let’s do this!” Teagan smiled, getting up from her seat picking up the plates from their breakfast, the other two girls helping her. Charlie caught her waist after she put the dishes on the trolley and pulled her close as she giggled at the sudden action. He started to tickle and kiss her as she helplessly fought to get out of his grip. “Charlie! Come on! That tickles! No fair!”

“Just one last kiss as your fiancé?” he pouted, turning her around to face him. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, giving him a kiss, but he quickly deepened it. “I’m going to go to Owen’s room to get ready. Everything’s already over there. You gonna be okay getting ready here?”

“Leave her with us Charlie. We’ll take care of everything!” Michelle smiled, reassuring the groom. Charlie opened his mouth before Savannah interrupted him. “Call you if we need anything. We know!” and with one more quick peck and a hug, Charlie slid out the door. “Alright miss, you got 30 minutes to shower before the hairstylist, makeup artist and photographer arrive. The other girls will be over with snacks and sangria in about an hour! Hop to it!”

The next few hours were a blur. After Charlie left, Teagan did shower and get into her bridal robe for the rest of the morning. True to Savannah’s words, she was swept away to get her hair and make up done while the photographer took pictures of her getting ready. Teagan’s sister, Charlie’s sister Megan and Teagan’s childhood friend showed up right on schedule with her bridal gown and the other bridesmaid dresses. In a whirlwind of hairspray, powder and camera flashes, wine glasses were toasted, music played softly in the background and Teagan’s mother showed up to help her put her wedding dress on.

Meanwhile, Charlie was playing rock band in Owen’s suite with Jeremy and Charlie’s brothers, snacking and toasting the occasional alcoholic beverage to one another. Eventually the boys got ready and headed over to the ceremony location making sure everything was fine. Charlie was grateful that Teagan had suggested hiring a wedding planner and coordinator as he had no idea what still needed to get done. However, the planner had everything under control and simply used their muscles to help move a couple things around, eventually shooing them away to a small room as guests started arriving.

Teagan shared soft tears with her mother as she put on the finishing touches on her outfit, buttoning up the last buttons on her dress and placing the veil on her head. They both cried a little harder when her father entered the suit to see his daughter all dressed up. After a few teary moments and a touch up here and there, the group took a few photos and headed down to the lobby of the Fairmont Whistler where their limo awaited.

As the music at the ceremony began, Charlie took his cue, with the help of the planner that is, to head down the aisle with his parents at his side to the altar. As each couple walked down the aisle and lined up on either side of the altar, Charlie eagerly searched for his bride. He smiled and high fived their ring bearer and flower girl as they made it to the end of the aisle and into their seats and as the crowd rose, the music pausing for a moment, Charlie knew it was time. As the music played, his eyes lit up as his bride and soon to be wife appeared at the top of the aisle. Teagan locked eyes with him and held his gaze as she floated down, her parents at either side. For the both of them, it felt like an eternity had passed until Teagan arrived at the altar, the both of them hugging her parents and quickly taking their places in front of the officiant.

Just like that, the ceremony began without a hitch and it went perfectly. They completed wedding Traditions in the Filipino culture for Teagan’s family, with a few clumsy moments with Charlie. Teagan had insisted that if Charlie was uncomfortable with the traditions, they could leave it out of the ceremony no problem, but Charlie always loved learning about her culture and thought it would make the ceremony that much more special to include it. When it came time for the vows, Owen passed Charlie a folded up piece of paper and with a deep breath he prepared to read it. But for a moment he paused, reading over the first few lines and then crumpled it up, shoving it into his pant pocket, the crowd laughing at his actions.

“I wish I had the perfect words to describe how much I love you or how amazing of a person you are, but there simply aren’t. I am eternally grateful for how much you have impacted my life. Before you, I was a chaotic mess that would be running around from thing to thing. I mean, I’m still a chaotic thing that runs around from thing to thing, but I now have someone following me, supporting me, reeling me in when I’ve gone off the deep end and occasionally engaging in the chaos with me. I remember feeling like absolute shit when I spilled coffee on you that day, but you were so kind and forgiving. You’ve never met me with anger and you’ve always shifted your life around for me. I knew what commitment was, but I didn’t understand until what it was until you came into my life. I’d always be off on some adventure, doing whatever it is that I wanted and I never knew that I wanted, needed, someone in my life until I left you in Canada after asking you to be my girlfriend. I know I don’t have the best timing, and I eat weird food that make my breath smell weird, but I vow to love you, cherish you and be with you even after life decides to separate us. There is no one else in this lifetime for me, other than you. Mahal na Mahal Kita” Teagan smiled and used the Kleenex Savannah had given her to blot away the tears, as Michelle passed her a neatly folded paper.

“I wish I was as good at winging it, but I’m not so I’m going to read mine” the crowd chuckled at her comment as she took a deep breath, steadying herself before reading. “Monsieur Gillespie, je t’aime. From the moment you spilled coffee on me, I knew that fate had brought you into my life for a reason. At first, I thought you were put into my life to force me to live a little and take a break from my life, but I was so wrong. It wasn’t until I was going through therapy, that I realized why you were a part of my life. I’ve always loved everything about you, from your adventurous side to your caring gentle side and yes, even your chaotic side that, at times, makes me want to kill you. But I didn’t know how much I needed you until I faced the biggest adversity I had ever faced in my life. Throughout my entire recovery process, and as I still recover from the trauma, time and time again you have shown me that I am worthy of love.” her voice cracked and she had to take a few deep breaths before continuing. “Even though I felt broken, ashamed and disgusted with myself, you continued to do whatever it took to help me feel like me again. Had you not been with me through the whole ordeal, I don’t think I would be standing here today, marrying you, as the happiest woman in the world. I vow to love you with every ounce of my being and I commit an eternity to loving you and supporting you. Il n’y a rien dans le monde qui peut enlever mon amour pour toi. Je t’aimerai aujourd'hui, demain, la semaine prochaine, pendant les mois qui suivent et toutes les années après ça.” As she finished, Charlie wiped away a tear that managed to escape his eyes and held her hand tightly.

In this moment, there was nothing that could take away the peace that befell both of their hearts as they vowed to spend their lives loving one another unconditionally. They exchanged their rings, sealed their commitment to one another with an “I do” and were officially pronounced Husband and Wife. As they walked up the aisle to  the main lobby area of the Nikita Lake Lodge, they giggled and stole a few kisses here and there before being joined by a photographer and starting their two hour photoshoot. Teagan’s parents interrupted their photos briefly to bring the two a snack and coffee from the Tim Hortons down the road, which the newly wed couple were grateful for.

As the reception drew nearer, the couple were ushered into the limo with the rest of their bridal party and were welcomed by Teagan’s hairstylist and make-up artist for touch ups. Everyone was quickly ushered into a small waiting room away from the main reception hall and they indulged in hot hors d’oeuvres and champagne, awaiting for their time to enter the reception. If Charlie and Teagan could have it their way, they would’ve celebrated like this for the rest of the evening, but they knew that there would be cries of outrage without a reception from both family and friends.

As the night drew on, they dined on delicious food supplied by the hotel caterers, occasionally interrupted by the clinking of glasses to steal a kiss from one another. They shared their first dance as a couple and Teagan smashed a mini cupcake in Charlie’s face when they cut their cake, but their favorite part was the toasts. Savannah kept her composure, while Michelle did not as both girls gushed over the newly wed couple and the memories they shared with the both of them. Owen went completely off script but Jeremy was there to help him get back on track for the both of them to deliver a great speech that had everyone doubling over in laughter, but also tearing up at the end. When the couple said their Thank yous, and wrapped up for the night, the part they had been looking forward to the most had finally arrived.

The dance floor, unlike most weddings, was full with people the entire night. Everyone had the time of their lives dancing and the newly weds were occasionally interrupted by their guests who wanted to wish them well and say their goodbyes. Owen did his signature Flash Dance jump with Charlie and Jeremy, while Maddie, Jadah and Savannah killed it when Beyoncé came on. Charlie and Teagan were honestly the happiest they had been in a long time, but the night had to wrap up eventually, and as much as they tried to help and clean up the reception, their bridal party forced them to go back to their suite.

Upon entering their suite, they were shocked to see that the entire place had been cleaned, as a  bottle of champagne on ice and a plate of chocolate dipped strawberries welcomed them on the counter. Teagan munched on the strawberries as Charlie popped the champagne pouring them a small amount in the champagne flutes. The tired, but happy, couple sat on the couch cuddling and sipping champagne in a comfortable silence, hand intertwined. As Teagan gave a big yawn, Charlie couldn’t help but smile before a yawn overcame him as well. 

“I really don’t know how couples have the energy to have sex on their wedding night. Like honeymoon I get, but man this was a long day!” Charlie burst out laughing at Teagan’s tired observation and kissed her on the forehead as he got up from the couch. He extended his hands out to her, offering her to help her up from the couch, knowing that a wedding dress wasn’t always the easiest to move around in. Charlie helped Teagan out of her dress, kissing her back softly as he undid every button sending shivers up her spine. When she was out of her dress, she quickly picked it up and hung it on the hanger it originally came with as Charlie undressed to his boxers and climbed in bed. As he flicked on the light of their bedside table and plugged their phones in, Teagan shut the main bedroom lights off and crawled into bed with her husband.

“So how does it feel to be Mrs. Gillespie?” Charlie wiggled his eyebrows at her, pulling her closer to him. She pondered for a moment, already knowing an answer, but knowing her fake hesitation would catch Charlie off guard. His smile faltered for a second, a little confused.

“Honestly? Pretty fuckin great!” He laughed at her response, kissing her on the lips. “How does it feel to be married to me?” Charlie paused a moment, eyes twinkling and grinning at her.

“Pretty. Fuckin. Great” 

[engagemachine]

“Should you be drinking that much?”

Also filling prompt #3 by @napiersmirk and @darkobsessions1989 -- “What would you do if I didn’t come back?” as well as the prompt left by an anonymous reader several weeks ago, “What if I say no?” 

I’d like to preface this by saying that my writing is shit here, so keep your expectations low... but I was very impatient to post this and wrote this in one sitting. 

More prompts here! Ask away!

“She’s been out of control,” Ressling says on the steps outside the house, sounding worn-out and tired, his key crunching into the lock of the front door.

The Joker stands behind him, grinding his teeth. Impatient.

It’s been two weeks since he last saw her. Two weeks. He’s never left her alone this long before, and it’s the longest they’ve been apart since Nathan.

In the immediate months following the aftermath of Nathan’s death, she couldn’t handle being alone, would scream and cry for him when he didn’t have her doped up out of her mind. Sometimes he almost misses having an excuse to wrap his hands around her neck, how good it felt to choke her into unconsciousness, how limp her body was afterwards, when he’d let her slump to the carpet. The thrill of being able to watch her like that, have her so completely at his mercy. He would leave her there, passed out in a golden patch of warm sunlight, striped by the slats in the blinds, and she’d wake up some hours later not knowing what had happened, crying out for the very monster who had strangled her to sleep.

He hears her even before the door opens—or rather, he hears the ungodly howling of her music—something loud and obnoxious and bass-heavy, angry girl-pop of the bad break-up variety. As if. He knows this sort of music—and ‘music’ is a term he uses generously here—is not within her usual repertoire, and this need to listen to something so blustering and irate intrigues him.

Just what has his girl been up to while he’s been gone?  

A screech over the stereo, then. A long whine of strings from the guitar and an impassioned scream from the ear-splitting vocals of the lead singer.

I fucking hate your guts!

Ressling casts him a look as they step inside, something wary—exhaustion heavy in his eyes—a look that conveys, this isn’t even the half of it.

The Joker urges him forward with a sharp jerk of his head. He’ll hang back. Let Ressling go first. He wants to see how she responds to Ressling when she thinks he isn’t there to oversee.

She’s in her old bedroom, the door half-cracked, and when Ressling pushes it open all the way, steps in to turn the radio off, he hears her indignant screech.

“Hey! I was listening to that!”

He keeps to the shadows of the doorway where she can’t see, watching her, soaking her up. It’s been two weeks. Two long, fucking weeks. He tongues at the inside of his cheek as he watches her, eyes raking over every inch of her. He feels starved.  

She’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, the headphones he got for her dangling around her neck, not plugged into anything. She’s surrounded by a handful of magazines. A pile of dirty laundry and an empty pizza box. Several wine bottles, too—all pink and fruity-colored, where he can practically smell the damp sweetness of cherry and orange sangria wafting around her room—and he wonders how she managed to get her hands on all of those without an ID. 

“Should you be drinking that much?” Ressling asks, sounding so much like an exasperated parent that the Joker knows it’s going to piss her off.

“What are you going to do about it?” she snaps. He hears the swish of the wine inside of the bottle as she knocks back another mouthful.  “Spank me again?”

She’s hot-blooded and full of fire as she stares up at Ressling—drunk—and the Joker’s brows raise, impressed by her verve, even if her courage is somewhat aided by alcohol. There’s something exciting about watching her stand up to other people, something about that that makes his spine curl, and he can’t help but enjoy the heat of her fire, even if the flames aren’t directed at him.

Still, her behavior’s clearly gone unchecked for too long, even if it’s satisfying knowing she’s been so miserable without him, so off-the-rails. His extended absence has provoked an even stronger response from her than he’d previously thought. He wonders what effect a month would have on her. 

He doesn’t know if he could make it that long himself.

He’d be lying if he said that seeing her didn’t light something up inside him, the dying embers of the fire he’d put out before he’d left growing hot again. He feels that heat spreading throughout his chest as he watches her from the doorway. Her in her little white t-shirt and blue shorts. Her red knees, rugburn from the carpet, and her messy twin French braids, like maybe she’d slept in them.

He takes this opportunity to make his presence known, filling up the doorway with his bulk, his eyes on her the whole time, hungry for her reaction. She immediately turns to look up at him, her face full of surprise before her eyes soften, her brows pulling together.

“Mr. J?” she slurs.

She yanks her headphones off from around her neck, looking dazed. She tries to get up to greet him, but promptly falls back onto her ass, her legs giving out underneath her. It’s one of her more pathetic displays that he’s ever seen.

He steps further into her room, watching her with his dark eyes, and Ressling bows his head, knowing he’s no longer needed. He exits without a word, and the Joker waits until he hears the front door close before he also closes the door, keeping his eyes on her the whole time.  

The room feels smaller this way, headier, and she must notice too, because the action of the door closing seems to sober her, and she sits up a little straighter, watching him with fear glossed all over her eyes.  

“My, my,” he says. “You really went to town, didn’t you?”

She looks at him. Swallows. “I—I wasn’t sure when you were coming back.”

“Mmm,” he hums. “I can see that.” He allows his gaze to briefly flit around the room. It looks like a hurricane tore through and capsized everything in its path. He ambles towards her dresser—casual-as-you-please—his attention catching on an item dangling from one of the brass knobs. He slips his finger underneath the band of a very scandalous-looking pair of red panties. He brings them up to eye-level and makes a show of inspecting them, and when he looks back at her, her cheeks are flushed with shame.

“Did you, uh, stay busy while I was gone?” he asks innocently.

“Those aren’t mine,” she blurts, looking so wide-eyed and afraid, like a deer trapped in the hot beam of headlights.

“No?” he says. He looks at them again, intrigued by the idea of her wearing something so naughty. “Guess you won’t be needing them then.”

Taylor looks shocked for a moment, and then her eyes narrow and she scowls at him. “What are you gonna do with them?” she bites, all teeth. “Wear them?” 

He grins at her, cocking an eyebrow. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

She’s too wasted to snap back with a witty reply, knowing she’s already backed herself into a corner.  “Well, they’re not mine,” she says again, folding her arms across her chest, looking so goddamn petulant his mouth twitches as he watches her. 

“Then, uh, who, pray tell, do they belong to?” 

Her eyes widen a fraction at his question, like she hadn’t been expecting him to ask. 

“They’re Ressling’s,” she blurts.

“Hm,” he says, “I’m, uh, not sure these are his color...” 

“They are,” she says, nodding vigorously. “They’re his favorite.” 

The Joker can’t help it--he snorts. “Yeah?” 

She nods again, looking a little more energized, like she thinks he’s really buying her little drunken lie. He leans back against her dresser, crossing his legs at the ankle, still dangling the underwear from the tip of his finger. 

“And how did these wind up in here?” He asks because he wants to see how elaborate of a web of lies she can weave on the spot. He also asks because she is the sorriest liar he’s ever seen. His girl’s built so hard-wired for honesty, anything else is practically unthinkable. He watches her closely and tries not to grin. 

She uncrosses her arms, twists her hands in her lap, biting down on her lip and furrowing her brows a little as she thinks. “I was doing his laundry and I... I put them there to dry!” 

“Well,” he says, “wasn’t that just sweet of you.” He does grin now--full of sarcasm--and Taylor smiles back a little, kind of uncertain, but still not catching on. When he lifts the panties to his nose and makes a show of sniffing them, her mouth parts in shock. 

“Funny,” he muses. “Think they kind of smell like you.”

Taylor’s face burns in response, and she knows she’s been caught. She turns her face away, staring at some invisible stain on the carpet. “Can I have them back now?” she mumbles. 

“I don’t think so,” he says, and he watches her eyes widen as he stuffs them in the pocket of his jacket. “Don’t think I want my girl wearing something so slutty.” 

Taylor looks up at him sharply. Surprised. Shame colors her cheeks an even deeper shade of red, maybe a shade of indignation, and he levels her with a challenging stare, daring her to refute. 

She withers under the weight of her shame, her eyes dropping briefly to his pocket. Then her shoulders sag, and she heaves an aborted sigh, looking pitifully back up at him. 

“Why did you leave me?” she asks, that telltale crack in her voice, like she’s about to cry. “Why were you gone for so long?” She blinks up at him, looking so broken and sad. Oh, she really did miss him. Drinking herself into this little stupor. Buying cheap shit. Letting her anger fuel her pyre, the way she’s cradled her rage so close, so that it could keep her warm when he couldn’t.

He stalks towards her slowly. When he crouches down in front of her, resting on his haunches, she is watching him with rapt attention.

“Poor girl…” He puts on an exaggerated pout. “You just couldn’t stand it, could you?” he says. “The way you need me—” He puts a knee down on the carpet, reaches out for her to tug on the soft braid dangling over her shoulder, but she jerks out of his reach.

His eyes flash at her resistance, but so do hers. 

“I don’t need you,” she snaps, curling her lip at him. She’s so feral in this moment, he thinks, like a little kitty cat with the hair on their arched spine all standing at attention.

He grins at her. “Oh, but I think you do.” It feels good to get on his hands and knees, crawl the short distance towards her, crowd her back against the foot of the mattress. The glass wine bottles clink together as he shoves them of the way. He crawls over her legs, planting his arms on either side of her hips. “Just like I need you.”

She stares at him in her drunken stupor, her mouth parting, eyes a little glassy. Unfocused. Her gaze keeps drifting towards his mouth, like she’s hypnotized by the wetness of the red paint there.

He chuckles when she shifts to be closer to him, her mouth hovering so close to his own. He wonders if she’ll remember any of this in the morning.

“You really need me?” she breathes.

He nods. His dark eyes boring into hers. 

She takes a moment to digest this information, and he loves watching the way her eyes roam so openly over his face, the way she tries to read him. Soak him up. 

“Sometimes I—I think about running away,” she says, her eyes on his mouth again. 

He tilts his head, mouth slanted so close to her own. Now he’s staring at her mouth, too.

“Why would my girl want to do that?” he murmurs.

She swallows. “Just to see if I could,” she whispers. “And to see what you’d do.” She doesn’t say anything after that, and for a moment there’s just the sound of their breath mingling together. Her chest rises and falls with a little sigh, like a thought just occurred to her. “What would you do if I ran away? If I didn’t come back?” she whispers.

The Joker’s eyes darken, narrowing into slits. He shifts to bring himself closer, so close his nose bumps against hers for a moment, the parody of a preface to an almost-kiss.

“I’d hunt you down,” he growls, and there’s something almost surprising about the brutal honesty of this admission, like he’s just now realizing the lengths he would go to in order to make her his. “I’d find you,” he says. He pulls back to capture her eyes with his own. “I always do.”

She blinks her big green eyes at him, somehow looking both afraid and mesmerized. He knows these are not the kinds of questions she would dare to ask him if she were sober, that these are the kinds of questions she is afraid to know the answers to. 

“And if I didn’t want you to? If I... if I didn't want to come back?”

He draws back some. “Then I’d make you.” He cocks his head, gaze flickering to her parted mouth. His voice drops to a whisper. “But I’d bet you’d like that too, wouldn’t you?”  

Something changes in her expression when he says that, and he realizes suddenly—delightedly—that she’s been gunning for a reaction from him this whole time. That this was a game to her. 

She thinks he’s joking. 

It’s the only reason her eyes glitter when she’s the one to push forward, tilting her head, her mouth hovering just below his. Taunting him. She’s emboldened by the wine when she reaches forward, fisting the neck of his tie. She’s smiling at him when she says, “Try me.”

He grins back at her. 

For her sake, he hopes he doesn’t have to. 

[shefanispeculator]

Blake Shelton has 28 career No. 1 songs on the Billboard Country Airplay chart, and another seven that have reached the Top 10. It'd be easy just to stick with the singles in making a list of his best songs, but who likes easy?

Find plenty of deep cuts on this list of Shelton's 50 best songs, including his spiritual songs. Those are sprinkled all over the playlist — The Voice coach is a rare singer who can sing about drinking and heartache with as much conviction as his relationship with God. Fans will find a new one called "Bible Verses" on his Body Language album. It does well on this staff and reader partnership.

Songs with ex-wife Miranda Lambert and fiancee Gwen Stefani make the list as well, but the Top 10 Blake Shelton songs are all solo efforts ... with one exception. Is it strange that his most convincing bedroom ballad was a collaboration with a different "Gwen"? Cover songs by George Jones and Conway Twitty, collaborations with RaeLynn and Trace Adkins, and a co-write with Earl Thomas Conley all make this list of Shelton's top songs. Which is your No. 1?

Top Blake Songs: His Greatest Hits + Best Deep Cuts

Taste of Country staff opinion, and the commercial success of tracks from Shelton's 12 studio albums were certainly considered in making this list of the top songs. More than anything, we sought fan input, via sales and direct input. What's your favorite Blake Shelton song, and does it agree with our No. 1?

Below are the The Voice coach's 50 best songs. Lyrical integrity and production were also considered in this ranking. Really it's hard to argue against any of the Top 5, but we understand if there's a debate about placement. Heck, we encourage it!

Warner Music Nashville

No. 50: "She's Got a Way With Words"

Songwriters Andy Albert, Marc Beeson and Wyatt Earp wrote a clever country lyric, but the problem is, it felt too personal from Blake Shelton in 2016. This is the song that stopped Shelton's impressive streak of No. 1 singles. Sonically, very few songs from this era stand apart from one another.

No. 49: "Gonna"

" isn't a bad song — a strong case could be made that it's better than some of the singles ranked ahead of it on this list of the top 50 Blake Shelton songs, actually — the love story from 2014 just isn't memorable in any way. Think about it: At best you said, "I remember that song" but more likely thought, "which one is that?"

No. 48: "The Wave"

" is a unique metaphor for how a good love can wash away all of your troubles. Blake Shelton's song from Texoma Shore is another fan favorite. The mid-tempo track displays his voice nicely.

No. 47: "When the Wine Wears Off"

," an album track from Texoma Shore that could have been a single. The song's structure and flow is very similar to so many hits from this era of Blake Shelton.

No. 46: "Anyone Else"

When asked which deep cut they like most, Blake Shelton fans chose "

," an album cut from Bringing Back the Sunshine. This ballad shows a bitterness that's rare across the singer's discography, and certainly this list of 50 songs. It's packaged in a fairly unoffensive arrangement, but his lyrics really sting.

No. 45: "Over"

Blake Shelton gives a great vocal performance of a fairly ordinary song during "

," his fourth straight No. 1 single from the Red River Blue album.

No. 44: "I'll Just Hold On"

Shelton relied on a sitar to make this song stand out. It only worked to get him a Top 10 hit. The remainder of "

" is arranged more conventionally, making the outsider instrument something of a gimmick.

No. 43: "All Over Me"

" will always hold a special place for Shelton, as he co-wrote it with an idol, Earl Thomas Conley. The piano-led ballad finds the singer doing something truly unique: Showcasing a timid falsetto during the chorus of this poignant, pure country single. Lyrically it's difficult to keep up with, but sonically it's bold, like so many of his early hits.

No. 42: "Every Time I Hear That Song"

In retrospect, very few songs from Shelton's post-divorce album stack up against his earliest and most recent singles and deep cuts. "

" relies on a vocal hook, but the performance lacks urgency. Still, it hit No. 1 easily.

No. 41: "Sure Be Cool If You Did"

Shelton's Based on a True Story ... album started with "

," but every single that followed is far better and more engaging. This love ballad doesn't hurt for warmth, but the arrangement is milquetoast at best.

Rick Diamond, Getty Images

No. 40: "Drink on It"

Real life couple Jessi Alexander and Jon Randall joined Rodney Clawson for this track from Shelton's Red River Blue album. While still a No. 1 hit, "

" gets a little lost among other more dynamic performances and arrangements on this list of his 50 best songs.

No. 39: "I'll Name the Dogs"

" cast Blake Shelton as a husband in waiting, something his fans and the world in general were hoping for in his real life. The No. 1 hit from 2017 went Platinum on the strength of a pop-rock chorus and a charming lyrical hook.

No. 38: "Happy Anywhere"

" — the second of two straight single collaborations with Gwen Stefani — hit No. 1 and is a total earworm. It's hard to criticize the feel-good jam, but we'll say "Nobody But You" is a superior duet for the country couple.

No. 37: "Neon Light"

In a vacuum, "Neon Light" — a No. 1 hit, released in 2014 — is a funky, country and hip fusion that works. Across Blake Shelton's full catalog of hits and album cuts, however, it tries to do too many things that this singer does better elsewhere. For that reason, this track rates a bit low on this list of Shelton's best songs.

No. 36: "Granddaddy's Gun"

Aaron Lewis' version of this same song was more convincing, but Blake Shelton's "

" wasn't trying to act tough. The more sensitive singer's rendition was more sensitive and polished. The two men were targeting different country audiences.

No. 35: "A Guy With a Girl"

Blake Shelton celebrates his woman during "

" a No. 1 hit from If I'm Honest. The song is a sweet gesture, made atop a radio-ready arrangement.

No. 34: "Nobody But You"

The first of two straight, Gwen Stefani duets to country radio finds the couple trading lines as they tell a love story that can only be described as genuine. The No. 1 hit reached a very pleasing one million downloads quickly. "

" should not be confused with another song on this list. It's a progressive, pop-friendly ballad that truly simmers.

No. 33: "When Somebody Knows You That Well"

Of all of Blake Shelton's official singles, "

" faired the worst. It barely cracked the Top 40, possibly due to an outdated, string heavy arrangement. But it's not a bad little song. Harley Allen co-wrote this ballad and Shelton does OK in finding the right perspective. 'A' for effort, big fella.

No. 32: "Doin' What She Likes"

This charming No. 1 hit is best remembered for a music video in which a bumbling Blake Shelton burns the house down trying to cook a romantic dinner for Miranda Lambert, who makes a vocal cameo early. Sans video, "

" is a warm love song that's fit for a squeeze.

No. 31: "Just South of Heaven"

Another fan favorite from deep in Shelton's catalog, "

" finds the singer relying on a familiar mood over a welcome acoustic guitar and fiddle combination.

No. 30: "Came Here to Forget"

If you expected Blake Shelton's post-divorce album to include some heartache, you were right. "

is a dark country lyric atop an R&B-infused guitar line. His twang keeps it country, but the song is among his most progressive No. 1 hits. Often when he stretches the genre, it's done with a wink — not this time.

No. 29: "Sangria"

Few songs on this list of Blake Shelton's best smolder like "

." The love song rides a warm melody that covers for a barely-there hook. This 2015 hit was one in a string of No. 1 hits for Shelton, most of which went Gold or Platinum.

No. 28: "Jesus Got a Tight Grip"

When Blake Shelton does sit down to write, what comes out is often spiritual. Deep love songs and reflections on a higher power make up his short songwriting catalog. Jessi Alexander helped him with "

," a plucky country-rocker from 2019.

No. 27 Draggin' the River

" tells a dark story of two lovers escaping together, and in that way, it's very Miranda. Shelton's polished vocals and a sweetened production make this track from the All About Tonight EP very Blake, however. While not a single, it was a fan favorite back when they were a couple. We still dig it.

No. 26: "Minimum Wage"

Blake Shelton's blue-collar love song is no "Friends in Low Places" but the spirit of this song still hits today. There's not a lot of love-conquers-all messaging across his catalog, at least not as much as that of storytellers like

" is a mainstream effort that did its job of introducing a new album, but it's hard to put it high on this list of Shelton's 50 best at this point.

No. 25: "Footloose"

Blake Shelton didn't deviate much from Kenny Loggins' original version. The country "

" wasn't a radio hit, but it went Gold and introduced the country singer to an all-genre audience that was just beginning to learn of him via The Voice.

No. 24: "Some Beach"

One could make a case for "

" as Shelton's most important song, as it saved a career that was spiraling after a trio of Top 40 country airplay hits. This is the first time fans got to witness his sense of humor and sarcasm — remember, there was no Twitter in 2004. A pre

Rory Feek co-wrote "Some Beach," showing how wide the singer reached for great songs early in his career.

No. 23: "Bible Verses"

" is the faith song on Blake Shelton's 2021 album Body Language, and it's truly a highlight on the project. The singer approaches the topic with genuine humility that feels as honest as any love or drinking song he has recorded. A great play on a phrase pushes the song higher up on this Top 50 list.

No. 22: "Hillbilly Bone" with Trace Adkins

Blake Shelton proved he's a dynamic duet partner with this partnership with Trace

" is among his most well-known songs, even if it's not a Top 10 song on our list. Amid a catalog of songs with sexy, delicate women, this rocker with tough guy Adkins stands up and demands you pay attention. Even the haters have to smile!

No. 21: "Nobody But Me"

Did you even know that Shelton has a hit song called "Nobody But You" and "

"? The former is his most recent hit with Gwen Stefani, but the 2005 love ballad is the one that deserves a celebration. A jazzy piano carries the country singer atop this pleading love song. It's both memorable and effective.

No. 20: "Savior's Shadow"

Jessi Alexander returns to this list of the best Blake Shelton songs to offer a gentle message about faith and peace. "

" is Shelton's only Hot Christian Songs hit, reaching No. 14 in 2016. He's rarely, if ever, performs the song live.

No. 19: "The More I Drink"

," a Top 10 hit for Blake Shelton in 2007. The singer's early rompers are unmistakably genuine. In his later years, a certain polish would change the raw messaging, but that doesn't exist in this Brent Rowan production.

No. 18: "Playboys of the Southwestern World"

This is a song about best friends. "

" is a critic's pick for this list because we can recall him playing it live. The song is largely shelved now, but it still cooks. As a storyteller, few artists do better than Shelton, as some of the highest ranked songs on this list will prove. Playboys (No. 24 in 2003) is a different kind of story.

No. 17: "Lonely Tonight"

Give Shelton credit: At a time when few solo females could break in country music, he was doing what he could to celebrate talent.

is just one example of the hitmaker looking past stars who would have furthered his career to support Nashville's best. This dark ballad about a one night stand is a provocative conversation that just burned in 2014, a time where Blake Shelton was king. During "

No. 16: "Turnin' Me On"

Blake Shelton hasn't written very many of the songs found on this list of his 50 best. "

" is a rare case where he set out to write a song that became a hit, albeit a minor one. The simmering love song only reached the Top 10 after its 2018 release, but charts aren't everything. Years later it really stands apart from the rest of the songs he released to radio. You can feel his passion as he sings a song that he clearly had girlfriend Gwen Stefani in mind for.

No. 15: "I Lived It"

This Top 5 hit for Blake Shelton seemed to come and go, but we wish it would have stuck around as a catalog cut for the singer. "

" is among his best late model songs as it treads into new, nostalgic territory for a singer who is so often singing of love and love lost.

No. 14: "The Baby"

Blake Shelton cemented himself as one of country music's most promising young storytellers with three of his first four singles, including "

." The heartbreaking mother-son story is a gut punch for older country music fans. Melodically, the chorus gives it wings. This song from The Dreamer would become his second No. 1 hit.

No. 13: "All About Tonight"

" for Blake Shelton, and it's a song that will forever hold a place in his live show. It's kind of the theme song for any country concert, isn't it? In truth, Shelton hasn't released too many all-out jams like this one in the last decade, so it stands out a decade later.

No. 12: "Boys 'Round Here" With Pistol Annies and RaeLynn

Every once in awhile Blake Shelton drops a song that reminds you he doesn't take himself too seriously. It's critical to his artistry and an integral part of his longevity. "

" was his early 2010s version of that song. It's a sort of hip-hop-inspired redneck stomp with callback lyrics and his then-wife's supergroup supporting him. The song is just so much fun to bop along with, even a decade later.

No. 11: "God Gave Me You"

Blake Shelton took Dave Barnes' "

God Gave Me You

" and turned it into a Grammy-nominated, chart-topping country song. But that's just part of the story. The emotive love ballad is also what gave the singer the kick in the pants he needed to propose marriage to then-girlfriend Miranda Lambert. This is a tremendous vocal performance and certainly worthy of a high placement on the singer's best songs list.

No. 10: "My Eyes"

Blake Shelton and

Gwen Sebastian

kept a brother-sister kind of relationship after her time on The Voice. She even joined his band. That changed with "

," a true bed burner that beckons, "Come a little closer, come a little closer / Come a little closer, love the way you look tonight / My eyes are the only thing I don't wanna take off of you."

"My Eyes" was the last of a trio of great male/female collaborations that truly put new female artists on a pedestal. RaeLynn and Pistol Annies joined him for "Boys 'Round Here," Ashley Monroe jumped in for "Lonely Tonight" and Sebastian for "My Eyes." This was a time when women struggled mightily at country radio, but the singer did what he could to help introduce new talent.

Warner Music Nashville

No. 9: "Home"

You see a real change in Blake Shelton's commercial success beginning with his cover of "

" in 2008. One could argue this is his most important radio release, and his vocals stand up to anything else he's put out. Prior to his version of the Michel Bublé song, Top 20 was where he lived. After that, he rattled off a string of No. 1 hits as long as anyone ever: Nineteen of Shelton's next 20 singles hit No. 1.

Warner Music Nashville

No. 8: "Goodbye Time"

There is more than one famous cover among Blake Shelton's 50 best songs. "

" was a

Conway Twitty

hit in 1988, and the younger singer did it justice with a piano-led arrangement that showcased him as a premier vocalist. This song also exemplifies why he was hit-and-miss at radio in the mid 2000s. It followed the chart-topping "Some Beach," which followed a Top 40 song called "When Somebody Knows You That Well." It's good to go back and forth between good times and heartache, but with Shelton, the pendulum swung too far every time. It was hard to figure out who he was for most of a decade.

No. 7: "Ol' Red"

" is not Blake Shelton's best song, but it's his signature song. He can't play a live show without telling this story of a prisoner, a dog and a warden who gets fooled. Early in his career, Shelton wasn't shy about covering other artists, including Conway Twitty and (in this case) George Jones. His tie to the past has loosened in recent years, which is a bummer because songs like this are far more interesting than anything on the radio today.

Warner Music Nashville

No. 6: "Honey Bee"

There's not an easier song in Blake Shelton's catalog to enjoy than "

," his slightly saccharine, but still grinning love song from 2011. The track went triple-Platinum and is perhaps his most recognizable song worldwide today.

No. 5: "Who Are You When I'm Not Looking"

Joe Nichols

cut this song several years before Shelton would make it his best love song. Both versions are exemplary. It starts with the songwriting. Lyrically, "

" is more sensitive and poetic than anything else on this list. Each line is phrased as a question, and each question is one any woman can relate to. The magic is in this hitmaker's personal delivery. His range isn't needed for a subtle romancer that the greats would be proud of. Few country women will resist a warm smile when this No. 1 hit begins.

Warner Music Nashville

No. 4: "God's Country"

God's Country

" rejuvenated Blake Shelton's career. The country-rock song paints a vivid picture but it works so well because everyone who touched the song went for it 100 percent. The chart-topping hit is arguably his best of the last half-decade and an easy pick for Top 10 on this list of his greatest songs.

No. 3: "She Wouldn't Be Gone"

There's no song in Blake Shelton's catalog that paints a breathtaking picture with the same ease of "

She Wouldn't Be Gone

," his No. 1 song from 2008. He begins with, "Red roadside wild flower if I'd only picked you / Took you home set you on the counter" before his second metered stanza that goes, "Yellow sunset slowly dipping down in the rear view / Oh, how she'd love to sit and watch you / I could have done that a whole lot more."

The chorus of this song is where the tension lies, however. Shelton has told great stories before and delivered strong vocal performances plenty of times, but few songs find him so recklessly emotional as this ballad. It's almost unnerving to listen to.

No. 2: "Mine Would Be You"

" is a Top 5 Blake Shelton song because of the twist at the end that just crushes your heart. It's a love song, until suddenly it isn't. Jessi Alexander and company wrote it, but it's the singer's energy that makes the song special. As with "She Wouldn't Be Gone," there's a sense of panic so rare on the radio today. Shelton seems like such a cool character most of the time, but moments like this remind us of his gifts.

No. 1: "Austin"

Fans have, and will continue to, make a case for "

" as Blake Shelton's best song. It's certainly an all-time great debut single — one that would work in any era of country music. Early in his career, the Oklahoma native relied on veteran songwriters and producers like Bobby Braddock to shape his sound. These days everything comes with a little more polish, which is fine and probably even necessary.

You can't compare 20-year-old tracks like "Austin" with modern songs like "I'll Name the Dogs." Lyrically, his newest material lacks depth when held up against the rich tapestry of these early hits. So many songs from Shelton's first two albums make the Top 10 or even Top 20 of this list for this reason. "Austin" at No. 1? It's tempting to select another for the sake of being bold, but doing so would just be dishonest.

[elizabeethan]

Ladies Night

And the feelings right! this song was stuck in my head and thus was born a night of postpartum normalcy for our dear Emma. takes place in the It’s About Bloody Time universe (and no, this is not one of the one shots I actually plan on writing.) This is... pure crack. 

Also on Ao3

Rated M

~2200 words

When Mary Margaret Blanchard insists on a Storybrooke Ladies Night, one complies, lest one desires to be berated for the remainder of the calendar year.

“Oh yes, it’s ladies night, and the feeling’s right!”

“Ruby, stop.”

“Oh, what a night!”

“Please, Ruby. Please stop.”

“What, you're not a fan of Kool & The Gang?”

“Not particularly.”

“Get down on it, c’mon get down on it,” she says, closing her eyes and soulfully swaying her shoulders from side to side while she snaps her fingers.

“That’s not even the same song!” Emma groans as Ruby reaches into her center console for what she knows must be the AUX cord. “If you play Kool & The Gang right now…”

“Oh yes it’s ladies night!”

She wants so badly to stop the car, open Ruby’s door, and shove her out into the road. She wants to slam her own head against the steering wheel and maybe she won’t be able to hear any disco. She wants to go home and spend the evening with her baby, who’s just starting to babble adorably incoherent nonsense. But when Mary Margaret Blanchard insists on a Storybrooke Ladies Night, one complies, lest one desires to be berated for the remainder of the calendar year.

Mary Margaret got the idea to celebrate National Best Friend Day with her girlfriends and hasn’t let it go since. The sad thing is, National Best Friend Day was three months ago, but something got in the way.

(Emma had a baby the day before.)

She’s neurotically decorated her loft in pink and purple hearts, baked all kinds of weird heart shaped desserts, and insisted that each guest wears purple to match. Emma Swan does not own purple.

“You’ll have fun, darling. You should go,” Killian had told her, and what the hell does he know? Just because they’ve been together for a year and have a child together, that means he knows her?

She’s feeling a bit belligerent today.

But could she truly be blamed? Her sweet baby is home with her sweet baby daddy, and she’s been dragged out to ladies night with her mother and all of her mother’s friends.

Okay, fine. They're her friends, too. But her baby is so, so cute. Come on.

“Come on, Emma, this can’t be that bad for you. Tell me you're at least a little excited to see your friends. You’ve been holed up in your house since Corrine was born!”

“That was only three months ago! I’m on maternity leave!”

“You need a drink!”

“I’m breastfeeding.”

Ruby shrugs. “What’s it called? Pump and dump?”

She groans, rolling her eyes before focusing back on the road. “I’m your designated driver, and I don’t want a drunk infant.”

“Well, Killian is her father. Doesn’t he have, like, 200 barrels of rum on his ship?”

“I only saw a few.”

“You were in the storage place? What’s it called? Stowage?”

Emma blushes, because there was only one reason that she ever found herself among Killian’s rum barrels, and she was not about to share that story during ladies night.

Once they mercifully arrive at the loft, Emma and Ruby make their way up and are immediately bombarded with hugs from her mother. “Hi sweetie,” she says, planting a kiss on Emma’s cheek, and oh god, is she drunk?

“Hi mom…” Emma says timidly.

“Sangria? It’s made with fresh peaches and strawberries. Also, wine.”

She laughs tautly and thinks hard. Killian did his research, of course. They have a stock of breast milk in the freezer, and she can pump and dump, as Ruby so helpfully suggested. Killian even insisted that she should relax tonight and to not worry about him and Corrine, to just have fun. It took her a while to accept that having a drink or two tonight does not make her a bad mom. She even talked it over with Archie yesterday.

So, she nods, takes a clear plastic cup, and fills it with the fruity concoction.

And damn, it’s good. And it goes down easy.

It’s been over a year since she’s had a sip of alcohol in her, and it shows. One drink in and she’s feeling a warm buzz over her skin and a smile toying at her lips that she can’t seem to get rid of.

“Let’s see them, then,” Regina says with an air of irritation in her voice.

“See what?” Ashley asks.

“The pictures. We all know Emma is dying to show us all pictures of the baby.”

“Hey, Ashley has a baby, too,” Emma argues in an attempt to defend herself,

“Yes, but you still have that sickening new-mother glow. I know you have at least a hundred new photos since I dropped Henry off on Tuesday.”

She’s right, dammit.

Emma whips out her phone and shows off countless images of little Corrine. She’s gained close to eight pounds since birth, and she’s a chunky little girl. Her hair still hasn’t come in, either, so she’s cursed with a fuzzy bald head. Emma is convinced that she’ll be a blonde, but for now, she’s a cue ball. Her favorite feature of her daughter’s, though, is her ocean blue eyes.

“I miss her,” Mary Margaret says sadly, and Emma nods.

“Me too. Look at these cheeks!”

“She’s so chunky. And look at Hook holding her!” Tinkerbell cries, reaching for the phone and giving Emma a sweet smile once she’s zoomed in. “This is so cute. You have to frame this.”  

“I did.”

The evening goes on with games and lots more sangria, but Emma takes it easy after her second glass. At this rate, Ruby might end up being her designated driver.

After a few too many rounds of Cards Against Humanity, the game started to become too raunchy. When they first started, the answers were relatively tame, but when Ruby put down a card about a man on the brink of… something that made everyone in the room start hollering and blushing and nudging each other’s shoulders, it was clear where the night was headed.  

“Let’s play Never Have I Ever.” Emma would have never assumed Ashley would be the one to suggest it, but here they are.

“Yay!” Ruby agrees, clapping enthusiastically. “Everyone, raise three fingers!” Emma catches Regina’s eye roll and Mary Margaret’s nervous hesitation before they all put three fingers into the air. “Who wants to go first?” Silence. “Alright, me! Never have I ever… been a parent.”

Emma rolls her eyes now. “Ruby, come on! You’re knocking out, like, everyone here!”

“Right, everyone but me and Tink. That’s the point of the game, Emma.”  

“Alright,” Regina says brazenly. “Never have I ever changed into a different species.”

“Ooh, Regina, that’s fierce!” Mary Margaret says drunkenly as Ruby puts down a finger, now matching almost everyone else in the room, and then she asks, “Does Tink count?”

“Yes.”

“What!?”

“Emma’s next.”

“Never have I ever… um… shit. Um…”

“Yes, you have!” Ashley shouts with a giggle, and Emma blushes as the room bursts into laughter.

“Stop! Never have I ever… um… punched my true love in the face with a rock?”

Mary Margaret scoffs. “What? A compass doesn’t count?” she asks sarcastically.

“Huh?”

“Hook. During your sword fight in the Enchanted Forest. You punched him in the face with the compass, remember?”

“Why would you… Hook isn’t…”

Everyone stares at her. “Yes, he is, come on,” Tink says.

“Yeah, seriously. He’s due to propose soon.”

“What?!”

“Isn’t it almost a year now? How are you celebrating your anniversary?”

Emma’s tipsy self isn’t as emotionally mature as sober Emma. So, she bites her lips, widens her eyes, and changes the subject to something easier to talk about.

“Never have I ever been to a ball.”

Four fingers go down. Five sets of eyes roll dramatically.

“Never have I ever had sex while pregnant,” Ruby says, and seriously? How can she ask this many questions? It’s not even her turn.  

“Never have I ever had sex with a pirate,” Tink says, and not only is that surprising because Emma thought for sure that they had a history, but also because, apparently, Emma is now under personal attack.

“Oh, come on! You really haven’t?”

“Are you asking if I’ve had sex with your lover and the father of your newborn child? Because I’m not sure I’d answer you if I had.”

“I wouldn’t answer,” Ashley pipes up.

“I wouldn’t either, but I would do him.”

“Ruby!”

“Look at him!”

“I do, quite frequently!”

“How frequently?”

“I have one,” Mary Margaret interrupts, practically drilling a hole into Emma’s head with how hard she’s smirking at her. “Never have I ever had sex in my mother’s home.”

Emma’s jaw drops. “Mom!”

“I just wanted to know! It’s my house, and your sex life seems to be… very healthy.”

“What the hell makes you say that?!”

“Well, you weren’t as quiet as you thought you were every time you were sneaking out.” While she started speaking slowly, her pace picks up. “Honestly, it’s a miracle it took you as long as it did to get pregnant with how often you and Killian were—”

“Ooooh!” Ruby howls.

“No! Of course I haven’t had sex here!” Emma does note, however, that both Ruby and Regina put their fingers down at that question, so Ruby is out. Thank god.

“Never have I ever done it on a rum barrel,” Ruby says, as if she didn’t just lose the damn game.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Well, I’m out,” Mary Margaret says.

~~~~

“Fun time, love?” Killian asks into the darkness of the living room when Emma starts to slink onto the couch, much later than she anticipated. She’s already too-loudly busted into the bedroom room before even acknowledging Killian, checking to make sure Corrine was sleeping, brushing a finger gently over her fat cheek but stopping herself from picking her up.

“Mhmm,” she hums happily, flopping towards him and resting her head on his lap. “I played games. And I drank sangria.”

He laughs lightly, rubbing a hand, his left hand, up and down her arm once she lies down. He bends and kisses her forehead before saying, “I’m glad. You needed a night out.”

“I dumped.”

“…hmm?”

“I pumped. And then I dumped. When I went to check on her.”

“Ah,” he chortles. “Very good, darling,” he says as he squeezes her shoulder and laughs. “Who drove you home?”

“Ruby, the damn scoundrel. She wouldn’t stop trying to get me out!”

“Of the car?!”

“No, of the game. She kept saying stuff that she knows I’ve done, like had sex with a pirate, or had sex while pregnant, or had sex on a barrel of rum.”

She thinks that if he had been drinking, he would have done a spit take. That would’ve been funny. She would’ve made him clean the couch. “How does she know about the rum barrel, pray tell?”

She shrugs, looking up at him and smirking. “I’ll never tell.”

“You told someone,” he says pointedly and laughs, planting a soft kiss to her nose. “Did you have water, Swan?”

She nods against his lap, sighing. “I thought I was gonna have sex tonight, but I think I’m too tired.”

“Who were you planning on having sex with?”

Emma gasps, sitting up quickly and straddling his lap, placing both hands on either side of Killian’s shoulders. “You!” she says a bit too loud, and he winces softly before grinning and leaning up to kiss her again.

“I was only teasing, my love. I know you meant that.”

“Am I your true love?” she asks, and someone should tape her mouth shut now, right?

He stills, looking her in the eye and wrapping both arms around her waist. “What makes you ask that?”

“I said, ‘never have I ever punched my true love in the face,’ but mom said that one wasn’t true.”

He laughs at her again, and she’s glad that she could serve as such reliable entertainment for him this evening. “I’d almost forgotten about that, you know.”

“I know you threw that fight.”

He smiles, nodding at her as she rests her head against his neck. “Aye, I did. But it was only because I was smitten with the fiery blonde lass who trapped me at the top of a beanstalk.” She giggles and nuzzles her nose against his skin because Emma Swan is disgustingly in love, and you heard it here first. “I don’t know if I’m your true love, Emma, the only ways of finding out that I know of are rather sordid, but I do know that I truly love you.”

Dammit, she thinks. When has Emma Swan ever swooned before? The sangria certainly plays a role, right? “I truly love you, too, you big fuzzy idiot.”

“Did you just call me fuzzy?”

“Yeah,” she nods, reaching around him to pinch his ass with great effort. “Your big fuzzy butt.”

He laughs too loudly for a baby to be sleeping in the next room, and rolls her over onto her back, pinning her arms above her head and rubbing his chin against her neck. “Fuzzy butt? I’ll show you fuzzy.”

“No!” she squeals, laughing as he starts to nibble at her neck, and if she said that she was too tired for sex on ladies night, she must’ve been lying.

~~~~

~~~~

Tagging: (also here is my anxiety driven reminder to let me know if you want to be removed or added from my tag list)

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @emelizabeth88  @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @shireness-says @gingerchangeling @itsfabianadocarmo 

[lumiereswig]

What if plumette left the castle shortly before the curse, and then returned after everyone was cursed? (Yeah I saw you wanted to write that)

i did want to write it, ive wanted to write it for years, i’ve never had the balls to write it because it was such a fabulous concept to play with. but here what the hell, why not here it is:

it’s pre-curse times and plumette gets a message from her sister, peregrine, that she NEEDS to be the godmother of her baby and thus has to haul ass to the christening. this is awesome but also fuckkkkkk because her sister lives in Sweden like FUCK thats SO far away in eighteenth century times

so she hops on a plane—an eighteenth century style plane—so that’s a rowboat—and waves goodbye to lumiere and douche canoe prince and mrs. p and all the rest, and she bippity-bops her way up to scandinavia to snack on some lutefisk and hold her first little itty-bitty niece. This being Sweden everything takes ages, like first the baby has to be born and then they have to plan the baby shower and then they have to do all this other stuff, so it’s months and months, all of which Plumette spends sending letters to Lumiere and eagerly waiting to hear back from him.

“mon cherie today the prince spent the entire day taking portraits off the wall and throwing them across the room because the painting style was apparently too ‘swishy’! And now Cogsworth has banned me from every serving him sangria at three in the morning ever again. Please be back soon mon ange, my heart cannot beat without you. Lumiere”

“mon chou today there was a fuss in the village, the prince has raised taxes again, I know, quelle horror!,  Mrs. Potts says a person can’t even afford jam anymore if you haven’t got a steady job! but i really doubt that, I mean how much does a jar of jam even cost, ten dollars? please hurry back mon amour, my breath fades so I can’t hear it, waiting for you to come into the light. Lumiere”

“mon coeur we are holding such a ball tonight! every eligible princess and countess will be there—as well as Chapeau’s little sister, we’re slipping her in with a borrowed old dress of the Queen’s—the lights will glitter and every taper will shine, but none as bright as you. Are you coming home yet? I cannot stand the waiting—I shall go quite still without you to dance with. I wait, eternally yours. Lumiere”

And then silence. Silence for a long, long time.

She writes letters, first funny— “what has happened? has Cogsworth run away with you at last?”—then alarmed, then jealous, then furious. “Why so silent, mon amour? have your hands fallen off entirely, do I count so little to your heart?” But she doesn’t get a response, even though she waits, she waits in the same place for weeks just so the letter will not miss her. but a month passes, and no note. Not even Chapeau responds, nor Cogsworth. she throws her hands in the air and stays on longer, just to show him; if he can’t bother to write, what’s a year? What’s two years?

She doesn’t make it quite two years; her heart throbs with missing him, despite her anger, despite her hurt. she gets on the boat, waves goodbye to little Plume nestled safe in Peregrine’s arms, and arrives back in France so, so long after she left.

The ride to Villeneuve is long. She breathes in the heady air, enjoying France’s roses; she forgot how much she missed this sort of spring! she cannot wait to be home, and hug them all close again. she can make peace with lumiere at last. perhaps some other accident prevented him sending her letters.

villeneuve looks disused, when she hops off the carriage; the taxes must have gone up again, she thinks, but doesn’t worry all too much. She doesn’t like riding, so she walks through the woods, ordering for her luggage to be left at the tavern to be called for later. She’s surprised how overgrown the ordinary road to the palace is. She’s surprised how the people in Villeneuve looked at her.

She’s extremely surprised when she starts walking through snow.

Her little satin slippers are drenched by the time she gets to the palace, and her hair is slipping out of her little summer straw hat, and she’s clutching her arms to keep from freezing in the gray, deep snow. Her teeth chatter as she climbs up the steps. Her little hand can barely push open the door.

She sinks in, with relief, and leaps up again when she realizes the marble is covered in a thin, deadly mirror of ice. The tapers are not lit. Not a sound comes out of the silent hall, but faraway up the stairs she thinks she hears a low, long grumble, like someone pushing a heavy chair across a stone-paved floor.

“Hello?” she calls. “Hello?”

Have they all left? Is it the plague again? she wonders. She tip-toes in, calling, and picks up a candle on the table to light her way. Into the drawing room, into the music room. A new harpsichord in the corner. The dining room sits empty, cobwebs on the chairs.

“Is anyone here left for me?”

“Mon amour,” whispers a voice, too too close, and the candelabra burns scathing in her hand.

she leaps back, clutching her hand, the candle on the floor righting itself and dusting itself off and murmuring soothing nothings, like she stepped on its foot at a ball or accidentally stole a sip from its wine glass instead of hers. It is talking, quite ordinarily, and calling in other furniture, and a hulking harpsicord is coming in and a squeaking tea tray and a hatstand with hammers for hands, and they gather round Plumette to gape and stare and cut off her escape, they don’t stop from crowding toward her until she screams “Lumiere, help!” and then it’s very, very silent in the dining room.

“Mon ange? You do not recognize me?” says the candle from the floor, and she comes close to fainting and then she is, the last thing she sees before falling into the swoon being Lumiere’s face, too little and too close, blazing gold, with hard yellow eyes creased in concern.

she wakes to cold, her hands draped in water, somebody kind laying a cool, wet handkerchief across her face. she relaxes, for a moment, then remembers the nightmare. the yellow eyes, where blue should be. the voice in the last place she expected it.

“look at me slow, now, dearie,” says Mrs. Potts, just beyond where she can see her. Another cold compress is laid on her hands. “I turned away from mirrors plenty of times before I got used to it. Slow, now, and breathe in—in through the mouth and out through the nose, that’s the way I used to tell Chip to do it.”

She looks, slowly, and then realizes turning slowly only adds to the horror of it, and she looks quick and bites back the scream before Mrs. Potts can quite pretend she hasn’t heard it. They both recover, fast, and look away. Mrs. Potts busies herself pouring hot water into a dish, and nudging the dish to Plumette’s fingertips until she can smell the lavender wafting gently up.

“Soothing,” Mrs. Potts murmurs, but Plumette notices she doesn’t look at her again.

It takes a long time to explain it. They all do it, in stages—Mrs. Potts, and then Cogsworth, so funny with his little clock face staring up at her, Cuisinier with a rattle and bang and Chapeau with tidy words, sparse but clean, painting a picture of the hag’s hand stretching toward them, the spell hovering on her fingertips. But Lumiere does not come to explain. He does not want to frighten her. He does not want to cause the pain.

Only when she can look at them evenly does she let him come in. He comes slowly, shyly, and her heart breaks—her Lumiere, shy! Her Lumiere, heavy and slow, his golden feet dragging him along, his candles barely flickering. He’s hot and ashamed and brave, looking her up in the face, love pouring out of him as he whispers, “you have not changed a day.”

they are frightened to show her the Beast, but they have to; he knows she’s there, his was the deep and wounded growl she heard from the first, echoing down the halls from his hiding place behind the stairs. She thinks she will be terrified, but then she sees him and oh!

the prince is terrified of her—of seeing his face reflected in the eyes of someone who knew him in his pride. terrified of seeing that someone shriek and run away in fear.

She reaches out and strokes the matted fur. “Do you know,” she says to him, “you have blonde hairs here, right in the pattern of the sun blaze I used to paint on you for special occasions.”

“I tried to do it myself that night,” he rumbles, the sound coming from deep in his chest through what sounds like miles of hair and thorn and tusks and teeth. “I didn’t do as good a job as you do, though.”

She brushes the fur with her hand and smiles at him, the curls descending down her cheeks, her battered straw hat still trickling snow.

She stays with them for days before they mention anything about her choice. She busies herself with tidying, in attempting to bring order to the darkness—“If only one of you could fly, we could get that dust out of the topmost chandelier,” she complains—and spends time with Lumiere, tentatively finding him out again, catching herself laughing at his bizarre jokes. She almost thinks he’s really there when he comes into a room behind her, and she looks up to the wall and sees that human-sized shadow drawing up....and then the disappointment when she turns, and he’s only there in soul, so tiny behind her she has to crouch to catch his face.

But the days cannot wear on forever, and soon she notes the looks the servants give her, and one night as she climbs up to bed she hears the stark sounds of an argument ringing up from the kitchen below. The next day, they corner her—much as they did her first day, but now she knows the names to match the faces, even the new ones she never knew before, like kind Madame de Garderobe and finicky Mr. Cadenza.

“Why so serious?” she teases Cogsworth. His hands tic-tic gloomily across his face, and his eyes search the room, and her eyes follow. Lumiere isn’t here. Cadenza paces near the door.

“It’s just...well, we don’t know how long it’s been on the outside,” says Mrs. Potts. “But here inside the palace, we’ve kept careful track of the days, and it’s been like to ten years. Not quite, you understand, but it’s been ten years almost to the dot. And we’re not figuring she’s ever going to come.”

“Who?”

“In the curse, when she laid the curse, the witch mentioned true love for the Prince,” says Cogsworth. “Reckoning, I suppose, that a parade of eligible young ladies would come lining up to the palace every morning looking to play croquet with the unfortunate Master. Well, there hasn’t been a one. Not even enough to invite in for a glass of water and a game of piquet. And if it goes on much longer like this I don’t fancy we shan’t become antiques.”

“What do you mean, antiques?”

“Never mind about that now, dear.” Mrs. Potts nudges Cogsworth aside and went on. “What he’s trying to get at, I think, is that we’re worried there won’t be anyone for the Prince. No young ladies have really stopped by once it snowed.”

“And if it goes on like this,” moans Cadenza, “I will never see my wife again. The spell will be complete. I’ll go kaput, coda, to resting beat; the symphony ends, no one applauds. The rose sits in silence. The diva, likewise.”

“This is—what will happen to all of you?”

“We’ll fade,” says Chapeau. “We don’t know what that’s like, exactly; it’s not quite death, but it isn’t living.”

“And why are you telling me this? So I can go get help?”

“There isn’t time,” says Mrs. Potts, gently. “There’s only a few petals left on the rose. We need...we need you to do something else.”

And then Plumette realizes why Lumiere isn’t allowed in the room.

She lies in her bed that night, cradled in the spot in the mattress where he used to sleep—his slippers still sit right next to the bed, covered in cobwebs, the gold brocade barely blinking out from the dust. She stuck her foot in one of them when she first arrived, but took it out in a hurry; the webs felt cold on her toes.

I have to fall in love with the Beast. She could hear them telling it to her, over and over, and she’d retold herself the same story so many times she could hear it in each of their voices, whether or not they had truly said so. “If you don’t fall in love with him, dear, Chip will remain a cup forever. My dear, that is my son.” “You’re the only eligible young lady we’ve had, Plumette, though I doubt the Prince will care much for your rank; but we can scrape up a baronetcy for you, it shouldn’t be too difficult, and then add some ranks and qualifications once you’ve married—” “Plumette, I know it’s hard. But help isn’t coming anytime soon. You’re the only hope we have.”

Fall in love with the Beast. Fall in love with the Prince. Fall in love not to love him, but to save every friend that had ever counted for her, every person who had ever treated her as family. Fall in love, and not with Lumiere.

Fall in love, to save Lumiere.

[writers-hes]

late christmas.

i love christmas and i love angst. please enjoy!  to those who read five years, thank you so much for liking and reblogging it! if you haven’t read it yet, check it out here. 

also, don’t forget to stream adore you! if you did, what are your thoughts about it? i absolutely love it and i’m currently writing a fic about it. i suppose you just have to wait and see! 

WARNING: unedited + swearing

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in which you and harry flew to new york to spend christmas together but it seemed like christmas wouldn’t be as magical as you thought it would be.

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you were excited for the holidays. you always were because in your family, it was a big deal. your father would put up the christmas tree, your mother would bake your favourite christmas-themed sugar cookies, and you and your older brother would help out in the over-all christmas preparation. you absolutely loved christmas as it was the only time of the year that you weren’t stressed. finals were done, you’re home with your family, and everything just felt like they were in the right place. christmas always meant family time.

that’s why your family was shocked when you told them that you would spend your christmas with harryi n his new york penthouse. they agreed, however. ever since you and harry met for the first time, you were inseparable. you spent thanksgiving together and even hosted a halloween dinner in his london home. 

there you were, in harry’s new york penthouse. all alone. you set up the tree alone, decorated the tree alone, and hung the christmas star, alone. you were starting to regret coming here all the way from the uk. you’d rather do all these with your family and friends back home but harry insisted. “think of it as the first of our many holidays together, love!” he said. together, he said but he was out with his friends. it’s been two weeks since you arrived in new york and it’s been two weeks since you and harry had a proper talk. on your first night here, you made love. the next day, he was gone. that was what happened and that’s what’s always happening—him coming home late or when he was sure you were sleeping and then leaving early in the morning. you barely saw each other even though this was supposed to be your ‘alone’ time—away from your families and friends. 

honest to god, it was starting to get to you. tonight was christmas eve and he was nowhere to be seen. you’ve been texting him but there was only sickening ‘read’ receipts that showed up on your phone. 

love: harry where are you

love: harry where have you been

love: harry come home, it’s christmas

love: harry please talk to me

love: did i do something wrong?? 

you also left a few voicemails in his phone. you hated it. you hated being lonely on a christmas eve but you had no choice. it was your first time in new york and you found it scary. 

“harry? please come home…it’s christmas eve and i wanted to spend it with you,” you said on the voicemail. “please. did i do something wrong? we can talk about it if you want, just come home. i—i prepared dinner,” beep.

you sighed, looking at the simple christmas dinner you prepared for you and your boyfriend. tears were welling up your eyes as you stored the dinner in some old tuppeware. you laughed lightly, seeing that anne was probably the one who convinced harry to get some tupperware. “it’s always nice to store the left overs in containers. that way, whenever you decided to eat it, it’s always fresh.” she said during your halloween dinner. 

you couldn’t help it. you missed harry and quite frankly, he treated you like shit. you wiped away the tears that escaped from your tear ducts. you had to leave and you wanted to leave. you opened up your phone to text harry again. 

love: i’m just going out. text me once you’re on the way home. 😊 

h: i’m not coming home. i’m spending christmas eve with my friend. 

your heart broke. you pressed his name and waited for him to answer.

“hello?” harry asked from the other phone. 

“what do you mean you’re spending christmas eve with your friend?” 

“can you stop being so clingy? it’s just rob. he asked me if i wanted to eat dinner with his family and i said yeah,” 

“you told me you’d spend christmas with me harry! it’s been two weeks and i barely even talked to you! isn’t the reason why i flew to new york is to spend christmas with you? and i barely see you. you don’t reply to my messages and never answered my calls. i spent two weeks trying my best to make this christmas just like home. i set up the tree alone and cooked you your favourite dinner and you’re telling me that you’re not coming? what’s the fucking point of me coming here if i’m alone? you know what? fuck you, harry. i’m staying somewhere else. i’m going home,” you raged. by the time you told him you were going home, a sob escaped your body. it alarmed harry how affected you were and he was guilty. you ended the call and made a beeline to harry’s bedroom. sobbing, you packed up your things and went to the building’s ground floor. there, you hailed a cab. you needed to get away from harry’s building. 

“please take me to the cheapest hotel in the area,” you told the taxi driver. you only had the allowance that your parents gave you for the trip and money that you saved over the year. you were a college student for god’s sake, where are you going to get the money that you do not have? you were silently sobbing in the backseat and you knew that the driver was getting uncomfortable. you phone kept on vibrating inside your coat pocket and you ignored it. you knew that harry was blowing up your phone. you soon arrived at a building and paid the taxi driver his fee, even adding a little tip for working during the holidays. you hauled your big luggage from the back of the cab. you thanked the driver and made your way to the hotel. 

“hi, do you have any vacant rooms?” you asked the reception. it was the night before christmas in new york—you were hoping to have at least some place to stay. 

“hello, ma’am. i’m sorry but we’re fully booked,” the tall receptionist said. he smiled sadly at you. 

“well—do you, uh, know any place that has any vacancy at all? i’m not picky, please,” you begged. this holiday quickly turned into a nightmare and all you wanted to do was go home. tears were welling up your eyes and you knew that the receptionist was looking at you with pity. 

“i’m sorry. i’m afraid all hotels in this area are fully booked,” he said. you nodded and mumbled a string of thanks and apologies for being annoying. the receptionist said it was okay. you exited the hotel and was on the streets of new york, freezing. you had your big luggage beside you and you were looking for places that you could possibly stay in. you looked around and saw a coffee shop that was full but you were sure that they had a table for you. you hauled your big luggage and huffed. you made a beeline towards the cafe and scanned the room. there was a table right beside the big window wall. you sat on the vacant table. a waiter asked you what you wanted for a drink and you told him you wanted wine. you weren’t sure if they served wine but anything that could make your forget about the douchebag of a boyfriend is enough. he nodded and gave you a menu, telling you that he’d be back in a few minutes with your drinks. you scanned the menu and saw that they had truffle gnocchi. it was a little expensive and you were out of budget but you didn’t care. you were devastated. a few minutes in and you ordered your plate. 

you were drinking your wine when you saw a girl, who was about to enter her twenties, discretely trying to take a picture of you. you ignored her and looked at your phone. you turned it on only to see harry’s name all over the screen. it’s been two hours and he still couldn’t contact you. 

“fuck!” harry shouted inside is new york penthouse. he was mad at himself for being such an asshole on what was supposed to be a romantic getaway. he left a handful of voicemails and texts but nothing seemed to be enough to make you come back to him. he looked around the place and only then did he realise that you set up a beautiful christmas tree. he also spotted a few gift boxes from you to him and to his family. his eyes lingered on the boxes for a second and then looked at how his staircase had christmas lights on. there was even a little santa claus at the top of the staircase. he went to the kitchen and saw that you even made the table a little fancy. he opened the fridge to see containers of untouched food that was supposed to be for the both of you. it warmed his heart how you managed to pull off his favourite meal. he also noticed a little pitcher of chilled sangria to match the meal. he also saw how you stocked up his fridge with junk food because you planned to just stay in during the christmas day, catching up on your favourite show, brooklyn 99. he even promised you that you would visit where the infamous 99th precinct. it wasn’t a real station but you found out from the internet that it was the 78th station near sixth station and barclay’s avenue. you were so excited to take a handful of pictures to post on your instagram—even bringing a ‘gina knows best’ hoodie that you bought. 

you’ve been staying at the cafe for awhile now and you knew that the waiter was starting to get agitated. he’s been passing by your table, giving you looks as there was a queue outside. you sighed sadly and paid for the bill. you left the cafe only to find out that it was colder than it was hours before. the cold air nipped you skin and you were shivering. you walked for a few more blocks until. everything in new york seemed full. you were contemplating on whether or not you should go back to harry’s and swallow your pride. you knew that it wasn’t that far from where you were. in the end, you decided that, it was worth it to swallow your pride and be safe instead of possibly freezing to death in the cold winter of new york. 

so, you hailed a cab and told the taxi driver where you needed to go. 

you arrived at the tall building where his penthouse was located an hours later, thanks to the traffic. you went straight to the elevator and hoped to god that he wasn’t there. you arrived at his apartment and opened the door. it seemed as if he already went home but the space looked so empty. you left your luggage beside the doorway and laid on the couch. you were so drained, you didn’t even bother to remove the coat that was exposed to the pollution of new york. 

you were half-awake when harry entered the door, dishelved. he’s been looking for you around manhattan, driving in his range rover. he was removing his outside shoes (a trait he got from you) when he saw your figure laying on the couch. he immediately ran towards you. 

“oh my god, i’m so glad you’re okay. i’m—bloody hell, i’m so fucking sorry for leaving you like that,” he rambled. he held your face in between his hands, noticing how cold your cheeks were. “i know you’re mad at me right now but is it okay if make a brew? just wanna make you feel warmer, love,” you nodded and he rushed to the kitchen where he stayed and boiled water. he took out his tea container and rummaged through the choices to look for your favourite tea, raspberry and vanilla. it took a few minutes for the electric kettle to boil the water. he poured the water and added milk and sugar, just the way you liked it. 

he carefully rushed to you and laid your tea on the coffee table. you drank from it and mumbled a soft ‘thank you’. 

“i’m so sorry, y/n. i’ve been such an asshole to you,” he started. 

“yeah…why did you leave me here though? if you didn’t want to spend time with me, why did you make me come down here?” you asked. it was one thing that harry loved about you. you were always frank and straightforward with your thoughts. 

“it’s just that…i don’t know. i’ve been so stressed lately. i didn’t want to take it out on you so i left. i’m so sorry, love,” 

“what were you so stressed about, harry? you know i’d always be here with you,” you asked. he was still kneeling in front of you, as if praying for god to forgive him. 

“i—“ he looked like a fish opening and closing his mouth. how could he possibly say that your father didn’t approve of him when harry asked him if he could marry you? how could he possibly say that your dad never liked him? how could he possibly say that to you—who always thought that the most important opinion belonged to your father? it’s been more than a year since you started dating and he was pretty sure that he wanted to marry you someday. 

“you couldn’t even tell me. it’s okay, you know? but leaving me here, all alone, in a foreign city—i felt so lonely. i just—did i do anything wrong?” 

“no, baby. it was…something else. it’s something else that i’ve been trying to ignore and fix but i couldn’t fix it. no, i’m not cheating on you or anything,” he reassured before continuing, knowing that you were paranoid about boyfriends who were not loyal because all your exes seemed to cheat on you and then blame you for their own doing. “i’m just stressed and pressured. i don’t know how to make it right. please, please. please, forgive me. please don’t leave. i love you. i promise i’ll stay with you just—don’t leave me, please.” he begged. 

“i’m not leaving, harry.” you told him. you knew that he was paranoid about girlfriends who seemed to leave him after a minor inconvenience and you know that it wasn’t his fault, even though the media portrayed him to be this man who never seemed to last in a relationship. harry seemed to calm down at your words but he still couldn’t stop the apologies that spilled from his mouth. “look, i don’t know what it is you’re struggling with right now, love. but whatever it is, i’m sure everything would be okay, yeah?” you told him. he nodded at that. the sadness that worked its way up to you seemed to go away. tonight, your only mission was to make harry feel better. and even if you didn’t know what was bothering him, you had to make sure that he felt good. “how about i reheat the meal that we have and tomorrow, we could stay in?” you asked him. 

“i’ll do it. i’ve been a shit boyfriend to you. please, let me do it, love.” he mumbled. you nodded. he brought his face closer to yours and you were kissing. it felt so good—it’s been two weeks, anyway. the loneliness that you felt and the stress that he was under was gone. it was you and him and him and you. 

perhaps, christmas wasn’t as bad as it seemed to be at all. christmas just started a little late.