#i’ve spent ages just queuing in and leaving

[lyriumsings]

destiny is severely pissing me off how tf am i ever supposed to get the stupid fucking flame in alters when you can’t queue it alone and every single fucking one i queue it they already grabbed the one deepsight that spawned jesus fucking christ

[the-bau-quinjet]

Trending

Summary: Steve thinks you’re too young to like him despite the obvious hints you’re dropping.

Warnings: unspecified age gap

Word count: 2246

a/n: I’ve clearly spent too much time on TikTok recently, but inspired me to write something so that's good. It was loosely based on a request for a young reader x Steve, but I forgot part of the request so I'm gonna write something else for that one! Also, I wrote this on my phone so please excuse any typos I missed when trying to edit it lol

Masterlist

Messing with Steve is one of your favorite things to do. Tiny pranks, over the top flirting, poking fun at his lack of understanding of technology. Anything you can do to get him to roll his eyes and chuckle.

Nat would say it’s because of your feelings for him. She would be correct. Not that you’d ever admit that to anyone. Nope. So instead, you have your fun, and enjoy the way his eyes crinkle and his cheeks redden.

Your newest method of hearing the sweet sound of Steve’s laugh? TikTok. It’s a double whammy. One because he doesn’t understand the app and two because a lot of the trends make him blush.

It started as a fun way to blow off steam. Sometimes, being one of the younger and newer team members made you feel like an outsider. Of course, Peter was younger than you, but he had his own friends outside of the team. You didn’t have anyone else. When Tony found you and invited you to join, it was you against the world. Now you have this makeshift family.

Having your account on TikTok helped you when you hadn’t really become a part of the group yet. You bonded with Peter because of his account, and you found a new way to make Steve blush.

Anyway, you’ve learned way more TikTok dances than you ever would have thought just to see his pink cheeks. It’s not even always over the top dances that have him chuckling. The last trend you did had him laughing the entire day. It was that sound about Wednesday Adams having one thing on her mind. Only when it said homicide, instead of a deadpan expression you panned the camera to show Bucky and Sam arguing over who got the last donut.

Of course, you knew when you made the video it would appeal to Steve’s sense of humor. Sam and Bucky feature in a lot of your videos for that exact reason.

In general, you make a lot of videos featuring the Avengers just to keep Tony happy. He likes to be the center of attention, plus the only way he would approve of your account was if it could also feature as PR for the team. You agreed, as long as you had final say over what you posted. There’s nothing scripted or designed for a specific reason, you just feature the team sometimes.

Like when that sound from the Big Bang theory was popular amongst Avengers fans, you made a video confessing to Pepper that you’d been thinking about the Avengers, panning to show the team during training.

Of course, the text on the screen said “you are an Avenger” instead of “I believe that”, allowing you to play off the joke. But still, it was fun to include the team.

One of your favorite videos features none other than Scott Lang, mostly because nobody else would do it. Scott thought it was hilarious though.

Using the sound from New Girl, Scott played Schmidt and you Jess. The text on the screen read as follows:

Scott: You just walk around all day thinking about America’s Ass?

You: Yeah, don’t you?

Scott: No! How do you get anything done?

You: It’s hard…

Steve blushed like crazy when everyone cornered him to watch it. Bucky, Sam, and Tony wouldn’t stop bringing it up for at least a month. A part of you hoped he might make a move after that video, seeing as you put yourself out there, but he just assumed it was a joke and laughed it off.

Honestly, you were running out of trends that you could use to get him to understand your feelings. You only had two ideas left, and one of them would be mortifying if it didn’t work out…

-

“Steve. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bucky sighed, exasperated with Steve for the umpteenth time that month. “You’ve been pining for forever, just make a move!” he whisper yelled, doing his best not to throttle his lifelong friend.

Steve rolled his eyes, purposefully ignoring Bucky’s pointed glare. The two men had spent the last hour looking through your TikTok account. Bucky was adamant that you liked Steve, but the blonde didn’t believe it, despite the so called proof Bucky kept forcing him to watch.

“Buck, would you please just back off? We’re friends. She’s too young to want to be with me like that.” Steve blushed, thinking about the context of his words.

Before Bucky could say anything about how repressing his feelings is bad for him, a new video popped up on your account. Bucky smirked when he saw the thumbnail was once again a picture of Steve, this time with a beard. Steve took the silence as an opportunity to escape, walking into his closet to change.

The video opened with a video of you and Natasha just hanging out, you lip syncing to the words “I like you have a cupcake.” You repeated the words as the video cut to you and Tony.

Bucky nearly dropped the phone when “smack my ass like a drum” blared from the speaker. He cackled bending over in a fit of laughter when he realized that’s what Steve’s picture was used for- and one where he had a beard to boot.

“What is it now, jerk?” Steve emerged from his closet, having changed into loungewear. The sight of Bucky fully cackling had him nervous.

Bucky tossed him the phone, doing his best to stop laughing long enough to tell him to watch the most recent video. With a hesitant sigh, Steve obliged.

Again, Bucky rolled his eyes at how obvious Steve’s feelings were. The second he saw you on the screen, he smiled. And not one of those half hearted polite smiles, a full on happy smile.

Steve’s eyes widened, nearly bulging out of his head when he got to the end of the video.

“‘She doesn’t want to be with me like that.’” Bucky mocked his friends earlier words, grabbing his phone back. “Punk, I don’t know how much more obvious she could be.”

With one more glare in Steve’s direction, Bucky finally left him to his own thoughts. Okay, so you made a lot of videos about how you find him attractive. That doesn’t necessarily mean you’d want to be in a relationship with him. Leave it to Steve to talk himself out of everything Bucky had spent so long trying to convince him of.

-

You were desperate at this point. You honestly thought the cupcake one would send him over the edge, but it didn’t work either. It has been three days, and you know Steve’s seen the video because everyone likes to tease him about it.

“Naaaaaat, it’s not working,” you whined, dramatically throwing yourself onto her bed. She laughed at your antics, briefly looking up at you before deciding to stop what she was going and give you her full attention.

“Look, not only is Steve one of the most clueless people I’ve ever met when it comes to women, but he can also talk himself out of believing someone’s interested in him. Especially you.” Nat watched as you lifted your head from her comforter, slowly turning to stare at her with narrowed eyes.

“Especially me?” you questioned. Why would you have a different standard?

“Y/N, Steve’s from the 40s. He’s super old fashioned. You're a hot young thing, super up to date on modern trends. He thinks you're just messing around as friends because he doesn’t believe someone as young as you would be interested in actually having a relationship with him,” she spelt it out for you, sick of trying to get you to figure it out on your own.

You took a minute to fully understand what she was saying, but then sat up when a new idea struck. “So you’re saying I need to be more direct?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded nonetheless.

“I’ve got an idea. Thanks Nat!” you ran from the room before she could question your newest plan, instead checking to make sure her notifications were on for posts from your TikTok account.

-

“Steve!” you shouted when you saw him down the hall, about to turn a corner. He immediately stopped, turning back to see you running at him. “I need your help!”

You pulled him into the gym, briefly glancing around the room to make sure it was empty. Confirming nobody else was present, you set up your phone on one of the weight racks to record the two of you. It was already open to the recording section of TikTok, the sound you needed queued and ready to begin.

“What’s going on?” Steve looked between you and the phone, nerves heightening as he realized what you were doing. All of your videos about him thus far hasn’t actually involved him filming anything.

“I just need you to react to this trend, okay? It’s kind of old, but that doesn’t really matter,” you spoke quickly, trying to start the video before he could decline.

The music started playing instantly, with Steve awkwardly looking between the screen and you. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was reacting to, and it had him on edge. Just as the song reached the chorus, you turned and grabbed his face. Throwing caution to the wind, you followed through with your plan before you could back out, kissing him with all the passion and emotion you’d been holding back.

Steve froze, clearly surprised by your actions. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. He kissed you with equal passion and emotion, no longer paying attention to your phone recording the moment.

Neither of you noticed when the music cut off, too wrapped up in each other. When the need for air overpowered the desire to keep kissing him, you pulled back to gasp in a few breaths. Steve leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closed and breathing erratic.

The two do you spent the next few moments just breathing, trying to come to terms with what just happened. You gasped when his hands moved, one resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek. His eyes were still closed when you chanced a glance at him.

“What was the trend?” he breathily whispered the words, still coming down from the high of kissing you.

“Huh?” you mumbled, unable to comprehend the question when he was still touching you like this.

“The TikTok trend? What was it?” his grip on your hip tightened, but his hand framing your face remained gentle.

“Oh, uh, it was- it was kissing your best friend/crush.” You whispered, heart still racing from his proximity. Your nerves had never been greater. Yeah, Nat always tells you that Steve has feelings for you, but what if he was just being polite? Maybe he didn’t know how to reject you when you kissed him out of nowhere, and now he’s trying to find a way to turn you down gently. What if-

“Was my reaction good enough to post?” he broke your train of thought with another question. You took a minute to think about the question, your brain still moving like molasses

“Um, that depends…” you froze when his eyes opened and stared into yours.

“On?” he prompted you to continue.

“Which caption I can use.” you finished the thought, finally remembering the two most common outcomes of the trend.

“What are the choices?” Steve smirked when you looked flustered, clearly not expecting this conversation.

“Uh, the two-” he began rubbing small circles into your hip with his thumb, effectively cutting off your train of thought again. It wasn’t until he lightly squeezed your hip again that you remember you were answering his question.

“Right! The two most common captions are some variation of ‘this was so awkward’ or ‘we’re dating now’,” you managed to blurt out the choices, blushing when he smiled at you.

“Well, I know which I prefer…” you waited with bated breath as he prolonged the silence, enjoying seeing you so on edge. You nearly whined when he let you go, moving to pick up your phone from the weight rack.

You watched in silence as he typed out a caption, tapping each letter with his pointer finger. A small smile formed on your lips at his adorable old man behavior. He then managed to find the post button, adding the video to your account before handing you the phone to see what he chose.

Your smile only grew after you read the caption, dropping the phone and immediately kissing him again.

-

Meanwhile, Nat had gathered the rest of the team that happened to be around to wait for whatever video you had planned to be posted.

Tony, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, Peter, and Clint all watched as the new video popped up on the screen. Peter bounced with excitement when he heard the song, instantly recognizing the trend. The rest of the group watched as you kissed Steve, mouths gaping open when he actually kissed you back.

Fans were already commenting about how long it took for the two of you to get together, but the team was too focused on laughing at the caption to pay any mind to the comments.

She said the trend was kind of old, but that fits because I’ve got a habit of waiting too long anyways.

Permanent taglist: @averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @strawberryspence @sebastnstn @jswessie187 @ellobruv

Marvel: @leyannrae @livstilinski @oceaniamaddness @justreadingficsdontmindme

[aces-of-the-center-court]

Hello~ mod Raine here! Usually, it’s mod sunny who writes the headcanons while I do the proofreading. But this time, I took on the role of writing as well! However, as I had only watched the anime and not the manga, I had to research the characters’ personalities (esp Sakusa & Atsumu who hasn’t appeared much in the anime) and write accordingly to what I found, so I hope it’s not too out of character? Also!! This was our first attempt at writing a scenario instead of our usual headcanon. I felt that it flows better this way, so I tried my best > < Sorry it took so long!! Hope you’d enjoy it!

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

It was a rainy evening. Sakusa decided to stop by a convenience store on his way home. He closed his umbrella and placed it into the umbrella stand. After grabbing some items, Sakusa caught a whiff of a familiar scent when he stood in line for payment. The smell, exuding from the person queuing in front of him, brought him back to his memories from high school. It smelled like you.

Was he hallucinating? After the two of you had separated, he had mistakenly thought he saw you on numerous occasions, only to realise it was just someone who looked similar from the back. But this time, he wasn’t mistaken. He caught a glimpse of the handkerchief he gave you during your birthday when you used it to wipe your wallet that got wet from the rain. Sakusa’s eyes lit up. He opened his mouth to call you, but hesitated. He was sure it was you, but what if it wasn’t? He doubted. His eyes followed you as you walked towards the exit of the convenience store without realising that he was behind you.

Just as you were about to leave, you noticed that your umbrella was missing. It was no longer in the umbrella stand, so someone else must have taken it. You cursed your luck and was about to turn back to buy another umbrella when you recognised one of the umbrellas within the stand – it looked exactly like his. Although it could very well be someone else’s umbrella, and you could just be getting your hopes high for nothing, you still turned to search for him. There he was, in front of the cashier, staring back at you.

The eye contact returned Sakusa to reality. He quickly made his payment and paced towards you. He looked at the umbrella stand and hesitantly asked, “…What are you doing here?” To which you sheepishly replied, “Oh... my umbrella’s gone. I was about to get another one.” You looked out the glass door at the pouring rain outside and continued, “It doesn’t seem like it’ll stop anytime soon, you see.”

A pause later, Sakusa suggested, “How about I walk you home instead? The umbrellas here are… you know, not sturdy.” He thought of an excuse and grabbed his umbrella, glancing at you as he waited for your response. At your nod, the both of you headed out.

During the walk, you made sure to leave some space between the two of you to respect his germaphobe tendencies. Sakusa noticed it and tilted the umbrella towards you. When you looked over to him and realised his shoulder was getting wet, you broke the silence, “Sakusa-kun, your shoulder is going to get wet.”

“One of us will have to get wet with this space between us.” He muttered. Before you contemplated if you should move closer, he shifted closer to you under the umbrella. The two of you continued walking in tranquillity, shoulders touching.

“How have you been?” You broke the awkward silence again. Good, how about you? Good too. You imagined the flow of conversation and even the silence that would follow after. However, besides the rain sounds that filled the air, it was hushed. Sakusa wasn’t sure how he should answer. Should he tell you about his volleyball career or how he regretted the breakup with you? What about how he had never spent a day without missing you? Or how every little thing reminded him of you? With a sigh, he resigned, “Not that great.”

Astonished by his reply, you concernedly questioned, “Why not? Is something wrong?” Sakusa slowed his steps to a stop. You looked over to him and halted your steps as well.

“I missed you.” He said, voice soft behind his mask and the loud rain. Pushing his hesitation to the back of his mind, he turned to face you.

“I really miss you, y/n. Can we… start over again?”

Miya Atsumu:

<Stuck in traffic, will probably be around 10 minutes late… Sorry!!!!>

Your face lit up with your phone when you received a message from your best friend, but quickly dulled when you realised that they were going to be late. You sighed and leaned your back against the wall, deciding to play a game on your phone while waiting for your best friend.

“Eh~ Is this who I think it is?” A familiar voice called out.

Looking up from your phone, you saw a familiar figure lean his back against the wall next to you with his arms crossed. “What are you doing here?” Atsumu asked with a sly grin on his face.

You were at a sports hall where the current season’s volleyball matches were held. You had heard that Atsumu continued volleyball professionally, but you were not here for him. You were only here because your best friend had asked you to come watch the match with them. At least, that was how you tried to convince yourself. Either way, you were hoping to not bump into him here, but here he was, right next to you.

“What do you think? Everyone’s either here to play or watch the volleyball matches.” You kept your eyes on your phone, avoiding eye contact with him as you continued to sarcastically remark, “I’m not a player obviously, so I’m here to watch the match.”

He let out a wince, cocking his head to face you while still leaning against the wall, “Someone’s feeling prickly today?” You rolled your eyes as you pushed yourself off the wall and began walking away from him. You didn’t want to see him in case he could tell your feelings for him had not completely faded. But Atsumu trailed after you.

“Ah~ I thought you were here to see me.” He spoke loud enough for you to hear as he kept his pace behind you, a hint of teasing present in his voice. Unbeknownst to you, none of that statement was a lie. Atsumu was indeed hoping that you came just so you could see him.

“Why would I?” You responded, deadpan, dimming the glimmer of hope Atsumu held on to.

“Because you haven’t seen me in a while?”

“So? I’ve gotten over you since ages.” His heart stung when you said those words you did not mean so coldly.

“I want you to say that to my face.” He quickened his stride to catch up to you and stood in your line of sight. “It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them,” He voiced in a serious tone, “But if you can look at me in the eyes and still say the same, then I’d believe you.” Despite his words, in his mind, Atsumu pleaded for the opposite. Tell me I’m not the only one who haven’t gotten over our relationship.

You gulped. “Why does it matter whether I’m over you or not anyway!” You raised your voice and turned around to walk away from him.

“Because I know I’m not.”

His words left you frozen in your tracks. He stepped towards you and pulled you to him as he hugged you from the back. In his embrace, you could feel his warmth and his heartbeat. His voice, low as he whispered next to your ear, “My mind just won’t stop thinking about you whether I see you or not. You have no idea how thrilled I was when I saw you just now. It’s impossible to forget about you even if I try, I can’t take this any longer.”

Releasing you from his clutch, he whirled you around to face him and slid his arms down from your shoulders to your fingers. With your hands in his, he gazed longingly into your eyes as he declared, “Be mine again, will you?”

Oikawa Tooru:

The bell jingled as the café door was pushed open.

“Hi, wel-” Until you saw the customer who just stepped in, you greeted as per usual, only to trail off the end of your words when you recognised the customer, “…come.”

Looking in the direction of the familiar voice, Oikawa was equally surprised to see you. He had only come to visit the newly opened café on his rest day, hoping to enjoy some leisure time. But he was not expecting to see his ex, working behind the counter. He stayed stunned, staring wide-eyed at you with his mouth slightly agape while a wave of nostalgia hit him.

Remaining professional, you put on a polite smile and properly greeted him again, “Welcome.” He regained his composure and returned the smile, then proceeded to take a seat by the window. As you continued your work as usual, Oikawa watched you silently. He watched your expressions as you greeted the customers with a smile. Oh, how much he missed that smile of yours.

He felt a tug at his heartstrings as he recalled the moments that he had with you, back when you used to laugh with him, with a smile even brighter than your current one. He got up and walked to the counter where you were stationed – and there you were, with a polite smile, not the one he was used to seeing.

“How can I help you?” You asked him with a solemn smile, as with every customer.

Be with me again. He imagined saying, but ultimately shook off the thought. “What would you recommend?” He returned the question instead.

Though you were somewhat taken aback by his request, you contemplated carefully before responding, “How about some earl grey tea to go with our classic Hokkaido milk bread? Or hot chocolate if you’re feeling for something sweeter? It goes well with the milk bread too.”

A faint smile formed on his lips when he realised you still remembered his favourite food – milk bread. The smile quickly disappeared as he felt his heart wrench. He missed you, so much.

“I’ll take an earl grey tea for me and a hot chocolate for you,” He shifted his gaze from the milk bread to you, “do you have some time?”

A flirty remark, others may think, but Oikawa’s expression was more serious than his usual grin. You broke away from his intense gaze to check the time – it was almost break time soon, maybe you could spare him a few minutes. “So, one earl grey tea and one hot chocolate,” You read out loud as you entered it into the cash register, “any milk bread for you?”

“Goes without saying, right?” Oikawa flashed a lopsided grin, one that used to make your heart flutter. It still did, but you ignored it and completed his order before taking your break.

During your break, you took a seat across him and grabbed the cup of hot chocolate. “Loads of whipped cream in your hot chocolate?” Oikawa casually asked whilst stirring his tea.

“Goes without saying, right?” You replied without hesitation, “It’s my hot chocolate you’re talking about.” You took a sip of your whipped cream filled hot chocolate. When you placed your cup back down, a cream moustache had formed across your top lip, causing a chuckle to escape from him. By habit, Oikawa reached his hand out to wipe it off, “You never change, do you?”

He paused his thumb midway on your lips after realising his actions and retracted his hands. You awkwardly picked up a napkin to wipe your lips instead. A pensive moment of silence later, you heard him take a deep breath. As you made eye contact with those glistening eyes of his, words poured out of his mouth, full of sincerity.

“Let’s start over, y/n. I need you.”

[marvinswriting]

old vers

ménage, chapter one

ménage: (noun) the members of a household hi! welcome to my first (posted) original g/t work! its gonna be multi chaptered, this one is pretty much worldbuilding, but there’s more to come!

riley pov

It was night time, the only light in the kitchen was the moonlight filtering softly into the kitchen. The white glow bounced delicately off the counter under the windowsill, illuminating the room. A girl entered the room, walked silently across the tile floor. She walked with purpose, seemingly already knowing what she was looking for- but paused with confusion when the counter was empty. "Where are you hiding?" There was no audible response, but the girl knew better. She looked to the dark corner of the kitchen with a grin. "Hey Audwin". 

A small figure emerged from the shadows, no more than four inches tall. The form moved across the counter, stopping when they reached the moonlight. "You're getting better at sensing where I am." His small voice traveled perfectly across the silent kitchen.

"I've been practicing." The girl said softly, crossing the kitchen. 

This was their friendship. They had two different worlds, two different lives. Yet on late night meetings, they were equal. Nobody knew they hung out. Borrowers would think the boy was reckless and humans would think the girl was crazy. So they met in secrecy. 

They didn’t talk much that night. They simply enjoyed each other’s company.

"You should get to bed." The borrower commented after a while. "You're going to be miserable tomorrow if you don’t."

The girl smiled. "Maybe."

"Definitely." 

The girl laughed. "Fine, I"ll go to bed. Good night, Audwin."

"Until tomorrow." He smiled, watching the girl get up and leave the kitchen, the room falling silent once again.

Lenna laughed, pulling her teddy bear closer to her. “That’s my favorite story.”

“Really?” I smile, closing the book. “I like the one where the borrower fights a mouse.”

“He fights a mouse?!” Lanna sits up in bed wide eyes. “Read it, Riley!”

“No no, you promised one bedtime story and you wouldn't give a problem about going to sleep tonight.”

Lanna pouts. “I’m nine! Why can’t I stay up?”

“Sorry sweets, Rebeckah said it’s bedtime. Look, Kenny fell asleep.” I point across the room to where a blond mop of hair peaked out from under to covers of another bed.

“Kenny is eight. I’m nine.”

“Oh quite the age difference, huh.” When the only response I got was a stuck out tongue, I continued, “Let’s make a deal,” I say, turning to book over in my hand. “I’ll read you two stories before bed tomorrow if you go to bed now.”

Lanna perked up instantly. “Deal!” She throws the covers over her head and I laugh. “Night, Lanna.”

“Goodnight, Riley!”

I smile, turning the lights off in the room, watching the night light reflect off the two beds. Lanna and Kenny were the two youngest children that Rebeckah is fostering. It’s hard to get them to bed when everyone else stays up so late but- I look at the book I’m holding- bedtime stories work magic.

The ‘book’ was a collection of short stories Rebeckah wrote when she was little. She still writes, but not as often. I remember her reading me stories when I was little, and now I read them when Rebeckah is busy. 

Rebeckah works hard. She takes care of six kids, has an at home job, and still has time to write stories of tiny people in the walls. She had to have at least three notebooks full and no two stories are the same. We’ve tried to convince her to publish them but she says they’re personal. Which- I understand, but also if I could write like her, I’d want everyone to know.

I walk downstairs and stop in front of Rebekah’s office, knocking gently on the door.

“Come in!”

I step into the work, holding up the book. “Just wanted to put this back.”

“Kenny give you any problems about bed?”

“No, it was actually Lanna.”

Rebeckah raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I grin, placing the notebook amongst the others on a shelf in the back of the room. “When did you start writing these books?” I ask, my finger trailing across the spine of them.

Rebekah gets up from her desks, standing next to me. “Oh, maybe I was thirteen when I wrote the first one?” She picked up one of the notebooks.

It was evidently the oldest. The spine of the book was loose and the cover was faded. Some of the pages had folded corners and the pen ink smudged in places. Rebeckah turned it over in her hand, opening the back cover. There was a small date I never noticed before written neatly in the bottom right.

“I was fourteen, actually.” 

“You were a good writer for a fourteen year old.” I say. “The stories feel so real.”

Rebeckah simply winks. 

“Thank you, Riley. Now- I’m almost done with my work for tonight but if I want to be done before eight I’m gonna need you to shoo.” She waved me away with a smile.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you.” I grin, shutting the door to the office behind me. 

It clicks shut, the sound echoing softly through the hallway. Just another typical saturday night. Rebeckah works late, Matteo makes dinner, I put the young ones to bed, and then-

“Riley!” A voice calls from further in the house.

I grin knowingly. Right on cue. “Be quiet Evan, Lanna and Kenny are sleeping!”

There’s no response, probably for the best. Screaming across the house is surely a way to wake the younger kids.

I make my way back up the stairs, creeping past Lanna and Kenny’s room, before slipping into the room at the very end of the hall. “What do the three of you want?”

“Wow, rude. You should know by now” Matteo rolled his eyes, motioning to the tv hooked on the wall across from his bed. 

Matteo was the oldest of all the kids, first to be fostered by Rebeckah, and the one with the nicest room. Him and Megan were the only two who didn’t share a room, but that didn’t mean the older kids didn’t crash in Matteo’s room all the time. I think Evan and I spent more time here then in our own room.

“Riley sits next to me!” Megan grins, patting the spot on the bed next to her. 

Evan had already gotten situated on a chair he pulled up next to the bed.

“I dunno, Meg, Matteo may want to sit on his own bed.”

Matteo and I were seventeen with Evan turning seventeen in two weeks, Megan on the other hand, was barely thirteen. Which wasn’t a problem, I love Meg, but I glanced at the horror movie queued up on Matteo's TV with a raised eyebrow.

Evan raised his hands in defense. “Megan picked it.”

“Really?!” I grin.

“I wanna try and watch it.” Megan smiled as Matteo sat next to her. 

“If you insist.” I shake my head, sitting on the floor in front of Evan. “If you get nightmares, Matteo is dealing with it.”

“I’m a teenager. I’m too big for nightmares.” Megan stuck out her tongue as Matteo hit play. 

“If you say so, Meg.” Evan teased. 

Despite what Meg said, she tapped out halfway through the movie, claiming she was ‘just tired’ and ‘ready for bed’. Matteo, Evan, and I all grinned knowingly but let her leave before finishing the movie ourselves. 

Just another saturday night. 

Rebeckah came up around eleven telling us to go to bed, and Evan and I reluctantly made our way to our room. 

“We’re too old for bedtimes.” Evan whined, changing into his pajamas. 

“Now you sound like Lanna, dude.” I laugh.

Out of everyone in the home, Evan was the closest to me. Both in age and friendship. There’s a reason I share a room with him, not Meg or Lanna. He’s the one to learn all my secrets, not that I could hide anything from him if I tried. 

“So,” Evan grinned, sitting on the edge of my bed, holding out his phone. “I was flirting with this girl, but she turned me down because she’s a lesbian. Which is understandable, but- I told her I know a gal with the same personality as me who’s always complaining about being single. Here’s her photo, and if you want, I can give you her number.”

I laugh. “I don't need you to play wingman for me, I can get all the girls I want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Evan shook his head in disbelief.

“Hey! You’re just as single as I am, dude. Leave me alone.”

“I’m trying to help you Riley.” Evan laughed. “Do you want the number or not?”

“...yes.”

so, no g/t this chapter, bc *worldbuilding* n shit, but uh, thanks for joining me!  wanna be on a taglist? lmk! all feedback is appreciated, go drink water!

[iamakiller]

FaceTime with Nicole

It’s Self-Care Sunday.  The one day a month Nicole gets to herself.

Henry spent the night at her mom’s yesterday, so Nicole was able to sleep in until the blissful hour of ten. No demands for breakfast.  No cartoons on full blast in the living room.  And absolutely no terrifying drives to the emergency room with an eight year old boy bleeding and crying all over the cream interior of the car.

No, none of that.  Today is all about Nicole.

Face mask on and tub of low-fat non-dairy ice cream beside her on the couch, she has just queued up the first episode of the new season of The Crown on Netflix when her phone goes off.

Of course it’s Charlie.

Fuck.

She answers it without thinking, forgetting that it’s a FaceTime call, so the first thing Charlie says is a rather shocked, “Jesus, Nicole!  What the hell have you done to your face?” and then he starts laughing.

She would scowl at him, but the mask has already started to dry, and she doesn’t want to have to deal with cleaning up shards of it off the couch. “It’s Amazonian Clay,” she tells him shortly.  “Great for anti-aging.  I’ll send you the link, if you want.  You should try it.”

Twenty seconds in to their conversation, and she’s already fired the first shot.  Must be a new record.  But it’s better to start off that way, isn’t it?  Assert dominance before her ex starts running rings around her.  Talking down to her.  Like he always does.

Charlie’s lips briefly press into a thin line, but he doesn’t reply.  The silence stretches … and stretches … and stretches.  Nicole begins to feel stupid and uncomfortable.  Beside her, the ice cream is already beginning to melt.

She cracks first, as always.  “What do you want?” she demands.  “You know Henry’s at my mom’s, right?”

“Yes, I know,” he replies.  She can’t see him rolling his eyes, but she can definitely hear it in the tone of his voice.  “That’s why I’m calling now. I wanted to talk to you without the possibility of him listening in.”

“O-kay,” she says, very slowly.  Now that she thinks about it, he looks rather more serious than usual.  Almost nervous.  And Charlie rarely looks anything but smug, self-satisfied and supremely confident. “You have ten minutes before I need to wash this mask off.  I’m listening.”

Charlie takes a breath ... and then hesitates, as though he doesn’t know where to begin.  Which once again, is completely unlike him.  In the absence of him speaking, Nicole’s mind starts running riot with the possibilities of what he’s about to say.  Maybe he’s going to jail for murder!  Maybe he has cancer!  Maybe he’s relocating to Europe and she’ll never have to see him again …

“It’s about Britt,” he begins, and then stops again, chewing on the inside of his lip in that annoying way he does sometimes.

Nicole frowns.  A puff of dust falls off the face mask, and drops onto the front of her nice white bathrobe, staining it pink.  That name again.  It’s been over a year, and that woman is still around, and Nicole can’t understand why.  Henry talks about her quite often, and has a photo of her, Charlie and himself on his nightstand. Nicole glanced at the photo just once, when Henry had been waving it in her face.  She remembers thinking that Britt didn’t look anything like her.  She didn’t look anything like those floozies Nicole used to convince herself Charlie was just flirting with, either …  “Oh?” she says, in the most disinterested tone anyone in the world has ever used.  “What about her?”

Charlie runs his hand through his hair twice, even though it looks annoyingly perfect as always.  “She’s been offered a transfer at work. We’ll be relocating next month -”

Oh, thank god, Nicole thinks, relief rushing to her head so quickly she almost feels drunk with it. Please let it be far away.  Like Europe.  Or Africa.  Or the moon.  

“- to LA.”

There’s a faint buzzing in her ears.  Her jaw tightens involuntarily.  A couple more chunks fall off the mask, and flutter down onto her robe. “I’m sorry,” she says, softly.  Dangerously.  “I must be hearing things.  I thought you just said you’re moving to LA.”

The bastard actually gulps, but he sounds extremely patronizing when he responds, “I did.  I wanted to let you know as early as possible. I thought it was only fair to keep you in the loop, as it were.”

Fair? Fair?  There is a tirade of words beginning to creep up her throat like a tsunami of bile.  But all she does is nod slowly, and all she says is, “I understand.”

She watches his shoulders slump slightly, and a smile begin to appear. “Okay, good-”

“I just think it’s funny how you’re deciding to do it now.”  The words tumble out of her mouth.  She hadn’t even known she was going to say them.  Hadn’t even thought them.  And now there they are, hanging in the air between them like a bad smell.

The smile fades, and Charlie’s brow creases as he begins to frown. “Excuse me, what?”  He’s keeping his voice quiet and calm.  The hand that isn’t holding the phone is raised, palm facing her, as though he is trying to deal with some rabid animal.

Well, two can play at that game.  Where she blurted out her last sentence, now she speaks slowly, enunciating every word quite clearly.  “It’s really interesting how you promised you were going to move out here two years ago, and then you changed your mind at the last minute.  But now that she wants to-”

The fingers on the raised hand are now flexing slightly.  “We’ve talked about this so many times. You know I’ve been trying to think of a way to make this happen -”

“BULLSHIT!” she yells.  In the quiet of the house, it echoes slightly, so it sounds like there are several Nicoles all calling him on his crap.

That stops him right in his tracks.  Half the goddamn mask has just cracked off, but it was worth it to see the bastard shit himself like that for once. But he’s still not rising to her bait, like she wants him to.  Like she knows he wants to.  He clears his throat.  “Nicole … sweetheart … let’s be reasonable …”

Nicole grits her teeth.  Fucking fucker.  “Don’t you dare ‘sweetheart’ me, Charlie Barber!  Don’t you fucking dare tell me to be reasonable.  I’m just pointing out a fact here.  You wouldn’t do it for Henry.  You wouldn’t move to LA for your own son.  But you’ll do it for her-”

“No. NO -”  Finally, he’s starting to lose his cool.  Finally.

She rolls her eyes.  “Sure, Charlie.”

His mouth opens and closes several times like a fish before he speaks again.  “Listen, Nicole.  Listen.  We’re doing it because I want to be closer to Henry.”

She snorts.  “It’s always about what you want, isn’t it?”

He’s pointing at her now, finger stabbing to emphasize every word he says. “That’s not true-”

This time, she lets out a mirthless HA!  “I get it, Charlie.  Now it’s convenient for you, you’re going to do it.  Well maybe it’s not convenient for us.  Maybe we don’t want you here.  Have you even thought about that?”

His big, stupid mouth snaps shut.  His face has gone even paler than usual.  He’s staring at her like she’s just slapped him.  “What?”

“You can’t just do whatever you want, Charlie.  That’s not how it works.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but she has already hung up on him.

She slams the phone down on the couch, and marches up the stairs to the bathroom to wash the mask off.  It hasn’t been anywhere near ten minutes yet, but she needs to do something; needs to distract herself from the way her hands have begun to shake, and her eyes have started to sting. Even from upstairs, she can hear the phone ringing and ringing, but she ignores it as she dabs her face dry with a towel, then applies toner, moisturizer, eye cream, and a lip mask, all without looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

By the time she’s finished, the phone has stopped ringing.  Nicole straightens her robe and leaves the bathroom, but instead of taking a left and heading back downstairs, she turns right into Henry’s room.  She steps over and around the minefield of Lego that Henry promised he was going to clean up before her mom picked him up last night, sits down on the edge of his unmade bed, and after a few moments turns her gaze towards the photo she’s looked at only once before.

It was taken outside the Museum of Natural History last winter vacation, judging by their attire.  Henry is standing in the middle, clutching his latest haul of dinosaur merchandise, and pulling a funny face at the camera. Both Charlie and the woman have a hand on Henry’s shoulder, and an arm around each other.  Her head is resting against Charlie’s chest, and he is looking down at her and Henry with a small, soft smile.

They look like a family, Nicole thinks, feeling slightly sick.

And just like that, Self-Care Sunday is over.

[ellipsesarefun]

DAMIRAE DAY 5: Soulbond

A/N: SO THIS CAME OUT OF NOWHERE I SWEAR HAHHAHAAH. It’s probs the coffee talking but damn. Finished this baby todaaayyy after reviewing for a subject (and damn is this a weird day because writing and studying feels like two different worlds) so this will be queued to post on the 14th or 15th? Maybe I’m too excited but it’s been awhile since I’ve been excited to write something.. Been awhile since I’ve used 1st POV. This is probs a bit messy :( But I’ll edit some stuff out someday..

May not be participating anymore but I hope to come back to DamiRae <3 It’s been a comfort to me during my study breaks.

------

There are some things about my magic that I cannot fully comprehend nor explain. 

Ever since I’ve healed the young Robin, I’ve been receiving vivid dreams. I can’t fully grasp the images but the emotions that wake me to reality are always filled with heartaches, pining, and desperation. I never bothered to clue anyone in on what they are. Kory knows I have dreams but I can never tell her what happens in them because I don’t know how to describe them.. Damian has his ways of knowing. The little bird never lets me forget that. But he never asked, just implied. And I never said anything, merely let him draw his own conclusions.

I’ve been harboring feelings for him for a long time but I never acted on them for a number of reasons... Sometimes, we were romantically and sexually involved with other people. Other times, there never seemed to be a time and place to voice it out on the open. The moments we spent alone meditating, reading together, flying during my nightly rituals are the moments I cherish too much to let him feel my burden.

But out of all the reasons I've expounded, My father is the center. Even when I have created an enchanted fortress created out of his and my own demonic magic (with the help of Constantine and Zatanna), I still fear that he may one day break through those chains and destroy Earth... and kill Damian. Trigon senses the bond between us and it disgusts him.

His insults hit right through my own insecurities. I mean technically, he is trapped in crystal that’s stored in a small box that I carry around but damnit there are times when his thoughts crowd over to mine and... it terrifies me.

The mechanics of the bond isn’t the “if he dies, then I die too” but more of “I feel his presence more than I let on”. I still have no idea if it also might be the former, but the latter is one that I experience often. I don't always know what he is feeling (I may be an Empath but I have my mental barriers to maintain). It's only when he's in danger do my senses burn right through my barriers. It probably comes with this strong sense of protectiveness within me, a desperate need to keep him safe... and it’s becoming a little too obvious.

Throughout the six years as Titans, training with Damian has gradually become a torture... Every urge to shot turns into every urge to shield him from the pain... Every scar he receives fuels my anger against those who dare to hurt him, especially the enemies we’ve faced during missions and/or patrol. 

The last one was worse. I arrived at the scene with him on the floor, body tainted with bruises and then..

I saw him on the floor.. suddenly burnt into ashes.. face barely recognizable... I heard my screams of agony, despair, and heartbreak as I watched my other self enveloping him in what seems a spell..

I love you...

And it wasn’t a dream but a memory... It all felt so real, like I was in Apokolips (what the hell is Apokolips?) once more and the Earth has crumbled to its fucked up state and he was gone and I needed to save him (from what?)...

I didn’t even stop to comprehend what it was and I lost my control. 

AZARATH. METRION. ZINTHOS!

...

I blacked out, I think, and now I find myself back in the infirmary of the Titans Tower. Not a single glimpse of a sunlight reached the room and nothing stands out from the dark except a figure sitting beaide me.

"Hi." Is the only greeting I offered. Damian stands and turns the lights back on. He sits back down, burning holes into my skull. I squint at the brightness and immediately force myself to focus at some place that isn't him.. I couldn't bare to look at him.

I hear a sigh but I let my gaze linger at the clock far longer than I liked, matching my breaths with the ticks and tocks of the arrows of the clock. His agitation prickles at my senses like a thorn to my side. The damned urge to come and wrap him in my arms gradually resurfaces once more. 

He clears his throat just in time, like he already knew what I was thinking and I look down, hoping he doesn’t notice the heat pooling my cheeks. 

“Look,” he says and I pause my train of thought, “You and I both know there’s more to this that letting your demon lose and almost killing Dr. Light, so let’s not beat around the bush.” I couldn’t look at him, I just can’t bear to.. But I nodded, just so he knows that I’m taking his words seriously (and I always do)..

I might as well tell him..

“I’ve been having nightmares ever since the first time I healed you.” There’s movement from my periphery but I ignore it, “Of you.. dying...” Silence is his only answer so I continued.

“It wasn’t that bad at first but through years it’s been difficult to fight this desire to protect you all the time.” I haven’t reached the most important part yet and I’m already feeling the rising tension in the air. He holds up a hand, and I wait for him to speak as I try to calm my heartbeat. 

“Raven, I was trained by the League of the Assassins. I know how to handle myself-” 

“I know you do, Damian.” I cut him off, hearing my voice rise a bit,

(And I realize later that he didn't need to say this because damnit the smart ass saw right through me. He only did so to bait me into confessing.)

“But these aren’t nightmares.. not really. They’re from another timeline.” I let out a sigh. This conversation is beginning to exhaust me but he needs to know. I turn to him this time and he’s not holding back his own concern etched on his face. He gets up from his chair and sits at the edge of my bed. My gaze drifts to his hand. I remember a lingering feeling, probably from another memory of that timeline, that he’d reach out and hold my hand in his. 

“There was a war.. We were around at this age..” I continue, “We were trying to stop someone and... you died in the process. I revived you.. brought you back from the dead.” I watch him watch me. Not a single gasp was uttered nor any ounce of surprised was showed on his face. I didn’t sense any of that. There was so much I can pick from that unreadable frown. 

Longing, concern, understanding.. and it’s only occurred to me that he knows. He’s known this whole time. I was too engrossed to what he felt and what Trigon may do that I didn’t stop to read through his actions. But does he...

No.. I shouldn't ask... not when I haven't laid all the cards out..

"We have a bond.. sort of." I say, and he nods, confirming of his own assumptions, "But I'm not sure if this will get us killed. So far the pain inflicted on you does not mean I receive the same kind of pain. It just fuels my drive to protect you."

"And you think that this was a result from our previous affections to one another in that timeline." He concludes.

"We never really spent time together as... together." I say. It feels out of the blue but something about what I said needed to be heard, "You left for the League of Assassins. You offered me a place there because you had feelings for me. I would have went with you if Trigon hadn't threatened me to kill you if I stayed..."

I face him, feeling this odd confidence swelling within me. "I do still have feelings for you. And Trigon still wants to kill you so.. that hasn't changed.." 

There is a slight elation and giddiness within me as I catch a mixture of bewilderment and amusement on his features. But my heart begins to soar as I watch a tiny, tender smile drawn by his lips.

I've seen that smile before.. a couple of times. There were only glimpses of that smile during our many glances throughout the years, hidden beneath the layers of his mask.

And now the last of his mask has finally come off.

"Raven," he says and I feel the tingle in my ears at the sound of my name, "You should know by now that my perseverance exceeds the fear of being devoured by demonic conquerer of worlds."

I frown at him. "You sound so sure of yourself..."

"You've defeated him twice, Raven." He reasons, "In this timeline and probably in other timelines. You were lucky, you say, but now.. you're--no, we're, more than four times as lucky."

"Damian.. where is this all coming from?" I ask, because he makes it sound so simple. Like he's up against merely a strict father who wouldn't let his daughter marry the person she loves in those cheesy romcoms. But this isn't a romcom. This is Trigon, for Azar's sake..

"He isn't called a Conquerer of Worlds for no reason!"

"And that doesn't stop you for creating a tiny fortress that entraps and gradually diminishes his demonic magic instead of trapping him in a crystal and sticking it to your forehead from your other timeline. Look Raven,” he continues, “You and I both know that there’s something between us? Why wait for the inevitable?” Why wait till I leave for the League of Assassins? Why wait till the possibility of Apokolips comes around again? He leans in and his bright green eyes search my own.

I keep my frown on my face, not wanting to give in to his charms. He throws back a smirk because he's fucking...

"Insufferable. That’s what you are." I spit the words at him, only halfheartedly at best. He laughs. The cheeky fucker is laughing me.

"But I'm a kind and generous soul." He teases with a grin on his face. And shit, I can't fight my own my smile any longer. He reaches out and I meet him halfway, entwining our fingers together. I haven't affirmed anything but the gesture already is the answer. Our answer. We’ve been dancing around this for a long time. Might as well take the chance before it’s too late.

Something magical, his aura perhaps, loops with my own. I close my eyes let the magic guide me.. and him. A meadow materializes itself and I find him in the distance, his smile warm and inviting. I extend my hand to him and he mirrors my actions. A raven flies out of my hand and another one out of his. At the same time we open our eyes and-

The magic suddenly bursts forth into a kaleidoscope of colors, a plethora of shapes of any kind. They all coalesce into a giant raven. A white raven. It soars above us, circling around the room with a happy tune. It eventually disappears into a sparkle of fireworks. We laugh and turn our gazes to one another. 

With foreheads pressed against each other, we guide our silent conversation with twinkles in our eyes and smiles forming on our lips. It's like those typical chessy lovebird montage things people see in romantic subplots. It might be the calmness of the air or the sleep edging its way through my train of thought but I can sense our heartbeats in sync. A lullaby to my woes, perhaps, but someone like me can hope that this bond is knitting our souls into a comfortable blanket, however mysterious and unpredictable it may be.

Trigon's box rattles on the table. I almost forgot that it was there in the first place. I feel his presence, cursing disgusting words at the edge of my aura but I pay no heed. 

After all, I'm a billion times luckier now.

[tetrakys]

idk if someone send you that request but it obviously matches Armin: 43, 42 & 52

42. “Just let me finish this/this level and I swear I’ll go down on you until you cum at least three times.” & 43. “If I have to stop what I’m doing, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.” & 52. “I’m not jealous! It’s just…you’re mine!”

I’m sorry honey this took me only what… four/five months? 😅 hope it was worth the wait.

I needed something quick and dirty with UL Armin and I remembered this prompt request. I know there’s probably only 3 people here who may be interested in this, so @itsmymindspeaking and @fuckyalllifes this is for us 😂

.

I chugged my drink in one go, a little dizziness coming to my head. I had spent good part of the night drinking and I was feeling just a little tipsy. It wasn’t like I was bored, I was out with my friends after all, but I wasn’t having the time of my life either.

I looked at Alexy and Morgan kissing passionately without a care in the world, and then at Rosa and Leigh, looking at each other with a complicity that anyone would’ve envied.

Then I looked at the empty seat right next to me.

“Is everything all right, Candy?” Rosa asked, sensing my discomfort. “It’s about Armin, isn’t it? Where is he, anyway? It feels like I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Where do you think?” I replied without managing to hide the annoyance from my voice. “In his dorm room of course. He’s been holed up in there since the beginning of spring break.”

“Wait… he’s not… no it can’t be… is he spending the holidays playing video games 24/7?”

“Of course he is!” Alexy replied before I’d time to say anything. He must’ve caught our conversation between one kiss and the next. “Yesterday morning I left him sitting in front of the tv playing that stupid co-op game he likes so much, and that’s exactly where I found him this evening before we came here. I’m not even surprised, I gave up on him years ago.” He turned back in his seat, looking at Morgan adoringly. “Luckily, I don’t have to suffer through the night because of his constant jabbering with his geek friends, I’ve found a more comfortable accommodation. If I’m kept up all night is for completely different and more pleasurable reasons.”

After those words he started kissing Morgan again, abandoning the rest of the conversation.

“Well,” Rosa went on, “this isn’t right. You can’t let him take you for granted, Candy. Do something!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… try to make him jealous.”

“Ha! You know that won’t work. He’s the least possessive person on the face of the Earth.” I replied a little defeated.

“Then remind him what he’s missing out on by spending the whole time in front of a screen instead of his girlfriend!”

“Meaning? You know that I won’t be able to tempt him with a date. The times we go out, he does it just to please me, if it were for him we would spend the whole day in his room playing games. And don’t get me wrong, I love playing with him, it’s just that sometimes I need more, like…” I hesitated, “I don’t know, I feel like a spoiled child just saying this but… sometimes I just want his undivided attention.”

“Then take it!”

“How?”

She looked at me like I was stupid.

“You’re a woman, it’s not that hard to figure out. Do I need to check your underwear like in high school?”

“There’s no need. But… are you suggesting using my body to beg him for attention? Isn’t it a little too desperate?” I asked biting my lip nervously.

“Aren’t you? Desperate?” she replied ironically. “Look, it’s not that big of deal, really. Even I… you know how Leigh can get sometimes,” she looked at him queuing at the bar to get us a refill. “He’s so passionate about his work. Sometimes I need to remind him to take a break,” she laughed.

“Mmm…” I replied evasively. Her words weren’t completely unreasonable. I was a strong, modern woman, if I wanted something, I just had to take it. I’m a woman hear me roar and all that…

Maybe… maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

—

 “Be careful…  On your right! No! Fuck! It’s a grenade!”

I was leaning against the doorframe as I stared at my boyfriend, willing him to take notice of me. He was sitting down on the floor, back against the bed, wearing only his boxer shorts and a t-shirt. Controller in his hands, his eyes fixed on the big screen in front of him. I could hear the muffled voices of his teammates coming from the headphones he was wearing.

I’d let myself in thanks to my spare keys ten minutes ago, and since then I’d been waiting for him to strike a conversation with me. A distracted “Hi babe,” was everything that I’d gotten so far.

I thought again about Rosa’s suggestion. Was I really going to do this? Yes, yes I was. It was time to send the message through.

I started from my shoes, removing one at the time, then it was my t-shirt’s turn. I thought it was going to take longer for him to take notice of what was going on, but he must’ve caught the garment dropping to the floor with the corner of his eye, because he sent me a quick glance, surprised, and asked, “what are you doing, babe?”

“Just making myself comfortable,” I replied, as my hands went to the zip of my jeans.

I continued undressing seemingly without a care in the world, and he kept playing, but I could tell he wasn’t as focused as he’d been before. He kept throwing quick glances my way whenever he had a chance.

Soon enough I was left in just my underwear, but I didn’t stop, and went for the clasp of my bra.

“Fuck!” he cried out, he’d clearly messed up something in the game the moment my bra had come off and he’d stared at my breasts one second too long. I could hear irate voices coming from his headphones. “Just let me finish this level and I swear I’ll go down on you until you cum at least three times,” he said in an almost pleading voice.

I simply shook my head as with slow, calculating movements, I slipped my fingers under the hem of my panties and let them fall to the floor.

A horse groan came directly from his throat. “If I have to stop what I’m doing, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.” He tried to sound authoritative, failing miserably. “Please…”

“Keep playing, Armin.” I said walking towards him.

Without giving him any time to realise what I was about to do, I kneeled on the floor and forced my way between his arms, straddling him.

“Candy,” he cried out a little panicked, his hands almost losing their grip on the controller, “what…”

“Shhh…” I whispered in his ear. “Keep playing, not a sound, otherwise your friends are going to figure out something is going on.”

After these words, I started languidly kissing his neck. From the stiffness of his body, around which I was completely enveloped, I knew he was shocked and didn’t know exactly what to do. His shallow breaths were also an indication of his nervousness, and if the angry voices I could hear yelling at him from his headphones weren’t indication enough of the fact that he was pretty distracted, only half concentrating on the game, the hard length pressing against my core would’ve definitely been a telling hint.

“Fuck!” he groaned the moment I lowered the hem of his boxer briefs and took him in my hand. A couple of short, tentative strokes.

“MadHatter what the hell!” I heard someone yelling, and I knew Armin was finding more and more difficult to concentrate. Without wasting any more time, I lowered myself onto him, filling me to the hilt.

“Shhh…” I whispered again, as he started making a series of unintelligible sounds. “Don’t even think about muting the mic. Eyes on that screen and play, I know how important it is to you.”

I started riding him slowly, almost excruciatingly slow. I knew I was making him go completely crazy. My hands where at each side of his head, holding the bed frame. No other parts of our bodies were touching, except for our cores, and my nipples rubbing against his still clothed chest, every time I moved up and down.

“Candy… Fuck… I can’t… this is too hot…”

I knew he’d dropped the controller the moment I felt both of his hands on my ass, as he started guiding my movements faster and deeper. The irate protests of his teammates coming from the headphones signalled he’d just left out of the blue in the middle of the game. Everyone was probably getting slaughtered by the other team, but he didn’t seem to care. He took my lips with his and gave me a hungry, mind-blowing kiss.

Our movements got wilder, the pace almost brutal, punishing. I was throwing all my anger into it and, at the same time, he was taking everything and demanding even more, his fingers probably leaving ten small bruises on the skin of my ass cheeks. I was sure we would either pass out soon due to lack of oxygen or seriously hurt ourselves.

A few minutes later, when he took one of my nipples in his mouth and sucked it roughly, I came completely undone, crying out his name as he spent himself inside me.

“I don’t know what I did to make you so angry,” he said after a while, as we both caught our breaths, “but I should probably do it more often.”

“Or maybe you should just pay me some fucking attention,” I retorted. “Instead of playing with your online friends all the time. And then, maybe, you would get fucked senseless more often.”

He moved his head so that now he was looking at me in the eye with his signature jokester smile. “Are you jealous, babe?”

I grabbed his hair, pulling maybe a little more roughly than necessary. “I’m not jealous! It’s just…you’re mine!”

“That, I am.” Without losing his hold on me, he got up and threw me onto the bed.

“Armin what the…”

“I told you, didn’t I? If I had to stop playing, you wouldn’t be able to walk for a week.” He cheekily, replied as he took off his t-shirt and underwear and joined me on the bed.

He didn’t go back online until the end of spring break.

[saysomethingspiderman]

Something Wonderful (PT. 4)

Synopsis: During your time as a professional photographer, you had come across incredibly good looking men, but there was just something about Tom that stood out. Who would have thought shooting the self-titled “walking meme” would change your life forever?

Chapter word count: 4.2k

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven // Part Eight

It was a lot easier than expected to extend your stay at your hotel, scheduling your leave for a week later as requested by Tom. Changing your flight was a completely different story, but after a couple of hours and a hefty fine later (that’s what savings were for, right?), everything got sorted. There was a guilt in the pit of your stomach about spending so much money to stay away with a guy you’d been on one date with, but it was all so new and exciting and you just didn’t care. How often did this happen? In your professional life, the odd occasion. In your personal life, absolutely never.

Since your date, the two of you had only managed to see each other for a quick lunch the day after before Tom had to rush off for an interview with Jake. He’d texted you admitting and apologising about his schedule already getting in the way. You’d glanced at the message while you’d settled down in your hotel room with a Chinese takeaway, fully aware that he was enjoying a five star meal on the other side of town with his team. It was difficult and you made it work as much as you could, but there was the thought you’d wasted your time. You even grew the balls to express this to him over the phone on your third night, still yet to physically see him since the very rushed lunch.

“I just feel like I need a break from the city,” Tom said on the other end of the phone.

You sighed. “That’s hardly going to work going by how busy your diary is.” Standing from the edge of the bed, you moved to the large window and looked over the city that never sleeps. From the height you were at, everyone seemed like ants running around in their hectic lives. Somehow it was somewhat peaceful to watch.

“Well I’ll be done for the day in a couple of hours if nothing drastically changes,” came Tom’s reply, coaxing you to look away from a scene of midday road rage down below. “Yeah, that’s what we’ll do. This’ll make up for your shit stay.”

“What? It’s not been-”

“We’ll rent a car and just go somewhere. Stay the night away maybe… I’m not back at work until tomorrow night so it’s doable.”

Stay the night somewhere, just the two of you?

“Okay,” you smiled, absently picking at some paint that was starting to peel away on the windowsill. “Where are we gonna go?”

“We’ll figure that out later. It’ll be awesome! There’ll be no phone calls to interrupt us about work. It’ll just be you and me.”

Your cheeks warmed and a huge grin lit up your face as butterflies fluttered around in your stomach.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asked. Chattering and laughter could be heard in the background so you assumed he was at the studio for an interview. You’d completely forgotten who was interviewing him. The amount of talk shows and famous names Tom had mentioned had all blurred into one. It was like he was on one constant, never ending interview. At least that’s what it felt like. “I just thought… Yeah, actually, you could do the honours and decide where we go. That’ll be your job.”

“Well I was gonna go on a little photography day out around the city, but I suppose I can blow that off.”

“You know you could have come-”

“Yes, yes, I know, Tom. Maybe another time, yeah?”

Although things had felt like they were moving a million miles an hour between you and Tom (even though, ironically, you’d yet to spend more than an hour together during the last few days), you’d wanted to keep some sort of normality in the beginning of your… Whatever this was. Relationship? Definitely not. That’s why you’d put a hold on meeting his friends and family; it was far too soon for that. Tom’s parents were back home in London with his brothers Sam and Paddy, but Harry and his closest friend Harrison had stayed with Tom to travel around the world on the press junket. There had been so many times during your stay in New York where Tom had suggested you hang out with them, just for an hour or so while his work was quiet and more behind the scenes, but you always said no. You explained you just wanted the time to get to know him first. You kept the other half of the reason to yourself. You wanted to spend time alone with him just to be certain it was worth it, that it had the possibility to go somewhere amazing. That was normal, wasn’t it?

Tom’s sigh was barely audible, but you heard it.

“I’m sorry. Just not yet. Anyway, your driving might be awful and you could kill us off before I get a proper chance,” you murmured, smiling a little to yourself.

“My driving will entirely depend on how annoying you are later, darling.”

You could practically hear the smirk on his face. Giving a loud laugh, you shook your head and moved away from the window, kicking some dirty clothes on the floor into the small pile that had built up in the corner. “Go get back to work. I’ll sort the trip out and I’ll see you later.”

Keeping Tom’s work commitments in mind, you chose Philadelphia. It wasn’t too far a drive in case there was an emergency that meant you’d have to shoot back, and through the extremely limited research you’d done, you’d found an exhibition at The Franklin Institute dedicated to the Marvel Universe. In no way was that the deciding factor when it came to picking the destination. No, not at all.

You weren’t entirely sure how busy Tom would be for the rest of the day, so you went ahead and sorted a car and a cheap hotel too, then quickly sent him a message to explain everything had been booked and he could pay you back by buying dinner on the way over. Again, this was exactly how one spent their savings, wasn’t it? They were for fun, spontaneous trips and not for proper adult things.

It felt as though the rest of the day dragged because you were so excited for the road trip. With your small overnight bag packed, you tried to make the time pass as quickly as possible by pottering around the hotel room; watching whatever was on TV, messaging friends, double and triple checking all the bookings were sorted - anything to make the time fly by. After what felt like an age, Tom texted you to let you know he was outside, having picked up the car.

“Okay, before you say anything, I had no control over what car they gave us,” you said after making your way out of the hotel. You stood there and tried to hold back a laugh at the little red Nissan. It wasn’t exactly the cool convertible you’d fantasised about.

“Next time, I’m in charge of the car,” Tom replied with a chuckle as you slid into the passenger seat, closing the door with a slam. He tossed a wrapped burrito onto your lap.

You brought Google Maps up on your phone and found the hotel before setting it on the dashboard, then dug into your food.

“Philadelphia?” Tom questioned, pulling out onto the road. You couldn’t quite explain what it was, but seeing him driving was hot. The dark t-shirt he was wearing tightened around his arms, showing off his muscles as he gripped the wheel. “What’s in Philadelphia?”

“You’ll see,” you shrugged and gave him a grin, getting a smile from the boy in return.

Admittedly, you hadn’t thought much about how the visit to the Marvel exhibition would go. Yes, you knew that Tom would love it and be insanely interested in everything going on, but you hadn’t actually thought about the attention his presence would attract. He was Spider-Man after all. If he kept his head down and his hat on then hopefully all would be well.

It took longer than expected to get onto the highway, but when you eventually made it onto the smoother road, you relaxed into your seat and wound your window down to get some fresh, exhaust-filled air into the car.

“I haven’t even asked how your day was,” you said, looking over at Tom. His brow furrowed slightly as he focused intently on the road ahead.

“It was fun, always is, but sometimes I just get a bit bored of being asked the same questions over and over,” he replied, quickly casting his eyes your way before moving his attention back to the road.

“Like whether you and Zendaya are dating?” you smirked and caught the slight shake of his head. You weren’t surprised at how fed up he was of those rumours, having suffered with them for the last few years. “Or what it was like filming in your own home land?”

“I wasn’t aware of how much you were keeping up with all my interviews.”

“Well I’ve got to pass the time somehow.”

He chuckled. “I appreciate people have set questions and all, but the more creative ones are always better.” He reached over and fiddled with the radio, pressing a few buttons until it connected with his phone. “Go on, you can be the DJ. No pressure, but this could make or break us.”

“I wasn’t aware there was anything to make or break.” His snort of laughter made you grin and you took his phone to open up Spotify so you could have a nosy through his playlists. “Bit of a Destiny’s Child fan, are you?”

“Isn’t everyone?”

Well you couldn’t argue with that. You took the time to make a quick playlist and queued some songs, mixing it up a little and playing music from old school noughties hits to cheesy pop to classic rock anthems, throwing a bit of Destiny’s Child in there just to make him smile. As the beat of the music hit you, the both of you loosened up and started dancing stupidly in your seats, singing in funny voices to imitate the stars of your childhood. When it came to the first word of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody bursting through the speakers, you both stopped your movements and instantly joined in, as though part of the band. The ballad started and with that, so did the dramatics. Moving your arms and singing as loudly as you possibly could, you both fought for who would be the next Freddie Mercury and the fact you didn’t have the instruments there in the car didn’t stop you and Tom from playing them in the air - at least as much as he could without taking both hands off the wheel. There wasn’t a care in the world for what cars driving by thought of the couple of weirdos completely going for it. The guitar solo came and you had to admit, you were much better at air guitar than he was, but he could sing the higher notes far better. The music faded and you both burst into laughter.

“Wow, that was… Bad,” Tom laughed, forehead shining with sweat from his performance. “I don’t think you actually hit one note right just then.”

“Alright, Beyoncé,” you giggled and reached over to push his shoulder.

“Well I didn’t get the role of Billy Elliot for no reason,” he grinned cheekily and you laughed loudly before giving him another shove. His grin broadened as he grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. You didn’t pull away. He gave it a squeeze and placed your hand back on your lap, though instead of putting his back on the wheel, he settled it on your knee, where it remained for the rest of the drive.

The sun had just started to lower when you parked up in front of the hotel, casting a golden hue over everything in sight. Tom’s dark eyes sparkled in the light and you caught flecks of hazel in them. They were beautiful. He gave you a warm smile, eyes squinting slightly, and he squeezed your knee one final time before getting out of the car to get the bags.

“Are you going to tell me why we’ve come here yet?” he asked, following you into the hotel.

“You’ll see soon. We’ll just dump our stuff and head out, yeah? You’ll like it, I promise.”

You headed over to the front desk so you could check in. After giving your name and ID, the receptionist found your reservation on the computer. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly. “There seems to be a little bit of a mix up with your room,” she said, looking up and glancing between the two of you. “The room that’s been booked for you is a double room instead of the twin room you requested.”

“Okay, well can it be changed?” you asked and tried not to get too flustered.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but all the twin rooms are fully booked.”

“But I booked-”

“It’s okay,” Tom interjected, stepping slightly closer to the desk. He shot the receptionist a smile. “We’ll just have the double. I can sleep in the bath or outside or something,” he chuckled and you shook your head, biting back a smile. Not that you would let it happen, but you knew he one hundred percent would sleep outside in the hall if you asked him to.

Tom picked up your bags and carried them up to the room. Seeing the large double bed with towels rolled up into two swans that connected at the beak to make a heart, your face flamed and you scratched the back of your head awkwardly. “I guess I’ll take the couch,” you murmured and stared at the sorry-looking piece of furniture that Tom tossed the bags onto.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You get the bed.”

“I’m the only one small enough to be able to stretch out on it. For once, it seems you’re actually too tall for something.”

“If you want to talk about our heights, just let me know because I’ve got a whole file up in here filled with jokes about you,” he grinned, tapping the side of his head.

“Wow, a whole file dedicated to me?” you sighed dramatically and placed a hand over your heart. “I’m touched, Tom. Really, I am.”

“Oh piss off,” he laughed and pulled off his hat to fluff his hair up a little, only to then put the cap back on. “Come on, it’s time for you to show me why I had to put up with your horrible singing for the longest two hours of my life.”

To keep things a secret, you took control of the car and drove to the Franklin Institute. With every passing sign for the exhibit or civilian you drove past with some sort of Marvel item of clothing on, you broke into a cold sweat, but Tom didn’t mentioned anything whether he noticed or not. Going by the quiet singing to himself and tapping away on his phone he was doing, he seemed not to catch on, which was great. Even when you pulled up in the parking lot and there was a sign for the exhibit mere meters away from the car, he got out obliviously. You gave a breath of a laugh. God, he was blind.

“Have we come all this way for a museum?” he asked and followed you out of the parking garage. All you did was flash him a grin, giving nothing away.

“Okay, the only thing I’m gonna say is to keep your hat on,” you told him when you walked around to the front of the building. Groups of people of all ages passed by, rushing to get inside or chatting with each other after just leaving the exhibit. You caught a glimpse of Tom, squinting at the taller boy, the setting sun making it almost impossible to see properly. But you saw the confused expression ghost his features after a couple of young children ran between the two of you in Captain America costumes, shield and all.

“[Y/N], where are we?”

You grabbed a hold of his arm and gave it a squeeze, feeling the hard muscles under the skin. “I know you might be a bit sick of work and you wanted a break, but I just couldn’t help myself,” you grinned and gave a laugh when he finally spotted one of the many signs advertising the Marvel exhibit. When he didn’t show immediate signs of elation, you bit your lower lip nervously. Was this a bad idea? “We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to… I’m sure there’s plenty of other things to do here…”

“What? No, no, this is awesome!” Tom assured you and pulled his arm from your grip so he could wrap it around your shoulders. “Sorry, just took me a second to read it properly.” Ah, that explained it. He’d only ever briefly mentioned his dyslexia in passing comments a few times before.

You moved an arm around his waist and tried to ignore your stomach flipping at the warmth his chest brought. “Well just be sure you keep that hat on, Holland.”

Walking along the red carpet, you followed the small crowd into the first room where people fought over to get the best view of Marvel’s first published comic book. Even Tom had to hold himself back from lunging forward to press his nose right up against the glass case. You took photos together in front of the artifacts, pulling faces in a few but gave your best smile for the rest. It was strange being so close to the props and costumes used in the films, even more so due to the fact you were wandering around with one of the stars. As you slowly made your way through the rooms, Tom quietly told you some behind-the-scenes stories of his time on set, including some of the pranks the older guys played on him just because he was the baby of the group. It was near enough impossible not to smile goofily at every word. His excitement and pure adoration for the entire Marvel Universe was adorable.

In the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar red and blue costume peeking out from the next room. You didn’t think twice about grabbing a hold of Tom’s hand to drag him through to the other area and you didn’t pay attention to the fact he didn’t let go once you’d stopped in front of Spider-Man sculpture hanging upside down from the ceiling. He squeezed your hand, beaming.

“It says it’s life-size, but clearly they’re picturing Spider-Man to be of normal human height,” you teased and he rolled his eyes.

“Again with the height thing?” he questioned, raising a brow. “It’s not like you’re one to talk, short arse.”

You scanned the room quickly and noticed a handful of people looking your way, some even having the nerve to point. You sighed quietly. “Okay, I think this is actually the last room anyway so come on, I’ve got to get a picture of you with this Spider-Man,” you said, giving him a smile. “And then we’ll go before someone starts a scene.”

“I might as well come out of hiding then since we’re going anyway.” Tom took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair to fix the curls. A few squeals and excited chatter could instantly be heard and you tried your best to ignore it, not wanting to ruin your time together. He stood next to the sculpture and grinned away as you (and fans all around) snapped some photos, laughing softly when he gave a peace sign or pulled the infamous Spider-Man pose, pretending to shoot a web.

“You’re such a poser,” you snorted after he’d finished his mini photoshoot. All Tom could do was laugh before his attention was pulled away by the fans asking for photos and signatures. You even heard someone request he phone their mother. Was it rude to ask them to leave him alone so he could enjoy the rest of his date day with you? Sensing your almost overwhelming need to leave, he caught your eye and then began to say his goodbyes to the small crowd that had built up around him. After a few final waves and a couple of last photographs with some of the younger visitors, he slipped his fingers through yours and left the museum.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t get recognised at all,” you said once you’d set off in the car. Your hand felt cold without his comforting grip. “Although I suppose we can count ourselves lucky it only happened at the end.”

Tom’s grin had yet to leave his face since you’d hurried out of the exhibition and he reached over, placing his hand on your knee. Your skin burned and you craved his touch even more. “I don’t even care. It was really cool! Putting me through your shit singing was more than worth it.”

He talked non-stop the whole drive back to the hotel, speaking animatedly about his favourite props and how much of a Spider-Man fan he’d been as a child. It was heart-warming to know how big of an impact the superhero had on Tom since before he could even speak, and now he was that same character being a huge part of millions of people’s lives.

It was only when Tom opened the door to the room that you remembered the whole double bed situation. As though reading your mind, he grabbed one of the pillows and headed towards the bathroom, but you clutched his arm to stop his movements. “No, don’t be silly, we’ll just share the bed,” you told him and pushed a piece of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “But you better keep your hands to yourself, Holland.”

After insisting you change into your pyjamas in the bathroom, you came out wearing a One Direction concert t-shirt that was nearly a decade old and had more holes in than members of the band, and a pair of Christmas-patterned shorts. You stopped on the spot when you saw Tom. He’d managed to pack some bottoms, but clearly he had no idea what a t-shirt was. The hard muscles on his stomach made your mouth water. You’d seen him topless the first time you met, but this was different… This was more intimate.

“Just so you don’t feel awkward,” Tom said, pulling your attention away from his abs. He gestured towards the bed where he’d laid the spare pillows down the middle as some sort of soft wall. It wasn’t necessary and that’s what made you feel even more touched at the gesture.

You turned off the lights and climbed into bed with him, the wall of pillows somehow making you feel even closer. He shuffled around to try and get comfortable. You lay on your back, stiff and silent. When he’d rolled over for the seventh time, you gave a sigh and turned on your side. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness so you could just about see his silhouette. “Okay, I take it back, you can go and sleep in the bath,” you whispered, reaching over the pillows to push his shoulder.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to sleeping next to a wall.”

“It’s hardly a tower of bricks. Deal with it.” Unable to stop yourself, you give him another push just for good measure. He swiftly grabbed your hand and held your arm out so he could easily tickle your armpit, making you squeal with laughter. “You can’t do that!” you giggled and pulled your arm back, keeping it safe and sound on your side of the wall.

“You invaded my territory!”

“Yeah, to shut you up!”

A squeak of surprise came out when a pillow hit you right in the face. Being the mature adult you were, the only way to react was obviously to hit him back. He laughed and tried to move out of the way when you went to whack him again, though the groan he released gave a clear indication that the target had been hit. With barely enough time to celebrate, he’d pounced. His fingers dug into your sides, tickling you mercilessly, and you laughed loudly, squirming beneath him. You reached out blindly and tried to get him back, to find his weak spot. He yelped and you laughed triumphantly as you went to tickle his ribs again. His hands grabbed yours and pinned them to the bed beside your head. He moved his body on top of yours to keep you from jumping at the first chance you got to tickle him again

Then you stopped.

The only sound breaking the tense silence was your uneven panting. Your chests rose and fell heavily. Your legs had somehow tangled and his hot breath tickled your skin, causing goosebumps to rise all over your body. His grip loosened on your wrists and he swallowed thickly before tentatively leaning down, hand moving to lightly cup your jaw and tilt your head up higher. His lips pressed against yours in a gentle kiss.

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[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

The Pretty Reckless’ Taylor Momsen: “If I’m Going To Be Famous, I Want To Be Famous For The Music That I Make”

Taylor Momsen almost gave up following the deaths of her heroes, but now The Pretty Reckless are back with a new purpose

On the evening of May 17, 2017, Taylor Momsen did her job as usual. Appearing onstage at the Fox Theatre, in Detroit, the then 23-year-old singer with The Pretty Reckless sang nine songs to an audience of more than 5,000 people as special guests to the night’s headliners, Soundgarden. The following morning she woke to the news that Chris Cornell, the singer with the Seattle group, had been found dead in the bathroom of his hotel room at the MGM Grand in the Motor City. He was later ruled to have died by suicide.

“To get the Soundgarden tour was such an exciting moment that we were all living,” Taylor says. “It was such an accomplishment for us to be able to watch them every night, and to be on that tour was so thrilling. It was the highest of highs – we couldn’t get happier and we couldn’t get higher.”

It’s difficult to overstate the extent to which the Seattleites impacted on the life of Taylor Momsen. To her ear, only The Beatles have set higher standards. Speaking from her home on an island off the coast of Maine, the thoughtful and chatty singer declines to divulge her encounters with Soundgarden on a tour that endured for 13 dates. But suffice it to say, its singer’s death hit her hard.

“The right word is to say that I plummeted,” she says. “It crushed me. We cancelled all the touring. I wasn’t in a place to be public because it really devastated me, like I think it did to a lot of people. Everyone he touched was just crushed. I cancelled everything and said, ‘I can’t do this right now, I need time. I can’t go out every night and entertain an audience and pretend I’m super happy and okay.’ I wasn’t okay. So I stopped. We quit tour and went home to try and process what had happened.”

When The Pretty Reckless formed, in 2009, it was a love of Soundgarden that brought together its principal players. Founded by Taylor, guitarist Ben Phillips, and producer Kato Khandwala – the trio that wrote the songs on the group’s debut album, Light Me Up, from 2010 – LPs such as Badmotorfinger and Superunknown made these three near-perfect strangers feel as if they were the best of friends.

So delighted was Kato of The Pretty Reckless’ berth on a tour with Soundgarden that he flew to every one of its spring dates. Less than a year later, on April 25, 2018, Taylor was sitting on her couch in Maine when she received a call informing her that her 47-year-old friend and producer had been killed in a motorcycle accident in Los Angeles. Today the singer describes receiving the news as being like “a nail in my coffin.”

She says that “[it] took me into what I can only describe as an extraordinarily dark downward spiral. I was in a hole that I didn’t know how to get out of, or if I was going to get out of it; what’s more, I had no idea where to even start trying. It was a scary time because I didn’t care any more. I’d given up on everything. I thought, ‘What am I going to do? My musical partner is dead. My musical idol is dead. I don’t care, what’s the point of any of this?’ So I gave up.”

Only, she didn’t. “It took time,” she says, “and it sounds clichéd, but it was music that was the thing that brought me back to life. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t function, I couldn’t leave my house, I couldn’t talk to anyone – I was a mess. And so the only thing that I could turn to was music and that eventually led to me just writing how I was feeling. It was like going back to childhood, really, and writing another diary that was my best friend, the only person I could talk to. And it turned into this record, which essentially I consider to be a rebirth.”

The record to which Taylor refers is the newly finished, fourth album from The Pretty Reckless, Death By Rock And Roll, which had been due for imminent release until the world held its breath in the face of you-know-what. In lieu of an entire LP, fans can at least take comfort in the unveiling of the band’s first single for three years. Released today, the album’s impressive title-track features as its intro the sound of the footsteps of Kato Khandwala.

“We spent over a year recording the album,” says Taylor. “And it’s all in there. There was no hiding from it. It took everything we had to make this record. In fact, it felt like we were making the first album again. That’s the thing we had with Light Me Up, we threw everything we had at that album, too. And we did that again this time.

“It very much feels like a rebirth,” she says.

Taylor Momsen is used to making music in trying circumstances. When The Pretty Reckless gathered themselves to record Light Me Up – which celebrates its 10th birthday this summer – the then-15-year-old singer was better known for playing the role of Jenny Humphrey in the television series Gossip Girl. By day she would film her scenes in New York City, and then by night retreat to the House Of Loud studio in Elmwood Park and Water Music in Hoboken, New Jersey, to record songs during the vampire shift. If she caught three hours’ sleep as the sun bid good morning to the Garden State, she was lucky.

The album hit at the first time of asking, but the singer faced all the predictable problems of a woman in early 21st century rock. She dodged the sour intentions of men working in an industry in the days before the #MeToo movement – “I think like any woman, yes, there were uncomfortable and inappropriate moments,” she says – and ignored the sharks on social media by turning away from her phone with the attitude that “it’s not real – it’s not like someone is actually right in front of you, screaming in your face”. Similarly short shrift was given to those who believed that she was a MAW – ‘Model, Actress, Whatever’ – who had a new musical plaything but nothing to say.

“I felt bad at the beginning that there was no clean slate so people already had a perception of me,” she remembers. “That was the thing that I had to overcome, and in the beginning it was frustrating at times. But the way I overcame it was by not telling [people] over and over again that I was real and that this is who I am. They don’t hear that, they just hear you preaching. Instead, I just did it.”

She came to England and gazed in wonder at the landmarks of rock’n’roll heritage. It felt “like I was suddenly part of the history that I’d been reading about”. She snapped a photograph of the Battersea Power Station, over which Pink Floyd flew a giant inflatable pig for the cover of their Animals album. She saw the crossing outside a famous recording studio in Northwest London, across which The Beatles strode for the cover of their Abbey Road LP. And outside the Notting Hill Arts Centre, on May 12, 2010 she witnessed a crowd queuing tight around the block to see The Pretty Reckless make their debut in the capital.

“That was such an incredible feeling as an artist,” she says, “to see that I’d really connected with people.”

But more than anything, Taylor Momsen grafted. Imbued with a work ethic that saw her begin modelling at two years of age – “That taught me how much work and sacrifice it takes to pursue a career in any of the arts,” she says – she took The Pretty Reckless on the road for months on end without once looking back. Were it not for the small matter of a planetary pandemic, this summer she would be sharing stages with both Guns N’ Roses and Pearl Jam.

“I am an entire workaholic,” she says. “But it’s all music so it doesn’t feel like work. Before I spoke to you I was playing my guitar, and I’ll go back to playing it as soon as we’re finished. That’s the lucky thing about this job – I would be doing it anyway. The line that separates work for pleasure is kind of gone. It’s non-existent.”

Which is just as well. Through no small measure of talent, and a double scoop of application, over the course of three hit albums The Pretty Reckless have managed the enviable feat of prospering in an age of declining music sales. Better yet, this success has been earned with a measure of pizzazz and good old-fashioned Star Quality in the shape of Taylor Momsen. When the planet finally decides to take its finger off the pause button, she’ll be right there waiting and ready, with a smile that says: ‘Nice planet, I’ll take it.’

“If I’m going to be famous, I want to be famous for the music that I make,” she says. “I want be famous for something that I’ve worked really hard to create. I don’t want to be famous for the sake of being famous. I want the songs to be more famous than me. I want people to recognise the song without necessarily knowing that it’s even sung by me. My goal is not to be famous as myself, but to have the songs live on through time.”

[scribeofmorpheus]

Robin’s Girl [1/4]

Pairing: Robin x (OC) Clara | Steve Harrington x Reader

Sequel to: Meet Cute

Chapter Title: Cherry Bomb  | Words: 2k

Note: This takes place post S3. Some spoilers maybe? Highly recommend you listen to the playlist for the aesthetic. Two stories unfold at once. One focusing on Clara x Robin and the other on Steve x MeetCute!Reader

Playlist by Ari ♥

~

Steve watched the clock like a hawk, his leg getting jittery at the fact the seconds weren't ticking faster. When the long hand reached half passed, he chucked his work vest off and vaulted over the counter like some terrible ninja -shelf restaking be damned.

"Keys, keys, keys!" Steve energetically snapped his fingers at Robin who was still behind the video store counter closing up the till for next shift. She struggled to get out of her own work vest, fumbling with the zip as she chucked the keys at him.

"Alright, jeez Harrington." She said slightly annoyed at his nagging. He'd been hopping around like a rabbit on cocaine all day. Suffice to say, Robin was a little exhausted by his newfound energy.

"Come on, come on, come on!" Harrington persisted in hurried words, extending his hand for her.

Robin rolled her eyes as she sat on the counter and spun around. She took his outreached hand and Steve all but pulled her off the counter, sprinting to the car park on fumbling legs.

"Slow down, dingus!" Robin shouted in protest after nearly tripping twice.

Behind them, their boss was fuming, "Hey you still have three minutes on the clock!"

Steve had already backed his shitty replacement car out of the parking lot, knocking over a cardboard video store cut-out, and sped down the road -tires screeching like nails on a chalkboard.

"I swear to god Harrington, if you kill us… I'll be the most annoying ghost you've ever seen!" Robin promised.

Steve laughed as he fished his sunglasses from the glove compartment and jammed a tape into the car radio.

***

You stood by the bus station, two large suitcases parked next to you. You had a heart-shaped lollipop tucked in your cheek. The sun was kept at bay by your pair of cheesy heart-shaped sunglasses you won at a society bash in college. Music playing through your headphones connected to your Walkman, it barely held together thanks to the many cliché stickers taped around it. You were listening to your favourite mixtape. It was a travel mix Steve gave you before you left for college.

The sound of tires screeching a few feet in front of you alerted you of the fact your favourite human was finally here. A big goofy grin swept across your slightly tanned face as you all but jumped up and ran towards him -dropping your walkman and headphones. Steve hopped out of his car and met you halfway, leaving his car door open. Unbeknownst to him, the car started to roll the instant he picked you up in a bone-crushing hug, twirling you around like you weighed nothing. The girl sat in his car panicked for a brief moment before sliding into the driver’s seat and hitting the brakes.

"God damn it, Harrington!" She shouted after him as she put the car in park.

"Hey, gorgeous..." Steve muttered into your ear ignoring the fact he had almost crashed his car without him in it.

"Hey yourself," you cooed as your noses were a hair's breadth away.

"Well," Steve tilted his head to the side causing that stubborn curl you loved to bounce about, "Are you going to kiss me or what?"

You stood on your tippy-toes and nuzzled closer to him, "Abso-freaking-lutely!"

Your lips locked for the first time in ages and by god did it feel just as nerve tingly and electric as you remember. His tongue coaxed a giddy sigh from your throat as you let the feeling of homecoming wash over you.

Robin pressed down on the horn after snatching Steve's second pair of sunglasses from the glove box, "Hey lovebirds, don't we have another stop to make before you eat each other's faces off?"

Steve’s thumb nudged his nose as he took a slight exasperated inhale, "You see what I've had to deal with while you were away?" He said softly.

You giggled, dusting off your walkman as you pulled one suitcase while Steve got the other, "It seems to me Harrington, she's the one keeping you functional." You teased.

"The apple of my eye wounds me!" He protested dramatically. When Steve shooed Robin to the back, he introduced you. "Robin this is Y/N. Y/N, Robin."

Robin rolled her eyes, "And here I thought you were smacking lips with a complete stranger." She retorted sarcastically before beaming a warm smile your way. "It's great to finally meet you. Steve has told me everything about you. None stop. All the time. It drives me crazy."

"Likewise," you winked back.

***

"Thanks for the ride," Clara hollered at the truck driver as she jumped off, duffle bag slung across her shoulder. The truck driver honked twice before re-joining the main road.

Clara looked up at the signpost welcoming her back to Hawkins. She blew a large bubble with her tutti-frutti flavoured gum and it erupted with a satisfying pop noise. "The end of nowhere… Home, sweet home."

Clara trekked along the side of the road, her Docs clomping loudly against the tarmac. The summer heat was bearing down on her in all its glory, so she shrugged off her leather jacket and stuffed it into her duffle bag before taking off her red and blue flannel shirt and tying it around the waistband of her ripped jeans.

Clara fixed the ray bans that rested on the crown of her head back onto her eyes, lowering a purple filter over the world. The blue tips of her hair flying wildly with the wind. She could just make out a shitty car driving down towards her. Her favourite song blaring out the windows as she caught sight of her best friend's head hanging out the window -hair blowing furiously. In the driver's seat, her boyfriend smiled like an idiot and seated in the back seat was another girl. She looked familiar; pretty, big eyes and wearing a mickey mouse shirt. Clara smirked at that.

The car pulled over and her best friend slid out the window, rather than open the door like a damn normal person, and nearly knocked her over in an energetic hug.

"Clara! I've missed you, you bone head!" She said in a high squeak.

"Hey, goofball! I love you from here to the moon, but you're blocking the oxygen to my brain..." Clara dramatically wheezed. "I see you've brought your security blanket with." Clara waved with one hand at Steve. He waved out his window.

"Don’t be jealous, you know you are still my favourite moody security blanket. Steve is just a better cuddler, is all." Y/N smacked her arm playfully. "Come on, let's get you out of this heat and to some frosty beverages!"

"About damn time! My mascara was about to melt off my face!" Clara joked as she walked arm linked in arm with her best friend back to the car.

Clara tossed her duffle bag in the trunk and hopped in beside the new girl.

"Clara," she offered her hand adorned with too many concert bands and cheap rings.

The girl took one look at the name on Clara's band shirt and smiled with recognition, "Robin." She said as she shook her hand.

"I know," Clara said with cheek. "We were in band together. I looked different then. I wore more denim, less leather. My hair was blonde then too."

Robin pulled her mouth to the side in thought until it finally clicked, "Your hair was longer and you always got in trouble for taking over practice with your drum solo's!" She pointed out in recognition.

"And you played the trombone!" Clara said.

"Look at that, honey. I didn't have to introduce the kids to each other!" Steve joked in a motherly tone.

"Mr Perfect Hair! I see you haven't gotten a haircut yet." Clara retorted with spunk as she smacked Steve's chest a little too hard. He let out an 'oof' sound. "So, King Steve, still scooping ice-cream?"

"Ha-ha!" He laughed sarcastically. "You keep being such a smart ass and I won’t be your designated free ride into town anymore."

Clara gave him the bird and Steve returned it. The atmosphere familiar and chipper.

"Onwards Captain, to the milkshake parlour!" Y/N ordered with childish excitement.

***

"Anyone got a quarter?" Clara asked at the booth. Her plate was wiped clean, the only remnant of food was the random splodge of ketchup and amount of salt. She sucked down on her vanilla shake while giving her friends the puppy dog eye look.

Steve removed his arm from around Y/N's shoulders and patted down his pockets then gave her a frown, "Sadly I spent my last bit of change on the photo booth with this silly goose," he chimed, tickling Y/N's sides until she turned red from giggling too much. She squirmed about like a sugar high toddler, shrinking lower into the seat to try and get away from Steve's frisky hands.

Clara and Robin both let out sighs as they rolled their eyes in unison.

Robin tossed a French fry at Steve, "Get a room you two!"

Clara winked at her with approval, stealing two fries in the process.

"Hey, that's theft buddy," Robin tutted as she whacked Clara's hand lightly. "You better be willing to pay for those."

"I'll make it up to you," Clara smirked, her tone much more sonorous than before.

Y/N flickered her eyes to her best friend, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. A wicked smile playing across her face when she noticed Clara's flirting tone. Steve finally let up with his tickle attack and Y/N's giggled died out as she took a slurp of her near finished shake.

Clara clicked her tongue with a bit of cheek, averting her eyes to play things smooth. Robin reached into her shorts and pulled out a row of quarters.

"Here," she offered Clara with reddened cheeks.

"Thanks, babe." She said without thinking twice. Clara waltzed over to the jukebox and queued *Cherry Bomb*.

As the music swelled, she bobbed her head, hair swaying around her face, doing an awkward shimmy dance. Steve bobbed his head slightly as he and Y/N started thumb wrestling.

"If I win Harrington," She said with a serious expression. "We're having a zombie movie marathon!"

"And if I win, we're spending date night holed up on my couch while I babysit Henderson and the rest of those little troopers!" Steve scoffed.

"Sounds like an excuse to make out," Robin remarked to herself as she took a swig of her cherry cola.

Clara reached her hands out by their booth, "Come on you disgustingly sweet muppets, come dance with me!"

Y/N held up one finger from her free hand, "One sec, I gotta win this!" Her tongue stuck out as she tried to focus her efforts on keeping Steve's thumb off hers.

"Killjoys!" Clara boo'd before turning to Robin and hooking two fingers. "Come on, Robin! Let's show these boring wet blankets how to have fun!"

Robin stalled for a moment and then skittishly scooched out of the booth. Clara fearlessly grabbed her hands and shook them about, they looked like two graceless gazelles learning to walk. The room filled with laughs and huffs as other people looked over to the two giddy girls letting loose.

Once the song ended they returned to the booth. Y/N was nursing a half-moon frown, evidence that she lost the thumb war.

"Don't be such a sore loser, goofball." Clara teased.

Y/N pouted even more, until Steve showered her cheek with loud kisses, making her blush all over again.

"So, Steve told me you went on tour with a band?" Robin asked with attentive eyes, her head resting on her laced fingers.

"Mm-Hmmm!" Clara hummed as she hungrily sucked down the last of her milkshake. Y/N noticed how thirsty she still was and slid her milkshake in offering. Clara nodded a thank you and turned back to Robin. "I was a roadie. Played drums on some gigs. I got my first tattoo to commemorate my first big city gig. The lead drummer got food poisoning so I stepped up."

"You got a freaking tattoo without telling me?" Y/N nearly toppled the drinks over when her knee jerked into the table with surprise. "We promised to get our first tattoos together."

Clara shrugged, "It was a heat of the moment thing. I'll still be with you when you get your first one…" she eyed her best friend knowingly. "If you ever get one."

"Let's see it?" Steve urged her.

Clara rolled up her t-shirt sleeve to reveal a tattoo of a smartly inked dandelion.

"Huh," Steve said unimpressed. "I was expecting a skull or one of those barbed wire tattoo's most of the band members’ have."

Clara let out a huff of air, "The name of the club I played in was called the Black Dandelion. It seemed sporting. And not too complicated. Besides, how did you know the band members have those exact tattoos?"

"What?" Steve sounded offended. "I read… occasionally."  

"I can't wait to get out of Hawkins. After everything, seeing a big city would be a breath of fresh air," Robin mused dreamily.

"Hawkins is alright if you're like twelve or a middle-aged suburban housewife, but trust me when I tell you nothing beats playing in a big city. The energy, the colour… the music! You guys would love it!" Clara beamed.

"I know what you mean. The vibe of my campus is just so much more different than anything else around here," Y/N added. "Steve I know you'd just love the energy there, plus we could even get an apartment together, take the subway into town, see concerts--"

Steve shut her up by placing an unexpected kiss on her lips, "Easy there, tiger. You've barely been here a couple of hours. Let's leave the college application discussion for another day." He kept his finger under her chin while her lips stayed agape.

"Fine, you may have thwarted my attempts today, but we will talk about this," she promised.

Clara and Robin ignored them as they talked about their time in band and all the things they had in common.

***

Steve waited for Y/N to return from her house with a small overnight bag. Clara was drumming a tune on her exposed knee while absentmindedly listening to the radio. Robin yawned as she kept her head out the window.

When Y/N returned, she had a large grin on her face. "Okay, my parents think I'm staying over at Clara's!"

"Aren't you two a little too old to be playing the 'I'm staying at a friend’s house when I'm actually sneaking off to spend the night at my boyfriend’s empty house' routine?" Clara said with air quotes.

"No one ever outgrows mischief, Clara." Y/N lectured. "You simply perfect it."

"Let me know when you do!" Clara snorted, making Robin titter as well.

***

Once Clara had been dropped at her house, she unlocked the front door using the secret hide-away key stored under the porch frog. Her parents were out on holiday in Hawaii so she had the whole house pretty much to herself.

After putting on the tea kettle, Clara perused through the bookshelf looking for her high school yearbook. When she found it, she flipped through the pages looking for one person in particular: the beguiling and funny spirited Robin.

"Bingo!" She said in triumph when she spotted her class photo. She giggled at the innocent girl in the photograph with braces and a high ponytail. Clara hoped it wasn't her imagination playing tricks on her because she could have sworn she felt something click between her and Robin. "Robin… cute name."

***

Steve raced to keep up with his bubbly girlfriend as she burst through the front doors of his house.

"Slow down, Y/N!" He panted out after she challenged him to a race to see who could get to his house from the driveway the fasted.

"I win! You lose!" She did a little victory dance. "Now go make that popcorn while I set up the VHS!"

Steve groaned, "Fine, but we're only watching one movie. I haven't seen you in forever and I need my mandatory cuddles."

"If you behave, you'll get cuddles and a little surprise..." she teased flirtatiously.

"Popcorn! Coming up!" He ran to the kitchen with newfound energy.

***

Next Chapter Presents: Rollerskates and Cheap Dates!

If you enjoyed this story don’t be afraid to like, reblog or comment. I don’t bite. Also, taglist is open just send an ask.

 Tags:  @theconscientiouswriter @chims-kookies @electroma89 @thechickvic @gruffle1  @notawarriorjustyet @mochminnie

[wickedlittleoz]

so i know i haven’t been writing a lot lately---who am i kidding i’ve barely been online at all. and i’ve no excuse other than, life’s got me so exhausted all the time that i have no energy to dedicate to the stuff that i actually enjoy. like i did mean to write more stuff to the taking chances series, i wanted to bring you a valentine’s day fic. but that didn’t happen either. so honestly i’d like to apologize and thank everyone who’s stuck around even though my blog has been kinda inactive and messages are queuing up and i’m an undeserving asshole.

that said, this morning i woke up with this whole scene played out in my head. and because i have no idea if/when i’ll ever write something else to go with it, i decided to share it with you as is. mind you, this is the second time i write it because earlier, at work, power went out the moment i was about to hit ‘post’ on the first version and i lost everything. it took me the whole afternoon, but here we are again.

this is sort of post-season 3. don’t read it if you haven’t seen it.

Steve breathes deeply as the medicine spreads through his system, knowing he'll be sleeping easy tonight.

He slowly slips into a state of calm where he feels like he's hanging, suspended above reality, or maybe floating on water. Of course he hasn't been in a pool since Barb, but right now he doesn't worry, doesn't trigger, doesn't shrink away from the pleasant warmth engulfing his body, and instead lets himself enjoy it.

Except that he's not in a pool, he realises. There's no chlorine in his nose, no pungent smell of the the slime that grows on the rocks at the quarry, either. What he smells is salt in the air, what he hears in the crashing of waves and the cries of seagulls, what he feels is the prickle of the sun on his exposed skin. Steve has never been to the beach, but he recognizes this place as if his very cells can remember being made from the same stardust that once formed the sand he's lying on.

With a content sigh, he stretches and rolls into a warm body, opens his eyes to stare at Billy Hargrove's side profile. Billy's arm wraps around his shoulder and Steve's hand nestles itself on his muscular chest. His skin is hot as ever, more as they sunbathe, enough to maybe melt (oh, but what a way to go, Steve thinks). Nothing feels wrong or out of place. He's exactly where he belongs.

"I'm so happy you're back," he murmurs into Billy's skin as if picking back up a conversation they'd stopped minutes ago. "Thought I'd never see you again."

Billy's voice rumbles through his chest like an earthquake under Steve's palm. "Couldn't go another week without seeing you."

As the waves crash on the shore behind them, a wave of fondness crashes into Steve and he smiles into Billy's neck. Pushes his elbow into the sand and hovers over the boy's face, close enough to count the freckles on his cheeks. "Don't let Dustin hear you say that," he jokes, grinning cleverly.

Billy flips them, then, hovering over Steve now. His hair falls like curtains on both sides of his face, tickling Steve's cheeks with the damp ends of his curls; his hands on either sides of Steve's head, planted firmly on the sand. Steve allows himself to stare into the oceans of his eyes, as blue as the one stretching horizontally behind them. Allows his hands to slide up Billy's back and feels the tickle of sand in his palms, but presses in, keeps him close.

"I thought your friends liked me," he says it as a joke, but Steve can see through it. Can see the fear of being rejected after trying so hard to win their trust, to show them he's changed and he's better. Especially Max. Steve remembers how Billy spent two months driving around town with an ugly dent on the Camaro's right side, from an encounter with a drunk Neil Hargrove sporting a baseball bat, only to save money to buy her a bike.

"That's the problem," he says, softly now, and the tips of their noses bump when he pulls Billy closer. "They like you too much now. You're in the party."

Billy rolls his eyes dramatically and Steve has to bite his lips to keep from laughing. It's endearing, all of him is. "Look what you've done, pretty boy, I'm a nerd now," he complains, but there's no bite in his tone.

"How is it my fault?" Something akin to anxiety starts to break through the calm that had protected him, but it's the kind that makes him shiver as his eyes lock on Billy's.

"You're the one who kept offering to drive them to the arcade, then teach them to drive, then--"

Billy stops him, seeing that Steve is only teasing. "Yeah, but I only did it because I love you so much."

Silence stretches between them, even the waves seem to have calmed down some. Steve can't help the smile the spreads on his face, so wide it literally hurts, and even close as they are he can see the moment when Billy realises what he said, can see the blush that taints his cheeks before he rolls back onto the sand.

Steve's chuckling now when he turns to Billy, holds his chin and makes sure he looks into his eyes. "I love you, too, you buffoon," he says, affection dripping from his words like honey, and leans into Billy's space. His lips are warm and sweet, and again he feels like he's lost his footing, like he's hanging, existing in the tiny space between two pages of a fictional book, and the only thing that's real and palpable is Billy.

Again, Steve thinks, what a way to go.

He pulls away suddenly and it takes Steve a while to ground himself. "I have to go," Billy says, looking over his shoulder at the ocean. Dark clouds are starting to form on the horizon, the water itself has gotten darker. So have Billy's eyes, he notices when the boy turns back to him. The atmosphere of calm and security that had surrounded Steve until then is gone now, shaken by the oncoming storm.

"But you just got here," he tries to say, but the wind is howling and the waves are crashing ferociously now. When Billy pulls himself up, Steve makes to follow, but the boy holds his shoulders, pecks his lips for a fraction of a second and pushes him back into the sand.

"You have to do me a favor," Billy says and Steve only nods, too dizzy to say anything. He looks to Steve's left and he follows. Running towards them, laughing and clutching onto a surfboard, is Max. He hadn't seen her there before, wonders why she hadn't made her presence known earlier. She shouldn't be left unwatched in the ocean, should she?

"Take care of Max for me," Billy's voice brings him back. He's walking backwards to the ocean now. The clouds have reached the shore and it's become dark enough that he starts to disappear before Steve has the time to process that he's actually leaving. He realises that the electricity he felt before, the anxiety, was expectancy for this storm. Not the one that brings them together, but the one that separates them instead.

"Say you'll take care of Max!" Billy insists and again Steve can only nod. It's all he waits for; he turns around and disappears into the storm, and no matter how loud and how hard Steve calls for him, sand and salt and pain tearing into his vocal chords, Billy doesn't come back.

Steve wakes up with a start.

Outside, a storm has broken; he'd left the window open and now both him and the bed are completely soaked. But the wetness in his eyes isn't rainwater.

Billy's voice is still echoing in his head.

Pretty boy. I love you. I have to go.

Take care of Max.

He jumps to his feet and goes for the walkie-talkie Dustin gave him ages ago, fusses with the thing until he finds the right frequency, then radios Max.

[gaudeixcc]

Peloton news. G20 – the Pyrenees

A much more reasonable start to this year’s tour. No crazy-early alarm clocks, just a nice trip to the airport with only hand-luggage and a gently grumbling Macca.

Our favourite plane man had unbeknownst to me fired a very early warning shot regarding our mode of transfer on arrival in France.

At 5.50am, whilst shooting the breeze on my couch, McEvoy had enquired as to whom I’d booked the hire car with. The one which would take us to resort.

‘I dunno….it’s on the App’ sayeth I.

I had a quick look. Whoever the third party was, they had a stunning 6.5 out of 10 rating. Not quite M&S levels of service, granted, but still it’s on a trusted App, we are only using it to transfer, I’ve got insurance, it’s France for fucks sake. It’ll be quiet and I’m a capable and experienced driver…. Well, we’ll come back to that last bit shortly.

We get to Gatwick with ColMac and Drip in tow and await the arrival of HRH.

The first of many 2019 tour errors soon became massively apparent.

We’ve got two gingers on the trip. Fuck. How on earth did that get through the vetting process? I sent my beloved co-chair a text

‘JT, I’m at LGW. We’ve got problems…..’

Before too long Drip and HRH are bonded in conversation which carried over onto the flight. By the time we were at 30,000 feet they were each answering the others questions before they had even been asked. It was like listening to 2 people taking it in turn to read out just the answers on a bunch of Trivial pursuit cards.

Macca whispered to me whilst transfixed by this sight. ‘What’s happening over there?’

‘They are becoming one Macca, they are becoming one’.

By the time we had landed things had progressed further. They were now communicating with eyes closed with just index fingers lightly touching. Silence. Occasionally dripping would meow.

When we got to Toulouse we started the hunt for the hire car counter. The twin gingers (Twinge?) followed gently behind in a glowing orange aura.

Whilst all this was going on, I’d failed to notice that Macca had entered a worrying (and just about controlled) mental meltdown.

‘Where’s the hire car counter…? It’s off-site isn’t it… remote.. we’ll need to get a bus… not even in the terminal…what were they called again?’ he blurted out in staccato perfection.

‘er…. Gold cars’… sounded good to me. What could go wrong when you’ve got Gold in your company name?

Within minutes we were at the Gold counter waiting to be served.

Macca had moved to DefCon level ‘Blind-Frenzy’.

He’d got straight onto his iPhone and had a full list of every negative customer review for Gold cars. I’m in the queue and he’s jabbing the phone at me and saying ‘look’ in a high-pitched squeal, ‘Maureen from Romford….. she’s 97… and this is how they treat our British citizens..!!’

‘They’re going to sell us extra insurance and then steal all our money’.

At this point I was starting to lose my legendary zen-like calm.

Macca connected with his iPhone again and dialled up a quote for a Hertz rental car equivalent.

‘Look, we could have had this one’… and with that, he was gone. Off to the Hertz counter.

I queued quietly on my own. Drip had temporarily disconnected from the Twinge umbilical cord and was trying to locate Macca to gently nudge him toward the exit.

Right, I thought… time to get this car booked and get the hell out of dodge.

My turn came and I presented myself at the counter with my usual finesse. My mouth opened to speak and just as I was about to wish the nice lady a very good morning Macca arrived on my shoulder, phone gripped in fist and launches a barked question at the unsuspecting clerk.

‘WHY DOES YOUR COMPANY HAVE SO MANY BAD REVIEWS?’

‘WHAT DID YOU DO TO MAREEN!?’

Macca was metaphorically wrestled to the ground by airport security and tied to the nearest pillar using clingfilm and then gently tasered… (this was how my mind was dealing with the situation at any rate).

The rest of the mini-peloton looked onward in apathetic bemusement. None of them gave a flying fuck about the arrangements on the basis that if it all went wrong, I’d be the one getting all the shit and would subsequently have to get us out of the hole I’d dug.

3 pairs of peloton eyes would say ‘your name on the form, your fucking problem sunshine’.

Anyhoo… after the drama of the hire car counter (which went perfectly smoothly), we picked up the car (which went perfectly smoothly), and got ourselves in and ready to go (smooth… perfectly).

I then started to drive. Dear fucking god where the hell has my driving ability gone?

I tried to change gear twice with the door handle and got completely befuddled with the clutch before a near impalement with a coach at the very first roundabout.

There was a flurry of uncensored ginger telepathic communication in the back seat which I am sure ended with Drip saying to HRH ‘if he kills us now, I want you to know I love you’.

At one point early on in the journey, I drifted the car toward the right (something I’d done subconsciously, I suspect in an attempt to place my body in the middle of the road).

I had started to edge us toward an 18-wheeler in the next lane. I could see HRH in the rear-view mirror edging in to the middle of the car whilst breathlessly mouthing ‘watch out’.

White-knuckled hands gripped the wheel as I steadied myself. Drip, after further telepathic liaison with HRH suggested we listen to some music. No sooner thought than done, HRH racked up some impressive tune-age on the multi-media and we settled in to our journey to the Pyrenees.

Now this particular hire car was blessed with a behemoth-like engine of 1.0 litres of petrol frugality. Barely enough power to progress much past a standstill. With 70 stone of Peloton meat and gravy aboard, the thing struggled. The useless fucking clutch had zero feel and as the engine generated the mechanical momentum of a spinning 5p piece, so stalling was a regular occurrence.

4 of the 5 car inhabitants saw stalling not as a consequence of a shit car and 5 fat blokes, but more as an aching lack of talent on my part.

Worst was yet to come.

We entered resort and got to within 25 yards of destination when a tricky hill-start was required. Handbrake on, gentle rise of revs, I’ve got this. I’ve got this…..I didn’t have this.

I was about as far from having this as you can get whilst remaining in the same country.

The engine squealed, the clutch slipped, massively. NWA was turned down on Spotify and all we were left with was the stench of burning clutch.

I had a sinking feeling that I’d properly fucked the hire car.

Anyway, announcing your arrival in a plume of melted friction plates is how we rolled in team Gold car.

Greetings aside, quick sit down and then to the job of bicycling.

And so we return to the annual highlights list. A snap-shot of the rides and the riding from this year’s Grande Tour. But before we get to that, some stats.

The Rides

• Day 1. Lac d’estainge. Shortest ride at 32k but 3rd for overall ride gradient. • Day 2. Col des Tentes. A punchy 96k but a bit bleak on arrival at top • Day 3. Tourmalet. 101k. Great ending with really steep gradient for the last few hundred meters. You can see why it’s used on the tour so often. Fairly bleak riding through the town halfway up. Unrelenting 2 hours of climbing at over 8%. Brutal. Sensational ride home though through some beautiful countryside though • Day 4. Col d’Aubisque via Col du Soulor. Probably the ride of the tour in terms of utterly breath-taking scenery. Beautifully ribboned and freshly tarmacked road on the ascent, which I spent all my time on just thinking about the future descent. And then a jaw-dropping ride along a precipitous drop all the way to the top of Aubisque. A hard slog. Particularly on Soulor when a mid-teens ramp halfway up punches you right in the kidneys and jabs you in the eye for good measure. 2nd for overall ride gradient with 2.62% average for the total ride. Ouch • Day 5. Hautacam. Short out and back. 38k. God, that was one punchy climb. Kilometers click past and are either 8,9 or 10%. Felt unending. Overall ride average gradient of 3.1% made this the most climbiest rider per K we did.

The experience and the stories

• Good accommodation at the Pyrenees cycling lodge. Although Mark, our host, was somewhat perturbed to find Twinge v1.0 curled up and asleep at the foot of the front door on day 1. Twinge v2.0 preferred the comfort of the nest • Formal police notices issued for a range of offences including; the leaving of new tour top on the back of the chair overnight….shocking. The public dissing of one of the team whilst he was out on the hill. Police notice issued following a ‘whistleblower’ incident. • Yellow cap went to HRH on his maiden tour, but he was run very close by the impeccably dressed ColMac who, in my view, nailed the best single day performance with his well-judged blue accents matching the tour top perfectly. There was no suggestion of Twinge vote irregularities. Well, none were verbalised at any rate • JT won orange on the fact that he pulled his thumb out of his arse a couple of weeks before tour and did 2 or 3 turbo sessions. Everyone agreed that this sullied the good name of the Orange cap and that perhaps we should remember last year’s benchmark winner when awarding in the future. General shock and disappointment all round. At least one person cried. • The group as a whole consumed 18 complimentary fun-sized Mars each and every day. • I accounted for 17 of the above • Perfect weather • I’m not saying that sharing a room with Macca is like drawing the sleep equivalent of the short straw…….. this year’s tour saw ear-plugs land. At last we can now embrace our favourite  flyer like a long-lost brother..snore onward little one, snore onward • Biggest tour disappointment was the e-bike not running out of juice. At least 8 people prayed daily for this to come to pass • I only fell asleep twice this year at the various lunch stops… once in a deck chair next to ColMac whilst holding a pint (which I subsequently spilled on myself)…oddly enough, this incident went completely unobserved. Second time was at the top of Aubisque and lasted a nano-second. Not only was this observed but it was also filmed. Cat-like reflexes of the Pittock

….and so much more besides.

G19, a Grande Tour and huge success. My thanks go to JT for wrangling the accommodation with usual Teutonic efficiency and a huge shout out to Damo for driving all the bikes over there, complaining decidedly little and pandering to many a disorganised cyclist.

However in drawing to a close this year, I’d like to highlight 2 particular tour performances.

Firstly Dripping. The lad has had most of the bones in his body removed and replaced with man-made replicas. He has the back of a 90-year old and the combination of the 2 have meant that any sort of reasonable training regime was nigh-on impossible. He wasn’t ready to perform. At times he could barely walk straight let alone ride. To top it all off he’d had an epidural to release the muscles in his lower back, an injection which effectively puts your muscles to sleep, a consequence of which must undoubtedly seep into the legs one way or another.

Early on Tourmalet, and I mean really early, first 15 mins I reckon, I passed Dripping who was panting and out of the saddle, wrestling his bike reluctantly up an unrelenting climb.

It took me 2 hours. Drip spent an hour on top of that defeating his foe. 3 hours of climbing at over 8% in that condition. I don’t think there was anyone present on this tour who would have had the mental strength to achieve what Dripping achieved. I would have thrown my bike off a cliff having doused it in petrol and set fire to it long before the summit. Amesy wouldn’t have even boarded the plane. Clemo wouldn’t have left the bower.

As pink cap performances go, Dripping knocked it out of the park with gritted determination and practically zero complaining (apart from when our host effectively called him a vagrant for dossing in the hall).

The biggest problem Dripping now faces is going to be awarding the cap next year. He has shocking form in this particular decision-making department. Last time he did the honours he overlooked Damo’s stellar tour and gave it to James, who had pulled his thumb out of his arse and had done 2 or 3 turbo sessions. I swear to god I think I’ve seen JT do the old Obi Wan Kanobi Jedi mind tricks on awards night more than once…’there’s nothing to see here… move along’

In a bold future prediction, the G20 pink cap odds are currently, Damo 3/1 (patience and service of Drip’s woefully cleaned bike), JT 2/1 (Jedi), HRH evens (blood is blood).

Before we finish, time to look at things through a slightly different lens.

A coupla months back, I accompanied JT and his chum Neil (inventor of the petrol engine) on a wee trip to Austria. This was prior to JT putting in his incredible 2-3 turbo sessions I might add.  

As the wee-man and and I snuffled and puffed our way up Großglockner we both discussed the possibility of e-bikes on future tours. We saw families of all ages out on bike, often with the older generation right in the mix on their leccy MTB’s.

We loved being out on the bike but could feel the pain of the combination of hurt from lack of preparation, weight and age.

In a universe which sees entropy rule, moving order and structure slowly but inevitably into chaos, time is our enemy. We can fight and push but this ride is one-way only. It’s a big step to make decisions to tackle a harder path just to be able to enjoy the journey, but by chosing to go on tour with an e-bike this year, this is the path Moley chose. And he bloody loved every second of G20. Always smiling. Riding every mile. The e-bike enabled him to continue and properly enjoy the love of cycling in the big country with the boys.

He took a lot of shit for that decision. And indeed, can rightly expect to continue to do so. In fact, we are all still praying the fucker will run out of juice one day! But taking the piss is one thing, I actually think more than one of us looked negatively on the decision to do these rides on an e-bike. Almost as if it were cheating.

Now Moley may have had some assistance enjoying the trip, but he still had to put a shift in. And what else was he to do..? Not go, because he didn’t want to suffer and at some point, or even worse, fail over the 5 days?

Moley is the first person to take an e-bike on tour.

He will not be the last.

I want to ride as long as possible on a normal bike, but fuck me I’ll be e-biking it all the way if it’s a choice between doing or not doing.

Dripping aced pink on G19 with grit and utter determination.

Internally he said ‘fuck this, I’m going no matter what’.

Moley knew he would get a lot of stick for the e-bike choice.

Internally he said ‘fuck this, I’m going no matter what’.

That’s the spirit fellas.

G20, the summit, beckons. Majorca. The weekend of 25th April is looking likely. Gentlemen, clear your diaries. Gaudeix press release and invite to follow shortly.

Do 2 or 3 turbo sessions and a cap is more or less guaranteed.

Ride safely my lil fuckerinos….

Hoppo

[spyder-m]

Shumako Week, Day Five: Off the Rails

@shumakoweek​ Day Five: Nerves

AO3

Summary: It's their first date at Dome Town. Makoto can't help but feel a little bit out of her depth. 

A/N: Was at a Black Queen concert on Friday night and have fallen a bit behind. Had an awesome time, though, so it was worth it. I'm not entirely happy with how this come out, but I guess I can always come back to it later. Should hopefully have my submission for Day 6 up in the next few hours also. 

.

Makoto wrung the Dome Town pamphlet between her hands, the pages already worn and crinkled. She concentrated on the sound of the paper crumbling and unfurling, hoping it would drown out the flashing, dissonant cries of speeding roller-coasters and their passengers.

Normally, she would have taken the time to diligently study such a text, wanting to carefully plan out the best use of their time for the day. After Eiko had claimed she would flunk a test on love, she wanted to ensure she was prepared for her first date.

Unfortunately, today, her mind was elsewhere.

This was ridiculous.

Makoto didn't get nervous.

While most her age were rattled simply taking exams, Makoto routinely studied and took pop quizzes always making sure she was fully prepared. Public speaking was dreaded by the majority, often a fear thought of as worse than death. Yet, as Shujin's Council President, she made announcements and MC'd events in front of her entire student body. The practice was routine to her.

Alongside her friends, she had fought down vicious manifestations of humanities darkest desires. Any fear she’d initially felt at the hands of Kaneshiro and her first foray into the Metaverse, melted away into anger as he threatened her sister, and she awoke Johanna.  

So, how could something as simple as spending time being alone with another person, a prospect most wouldn’t blink an eye at, possibly make her feel so nervous?

Even if this was unfamiliar territory to her, there was simply no reason for it.

She hadn't been bothered when they'd gone to the movies together, or during their trip to the arcade. They had even spent the past few weeks posing as boyfriend and girlfriend, so Makoto already had several "dates" under her belt. This should have been a cinch.

She supposed it was the night Ren confessed to her in Crossroads that everything changed.

"Hey!"

Makoto jumped at the approaching voice, as Ren jogged up from behind her, his hand raised.

Somehow, he looked particularly, effortlessly handsome today. His button-up shirt hung on his lean frame, hair in its usual tousled state. Though she knew he didn't actually require corrective lenses, Makoto was glad that Ren wore glasses. They really brought out his eyes.

"O-oh, Ren." She greeted. "It's good to see you."

"You too. Shall we go?"

"Y- yes. Let's."

Throngs of people ambled through the amusement park queuing for rides, stopping at stands to buy snacks.

It was difficult for Makoto to disguise her disappointment. For all her fixation on picking the perfect spot for their date, she had managed to overlook an obvious issue. Dome Town would of course be busy on a weekend.

Brushing up against strangers, trying to manoeuvre their way through the crowd. Folding in on themselves trying to occupy as little space as possible. It wasn’t exactly the most romantic environment.

The open air, at least, offered a slightly less claustrophobic atmosphere.

Still, if Ren had been at all phased, he did well to hide it. Even insisting on holding her hand as he navigated through the crowd; not wanting to get separated. While she appreciated the gesture, Makoto was conscious of the thin sheen of sweat coating her palms.

It was still Summer. Perhaps she could chalk it up to the heat.

Lines trailed across large sections of the park, leaving a significant wait for any of the main attractions. While Ren seemed to be content waiting in silence, Makoto worried that perhaps it might be boring.

She fidgeted, trying to think of interesting topic for conversation. But the usual ice-breakers didn’t hold much weight. They were already friends and spent a lot of time together, be it at school or as part of their group. There wasn't much she could ask about that she didn't already know.

So, they remained in silence, Makoto stealing a glance in his direction every so often. Her lips would part, a word half-forming occasionally, but nothing of note ever surfaced.

She hoped that maybe she could blame the uncomfortable churning in her stomach on the ride they were about to get on.  

.

For Makoto, the rush of blood brought on by the rollercoaster shocked wasn't as exhilarating as riding Johanna, or as enjoyable. There was too much out of her control and it did little to quell the sinking feeling in her chest.

Perhaps that was what made her so anxious.

Studying was easy if you had the discipline. The necessary tools were usually given to you in advance, you merely had to learn them. Fighting shadows didn't unnerve her. She was confident in her skills and could rely upon her teammates. Granted, some of their stronger foes had been a different story.

But this... This was different.

With the ride over, the couple took a moment collect themselves. Finding an empty bench in the shade, Makoto sat down, happy to have a stable surface to rest against.

Ren slumped beside her, his legs still quivering slightly.

"Hey, you holding up okay?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, Ren."

"It's just... You've been pretty quiet. Which I know might seem rich, coming from me."

She tried to smile at his quip, but it felt awkward. His attempt to lighten the mood only drawing attention to the tension in the air.

She could still sense his eyes boring into her, studying, as if relying on his Third Eye to unveil something hidden.

Yet, if he noticed anything, he didn’t pressure her.

"Hey, I think I'm going to get some pancakes. You want any?"

Makoto nodded. It wasn't normally the kind of treat she'd indulge in, being one to watch her nutritional intake. But Ren had offered, and the time he'd spend queuing for the vendor seemed like an opportune time for Makoto to gather her thoughts.

.

Ren strolled alongside her at a leisurely place, hands in his pockets. It was later in the day, and the atmosphere of the park was beginning to settle. Many of the families had grown tired and returned home.

The sun had passed over them, a blip on the horizon, a cool breeze rolling through.

The ambiance was honestly quite relaxing.

It seemed like an opportune moment for Makoto. The kind of romantic setting she'd only read about or seen portrayed in cheesy, blockbuster movies.

It could be her chance to drop a hint about forgetting to bring a jacket, to move closer towards Ren and bask in the warmth of his body.

The kind of thing that couples did.

Yet for as often as the thought arose, she would brush it off. With how closely they had moved against one another amidst the earlier crowd, to bridge the gap between them now should have been simple. Yet each time she would linger a moment too long.

Pace slowing, Makoto’s eyes carried over Ren, taking in his relaxed posture.

Grasping deep within herself, Makoto harnessed the words she felt could best express every stab of hesitance, frustration and unease she felt.

"How can you be so calm about this?"

Ren stopped at the sound of her voice reverberating from behind him. Confused, he glanced over his shoulder, conscious that she had stopped at some point.

"About what?"

"Well," Makoto gestured between the two of them, unsure of how to articulate herself. "This."

"Well... I- I like being with you."

The words trickled from his throat so easily, a part of Makoto suspecting that Ren knew how on edge she felt and was deliberately trying to rattle her. The shock struck her more abruptly than any dip on the rollercoaster's track, enough to distract her from the flutter of delight those words evoked in her.

"Now you're just teasing me." She muttered.

"No, really!" Ren protested, perhaps too loudly, reminded of the time he'd upset her with a light-hearted but perhaps poorly timed robot impression. He cringed as some passersby glanced in their direction before lowering his voice.

"Think about how little time we get to spend together without having to worry about infiltration strategies, or Mementos Requests... That's not even taking into account your Student Council duties, or prepping for entrance exams."

His voice was earnest as he continued, soft and intimate.

"You deserve a little time to relax, Makoto. If being here makes you uncomfortable, we can go somewhere else. I don't mind. I'll do whatever makes you happy, Makoto.

It was a sentiment that she shared, wanting nothing more than to make Ren happy. She wanted everything to work out and for this day to be memorable. Yet, somehow where the idea brought her tension, Ren found contentment.  

If she were to worry too much, the moment would pass before she had the chance to savour it. They couldn't become memories if she didn't get to experience them the first time around.

"Well, when you put it like that."

"Trust me, this is easy. Just have fun."

His arm slipped around her, the proximity and warmth of his body a comfort. Smiling, Makoto moved closer into this embrace, suddenly finding the space less daunting.

"Hey, how about we go on the Ferris Wheel? I feel like I've had enough rollercoasters for today."

"You read my mind."

With the sun setting, it would make for perfect ending to their date. A memory they could both cherish.

It was true, there were a lot of things out of her control.

But sometimes the stars would align perfectly.

[imfreefallinall]

Fake Friends (Shawn Mendes AU)

Fluff!Shawn x Angst!Reader

3,1k words on struggling and feeling bad. I have loved writing this piece because I needed to share this with someone. The story I told in this imagine is basically what’s happening to me during these days and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who has ever felt this way. the second part is my favourite because it is what I hope will happen in the future, once I’ll move to another city to study at university and once I’ll meet new people. To everyone else experiencing this kind of situation, know that there’s someone that for sure cares about you. I have learned to “smooth the sharp edges of my personality” and now I know that I am a good friend to those who look through the images I give of myself and those who truly appreciate me. You can always DM me, anyway. I’m here for anyone of you.

Please, enjoy and know that feedback is always appreciated. Love ya.

B

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(Shawn’s POV)

We were in Y/N’s hometown for a few days to celebrate her birthday and carnival. I was chatting with her mum, sitting in the kitchen with a blue mug in my hands filled with hot peach tea. Y/N’s favourite. I was damn worried: it was raining so hard outside and she was probably riding her scooter to come back home.

“She knows how to drive in the rain, Shawn, don’t worry. She went to school every day with her scooter for four years during high school. She’ll be soaked, but fine”  Laura told me.

“Yeah, sure. She’s a tough girl anyway. Can I just...I don’t know, prepare some blankets and warm clothes for her?”  I asked looking at the woman sitting in front of me

“Of course, you know where her room is. I’ll prepare some more tea” she stood up and poured some water into the glass teapot while I sipped all of the warm liquid from my cup. I washed it quickly and went to Y/N’s room to grab her favourite pair of sweatpants, clean underwear and a long sleeve blue shirt. I put them all on a radiator near the bathtub with a blue, soft blanket and my Crossfit black sweatshirt. While I waited for her, I sat on the couch with her dad and brother to watch some Italian football match.

I was chatting with Y/N’s brother when we heard the sound of the garage’s gate closing. I immediately went to the door and hold it open, cold air and rain smell hitting my face. As soon as I saw her climbing the stairs I knew something was off, but I thought it was just a mood due to being wet.

“Ehi, babygirl. I prepared some warm clothes for you” I said sweetly, relieved to know she was home safe. She lifted her face from the coat’s zip she was opening and I saw them. Puffy, red eyes and tear rolling down her red cheeks.

“Oh, love. I got you, come here, c’mon” I sighed, taking off her damp raincoat and helmet, lifting her up to take her to the bathroom. Her legs wrapped around my waist, tears running down my neck after she buried her face there. I closed the door behind me, starting to silently take off her cold jumper and jeans. Her sobs getting louder as soon as I took her face in my warm hands.

“ Y/N, baby, what’s up? Did you fall?” I whispered slowly, wiping her tears away with soft strokes of my thumbs on her damaged skin.

“What’s wrong with me?” She cried louder, her whole body shivering. I took off my t-shirt and jumper, putting them on her small body and holding her close to me. I knew she wasn’t going to shower unless she first spilt out what was upsetting her.

“Nothing’s wrong, honey. Would you like to tell me what’s going on?” I asked softly again, sitting on the bathroom floor with her on my lap. I wrapped her in the warm cover and loosed her hair from the messy bun she tied them in to keep them dry.

“You know I went to school to collect that certificate I need to put in my CV for the master” she said, tears stopped leaving her light blue eyes but small sobs were still coming from her throat. I nodded, bubbling a small “yea” and stroking her hair with my nails to try to relax her.

“When I was queuing I saw Lucie, my old classmate. I talked to you about her, do you remember?”

“The one that was a bitch to you who faked being your friend for years just to get rides and homework from you?” annoyance coming in my voice. She nodded again, sobs interrupting her story. I patiently waited for her to start again, but someone knocked on the door.

“ Y/N, what’s wrong?” her mum asked, “can I come in?”

“Yeah, mum” she murmured, sniffing up. Her mum sat down near me, taking the girl from my arms into hers. I watched silently.

“Before Shawn and I arrived, I texted all of my high school's friends to organize a dinner together since we were all in town and we hadn’t seen each other in years. I thought it would have been fun, stupid me”

“Baby, don’t-” I started

“I’ve been stupid. They all told me they couldn’t, being too busy with family, study and work. But as soon as she saw me, Lucie asked why I didn’t attend yesterday night’s classmates' reunion. She said I should have taken my hot looking boyfriend with me, that they all wanted to know you. That she didn’t know I was here, bitch, of course you knew because I wrote you two months ago” she cried again, her mum holding her a little stronger.

“I felt like my sixteen years old self again and it was horrible. All of those nights I spent crying because I thought I was wrong, I wasn’t worth being in the group, that my personality was too bitchy and that I needed to change. They all met and no one thought about me, again. Why? Am I such a bad friend?” she asked still shaking.

“ Y/N, listen to me. We talked about this so many times in the past years. It’s not about you, not at all. You are such a strong woman. You are loyal, caring and always near your friends as much you can. You’d split yourself in two just to be sure to help everyone and I am so proud of the person you’ve become. All those high school years, they made you stronger and aware of how you should have smoothed your personality’s sharp edges. And you did and now you have your friends in London and you have Shawn. We all love you and we all accept you for who you are because you’re wondeful like this” her mom sweet talked to her but her voice was firm and serious. That made Y/N calm down a little. I wondered how was it like when Y/N was just sixteen and struggled with all of this being just a teenager. Being set aside from who was supposed to be your friend must have been so hard to take. I knew she was smarter than all of other girl’s of her age because she grew up with her older brother’s friends around the house. I knew she was able to discuss serious topics with her parent’s friends at dinner without sounding immature. I knew she had a special bond with her English teacher because she was just ten steps forward everyone else and she could read between the lines what another person was telling her in another language that wasn’t her own. I knew that people used to make her feel different and not special. That she was, she is. She’s special.

“Mum, I don’t have friends that really love me, I don’t. I just have you and dad and Y/b/n. Even Shawn is gonna get tired of me one day and I won’t blame him for it. He’ll leave me, mom. And I’ll be all by myself again” she whispered. She was so caught up in her past self. It sounded like she was referring to me like her high school crush and not her lover. My eyes went wider as soon as I heard those words leave her cracked lips.

“ Y/N I’m here, I won’t leave you. I love you, I love you so much” I said, almost heartbroken. I had never realized she was feeling that way about our relationship. I thought she knew how much I was a fool for her. I lifted her from her mum’s lap and, without caring about her whole family looking at us, I revealed her all of those feelings I tried to show her but back then, I guessed she just needed to hear them.

“You are the woman of my life and I’m not joking here. I know I am five years older but, baby, trust me you’re way more mature than I am. You know what to say and how to say it when I need comfort. You are my home, baby. I always feel safe when I am with you and you’re the only one who makes me feel vulnerable and strong at the same time. You’re funny and so smart and, shit, sometimes I don’t even understand your jokes because they are too complicated to me to understand because I’m a dumbass who didn't’ finish high school properly while you studied your ass off to get that scholarship you wanted. You keep amazing me every day with your strength and your passion. I feel so blessed when I get to see you fall apart and then stand up again because it is so empowering to see you standing so high on your feet. You look like a damn queen ready to lead her army to victory. I love when you mess up everything and get back to work. Baby, do you remember that day you backed five cakes in the same afternoon because you weren’t satisfied with the result? We ate your chocolate cake at three in the morning and I felt so proud because you were dead tired but you managed to finish that damned cake anyway because you wanted to. And you do have friends who love you, who would drive highways and byways for you if you just asked them to. I know that for you it is difficult because those stupid children of your classmates made you think you're not worth being helped and considered by your friends but, honey, you are. You are the only person that I know that deserves all the love and the help and the support that you would have received if you allowed people to give it to you. Those people, they were wrong, baby, they are wrong. And they didn’t call you to go to that stupid dinner because they knew you would have outshined them because you are actually accomplishing the life you want and deserve, because you have already finished uni and you have already worked for important companies while they remained here to work in some shitty societies because they didn’t listen to you when you told them to study together and to look for uni abroad together. They are jealous because you are the smartest. And even the most gorgeous because, baby yes, you had quite a big nose that I know you hated and also your teeth weren’t perfect but your mind was so complex and intriguing and all those girls were scared of that and they left you. Well, let me tell you, I will always be proud of feeling dumb because I don't understand your dry humour. I will always feel amazed by your speeches even if I don’t understand what are you saying about that goddamn painting from Brunelleschi you love. And I’m sure that your friends, our friends, will always be proud of you when you will accomplish something new you fought for because you’d feel the same way about them if roles were reversed. This is what true friendship is about. And you know that in that horrible environment I work in, the showbiz, you taught me how to recognize true friends and you taught me how to trust people again. I am so grateful to have you in my life, Y/N. And from now on I will tell you every day, okay? I won’t leave you, even if you wanted to” I finished speaking almost out of breath. My chest felt lighter because I was sure she knew what I really felt for the woman standing in my arms. She looked me deeply in the eyes and a small smile broke through her tired face.

“I love you, Shawn. Also you, mum and dad. And you, dumbass” She said relieved, cuddling on me.

“Shawn is right, little pumpkin. You are an amazing woman and no one has the right to make you feel like you’re not. Not even yourself, okay?” her brother patted her shoulder.

“We are so proud of you. Also amazed” her dad added caressing her wet hair. She smiled and closed her eyes.

“Now, I’m going to prepare you a hot cup of peach tea again while you take a hot bath. Shawn?” her mum looked at me and I nodded.

“I got her, I’ll take care of her” and I meant forever.

In fact, I sweet talked to her the whole time while she was bathing, humming her favourite songs in her ear, sitting out of the white tub and holding her now soft hands. While she was drying up and dressing, I left her in the bathroom and called all of our friends, wanting to organize something special that would have made her feel appreciated. I caressed and touched her softly for the whole evening, glad to see her smile again, even if it wasn’t that bright yet. That night I loved on her so deep, kissing every sweet spot of her body and whispering loving words in her ear and on her skin. I left love bites in places that only us could appreciate to remind her of the love that was consuming me in that moment. I hold her close to my chest for the whole night, our legs intertwined and her blonde hair looking like a halo scattered on my chest while I played lazily with them. I watched her sleep, telling her about the future I saw when I looked in her eyes. I hoped my words could make her dream rosy dreams.

3 days later, Y/N’s birthday

(Y/N’s POV)

After the episode of three days ago, Shawn made sure to always touch me. Our fingers intertwined or his arm around my shoulders or waist, it really didn’t matter, but his skin on mine felt so good. What happened on the bathroom floor fortified our special bond. I felt like now I was appreciated fully from my lover and it was the best feeling ever.

In the morning, he woke me up very early which was strange because he knows I love sleeping. We had a nice walk to the old part of the city and had a delicious breakfast in a small, hidden bar. We talked about his upcoming tour and the master I applied for. We were lazily strolling back home, full of all the food we’ve eaten.

“I wrote a song about you. Actually, about what happened to you. I know I haven’t experienced that kind of situation but I’m sure millions of other girls and boys are struggling like you did. So I wrote a song. The first verse is about not comprehending why people don’t accept you for who you are. Then, in the bridges, we have like a rising up of the music because the girl I’m talking about, you, starts a new journey far away from toxic people like the ones you met. The chorus is about finding the people who will be by your side for the rest of your life, not only a lover but mostly friends who feel like part of a family, you know. Like Brian and Geoff to me. And the last verse talks about the astonishing woman that girl had become and the love I have for her. I would like to make it the next single but first I’d like you to hear it. If it’s too personal I won’t publish it, I promise” he spoke slowly and I was happy to hear the news.

“I think it is a good idea. You’d give all those guys a light to follow, hope, you know. I would have loved to have an idol singing about something that actually concerned me. I am glad to be your muse for this song” I smiled, tightening my grip on his glove covered hand.

“You always are my muse. Everything I do, I do it for you or your love. Just, keep it in mind, okay? Now hurry up, I wanna give you my present” He exclaimed childishly. I laughed climbing the stairs that led to the door, using my keys to enter. As soon as I turned to enter the living room, I saw all of my friends from university and some of the crew members I had become attached to standing in the room, wearing colourful t-shirts and holding a long sign saying “Happy birthday sweetie!”.  I laughed nervously and walked out of the main door again, shocked, meeting Shawn warm chest.

“Where are you going?” he laughs hugging me tightly.

“They..here..I haven’t dreamed it, have I?” I cried, happy tears spilling from my eyes.

“Go, greet them” he smiled again kissing my hair. I ran back into the living room and hugged them all at once.

“Oh my god guys, what are you doing here? When did you arrive? How?!” I couldn’t stop stuttering. I hugged them again, taking my time to greet every one of them properly.

“Shawn told us what happened with your ex-classmates. Listen, petal, we love you. We are here to celebrate our friendship and our super strong and hard rocking girl, got it? No one is gonna leave you, you can be as bitchy as you want because it is your fucking birthday and we’re gonna party!” Y/bf/n screamed at the end, hugging me again. I felt so blessed.

“Thank you so much guys, really. It means the world to me” I admitted kindly, wiping away the tears with the shirtsleeve.

“Shawn brought us all here, to be honest. He’s the one who paid for everything and the one who organized the most fun long-weekend of our lives.” Said Brian, nodding to my boyfriend standing behind me. I turned around and threw my arms on his shoulders, making him lower his face and placing my lips on his. He smiled and then kissed me deeper, our friends cheering around us.

“I love you, hun. That’s amazing, you are” I murmured after our lips departed.

“You still have to open your present” he winked at me.

I knew from that moment on, I’d have never been alone.

Masterlist

part 2

[kalloway]

I Dream in Fear (old Dragon Age fanfic WIP)

Decided to just throw this up there - I wanna find the motivation to finish it or re-write parts of it, but tbh I’m actually pulling dialogue from it rn for a different dialogue idea I had lmao

But hey, it’s here if you want. It’s long, so it’s under the cut. I wrote this back in January 2015, apparently. Wow.

Hope it’s okay! I’m not formatting it at all before queuing this so if it’s weird... let me know - I know my theme’s garbage for this sorta thing rn OTL

There was a blade breathing down her neck as the silence hung heavy in the room. He tried, but his breathing was ragged; nervous. So quiet it was, he was ashamed to consider that his Knight-Commander could probably hear it form where he stood – judge it, criticize it when this ordeal was over – oh Maker, have mercy upon this terrified young Templar. Perhaps forgive him for the sin he'd considered acting upon. Duty had held him firm, but this mage – this woman – had managed to shake his stubborn will.

He was not supposed to do what he did. He was a Templar – plain and simple. He observed, he protected, he fulfilled his duties. He did not become a stammering fool and he did not become irresponsibly smitten with a mage simply because she had smiled at him once. He wasn't supposed to, but he did despite himself. Was he ashamed of this? Of course, but he found that every time he told himself 'no', he'd catch a glimpse of red hair and a flash of those honey-coloured eyes, and he'd forget his own oaths. He didn't even know her, and yet he knew far more than he cared to admit. She was very talented however, even First-Enchanter Irving had mentioned it once – but was it not wrong to pick favourites amongst those that may not even-

No, of course not.

He simply admired from a distance, trying to understand what exactly made him feel this way. Before he knew it however, the Templars' shifts would rotate, and she was out of sight... but not out of mind.

Some days were better than others in this situation. He wouldn't mull over it much and attended to his duties like any other Templar – though with the odd glance he'd give her when he thought no one was watching. Then there were days he became helplessly paranoid, fearing for her for minuscule reasons that he'd blow out of proportion. That mage over there seems like he's standing a little too close to her to just be on friendly terms... Was that Templar staring at her too? At the end of these troublesome days, he'd pray that he would grow out of this phase or... condition. How long he'd denied it. How long he'd attempted to brush it off as nothing. But it was nothing. Nothing good would come of it most certainly, but was that the only thing that drove him to all this concern and stress over a mage – a woman – that was nothing more than one of many charges he watched over? It was all too confusing for him, and he feared that it would start to show. He feared he'd be caught, or worse yet – she be the one punished for his own seemingly uncontrollable infatuation.

It was early one evening that he spoke to her directly for the first time. He was assigned to a watch in one of the libraries in the Apprentice Quarters. He didn't even realize that she was there – and therefore wondered why he was sent to a seemingly empty room to begin with – until she'd suddenly moved out the corner of his eye to scan more of the tomes on the tall wooden shelves. He didn't dare move from where he stood, but he watched her run a slender finger across the spines of the tomes, searching by title or author possibly, he didn't bother to choose one. He simply observed.

After a few minutes of searching and three tomes in hand at last, she finally spun on her heel to take notice of his presence with a simple greeting of, “Oh, hello Cullen.” He swore his heart ceased to beat when she said his name. He had never told her his name... he hadn't even spoken to her before!

“How do you-? I-I mean...”

She blinked once before she sputtered out a reply, “Oh, I just... overheard another Templar...” She trailed off, uncertain, “I'm sorry, that was probably very rude of me. It was not my place, Ser.”

He was taken slightly aback by her concern. Was it concern for him? No, no, no. Don't think like that. He felt like he was being strangled of the air in his lungs... why was it so hard to simply speak to a mage? “Oh, uh... it's no issue. R-really! You can, uh... you can call me what you like. Er- within reason, of course.” He felt like a fool.

She gave him a weary smile in return, “As you wish, Cullen.”

And that was the end of the conversation. Cullen spent the rest of that night berating himself for being such an idiot. Things only became worse the next day when he overheard a conversation between two mages as he made his rounds through the Apprentice Quarters. He only caught part of the conversation, but he had heard his name and mention of 'Amell'. That was... Cullen had panicked upon hearing this conversation, hurrying past that section of the mage quarters so he didn't have to hear any more of it.

Yet despite this, the routine remained unchanged, save for odd mutual glances at one another when they passed. It was embarrassing for the both of them. However she was undoubtedly more ignorant on such matters than he was. When he'd first become a Templar, they had blatantly stated that Templar-Mage relations were not tolerated, especially within the same Circle. He had wondered at the time why they would have to mention such a thing in the first place. After all, was it not common sense?

If that was the case, then Cullen had none.

He spoke to her again, this time in the Senior Mage Quarters on the second floor. She was waiting outside the main library/stockroom in the hall, where Cullen was walking. He'd considered trying to ignore her, but that would be terribly rude, especially if she made an effort to greet him should he do so. Therefore, he chose to simply (or tried, at least) to ask her why an apprentice mage was on the second floor.

She'd turned to him with bright eyes, “Ah, I'm waiting for Tomkin – you know Tomkin, yes? - to gather some tomes he believes might prove useful in my studies.” She suddenly turned bashful, “He says it'll help me get ahead with all this stuff. I told him that wasn't necessary at all – after all, I'm not really all that special – but he's quite persistent, he is. The only reason I'm actually here is because he said he didn't want to leave me unsupervised downstairs. Maker only knows why he's so concerned about something so trivial.”

There was that familiar dull pain in his chest again. Worry. He had a terrible, faint feeling about why the mage Tomkin would be concerned leaving her alone, but he dared not think of it too much. Instead, he did his best to brush off the grim feeling, especially when he caught sight of aforementioned mage making his way back to her no doubt, with an armful of tomes. “Oh, I-I see. Er, very well... carry on, Amell.”

He cringed and silently cursed himself. 'Oh Maker, it slipped I swear!'

She furrowed her brow at him. She noticed. Cullen panicked, he wasn't supposed to refer to mages by name... it wasn't proper protocol! Much to his surprise though, the young mage in front of him only said one word , paired with a stern look in reply: “Miriam.”

He almost asked her the most idiotic question, but she had turned her attention to Tomkin, who has returned and ushered her back towards the Apprentice Quarters with the 'reward of knowledge'.

Miriam.

It suited her.

After learning her name – her informal name at that – Cullen felt almost giddy for the rest of the day. He didn't pray for forgiveness that evening. He didn't berate himself yet again for his foolish, impulsive actions. He was completely and utterly infatuated.

He spoke to her once more after this, back in the library once again. She saw him and gave him her usual bright smile – her eyes warm and welcoming – that never failed to set his heart aflutter. They were silent for quite some time, until Miriam had returned the tomes to their designations and seemed to be preparing to leave for her quarters for the night. She stopped in front of him after glancing around, presumably to ensure they were alone. She then turned her gaze upon him, “It's funny, how we always seem to be in the same places these days, Cullen.”

He could listen to his name pass through her lips forever... He quickly snapped back to his senses to the best of his ability, “Ah, y-yes. Well I, uh... I take this particular shift once a week. I... suppose our b-being in the same places besides this is... it's just a coincidence I'm sure.” He mentally slapped himself. He sounded like he wasn't too fond of her implications, when it was really quite the opposite. But what was he supposed to say?

“A coincidence, perhaps. But it's not like it's a bad coincidence. I mean, you're more forgiving than most. You have humanity... restraint. Something most Templars appear to be severely lacking, from what I've been told.”

Her compliments caught him entirely off-guard. Technically speaking, she was crossing a fine line with her subject matter. But he found himself reduced to a stammering mess yet again, “Y-you think I- H-humanity?” He scoffed at his failing voice, but it came out far harsher than intended, “All Templars have humanity... Mages do as well. You do.”

Miriam sighed, “That's not what I meant , you- Ugh. The other Templars... they just follow orders and don't care about their charges. They'd rather do as they please and scowl from afar. But you... you're different. It's a refreshing change, not having to be paranoid every waking minute.”

No words tumbled from his lips this time. Rather, his adoration for this mage only increased and was threatening to show. Though she had indeed somewhat insulted his Order, her sharp comments were not directed at him... well, not entirely. He'd noticed she had the tendency of being rather snippy with those she spoke with, so it didn't bother him nearly as much as it should have, although it still brought a twinge of shame for his own misinterpretation. That concern aside however, she was still taking the time to compliment him on a trait he himself had grown to dislike. He feared his compassion would interfere with his duties as a Templar, and had been scolded by Knight-Commander Gregoir for it more than once. He'd tried to detach himself from his charges and had done so successfully with all but one.

'What made her so different?', he'd occasionally wonder.

He'd wanted to spill his feelings to the woman; to break protocol and let it out so he wasn't so worked up about it. He wanted to take her slim hands in his own and compliment her – on her beauty, her wisdom and righteousness, everything.

Before his wild train of thought had found its end, Miriam had hastily bid him goodnight before leaving for her quarters. He watched her retreating form. His gut twisted uncomfortably – he should have said something. He shouldn't have even been thinking of such things to begin with. Such thoughts were dangerous, they told him.

He would regret his silence the following day.

The day of her Harrowing.

There he stood, overseeing her Harrowing – the most important day of her life. Cullen had not been informed ahead of time like some higher-ranking and more experienced Templars may have been. Gregoir had simply approached him out of the blue and commanded him to follow. He did so, but only knew what he was in for after reaching the fifth floor of the tower – the Harrowing Chamber.

'This Harrowing is like any other', he told himself, 'but why does it feel so... wrong?' He was never this nervous – this afraid – for neither himself nor the Mage he was 'guarding'. No, that's not what it was to him at all.

[basketcase789]

Mistaken II

“Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humor, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible.” - Lisa Kleypas

Group: Seventeen Member: Woozi (feat. others) Genre: soulmate au, angst, fluff Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

You blew warm breath into your hands and rubbed them together, using the friction to feel just a little bit warmer. It was sunny, but the mid-morning autumn air in Seoul was crisp, and you shivered.

You were the only one your own age waiting in line for the fanmeet, you’d quickly noticed. Everyone else was either much younger than you, or their parents accompanying them. You tried your best to ignore the side-eyes directed your way; you were well aware not many people over the age of twenty-one were interested in groups as young as Seventeen. After all, a lot of their appeal was the potential for being a young fan’s soulmate. It was basically every fan’s dream, and you couldn’t exactly blame them since you considered yourself a dreamer, too. But after fans had their revelation dream, that appeal of being their bias’ soulmate was gone and they moved on with their lives.

That wasn’t to say these groups didn’t have older fans. They were just more interested in the music itself, rather than participating in fan events like these. You being here was pretty out of the ordinary.

Seating was assigned by ticket, so you didn’t have to wait long in line before the doors opened and everyone started moving forward, causing everyone to cheer, and your heart to speed up in your chest.

You’d spent all morning daydreaming about how the fanmeet would go. How close would your seat be to the stage? Your ticket showed you’d be in a seat 103, so you didn’t set your hopes too high of being in the front row. As long as you were able to see the boys’ faces clearly you’d be happy. Would you be lucky enough to go up on stage and play a game with all the members who you’d come to care about so dearly? It had been two years since you had your revelation dream, after all, and in that time you’d been following Seventeen closely with each comeback. Saying all the boys had grown on you would be an understatement.

But most importantly, would you get the chance to come face-to-face with Jihoon, and possibly confess your feelings?

If not today, you’d obviously meet him again someday - perhaps later on, after he had his dream and knew you were his soulmate, too. You just thought now would be a cute story to look back on later in life, and it would be interesting to see what his first impression was of you before he knew you were soulmates. Your bond desperately wanted him to like you, and you had to fight to keep your racing heartbeat steady.

You rubbed your hands together again, but this time it wasn’t due to the cold.

You were let inside the venue, and a staff member directed you to the best entrance based on your seat number. You wandered up the main aisle, your eyes widening with each row you passed and the closer you got to the stage. You stopped in front of your row, and double and triple checked your ticket. You hadn’t made a mistake. Your seat was in the third row from the stage. You didn’t have a good view, you had a great view, you realized as you took off your jacket and sat down.

Maybe luck was on your side today, and the thought brought a smile to your lips. Perhaps your friend had been right about everything all along; things did seem to be falling neatly into place. As seats were filling up and the venue grew louder with excited chatter you couldn’t seem to stop smiling. You still couldn’t believe you’d come all this way and were actually here, about to see your soulmate in person. You found yourself feeling bashful, and tried to hide your smile with a hand over your mouth.

The audience cheered and screamed as the boys suddenly filed onto the stage, but once you spotted Jihoon among them it was as if everything went silent, calm. His smiling face filled you with a warmth you’d never experienced before. He was so… perfect to you. When your eyes landed on him it was as if you were the only person there in the audience. For a moment it felt like everything was right.

They started off the fanmeet by performing the title track off their newest album. You stood up with the audience, a couple thousand fans at least, and cheered them on. You naturally couldn’t take your eyes off Jihoon while he danced and sang, despite wanting to give the others some attention, too. Watching him dance in person reminded you of your revelation dream from a few years ago, and you couldn’t help but watch fondly thinking about how his dancing had somehow improved even more since their debut days.

After their performance they each introduced themselves one by one and thanked everyone for coming. Meanwhile, staff set out chairs for them so they could take a breather and start their Q&A with the MC.

You were grateful that you’d taken the time to learn Korean, otherwise you would have been completely lost right now. Twenty minutes of laughter and fanservice passed by much too quickly for your liking, and then the boys performed a few more songs, to your delight.

Finally came the games.

Fans were chosen at random by seat numbers to go up on the stage with the boys. Although you weren’t chosen for the first game, you kept your hopes up. There would be plenty more chances. Besides... although you were happy with just the chance to see Jihoon’s face, the universe wouldn’t let you come all this way without getting to meet him one-on-one… would it?

You tried to enjoy the games and not be too jealous of the fans that already got to interact with the boys, while you waited patiently for your turn.

“Now it’s time for the last game,” the MC said, and the crowd whined.

You stared down at your ticket as the MC rhymed off the seat numbers for the final game... but your number was never called. You slumped in your seat, but didn’t have much time to wonder what went wrong when the MC spoke again.

“Make sure you stick around for the end of the game! Fifty lucky fans will get to participate in a surprise fansigning afterward, and receive a complimentary album.”

That perked you back up. This would be your final chance to meet Jihoon today.

After the last game, the Seventeen members gave a heartfelt goodbye, once again thanking everyone for coming, and went backstage, leaving the MC alone.

“After we announce who’s chosen for the fansigning, we ask everyone to exit the venue. Those chosen for the fansigning will be re-admitted inside after staff confirms with their ticket.”

The list of seat numbers was projected onto the screen for everyone to see. You carefully read through each one, your heart dropping the closer you got to the bottom and the more cheers you heard by fans who’d been selected. Your palms began to sweat.

You reached the last seat number and sighed with relief. It was yours.

You didn’t miss the girl sitting to your left glaring at you after reading through the list, but you chose to ignore her as you got up to leave.

Fifteen minutes later you were back inside the venue, the only real difference being the panel of empty tables set up in a neat line across the stage. You and the other chosen fans, with brand new albums in hand for signing, queued up below the stage. You weren’t at the very front of the line, so you had some time to think about what you wanted to say once you got to Jihoon.

Reality finally settled in, and you bit your bottom lip nervously. You would have all of Jihoon’s attention, if only for a minute. Your bond desperately wanted you to let him know you were his soulmate, but you also wanted to come off as cool, casual. You couldn’t say for sure which side of you was going to win.

The boys came back onto the stage amidst cheers from the fans. You gulped, unable to make a sound. Jihoon sat down next to Joshua at the very end of the panel, so you would be seeing him last. Hopefully that would mean less people overhearing your conversation - you wanted to be discreet after all.

The line moved quickly; these fansignings were understandably short, otherwise they could get out of hand and easily drag into an all day event. As you approached closer to the stage, you realized a pair of girls behind you were talking about you.

“What’s an older fan like her doing here? Her spot could have been given to a younger fan, how sad.”

“Shouldn’t she be off somewhere with her soulmate?”

Judging by the fact that they didn’t bother to lower their voices, they must have assumed you couldn’t understand Korean. Was you being one of the members’ soulmates such a far-fetched idea to them? Your cheeks burned as you tried to ignore them. As an older fan you’d expected something like this to happen, but it still bothered you.

Only a few people separated you from the front of the line, now, and you could hear bits and pieces of the conversations fans were having with the members.

“Vernon, I think we’re soulmates!”

“Ah, yes, I think so too,” he said with a wink. “I’m sure I’ve dreamed about you before.”

The girl giggled in reply.

They were both clearly too young to have had their revelation dreams. Somehow the thought had never occurred to you before - how many times in a day did these boys get told they were someone’s soulmate? Confessed to? Judging by what you were overhearing, quite often.

Jihoon was never going to believe you.

You stepped up to the stage and Seungkwan, Vernon, and Dino were the first ones to sign your album. You told each of them variations of how much of a fan you were, and how talented you thought they were. You lost track of the order you met the boys in after that. They were all very sweet, but you still had to physically restrain yourself from peeking down at Jihoon the closer you got to him, feeling it would be rude to the others.

When you reached Joshua you allowed yourself to finally steal a glance at Jihoon sitting beside him. You’d just caught the end of him doing some aegyo for the fan in front of you. You were so close now, and your heart started to pound in your chest.

“You look a little nervous,” Joshua said, drawing your attention back to him with a kind smile. “First time at a fansigning?”

“Yes, it is,” you admitted, although that wasn’t the reason you were anxious. Not the reason at all.

He signed your album and handed it back to you. “Well, I hope you’ve still had a good time here today.”

You thanked him and proceeded on to Jihoon, as the girl in front of you stepped down from the stage. You gripped your album tightly, heart pounding, until you knew Jihoon was ready for you. He glanced up at you with a bright smile, and your eyes met. You were afraid you were going to melt into a puddle right there. Realizing you were staring and taking too long to hand him the album, you propelled it forward and it slipped from your hands, dropping to the table with a loud clatter.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I didn’t mean to do that, I’m just a little flustered I guess.”

He let out a little chuckle as he opened up the album. “Why’s that?”

“You wouldn’t believe me…” You’d been watching him closely for any kind of sign that he felt your bond, a spark, anything… but found nothing besides a polite smile.

“Try me.”

“Okay.” You took a deep breath. “We’re soulmates,” you blurted. You had a chance and you decided to take it, watching carefully for his reaction.

“Ahh… well I already knew that.”

“You did?” You blinked at him. How could he possibly know? He hadn’t had his dream yet.

“M-hmm~” You watched him sign your album with graceful fingers.

He was just playing along, you realized, and you felt your bond take control of you. “No, I’m really your soulmate. I’ve had my dream and everything, two years ago I saw you in your dance studio you have to believe me Jihoon-”

You jumped slightly as he closed your album with a thud and pushed it toward you. His smile from a moment earlier had disappeared. “I don’t know you well enough for you to call me that. Whatever it is that you think… you’re mistaken.”

Your hands trembled.

I think you’re mistaken… do I know you?

The words spoken by your ex rang in your head, from the time you passed him in the street and he’d turned his back on you like he never knew you. He’d lied to you, taken advantage of you. You let him see the deepest, most intimate parts of you, and after he’d had his fun he left you. And it was the last time you ever saw him.

Why was your soulmate saying the exact same thing? How could Jihoon not feel what you were feeling? How could he not know?

“Jihoon…” you thought you heard Joshua say from beside him. He’d likely overheard part of your conversation.

You knew your time was up. Your body was on autopilot as you reached out and picked your album up off the table. You couldn’t look Jihoon in the face. I don’t know you…

A stabbing pain in your chest brought tears to the corner of your eyes. You took a quick step back without looking, clutching your album close, and spun around to hurry down the stairs. You didn’t want anyone to see the emotions you were sure would be showing raw on your face. You didn’t want to have a breakdown here in front of all these people, you just needed to leave as fast as you could.

You missed a step and slipped, crashing to the floor at the bottom of the stage and landing hard on your right ankle. You winced in pain and clutched your leg as your album slid a few feet away from you, amidst gasps from a few people who’d been standing at the right angle to witness your fall.

Quickly, before anyone could help you, you grabbed your album up off the floor and stood, gritting your teeth and hurrying toward the exit without looking back. Your leg, and your heart, throbbed with each step.

You reached the outdoors and were greeted by a gust of frigid air. You remembered it being freezing outside earlier, but it was nothing now compared to the ice you felt in your chest.

You pulled out your phone, limping along the sidewalk as you messaged your best friend.

Things didn’t go well… heading to the airport shortly, was all you said.