#i’m on a nostalgia trip and i’m going crazy about it

[theslushiestnoob]

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American Boy (pt.1)

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Word count: 2.4K

A scene where y/n and Hamzah meet for the first time 💕

English girl reader x hamzah

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The bright city lights of Toronto flashed past me as the taxi barreled down the street, a sense of excitement and nostalgia enveloping me. Arriving in early September was shaping up to be a good decision considering the beauty of autumnal Canada, the reddening leaves curling into themselves, the air cool but the brutish snow not yet setting in.

‘Going downtown, right?’ the taxi driver turned to ask me.

‘Yes please,’ I replied, repeating the name of my friend’s street in affirmation. I had landed from London the day before, and had given myself ample time to settle into my holiday rental before visiting Mandy, a lifelong friend of mine.

Despite the distance between England and Canada, we maintained our close bond through daily video calls and messages. Today would be the first day that I had seen her in nine years, since we were thirteen.

Organising this trip had been half spontaneity and half necessity - I had just completed my English degree at University, and was somewhat dreading beginning my teacher training. It was Mandy who suggested that I take a belated gap year, and within that time visit her in Toronto. It took some convincing, but the weariness from graduating was yet to subside, so it seemed like a good decision to get away. I would be in Canada for two months, a somewhat awkward amount of time - too long to be a mere vacation but far too short to put down any roots - but nonetheless I was excited. The possibility of adventure radiated from the metropolis of Toronto, surprise waiting around the turn of each street corner.

The taxi pulled up to the apartment block, the warm lights emanating from the facade casting a cosy glow into the air. It was the early evening, I was coming over for dinner and to officially meet Mandy’s long-term boyfriend, Martin. Of course, I had heard every detail of their relationship over the phone and had even spoken to him briefly on such a call, so he was not a total stranger. He seemed lovely and made Mandy so happy that I already cared for him vigorously.

I walked up to the third floor of the apartment building and knocked gingerly on the door. Despite how well I knew the girl, I was wracked with nerves. The door swung inwards, and there stood Mandy. Her round face crinkled into a wide smile, her cropped hair framing her soft features.

‘Oh my God!’ She exclaimed, rushing forward to pull me into a tight embrace.

‘I can’t believe you’re here. This is crazy,’ I returned her hug and giggled into her hair.

‘And Christ, you’re tall,’ She leaned back, hands lingering on my shoulders as she appraised me.

‘I know,’ I laughed. She was significantly shorter than me, a fact far less apparent when communicating through a phone screen.

‘I still can’t quite believe that I’m here, to be honest. It’s been so long,’ She began to pull me into the apartment, shutting the door behind me.

‘Argh! I’m so excited. You need to meet Martin.’ The warm smile that enveloped her face at the mention of his name confirmed my affection for him. As if summoned, a tall and slender man appeared from around the corner.

‘Martin! We finally actually meet,’ I say as he throws an arm around both mine and Mandy’s shoulders in a side-hug.

‘Hi! This one here,’ he pauses to give Mandy a tender kiss on the top of her head, ‘hasn’t stopped talking about you for the past week. It’s nice to officially meet you.’ He drops his arm and retreats back into the apartment, beckoning for us to follow.

‘So, Martin’s friend is coming over later to film, I hope that’s alright, but I thought that we could order takeout and watch some trashy TV.’ Mandy says as she walks into the open-plan living area of the apartment, a sleek black kitchen overlooking a cosy living room backed by an exposed-brick wall.

The far wall was entirely occupied by a large window, affording a stunning view of downtown Toronto. Two cats lay sprawled on the yellow plush sofa, and a small Chihuahua sat attentively by Martin’s feet. It was a perfect house, so quintessentially Mandy.

‘Sounds perfect.’ I grinned.

*

‘Oh my God, these people annoy me,’ I say, gesturing toward the TV. ‘Like, why can they never just be nice to one another?’

Mandy giggled, also engrossed in the latest episode of Love Island.

‘I agree, but I don’t think that would be half as entertaining as this trainwreck.’

There was a knock on the door, startling me from my comfy position snuggled into a plush blanket.

‘I’ll get it!’ Yelled Martin from the next room over, followed by the sound of his light footsteps and the door clicking open.

‘Hey, man,’ Martin said.

‘What’s up?’ a voice replied. The voice was deep but honeyed, carrying through the hall to where Mandy and I could hear.

‘His friend’ Mandy mouthed to me. I nodded and looked back to the television screen.

Martin walked back into the room, his friend following behind him.

‘Hi Hamzah,’ Mandy greeted him, smiling as he reached to pat her shoulder affectionately.

‘Hey Mandy,’ he replied, before his eyes flitted to me beside her.

His eyes held an intriguing intensity, as if asking a question. They were a warm, deep brown, and framed by dark eyelashes. His skin was the colour of caramel, his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold air outside. Dark curls framed his angular face, falling just above his thick eyebrows in somewhat unruly ringlets. His lips were plump and pointed, accentuated by a defined cupid's bow. A pair of rectangular glasses sat on the arch of his wide nose, enlarging his already big eyes.

‘This is y/n,’ Mandy said, acknowledging him looking at me. Almost instinctively, Hamzah reached toward his face and whipped off his glasses, shoving them in the back pocket of his dark jeans.

‘Hi, y/n. I’m Hamzah,’ he smiled, holding his hand out for me to shake. I smiled and took his hand, amused by the formal nature of the introduction.

‘It’s lovely to meet you, Hamzah.’

‘England?’ his voice rose at the end of the word, turning it into a question.

‘Uhh…’ I began to stutter

‘Your accent. You’re from England, right?’ He interrupted, an expression of genuine curiosity on his face. He seemed slightly flustered by the blunt delivery of his question.

‘Yeah, um, I’m from London,’ I smiled warmly at his recognition of my accent.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out like that,’ He turned to Martin and smiled, partly for humour and partly for validation that he hadn’t been impolite.

‘You’re not Canadian?’ I ask, ‘You don’t say sorry like Mandy does,’ I point out, pronouncing the word the elongated Canadian way of saw-ree.

He laughed at my impression and Mandy shot me a death glare.

‘No, I’m American, actually. I was raised in Illinois,’ he nodded briskly, and I copied the motion.

He held his dark eyes on me as if appraising me, an indistinguishable look on his face. The prolonged eye contact made my stomach flip, yet I could not tear my gaze away.

‘Dude, we have to go film,’ Martin prompted him.

‘Yeah,’ Hamzah said, breaking the eye contact and turning toward Martin. They both walked out of the room.

I knew of Martin’s job as a YouTuber and had always been intrigued by it. It was every child’s dream growing up, and it was very impressive to me that he made a livelihood out of it. I never found the urge to look him up, though, only knowing the basic facts about his channel, that it was shared between him and a friend - who I now knew to be Hamzah. I also knew that Mandy was a sort of fan-favourite, and that she had started vlogging too. This fact was endearing to me, and I felt a surge of pride when she had told me. Of course she would be a favourite, I thought, who wouldn’t adore her?

Mandy and I returned to Love Island, commenting on the couplings and absurd challenges presented to the islanders, but all the while my mind was drifting to the other room.

*

The show had finished a while ago, so we had turned on some music to listen to while we caught up.

‘I mean it has literally been years,’ Mandy shook her head in disbelief as she said this.

‘It’s so weird, right? Seeing you all grown up in person is surreal. I mean, you’re basically married!’ I replied.

Mandy chuckled and hid her face with her wine glass.

‘What about you? Any men in your life?’ she asked, with a wiggle of her eyebrow.

I felt myself redden as I shook my head.

‘Nope. I was too focussed on school, to be honest. And I’m not really interested in the whole partying thing, so I hardly meet new people my age. But it's fine, I’m happy,’

Mandy looked at me sceptically, before sighing and rubbing my arm.

‘You never know what could happen on this trip,’ she said quietly, and I stiffened.

My mind instantly drifted to Hamzah. I imagined his beautifully rugged face, before dispelling the thought. I looked at the time on my watch and realised how late it had gotten.

‘Oh God, I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow, though?’

‘I’m working the morning, actually, but feel free to come round whenever, someone’s always here.’

As I rose out of my seat, the door to the adjoining room opened. Hamzah walked out of it, laughing with Martin who was following close behind.

‘Are you leaving now?’Mandy asks him as he passes by the sofa.

‘Damn girl, trying so hard to get rid of me,’ he deadpans.

Mandy responds with a withering death stare.

‘But yes,’ Hamzah concludes with a grin. He turns around and hugs Martin, smacking his back as he does so. When he turns again, he locks eyes with me once more. Standing, we are almost the same height, him being maybe an inch and a half taller than me.

‘She was just leaving now, too,’ Mandy says, ‘how did you get here again?’

‘I took a taxi, I’ll just grab another one. It’s only a twenty minute drive,’ I reply, pulling out my phone to call one.

‘Nah, I can drive you, if you want,’ Hamzah says, staring intently into my face, once again with an unreadable expression.

‘Are you sure? I don’t want you to go out of your way,’ I shake my head at the suggestion.

‘Really, it’s not a problem. C’mon, let's go,’ He says, starting for the door.

I turn to Mandy and see a sly grin on her face as she looks at Martin. She embraces me in goodbye, and I turn to follow Hamzah.

*

His car is parked just outside the apartment block, so it’s only a short walk in the whipping cold. Hamzah reaches for a handle and opens it, gesturing me inside.

Confused, I asked him, ‘Am I driving?’

He looked at me quizzically as I realised my mistake.

‘Oh, I forgot that you drive on the wrong side of the road!’ I say, and Hamzah’s face cracks into a grin.

‘You drive on the wrong side of the road, actually,’ he retorts.

I smile at him as I get into the car, glad for the relief from the cold night air.

He walks around the bonnet of the car and gets into the driver’s seat, ducking his head as he bends through the door.

He glances at me self-consciously as he reaches into his back pocket to retrieve his glasses. As nonchalantly as he can, he puts them on with one hand as the other reaches to start the car.

The car jolts into motion, thrumming mechanically beneath me.

‘Music?’ He asks, shooting me a sideways glance.

‘What are the options?’

‘Well, this car is old as fuck so I can only play CDs.’ He gestures for me to open the glovebox in front of me, and I pull out a holographic Disk.

‘Taylor Swift’s Red?’ I ask, narrowing my eyes in amusement.

‘Hey, don’t hate a man for having taste. Besides, it came with the car, so I’m being very frugal,’

‘Okay Mister Happy Free Confused and Lonely At The Same Time. No judgement here. Do you also have a keychain that says ‘fuck the patriarchy’?’

He grins at me and turns to focus on the road as I play the disk, the drums of State of Grace reverberating through the car.

Rain begins to slosh against the windows as the drive continues in silence, an air of awkwardness arising which I feel compelled to break.

‘So, what’s with the glasses?’ I ask.

He instinctively reaches up with his free hand to touch the frames, shooting me a sideways glance.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, you just seem self-conscious about them, but I don’t know why,’ I stare pointedly at him and watch him absent-mindedly fidget with the frames.

‘Uhh… I don’t know, I guess, I don’t wear them often in public,’ He replies, avoiding my gaze.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you out,’ I replied, feeling guilty at the prospect of embarrassing him. ‘I just meant that there's no need to be. They’re cute.’

Hamzah snaps his head to turn to me, his eyebrows scrunched quizzically. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but seemingly decides against it. He returns to staring intensely at the road and the rest of the journey continues in silence, aside from the melody of Taylor Swift’s Treacherous.

This slope is treacherous

This path is reckless.

*

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I hope that you guys enjoy this! Please let me know if you want me to post more, I have written so so much for this fic and am only posting the first scene lol so I have more in the bank 🙈

Have a great day 💕

[shutupptara]

‘tis the damn season - nathan mackinnon

summary: set during the 2020-shortened season- you’re home for christmas when you run into one nathan mackinnon on a grocery run. it’s been years since you’ve last talked, let alone seen each other, but it’s quickly like no time has passed. and the road not taken looks real good now..

i’ve been writing this since 2020. much like all of my writing i’ve posted, you have @kat-hearts to thank for this. she lovingly bullied me into finishing a piece i hadn’t touched in years. set at christmas, but not a christmas story. also set during the pandemic, so reality is very hand wavy (aka the nhl pushing the season happens, but lockdown isn’t reallllly a big deal) so if that bothers you, maybe skip this one.

is this any good? i honestly don’t know, but i know i loved writing nate so pls enjoy

word count: 13,151

warnings: alcohol use, strong language, explicit sexual content MINORS DNI, a general disdain for life and choices made, a tiny bit of angst, hating on Florida (it’s okay i live there) a LOT of self indulgence

title from ‘tis the damn season by Taylor Swift

It wasn’t that she didn’t like returning home for holidays, it was just a huge ordeal every time it happened. Not only was it a 3,000 mile trip, there was always ice and snow to contend with. Coupled with her well-meaning, albeit overbearing, neighbors, the holidays get to be a bit much for her to handle. Still, there’s something wonderful about the tranquility of home. Refreshing, really. With a year as stressful as 2020 had been, it was a blessing to be able to return home for the holidays.

Her first true day of Christmas break, her mother begs her to go to the store for her: there’s so much baking to prepare for, and while she is happy to do the shopping for her, she knows it’s so she won’t see her wrapping presents. Even at 26, her mom insists upon marking her gifts ‘from Santa’, and the nostalgia of it always makes her smile. So, against her better judgment, she ventures out to the closest Sobeys. She has her jacket and scarf pulled tightly around her, unwilling to admit to herself she really can’t take the cold anymore, but mostly wanting to hide to be in and out as quickly as possible.

She grabs a cart on her way in the store, unlocking her phone and holding it open in front of her, eyes sweeping across the list her mother had sent her with. It isn’t terribly long, thankfully. She makes quick work of grabbing what she needs, moving down the aisles long ago committed to memory with ease. Various other things get tossed into the cart as she moves: chocolate covered pretzels, a case of Diet Coke, her favorite cheese crackers.

When she reaches the wine aisle, she shrugs to herself, deciding it’ll be best to have some on hand, in case of an emergency. She grabs a bottle of Roscato for her mom, and two bottles of cab for herself. Once they’re safely in the cart, she makes her way to the checkout line. There’s quite a few people crowded there, and she tries to maneuver around to a shorter line, her brow furrowing when she spots a rather large looking man a few feet in front of her.

As she gets closer, realization washes over her. “Nathan MacKinnon,” she stops in her tracks, heart swooping in her chest. “As I live and breathe.” It comes out before she really even processes what’s happening.

He turns, almost as if in slow motion, his eyes widening when they land on her. “My god, it’s been ages. What are you doing here?”

She smiles slightly, suddenly hyper aware of how messy her hair is, and the fact that she hadn’t tried very hard when getting dressed this morning. “Could ask you the same thing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you home for Christmas.” She knows for a fact she hasn’t. It was the one reprieve of being back in Cole Harbour - Nate was never here.

“Yeah, I’m usually not,” he shrugs. “I uh, you know with the year as crazy as it’s been, and the season being pushed, I’ve actually been home most of the year. Hanging out with Andy, Sid, Jack, Pete...” There’s a longing look on his face, mirroring the ache she knows is lingering in his chest. There’s an identical one inside of her, and she knows she’s to blame for the pain Nate’s dealing with. This wasn’t a particularly easy run in for either of them, but it’s almost refreshing in a way? She doesn’t care about the buddies he’s spending his time with, she would’ve asked if she did, but it’s obviously important to Nate she know, and she doesn’t want to read too much into that. Maybe he wants her to know he’s not spending time with another girl, and she hates that part of her is hopeful because of that but it’s not fair to be. She can’t expect him to stay single forever, simply because being here and seeing him has every feeling she’s ever felt for him rushing back.

“Sounds like you’ve been busy,” she laughs. “I’m really glad I ran into you.” There’s a surprising amount of truth to that. God, it’s been almost eight years since she’s seen Nate, even in passing, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t followed his career. She’s from Canada for Christ’s sake, of course she follows hockey.

“I am too,” Nate grins. “Hey, you should come by later. There’s a few people coming over, no one you hate,” he raised his eyebrows and she can’t help but laugh. “No expectations, just drinking and fun. It would be nice to catch up.”

Without hesitation, she’s blurting out, “I would love that.”

“Great!” Nate exclaims. She can practically see him center himself in that moment, try to keep it together.

“I’m staying at my parents’ house,” she offers. Though I would much rather be with you, her mind continues, and she shakes her head to try to clear it. “Are you still two doors down?”

Nate reaches a hand up, rubbing the back of his hand awkwardly. “Nah, I bought a house when I signed with the Avs. It’s a bigger one, out on Albany Terrace. I think you’ll like it.”

She smiles brightly. “I’m excited to see it.”

“Yeah?” Nate mutters.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“I’ll text you the address,” he offers. “Guess that means you have to give me your number.”

___

She makes a substantial effort to not show up right at 8 pm. It’s difficult, as she’s been a compulsively early person her whole life, but this time it feels necessary to be “fashionably late”. It helps that she fusses with what to wear for over thirty minutes- this shouldn’t be a big deal, and she doesn’t want it to be, but that doesn’t change the anxiety that’s swelling in her chest. She tells herself this isn’t anything to stress, it’s just catching up with an old friend and if things are awkward, she can always leave. Still, as she pulls up to Nate’s house, she realizes there’s a part of her that’s a tiny bit excited.

She takes in a slow breath as she kills the engine, nodding to herself as she climbs out of the car and heads up the walkway. She’s clutching a bottle of Jack Daniels in her left hand, never showing up empty handed instilled in her at a young age. She rings the doorbell, glancing around curiously as she waits. Her heart is pounding, and she’s ready to turn and bolt back to her car when the door swings open.

Nate’s standing in front of her, a soft smile on his face. She lets her eyes sweep over him, admiring the beige cable knit sweater straining over his shoulders. He looks so relaxed, so incredibly casual. “Hey! So glad you made it. Come in.” He steps aside, closing the door behind her. “That a bottle of Jack?” She can’t do anything but nod, holding it out to him wordlessly. “You haven’t changed a bit,” he laughs. “Everyone’s in the living room. There’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

Nate leads the way through the house, stopping briefly in the living room on his way to the kitchen. “Hey guys!”

She peers around him, relieved to see there really wasn’t anyone she hated in attendance. Pete, who she's known her whole life and his girlfriend Hannah are first to greet her, ushering her to sit beside them.

“Hey squirt, it’s been ages,” Pete teases.

“You forget I’m older than you,” She laughs. “But yeah, it’s been a long time.”

“Where are you living now?” Hannah asks.

“Florida. Been there for almost five years.” She falls quiet then, eyes glancing at where Nate is still standing.

He fidgets, and clears his throat. “I’m gonna grab a drink.” With that, he disappears around the corner, and she’s left to slump into the couch.

For a while, she mostly listens to Pete talk about his job, or the crappy apartment Hannah’s parents are begging them to move out of. It’s only a matter of time until they end up engaged, she knows, and she’s happy they’ve found happiness. It does little to help her feel like less of a leper, though. As soon as she’s able to find a break in their one-sided conversation, she jumps on it, taking the opportunity to disappear into the kitchen. Nate’s on one of the other couches, talking to Andy about getting a Call of Duty game going, and that’ll be enough to keep him occupied for hours. No chance he’ll notice her absence until she can figure out what the hell she was thinking showing up here tonight.

She heads straight for the freezer when she enters the kitchen, pulling out the bottle of Jack, and grabbing a solo cup laid out on the counter. She drops a handful of ice into the cup, followed shortly after by a hefty pour of the dark liquid. She brings the cup to her lips after taking a long drink.

“Jack on the rocks, eh?” A voice behind her asks.

“‘Tis the damn season,” she mutters, turning to spot Sidney Crosby leaning against the doorframe. She raises her cup to him, taking another long drink.

He lets out a honking laugh, eyes sparkling. “It’s nice to see you again.”

She quirks an eyebrow, “didn’t really think you’d remember me, to be honest.” She had only encountered Sidney a handful of times, and she never thought she’d left much of an impression. Truth be told, she was always a little star struck around him- it was hard not to be.

He furrows his brow, frowning. “Come on, I met you a bunch of times when you lived in Pennsylvania. And Nate talked about you nonstop when you were-“ he trails off, shrugging.

“Pen pals?” She offers. She can tell Sidney doesn’t see it as bitter. There’s a sadness in her voice she probably won’t ever be able to shake when she’s talking about Nate.

He shakes his head, but doesn’t push her, thank god. Instead, he steps into the kitchen, pours himself a cup of Jack on rocks, and clinks his cup against hers. “Here’s to escaping hometowns,” he toasts.

She grins. She takes another long drink, frowning at her cup when she realizes it’s nearing empty. “I think I may get drunk tonight, Sidney.”

He offers her the bottle, “I’m with you. Let’s do it.”

Surprisingly enough, Sidney Crosby is the one to save her from the awkwardness of the evening. True to his word, he does stay in the kitchen and drink with her. They talk about everything from Sid’s most recent cup wins to why on earth she decided Florida was a good place for her to settle down. They tread very carefully on any conversation that can take a turn to Nate, and she’s thankful Sidney read the room. He’s quite fun to be around once you chip away the exterior and he lets his guard down. They relocate to the table in the corner, and keep the bottle of Jack between the two of them, both casually refilling their cups as the night wears on.

When the bottle is almost empty and she can feel her head swimming, she jumps at the sound of another person entering the kitchen. “Ah, this is where you’ve been hiding.” Nate takes the seat beside her at the table, his leg bumping against hers as he maneuvers his chair. “Should’ve known you’d ditch me for Crosby.”

Opposite them, Sidney snorts. “Nah, just needed a drinking buddy, is all.”

“Sid is surprisingly good at drinking Jack,” she offers.

“Yeah?” Nate grins. “Seems like you’re pretty good too. Have you eaten anything?”

She taps her finger against her lips, considering, before shaking her head dramatically. “Nope.”

“Maybe we should fix that...”

Again, she shakes her head. “No room for food. Just alcohol.”

Nate smiles at her, and even in the haze of the alcohol, she feels her heart warm. It’s that same fond smile she’d loved so much when they were together, and she knows she can’t let her mind run away from her, but at the moment, she can’t rationalize why that’s the case. “In that case, let me break out the good stuff.” He stands up, heading to the cabinet above his stove. There, he grabs a fancier looking bottle, a dark brown liquid sloshing around as he carries it over to the table. “Crown Royal XR, so you never forget where you came from.” He takes the liberty of pouring her and Sid a glass before fixing one for himself, and reclaiming his seat.

She sniffs the liquid in the cup, eyes widening. “Ooof.”

“Don’t quit on me now,” Sid goads. He nudges her with his elbow, giggling.

She shakes her head adamantly. “Momma didn’t raise a quitter,” she announces. She raises her glass, waiting as Nate and Sid follow suit. “Here’s to Cole Harbour’s golden boys.” She sees Nate roll his eyes, but he’s smiling when he brings his glass to his lips.

She takes a long drink, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips. “Oh, that is really smooth.”

“Everything’s better when it’s Canadian,” Sid pipes up.

She giggles at this, which makes Nate quirk an eyebrow. “There’s no arguing that point, Florida.”

“Come on, Florida isn’t that bad,” she insists.

Nate looks to Sid, then back to her, shrugging. “The fact that you have to say it that way doesn’t help your case.”

“It doesn’t snow there!”

“Boo,” Sid says.

“How do you even survive without hockey down there?” Nate adds.

“Shut up, there’s hockey! My friend Nick would argue Tampa is a huge hockey town. Wait- oh my god!” She cuts herself off, looking around excitedly. She pats the pockets of her pants, pulling a face when she can’t find her phone.

“What are you doing?” There’s a distinct amusement in Nate’s voice.

“Where’s my phone? I wanna FaceTime Nick. He always gives me shit about knowing y’all. He pretends he doesn’t believe me because he’s never met you, so somehow that means I haven’t? I don’t even know...”

“Nick your boyfriend?” Nate grumbles, voice low.

She just snorts out a laugh, and takes her phone when Sidney slides it over to her. She clicks around on it for a second, then the distinct sound of a FaceTime call fills the room. She drums her fingers against the table impatiently, eyes lighting up when the line clicks on.

“Hey!” An excited voice fills the room.

“Hey Nick! What’re you up to?” She keeps the phone close to her, keeping Nate and Sid out of the frame.

“Well, it’s almost one in the morning on winter break so obviously I’m drunk with Garrett.”

“Tell him I said hi,” she insists.

“Sure. What’re you doing?”

Her eyes light up again, and she grabs her glass excitedly. “I’m also drunk, but I wanted to show you who I happen to be drunk with.” She downs the rest of the liquid in her glass and slides her phone back farther on the table, angling the camera to capture all three of them in the frame. “I give you Nate MacKinnon and Sidney Crosby.”

“Holy shit. That’s- fucking hell, that’s actually Sidney Crosby!”

She chuckles, turning the phone to face Sid and he waves awkwardly. “I told you, you don’t grow up in Cole Harbour without knowing the pride and joy of the city.”

“But you said you’d only met him a few times! And Nate MacKinnon too, what the fuck...”

“In the flesh. Oh, and Nate wanted to know if you were my boyfriend before I called.” She peers over at him, watching his cheeks flush pink. He opens his mouth to protest, but Nick quickly cuts him off.

He laughs, shaking his head. “Just one of my best friends, dude. You have my blessing. I know she would love to date a hockey player.”

“Yeah? Good to know.” Nate smirks.

“On that note, we’re going back to drinking now. Just wanted to humble brag real quick.” She flashes a toothy grin. “I’ll make them get dinner next time they’re in Tampa. Maybe you and the whole crew can come along.”

“Yes, totally! Have fun! Merry Christmas!” She wishes him a Merry Christmas back, and she’s ending the call, she hears Nick muttering to Garrett: ‘yes that was Sidney fucking Crosby’. She drops her phone down onto the table then, glancing over at Nate expectantly.

“So that’s Nick, my not boyfriend. He’s a big Lightning fan, and he hates the Penguins.”

“Charming,” Sid laughs. “Seems nice though.”

“Nick’s the best,” she agrees. “He and Danielle get me through living in Florida.”

“Ah, so you do admit Florida sucks?” Nate presses. He offers her another drink, and she nods eagerly. When her glass is full, he raises his to her. “Fuck Florida.” She taps hers against his, smiling widely.

“Fuck Florida, indeed.”

___

Another hour slips by as the three of them sit in the kitchen. The rest of Nate’s house is quiet, save for the inevitable hockey talk they’ve slipped into. Nate’s sobered during their time sitting there, his attention focused mostly on her and her half hearted responses. Poor girl is exhausted.

“Time for me to head out,” Sidney mutters. He pushes his chair back from the table, clapping a hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Uber’s outside. Thanks for having me, Nate. Nice catching up with you.”

“Bye Sid!” she brightens up, waving her fingers as he giggles and heads out the door. “Then there were two.”

“Sure I can’t interest you in some food?” Nate offers.

She shakes her head adamantly, eyes glossy, head swimming. “No, I told you... no room for food.” She rests her arms on the table, dropping her head down on top of them and peering up at Nate curiously.

He chuckles, resting a hand on her elbow. “Okay, time to get you home.”

She pulls a face, nose scrunching up in disgust. “Naaaate,” she draws out, “no.”

“Come on,” he laughs. “I’ll even tuck you in.”

She narrows her eyes at him, still frowning, “you promise?”

“Cross my heart.” He offers her his hand as he stands, helping her to her feet as soon as she agrees. He hooks her arm through his when she sways, trying to keep her steady on her feet. “I’ve got you.”

It takes some maneuvering, and a lot of patience on Nate’s part, but eventually, he’s able to get her into the front seat of his truck. He buckles her seatbelt for her when he slides behind the wheel, starting the car as she starts complaining about how uncomfortable his seats are.

“Good thing your parents live less than three minutes from here, huh?” He teases. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, seeing her head slumped back against the headrest.

She’s quiet for a long time, and he has to tear his eyes from the road to make sure she hasn’t fallen asleep. When he does, he catches her gaze. “Nathan?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles.

“You don-“

She shakes her head, eyes squeezed shut. “No, Nathan, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I walked out I just- fuck, I didn’t want to be a WAG. I didn’t want hockey above all else, always. It wasn’t fair for me to do that.”

He’s quiet, hand gripping the wheel a little tighter. “Well, it wasn’t fair of me to make you feel like that would be your reality.” He hesitates, taking a slow, deep breath. After a moment, he nods to himself. “We can call it even.”

He offers her a shy smile, and she can’t stop herself from returning it. She unhooks her seatbelt and slides closer to him on the bench, resting her head against his shoulder. “Deal. Thank you, Mack.”

___

When they arrive at her parents’ house, Nate kills the engine and lets out a sigh. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.” She groans, but sits up straight.

“Fine,” she grumbles. She pushes the door open hastily, climbing out and crosses her arms over her chest. Nate simply shakes his head, taking her arm again and leading her up the pathway carefully. He knows it’s icy, and the last thing they need is the both of them to eat shit.

As soon as they reach the front door, Nate shushes her, trying to remain as quiet as possible while he pulls out the spare key from beneath the mat. He’s done this countless times before, and truly, it never gets any easier.

“Mack, remember when you tried to sneak me in drunk right before you left for juniors?” She laughs. She just giggles even louder when he presses a finger to his lips, eyes pleading. “You always take care of me.”

“I know, shhhh. I always will. We’ve gotta get inside.” Moments later, Nate gets the door open, tugging her across the threshold. He pulls the door shut as quietly as possible before glancing up, spotting her parents in the living room, sitting on couches reading. “Hi guys,” he sighs.

“Nate,” her mom smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too. Sorry about this.. She was drinking with Sid and I didn’t want her driving-“

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” she whines. “I’m perfectly fine, Nathan.”

Her dad gives him a knowing look, chuckling. “Thanks, son.”

“Lucky to have you around, Nate,” her mom adds. “You know the way.”

He nods, tugging on her arm to lead her up the stairs to her childhood bedroom. She grumbles the entire way, complaining about being “too tired to see” or “everything’s spinning, I’m going to die”. Nate can’t contain his laughter, which only seems to frustrate her more. She glares at him when she finally gets the door to her room open, kicking her shoes off by the door and flopping down onto her bed in a huff. “Who let me drink me so much,” she groans.

“That would be Sid,” Nate leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He’s an enabler.” She lifts her head up, peering at him thoughtfully. “I was afraid to talk to you tonight,” she admits. “And he supported my stupidity to try to make me feel better. At least his heart is in the right place.”

Nate’s brown furrows. “Why would you be afraid to talk to me?”

She pushes herself up into a seated position, crossing her legs underneath her. “A tiny screen’s the only place I see you now.” Her voice is low, eyes cast downward. “I don’t know what we have in common anymore, or if you’d even want to talk to me.”

“Hey,” Nate says, pushing himself off the doorframe and stepping into the room. Two strides bring him over to the bed, and he sits beside her, craning his neck down to catch her eye. “I asked you to come over because I did want to talk to you. Do.” He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know why but I never expected to run into you, and when I did, all I could think about was reconnecting and... I don’t know, being friendly again? There’s a pretty big you shaped hole in my life.”

She looks at him, eyes sweeping over every last detail of his face. She wants to blame the alcohol for how attractive she finds him in that moment, but she knows she can’t. Nate has always been gorgeous, and their time growing, apart, has only increased that. “I’ve got a big Nate Mack hole too,” she admits.

Without wavering, he reaches out and rests his hand on hers, rubbing his thumb across the smooth skin there. “Tomorrow, then. I’m coming by with breakfast and we’re gonna play pond puck.”

She can’t help the groan that falls from her lips. “I’m going to be far too hungover to be on skates tomorrow.”

“Should’ve thought of that before you drank half a bottle of Jack,” he grins. “Night.”

___

True to his word, Nate does come by first thing in the morning. She crawls out of bed at the sound of laughter down the stairs, wincing when the light hits her eyes. She manages to pull herself together to look somewhat presentable, though her headache is enough to have her debating hiding under the covers for the day.

“Oh, look who’s up!” Her dad teases. He’s sitting opposite Nate at the kitchen table, reading the paper like this is the most normal thing in the world.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” Nate laughs. “I brought Timmies.”

“Black?” She mutters, reaching for the cup gratefully. He nods. “Not iced, but I guess I’ll live. Thanks.”

Nate rolls his eyes, bringing his own cup to his lips and taking a long drink. “We gotta get you out of America. Not iced, pft,” he scoffs.

“Nate’s got a point, kid. You’re barely a Canadian anymore.”

She gives him a pointed look. “I didn’t hear you and mom complaining in Florida in January last year.”

Her dad grins. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

“Yeah, sure,” she smiles.

“You hungry at all?” Nate asks.

“Just coffee for me,” she raises her cup to him.

“Alright. Should we get going then?”

“A heroic return to my pond puck career,” she jokes. “Should be great with this hangover.”

Her dad laughs loudly, shaking his head. “Don’t let her fall through the ice, Nate.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He flashes a winning smile as he gestures for her to head out the door in front of him. “Your dad was thrilled to help me find your old skates in the garage this morning,” he tells her as they climb into his truck.

She rests her head against the cold window, eyes shut. “Of course he was.”

“It was nice to see them again,” he says quietly. “I always really liked your parents.”

“Good thing, they love you.” And it’s completely true. To this day, her mother still asks her about Nate. What’s he up to, if he’s seeing anyone... it would be sweet if it wasn’t so painful for her to have to relive every time she brings it up. Her dad is thankfully more subtle- they really only talk about Nate when hockey comes up. Of course they both keep tabs on the Avs, and it’s a common ground that is far more exhaustive than her job that her dad doesn’t really understand anyway. All in all, yes, her parents do love Nate, which made their break up that much harder.

Nate doesn’t respond; her words linger in the air like a bad perfume. There’s a kind of expectation to them, a dare to explore what that means and how it makes either of them feel. Thankfully, Nate pulls his truck off the road before they have to broach the subject. Just ahead of them, there’s a frozen pond, a couple of trash cans tipped over on either side to use as makeshift goals. It’s the same pond they’d played on as kids, hours spent skating and laughing together. It brings back a melancholic feeling, one that seems to sit in her chest when she follows Nate’s lead and climbs out of the car. He hands her her skates and a stick when they start walking, eyes focused on the snow beneath their feet.

She laces up her skates silently, glancing over at Nate every so often. He looks like he wants to say something, but just isn’t sure where to begin. She tries no to dwell on it, and instead let herself have a good time today. It’s been a long time since she’s had the chance to skate.

She uses the stick Nate handed her to help stand and steps out onto the ice, skates wobbling as she tries to get her bearings.

“Looking a little rusty there, Gretz,” Nate teases.

“Oh shut up,” she groans. It takes her a minute, but before long, she finds her comfort on skates again. It’s second nature, something she knows she will never forget how to do. “It’s just been a while.”

“Nowhere to skate in the sunshine state, eh?” He skates around her in a circle, turning around and skating backwards so he can face her. “What could possibly make you want to stay there?”

She gives a half shrug. “My life is there.”

Nate nods. “Right. Your job, your not boyfriend...” The smile on his face suggests he’s kidding, but she can see something behind his eyes.

“Nate...” there’s a warning in her voice.

He holds a hand up in defense. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just... what do you?”

“I’m a counselor,” she tells him. She chuckles when he purses his lips, clearly having no idea what that entails. “It’s supposed to be a mental health professional in the schools - someone to help students short term, refer out for bigger issues, teach social emotional skills. I’m just a glorified secretary at this point.”

He narrows his eyes, considering her. “I don’t believe that. You’re too good.”

She lets out a long sigh. “No, it’s true. Nothing I do actually helps anyone, and the one girl I did have a good relationship with, I was too busy to help this year. So she’ll never come back to talk to me now. I’m always a month behind and I don’t know-“ she lets her voice trail off, feeling her eyes sting as they fill with tears. It never hits her like this until she says it out loud, but it’s so alarming to lose your passion. She’s content, but she’s not happy, and it’s hard to feel like she didn’t make a huge mistake with her choices in life.

Nate stops suddenly, causing her to slam right into him. He reaches out and grabs her shoulders, keeping her upright. “Hey,” he coos, “I’m sure she’ll come back to talk to you. This year is unlike anything anyone has ever seen. I’m sure a lot of this is stress.”

This seems to open the flood gates, and against her better judgment, she feels hot tears start streaming down her cheeks. It only makes her cheeks more cold, and she curses under her breath. “I think I messed up, Nate. Florida, counseling, what if it was all a mistake?” She shakes her head, dropping it down to stare at their feet.

Nate reaches out, tilting her chin up with one finger. “Then you make a change. Find out how to be happy again, and go after it.” His hand slides up to cup her cheek, warm fingers wiping away her tears. “You’re incredible. If you made a mistake, that’s fine. Regroup, move past it.”

Her breath hitches, eyes locking with his. She can feel a smile tugging at her lips, her heart warming at his words. It’s an incredible feeling to be validated like this, to know her concerns aren’t ridiculous and she’s not an utter failure for rethinking every decision that’s brought her to this point. It’s tenfold now, standing so close to Nate, her heart beating wildly in her chest. “Nate, I-“

“I believe in second chances,” he tells her. His voice is barely above a whisper now, the rasp sending a tingle up her spine. She can hear the unspoken words behind it, I believe in you, and I believe in us. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but with the way he’s looking at her right now, it’s hard to take it any other way. Maybe she could let herself do this - love again, put her faith in him.

There’s nothing she wants more than to be able to give in, melt into his arms and tell him it was all wrong, but they can fix it now. With his bright blue eyes shining the way they are, she even lets part of herself believe that.

It’s the other, realistic part of her that holds her back. The what ifs and rational thinking of distance and time zones and years past rearing their ugly head. The fear of getting hurt again, or hurting him. There’s just too much to consider, too many sacrifices to ask of any one person.

“I want to believe in them too,” she admits. “But-”

Her eyes tell him everything she’s too afraid to. He inhales sharply, nodding once. “I understand. I won’t push you.” His fingertips brush across her cheeks gently before he drops his hand to his side. A sad sigh falls past his lips, and before he can move to skate away, she’s grabbing his forearm and gripping it tightly.

“We’ll play for it,” she blurts, mostly in an attempt to keep him from walking away.

Nate’s eyes snap up. “What are you talking about?”

“We’ll play each other. Pond puck. And I’ll be yours for the weekend.”

“If who wins?”

“Either of us.” Her hesitance is clear as day on her face, the anxiety swirling in her stomach. Maybe she’s being ridiculous, childlike even, but this is the only way she can give her heart what it wants without giving up her entire life. Albeit how appealing that road looks at the moment.

Gaze narrowing, he purses his lips in consideration. “You’re saying no strings?”

She nods, “I’m saying I won’t ask you to wait for me, if you don’t ask me to stay.”

“So a one night stand?”

Her head shakes slowly, teeth worrying at her lower lip. “No. I want the weekend with you in our own little bubble. I want to ignore reality and just… be.”

“I think we need terms for this,” Nate says. “What’s off limits, what isn’t.”

“Of course,” she agrees. “What you’re comfortable with.”

“If you win, big if, I’m yours for the weekend. You can call the shots; anything you want to do. Fair?” When she agrees, he cracks a small smile. “Great. When I win, you’re mine for the weekend. I’ll call the shots.”

“Sounds reasonable-”

“One more thing,” he cuts in. “You can’t break my heart.”

His words hang heavy between them, shifting the atmosphere. This feels like a contingency meant for more than just the weekend. It makes her chest ache to think about it, but Nate’s speaking again before she can get a word in edgewise. “Alright,” he pulls a puck out of his back pocket, holding it out between them. “First to three, yeah?”

He’s courteous enough to wait for her to get her bearings, both hands on her stick, knees bent, before he drops the puck between them. He taps it a few times with his stick, moving in slow circles. He pauses when they’re face to face again, leaning forward. “I’ll let you have first go.”

“Don’t go easy on me, Dogg,” she teases. “I’m tough. I can take it.” She mirrors his stance, leaning over the puck with her hands spread wide on the stick.

“Game on, babe.” She sweeps her stick over his, cursing under breath when he swipes the puck away from her. He carries it on his stick across the ice, avoiding her attempted checks and steals as he goes. Eventually, she abandons that tactic, instead racing ahead of him and turning to defend the “goal”. She keeps her stick down, watching his eyes to try to read his play. He fakes left, moves right, stopping on a dime as he throws ice across her shins. She blinks and the puck is slamming around in the can, Nate throwing his arms in celebration.

“One down,” he gloats.

She rolls her eyes, flicking the puck out at him. It skids to a stop in front of his skates, and she heads back to center ice, knowing he won’t be far behind. By some miracle, she’s able to gain possession of the puck in the faceoff, doing her best to get a jump on him and head down the ice. In an instant, he’s right behind her, stick held out in front of her, attempting to poke check it away. When she shifts, Nate checks into her from the side, nearly sending her tumbling on the ice. “Okay Mr. Lady Byng,” she laughs.

Nate simply grins at her, taking off after the puck and keeping it a distance away from her ahead of him. Effortlessly, he sends the puck sailing into the trash can, turning around to face her with an even cockier grin. “Not looking too good for you.”

“You’re a cheater,” she mumbles, retrieving the puck and gliding over to center ice. She keeps it in her hand as Nate eyes her, his gaze dragging slowly from her skates to the top of her head. “What?”

He shakes his head, jutting his chin out. “I don’t cheat.” He hunches over his stick, waiting for her to crouch into the same position and drop the puck. The intensity that emanates from him is palpable, his bated breath, clenched teeth only adding to the stakes. When the puck falls from her hand, it’s like time slows down. There’s a frigid breeze across her cheeks, blowing her hair back over her shoulders - the puck clattering against the ice once, twice, before it’s flat and they’re both springing into action. Their sticks collide as they sweep them, neither making contact with the puck at first.

It’s Nate who comes up victorious from the faceoff, stickhandling it until he’s able to turn his back to her. She knows he’s far too advanced for her to out play - his skills are unmatched, so she opts for playing a little dirty, using her own skills to her advantage. When Nate fakes and moves left, she positions herself there, right in front of him. All the air whooshes out of her as they collide, his shoulder pressed against her chest. The startled expression on his face makes her crack a grin, and he’s distracted enough by the move to let her gain possession. Once it’s on her stick, she takes off down the ice in the other direction, keeping the puck out in front of her. She can feel Nate hot on her tail, attempting to swat the puck free, knock her off balance. Her eyes stay fixed to the trash can, and she doesn’t hesitate - just slaps the puck as hard as she can. The bang that rings out echoes through the quiet, and she glances over her shoulder, flashing Nate a triumphant smile.

“Two-one now,” she points out. It’s a ridiculous thing to try to boast about, but it very clearly pushes Nate’s buttons. She’s never known a single person to be more competitive, and it’s admittedly fun to draw that side out of him every now and again.

She can tell she’s struck the nerve when Nate gets huffy, his nostrils flaring as he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “Just get ready for the faceoff.” He reaches down to scoop the puck out of the can, quickly following her back to center ice and watching her get situated. Seconds pass in silence until they’re both ready, and Nate drops the puck.

It’s a hard-fought battle from the moment the puck hits the ice. Nate jumps into action, immediately getting his blade down, trying to gain control. But she doesn’t concede to him as easily this time. She bends her knees a little further, using her body to shove against his side, trying to throw him off. When he chances a look at her, she swats at the puck, nearly situating it on her own stick. Nate chuckles, shifts his weight to his other foot, and steals the puck back. The movement throws her a little off balance, and she reaches out for him on instinct, hand gripping the fabric covering his shoulder tightly. She tugs at it to keep herself upright, ignoring his half hearted scoff when it knocks him away from the puck slightly. Within seconds he rights himself, tearing down the ice toward the goal. He’s impossibly fast, and she knows there’s no catching up to him, so the resounding “clang” of the puck hitting the metal comes as no surprise.

When she lifts her gaze, she immediately spots a grinning Nate skating over to her. The corners of his eyes crinkle in delight. “That’s game,” he breathes as he skids to a stop, throwing snow across her shins. Breath hitching as she draws her eyes up to his face, she notices Nate is so close. Closer than he’s been to her in years, and heart is pounding in her chest. With a clatter, he drops his stick to the ice, tossing his gloves down beside it. Now bare-handed, he reaches up, brushing her hair back off her shoulder. The cold air bites against the skin of her cheek for just a moment before his hand is there, big and warm and so soft. “I call the shots, right?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but her eyes are zeroed in on his lips. His tongue flicks out to wet them after a brief nod of her head, and something in her brain short circuits. Drawing in a shaky breath, she holds it as Nate leans in, lips brushing against hers gently, tentative. On their own accord, her hands are flying up to grip his shoulders, her legs suddenly weak.

The kiss is over almost as soon as it’s started, and it leaves her breathless, eyes blinking open slowly. All she can focus on is the small smile that appears on Nate’s lips, and the deep blue of his eyes.

“Do you have plans later?” Nate mutters.

“No.”

There’s that blinding grin again. “Good.” He leans in, pressing a soft little kiss to the side of her mouth, barely inches from her parted lips. “I’m picking you up at seven.”

___

“Where are we going Nate?” She asks, eyes narrowed. They’re sitting side by side in his truck, driving mostly in silence to their unknown destination. His earlier text was cryptic, merely telling her to dress warmly with a smiley emoji. It’s out of character for him, but mostly she’s surprised he seems to want to be spending time outside. In December. In Canada. Sure it’s been warmer than in past years, but when the sun drops, they’re lucky to be breaking twenty degrees Fahrenheit.

“It’s a surprise,” he says. A small smirk dances across his lips, eyes seeming to sparkle with mischief. He knows how much she hates not knowing, but she understands he’s trying to do something fun too. So she sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, shifting her focus to the road in front of them. “You’ll like it,” he promises. There’s the tiniest hint of uncertainty there, a hesitation that tells her he’s just as nervous and confused about everything as she is. Do they know what the other likes anymore? How much has changed?

“I’m sure I will,” she insists.

They drive in comfortable silence, the low hum of Nate’s truck the only sound filling the air. When she chances a glance at him, she’s met with his calm expression, the familiar curve of his nose, his pursed lips. His concentration is clear as day, and she can’t quite place why it’s so endearing.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have much time to dwell on it. He drives about twenty feet more before he’s pulling off the main road. Immediately, they’re both bouncing on their seats, the uneven terrain jerking them back and forth. Just as she opens her mouth to ask him what’s happening, Nate puts the car in park and kills the engine. Wordlessly, he opens his door, stepping around the truck quickly to pull hers open for her. He holds a hand out to her to help her step down, and keeps a firm hold on it when she’s safely on the ground.

“Nate?” She says finally, head cocked in confusion. They’re parked in the middle of an open field, nothing but trees and the setting sun around them. It’ll be dark soon, and she’s not exactly sure what she should be expecting. “What-“

“Trust me,” he cuts in. He smiles at her when she nods, then leads her toward the back of his truck. He lowers the tailgate with his free hand, then reaches for a handle on the cover. His grip finally drops as he clicks the handle into place and walks the cover back toward the cab. Inside it, pillows and blankets cover the bed of the truck, a Yeti cooler stashed into the corner. When she catches his eye again, he’s sheepish, a bashful smile on his face. “I thought it’d be nice to just sit under the stars for a while.”

“Nathan…” it comes out in a sigh, and she’s thankful for the darkening sky that’s hiding her growing smile. She knows it’ll instantly give away how smitten she is, and that’s a conversation she’s not quite ready to have yet.

“Is it okay?” The hesitation in his voice has her jumping to reassure him.

“Yes, yes it’s perfect,” she rushes.

He dips his chin in a nod. “Let’s get you up then.” He doesn’t wait for her to respond, or really even process his comment before he steps over to her, lifting her easily around the waist and hoisting her up. As soon as her feet are planted in his truck, he gives her a little nudge forward, and climbs in after her. “Sit, make yourself comfortable,” he insists. He busies himself pulling out a flashlight, flicking it on and sitting it in the middle of the truck bed. Next, he’s grabbing food out of his cooler, placing them gingerly beside the flashlight. She merely watches in awe as item after item is taken out: plates, forks, glasses, crackers, cheese, wine, fruits. He’d thought of everything.

“It’s not a meal,” he reasons, “but I figured it’s better than nothing.” He produces a corkscrew from his pocket, then sets in on getting the wine bottle open.

“Nate, it’s wonderful,” she insists. She takes the stemless wine glass as he hands it to her, smiling softly. “Though I’m a little surprised to see you willingly eating carbs and drinking alcohol.” She cracks a grin when he rolls his eyes, making a show of bringing his glass up and taking a large gulp.

“Et tu?” Nate groans, dragging his free hand through his hair.

“I’m just messing with you.”

“You’ve read all the articles, then? Keeping tabs on me?” He lifts his eyebrows suggestively.

“Something like that.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Nathan.” Her expression is hard, a no nonsense frown on her face. “You do not disappoint anyone.”

He sighs, and passes her a plate of various snacks, keeping his eyes on his hands. “I don’t know how true that is.”

“I do. You’re being hard on yourself.”

He considers for a moment, shrugging. “Maybe. But I need to be. It keeps me disciplined.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes before popping a cut piece of fruit into her mouth. “I don’t think you need help in that department.”

“I started seeing a sports psychologist,” he mumbles. It catches her off guard, his admission, but it fills her with pride all the same. The Nate she knew before never would’ve taken that step, and he certainly wouldn’t have told anyone about it. That’s growth.

“How’s that been?”

“I like it. Kinda helps me take a step back from things and visualize what I want and how to get there.” He hesitates, opening his mouth before closing it quickly.

“Sounds like there’s a but there?”

“But I don’t know that it's enough.”

“In what way? Like you need more help with your mental health?”

He scrunches his nose. “No, I guess with hockey and stuff. It just-“ he cuts himself off with a sigh. “It feels like I’ve put in the work, and have gotten no results.”

“Because you haven’t won shit?” She offers. She cracks a grin when Nate looks up at her, expression blank. This only serves to make her giggle, and as much as she wants to blame it on the wine, she knows it’s the way Nate shakes his head and cracks a grin right alongside her.

“I haven’t won shit,” he agrees.

“You will.”

“You sound so sure.”

“Because I am.”

“Why?”

She brings her glass up, polishing off the rest of her drink and then sets the glass down. Hesitantly, she scoots forward a bit more, until her knees bump against his. His eyes draw up to hers slowly, the icy blue stealing the breath from her lungs. “Because I know you, Nathan. And you were born to do this.”

“It’s really not feeling like it these days.” There’s so much defeat in his voice it makes her chest tighten. On a whim, she reaches over and takes his hand, rubbing her thumb over his wrist slowly. “Feels more like I can’t do anything right.”

She wants desperately to reassure him, tell him his mind is wrong and playing tricks on him but she knows that isn’t what he needs. He has to navigate this himself. She can offer him support, but this is something he has to figure out on his own.

“I went first overall, I should be doing more for the team. It’s just been first or second round exits year after year. I can’t get us out of this hole.”

“It isn’t only up to you,” she reminds him. “If you feel you’re not playing up to your standards that’s one thing, but you can’t play every position. It’s not fair to entirely blame yourself.”

“Maybe not,” he shrugs. “Maybe I made a mistake with all of this.”

She frowns, eyes narrowing. “With hockey?”

He nods. “Hockey, life. I don’t know. What if I chose wrong?”

“Well, you’re preaching to the choir on that bud,” she says. She hesitates a moment, gathering herself. “For what it’s worth, I know you didn’t choose wrong. Things have been a bit bleak, sure, but you are far too talented to not share that gift with the world.”

Nate’s gaze catches hers, and she feels a shiver travel up her spine. When concern floods his features, she knows he’s felt it too. “You cold? C’mere.” He gives her no time to respond, just leans himself back against the pillows and reaches for a blanket. Once it’s situated over him, he pulls her in close against his side until her cheek is against his chest and his arm is around her back. The blanket gets tugged up to cover her too, and they lay together, cocooned in the blankets under the stars.

“Better?” Nate rasps, and truly, yes. This has made things better. Being so close to him, warm and safe - this is the first time she’s been able to take a deep breath in a long time. But she can’t admit that to him. So she gives a soft murmur in agreement and shuts her eyes to commit this moment to memory.

“I’m proud of you Nate,” she says eventually. “I know that doesn’t really help with all this, but I’m not the only one, ya know? We’re all rooting for you.” She tilts her head up, staring straight into his eyes. It makes her lose her breath, especially when he gives her a small smile.

“I appreciate how much you believe in me,” he whispers. “It does help.” He draws his fingers up slowly, tickling them against the exposed skin where her sweatshirt has ridden up. It forms goosebumps immediately, and she cuddles in even closer, out of instinct. “Being here has been like coming up for air.” He sighs, eyes softening even further. “And seeing you-“

“Nate-“

“Don’t,” he rushes. “We have an agreement, right? You’re mine for the weekend?” The hopeful expression on his face guts her, but she nods. She is. For the weekend.

“Yes,” she agrees. She tilts her chin up far enough for her nose to bump against his jaw, nuzzling it. “I don’t wanna think about after.”

“Then don’t.” He cranes his neck further, until their breath mixes. “Just be here with me.” Gently, so gently, he kisses her. It’s just a tentative brush at first, but it sets her body on fire. Within seconds, she’s hauling herself even closer to him, dropping her body over his as she deepens the kiss. She feels Nate’s big hands come up to grip her hips, keeping her close.

It’s not desperate and frenzied, but it still has her heart racing. The sweep of his tongue across the seam of her lips has her sighing, melting into him. It’s comfortable, warm and familiar, like coming home. She knows she can’t dwell on that thought, so she pours everything she can into Nate instead. Kisses him breathless, then comes back for more.

When Nate breaks away, he lets his head fall back to the pillows, a tiny grin on his face. “I’ve missed this, babe. Missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Nate.” She admits, to herself just as much as she does him. It feels monumental to do so, but she lets herself have this moment; snuggles closer into Nate’s arms and kisses his neck. They have the weekend, and she’s not going to ruin that.

~

Reality starts to feel a bit distorted after laying with Nate in his truck. In a way, it feels like they’re existing inside a bubble - one that gives them a taste of the road not taken. It’s addicting, with the potential to be heart wrenchingly painful if she’s not careful. But part of her knew she’d end up here. Her and Nate had been so strong before fear crept into her mind. The problem now is figuring out how, if at all, this influences her real life that she’ll be getting back to sooner rather than later.

And Nate, bless his heart, seemed to be doing everything in his power to make this as hard as possible for her. He’d taken the “I call the shots” agreement to heart, planning the entire next day for them to spend together. He arrives at her house thankfully much later in the morning than the day prior, with iced Timmy’s in tow. He leaves a dozen doughnuts and two extra coffees on the counter for her parents, flashing that heart melting smile when she insists he didn’t have to go to the trouble.

“It’s no trouble,” he insists as they’re climbing into his truck. He immediately reaches to crank the heat for her, tugging his seatbelt across his body.

“Well thank you,” she says. “What’s on the docket today?”

He eases the truck out onto the road, his tongue poking out between his lips in concentration. Only when they’re settled into the lane does Nate glance over at her. “Thought we’d drive down to Peggy’s Cove. Walk around a little bit. See the lighthouse?”

Her face lights up at the mere mention. Peggy’s Cove is about an hour from Cole Harbour, and it’s always been one of her favorite day trips. There’s something so wonderfully calming about the shoreline, at any time of year. “Sounds good to me,” she says.

She’s pleased to find how at ease she feels beside Nate on the drive down. They happily flick through radio stations, singing along completely off key. Her cheeks start to hurt from the wide smile she can’t seem to wipe off her face, all thanks to Nate. And god, what a thought that is. She’d certainly never entertained the idea of meeting up with Nate at home, nor did she think she’d find herself riding around in his truck. It feels like an alternate reality and surprisingly, the thought doesn’t put a damper on her mood. It just makes her enjoy it all the more.

Before long, Nate is pulling into a deserted parking lot along the shore. He kills the engine then looks over at her, smiling softly. “Shall we?” When she nods, Nate climbs out of the truck and races around to grab her door for her.

It’s a stunningly beautiful day, but it's freezing, even bundled up against the cold. Despite her tightly wound scarf the wind nips her cheeks harshly as soon as she closes his door. In front of them, waves are crashing against the covered rocks, a soothing symphony filling the air. There's chunks of ice floating in the water, and she shakes her head at just how picture-esque it all is. A rare blue sky day in late December, the sun breaking through the small clouds, its rays reflecting off the snow on the rocks.

Nate turns to her, offering his hand and she takes it without hesitation. His gloved fingers wrap firmly around hers, and they start to slowly walk toward, squinting to see.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been down here,” she admits. “I don’t know how I forgot how beautiful it is.”

“I’ve always loved it here,” Nate says. She glances at him, sees his pink cheeks, his hair blowing in every direction. It makes something in her chest tighten, and she squeezes his hand a little tighter. They make their way closer to the lighthouse silently, simply taking it all in.

As they approach the darker rocks, Nate stops suddenly, tugging her into him. His arms go around her shoulders, keeping her close. “This okay?” He whispers.

“Yes,” she breathes. More than okay, she wants to say. It’s touching really, that he’d drive all this way just to stand there with her and stare at a lighthouse. It’s reminiscent of the early days in their relationship, before the drama and the uncertainty, when all they needed was to be together. “Thanks for bringing me Nate.”

He hums, his cheek pressing against the side of her head. “Thanks for wanting to be here.”

She can feel that his words have a much deeper meaning behind them, though she chooses to take them at face value. It's clear they’re going to continue to dance around the obvious, even if it’s rehashing something they’d already settled on. It’s just for the weekend; there’s no realistic way it could be more and they can’t put that kind of pressure on each other. But even though all of this is true, it doesn’t change the way being with him makes her feel. It doesn’t take the warmth out of his smile, or the fondness from his eyes. So maybe she is breaking her own heart here, but what other choice does she have?

***

She and Nate spend much of their day wandering through the small fishing village. They stroll down the boardwalk, through small boutiques and touristy souvenir shops. Nate happily walks through every single open door, stopping to sign an autograph or take a photo every now and then when they happen upon another person. He has no qualms about waiting for her to browse in the bookshop, instead spending his time posted up on a comfortable chair, petting the store cat with a smile on his face.

After a late lunch at the only restaurant in town, they get back on the road, headed for Cole Harbour. Conversation in the car is light and casual, both just catching the other up on life’s nuances they haven’t been privy to in years. It’s more than just work: it’s the song that made Nate cry because it reminded him of leaving for the US when he was just a child, it’s the countless seafood meals she’s turned down in her adult life because nothing can compare to the luxuries of home. The conversation never lulls, though it does veer significantly off course when they spot the ‘welcome to Cole Harbour’ sign approaching in the distance.

“Nate, pull over!” She insists. She’s digging through her bag, ignoring his request for an explanation. After a few seconds, she emerges victorious, holding up a black marker and a piece of paper. She smoothes it out as best she can on his dashboard, then unhooks her seatbelt. “Do you have any tape?”

“What do you need tape for?” Nate asks. He earns himself a pointed look, one that says ‘don’t ask questions’. He sighs, then flips open the center console. “I think I have some stick tape lying around…”

While he tracks that down, she gets to work writing, keeping her arm strategically placed so he can’t glance over her shoulder to sneak a peek. Just a few seconds later, he’s setting the tape down next to her hand and looking at her expectantly. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see,” she grins. She picks up her sign and the tape, opens the door to his truck and hops down onto the road. It's not very busy, thankfully, but Nate is immediately concerned all the same.

He calls out her name, quickly following after her as she walks. “You can’t just get out of the car on a main road and walk away,” he insists, but she’s not listening to him. She’s still making her way forward, toward the welcome sign and the townline. Once she’s standing in front of it, he watches as she pulls up the tape, ripping it with her teeth. The piece of paper is held against the welcome sign, then secured with tape, and she steps back with a satisfied smile on her face. The writing doesn’t become clear until Nate is standing beside her, and once it does, he bursts into laughter.

Attached to the bottom of the sign, where it reads ‘Home of Sidney Crosby’, she’d taped up her own: “and Nathan MacKinnnon”.

“I’ll have to get a proper one commissioned, but I thought this would do for now,” she grins. As she locks eyes with Nate, she feels her heart start racing. He seems happy, but she doesn’t want to assume he’s not just saving face and she’s made him uncomfortable.

Wordlessly, he closes the space between them, gathering her into his arms. “You’re just- you’re so wonderful.” He doesn’t give her the time to respond, just leans in and kisses her, hard and long. It sets her world on end, she gasps for air when he pulls away.

“Nate-“

“You wanna come to my place?” He asks against her lips, eyes hooded. A brief nod is all that’s needed to get him moving, guiding her back to his truck and opening the door for her.

___

Her hands are trembling when they pull up to Nate’s house. Nate grins at her, taking her hand over the shifter once he parks. He brings it to his lips and kisses it softly. There’s an unspoken understanding in the air, tension hanging between them. “Hey,” he whispers, trying to catch her eye. “You alright?”

Her voice is so soft when she speaks that Nate almost misses it. “I’m nervous,” she admits. “It’s been such a long time and I really want this to be good for you-“

Nate cuts in, brow furrowed. “Look at me.” He waits until she draws her eyes up to continue. “It’s okay to be nervous. I’m a little nervous, but please, don’t feel like you have to do this.”

“I don’t. I mean, I do want to,” she interjects. “I just- what if it’s not… good?”

He actually snorts when he hears this. He’s under no impression they’ve lost that spark over the years. It’s always been good, and he knows it will continue to be. But the hesitance on her face is suggesting she’s not thinking the same way he is. “It’s going to be incredible,” he insists. “Just like it always was.”

“We were kids, Nate. I’m worried it won’t be.” She takes in a deep breath, shaking her head. “I’m worried I won’t be any good.”

He drops her hand, turning in his seat until he’s able to cup both of her cheeks. Then he draws her head up until she’s looking at him again. “You are the most beautiful woman I know, and you’ve been driving me crazy since the day I saw you in the grocery store. I know you’re going to blow my mind.” She hesitates for a moment, but then she’s nodding as best she can with the way he’s holding her. “If you’re not ready, we can wait.”

“No,” she says adamantly. “I’m done waiting.”

This is all the confirmation that Nate needs. He keeps his hands firmly planted on her cheeks and leans in, kissing her hungrily. He slides his tongue into her mouth, groaning when he feels her fingers crawl up to grip his hair tightly. She leans even closer to him, pressing her chest against his, letting him feel every inch of her torso. His eyes are half lidded when he breaks away, tongue flicking out to wet his lips.

Her eyes blink open, and Nate’s smiling softly at her. His eyes are soft, filled with longing, and her stomach is doing flips. It’s tenfold when he climbs out of the driver’s seat, coming around to take her hand and help her step down. He laces their fingers, leading her up the short pathway and in the front door. They shed their shoes and their cold weather gear there, tossing it unceremoniously toward the built in to the right. They’ll deal with the mess later.

“Do you need anything?” His voice is low, raspy, and she’s shaking her head immediately. She’s of a one track mind now, and it seems that Nate picks up on that. He takes the initiative to walk her up the stairs, straight to his bedroom.

“Can I touch you?” He whispers. He rests his hands on her waist, lingering at the hem of her soft t-shirt. When he sees her nod, it’s up and over her head in a hurry, exposing her smooth skin. Nate’s eyes greedily take in every inch of her chest, and she’s surprised she doesn’t feel the urge to cover herself.

She feels a surge of confidence shoot through her; the way Nate is looking at her fueling her ego. It makes her bold, and she pushes back on his shoulders until he’s stepping backwards, and eventually, falling onto the bed. Then, she climbs into his lap, her hair falling around them like a curtain when she leans down over him. “Are you just going to look?” She asks, and the challenge in her voice ignites something inside Nate.

Before she can blink, she finds herself on her back with Nate crawling over her. He reaches up and tugs off his shirt, smirking at her sharp intake of breath. He doesn’t take much time to gloat, choosing instead to draw her in for another kiss. His hands make quick work of her bra, tossing it across the room carelessly. His lips trail down her chest, mouthing at the supple flesh, and swirling his tongue around her nipples. He revels in the breathy sounds falling from her lips when he bares his teeth.

“Nathan, please touch me,” she whines. She wriggles underneath him, trying to draw him up, get his mouth back on hers.

“Patience, my girl,” he mumbles. He kisses the tip of her nose before he sits back, eyes taking in her form. Her hair is splayed out across the bed, cheeks flushed, and pupils blown wide. He slides his fingertips over the red marks he’d left on her breasts, dragging the rough pads down until they’re toying with the waistband of her pants. He glances up at her again, eyebrows lifted to check in, make sure this is still what she wants. He earns himself a frustrated groan and a “come on, Nate”, which he takes as the green light. He slides everything down in one move, leaving her completely bare to him. “God, look at you,” he breathes. He pushes her legs open wider to accommodate the bulk of his shoulders before he drops down onto his stomach. His eyes never leave hers as he leans in close, kissing up her thighs until he’s inches away from her throbbing center.

She tosses her head back, squeezing her eyes shut to try to regain control of herself. Her body is thrumming with anticipation, desperate for Nate to do anything. After a few seconds, she’s rewarded for her patience. Nate licks a long strip up from her entrance to her clit, chuckling against her when she gasps. Immediately, her hands fly to his hair, fingers gripping tightly. Nate flicks his tongue expertly against her before drawing her clit between his lips and sucking. She feels him ghosting his fingers over her lips, the soft tickle making her toes curl. She lets out a moan, and that’s all it takes to get Nate to dive in. He slips two fingers into her dripping entrance, scissoring against the tight suck of her walls.

“Nathan,” she pants, back arching. He’s nibbling on her clit as he seeks that spot inside of her, pumping his fingers in and out quickly. She cries out when he finds it, and Nate presses down hard, keeping his fingers firmly against it while she thrashes against the bed.

She’s sure her grip on his hair has to be painful at this point, but she’s too far gone to care. All she can focus on is the blinding pleasure Nate is giving her. She can feel that coil tightening inside of her, her body wound so tightly she’ll snap back at any given second. When he sucks on her again, she snaps, trapping his face between her legs as she comes, thighs tightening around his head.

Nate keeps his fingers working inside of her as she starts to come down, her breath slowing, though not entirely coming back to her. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he climbs up to his knees, grinning wickedly. “Such a good girl for me,” he coos.

She’s having a hard time replying to him. She can’t get a sentence out, moans tumbling past her lips whenever she opens her mouth. Nate is prolonging her orgasm, keeping her suspended up on cloud nine as he watches her, eyes hungry. “I’ve imagined this so many times,” he admits. “Over the years, when I’m on the road late at night. I love to picture you wrapped around me instead of my hand, squeezing me so tight. You feel so good around my fingers; I can’t even imagine how you’ll feel around my cock. Will you let me have you? Sink deep inside of you and fuck you open, my girl?”

She cries out again, nodding quickly. She grips his forearm tightly, eyes rolling back. “Please Nate,” she chokes out. “God, please, I need you.”

“You’ve got me,” he swears. He leans down and kisses her again, stealing the air from her lungs. He tugs his sweatpants down as best he can with one hand, sighing against her lips when his cock springs free.

Slowly, she draws her eyes up from his cock, enjoying the sight of his clenched stomach muscles, and the strain of his bent forearm. Everything about Nate is absolutely gorgeous. He’s just so big; so wide and cut, and god, he’s going to be the death of her. She grips his shoulders tightly, mouth going dry at the muscles her fingers trace over. She’s trying to commit every moment to memory, the soft pants falling from Nate lips, the way his eyes are nearly black with desire. It’s so different than it had been before, but somehow the same. They’ve both matured so much- confidence emanating off of them now, but that giddiness is still there. That schoolyard crush that makes your heart beat faster and your hands shake. Her head is swimming, with desire, and the disbelief that this is truly happening. That they’d found a way to have this happen again.

She whines when he draws his fingers out of her, the loss leaving her feeling empty, and she clenches around the air. “I’ve got you,” Nate promises her. He reaches over her head to the bedside table and comes back with a condom, tearing it open with his teeth before sliding it down his throbbing cock. Her fingers are still gripping his shoulders tightly, and there’s no way her nails aren’t biting into his skin but Nate doesn’t say a word. He just runs a soothing hand down her torso and grips her hips, holding her still as he lines himself up with her entrance. His eyes are locked with hers as he presses forward, the blunt head of his cock drawing a gasp when he slips inside. He’s so wide; her walls are already straining to accommodate him, the burn of the stretch making her heart pound. Nate takes his time pressing into her, letting her accommodate for his size. As he pushes in, he’s whispering soft reassurances to her, telling her how beautiful she is, and how good she feels.

He grips her waist tightly when he’s fully sheathed, his big hands wrapping around her. “Okay?” He whispers. She can see the strain of holding back on his face, the need to make sure she’s alright before he can let himself go and enjoy this.

“Perfect,” she assures. “Please, Nate.”

He sucks in a deep breath and nods. Slowly, he draws his hips back before snapping himself forward, burying himself even deeper. She’s impossibly tight and wet around him, drawing him in and clinging to him. It doesn’t take long for him to build up a steady rhythm and when he does, he feels like a man possessed. He’s holding her down against the bed, watching as her breasts bounce and her mouth falls open in pleasure. He feels her drag her nails down his back and he groans, driving into her even harder. The force of his hips is pushing her up the bed, leaving her breathless and begging for him.

“I’m so close,” she pants. “Please Nate, touch me.” Her eyes are shining when she looks up at him. He obliges, sliding his right hand down to press his fingers to her clit. Within seconds, she’s coming around him, clamping down on him as she cries out his name. Nate fucks her straight through it, his hips slapping against her ass as he chases his own release.

He kisses her desperately when he feels his body tightening. When her tongue sweeps against his, he’s gone. He drives in and holds himself there as he comes, a grunt falling from his lips. When he’s able to come back into himself, he reaches down, holding onto the condom as he slowly pulls out. He kisses her cheek in apology when she winces, tying the condom off and tossing it into the trash just after. He runs a hand down his face, trying to steady his breathing before he stands. He grabs the first hand towel he can find in the on suite bathroom, running it under the tap and bringing it back into her bedroom wordlessly.

She’s still spread out on the bed where he’d left her, her arm thrown up over her eyes as her chest heaves. He drags the towel between her legs, cleaning her up carefully, before the towel too gets tossed to the floor. “You doing okay?” He whispers. He drops down onto the bed beside her, manhandling her body until she’s lying on her side, facing him.

“Wonderful,” she says, and that’s the understatement of the century. “Was, was I okay?”

Nate’s eyes go wide, and he’s nodding immediately. “That was unbelievable. God, the way you feel-” He cuts himself off, dropping his head onto a pillow dramatically. “It’s amazing how good we still are together.” She peers up at him, sees his eyes closed and the small, happy smile on his face. It makes her heart twist in her chest, her throat tightening. Realization hits her like a bucket of ice water thrown over her head. None of this is real. He’s not her Nate anymore, and damn it, how is she going to walk away from this?

“I can hear the gears whizzing around in there,” he teases. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”

She hesitates, debates deflecting- telling him it’s nothing and avoiding the discussion she knows they should have. They’re adults now, this is the kind of thing they need to discuss, but she’s scared. “Nate,” she sighs, feels tears brimming in her eyes. “I don’t know. I just-“

“You told me you wouldn’t break my heart.” His voice is low. It isn’t accusatory, it’s just sad, like a punch straight to the stomach. She opens her mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. Hot tears leak out of the corners of her eyes, pooling on the pillow case.

“It’s feeling pretty broken right now.”

This has her swallowing hard, gathering her courage. “I don’t want to.” It’s barely a whisper. “But I don’t think there’s another choice.”

“Of course there is,” he assures her. “There’s always another choice.”

“Not when it leads right back where we broke in the first place.”

“Don’t think about that. Tell me what you want.”

“It doesn’t matter-“

“It does matter,” Nate insists. “What the hell are we doing in this life if we’re not trying to find happiness?” His eyes search her face, drinking in every feature. “What would make you happy?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “You. But-“

He shakes his head slowly. “Nope. No buts. I would make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Thank god,” he breathes. “Because I’m not letting you go again.”

“It’s not that easy,” she says. “There’s too many variables, and it will lead us right back where we started.”

“It’ll be different this time.”

She sighs. “How can you know that?”

Nate reaches a tentative hand out, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “Because we know better. We can make better choices together. I know you don’t want to be a WAG, and I’m not going to put that on you. If you want to stay in Florida, okay. If you want to move to Denver, okay. If you want to move back to Canada, that’s okay too. We’ll make whatever you decide work. I just want you.”

“You… you want that?”

“If it involves you, I want it.” He’s so adamant, speaking with such conviction she can’t entertain any other thought. She scoots closer to him on the bed, molding herself against his chest and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I really want this to work, Nate,” she says. “I really, really want that.”

He drops a kiss to her forehead. “Sweetheart, I told you, I’m not letting you go again. I mean it.”

[jarofstyles]

i would love a blurb about “You again” Harry and Yn going back to the cafe they went to together after reuniting at the dating location!!! Maybe a few years have passed and they wanted to go back because it shows how far they've come as a couple. They're all soft and Harry's just as enamoured with her that he was the very first day he saw her—but this time they have a little boy at home who has her soft nose and some of his features just like he hoped🥹

Wait this is so cute Omg. Yes.

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-

“Excuse me, pretty lady. Can I buy you a coffee?” Y/N felt hands covering her eyes which had made her bristle, but the husky voice behind her coaxed a silly grin from her mouth. Of course. He had to be cheesy.

“I don’t know. I have a very handsome, strong, scary husband at home. He may not take kindly to strange men buying me coffee.” She retorted, suddenly getting her vision back as his hands spun her around to face him. He was handsome in his blazer and button up, his faux scowl making him look even more delicious.

“Damn right I would. But thank you for the compliments. I’m glad to know my wife is very committed to me.” He melted into his own small grin, leaning down to kiss the top of her nose. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Hi, beautiful. Can’t believe we’re back here.”

Taking a look around, Y/N couldn’t believe it either. It had been 6 years to the day they met in this very coffee shop. So much had happened but somehow the place had managed to stay mostly the same. “Mhm. The place where it all started. It’s a bit crazy, isn’t it?” She placed his hand in her own as Harry led her to the very booth they had first locked eyes on each other. Luckily it was vacant, so Harry had stolen it for them.

“It is. I wish we could have brought the baby.” He sighed. Their son was 3 now, having time with Harry’s mum while they had their annual date. This just happened to be the anniversary of the day they met. The ring on her finger symbolized their other anniversary. It hadn’t been long after they rekindled that they got engaged. Some may say it was rushed, but Harry referred to it as “when you know, you know.” Y/N teased him about wanting to lock her down quickly, but never had much to say after he reminded her of how quickly she said yes.

“One day we can take him here with us. Just not date night, hm? It’s the designated time for us to simply be a couple.” She kicked his foot under the table, initiating a casual game of footsie. Something Harry never understood why she liked so much but indulged because she liked to have the comfort. “Besides, I remember the day I saw you. You were so handsome but that first time you seemed distracted.” Now she knew why. But back then she hadn’t. “We clicked right away so I was so confused why I barely heard from you after. I’m glad you came back to find me.” Even if was a while after.

“It was driving me crazy. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And you love that I’m an old man so obviously I didn’t have much to worry about.” He joked, wrapping his hand around hers. There was a slight interruption of their coffees being brought to them, but their banter never faltered. It hadn’t after years of marriage.

“You’d think the decor would have changed but it looks the exact same. Like a time capsul.” She looked around at the same painting she had stared at during other speed rounds of those dates when she didn’t want to look the people in the eyes. Harry had been the one she couldn’t tear her eyes from.

“Kind of nice though. Nostalgia.” He replied, taking his own sweep. “I’ll always love this place. It brought me to you. The best decision of my life was trying to find you again.” His thumb swiped her knuckle as he kissed her cheek again. Still years into their marriage and he was unable to keep away from her.

“And your worst mistake was leaving me the first.” Y/N liked to tease him about it because he would trip over himself. This time though, she got the side eye and a scoff, his all knowing nod enough of an answer. “I’m glad you came back to try and find me. You swept me off my feet. I never imagined meeting someone and feeling connected to them so easily.” They’d gone through why it had hurt the first time they left without exchanging information and that sometimes; the soul just knows. The second time had just been a confirmation. Harry had really thought he was jumping the gun and he was a bit odd for liking her as much as he did but now he knew why.

“Me either. I’ll never take you for granted. Gave me the most beautiful baby and all your love. I couldn’t ask for more.” Y/N rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek, right where the dimple caved into his skin. It was her signature move when she had made him smile after their first few real dates to map out where they were so she could always aim there. “I’m just glad our dates can be much longer now. Speed dates with you aren’t long enough.” She twirled the wedding ring on his finger. “I need many lifetimes.”

[phoenixisobsessed]

💕Positivity prime time! Share five things you love about yourself, four things you're excited for, OR three people you care deeply about and why. Pass this along to someone else who makes you smile💕

I’m gonna do them all because I love yapping HEUEHU. I think I already did something similar to the first one but oh well.

1. I loove my art style. It’s fun silly and whimsical.

2. I love my fashion sense. Not as fun silly and whimsical but it’s mine. Idk if I can put myself into a specific category so I just live as a silly guy.

3. I love my eeeyes I think they’re nice. Green blue grey ish lil shits with long lushes lashes you know it.

4. I love my little silly brain that gives me little silly ideas and the capacity to yap forEVER.

5. I love how much I have developed as a person over the past few years. I personally think I have evolved a bit. Like a pokémon. In many ways.

NEEXT

1. I’m excited for TRANSFORMERS: ONE of course. I’m not American so I haven’t had the privilege of watching it yet.

2. Super excited to go to LEGO-LAND with my parents soon (we’re going there as a nostalgia trip since we used to go there all the time when I was a kid…hehe.)

3. I’m excited for the weekend to start so I can draw a bunch oml.

4. I am very excited to graduate here in June. FINALLY!!

Now to people I care about:

1. My best friend of almost 10 years by now. He has stuck with me through my cringe phase and we can literally talk about anything. That’s crazy. He was also my only irl friend in majority of the years.

2. My dad, he always makes sure that I am alright, and understand how proud he and my mom are of me. He a lil’ autistic but I love him anyway.

3. My home-class teacher in the 6th grade because holy fuck I would have actually genuinely not been here today if it was not for her. She was like my personal therapist and got me through so much shit. Praise her.

Now I shall pass it along to @screamce if he wishes to do this as well…xoxo shoutout to my first mutual on this app love this guy. Y’all should check him out btw its blog is SUPER AWSOM!! And so are his ocs…GRRR (Btw I will respond to your ask soon I just want to make something for it ;3 You’ll see. EHEUEHU)

[songsofelisa]

Unexplainable Episode 086 Internet’s Most Mysterious Song → mysterious legends

Warning: There are none! No gruesome or scary stories, just a fun one!

In the technological age we live in, any sort of knowledge exists right at our fingertips. Whether you need to figure out if you’ve seen that actor in another movie before, because you swear they look familiar, or you’re caught in a heated debate about which city has been destroyed the most in media (the answer is New York City, by the way), it only takes a quick search on the internet to figure it out. There are apps that even identify obscure music and songs by listening and immediately bringing up the title and artist.

However, what if there was a piece of media so obscure that no amount of searching and banding together could possibly identify it? Your apps are useless here and even through the collective power of people on the internet researching and diving into the mystery could not identify it. That is the case, with one such song. A song so mysterious that no one has been able to identify the name or the artists behind it. Today we dive into the mystery of the internet’s most mysterious song. This is Unexplainable.

*cue introductory music*

We set the scene in a dusty, old attic. Luisa Worthem is going through old boxes of her childhood things when she stumbles across a box of old cassette tapes. For those of you who are younger, cassette tapes came about after vinyl records but right before CDs. They had to be rewound, similar to VHS tapes, only sometimes when the ribbon was pulled at, you’d have to use a pencil to set it straight. It was tedious, but the nice thing about cassette tapes was being able to record things right off the radio. See, back in the day, so I’m told, when you wanted to get ahold of your favorite song, there was always the option of sitting by the radio, waiting for it to be played and then hitting the record button as fast as possible to capture it. Sure, sometimes you’d get the interference of an annoying radio host interrupting at the end, but at least you had your favorite song at hand whenever you wanted to listen to it on repeat. As long as you were willing to wait a few seconds in between playing it while the tape rewound, anyway. 

Luisa Worthem had found one such box of these tapes, tapes that had been used to preserve and record such favorites off the radio and creating a unique playlist of what might be the an eclectic mix to some and an crazy man’s ramblings to others. Luisa began to go through them, noting some were her mixes and some were her brother’s. After all, who doesn’t love a trip down memory lane and into the land of nostalgia, right? 

As Luisa listen through, there were plenty of songs she recognized, and others she didn’t. Her brother’s tapes in particular contained a mix of indie rock mixed with alternative music and slow, ethereal sounds. She wasn’t quite as familiar with his choice of music, but he had helpfully labeled many of the songs, providing a list that had the artist and name of the song corresponding with the tapes. 

Except for one song. Luisa noticed that one of the tapes had question marks for both the artist and the song title. She asked her brother about this and he admitted that he had gone back a few years after having made the tapes to retroactively create his list rather than doing it at the time the tapes had been made. That was the one song he was unable to identify. It didn’t help that the quality was lacking and that many of the lyrics sounded garbled and could be hard to make out, thus making it difficult to even try to google the lyrics to identify it. 

That was okay, though, because the thing about the internet is that it connects billions of people around the world, and undoubtedly one of them out there might have the answer. 

It was a passing curiosity, but still Luisa went to the internet to try and identify the song. During her initial search, she posted about it, describing the time of its recording, estimated to be some time in the mid-1980s, as well as any other information that could be gleamed. She provided only a fifteen second sampling of the song. See, Luisa was worried about copyright issues and was hesitant to post the entire song. Fair enough, many video sites and even us podcasters have to be very careful with what we include lest our content be stricken down due to copyright claims. 

However, after a few months, no one had an answer. Luisa herself was only marginally interested in the answer and would soon lose interest in identifying the song. But the fact of the matter was, the internet officially had a hold of this mystery and they were not giving up. 

The problem was, they only had part of the song. Fifteen seconds of it. That was practically nothing! A man who was particularly keen on figuring this one out, reaching out to Luisa in hopes of acquiring a recording of the full song. Luisa, although hesitant, was eventually convinced, posting the full song, allowing the man to download it, before she deleted it. 

The search would continue, Currently the song exists in its entirety out there, feel free to look out for it, and although it currently remains unidentified, I’m still not taking the risk of posting it here lest someone actually come along to claim it and get this episode taken down. 

See, the problem is, the song itself is unassuming. It sounds like a lot of the rock music that was popular in the eighties at the time. If you go through every decade of music, you tend to find that there are trends and with trends, that creates similar sounding songs. After all, who hasn’t heard the opening notes of Under Pressure or Ice Ice Baby and, depending on what kind of person you are, hasn’t been immediately disappointed when you find out the song isn’t what you originally thought it was. This may not be the best example as the songs were released in entirely different decades, but the point stands that music can oftentimes sound the same, especially when being looked back on from a different era. And so, this mysterious song sounded like a lot of music from rock bands back in the eighties. 

But this was recorded off a radio station. This means that there has to be some sort of record of the song and the band out there. This even means that the band and the song have to be known by people! After all, there is such a thing as One Hit Wonders, and even they get remembered year after year. Sure, they only have that one memorable song, but those are the songs people belt out in unison when they’re at a bar. One way or another, this song was featured on a radio station, which means someone out there knows this song. We know this because the full recording does include a radio DJ at the end coming in to move the program along to the next song (remembered when I mentioned that being a problem with recording off the radio?). So, naturally, the next step was to figure out the radio station who aired the song and potentially the host who might have played it in the first place. 

Don’t worry, the internet got on it right away and figured out the radio station and even found the host. Turns out, the song was likely featured as part of of a radio show where the host would encourage up and coming bands to send in tapes with their original music and he would pick out the best ones to feature and air. This likely means that, being with how things are, the band likely never hit it big. They might have tried recording a few songs, sent it in to the radio station, had one of their songs played and then were immediately forgotten about. It’s sad, but it happens. 

Unfortunately, despite this new development, the host no longer works for the radio station nor does he remember the song. He claims there is likely some binder somewhere with a listing that shows the band’s name and the song title, but that he no longer has access to it and who knows where those records would be now and if they were ever digitized or eventually thrown out. Don’t worry, I bet there are internet sleuths out there right now currently trying to track down the records (already having found the digitized ones online to no avail), but currently this line of inquiry is at a standstill. 

This isn’t where the search ends, though. No, instead, audiophiles got to work on trying to identify unique features of the song, mainly they noticed that there was a particular synthesizer used for a brief moment that, according to them indicates a very specific keyboard was used. Apparently, the melody that can be heard is one of the preset options on the Yamaha DX7, which narrows down the time of recording. We already know the song is from the mid-1980s, but in pinpoints exactly when more specifically as this particular synthesizer was not available until 1983. This means, that the song was recorded after 1983 and narrows down that window. I will say, beyond the window of time this song was likely recorded in, not much was learned, though. 

So, where is this search now? Well, as you’re listening to a podcast called Unexplainable, you likely already know that it is still ongoing. Despite the brute force of the internet, the song remains unidentified to this very day. There is a good chance one day, though, we may actually get answers to this particular mystery. No matter how small the band or its following was, there is a good chance someone out there will eventually recognize this song, if not one of the band members themselves. The nice thing is, there is a good chance everyone involved in the making of this song is still alive, and with the slow spreading of this mystery, someone somewhere will likely feel a twinge of familiarity and nostalgia when they hear it identifying it or those involved in its creation once and for all. 

For now, though, this song will remain a mystery and is so far unexplainable. 

Before I go, though, if you’re a music lover who likes to watch talented folk sing and serenade you on the internet with amazing covers then head on over to the YouTube channel YseultSings. No, this isn’t a sponsored plug, this is a genuine recommendation and I hope you all check it out. Who knows, maybe it’ll be one of you music lovers who eventually come together in the comments of her videos to figure out the mystery of the internet��s most mysterious song.

[rainbow-unicornosaur]

Maybe I need to go to bed (I definitely need to go to bed) but I have some feelings to rant about first

Cut for me having weird thoughts about Japan vacations

I feel kind of sour lately about seemingly everyone going on vacation to Japan. I have a lot of complicated feelings about it. One, I’m envious, of course. I want to go to Japan. I went once in 2006 and I would absolutely love to go back. I’m kinda irrationally grumpy that people have the money to go when I don’t. And maybe it’s because I watched One vlog but now I’m getting so many Japan vlogs recommended to me about peoples’ ~crazy~ Japan trips and from the thumbnails they seem very samey and it’s kind of annoying to me.

And a large part of me wants to gatekeep Japan. Like “no, that’s my thing!!” Anime seems so much more popular nowadays than when I was a teen. (I seem like such an old person saying that.) Back then it was harder to get ahold of. I torrented so many sketchy subbed animes and bought chinese knockoff dvds off of ebay (or, to be honest, had my dad buy them for me djdjsjs). Now with better internet, streaming, etc. etc. anime, manga, and other Japanese media seems more popular than ever. Idk what it’s like to be a teenage weeb nowadays but when I was in high school it was Not Cool. But like plenty of popular streamers, youtubers, etc talk about watching anime and stuff so it seems way more accepted. I mean most weebs are probably not going to be the most popular kids in school but still.

But anyway my point with that is like… a lot of people seem to want to go to Japan to live their ultimate anime dream vacation. Or to experience other things that they’ve seen in movies/on youtube/etc. Which I get! Japan has a lot of fun pop culture!! I want to experience those things too! But also Japan has a history and a culture that is way, way older than anime. And I worry that people won’t see that or respect that? There’s so much more to Japan. So much more outside of Tokyo. And of course vacations are expensive and I don’t expect anyone to be able to like, tour the country. But… blah idk exactly what I’m trying to get at here.

I think that a part of me worries that when I do eventually make it to Japan, I’ll be seen as just another foreigner who is there to do the stereotypical White Person Japan Trip. And I can’t help standing out as a foreigner in Japan or help what other people think of me (as much as I wish I could). But as someone who has studied the language and learned a lot about Japanese culture and history outside of its media and pop culture (but also including that stuff), I want to somehow give off the vibe that I’m ~not one of those girls*~. I’m different. I’m special. But also I’m just another white person wanting to go to Japan. Am I really so different? And also, people wanting to live their dream anime vacation are just as valid. And also people go to Japan for more than just anime reasons. Ugh. I feel like kind of a bad and mean person sometimes for looking down on people a bit who I deem as more of a nerd or weebier than me. When a lot of the reason why I feel that way is because I tried so hard to distance myself from my weeby, nerdy past self. At some point I decided that it was a bad way for me to be, and that people wouldn’t like me if I liked anime/manga/etc, so I buried that part of me deep down. Not deep enough to quash it completely, but deep enough that I can hardly enjoy anime (outside of the few that I watched as a kid, because that falls into nostalgia more than anything else) without telling myself that it’s for kids, it’s not worth my time, etc. etc. I can’t let myself enjoy anything!! I can’t even be happy for people going on vacation!!! Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!

Anyway wow that got deep at the end. None of this made any sense probably. Bottom line is i hate other people having fun and i want to be special but i’m not special and i’m just a miserable little freak. It’s almost 1:30 am and i am going to bed

[sorry-imma-scorpio]

anyway, don’t be a stranger :)

It’s a rant :)

I think I have read Solitaire by Alice Oseman a good 20000 times by now. 

You can’t blame me though, it is an amazing piece of literature and I seem to have found solace in its tragic storytelling. 

It has been a while since I’ve posted anything, no one has read it, but is that really the point? I just seem to exist on this plane and yeah. I found an analysis I did of “The World Is Ugly” by My Chemical Romance, total red flag. 7th grade me was an absolute trainwreck. 

I spend 4ish hours a couple weeks ago on my ranking of Taylor Swift’s albums, and my big three are Speak Now, 1989, and Folklore. Not surprising - I grew up on Speak Now, 1989 was a major gift to 10 year old me, and Folklore is my comfort album honestly.

Honestly, I’m considering just putting my name on this blog, make it more personal. Why not? We’re all going to die at some point, might as well name my own diary that’s floating through space and time.

I want to dye my hair dark, it’ll be the second ever time in my 18 years of existence that I have dyed my hair.

My best friend graduated high school this last weekend. I’m so proud of her.

I am always nauseated but I can’t tell if thats because of my F in French or my long-lasting duel with diet culture and societal pressures.

The current song in my Delta-complimentary-headphones is Friend, Please by Twenty One Pilots for no other reason than middle school nostalgia and I am attempting to be an academic weapon (I graduate in less than 20 days and I am having a breakdown about it).

I think that my English teacher is going clinical- she is actually having us use ChatGPT to create a fiction story. Is that not what Hollywood is currently striking? The use of AI in the world of Creative Arts? It’ll be okay, Kai Stormrider (the guardian in this AI-generated mess) will guide me to a hopeful A- at the end of the semester. 

Middle school me would absolutely bully Senior year me for using tumblrdotcom to procrastinate a French assignment that I am literally using google translate for. But hey *shrug* we’re on a floating rock.

I accidentally told one of my ?friend’s? that she dumbs herself down for her boyfriends, but I meant she chooses dumb boys to fall head-over-heels for.

I think she’s going to block me.

In Instagram group chats, I send similar messages to this, but I get told that they are “schizophrenic monologues”... can they not just be me recapping the conversation you asked for a recap on? Must it always be something that requires a diagnosis?

I feel like I should be crying as I write this, but I can’t.

My crying wrapped that I have on Google Forms sits unused this evening, with a total of 36 cries so far that I can remember having this year. It has been 142 days since the year has started. I have spent 25% of this year crying. I thought it was less.

The song has changed- it is now March to the Sea, also by Twenty One Pilots. 

I think Tori Spring was written for me. About me. To me. I feel so similar to her it’s crazy. 

Why do we just write out the full words of “I can not” instead of “I can’t” when we write about period pieces - they used other words. “I mustn’t” for example, still a conjugation, but they used it.

I started another chapstick today. Not because I ran out of my other, but simply because I lost it.

I’ll find it some day. Will I find myself in the way I will inevitably find my vanilla Burt’s Bees?

Life is a bitch.

Hozier played. Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene.

I still haven’t listened to francesca.

I have told my ?friends? about this account, how I use it to cope. But none of them care. A snap back here, a laugh, a text left on read.

Last weekend, I went on a vacation from school for a bit. To go see my best friend as she graduates from high school. It was nice to feel wanted.

I start nearly every line with an I. 

I should be more creative.

“I Wish You Would” by Taylor Swift.

What would you wish for?

I don’t know what I would wish for. A break? A trip? An A in the French class I am still procrastinating?

My girlfriend already went to sleep. I love her so much, just everything she does. I feel bad that I feel like this, but I can’t just tell her. We’re long distance so she would worry and I can’t do that to her - I know that is a whole anxious-avoidance style or whatever. But IDK. I don’t want to stress her out or worry her, so I stay the happy, sunny, golden retriever girlfriend.

The Nick Nelson to her Charlie Spring.

She knows I have shit going on in my life, in my mind, but not as much as I really do deal with.

still not crying

Got some Panic!, MCR, and now Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers. 

“do you feel ashamed?”

I have 22 missing assignments, and even less days to make them up. I’ve mentioned that.

I’m going to procrastinate later. Tomorrow. I sign up for where I sit for graduation.

yay.

you are loved,

scorpio (kind of)

[pop-punklouis]

Hi babe 💗

(I'm answering both of yours in this one) it's fine! I figured you'd be resting up from the trip, I just wanted you to have a message anyways! I hope you managed to get in some nice relaxed time.

Oh yes. We form a good chunk of ourselves when we're young through observation. You grow up and you can see the ways in which you often mirror your parents, it's crazy.

I get that though. Somedays when I wanna read I get through like a few pages and I fall asleep. Or I'm just not in the mental space to read even though reading is my absolute fav thing to do. Maybe you'll find a better time to read if you wanted to, someday, y'know?

Ahhh okay this is a reminder to send pictures of your cats! One of them is a Persian-angora mix and the other is a lil tuxedo cat. They are lowkey enemies even though it's much better than it used to be but you're never gonna catch them becoming friends :((

Stop I love supernatural/paranormal stuff! It's endlessly fascinating to me and I honestly should be delving into it deeper but I often feel like I've too many things I wanna do and too little time. Those are all such cool interests! Umm I love love love psychology. Quite passionate about writing, I suppose. Spirituality. Ooh and space!!

Second ask: thank youuu I mostly just plan on pulling my fic together and maybe reading!

Ahh I've always wanted to play the guitar! Even had bought one but never got around to it rip. Cross stitching, that's pretty cool!! Used to cross stitch a tiny bit. And I kinda wish I had gotten like, art classes of some sort bc I do paint but I've zero training and I'd love some. If I could sketch?? I'd be untouchable. And learning any musical instrument really.

Today's question: what is a very fond memory of yours?

Have a wonderful day love xx

~🌱

HIIIII i just woke up. i pulled an all nighter last night to finish some orders for my shop so i didn’t go to sleep until 5 AM 💀

but! yes, fic used to be a big part of my fandom experience when i was younger so i miss it sometimes yk the nostalgia of it all. wishing you all the best with pulling your fic together 🤍🥺

both of my indoor cats are enemies so i completely get that dynamic lmao but my younger cat likes to bully my older cat more than anything else rip your cats sound so pretty though 💕 here are mine as promised!! (elvis, jagger, dorian, keanu) 🌼

i’m so glad we share that same love for the supernatural/paranormal. it’s just an endless pit of knowledge and intrigue. i can never get enough of it. oooo psychology is a good one. if i had taken one more psych course in undergrad i would’ve minored in psychology which is funny bc all i did was take those classes as electives bc i was interested in them. what’s your favorite interest in psychology? criminal psychology and abnormal psychology are two of mine 👁 and spiritually and space!!!!! yes i also love both of those as well. i used to be a huge space buff when i was younger ✨

playing an instrument takes so much dedication and motivation. two things i did not have growing up lmao i love that you bought a guitar but never played it. very big me energy djdkdkd i had to sell my keyboard bc of the same exact reason years ago. painting would be a dream to be talented in. any type of art actually, but yeah painting would be super cool. the power one holds with a paintbrush astonishes me sometimes ❤️‍🩹

hmmm i think one of my fondest memories is when i went to my first concert. 10 years old going to see hannah montana and the jonas brothers. it’s what turned me on to music and live music as a whole. never stopped breathing it since then 👐🏼 how about you? what’s one of your fondest memories? x

hope you have a great tuesday, love!! 🔮

[boleynqueenes]

I have read all your fics but couldn't find Whitehall Uni, I hope you re upload it somewhere sometime. I absolutely love all your fics, and I understand that writing and updating can be hard so I don't want to pressure you...but I was wondering if you could give maybe the plot outlines for the WIP fics you don't think you will get back to? Like to at least know what the story was supposed to be like. Anyway, keep going, you're a great writer and any update or outtake or extra scene is a treat! 🩷

Oh, that’s because I published the first half.

Again, it was posted a longgg time ago, if there are any og fans that didn’t download the pdf before I warned I was taking it down AO3, I’d be surprised.

But since real life stuff came up, I’ve considered posting what I hadn’t managed to publish yet. Sort of like a Chapter 1 titled Chapter 70 deal. And like I said, the podfics, so those that saved the text out of nostalgia can read along, or just take a nostalgia trip with earphones 💖 If it’s out of your budget I’m open to sharing the pdf, if you’re interested in DMing, tho. I’m prouder of the revised version but there are some things I miss about the og, mainly getting to use actual lyrics 😂 with credit , because no copyright worries when you’re posting on AO3/ffn, and like I said the original names ….

The other plots/excerpts? Maybe someday, I do have one titled LTV I have been thinking of for years…it’s an afterlife fic. And possibly a WU prequel/tie-in when I’m feeling crazy/ if I ever take the diversion/ time travel I plotted with that …

[the-mockinggay]

SELF Talk 5: Liwanag Sa Dilim (not a review)

Two days ago, I finally got a chance to watch Ramona Diaz's documentary And So It Begins, which premiered at Sundance earlier this year. I expected it to be like a throwback Thursday—something to bring back memories of the 2022 people's campaign, maybe even with a bit of nostalgia. I thought it would be a straightforward documentary about the hustle and bustle of that crazy election season. But after watching it, I realized it’s more than just a trip down memory lane. The documentary digs deeper, peeling back the layers of an event that, for many of us, was more than just a campaign; it was a turning point.

It got me thinking about how the campaign, the results, and the aftermath have shaped me, not just as a voter but as someone who genuinely cares about where our country is headed. Now, I’m not saying I’m out here waving flags every day and shouting "Uy, Philippines!!", but something in me shifted as the end credits rolled and the lights in the theater came back on.

I won’t lie—there’s a part of me that feels a deep sadness about the current state of our country. The election results weren’t what many of us hoped for, and today has been a constant reminder of that—the “kasamaan vs. kadiliman” battle that’s playing out in the current political scene, with an in-heat senator, an arrogant and delusional public servant dodging transparency, a family more invested in F1 races than governance, and a circus of clowns who unfortunately hold power up to this day. It feels like the entire country, including the 15 million+ who didn’t want this outcome is caught in the crossfire.

One thing that really stood out to me while watching And So It Begins was my disbelief at how many people still buy into the lies—the fake news, the glorification of a “golden era” that was anything but, and the intimidation tactics used against those who dare to speak the truth. It’s a reminder that our country still has such a long way to go before we can hope to see real change and elect genuine public servants.

This has led to some changes in how I interact online. There's this one social media who climbed its way up lately which I used to repost memes and funny content without much thought, but now I find myself "reposting" videos about the Senate hearings and other political issues. It might seem small, but I believe that spreading these messages, events, or short commentaries help the truth reach new audiences, even those who don’t follow me. Maybe, just maybe, the algorithm will work in favor of the truth.

After the election results, we vowed, “hindi na muling pipikit,” and that’s a promise I intend to keep. Like Taylor also said, “We gotta do it ourselves.” It’s up to us to fight back and push for the change we want to see, because clearly, they’re not going to do it for us.

This is a reminder to myself, and to my fellow Kakampinks as well, to never give up on our country. Just as those before us never wavered, we have to keep the fight alive. Our history is filled with people who stood their ground, even when the odds seemed impossible. They kept their hope burning, and now it’s our turn.

In the end, this isn’t just about the country—it’s also about who I am and what values I uphold. So, no matter how radical loving is, I’m going to keep pushing forward and be a light to others. 🌸

Sincerely,  

Me

[twogravesinsomecemetery]

Some Thoughts on My Struggle IV

The X-Files ended in 2018 with My Struggle IV exactly the way it should have done. It’s exactly what the audience needed. It’s exactly what Mulder and Scully needed. 

I know as viewers we’re not used to getting concrete explanations for things, but the truth is: The way this show ended originally made the revival necessary. The unanswered questions at the end of The Truth and the will-they-won’t-they angst-ridden conclusion to I Want To Believe only kept us wondering. It kept us in the dark about what the actual outcome was. I stand by My Struggle IV because it said with complete certainty: Mulder and Scully are safe at last. It was the third ending we didn’t know we’d needed all along. That closure was like cathartic release.

At the end of the day, Mulder and Scully set out to find William. Not to bring him home or build him into the family, but to make sure he was okay. That was the only thing they wanted to do. Scully specifically wanted to make sure she hadn’t treated him like trash. Well, it all came to fruition. They got to William. They knew he was okay. And even if at the very end they didn’t know he was still alive then they knew that he didn’t want to be found. That he wanted them to let him go. Trying to find ways to shoehorn him back into their lives with fix-it-fic only diminishes what actually happened. What their whole character development was.

I see people say sometimes that ‘no meaningful X-Files content has been made in the last 20 years’, and it makes me so SAD. Because, don’t you see what you’re missing? Is there nothing meaningful in I Want to Believe and Don’t Give Up? Is there nothing meaningful in Babylon and Finding A Common Language Again? The character development in the revival is so IMPORTANT that sometimes I wonder how I ever tolerated Scully when she believed herself not to be responsible for William. When she and Mulder couldn’t talk to each other about these things. One of the most meaningful developments in the revival is them finally getting past their communication problems and actually talking to one another for the first time in 25 years. A five-minute scene in Nothing Lasts Forever has them realising that they want the same things now. That they have their leaps of faith and they want to achieve them together. If you’re looking for something more meaningful than that, then… I don’t know what to tell you. 

Even if you don’t think MSiv was the greatest of storytelling, or the entire revival had its flaws, then I’m not about to disagree with you. However. The people who expected this show to come back after 15 years and to be exactly like 1993 again are… crazy. It was never going to be like that. I don’t think it could have been like that. I don’t think it should have been. I don't think that was the point. It needed to be different. Because Mulder and Scully were different. And yes, God knows it had its memorable monsters of the week and the incomprehensible mythology arcs and the off-the-scale tragedy and sweet MSR moments and the jump-the-shark episodes that made it feel like old times; but the point of it was not to go back to the beginning. The point of the revival was to give us what we’d always been looking for. Closure. A nostalgia trip. A victory lap. A goodbye. A chance to see Fox and Dana one last time when we thought we never would. 

The Truth and I Want To Believe paved the way for My Struggle IV. And, no, maybe it didn’t always have to end this way, but aren’t you glad that it did? Of all the things that could have happened in the last five minutes, what we got was the best possible scenario. The both of them standing hugging underneath harbour lights beginning the next chapter of their lives is an amazing ending point. It’s exactly where we should leave them. We don’t need to see what happens next because we know what happens next. Mulder and Scully get the chance to be parents again, in a world where they’re not hunted down by conspiracies, or aliens, or the Cigarette Smoking Man. They get to live in a world free of the FBI where they can come home at night to their children without the darkness following them in. That hopefulness alone is more than enough. If that isn’t a happily ever after, I don’t know what is. Fox Mulder and Dana Scully got their happy ending. I promise you, they did. 

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 227

The Werther Project/Mummy on the Orient Express

“The Werther Project”

Plot Description: the search for a magical box that could help decide the Book of the Damned leads the brothers into danger

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I’d be far too scared as a teen girl of getting in trouble to take a hammer to a basement wall. Whatever was in that safe would stay there long after I moved out.

Rowena…this is Sam Winchester, you think he has ANY qualms about killing Crowley? After what he had a hand in doing to Dean?

Dean just took on six vampires at once? I don’t like that. That’s too many

Wait. Is Werther the guy to tried to keep Dean and the First Blade in his collection?? Or maybe he didn’t name it after himself but the illusionist from the Men of Letters is behind whatever that safe was keeping the codex for the Book of the Damned locked away (do you love how I say these things like they’re the most natural sentences I could possibly say??)

I love Rowena’s penchant for absolute luxury. The fancy hotels, the lacy nightwear. Yes, girl!

How…how do you explain this case to Dean?

Man, the thing is that at least vengeful spirits, vampires, and demons all act according to certain instincts and patterns. People, though? Regular ass people with unimaginable trauma?

Oh god…if Susie is seeing her dead family due to whatever Sam let out of that box, how horrible is this going to be for Dean?

Dean’s getting purgatory flashbacks??

Oh nooooo, Susieeeeeeee. Sam’s getting the guilt ghost of Susie

Bennyyyyyyyyy. I don’t care if he’s not real, it’s good seeing him again. The fact that Dean doesn’t refute that purgatory was his happy place, at least not right away. (Is there a ship name for Dean and Benny? Denny? Bean? This is their place)

Ok no, I don’t like this Benny anymore. Stop trying to get Dean to kill himself. Stop it. SOMEBODY STOP HIMMMMM

She’s so much better at feigning concern for Sam than she ever was for Crowley, but you can tell she has no remorse about letting him bleed out just to open this safe

Did…Dean broke the spell on his ownnnn

Oh he’s gonna be PISSED when he gets to the basement to see Rowena literally squeezing Sam’s arm like a tube of toothpaste trying to get every last drop of blood out

Well…my expectations were subverted, surprisingly. I didn’t think it was possible to hide that quickly or that well in that small room in the basement, but Rowena pulled it off and escaped…I think. The green smoke she made her exit in looked a little too much like the smoke from the Werther, so I’m not actually sure she was ever there. Because Sam very much was about to give his life to get the codex

Dean did save Sam from bleeding out, and he only needed to give just a little blood to get the Werther open

Every one of her looks is gorgeous.

Sam. Sam, wtf. You can’t just keep her captive like that

I can’t wait for you to get free and burn it all to the ground. I want that for you SO. BADLY.

“Mummy on the Orient Express”

Plot Description: once you see the mummy, you only have 66 seconds to live. The Doctor races against time

A space train with seemingly no track? No thank you

Wasn’t Clara like…SUPER pissed off at the Doctor at the end of the last episode?? Why did you fold so easily, bestie?

This, like, jazz lounge rendition of Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen is really hitting for me

Oh….this is supposed to be (in Clara’s mind at least) a farewell tour between them. One last wild and crazy trip before they split apart forever

I like this setting boundaries Clara

Oh how easily she gets sucked back in to the routine, but also like, CAN he just get on a train and have a normal time? WAS he cursed by some wizard? We’d never see him have just a normal time, it would make for a terrible episode

They are making me so sad. They’re determined to split up after this while also clinging so freaking tightly to each other.

I just realized how rare it is to see the Doctor and companion go somewhere and have to be there overnight

There just HAPPENS to be an expert on alien mythology on this train? Sure.

This IS more like an episode of supernatural, I was just thinking that before the alien mythology expert said the death of the old lady in the first five minutes had no supernatural reasons

I love that the conductor’s worst nightmare when it comes to the train is a mystery shopper so that’s what the Doctor has to pretend to be.

The funny distrust between the Doctor and the engine man, Perkins, is adorable. He’s gathering quite the team to crack this case

I forgot that this was all some weird ploy to study The Foretold (the mummy that’s now killed three people on this trip)

It’s not that this isn’t interesting, just….not a lot to say because it’s just round after round of someone dying at the hands of The Foretold

Well, I LIKED setting boundaries Clara…but now I’m hoping for upholding boundaries Clara. You can’t just fold every time the Doctor tells you to do something.

He didn’t MAKE you lie. He for sure lied about stuff to get you to agree to come here, and yes he told you to lie, but he didn’t MAKE you lie, Clara

I can’t believe they just made him say “are you my mummy?” I mean. It’s an excellent callback

I was wondering if he saved everyone on the train.

I don’t like that particular turn. Look, you can acknowledge that the Doctor isn’t as heartless as he pretends to be, but he still put the fate of humanity in your hands and did not give you all the information you needed. Even though everything worked out, that still doesn’t make what he did right. I would have loved even ONE episode apart

[totaldramafan-lauri]

A little self-discovery

Heyyyyyyy! It’s....b-been a bit! Truthfully, I....I haven’t been completely OK this week. I’ve been dealing with some stuff, but....I’ve been though worse at the same time, so it’s not a super big deal. But.....I wanted to talk about this, cuz I.....kiiiiinda alluded to it before....? Dunno if anyone saw it, tho, but..y’know.......

I-I still wanted to talk about it....

This is something that no one but me will care about, but....s-screw it, I'm already here, and this might be something I'll mention again in the future, so....here goes....

So....this has to do with....family history and stuff, so if that doesn’t interest you, keep scrolling, nothing to see here.....XD

So, I’ve had to do some CRAZY stuff in order to get over post-Eurovision depression this year. I still dunno why it got SO bad this time, cuz it’s usually not, but....yeah. I was doing pretty much nothing but rewatching Eurovision videos for weeks last month. On top of that, my favorite idol/comfort person has been on hiatus for health reasons, and his fanbase is collectively miserable and missing him horribly, which brought down my mood really badly, making it harder to move on from Eurovision which makes me happy. But....I FINALLY did something that got me over it for the most part.

And that’s that....I, uh....I revisited an old special interest of mine. I’m not sure if I’m getting back into it necessarily, but I’ve been looking at old things and having a nostalgia trip. I was last into this in early 2013 (it was one of the last special interests I was into before Total Drama and me getting this blog), so it’s been a while. And....yes, it does have ties to Eurovision for me. It's how I first discovered Eurovision, which....is a really weird story. KeepinmindI’mAmericansoIHADtolearnthroughaweirdway*cough*

Now, I’m not gonna say what this is, cuz it’s not SUPER important to this topic. It’s just the catalyst for it. This is its own can of worms. And honestly, altho I look back on this thing very well (and I consider it one of the best fandoms I’ve ever been in), I’m also embarrassed by it in the present day. This isn’t something I’d really recommend to people. I’m happy it exists, but I’m worried if it’s.....aged well enough to point new fans toward it, is what I’m saying.

All I’ll say for now is that....it has to do with world history, and leave it at that.

(If anyone is interested in me talking about this, and don’t mind me potentially talking about weird stuff, I AM more than happy to explain. There’s a LOTTA stuff I can talk about, seriously. XD I had a lotta great experiences in that fandom, and could basically talk about it all day if I could. It was one of those fandoms that I had multiple phases of. It basically ruled my life for many years, and it helped me learn certain things about myself that are....still getting mileage today.....and again, it’s the reason I got into Eurovision, which I STILL love today, so....NEED I SAY MORE? It’s very close to my heart. I just don’t wanna talk about it RIGHT NOW cuz it’d lead to a huge tangent.)

Point is.....I’m revisting it. I’m looking at old stuff I saved, and even stuff related to it that I made myself. It feels like I’m 18-21 again......and, through that....I remembered that.....there was something I’d started to do, that I’d stopped when I moved on.

I was.....learning Croatian. In 2013....

And I stopped....

I had a whole list of words I’d learned even, and I- I forgot all about, it-

So, uh...I know that sounded REALLY REALLY RANDOM, so- uh-

The same time I was in this fandom, I was part of a subfandom for this group of OCs I really liked, and- g-gosh, this is going all over the place, pffffff- b-but, these OCs, had to do with the history of Yugoslavia and the countries it became and- I sound so stupid right now- P-point is, it was a really weird coincidence, that this happened, not that long after I learned that I’m one-quarter Croatian!

So......family-related rambling time:

So, I knew that my dad’s side of the family was Greek. And that my paternal great-grandparents (none of which I got to meet) were immigrants. But....I didn’t know everything for the longest time. I knew I was Greek, cuz fun fact my last name is VERY Greek, and we celebrate Greek Easter instead of regular Easter (I’m PRETTY SURE I’ve mentioned this on my blog before?). We also follow a few other Greek traditions, and I was taught a few words. And indeed, SOMEWHERE in my grandparents’ house, we still have my grandpa’s parents’ Ellis Island papers when they came to America from Greece. My grandpa is very much Greek.

But.....what about my grandma? Through my childhood, I thought she was also Greek, she’s always just fit in with the traditions and stuff.....I knew that I was told her maiden name when I was young, but I forgot it....and no, turns out she isn’t Greek. Turns out, as I learned randomly as a teenager....she’s actually Yugoslav. But wait, that country doesn’t exist anymore! It DID exist when her parents left it, but....not anymore. I was briefly curious about what she’d identify as in the modern day, but never asked and promptly forgot for a few years cuz it wasn’t a big deal.

BUT, in 2012-2013, somewhere around that time, in a random conversation with my grandpa and uncle, things finally came together. She was playfully poking fun at Greeks, and my grandpa made a joke about Croatians in response.

And it came together, exactly where she was from, and I could say what every part of me was without using outdated words. I was like....”that’s neat” at first, but I didn’t really dwell on it for a while.

But THEN, this fandom happened again! And it got me interested in world history, and I hyperfixated on this group of popular OCs from it, and.....i-it led me to blogs, and art, all dealing with.....all this history, through the lens of characters I liked, and I realized that I was kinda.....learning about a p-part of myself? And through it, I got....curious about it.....? It seemed so interesting to me all of a sudden.....?

I’m....one-quarter Croatian. Yet, I was raised as if I was half Greek. I....didn’t KNOW anything about Croatia or Yugoslavia. My grandma never taught us anything about her family and how they lived. She just took on the role of my Greek grandma with my Greek grandpa and she was just fine with that. And I am too, don’t get me wrong, cuz I love my Greek side, but.....I’ve ALWAYS known and have been in touch with my Greek side. And, for once, I was like...VERY curious all of a sudden, sparked by fandom of all things, to discover my Croatian side.

Through this RP account I used to follow (RIP Formspring), I got interested in the language. I taught myself the alphabet and a few phrases. I also watched a YouTube documentary on the history Yugoslavia once (dunno if it’s still up) and hooooly crap Croats are badass (there’s no other word to describe that, pfffff). That country has been through a LOT and WON. The fact that I probably have distant relatives over there that fought through all that for their independence REALLY interested me. Ashamed as I was to admit it, I got really into learning about Croatian history, all thanks to this really weird coincidence of discovering I’m part Croatian and then almost immediately after, discovering a Croatian character I liked that talked about his history a lot. All the while, jumping between this and a historical comedy anime. It was probably one of my weirdest summers interest-wise. One day, I’d be looking up art of ships I like, and the next, I’d be learning a new thing about Croatia. A fun fact, or a not-so-fun fact, or a new word or phrase, or something completely random from this blog I followed, pffff....

I was super into learning about this seemingly-random country that I was slightly embarrassed about it, and didn’t really talk a lot about it to others. It would’ve been easy to say “my grandma’s from there”, but I dunno, part of me didn’t feel like that was a good enough excuse to admit I’d watched war documentaries. Guess I felt....guilty, so I hid it.

And then.....I stopped.

I got into new interests. It happens. I couldn’t stay fixated forever. The fact that it was a short Kirby’s Return To Dreamland phase, and then Total Drama of all things happening, that led me away is kinda funny to think about......but, eh, with how problematic my old fandom....could PROBABLY be viewed as, I guess I’m happy I avoided having a Tumblr while I was an active fan? Again, it was probably the best fandom I’d ever been in, but.....y’know, with time, things could’ve gotten uglier if I was actively gushing over it, so it kinda does feel like I dodged a bullet. I could easily see myself pissing off a hatedom.

But.....here I am again. I came back. Not to the fandom as a whole, but just feeling nostalgic and looking back at old stuff. And lo and behold, I remembered my old project eventually. I kinda felt bad that I stopped for dumb reasons, but then again, I started for dumb reasons too......

I still remember the alphabet, and a few words. Part of me still wants to learn how to speak in...even small sentences at one point. Not enough to wanna take lessons, but...step-by-step by myself. It’s a “what if” situation. Maybe I never will be able to speak it, but one can dream.

So....yup, that’s what I’ve been up to this past month or so. I’m not watching war documentaries this time, thank god (seriously, 21-year-old me went to the darkest places first, huh >__> Dang history fixation), but I’ve been looking up videos on several locations in Croatia, for one. Gorgeous place. If I could, I’d try to go there, but social anxiety makes it REALLY HARD to bring it up to my family, especially when I’ve NEVER brought it up before. But even in videos, I am immersed when I look at it. It’s my dream vacation (well, one of them). Split is one of the prettiest places I’ve seen in my life. Which, again, I did NOT expect. I’ve heard multiple people talk about the prettiest countries in the world, but did anyone mention Croatia? Nooooo! But it’s a very touristy country for Europe, it’s just that Americans don’t talk about it. Hmph! >__> Not only that, but.....Croatian music. SO much music. SO MUCH. I’m mainly using music as a way to learn new words, and....I got hooked. It’s REALLY WEIRD to say that the music I’ve been listening to has been one-third Eurovision, one-third K-pop, and one-third random Croatian songs from playlists I found on YouTube.

It’s been....a LOTTA Eurodance, actually. I didn’t search for any specific genre of music, I just looked up “hrvatske pjesme”, found a playlist, and it was mostly Eurodance, which I did NOT expect! From the kinda songs Croatia sent to Eurovision, I didn’t really associate them with dance music, but....turns out, they’re REALLY GOOD at dance music? Who would’a guessed.....Seriously, I’m tempted to queue up some of the best songs I’ve been listening to to prove this. I might still do that....

(This doesn’t mean I’m gonna be developing a bias when it comes to Eurovision, tho. I’m still unbiased at heart =P I’ll be happy to have a good song, but if it’s mid, I’ll still say it’s mid. If anything, I might be HARSHER since I know how good their music can be now. And I’m not gonna hold back if 2022 happens again, Hrvatska. Oprostite. =P)

(D-don’t get me wrong, I’m not MAD that they don’t send the stuff I’ve been listening to to Eurovision, cuz.....well, it’s junk food. It’s not for everyone, especially here in the 2020s. XD Going the Balkan route makes more sense. Even this year, when they were taking the piss...still, that song was clever and had a message, which is more substance than Eurodance has, pfffff)

To think that this was all sparked by a fandom....that THAT’S what it took for me to fixate on learning this part of myself. But it’s true. It’s....e-embarrassing, yes. And it really only is one quarter of myself. I really could’ve went the rest of my life without doing any of this. But....my brain works in weird ways. And my interests can be super unpredictable. That’s a fandom that, again, I might talk about another time, but.....it really is super important to me for multiple reasons, and this is one of them - leading me to learning about my grandma’s country and its culture and history.

Why am I sharing all this? Cuz.....for one, I might be following this up with sharing Croatian songs on here in the future, or referencing E.T (Electro Team) or Colonia next Eurovision season, or even something else might pop up. It might seem super random, cuz, again, I’m American.....so I wanna explain where it came from. And also, cuz this started before I joined Tumblr, I...never got to talk about this weird interest of mine before. So...it feels good to finally get it out.

Again, it’s only a quarter of myself, but it’s something that makes me unique, and I’m still happy discovering it.

[nao-writes]

“Is it okay if I use my own mug?”

A simple question asked in an ordinary coffee place. To the barista, it may not mean much; it may mean that I’m someone who cares about the ethical aspect of my day-to-day life and that I notice the environmental damage I’d cause if I simply chose to drink from a plastic cup. To me, it may not mean much either; I just like my mug. It’s decent, inconspicuous, albeit a little impractical, but all in all familiar.

I couldn’t bother to skim through the menu, couldn’t bother to make my own concoction with the barista, definitely couldn’t stick to one drink in fear that I would miss out on the next best thing. Every time I go, I always choose a different kind. It meant that the barista would less likely to remember me by my order, but it’s okay.

I’m surrounded by many strangers. I’m subconsciously eavesdropping their conversations and I’ve come to know that the lovely couple sitting next to me happen to be my senior from the same faculty. But still, they’re strangers. I don’t know their names except the stolen glances I kept making to their lanyards. How old are they? Will we cross paths again? Are they subconsciously building a profile about me as well?

Oh, yeah. The mug. I can feel the dew slowly creeping to the back of my palms, exuding cold and occasionally water would course down the sides like I was 8 year old again witnessing raindrops falling down the car window. Don’t you love when minor occurrences make your mind retract itself to past memories? Remnants of reminiscent thoughts, scattered and somehow made whole again by one irrelevant event.

Not necessarily deja vu. Just a splash of nostalgia here and there, sweet and not at all bone-chilling.

I don’t have any sentimental attachment worth noting for this particular mug. Hell, I wouldn’t even use it outside of coffee errands. The purpose behind me opting out of plastic cups wasn’t to trigger flashbacks, it wasn’t to look environmentally friendly, and it wasn’t because I disliked plastic cups.

So why am I still adamant about the mug?

Everyone knows if it held no importance at all, then it wouldn’t mean anything if I let it go for convenience sake. Receive the coffee by the plastic, discard, repeat. Surely a college student like me covets convenience, right?

But then it wouldn’t feel the same. The water droplets won’t stream the same way, it wouldn’t evoke any sense of familiarity at all. I keep on seeing different strangers every day, drink the different kind of beverage every day, see different baristas every day, in what way should I seek comfort? I’m willing to sacrifice convenience for familiarity, the one not strong enough to evoke deja vu.

I’m not ready to let go off my mug and switch to plastic cups. I want to brush my finger on the ceramic and smile to myself as I realise, that mug has been with me through dozens of trips to the coffee shop.

But this isn’t about a silly mug, a make-believe coffee shop, and irrelevant strangers.

This is about a thing of the past, an ever-changing world, and desperate attempts to cling onto something that should be disposed a long time ago.

We look at quaint, archaic, and impractical things; and we mutter to ourselves, “this should’ve been in the garbage bin months ago”. We keep phone boxes just in case we need them in the future, we let unimportant things clutter everywhere because we figured there would be a time where we need them. But will we really need them, or have we made too much memories?

You’re willing to try and create more memories with the old ceramic mug that weighs down your bag like crazy, instead of starting a new page with plastic cups. The shinier, lighter, and easier kind.

Not because you’re a coward, and not because you’re faithful either.

Because it’s hard letting go of something that’s been with you for ages and you would feel as if you betrayed your roots by switching to something else. You risk losing your identity by changing a part of your life that has etched itself into your core. Somewhere, you know not using the mug anymore doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a traitor to your old self.

But you know it does. It somehow does.

[weirdlittlefish]

holiday anon here!!✨ i’m so jealous you went to harry’s 2018 tour that must’ve been amazing!! i was supposed to go to harry’s 2020 tour but then covid :/ and then when he finally rescheduled my city didn’t have any dates anymore lol so. i think i would’ve been most existed for hear sott and kiwi live! i did go to louis’ tour and it was the best show i’ve been to and i’m soooo excited for fitfwt!! i think the songs i’m most looking forward to are silver tongues and all this time!!

sorry to keep this short so i’ll just ask what your favourite things to do during the holidays are?

-🤍🤍

Hey there!!!

I was very very lucky to be able to go in 2018 for sure and it was crazy!! Sometimes when I’m rarely feeling nostalgic I’ll look up videos from my show and I know there’s one video where I can see myself somewhat and it always trips me out. Can’t remember the video anymore but I know it’s out there. I’m sorry the rescheduling fucked up seeing H for you ☹️ I know that was an issue for a few places and it’s awful.

How fun!!! I bet Louis shows are just so fun and insane! I want to go so badly! How was your Louis show? What was the song you were most excited to hear?? I think if I would’ve went to his show in my city I would’ve been most excited to hear only the brave and defenseless annnd probably kill my mind simply cause the crowd presence!!

Oh I think all this time is gonna be absolutely amazing!!! I love that song so much and silver tongues is so good too such a fun nostalgia song! The whole album is just stunning blew my expectations out of the water. I want him to sing holding onto heartache but idk if he will buuut I’d just love to hear him sing that song and bridge live!

It’s alright, no worries! My favorite thing to do during the holidays is see my family! They only come down for thanksgiving and Christmas so I just adore seeing them cause I miss them so much!! As for small little things I just love indulging in holiday like smells and tastes like candles and soap or certain things my family makes just for these holidays!!! What about you?

I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night!!!

[rosaacicularis]

i need to write another 30k oneshot