#lemme know if you want me to change anything xo

[princessonia]

@despaircrown. 🌹

Gentle fingertips intertwined delicately between long, blonde strands, tying the beautiful golden tufts in a pristine crown braid. As was often the case, surely mother and father would fuss and say such personal attendances were to be left up to their handmaidens, but should there ever be a person in this world she'd bend the rules for, it was her beloved twin. Pinning the trail in place, she then put her hands lightly upon the girl's shoulders, leaning down to look over her shoulder and into the mirror.

The reflections gazing back were two identical sets of azure optics. Sonja, the older, smiled upon Sonia, the younger. She ran an hand down the silken strands for good measure, and not a single knot remained.

"Beautiful as ever, dearest little sister."

[urfavoritegirlkisser]

"Midnight Rain" - Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader

a/n - finally getting back to writing!! it's been tough with school and stuff but I was finally able to write this, which had three drafts of how it could maybe go so enjoy!

Tags: Fem!Reader, Fem!Popstar!Reader, Rockstar!Ellie, wlw, slightly suggestive since it's kinda implied they had a one night stand, lightly proof read sorry babydolls, petnames like sweetheart and honey, playboy!Ellie, asshole!Ellie kinda, use of y/n, a little angsty won't lie, insecure!reader, lemme know if I forgot anything xoxo

You wake up to the constant ping of your phone on your nightstand, quickly realizing this wasn’t the hotel room your manager had arranged for you and registering the faint sound of the shower running.

Sitting up, you let yourself fully wake up before reaching over to grab your phone from the nightstand

The top one is a message from your manager with the link to a news article

“Pop Star Y/N Not As Innocent As She Seems?”

The article is about some grainy photos and a video of you last night at an after party with Ellie, who is in a rock band under the same label as you, it was your first big win taking home a Grammy for ‘Best New Artist’ and you decided to let yourself loose for once.

Your management wanted to keep up this facade of a sweet young pop star and that meant no ‘going wild’ as your manager liked to call it.

So the photos of you dancing and making out with Ellie Williams, who was known for her bad reputation and playboy tendencies was not good for your reputation apparently.

Speak of the devil…

You realize the shower has turned off and you see as Ellie walks into the room, clad in just a sports bra and sweats as she dries her hair off with a towel.

She looks over and smirks, “Well look who finally decided to wake up” she says with a chuckle and offers you a shirt of her own

You blush slightly, putting on the shirt before grabbing your discarded undergarments and quickly slipping them on, “My manager messaged me an article, apparently someone took some photos and videos of us last night at the party”

Ellie sits on the bed with her back against the headboard, “So? Not the first time this has happened” she says while fiddling with the rings on her fingers

You sigh and roll your eyes, “I mean to you maybe, but my manager is currently on my ass about what we’re supposed to do now and-”

Ellie cuts you off with a scoff, “Sweetheart it’ll be fine, they’ll circulate the pictures for a few weeks and then everyone will be over it”

You sit there before turning to her fully, “Will you be over it too?” you ask softly

The look in her eyes makes you regret even asking that.

“What? You think this is going to continue once you walk out that door?” she says with a laugh that makes your heart drop to your stomach, “Look you’re cute and all but I have a reputation to keep, honey”

You felt stupid, because of course this would just be a one time thing for her, and you knew that.

Maybe you thought you would be the one to change that.

“Right…sorry, yeah, I’m gonna go” you say as you take off her shirt and just put on the dress you wore to the after party, grabbing your things and making your way to the door of Ellie’s hotel room.

“Honey, don’t be like that” Ellie calls after you but you simply walk out the door and to the elevators where you go to your room a couple floors up, setting your stuff down, changing into casual clothes and sitting down on your bed.

You don’t know why you thought that you could change her mind, it was a fun night, but one that was meant to be forgotten.

Everyone will forget it happened, including Ellie.

You’ll forget it happened.

an - sorry if that was all over the place, I rewrote this like three times, anyways go drink water you girl kissers xo

[sylvie-writes]

Long Haul

word count: 1694

pairing: harry styles x female reader

summary: just some fluffy moments along Harry and (y/n)’s trip back to England. 

author’s note: this is my first time writing for harry, hopefully it is okay! it’s taken me forever to convince myself to write anything for him! if all goes well, i might write for him more often :)

please excuse any mistakes! 

Globs of people swarmed the airport carousel, anxiously waiting for the buzz that would signal the first round of luggage. It was already dark out since the flight was what some would call a “long-haul.” A few lonely stars were peeking through the large glass windows and the shuffling of people had started to dwindle down. 

Half an hour had passed since (y/n) and Harry had landed and unfortunately, it was one of those nights where the baggage was taking forever to arrive. Since (y/n) was ridden with sleep, she softly laid her head on Harry’s shoulder that was now clad in a black sweatshirt. The two had just flown back from the States where (y/n)’s cousin had her wedding. It was very clear that the man was handling the sudden time change much better than his girlfriend who hadn’t been on the road as much as him. Her sunken eyes would occasionally peer up at his glasses-covered ones, silently asking if anything had changed. When she noticed that nothing had changed and they were still stuck waiting, she’d just go back to leaning against the slender man as if he were a wall. 

Granted, from the small sum of people that surrounded them, a few still recognized the tall, famous brunette. To shun their stares, he’d just turn his head and look at his phone or place a kiss on (y/n)’s head before anyone could be sure that it was him. Harry was never one to be rude to those who recognized him, but as any normal human, the last thing you want to do at 1 am is take a picture after having sat on a plane for twelve or so hours. 

Finally, close to an hour after the flight had landed, a loud whirring awoke (y/n) from her mini nap on Harry’s shoulder and she looked up to see people crowding the metal carousel. Harry, too, noticed the commotion and looked up from his intense staring at the ground, now snaking his hands from his sweatshirt pocket to grab one of (y/n)’s hands. The two of them then hurriedly made a beeline straight into the crowd where their own bags passed by just in time. 

With their flight having landed at such an early hour, neither (y/n) or Harry wanted to trouble any of his family members by asking to meet them at the airport. Instead, they opted to use a rental car which now led them on their next task. Fortunately, (y/n) had dug out the papers earlier while on the flight which now allowed for them to easily decipher which stand to approach. Luckily, not many people were renting cars at this hour. Looking to make an excuse to run off, Harry quickly excused himself to “run off to the loo,” seeing as (y/n) was capable of handling this herself. 

Instead of actually running to the bathroom, the man took a slight detour and rather made his way to a small coffee stand that seemed to be open. He knew that (y/n) hadn’t eaten anything in a couple of hours and also knew that cinnamon rolls were one of the many ways to bring a smile upon her face. Oh how he loved seeing that gorgeous smile. It always made his day, albeit even if it was currently nighttime. 

The exchange was quick, but not quick enough as (y/n) apparently had the same plan in mind. Harry turned to see the woman approaching his way and he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle underneath his breath. She was halfway to the stand when she noticed her boyfriend, along with a coffee and cinnamon roll in his hands, causing her eyes to light up. 

(Y/n) smiled brightly as she handed the large luggage to Harry and he exchanged with her the two goodies. While the woman indulged in the snacks that would hopefully give her energy, Harry leaned down to softly kiss the crown of her head before throwing an arm around her shoulders, guiding them both to the parking garage. 

Once a second wind had hit Harry, he was a piper as a tiny dog while (y/n) struggled to keep her eyes open behind the wheel. She had been driving for some time now having convinced Harry to let her drive first, once they had left the airport. After some time of his own pleading, Harry was able to get the woman to switch seats with him at this gas station, ignoring her stubborn remarks. Normally on long drives, the two would take different “shifts” and technically it was now his turn to drive, despite (y/n) protesting that it wasn’t. The minute the man was in the driver’s seat and they were out in the road, (y/n) was more than alert. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Harry and his driving because he wasn’t a bad driver per se, but he was just a bit…too confident when he drove. Maybe it was the fact that he had a lead foot that made (y/n) physically push herself to keep her eyes open. For whatever reason, she just wanted to be awake, in case of anything that could suddenly occur. She’d much rather arrive at Anne’s in one piece and she was sure Harry would concur on the matter. 

To stay awake himself, Harry had turned up the stereo and teasingly sang off key to some 90’s pop song, giving (y/n) a bit of a laugh (and minor heart attack, as he kept looking away from the road.) She’d uneasily laugh to shake his gaze off and he knew very well what she was doing, having been with her so long that he knew her actions (and thoughts on his driving) like a second nature. So, being the man of humor that he is, Harry would purposely do little things to get on her nerves while knowing very well she wasn’t actually angry and rather playing along with the charade. 

“You alright there, (y/n/n)?” Harry, one hand on the wheel, placed his free hand on her thigh. He couldn’t help but slyly smile when (y/n) cut her eyes at him, the moonlight making them sparkle the slightest. “Just keep your eyes on the road, Styles.” (y/n)’s facade then broke, causing her to chortle a bit while a smile broke onto her lips. Harry noticed and his shoulders raised up in some laughter of his own. Eyes back on the road, the man blindly dragged his hand up her thigh and now into her lap, searching for her hand. Having found it, he intertwined their fingers, bringing the back of her hand to his lips. Needless to say, they stayed that way for the rest of the trip. Occasionally, the sleep deprived pair would participate in some off-key car karaoke of their own thanks to their current clouded judgement.

It was getting closer and closer to early morning by the time they had arrived. At this point there really was no point in sleeping as the day was about to begin anyway. Regardless of the time, Harry and (y/n) practically rushed out of the car wanting nothing more than some sleep. Leaving their unnecessary bags in the car, Harry fished out a key for the house, resting his hand on the small of (y/n)’s back, quietly ushering her inside. 

Like teenagers sneaking back in after a night out, (y/n) and Harry tip-toed up the stairs, careful of the creaking, and safely made it into his childhood room without waking anyone. 

In no time, (y/n) and Harry, arms wrapped around each other, were zonked out in the twin size bed. To save space, (y/n) pretty much threw a leg over the man’s hips while his own legs kinda fell off the side of the bed. It was very much comical and something out of a movie, but most of all, something they’d both feel later in the morning. 

-

10 am. 

BEEP!

The twinkling sound of Harry’s alarm went off, waking only him seeing as (y/n) was like a log to his side. Muttering a raspy “damn,” Harry quieted the annoying (and apparently forgotten) alarm. Never able to fall back asleep after waking, he opened an e-book that he had been dying to finish after months not having been able to, now relishing in the sun peeking into the room while his love peacefully dreamt beside him. 

Not too far into his book, Harry noticed the door slowly opening to reveal his mother, a small smile on her face. Finding the best way to get out without waking (y/n), Harry padded across the floor, meeting his mom in the hallway where she stood with a breakfast tray. 

“I saw your car out front and figured you two might want something.” Anne lifted the tray to show an assortment of breakfast goods. Scanning the tray, Harry noticed two lonely cups to the side, one of tea for him and one of coffee for (y/n). He gently chuckled at his mom’s attention to detail and thanked her with a kiss to the cheek, the two of them exchanging words of delight.  

Going back into the room, tray balanced in his arms, Harry noticed (y/n), now sitting up in the bed and sleepily rubbing her eyes. A cheesy grin was on the man’s face as he climbed into the fluffed up quilt, setting the tray in the woman’s lap. Leaning across, he quickly pecked her lips, “Good morning, m’darling girl.” 

“Morning, H.” She smiled at him, sounding well rested and chipper. (Y/n) gasped in excitement at the breakfast before her, going on about how Anne always thought of them and that they needed to repay her somehow. 

Harry just nodded, listening to her every word as if it was gospel, an uncontrollable smile on his face the whole time. As the two shared breakfast in bed, both Harry and (y/n) thought to themselves, “This couldn’t get much better.”

✰ hi! i just want to say thank you if you made it to the end of this haha! lemme know what you thought! i know there wasn’t much dialogue or loads of fluff, but hopefully it was still up to par! 

✰ if you guys ever have any ideas, feel free to send them my way and i will try to use them! xo. 

[jenniferxprentiss]

I Knew You’d Linger Like A Tattoo Kiss -> 3/6

you’re my golden hour (the color of my sky)

read it as a stand-alone oneshot here

The third time JJ kisses Alex in front of the team, they’re enjoying a rare day off at the carnival. JJ can’t keep her eyes off of Alex all day, and as the sun begins to set behind the clouds, casting them in a pink glow, JJ can’t resist insisting they go on the Ferris wheel just once. They’re quiet as they ride, JJ’s head leaned on Alex’s shoulder until they reach the top of the ride, both looking at the flashing lights below them as the sun disappears, giving way to a vibrant pink. In that moment, regardless of who was watching, JJ couldn’t help herself, leaned up and pressed her lips against Alex’s as the ride began to slowly descend.

or the alternative summary.....

Emily was arguing with Reid and Garcia about who got to go on first, Alex and JJ both laughing out loud at the way she was waving her arms around and trying to prove her point. In her defense, she had been dead and exiled to Paris after the trauma of Doyle — and in Spencer’s, she had left him behind and didn’t even say goodbye. “Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up again.” JJ’s tone was firm, eyes narrowing at Emily in particular who mumbled out an embarrassed apology. “How about you rock paper scissors for it?” “I like the way you think.” JJ stretched up on her toes, placed a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek before turning her attention back to Spencer and Emily, who were engaged in another bickering war.

hi hello lovelies!

the decision to post this as both a standalone AND the next chap of the 5+1 was a little tough, so I’m hoping you aren’t TOO mad at me for it! i just thought that 1) it would get more exposure tagged as hotchniss, light implied morcied and 2) this is entirely too long (3.2k words!) to be JUST a chapter. and it’s also lightly focused on the rest of the BAU too!! if u don’t like Alex x JJ, I don’t suggest u read, though! but whatever floats ur boat. love u!!

tag list xo lemme know if u want a future tag! @babyblockcolorcat @whiskey-fluent @anepiphany @criminalmindsgonewrong @ellegreenawy @alex-blakes @j3mily @jjsgirlfriend @blakes-dictionxry

——————

It was rare that the team was allowed any time off aside from weekends when they were in town, let alone a weekday to do something as simple as going to a carnival. Strauss had pulled some strings for Emily’s return to the BAU, classified it as team bonding when she informed them of their time off and told them not to stay up too late, they had work to do the next day.

They hadn’t considered a carnival until Emily and Alex had admitted to the team that they had never been to one — sitting around the conference table with the rest of the team staring at them in various states of confusion because really, who had never been to a carnival? Garcia immediately decided that there would be no other acceptable team bonding activity, and luckily for them they were right on time for the last day of the carnival.

JJ had always loved fall carnivals, loved the way the crisp autumn air blew the fallen orange leaves around her feet as she walked, the way it felt and sounded like magic as every footfall brought the crunching of leaves underfoot. She felt a goofy grin pull at the corners of her lips, her hand firmly in Alex’s as they walked leisurely along the pavement, watching Henry as he walked ahead of them.

There was a giddy happiness that coursed through her at getting to take Alex to her first carnival, JJ still smiling at the memory of watching her eyes light up as they drove into the parking lot. They were older, with children and previous marriages — a slow-moving divorce, in Alex’s case — and they didn’t have much room for firsts, and JJ knew this would be a memory they both held dear to them for years to come.

“He looks like he’s having fun.”

JJ could hear the subtle smile in Alex’s voice, breaking her from her thoughts. She squeezed her hand before looking up and watching Henry race Emily off to a ring toss game. He had missed his Aunt Em so much, the sight of him running off with her to go play brought the familiar lump of tears to the back of her throat.

“I knew he would. He missed her so much… I’m glad he can have today before we go back to normal life.” She laughed when Emily ruffled Jack and Henry’s hair, looked over at Alex pointedly. “And you? Are you having fun?”

“As long as I’m with you.”

Her answer was sincere, her tone even and measured but she knew that JJ would understand the true vulnerability behind it. She so rarely let her guard down around other people, especially after her separation from James, but somehow JJ was always able to pull her from the hidden recesses of her mind and get her laughing.

They continued walking in silence, JJ motioning to Hotch that she was veering off towards a stand, nodding when he signaled that he had eyes on Henry. She tugged Alex towards the cotton candy stand, felt her heart flutter when she noticed the soft grin on her girlfriend’s face out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m gonna go grab a bench for us.” Alex’s voice was soft, chilled fingertips grazing the palm of JJ’s hand. “Make sure you get the pink.”

Their relationship had never been built on grand gestures, rather small acts of kindness and words of affirmation uttered behind closed doors — the gentle whisper of words uttered against lips, the way Alex glanced at JJ in front of the team with eyes so full of love that they held a message. She didn’t need Alex to say anything at all — knew her better than the back of her own hand.

She shuffled up in line, eyes still trained on Alex as she sat on a bench, one leg folded over the other and hands in her lap. The sight melted JJ’s heart, the way Alex’s cream colored sweater contrasted her dark hair that hung over her shoulder in a loose ponytail, tied with a ribbon. She was so preoccupied watching Alex that she didn’t notice the man behind the counter clear his throat, calling her up to the stall.

“Oh, I’m sorry… let me get two of the pink and blue over there.”

He grunted, took her money before disappearing for a moment, rummaging in a corner JJ couldn’t quite see. She blew a kiss in Alex’s direction, felt her stomach flip with giddy butterflies when Alex mimed catching it, a goofy grin on her face. She turned back at just the right moment, the man thrusting her change and bags of cotton candy into her hand before mumbling a gruff thanks, already yelling for the next customer to come forward.

JJ remembered that Alex told her she loved cotton candy as a child, the way it melted on the tip of her tongue, felt her lips twitching up into a smile at the thought. She remembered the night they stayed up together long before their relationship had shifted to one laced with romantic intonation, both of them curled under a stiff hotel blanket and whispering silly secrets into the dark — both unable to sleep after they found yet another victim, this one hitting a little too close to home. She drank in every little detail of Alex in those nights, the soft side of her she never let show until the lights were turned out.

“What’s up?” Alex’s voice was soft, fingers grazing her forearm gently in a way that broke JJ from her thoughts.

“Nothing… just thinking.”

“Oh, that’s dangerous.” There was a playful lilt to Alex’s voice, lips curling up into a small smile as JJ sat beside her on the bench.

They were content to sit away from the action for a moment, just to watch the people go by. JJ watched Emily and Hotch, smiled to herself when she saw just how happy they were chasing after Jack and Henry. Emily was laughing — unrestrained, the kind of booming laughter JJ missed so much while she had been gone — her head tilted back and eyes sparkling as she reached for Hotch’s hand. He took it, pulled Emily into him and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before they pulled apart to help the boys with the water gun game they were playing, Emily’s hands on Henry’s smaller ones as she guided him.

With a soft smile on her lips, JJ brought a bite of cotton candy up to Alex’s mouth. Her lips wrapped around JJ’s fingers, corners of her lips twitching up into a smile as her tongue darted out to lave across the skin, collecting any small bits of sugar that were left. They soaked up the bit of silence amidst the chaos, before the kids or the team would come running and pull them away to another ride.

“Tastes good.”

“Yeah? I know how much you like pink.”

She couldn’t help but gaze into Alex’s eyes, the way they crinkled up in the corners as a wide smile spread across her face. Her eyes flicked up to meet JJ’s, sparkling with a hint of bashfulness behind her doe eyed gaze.

“Not just the candy.”

“Hm?”

“You.”

JJ felt her heart speed up at the tone of Alex’s voice, the way it was subtly playful — fingers catching her wrist gently and guiding JJ’s hand to bring another bite of cotton candy to her mouth. It was in these rare moments of calm with her — just sitting with each other and watching the world move around them — that JJ saw a more permanent future with Alex by her side.

In that moment, JJ saw lazy Sunday mornings around the breakfast table with Henry as a teenager, stuffing food into his mouth before running out the door to catch up with whatever friend he was going to hang out with for the day. She could see movie nights curled up on the couch as an older Henry rolled his eyes at the way his mother was laid across Alex’s lap. There were visions of Christmases spent together — building gingerbread houses with Alex, a dollop of dried icing on her cheek as they sang along to Christmas carols — and long walks down the street admiring the autumn leaves.

The sun had begun to disappear behind the clouds, setting rapidly into a pinkish orange glow and giving way to a chilled breeze. She turned, eyes catching Alex’s face in just the right light and felt her heart clench for just a second. She looked at peace — face relaxed and free of the worry lines that were almost permanently etched into her face — eyes trained on JJ’s side profile with a small hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“Hey.” They both startled when Emily approached, her voice soft and eyes kind. “Henry and Jack fell asleep, Rossi has them. A bunch of us were going to hop on the ferris wheel to watch the sunset… you in?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking.” JJ looked over at Alex, the way her eyes twinkled a little extra when Emily mentioned watching the sun set on the ferris wheel. “Yeah, we’ll be right there.”

“Hotch is saving us a place in line. Let’s ditch this shit with Rossi before they’re too far up in line.”

They half jogged over to the ferris wheel, Alex’s hand firmly in JJ’s, delightfully short of breath as a giddy wave of butterflies settled their way into her stomach. She had never been with someone who made her so lovestruck, made her feel like the little emoticon with heart eyes that JJ used so often — she wanted to drink in every second of the feeling, to never forget the fluttery happiness she felt in that moment.

“Nervous?”

“Sort of. I’ve never been on one before.”

“I’ll hold your hand the entire time.”

Alex smiled, a genuine grin directed at JJ, before turning back to look at the ferris wheel again, taller than she imagined one would be in person. The lights were on now, flashing and changing so rapidly that it made her eyes burn but she couldn’t look away. It was intoxicating — not just the wheel and lights, but the carnival itself. The ambient chatter in the background, hundreds of hushed conversations mingling with music and announcers yelling over the crowds brought a soft smile to her face, head quirking to the side as she tried to pick out any definitive sounds in the crowd.

She was pulled forward by JJ, the line moving again as another couple stepped into their seats and the worker started the ride up again. In front of them, Emily was arguing with Reid and Garcia about who got to go on first, Alex and JJ both laughing out loud at the way she was waving her arms around and trying to prove her point. In her defense, she had been dead and exiled to Paris after the trauma of Doyle — and in Spencer’s, she had left him behind and didn’t even say goodbye.

“Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up again.” JJ’s tone was firm, eyes narrowing at Emily in particular who mumbled out an embarrassed apology.

“How about you rock paper scissors for it?”

“I like the way you think.”

JJ stretched up on her toes, placed a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek before turning her attention back to Spencer and Emily, who were engaged in another bickering war. She shook her head, squeezing Alex’s hand gently in a sign of love — something they had adopted when they were still trying to keep their relationship a secret in front of the team, a simple gesture to say they loved each other.

By the time the ride operator opened the gate, Emily had declared herself the winner, but stepped aside and ushered Spencer forward with a sheepish smile on her face. The sight made JJ laugh, the way she walked back over to Hotch and let him wrap his arms around her from behind — having had no intention of actually making Spencer wait to get on the ride, not after she watched him buzz with excitement the entire time they had been in line.

He pulled Derek and Penelope through the gate with him, an uncharacteristically giddy smile tugging his lips upward and making the corners of his eyes crease with the sheer force of his unrestrained joy. JJ felt her lips quirk up into a smile of her own at the way both Derek and Penelope protested riding all together, but eventually let Spencer drag them onto the bench, all squeezing together as the ride operator clicked the bar down and started the ride again.

“He really has them wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?”

JJ let out a small chuckle at Alex’s words, nodded as she watched the trio move up on the ride, all of them laughing and joking together.

“You say that like you wouldn’t move heaven and earth for that man.”

“He reminds me of my son… almost as much as Henry does.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He had nine good years… and what is it they say about found family?”

They were interrupted once again by the metallic clang of the gate opening, Hotch and Emily sauntering hand in hand over to the ride car. They sat, Hotch’s arm around Emily’s shoulder and her head tucked into the crook of his neck as the ride started up again, and JJ felt herself swell with happiness at the way Hotch’s coat was around Emily, essentially dwarfing her in the material.

“They make a good couple.”

“Oh, yeah. I knew it would happen… especially once she went to Paris and there were no technicalities of the job keeping them from their feelings. He thinks I don’t know he was flying out to see her once a month.”

“He didn’t think Emily would tell you?”

“I think he was too in love with her to care what I thought.”

Alex made a soft sound of understanding, knowing the feeling all too well. When they had gotten together, in the early days of their relationship outside of falling into bed together for ‘stress relief’ on hard cases, she didn’t care if she lost her job — if she had to quit to just be with JJ on the off chance that it would work out — she felt such a strong pull to the other woman. Thankfully, the HR department was more than okay with their relationship — especially so after Emily came back engaged to Hotch — but it had always stuck at the back of her mind, exactly how much JJ meant to her.

“I love you too much to care.”

The words were laced with an intonation that made JJ’s head quirk to the side in question, wondered exactly what Alex meant and knew it wasn’t the place to ask — not with the way her voice was so soft, eyes soft and filled with such a fierce love that it made her head spin. To be loved so much was almost intoxicating, and she gave Alex’s hand another squeeze as the gate opened for them.

They sat perched on the edge of the bench seat, JJ’s head resting comfortably on Alex’s chest as the ride began to move, cranking them up into the night sky. The sky was a brilliant pink now, both of them transfixed by the sight, still entwined in more than a simple clasp of hands, but fingers laced together in a sign of love.

She loves me. She completely, wholly loves me.

JJ caught herself looking upwards for a second, a warm happiness filling her chest as she watched Emily lean into Hotch’s kiss, her hand on his stubbly cheek. It felt like she was watching a private moment, the way she leaned into him with so much love and adoration that it was almost too much to handle.

“Alex?”

“Hm?”

“I love you completely, wholly.”

“And I, you, my darling.” She paused for a moment, looked out at the carnival below them and back to JJ, a twinkle in her eyes. “Thank you… for bringing me here.”

They were paused at the top of the ride now, passengers disembarking their ride car below and giving them just enough time to look out at the view — the pink sky that cast them in the perfect glow, and accompanied with the lights and sounds of the carnival, it almost felt like they were in a movie.

“I’m honored.”

There was a gravely sincerity to JJ’s voice, and Alex knew she didn’t just mean it in regards to the carnival. It was an honor to love her — to share her dinner table with her, to share a bed with her while away on cases or the rare night that they could stay over at the other’s home.

“Jennifer…”

Their breath hitched, JJ leaning forward and letting her free hand cup the back of Alex’s neck, pulling them together and pressing their lips against each other. It was as though time was standing still for them, the shrill laughter of children and the music from the carnival below them fading into nothing but background noise — nothing mattered but the press of their lips, the way one simple action held so much love and tenderness.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, the ride jolted to a start again, their car descending. They could hear the shrill laughter of Spencer and Penelope, no doubt at something Morgan had told them — looked down and noticed Emily and Hotch cuddled against each other, her shoulders shaking in a silent cry as he held her, rubbed his hand in circles on her upper back.

“I wish we could stay here forever.”

“Hm?” JJ looked up again, felt herself melt when she gazed into Alex’s eyes. “Oh, me too. Aside from the chill… I’m starting to regret my wardrobe choice.”

With a soft laugh, one lacking the ‘I told you so’ she so desperately wanted to say, Alex wrapped her arm around JJ’s back, pulling her girlfriend into her and pressing a soft kiss to her hair. She let herself simply be in the moment, let herself be aware of every point of contact between her and JJ — from the way her hand connected with her shoulder right down to their knees bumping against each other — as she watched the carnival lights come closer and closer as they descended, knew that when they stepped off the ride they would be back to the chaos they both secretly loved so much.

“Jayje?”

“Mhmm?”

“I think I’m ready to ask him for a divorce.”

It was a ghost of a whisper uttered into the chilled evening air as their car came to a stop at the loading station — a statement so full of hope and love that it made JJ’s stomach flip. She didn’t dare mention it in front of the rest of the team who was already waiting for them at the exit gate — simply turned to Alex and pressed her lips against hers once more before exiting through the gate and joining the team again, a soft, proud little smile on her lips that she knew she wouldn’t be able to shake for the rest of the night.

[horde-princess]

posting this text submission under the cut bc its long haha. more religious trauma stuff

I am honestly finding it so hard to read the christianity meta posts, because the fact that religious trauma is even a thing just feels so… wrong…

Ok lemme back up for a sec: Hi I’m a white straight Male Christian who is freaking in love with She-ra because oh my gosh it is just so good! And this is gonna be a first for me because I dont like speaking my mind on social media about anything. ever. It actually terrifies me to do so. Especially a topic as dicey as this one. But my heart bleeds when I read about religious trauma, because no one should be experiencing that. I was always taught that God was, first and foremost, a being of unconditional love who loves EVERYONE, but there are a lot of people out there who preach hate and discrimination and say they are doing in the name of God, when in reality this is the opposite of what God is. You wanna know what my favourite line is in all of She-Ra? “Your imperfections are what make you beautiful” (Entrapta). You know why it’s my favourite? Because it’s TRUE, and that is exactly how God sees us. We make mistakes. All of us. We hurt others, we hurt ourselves. We are imperfect beings striving to be the best us we can be, and that’s all God ever wants of us. I hate the implication that Horde Prime is supposed to represent God, because Prime is the opposite if everything God is. Prime isn’t God, he’s a sad little man in a position of power who wants everything to be his own version of perfect. He’s the guy who preaches hate and discrimination and hurts people who don’t think the same way he does because he’s afraid, and he uses ‘God’ as an excuse for his own actions because if he didn’t then he would be the bad guy, and he’s afraid of that too. Basically what I’m trying to say is… I’m sorry. People call themselves Christian’s and use that as an excuse to hide behind that let’s them abuse and hurt people (and this happens to all kinds of people but right now I’m talking about my LGBTQ+ friends bc its topical for She-Ra) causing all this religious trauma that if people actually behaved like Christian’s and were loving and accepting like we have been taught just… shouldn’t exist. But that hasn’t happened, and people have been hurt, so on behalf of all Christians:

I’m sorry. For everything.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be, and for a lot of Christians (myself and my church community included) this isn’t how we act. We are loving. We are supporting. We are accepting. But there are a lot of Christian communities who are not, and it hurts me to see it happen everytime.

If you made it to the end of this post… uhh thanks for reading I guess, it means a lot to me. This hit me really hard seeing these posts in context to one of my favourite tv shows of all time, and I really just felt like I needed to do something about it. Love you all <3

———

hey bud i appreciate the sentiment! i hope you let your disappointment motivate you to actually go out and fight to make a change. i sense some desire to distance yourself from the issue, like “well the CHURCH is wrong but me and my friends are different.” and thats.. kind of like saying “I’M not racist i just live in a systematically racist society” ykwim? so yeah sit with that guilt its a good place to start but dont let it stop there. its gonna take hard work and it may be scary and uncomfortable but if you truly feel this way then i hope you see you have a responsibility to help change things.

for the record horde prime doesn’t actually represent god. personally i tend to headcanon him as a god like figure but according to the showrunner he actually represents a familiar brand of cult-like leaders who twist religion for their own purposes, just like you said :) 

take care xo 

[buckyreaderrecs]

A Toast to Whiskey: Chapter 1 / 2

Summary: You work in an old bar hidden away from the modern world. It's almost charming, but not quite. That's probably why Bucky likes it.

Words: 2,325 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/reader Characters: Bucky Barnes Additional tags: Bucky needs a hug, recovering Bucky, mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), angst, she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with part 2, brief mention of Nazis, mental health will be prominent part of part 2

Note: Find this fic and others on A03 - click here. And follow this Tumblr! I post lists of Bucky/Reader fic writers and reblog all my favs. I’ve just started it, so would love the support! xo Rhi

Dedicated to: @browngirlmagic for the conversation. The next chapter is the Lush one!

A Toast to Whiskey Chapter 1 / 2

There were a lot of things in the dusty, old bar that made the man's jaw clench in annoyance, distaste, or anger. You were compiling a list of these things, doing your best to minimise their occurrences. There was one you couldn't avoid though, and it was almost amusing that it bothered him at all. Each time someone ordered a drink - beer, cocktail, shot, whatever - a clean glass was given. The man didn't like it. Was it not like that in his time?

If James Buchanan Barnes thought he'd gone unnoticed in the hole-in-the-wall bar you worked at, he was mistaken. Not entirely, to be fair; the baseball cap and quiet stopped the other patrons from even giving him a second glance. 'Patrons' might have been too civilised of a word to call them. They were old, sickly, local men that had been drinking the same beer from those same taps forever. Harmless, mostly. Unobservant, entirely. Not you though. The first day Bucky walked in and taken a barstool on the very corner, closest to the door, you knew exactly who he was.

Like a lot of people that came and went from the establishment, Bucky's seeking of anonymity was granted. You pretended to not recognise him. You were kind to him, a little more gentle than you were to others, but mostly just a good bartender. And in time, you grew accustomed to the charade. He came in a couple of afternoons a week, but never during the nights when it would be busy. Eventually, he even started to speak more than a couple words to you.

"New cap?" you greeted Bucky with a grin, putting the only drink he ever ordered down in front of him.

Bucky wrapped his right hand around the glass of whiskey. He glanced at you, smiled and shrugged.

"Speaking of new, can I ask you something?" you asked.

The expression on Bucky's face was guarded, but definitely one of concern. You realised you should have just asked, rather than let his mind spiral.

"What’s your problem with clean glasses?"

He looked surprised. Surprised was an experience Bucky wasn't particularly used to or fond of. He wouldn't hold it against you though.

"How do ya know I got a problem?" he asked back, genuinely curious.

Shrugging, you looked around casually. "Guess I notice a lot of things about people,"

"Right," he said slowly, knowingly. "I don't know… Just seems wasteful… Is it the law?"

"That we have to use clean glasses?" you asked with a laugh. "I don't know… probably not. I mean, it's more hygienic. Probably makes the drink taste cleaner or whatever. Board of Health might have a problem with us if we didn't… Not that I've seen one of them in here in years."

Bucky picked up his glass and finished the whiskey. "Fill her up," he quipped. He'd made a half-joke, and you appreciated the effort.

"Yes, sir. Lemme know if you, you know, what anything else," you told him, topping him up, knocking your knuckles on the bar top, and walking away.

…

Bucky Barnes certainly wasn't the most chatty person you'd met. It was better to ask questions if you wanted to pass time with conversations. Easy conversation was one of your special skills, being a bartender and all. However, it was incredibly difficult to do this when you were purposefully avoiding topics that would put Bucky in a position to have to, you know, admit his identity and all that. So, things stayed superficial.

No, Bucky didn't watch the game.

Yes, the weather's been insane.

No, he doesn't want any nut mix.

Okay, maybe yes to pretzels.

Yes, he can see your hair has changed colour.

Yes, he likes it.

For as long as it had taken to get to the point of superficial conversation, it didn't take any time at all to run out of things to say. As it turned out, neither you nor Bucky had lived, or were living, shallow enough lives to sustain it. There were questions you were begging to ask, and if he was honest with himself, Bucky was kinda just counting down until you finally spoke up.

…

"So, I got a question,"

"Mmm. You have a lot of questions," Bucky said, smirking then taking another sip of his whisky.

"You could ask me somethin' if you want a change of pace, pal."

It was a joke. Just banter. But a dark expression flashes across Bucky's face for only a split second. You didn't catch it.

"What's your question, Y/N?"

He knew your name?

Of course he knew your name. He was The Winter fucking Soldier. He probably knew everything about everyone that worked and frequented the bar. How had you not thought of that before? Suddenly, it seemed risky to ask what you had planned to.

Bucky watched you hesitate. He sighed and looked around at the empty room. It was a Monday afternoon and it was just before the regulars showed up to knock beer bottles together and catcall you across the bar. It was just you and him.

"Ask," he said softly, taking his cap off and setting it down on the barstool next to him. You watched Bucky run his hands through his hair, tucking some of it behind his ear.

"Why do you drink whiskey?"

Bucky laughed. Like, a proper heartfelt laugh. "What?" he said, nose still scrunched up in amusement.

"What?"

"Why do I drink whiskey?" he repeated.

"Yeah… I mean… It's disgusting… and, like, you… can't get drunk, right?"

There it was. You did it. Admitted you knew him. Which he figured out. So none of what was happening was really a big deal. But it sure as fuck felt like it.

"Right. I can’t- Well, I can, but it takes a lot,"

"Asgardian mead a lot?"

Bucky grinned and tipped his glass towards you. "How do you know about Asgardian mead?"

You snorted. "Everyone does. Everyone knows everything these days,"

"That's what we want you to think," he said, not skipping a beat.

It made you laugh. It was already better talking to him without false pretences. "So, whisky?"

"Ah… Guess it's that everything's different now… An' that's mostly good. But… You know."

No. No, you didn't know. How could you even begin to understand? "Yeah," you said, your voice far more quiet than you meant it to be.

"Whiskey's still whiskey,"

"It tastes the same?" you asked.

"Almost. Not exactly. Close enough,"

"Makes sense… But why here? S'not like this bar been here since the 40s or anything."

Bucky was visibly trying not to smile. Or make eye contact. "Ah… Not sure how to answer that without… offending ya,"

"Huh? ... Oh, I don't own the joint or anything,"

"You don't?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"No? You think I did? Why?"

"You're…" but he shrugged, still guarded. "I don't know," he lied. "But, ah, I was just lookin' for somewhere…"

"Pretty much stuck in the 40s or thereabouts?"

He nodded, smiling. "But without the Nazis,"

"Mmm… I mean… Have you watched the news lately?" you very quickly said.

"I try to avoid it," he admitted solemnly.

As people started to wander in, the conversation waned. Bucky watched you serve cold beer and pour bags of crisps into bowls. He listened to the worst songs being picked on the jukebox and he sat truly shocked you weren't even at least the daughter of the owner. Despite what you may have thought, he hadn't bothered to investigate you at all and finding his assumptions to be wrong was unsettling.

See, Bucky was a little bit smitten with you. He thought you were smart and sassy and timelessly beautiful. You were the ultimate perk of randomly picking this as his hideaway from the world. But, he figured you were only here because it was a family business. Why was someone smart, sassy and beautiful working strange hours at a shitty bar?

It was hard to say which of you was more curious about the other.

…

Something about what Bucky said had stuck in your head. Whiskey, his drink of choice, was the closest thing to his own time he could find. You could do better than that though.

About a year into working at the bar, you were finally allowed to venture into the cellar to clean it up. There were boxes of shit from forever ago down there and you just wanted it sorted, gone, and the space put to better use. Most of what lived beneath the floor was trash, but every hour or so you'd find something cool. A few vintage beer signs. Empty bottles of collector edition Coke. That kind of stuff. But, there was one thing you had found that you now wanted to stumble across again.

Nobody could remember where it had got to.

It took two days of searching to find it.

The bottle of whiskey was shoved under a bunch of paperwork in the office's bottom drawer desk. Not exactly where you'd store something worth a lot of money, but hey - the barely-there owners of the bar were eccentric, to put it nicely. You didn't recognise the brewing company on the peeling label, but that wasn't the point. The date on the bottle quite clearly read 1940.

When Bucky took his usual spot that afternoon, you bounced over to him with a grin on your face. He looked up at you, keeping his cap.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm so happy?" you said, elbows on the bar and head in your hands.

Bucky smiled a little. He seemed sad. Sadder than usual. Good timing.

"Why are you so happy?"

"'Cause I found something that's gonna make you real fuckin' happy. Check this out!"

You produced the bottle from where you had it stashed under the bar and handed it to Bucky.

Bucky's lips parted slightly and his eyes went all glossy. He read the label carefully, probably trying to place the brand you couldn't. He handled it so carefully, even more than you in your fear of dropping it.

"This is real," he finally said.

"Yeah. I found it in the basement ages ago and just remembered it. 1940, so I figure it's like, first or second batch after Prohibition, yeah?"

Bucky nods. "I guess…" he replied, smiling, remembering Prohibition. "And before all the distilleries had to stop again,"

"For what?" you asked.

"The war," he said so matter-of-factly that it hurt a little. He looked up then, saw your confusion. "Dunno if it was law or if they just did it, but most places stopped making drinking alcohol and started making stuff to help win the war. And ah, whiskey stopped being made because it took up too much crops. I don't know. Something like that."

Something like that. Like he hadn't lived history.

"I didn’t know that. That's…" Not 'cool.' "That makes sense… Anyway. Open it," you ordered, getting out two clean glasses.

Bucky put the bottle on the bar and looked at you seriously. "Y/N, that's gotta be worth… a lot… Can't open it for no reason,"

"Nobody here cares about it. And besides, it's not really no reason, is it?" He didn't move or say anything. "Bucky." He flinched at his name, glanced around to make sure nobody heard. They hadn't. "I think you kinda earned this one, yeah? Now do me the honours."

Why was everyone in Bucky's life so goddamn stubborn?

He sighed and opened the bottle silently. You nodded in encouragement, letting him pour.

"A toast," you posed, holding your glass up. Bucky mimicked your action. "A toast to…" Everything in your head sounded either very cliché or very sad.

"Whiskey," Bucky finished.

"Whiskey," you agreed.

Drinking at the same time, Bucky swallowed in two gulps while you struggled with a sip.

"Jesus fucking Christ it tastes like cat piss now and it did then," you whined, pouring the liquid left in your glass into Bucky's. He laughed at you.

After drinking that down quickly, Bucky reached across the bar and took your hand in his. "Thank you, Y/N. Really."

A toast to finding things that make us less homesick.

…

After the 1940 whiskey, Bucky came in more regularly. He stayed longer, despite the place filling with people. He even began to talk to the other regulars when they sat at the bar and argued with you about politics, the news, and kids these days. You watched him play devil's advocate, siding with the old men, sarcastically poking fun at you with a quick comment every now and then.

You weren't sure when it happened, but you realised Bucky had grown to be comfortable in the space. And there was something about that that made you ridiculously happy. Like, sunbeams bouncing around on the inside of you making you all hot and tingly and full of joy whenever he was there kind of happy. It was gross.

Bucky would walk in, sit, place his cap down and grin at you with his cute little teeth and sparkly blue eyes. It made your day without exception, and you started to notice more little things about him and how they made you feel. When he hooked his hand behind his ear it would make your stomach flip.

One time, when he was telling you a story about carnival rides and baby Steve throwing up, a loose strand of hair fell across his face and you immediately and unconsciously leant across the bar and folded it gently behind his ear for him. Bucky froze, and you went to apologise, but he spoke first. "Thanks," he said softly, with more meaning than the situation called for, then continued on with his story.

It was like that for just over a month. Then he stopped coming in. There was nothing in his final visit to indicate he wasn't coming back. Bucky just disappeared.

CLICK TO READ PART 2/2

[itsjustaphase-mom]

Queer Eye: Umbrella Academy Edition

so the phrase “Luther on Queer Eye” came to me and I freaked out and uh yeah this happened... i basically wrote up how the Fab Five would help the Hargreeves siblings (its under the cut cuz it’s l o n g) (also Karamo signs them all up for therapy i didnt write that for each one because they all need it so bad) (oh also warning i dont know shit about anything these men are experts in so constructive criticism is appreciated thx xo)

Luther

Tan- surprisingly, Luther doesn’t seem to have any issue finding well fitted clothes, so Tan would probably just work on style- add some colour and prints, teach him how to make his torso look a bit smaller with the cut of his clothes and stuff like that

Antoni- big man need big food...find recipes that satisfy the monkey body??

Jonathan- Help that man deal with his monkey body!! shaving is an option buddy

Karamo- help him get over his leader complex and ALSO i was thinking about the fact that he doesnt realize how bad his siblings (namely klaus and vanya) were abused?? and that’s why he’s always brushing them off like that because he thinks his experience matches theirs even though he had superstrength and was their dad’s favourite...he just never stopped to consider that  they had it so much worse so fill him in karamo plz

Bobby-He needs space, he’s a big man. Bobby’d be able to hook him up with stuff that was big enough to help him feel normal sized again (and also they’d hopefully help him find an apartment because he doesn’t need to live in that house)

Diego

Tan-he needs some colour in his life... also imagine Tan finding outfits that can hide his knives better that just sounds hilarious

Antoni-please antoni this man ate a raw egg....help him

Jonathan- He has some scars on his face but they make him look cool (and I think he feels that way too) so Jonny could give him tips to cover em but i dont really think he’d want em...he’d probably just tell him to moisturize

Karamo-help him grieve Patch, he barely got a chance to with all the apocalypse nonsense

Bobby- he’d make Diego’s place look cool and edgy but also be hella functional it would look so cool

Allison

Tan-she’s absolutely gorgeous and all of her outfits are stunning and honestly he has his work cut out for him with the next one so it’s his day off

Antoni- he’d teach her how to make some real good stuff that she can teach Claire how to make!! it’d be so cute!!! Maybe Claire would join em!!!! guys!!!!!!

Jonathan-give her the haircut that Emmy has please for the sake of the gays i am begging you

Karamo-he’d help her get her daughter back (i know that’s out of his paygrade but shhh) and teach her parenting techniques to use instead of her powers

Bobby- he’d make her a chic, childproof home and it’d be the best

Klaus

Tan-fashion is a spectrum that ranges from Klaus to that guy in season one (?) that said his style icon was Frasier... Tan would be simultaniously LIVING for Klaus’ outfits from a proud gay dad perspective and appalled by the things he wore...he’d find a balance that was very gay but more befitting a 30 year old man (would Klaus actually wear it? probably not. he’d diy that shit and the look on tan’s face would be priceless oh my gosh im crying at the concept yknow the end when they all sit down and watch their routine? Klaus would go through his closet and look directly into the camera, holding up the “new and improved” clothes while tan just loses his mind)

Antoni- teach him how to make easy, good food. He needs some quick, simple, healthy recipes for when he’s not feeling it okay wait now im thinking about klaus getting addicted to cooking as a way to occupy himself when he gets too close to relapsing and guys guys guys we have a CONCEPT here oh boy i might have to do smth with that

Jonathan- honestly he’s pretty good? Probably a haircut and also GIVE HIM ROB’S NATURAL CURLY HAIR

Karamo-help him get sober. and help him learn that he can be more vulnerable, he doesnt have to laugh off everything. He doesnt have to hide everything. he needs to get help sometimes. also get him to do yoga because i feel like he’d love that for some reason??? idk the idea just popped into my head and i think he’d be a big fan

Bobby-give him a place that’s functional and neat, but with his sense of style. Quirky and artsy. Very easy to clean and keep organised, because his stuff is in such a state of disarray.

Five

Tan-just like.... go buy clothes that aren’t your old school uniform? Something that is befitting of a 58 year old man but doesn’t look too off on a 13 year old’s body... I feel like Tan and Five would be bros

Antoni-teach him that he cant survive off coffee...also teach him how to make his own damn coffee instead of whining about it all the time

Jonathan- Teach him how to shave and just generally take care of himself properly because he didnt have anyone to do that the first time around im not crying youre crying

Karamo- Make him less of a dick. It’s okay to hurt, and it’s okay to be confident but you dont gotta be an asshole about it. also maybe discuss delores.

Bobby-he needs a study with lots of space to write lmao ooh imagine the style is inspired by all his favourite time periods, whatever those may be that would be so cool plenty of antiques in that place

Ben - ok i know no-one but karamo could really do anything cuz he’s a ghost but pretend they could

Tan- he needs that colour boy he’s too emo (for Tan, i fully support emo rights)

Antoni- uhhhh he hasnt eaten in like 10 years feed him smth good

Jonathan- He’s perfect so nothing to change tbh

Karamo- honestly Ben is the most well-adjusted??? and he’s dead?? idk what karamo would really do besides getting him therapy

Bobby- He needs a place for himself!! There’s theories that he doesnt exist without Klaus which tbh I kinda believe so even then Bobby could incorporate a little space for him in Klaus’ place... get him some bookshelves!!

Vanya

Tan-absolutely nothing, her style is impeccable... ok fine tan would maybe make it more gay and fit better, accentuating what she wants instead of hiding everything under the baggiest shirts she can find

Antoni- comfort food that’s healthy (what? do i hear vanya and klaus bonding over using cooking to cope???)

Jonathan-GAY HAIRCUT UNDERCUT OR SMTH (but also her hair is adorable so i kinda dont want him to cut it......)

Karamo-help her realize she’s gay, just look at her karamo... but also work on her self esteem because shit dawg that could use some work

Bobby-fix up her apartment!! make it sleek and cool with hints of violins everywhere and also make it brighter because that colour scheme cannot be helping her depression

uh so yeah this was just me ranting for no reason lemme know what you think lmao

[hollandtomholland]

Movie Night - T.H.

---> Roommate!/Bestfriend!Tom x reader

A/N: Hey guys, it’s been a while! This is my first attempt at writing again after my hiatus and it’s based on a request sent in by @obsidiandolans. I hope I did it justice! Also requests are still open, so send me your ideas and I’ll write you a little something. Much love as always xo

Summary: Move night is the best night, and with Tom and Haz as roommates, it’s always a success. Tonight, though, things are a little different. Lingering feelings are bound to shake things up for you and Tom, no matter how hard you try to ignore them. 

Words: 3.5k

Whoever said three is a crowd has clearly never lived with Tom and Haz.

The three of you have been best friends for as long as you can remember, so when the time came to find somewhere to live, you didn’t even have to ask if you’d be getting a place together.  Two years later and your cosy little flat is the perfect home, nestled just outside of the vibrant city centre. Each piece of furniture tells a story; the battered old sofa the boys dragged back from a garage sale, the kitchen table stained with countless rings from Tom’s coffee cup, the stack of blankets that keep you warm during winter movie nights. You couldn’t ask for a better place to come home to – or better people, at that.

There is one thing, though, that could be a little better. A lot better, you think, as you glance at Tom from your place at the kitchen table. He’s sprawled out across the sofa watching TV, one arm behind his head and the other clutching a cushion to his chest. Even in his sweatpants with unbrushed hair, he looks like an angel.

Over the past year or so, your feelings for Tom have grown and changed into something that no longer resembles the normal feelings you should have for a friend. The sound of his voice in the morning makes your heartbeat race, one look in those warm brown eyes makes your breath catch in your throat and oh god, you’re in too deep. He’s kind, sensitive, so perfect it almost hurts. Every day you fall a little bit harder, and being so close to him all the time complicates the situation even more.

Of course, you’re a long way from straight up admitting your feelings. How would you even go about that? It would change the way you live irrevocably, and not just for you and Tom – it would affect Haz too. There’s just so much to consider, and you know you’re not ready to take that kind of risk.

You probably never will be.

And so, the path of least resistance is the one you choose: doing nothing. Life carries on as normal, with both Tom and Haz none the wiser as far as you’re aware. Besides, you’ve got more important things to worry about, like the work you should definitely be focusing on right now rather than staring at your best friend.

“Aw, damnit!” Haz curses, scowling into the fridge.

You glance over and raise an eyebrow at him. “What was that for?”

He sighs, waving an empty milk carton at you. “No milk. Because someone –“ he says, turning to direct his ire at the boy laid out on the sofa, “Forgot it was their turn to buy some!”

Ah, the never-ending milk debate. Tom looks up with a sheepish grin on his face, hand running through his unruly curls. “Sorry, mate, totally forgot. I’ve had my head buried in this new script all day and it completely slipped my mind”.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just have to suffer through milkless tea till tomorrow” Haz replies theatrically, throwing the back of his hand against his forehead.

You close the lid of your laptop and stand up from the table, glad for the distraction from work. “I was gonna run out and grab some popcorn for movie night anyway, I can get the milk at the same time”

Movie nights are the best nights, in your opinion. Cuddled up in blankets, a bowl of fresh popcorn between the three of you, and a good movie? It’s your idea of perfection. Recently, though, you’ve started relegating yourself to the armchair rather than getting up close and personal with a certain someone. The three of you have never shied away from snuggling up together, but with your feelings being what they are, it’s no longer doable for you. Being pulled into Tom’s warm chest, his arm slung over your shoulders with your legs crossed over his… yeah, that’s not a good idea. Why torture yourself any more than you have to, right?

“Great idea!” Tom says, quickly pushing himself to his feet. “Lemme grab my coat and I’ll join you”

“Oh, don’t worry about it” you cut in hurriedly, “You’ve got work to be doing”.

Alone time with Tom is, unsurprisingly, something else you’re keen to avoid. The city is oddly romantic when it’s late, and even a short moonlit stroll to the shops would be a little much for you. How have you let it get this bad, you wonder. It’s hardly fair to Tom, pushing him away like this, but you tell yourself it’s for the best.

“Nah, I could do with a break and some fresh air” he persists, smiling warmly at you. One look from him could make you do anything, but luckily your sense of self-preservation takes over.

“Seriously, Tom, I’ll be quicker on my own” you tell him, fixing him with a determined gaze. His eyes search your face for a moment, intense and melting as they briefly lock onto yours. You swallow hard.

“Hmm, suit yourself” he says finally, eyes dropping to the ground as he wanders over to the kitchen.

“And make sure to grab a couple of pints at least, I’ll betcha anything Mr. ‘I totally forgot’ will forget again” Haz adds as you slip on your coat, eliciting a groan of protest from Tom. You nod over your shoulder as you head out of the apartment, the door closing with a click behind you.

Tom watches the door for a moment, rubbing at his cheek with thumb. He’s interrupted by a sharp cough, whipping round to scowl at the offender.

“You’re seriously testing my patience” Haz says, nudging Tom in the ribs as he walks past.

“What d’ya mean?”

“I’ve told you a million times, just tell her you love her and get it over with – for my sake, if not yours”.

There’s a moment of silence whilst Tom figures out how to respond. Harrison catches his hesitation and rolls his eyes, gesturing for his friend to join him on the sofa. “Don’t give me all that ‘it’s not so simple’ crap, cause it really is”.  

Tom sighs and flops down into the cushions, pulling his knees up to his chest. “But we’ve known her for years, Haz, she’s our best mate. I can’t fuck that up by making things… weird”

“Weird? Please, we passed weird a long time ago when you started getting flustered if she so much as smiles at you” Haz replies, grimacing. “You’re being so obvious it’s insane”.

“I just don’t know what to do, you know? She’s been so distant lately, too” Tom frowns at Harrison, who smiles wryly at his friend’s confusion.

“Distant? You think?” he chuckles.

“I don’t… she’s just… wait, what are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything, mate. All I know is that being in the middle of all of this is getting old.” Haz sighs, throwing his arms behind his head. “And it’s about time you did something about it”.

Twenty minutes later you arrive back at the flat, armed with three pints of milk and enough popcorn to feed a village. “I went for sweet and salted, since you guys seem to change your preference every time” you call as you kick your shoes off, before wandering into the kitchen. “And three pints of milk just to be on the safe side”.

Back in his usual position on the sofa, Tom smiles warmly up at you. “I owe you one!” he says, swinging his feet to the ground and walking over to join you.

“Don’t worry about it. Where’s Haz? Movie night is a-go!” you reply, opening a bag of popcorn with a dramatic flourish. Tom laughs, reaching across you to grab a bowl from the cupboard

“In bed. He’s got an early morning tomorrow, wanted to catch up on some sleep”.

Haz isn’t joining you for movie night? Oh, this isn’t good. Two hours or so alone in the dark with Tom is the last thing you need right now.

“What? But movie night is a tradition, he can’t just miss one!” you protest, folding your arms across your chest. “Maybe we should postpone till tomorrow then”.

Tom takes the popcorn from you and empties it into the bowl. “He’s cool with us going ahead with it, don’t worry” he says, before nodding to the sofa. “Come on, let’s get started”.

You follow hesitantly, aware that further protests will only make you seem more suspicious. The next problem that crosses your mind is a matter of seating. With Haz gone, you no longer have your usual ‘you guys take up all the space!’ excuse for not joining Tom on the sofa. You watch as he picks a cosy blanket from the top of the stack, throwing it around his shoulders like a cape. “If you’d like to take a seat, madame,” he grins, “The presentation will begin shortly!”

With that, he throws himself back into the sofa cushions, patting the empty space beside him. There really is no way you can refuse, and so you obligingly take your place. “And what presentation will that be exactly?” you ask, trying to push the heightened awareness of his closeness from your mind. By way of an answer, he picks up the remote to switch the TV on. The screen flickers to life, revealing a very familiar title screen.

“Infinity War? Come on, you must’ve seen this a hundred times!” you exclaim. Though he’s not the type to get a kick from watching himself onscreen, Tom has always had a soft spot for Infinity War. He had so much fun making it, and you’re certain that watching it as often as the three of you have done is simply an excuse for him to re-live the great memories he has of being on set.

Tom grins, putting his feet up on the coffee table. “What can I say? It’s a favourite. And don’t pretend you don’t love it cause I know you do” he teases, before pulling the blanket from his shoulders and laying it gently over the both of you. “Ready?”

No, you think.

“Go for it!” you say, and the familiar Marvel logo fills the screen. Laying the remote down on the coffee table, Tom settles back into the cushions and shuffles in until his side is pressed against yours. He rests his arm casually across your shoulders, letting out a gentle sigh of contentment.

This isn’t going to be easy.

At least someone can relax, you think. As the film unfolds, though, a part of you has to admit that you’ve missed this. Complicated feelings aside, you’ve always valued the level of closeness you have with the boys. Platonic intimacy is greatly underrated, and let’s be honest, everyone needs a little human touch every now and again. The fact that it happens to be coming from the boy you’re in love is just an added bonus – he’s just so warm, and familiar, and comforting…

Yeah, definitely not easy.

Still, if you focus on the film and let your mind quieten down for a while, it’s almost like things are back to normal. Just two friends, sharing popcorn and blanket, enjoying a great movie together. Simple. You can do this.

And for most of the movie, you manage perfectly fine – and then the final sequence begins. Why do you always forget how devastating this movie is? It hits you right in the chest, just like it did the very first time you watched it. As the faces you know and love turn to dust onscreen, that little lump starts to form in your throat and your eyes begins to fill with hot tears. It’s no use controlling your emotions, you’ve tried and failed a hundred times before.

When the worst part begins – you know the part – those tears start to slip down your cheeks.

“I don’t feel so good”

Of course this part makes you cry. You know it’s not real, and you know Tom’s safe right beside you, but god does it hurt seeing that lovely face crumble into nothing in front of you. Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you turn your face away from him in a bid to conceal your emotions.

It’s a little late for that, though.

“Oh, love” he murmurs, his voice soft as he notices your tears. The arm around your shoulders pulls you into his chest, a hand stroking your hair. “It’s okay”.

Against your better judgement you let yourself relax into him, cheek pressed into the soft knit of his jumper. His familiar scent fills your senses, equal parts comforting and exhilarating. The gentle rise and fall of his chest is broken by a low chuckle, “Gets you every time, doesn’t it”. He’s the perfect antidote to the emotional wringer that Infinity War is putting you through, always so sweet and kind and caring and…

This is exactly what you should not be doing, you realise. You carefully extricate yourself from his embrace, letting the blanket slip from off your shoulders as you sit up. “Sorry about that” you mumble, focusing your gaze back on the screen. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him looking at you, brow furrowed slightly.

“Nothing for you to be sorry for” Tom replies, shuffling round to face you. The corners of his lips are curled into a sympathetic smile, as he reaches out a hand to gently brush a stray tear from your cheek. His touch is so light and fleeting you should barely be able to feel it, and yet it’s as if his fingertips leave burning imprints on your skin. “If anything, I’m flattered. Means I must’ve been doing something right, hmm?”

You nod, managing what you hope is a convincing smile as you settle back into the sofa and try to concentrate on the film’s closing moments.  Tom, however, still has his gaze firmly fixed on you. “Now you’ve got me all emotional, darling. I hate seeing you cry, especially when I’m the one who caused it” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m fine, Tom, honestly. Think I’m just tired” you tell him, bunching up the edge of the blanket in your hand. “Probably best I get an early night, actually”.

Quit before you give too much away, you think, pushing the blanket off your lap.

“Oh. Well okay, I’ll, um…I’ll…” Tom begins, his voice trailing off as he watches you.

You flash him a smile, and begin to stand up. “Enjoy the rest of the film, I’ll see you in the morning”.  

“Actually, darling, hang on a minute”.

There’s a change to his voice, a hint of something deeper colouring his words as he sits up straight. “Can you just sit back down for a second? Please?”

He looks up at you, his expression unreadable as he gestures to the space beside him. No matter how much you want to remove yourself from the situation, you can’t say no, but as a compromise to yourself you choose to sit in the armchair instead. A bit of distance is a wise idea, especially since you can’t take your mind off how good it felt to be close to him again.

His shoulders drop slightly as he watches you sit, his gaze falling to the floor for a second before returning to meet yours with renewed determination. “Why do you keeping doing that?” he asks, his forehead creased as his eyes burn into yours.

“Doing what?”

“Running away from me. Like you want to be as far away from me as possible”.

His words are thick with real emotion, a desperate, pleading rawness that burrows its way into your chest and clutches at your heart. You don’t know what to say, so taken aback by the sudden shift in atmosphere. It’s impossible to look at him in the moment, your eyes cast downward as you pick at the embroidery on a cushion.

He knows you well enough to realise you’re not going to reply. A humourless laugh escapes his lips, a hand coming up to rub his brow as he shakes his head. “And it sucks, you know? You being so far, right when I want you even closer”.

Your breath catches in your throat.

What’s happening?

Across the room, Tom stiffens in his seat. He knows that with one simple statement, he’s crossed a line that there’s no going back from – so he pushes forwards. “I’m just gonna say this now, cause I don’t know that there will ever be a right time, so… I can’t be ‘just friends’ with you anymore, Y/N. I can’t”.

He lets the words hand in the air for a second, pausing to gage your reaction.

You can barely allow yourself to breathe, lest the tiniest sound or movement fracture the moment you almost can’t believe is happening. Slowly, you lift your gaze to meet Tom’s. His eyes are dark and intense, cheeks flushing a heated pink as he holds your gaze. Still you say nothing, but the steady eye contact is enough to steel him on.

“I think I’ve known it for a while. Haz certainly knows it, and I don’t know, maybe you know it as well. But it’s true. I just…” he continues, swallowing hard. All of his bravado, his easy charisma, his defenses – it all drops away. There’s a vulnerability about him as he sits across from you, his eyes wide and his lips parted.

“I love you”.

And then, almost as if he’s admitting it to himself for the first time, “I’m in love with you”.

There it is.

Whatever happens, he’s said it. No going back now, no matter how much he fears he’s ruined things forever. “So now you know. And I’m not… I’m not expecting to you say anything, cause I know it’s a lot to just drop on you” he says, pushing himself to his feet. “So I’m gonna head to bed and give you some space, and when it’s right for you maybe we can –“

“Tom, wait”.

You push yourself out of the armchair, fighting the fog of emotion and adrenaline to get your words out straight. “Now is right for me”.

Tom pauses, choosing neither to sit nor move any closer. He’s frozen, held in limbo, and you know that your next words are the key to setting him free. It’s a lot of responsibility, but luckily this is a moment you’ve been rehearsing over and over in your mind. You know exactly what to say.

“Everything you’ve said, about not being ‘just friends’ anymore? I get it. I get it cause I’ve been thinking the same thing”

You let your gaze roam over his face, his perfect face, and you recognise a glimmer of hope in those beautiful eyes. “Tom, that’s the reason why I’ve been running away all the time. Every time we got close it was too much for me, too hard to act normal. It was just easier to stay away rather than risk giving myself up”.

Even though he’s already made it clear how he feels, the nerves still claw at your throat as you let slip the most crucial words. “I love you too, Tom”.

In seconds, he’s across the room and right in front of you. That glimmer of hope has burst into pure light, his eyes full of joy and love as he gazes down at you. His arms wrap around your back, pulling you into his chest for the second time tonight – now, though, you don’t want to pull away. This feels right, even more so when he tilts his head and closes the gap between your lips. It’s a gentle brush at first, the two of you savouring the moment before he catches your bottom lip between his and deepens the kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair, and one of his comes up to cup your jaw and pull you even closer.

You can feel him smile into the kiss, before he pulls back ever so slightly to rest his forehead against yours. Neither of you say anything, basking in the moment’s glow as you gaze into each other’s eyes.

A clatter from the kitchen interrupts your post-kiss haze, and you turn to see Haz frozen with a glass in his hands. “Don’t mind me” he says, slowly backing away until he’s just the other side of the door frame. “As you were”.

Tom lets out a low chuckle, his hands gripping your hips as he nods at his friend. “Goodnight, mate”.

Haz disappears into his room, raising his glass to you in a mock salute before closing the door.

“How do you think he feels about being a third wheel?” you ask Tom, resting your hands against the firmness of his chest.

“Ah, I think he’s okay with it. Doesn’t really have a choice, does he?” he replies, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Now, where were we?”

[mysteli]

Endless Summer Imperfect - Chapter 12

A/N: So this is probably the turning point of the story so be prepared! I don’t know why this chapter took me so long to get out but here it is! Hope you like it! ❤️❤️❤️Also, I haven’t used any gifs or pictures in this chapter, only an aesthetic at the beginning. Lemme know how you feel about that. 

Warning: T (might be some sensitive topics)

Tags: @princesstopgun @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @mechaspirit @endlessly-searching-for-you @skyila @brightpinkpeppercorn @mind-reader1

Endless Summer Aftermath - Ending 1

Imperfect 

Chapter 12 - Juvenile

Logan

Shock clouds over Logan fairly quickly, a confusion poisoning her mind, as she scans the familiar and life-changing item that she held in her delicate hand. A compass. Simple, it seems. Like it could mean anything. From nothing to everything. And trust that this means everything to Logan. 

It was her grandfather’s, used to guide him through the war when it took place. For when he was fighting and when he wanted to remember those he left behind. Then, it was passed down to Logan’s father, who didn’t really care for it much so he gave to Logan to ‘play with’ since he was pretty ignorant most of the time. She loved it. She found it fascinating and felt like it held so much history. It always felt like a guide to her, leading her to her true purpose and in some way, it did.

It led her to her best friend Diego and the love of her life, her soulmate Jake. She thought she lost it sometime during the island, since she forgets the last time she saw it. But then it was returned to Logan as her Ember of Hope. She wasn’t expecting to have on of those, as she was the one holding the other side for the others. But she has one. An important one. She ended up to giving it to Jake to keep safe and show that she trusted him with the most important thing to her grandfather and that she loved him enough to make him feel like he’s apart of her family. 

Now, he still has it. Jake still has it. How? Wouldn’t it have perished with the other Ember of Hopes? Logan knows for certain that they disappeared. Salvaged and scattered. But Jake still carries the compass with him. That must mean something.

Logan can’t seem to take her eyes off the compass and her breathing starts getting heavy, as conclusions build up in her head and doubts circle her like shadows. The compass hasn’t aged a day. It’s still the same bronzy copper colour, slightly rusting on the sides. It’s attached to lighter chain and it has a quote engraved on the base. A quote that Logan remembers all to well.

‘If you truly love someone, you’d cross every mile of space just to bring them back if they ever disappeared’ 

Logan remembers the first time Jake said something similar when she suggested the idea of giving herself to Vaanu, which didn’t end up going well. Jake was willing to do all of that just to have her back in his life. It’s crazy to think someone can feel that strongly about another. But then again, is it really that surprising when you’re soulmates?

Enraptured with the sight of the compass, Logan traces her finger over the base, using it to outline the quote and creating a mental memory in her mind. She never thought she’d see it again and yet, here it is. 

“Princess?” Jake suddenly questions, startling Logan out of her endless trance. All she could wonder was how long she was staring at the special symbol of hope. 

Her ocean eyes snap up and she instantly meets eyes with Jake, who is now inches away from her, both hands gripping her at her waist as an attempt to bring her back to reality. There’s a concerned look in his eyes. A look that only Logan ever really got to see. 

Jake releases a sigh of relief, when he sees her face again and his features relax. “You okay, Lo?” He asks in a genuine tone and Logan forms a weak but reassuring smile, planting a light kiss on his chin. However, there’s still a hint of bewilderment in her sapphire eyes. 

“I’m fine. It’s just...” She trails off, dropping her gaze back to the memorable compass and grazing her fingers over it once more. Jake follows her curious stare and immediately raises his eyebrows when he notices her confusion.

“That’s a compass, darlin’.” He states simply, tilting her chin so she’s staring into his eyes and so he can make sure she understands what it is. 

“I know what it is, Jake. I can’t help but...” Logan struggles to form an explanation, feeling like if she tells him what it really is then he’ll learn everything a little too soon. She promised him answers but she can’t risk it. Not yet anyway. “Where did you get it?” Logan questions instead, trying to not cause suspicion once more with Jake. She’d already fucked everything up enough. 

Jake furrows his brows at her, not really sure what’s going on. “Why do you wanna know?” He asks, making Logan realise she’s already caused him to be skeptical. It is understandable though. He’s going through a lot of confusion. 

Logan sighs hesitantly, her head collapsing into Jake’s bare shoulder. He flinches slightly before moving his hand to stroke Logan’s platinum hair. She tilts her head to meet his eyes as she says her next words. “I’m just curious.” She lies, which she hates doing and she’s completely aware that he doesn’t believe her, judging by suspicious expression on his once.

However, he doesn’t question it. He just shakes the skeptical feeling off and prepares to Logan’s question. “I just kinda found it one day. It got washed up on the beach where I was walking. Tide brought it in and I happened to find it.” Jake answers and then trails off, his eyebrows colliding as he contemplated. “Kinda felt like I had to take it, you know? Like it was calling to me...” He pauses, eyeing the unreadable look on Logan’s face, as he clasps his hand behind his head awkwardly. “Eh, you probably think I’m being stupid.” 

Logan immediately shakes her head, denying his assumption and planting a soft kiss on his lips. “I think you’re being real.” She corrects, gesturing to the compass and pointing to the words engraved on the top. “Does it... mean anything to you?” She asks awkwardly, breaking the brief silence. 

Jake scans the compass for a moment and then Logan’s hopeful face. She has a lot of faith that there’s some part of him that remembers this compass. Maybe it’ll help him remember everything. “Well, Yeah. I carry it every day...” He trails off, releasing a heavy sigh as he reveals the next words. “...Reminds me of someone I feel like I used to know.”

Hearing that, Logan’s eyes instantly light up, hoping that it’s her he’s talking about. Someone he recalls but can’t picture. That’s all she wants. A sigh that there is a chance to fix all of this.

Perhaps she’s closer than she thinks.

Jake scans Logan closely for a minute, a curious look in his cerulean eyes, as he notices how her expression changes every few seconds, a different emotion conveyed each time. 

“Tell me why.” Jake suddenly questions, furrowing his brows at Logan, causing her to lean back slightly while she fidgets with the ends of her platinum hair. 

“What?”

Jake chuckles faintly, realising he wasn’t clear. “Tell me why you’re so curious about this.” He explains, pointing to the compass and retrieving it from her. He fiddles with the bronze chain and dangles it in front of Logan, who watches it like an hallucination. 

Intrigued, Logan’s ocean eyes snap up and she wonders if he should tell him at least part of the truth. “Nothing much. It just... reminds me of something my grandfather used to have.” She admits, resting her jaw on her fist and following the compass as it moved through the air slowly, waving back and forth. 

Finally, Jake drops the precious compass and hands it back to Logan, a smirk crossing his lips. “What’s so special about the one he had?” He asks, seeming genuinely curious about this story. 

Logan closes her eyes for a moment and weak smile is formed when she thinks of her grandfather, who she misses more than anything. “He carried a compass like this with him when he fought in the war. Every day he’d look at it when he felt lost or afraid.” As Logan tells the story, she strokes the base of the compass and Jake watches her intently. 

“What does the quote mean?” Jake asks, gesturing to the engraved words on the top and catching a glimpse of a memorable smile creeping at Logan’s lips. Barely though. 

She eyes it meaningfully for a moment, a memory igniting in her mind. Usually, the memory of Jake saying it to her on their last day together but also one of her grandfather telling the story of why he chose it.

“This quote was his message to those he loves when he was away at war. Saying no matter what happened, he’d still risk his life those he loved. He’d cross every fucking mile of space just to make sure they’re sure. He’d put the quote in every single letter he wrote. I was thrilled to see it when my dad let me read all of my grandfather’s old letters to his family.” Logan can’t help but smile with tears of mixed joy and sadness. “The compass always led him in the right direction. He believed that was the only reason he survived. He loved the compass and he passed it down to my father when he...” She trails off, meaningful tears rising in her sapphire eyes. 

Noticing, Jake quickly wraps her in his arms, before she could collapse onto the mattress. She was distraught over this and it’s obvious. Jake strokes her platinum hair comfortingly and she buries her face in his bare chest, sobbing uncontrollably and needing to just let it all out. She hasn’t thought about her grandfather this much in a long time. She forced herself not to ever since he passed but now... maybe she needs to stop bottling it all up. 

It’s not just her grandfather. It’s everything. Losing everyone she loves to a stupid choice she made. Watching them treat her like a stranger and act like completely different people to the ones she grew to love. Having to fix everything with only her own memories to count on, which is starting to become very vague. She’s afraid that one day... she may lose all her memories.

In fact, she may be running out of time. 

 Finally, after what seems like forever, Logan lifts her head from Jake’s chest and locks eyes with him, the tears beginning to dry on her cheeks as more were rising in her ocean eyes. Jake wipes a teardrop from her cheek and plants a kiss where he swatted it away. His touch lingers for a moment and Logan leans into it, forming a grateful but weak smile as she meets with eyes with Jake. 

“I’ve lost people too you know. I get it.” He states, pure honesty in his ragged tone. He’s clearly but his comment seems to spark a memory in Logan’s mind. She’s aware that Jake has lost other people besides Mike. 

On the island, Jake revealed that he lost his grandfather to a piloting accident, which is very painful considering that was Jake’s motivation to join the navy in the first place. When Logan heard that story, she definitely cried but she was careful since Jake never really liked pity or being pitied. But in that moment, he didn’t seem to care. They ended up grieving together with a meaningful moment of silence to honour the legacy of the deceased.

Logan nods understandingly, as Jake plays with strands of her platinum hair. “You lost your grandfather too.” She whispers, her voice breaking and stuttering as she speaks like a buffering television or just something broken. 

Hearing that, Jake leans back slightly but he doesn’t seem as shocked as Logan thought he would be. All he really does is raise an eyebrow at her questioningly, seeming more expectant then surprised. 

“That journal is starting to seem like less of a joke now.” He points out, running a hand through his sandy hair nervously. There’s a tension in him as he straightens up and Logan can tell she fucked up his mind even more.

Logan sighs heavily, knowing how much Jake is dreading answers. “Sorry. I’ve been doing that a lot. You know...” She trails off, not wanting to explain it.

“Knowing things I’ve never even told anyone before? Reminding me that you know me so much better than I think you do? Almost refusing to give me answers until tomorrow?” Jake interrupts her and he earns a huff out of Logan as she facepalms hard. The next thing that comes out of his mouth seems almost accidental. “...What’s so special about telling me tomorrow?”

Logan’s eyebrows raise in surprise at the question that she should have been expecting but wasn’t prepared for. Truth is, she doesn’t really know. Jake promised they’d wait until tomorrow. She just really wants to savour this moment with them and not let it go to waste. 

She can’t seem to find the words to respond with and her ocean eyes just sheepishly sink to stare down at the mattress in shame. Unsurprised, Jake yawns exhaustedly, definitely ready for some sleep. 

“Jake...” Logan begins to finally answer his question before Jake cuts her off by putting his finger on her lips, immediately sending a shiver down her spine.

“No, Princess. You don’t have to.” 

Logan raises her eyebrows, completely bewildered. “What? But I thought you-“

“Forget it, darlin’. We’re both tired and we need sleep. Lets just figure it all out in the mornin’.” Jake suggests, collapsing back on the mattress and beckoning for Logan to join him. 

She furrows her brows questioningly for a moment, wondering if he’s playing a game. But the pure genuineness in his eyes is impossible to ignore. However, Logan is still reluctant, not eager to give in too quickly. 

“I’m not tired.” She clarifies, accidentally letting a yawn out as she spoke and that overlapped over her words. She catches sight of a smirk playing at Jake’s lips as he pulls her by her waist and yanks her, still gentle, so she’s positioned in his arms, snuggled into his bare chest.

“You little liar.” Jake jokes and even though he’s messing with her, Logan does really hate it when he calls her a liar. It makes her feel like nothing, even if Jake’s intentions are good and not meant to hurt her. 

She hovers over him so their eyes are burning into one another’s. Wordlessly, Jake slowly brings their lips together in for a lingering kiss. However, none of them seem to wanna pull away. Jake starts gently tugging at her lower up, as she tangles her fingers in his sandy hair. The kiss deepens as their bodies are pressed against one another even closer. They tease each other frequently with their hips and lips, smirking every time one of them got the other to moan involuntarily. 

This is it. This is all Logan wants to cherish. Until tomorrow comes and the truth is forced to come out. 

Zahra 

“You’re kidding, right?” Michelle assumes, completely shellshocked that Craig would actually do such a thing. Hearing her doubts, Zahra and Craig both burst out laughing, as they continue to tell the most embarrassing college story ever.

Raj, Zahra, Craig and Michelle are all seated in the kitchen - having some of the weirdest banter anyone could ever have. They’re at a party! They have the right to enjoy themselves. Sure, Zahra is getting paid for this but she can still have fun. Hell, she’s supposed to be acting as DJ right now but Raj granted her with a break and hired someone else for the time being. For once, Zahra wasn’t completely bored at a college party. 

Then again, this isn’t a college party. It’s Raj’s party!

Zahra is propped up on one of the kitchen counters, while Craig is leaning against the fridge. Raj is seated cross legged on a cheap wooden table left unused in the party and Michelle is positioned with her legs tangled on a fancier chair. All of them carry drinks and all of them are continuously giggling uncontrollably.

They are actually having fun, despite one of the group members being missing. Sean hadn’t exactly shown up to the party yet. He hasn’t even called or texted anyone. No notice. No nothing. He just decided not to show. Hell, it is kinda understandable, judging by how things ended with them earlier. With Sean being kicked out and all by Michelle. It’s okay if he doesn’t wanna show but it also doesn’t make his problems any better. 

Quickly, Zahra shakes the negative thoughts away and focuses on her friends. Damn, there’s a word she never thought she’d be referring to people as before. She must be growing up.

Michelle and Raj’s eyes are widened with complete and utter shock, as Zahra and Craig continue to laugh obnoxiously - eager to finish the story. Craig clutches his knees and his back falls, as the laughter starts to become too much. 

“I actually wish I was joking. But Craig really did smash the window.” Zahra continues to laugh heavily as she tells the story. “With a rock as well!” She exclaims, taking a quick sip out of her beer before leaning against the cupboard. 

Michelle gasps faintly, before allowing her lips to curve up into a smirk as she folds her arms in a mischievous manor. “Maybe you could do that the sorority some time.” She suggests with a devious grin and Raj eyes Michelle, a whistle escaping his lips.

“Damn. Michelle has joined the dark side! Make way!” Raj jokes, mimicking a worship action and humorously bowing to her as if she is a queen, which she definitely didn’t mind. 

Michelle giggles at Raj’s exaggerations and smiles devilishly, a glint of mischief in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something. “They definitely deserve it. I’ll hit them with their own heads, if I want to.” 

Craig chuckles loudly, picturing the scene in his mind. “Badass Meech is on the move!” He shouts, the echoes of their laughter blending with the atmosphere of the party. “Seriously though, I’ll get the rocks. Zahra can get the toilet paper. Raj can get the eggs. And Sean can get the...” Craig trails off, realising what he’d blurred out. 

Immediately, Michelle’s laughter dies and she frowns at the mention of Sean. Sure, she’s pissed at him but she can’t help but miss him at the same time. The group just may not be the same without him. He hasn’t shown up since he stormed out at the planning. Raj caught up to him but never managed to bring him back. Apparently, Sean claimed he needed space. Five hours later and for some reason he still needs space.

Regret fills Craig’s hazel eyes as he catches sight of Zahra scowling at him in annoyance. He knows he fucked up. Why the hell can’t he just shut up sometimes?

Raj pats Michelle on the back comfortingly, as she bows her head so she’s staring hopelessly at her knees. “It’s okay, Meech. Craig didn’t mean to make you to upset.” Raj assures, shooting Craig a shake of his head and causing Craig to release a heavy sigh, knowing that he’s done wrong. 

Michelle lifts her head and eyes Craig apologetically. “It’s not his fault. Sean just pisses me off. I just... can’t seem to get rid of him.” She sighs, exhaling sharply and fidgeting with her ombré hair and trying to stop tears from rising. 

Understandingly, Raj wraps Michelle in a hug and she immediately accepts it, appreciating all the support her friends was given her even with all these little signs of comfort. It just shows they care.

Zahra can’t help but feel guilty about all this. Michelle doesn’t deserve any of it. Hell, Sean doesn’t even deserve to be so in the dark. In the dark about how he feels about Michelle. He just can’t see it. He can’t see that she’s everything he’s ever gonna want and it’s obvious he still loves her. So why won’t he just admit it?

Michelle wipes her eyes, as she ends the hug with Raj and turns to face her friends. “Why so silent? I’m fine. Don’t let me ruin your night.” She assures, trying to force a smile but everyone can see right through her. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” Zahra questions, never realising she could have comforting intentions. It’s weird but also kinda nice. 

Suddenly, Michelle clasps her hands over her mouth and gulps as something itches up her throat. Noticing, Zahra raises her eyebrows, concern flooding her expression. Same goes for everyone else. 

“Michelle? What’s wrong?” Zahra asks in a rare concerned tone of hers, which she never uses. 

“Yeah, Meech. You don’t look well.” Craig chimes in, genuine confusion plastering his expression.

Something plays messily at Michelle’s throat and she can’t seem to pull it back down. She shakes her head quickly before running abruptly out of the room. 

Raj rises from his seat, an anxious look overtaking him as his features fall and his shoulders slump back. “Is she okay?” He asks in the way Raj does when he can’t help but care about everyone around him when they aren’t happy. He runs a hand through his black curly locks and sighs softly, furrowing his brows as well. 

Zahra’s gaze sheepishly falls to the floor and she knows she can’t lie. “I don’t know.” She admits, facepalming and exhaling sharply, as she feels the rare action of her nerves activating. 

“Sean’s definitely messing her up though, dudes.” Craig points out, folding his arms and leaning against the fridge, noticing all the worry on the faces of his friends. 

“Yeah. Should we check on her?” Raj questions, a hesitance in his tone. Usually, he’s so sure of himself and immediately wants to go to someone’s aid.

Zahra shakes her head. “I think she just wants to be alone right now. I say we respect that.” She urges, gathering herself and smoothing out her jet black hair - the worry fading from her face finally and causing her to release a sigh of relief. 

She catches sight of Craig shooting her a questioning look but she ignores him, focusing on Raj instead and the awkward conversation that is sure to come. 

“Do you think we should text Sean? Let him know what’s happening.” Raj wonders, obviously to reluctant to admit that may be the only way to fix whatever Michelle is going through. All those feelings may just about be cleared up. 

Zahra stays silent for a moment, thinking carefully about her answer. “Sean’s probably still pissed at us. Especially Craig.” Zahra replies, narrowing her eyes in Craig’s direction when she points out his name and wrong doing. 

“Woah. Woah. Woah. I-“ 

“Don’t try and talk your way out of this! You sided with Michelle and fucked up your friendship with Sean.” Zahra cuts him off and answers a little too bluntly, genuinely hurting Craig. Right in the heart too. 

An awkward silence takes place, especially between Zahra and Craig, both trying to process the entire situation and how everyone plays a part. Zahra, Craig and Raj are basically caught in the middle of all of this - struggling to pick a side and not really wanting to. Also, it’s impossible to hang out with both Michelle and Sean at the same time when all they do is fight and bicker with each other. Nobody wants to lose touch with them just because they’re being distant. They want everyone to just get the hell along.

Suddenly, Craig slams his drink on the counter, the hurt of Zahra’s words finally getting to the other side of his head and he can’t seem to accept that she’d really think that lowly of him. He’s not the guy that chooses sides. He’s not the guy that fucks everything up. At least he tries so hard not to be. Maybe she’s right though. Maybe he is the cause of all of this. And why it’s all happening. 

He stares at Zahra for a long moment, his eyes narrowed coldly. “Didn’t you’d be the one to say that to my face, Z. Really didn’t.” Craig admits, as he saunters out of the kitchen, leaving a trail of guilt in his wake. 

Zahra is hit by his words, as another unbearable silence takes place. Confusion is plastered over Raj’s place and he can’t seem to process what just happened. There’s a hint of shock in his dark brown eyes and he’s staring at Zahra as if she’s crazy, which is basically how she feels right now. Michelle running off first and now Craig.

Honestly, Zahra never really thought too much of Craig. He was just always there. With Sean. Michelle and everybody. They never really spoke but lately things have been different. They’re talking. They’re joking. They’re gossiping. They’re making banter. Hell, they’re having fun. Which Zahra is never able to have with a person. It’s just never been possible for someone like her. 

“Zahra, are you-“

“If you talk about Craig, I swear to god I’ll feed you to the goddamn wolves!” Zahra warns, interrupting Raj before he could even start and he staggers back, aware that was coming. 

“Okay. Calm down. I’m sorry.” Raj apologises, throwing his hands up in surrender and letting Zahra know that he’s really sorry. She nods, signalling that she forgives him. Another silence ignites and Raj is cautious about his next words. “I see something though. Between you and Craig. I really do.” Raj points out, a knowing smirk on his face and Zahra just exhales softly, a longing look in her eyes. No snarky response. No denial. No sarcasm. No slap in the face. Just a sigh. 

“Yeah, well... I did.” Zahra mutters under her breath before wandering out of the kitchen, an empty expression fixated on her face. 

Grace

As Grace finally manages to get a moment of peace, she takes a deep swig of her drink, her tongue tingling from the strong taste of the alcohol. She manages to make it out to the balcony and shut the door without being detected. All she hopes now is that no one else decides they need air. Who will though? It’s a college party.

Grace doesn’t know why she’s so weird about college parties. It’s just another social event and she’s been to plenty. Besides this is more of a gathering for no reason. Raj does a great job so it seems like a college party. All it really needs is beer and music. Then there you have it. A college party. 

Sighing softly, Grace leans over the railing, taking in the scenery and the view of the moonlight reflecting in the sky and off o the world. Everything seems so peaceful up there. No worries. No troubles. No patronising future. No pressure. Just freedom. 

Still, Grace can’t seem to get her mind off the video tape she watched and the fight she went through with Aleister, accidentally mentioning the father he doesn’t even know about. It’s crazy. She seems crazy. Aleister has always been known as isolated and alone and the one who keeps to himself. Sometimes people call him the kid with all the secrets. He definitely has some important ones. He has to know something about these dreams. 

It’s vital to figuring out the truth. 

Suddenly, the door to the balcony slides open, startling Grace and causing her to turn and face the figure that has decided to interrupt her. Her chestnut eyes immediately widen when her blurred vision makes it look like someone haunting. 

Olivia?! 

Phew. No. No. Grace is relieved that it’s not Olivia. It’s just someone who looks an awful lot like Olivia. A little too like Olivia. Her vision finally clears and fixes itself, allowing Grace to gain focus and figure out the true identity of the mysterious stranger. 

Wait. Estela Montoya?!

Estela just stands their awkwardly, not sure what to say. “Sorry. Didn’t realise there was anyone else out here.” She claims, figuring with the end of the jet black cocktail dress she’s wearing and she can definitely pull that off. “I can come back later if you want.” She assures, blinking a few times from a slight daze. 

“Oh no. It’s fine. Stay.” Grace replies, asking Estela to stay but not really sure why she did that. They’d never really spoken but they saw each other every day. Just a mere glimpse but it’s a look. Grace is always reading a book on a nearby bench while Estela jogs past, with her earphones in.

Grace has also spotted Estela in the visions. A mysterious, silent woman with justiciable intentions. She disappears sometimes and then suddenly returns. On the island, she’s a complete question mark when it comes down to it. One who struggles to trust and form her own family. 

Cautiously, Estela leans over the railing beside Grace with heavy footsteps. There’s a wary look in her eyes as she fixates her gaze on the sky. She looks lost, like she’s longing for something. Like there’s a distant future ahead of her. A solution she can’t quite grasp. 

Grace can’t help but skim over Estela as she hopelessly dreams at the sky. Curiosity floods Grace as she thinks back to the haunting video she watched and a mental picture of Olivia develops in her mind, causing her to shiver slightly. 

Noticing, Estela raises an eyebrow questioningly. “Are you cold?” She asks in a surprisingly polite tone. Estela has always been known as one with a temper who can’t control her anger once it comes. But she’s actually really kind and genuine. 

“No. I’m just... contemplating, you could say.” Grace replies, clutching her chest to calm the shivers and allowing her body to relax as Estela meets her eyes once more.

With a heavy sigh, Estela turns back to the view, Grace only just realising that there’s a flask of alcohol in the brunette’s hands. “That’s what everyone seems to do these days.” Estela huffs, taking a long sip out of her alcohol and fixing her gaze on the half-full moon, scowling slightly. 

“You having a bad night?” Grace almost accidentally says, regretting when she sees Estela’s head snap in her direction. 

“This a college party. I don’t even know I’m here.” Estela replies, exhaling sharply and chugging more of her drink. 

“Honestly... me neither.” 

Estela scoffs slightly, smirking in an unreadable manor. “You must be. Saw how you handled Aleister back there. That dude could use some sleep.” Estela seems kinda drunk, at least that is Grace’s first thought. But the more she ventures into her mind, she sees more of a troubled side to Estela. Like she’s holding something back.

Grace isn’t even offended when Estela mentions the situation with Aleister. “Yeah, well, he shouldn’t treat people the way he does.” 

Estela almost spits her drink out at the thought of the possibility of change for Aleister. “Someone like him could never change. He’s way too far into the dark now. You can’t find your way out of the darkness if you don’t have a light.” Estela mutters that last part, like it’s a memory she wants to forget but can’t shake. 

Intrigued, Grace eyes Estela curiously. “What’s that from?” 

Estela’s chestnut eyes snap up and she’s instantly confused. “What do you mean?” 

“That quote. I’ve heard it before. Who said it to you?” 

Estela furrows her brows for a moment, scanning Grace with a skeptical look. “Is that really any of your business?” She snaps, clearly irritated by Grace’s nosiness. 

“Sorry. I was just curious.” Grace assures, leaning back over the railing and starting towards the balcony door. If she stays out there, things will only get more awkward.

However, the more they talk. The more Estela starts to look and sound like Olivia. Only talking about the truth and always getting annoyed so easily. Not so easily trusting and prepared to do whatever it takes to save those she loves. Those were some of her traits on the island and she always left an image of Olivia in Grace’s mind.

Maybe they’re connected more than she thought.

Before Grace can leave, she hears Estela clear her throat and that causes her to stop in her tracks and swerve back sprint, coming face to face with an apologetic Estela who seems to have finally relented. 

“My mother taught me that quote.” Estela admits, dusting her dress like she’s dusting her nerves away. She’s more of an open book than before and that makes Grace happy. “Well, my real mother. The one I never knew.” She adds, her voice a mere whisper and Grace can barely catch her words. 

Curious, Grace can’t help but form a weak smile, showing how interested she is in this which surprises Estela to say the least. “Do you remember much about her?”

Estela sighs hesitantly, not sure if she should say much more. “Not really. I was told she left when I was a baby.” 

“Don’t you believe that?” Grace continues to bombard Estela with questions of her true mother, which is completely accidental, but she really wants these answers. 

With a sigh, Estela prepares her next answer like a puzzle piece. “If I believed that, then I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I’d be just as fake as my other bitch of a mom.” Estela scowls at the mention of her other mom, tightening her grip on her drink and putting a dent in the cup. Her free fist clenches and she pouts in annoyance. 

“You have another mom.” Grace simply states, her comment not really a question like everything else. 

“She’s not my mom.” Estela corrects, arching her eyebrows viciously. “She’s a tyrant. A moocher. A manipulative bitch. When she has a plan, she never fails to act on it. Especially the idea of keeping me away from my real mom. I don’t even have the will to call her mother anymore. She’s lucky to even be called Lila.” Once Estela finishes talking, Grace gasps at the mention a certain name. A name she never thought she’d hear in the real world.

Lila. That tour guide. Rourke’s servant. His slave. The one who kills for him. The one who would die for him. The one who shot Olivia right in the chest. She exists. In this world. On our earth. But why? What is her true purpose in these visions? She starts off as a guide and soon becomes an enemy. Something isn’t right. 

“Lila?” Grace reacts, not meaning to make her shock so obvious but can’t control it. Her mind was immediately messed up when Estela mentioned the tour guide’s simple yet so impactful in all the wrong ways name. 

Estela furrows her brows and folds her arms in a questioning manor, bewilderedness flooding through her dark brown eyes. “Grace? You okay?” 

Stunned, Grace staggers back, an explanation finally forming in her mind. It all makes sense now. It all adds up. All this time, the answer was right in front of her. The key to figuring it all out. All she had to do was get Estela on her side. She knows it’s gonna be difficult but when the truth is out it will all be worth it in the end. That’s all that matters. 

With a deep breath, Grace’s features relax as she prepares to change the direction of everything now and forever. The only she hopes is that she isn’t wrong. 

“...I know who your mother is.”

Quinn

“Honey, I really think you should come home.”

Exhaling softly, Quinn clutches her phone and lets her father’s words ring in her head a few times. She’s read those words a million times and every time there’s a voice in her telling her to deny every damn doubt they have. Now she may be running out of options. Out of choices. Eventually she may have to accept that she’s failed to survive. 

She’s leaning against the bathroom wall, her phone pressed against her ear as she eyes her reflection in the mirror as she listens closely to her worried father on the other end of the phone. 

Quinn has actually spent most of this party in the bathroom. Thankfully, it’s all starting to wind down so she may be able to escape the torture soon enough. She’s not supposed to be moving as much as she is. Her mother assures Quinn that she needs to start resting but deep down, Quinn knows she can’t give up. She still needs to live her life and shine on every opportunity that comes her way. 

She’s running out of things to lose. She running out of things to spare. She’s running out of time. She’s running away still. She knows it. She hasn’t really lived her life or shone on any opportunities that went her way. She feels useless and like she doesn’t belong here.

Hell, it might be better if time just go quicker.

Suddenly, Quinn loses track of time and find her father yelling into the phone, calling out to Quinn in a desperate tone. Like he thinks he lost her too soon.

“Quinn?! Quinn? Speak, honey. Please tell me you’re there.” 

Quinn feels a sharp stomach and she’s vomited a few times but overall, this is the best she’s felt. But she knows it won’t last. Life isn’t that kind. 

“I’m here, Dad.” She assures, her voice slightly strained from the pains in her stomach. 

There’s a relived sigh from the other end of the phone and a few faint whispers. “Oh thank god! Honey, don’t scare me like that!” There’s a firm hint in her father’s tone but overall, he’s still worried sick that one day, Quinn might just disappear and he won’t even know it.

That’s why he wants her to come home so badly. For her safety and her life. Even if it’s going to go either way. 

“Honey? Are you okay? How are you feeling? Have you thought about what I said?” Quinn’s dad bombards her with questions and she can’t help but sigh. This is all so repetitive. She feels like she’s had this conversation with him a million times. 

“I always do. And you know I can’t come home yet. I’m not ready.” Quinn says, a deep regret in her voice. She knows she has to go home. Its the best thing to do for her health but she doesn’t want to do. She wants to be free. Free of this illness. Free of this pain. These doubts. These regrets. These rules. The things she can and can’t do just because of her health. 

This is her only chance to be free. 

“Quinn. You need to know that your mother and I are so worried about you. This illness is holding you back and it’s always going to. It’s never gonna go away. So I want you to know that it’s okay to give up and jump back. Rest and just let the doctors do their best.” 

Slight annoyance rises in Quinn at her father’s unforgiving words. “The doctors always do their best, Dad, yet it’s still never good enough. Here I am. Still the poor little girl with a disease. The one can’t take care of herself. That’s what you see me as, isn’t it? I’m not a prop. I’m human. I can be independent. I don’t need any help.” 

Her heart is what’s talking right now but her mind waiting to sneak attack with an agreement. 

“Honey, you’re not a prop to us. You’re just... delicate.” 

“Delicate?!” Quinn reacts, almost tossing her phone at the wall but her held back, trying to keep her emotions in check. “You’re kidding me right? Did you not hear a word I just said? This is my life and I will choose how I spend it.” 

“Darling, we’re not trying to...”

“Save it.” Quinn cuts her father off and huffs angrily into the phone. “You don’t have to believe in me. You just have to trust me.” 

With those as her last words, Quinn quickly hangs up the phone, before her father is able to protest. She just can’t deal with this right now. She can’t deal with them. Or anything. Or anyone. This is getting ridiculous. Her life is becoming a massive waste of time. She has no reason to live it to the fullest, no matter what her dreams are. Maybe she should just end it. End it right there. 

It would take all the pain away and every single negative thing Quinn ever felt would be turned to dust. But she can’t. She can’t do that. There’s too much to learn. Too much to experience. And Quinn wants to hold off her parents’ grief for as long as possible. She’s gonna be the cause of their pain one day and that haunts her every day. 

What if she dies tomorrow and never gets to tell them goodbye or how she really feels. How much she’s gonna miss them. How much she loves them. How every memory with them she treasures every damn day of her life. 

It’s the only thing that keeps her going. 

Did she just make a huge mistake?

Jake 

Finally, the next day arrives and Jake already happens to be awake. Hell, he didn’t really get any sleep last night. Not just because of Logan but because of how restless his nights really are. Honestly, Jake never really sleeps and he has lost weight since he came to the USA. All his food is shoplifted, which doesn’t look good on his wanted status, and he sleeps on tacky benches every damn time. It’s the only place he’s hidden and somewhat safe. 

Since he was spotted on the news, he is surprised that the police still haven’t found him. Jake has been preparing for the day they would discover him in the alleyway or something. But no... nothing. You’d expect them to be searching every corner of Hartfeld but everything feels so uneventful and Jake just isn’t a prime suspect anymore. 

Or maybe he just doesn’t know it. 

They might be keeping everything on the down low, who knows? They’re the police. Full of secrets and cases that almost never get solved. Investigations that go on for years. There’s just no truth to him. Jake has never really believed in the justice system, even when his sister decided it was a good idea to become a cop. He supported her but he never really believed that what she was doing is right. In some way, its bullshit. Just an excuse to make a country even worse. 

As Jake lies on the mattress, Logan snuggled up against his chest, he stares emptily at the ceiling, contemplating harder than he ever had before. What the hell was he doing? Honestly, he has no idea. After a night of passion with his supposable wife. There’s still a million questions roaming around in his head, almost like their running away from him and not giving him a chance to ask them. 

Well, Logan isn’t really giving him a chance to ask them. She always stalls and refuses to answer, bringing up his promise almost every time. He can’t take it. She holding back too much. 

Stressed, Jake rolls Logan out of his arms stealthily and slides off the mattress, realising just how low down it is when he tries to get up. He spends about five minutes retrieving and putting on his clothes, before he realised that Logan is still wearing his jacket. She had slept in it, which is kinda cute, murmuring about how comfortable it is in her sleep. Throughout, Jake watched her sleep, noticing how radiant she looked, even when she was asleep. 

She’s fascinating. Still practically a mystery to his eyes. 

Smirking, Jake decides to let Logan wear the jacket, since he’s still sleeping. Instead, he attempts to slip into the kitchen, before accidentally knocking over a tacky... whatever the hell that is. Cursing under his breath, Jake rushes to pick the little piece of crap up, hoping he didn’t wake up. But it was too late.

Logan is already stirring awake and when he glances back at her, she’s propped up on the mattress, the khaki jacket barely covering her chest as she eyes Jake questioningly. 

“What are you doing?” Logan asks bluntly, her ocean eyes beaming lightly as she relives the memories from the night before. All Jake can do is furrow his brows, still skimming over Logan’s extremely sexy morning appearance. 

Platinum hair slightly tousled and ocean eyes watering from exhaustion. Hickeys plastered all over her, of course, Jake’s doing, and a few teeth marks on her lips from Jake biting down bit too hard or Logan biting down to stop from making too much noise. She still looks so damn beautiful. Is that even possible?

Jake rises to his feet awkwardly, leaving the unusual item on the floor and placing a hand behind his head. “Sorry. I was trying not to wake you.” He mutters, sheepishly letting his cerulean eyes fall to the floor. 

“...Were you leaving?” Logan dares to ask, an obvious hurt playing at her eyes.

To reassure her, Jake paces over to her and kisses her hard on the lips. It lingers for a moment before he pulls away. “Of course not, Princess. Just wanted to see if there is any food here.” He admits, planting one more kiss on her forehead. 

“Hey, I think there’s-“

Before Logan can finish speaking, there’s a deafening knock at the door, causing both Jake and Logan’s heads to swerve in that direction. Anxiousness plasters both expressions as they meet each other’s gaze, searching the other’s eyes for an idea on what they should do.

No one calls out from outside. There’s just a few repeated knocks that keep going and going. It’s obvious the intruder isn’t going to leave until the door is answered. 

Jake gestures for Logan to answer the door, pointing towards it and eyeing her expectantly. She scoffs, slightly offended. “You want me to answer?” She questions, her voice a mere whisper but the disbelief can easily be detected. 

Jake simply nods, unfazed by how insulted she is by it. He expects her to grasp on as to why he can’t answer. 

“I’m fucking naked!” Logan whispers again, slightly louder than intended and Jake just shrugs his shoulders, gesturing to her clothes. 

“Just throw some pants on and wear my jacket. Cool?” Jake suggests, a sly smirk on his face and Logan just rolls her eyes in response, quickly sliding off the bed and throwing her jeans back on. 

“Why can’t you answer by the way?” She questions, as she zips up the jeans.

“They might recognise me. I can’t go anywhere in his damn town. Now go quick. Get rid of them, Princess.” Jake hurries her out of the area where the mattress is and rushes into the bathroom to hide. That’s the only separate room in this dump of a trailer. 

Logan 

Exhaling softly, Logan gathers herself and reaches for the door handle, anxious to be face to face with whatever’s on the other side. It might be something dangerous or just someone passing by. 

The door swings open and Logan gasps at what she sees. Three police officers, dressed in the uniforms you’d expect one to wear, they even have to hats too. Suspicious looks plaster their expressions and they look skeptical of Logan, unsurprisingly. 

As Logan fixes her blurred vision, she instantly recognised the police officer in the front.

Rebecca?! 

Wearing an auburn haired braid, Rebecca stares blankly at Logan, clearly not aware of who she is and thank god for that. Her next words are what get Logan shaken up the most. 

“We’re here for Jake McKenzie.” She states simply and Logan tries to act natural and nonchalant, even though inside she’s screaming and crying, begging that they’ll give up and go away. Logan is even surprised that Rebecca, Jake’s own sister, would want to arrest him like this. 

“W-Who?” Logan tries to lie but she just ends up stuttering, only causing the officers to be more suspicious. 

“Look, lady. We don’t want any trouble. Just tell us where he is and we won’t touch you.” Rebecca informs her, almost like a compassionate threat - if that’s even a thing. Either way, Logan is not about to throw the love of her life to the wolves. Not today. 

“I don’t know any Jake McKenzie.” 

“Quit lying, Blondie. Tell us where he is.” 

“I told you. I don’t know!” Logan tries to lie again but is starting to think she should just stop talking altogether. 

Rebecca snarls, reaching for her handcuffs. “That’s it. You’re coming with me. 

Suddenly, footsteps can be heard from inside the trailer and immediately, Logan swerves around and locks eyes with Jake, who is slowly emerging from the bathroom. There’s a shock in his own and worry in hers. There’s a solemness in Jake’s expression, as he silently approaches his sister -  not as surprised to see her and Logan assumed he would be. He looks like he expected it to be honest. 

“Don’t touch her, Rebecca. Just take me.” Jake orders simply, a heavy sigh escaping as he tries to stand as still as possible. 

Logan is afraid. She’s never been more afraid in her life.

Jake

Jake continues to eye his sister blankly, waiting impatiently for her response. He heard the threat made to Logan and he refuses to let her take the fault for his stupid actions. This was his time. His time to pay for everything he didn’t even do but has to pay for it all anyway.

Even innocent people sometimes take the blame. 

There’s a hint of shock in his sister’s eyes and she contemplated hard for a moment, before retrieving her handcuffs from her belt. “Hands up, Jake.” Rebecca demands and Jake does as he’s told immediately, not able to afford to run anymore. 

He has to do it. He has to face this. No matter who he hurts. 

“Jake, what are you doing?” Logan’s innocent, desperate tone causes tears to rise in Jake’s eyes. He never cries but for some reason, this woman affects him like no one else can, even if he doesn’t remember her. Those memories are still there. He just can’t access them. 

He doesn’t dare face her. He can’t do it. He can’t stare at her directly in the eyes and say that this is truly what he wants. Really, he just wants to be with her but it’s too late. The cops finally caught up to him. 

“Goddammit, Jake! What the hell are you doing? What happened to wanting answers? What happened to... us?” Logan yells at him, desperate for him to just look at her but he still refuses. 

Rebecca starts pulling him out by the handcuffs but Jake forces himself  back for a moment of protest. “Don’t hold back, Jake, or your sentence will be worse.” Rebecca warns, not even acting like a sister right now and it does hurt Jake to see her as a stranger. 

He drops his voice a whisper so Logan can’t hear. “At least let me say goodbye, Becks.” Jake whispers, a rare pleading is used by him and Rebecca immediately knows he’s being genuine.

She leans away and moves to stand by the door. “One minute.” She states blankly, folding her arms in an impatient hug. 

Jake immediately paces towards Logan and tries his best to wrap her in a hug, careful to not get the handcuffs tangled in her hair. Sobs soaked her face and her sniffed with sadness from the scene before her. Jake knows she isn’t prepared to let him go and he hates that. She sees him as a different person. He means more to her than he really realises and really remembers. This must be killing her.

Momentarily, Logan breaks the hug, taking a long moment to take in Jake’s exterior and trying to create a mental picture in her mind. One she can cherish. “Jake... why are you doing this?” She questions, that really being the only thing she desperately wants to know. 

Jake sighs heavily, feeling tears rising in his own eyes. “I gotta pay the price for what I did, Logan. I’m sorry.” He lies, hoping she’ll just accept that he committed a crime, even if he didn’t. 

Logan shakes her head in denial. Of course she doesn’t believe it. “You didn’t do anything. Find a way to prove that.” She points out, knocking their foreheads together and tangling her hands in his sandy hair. 

“I can’t, Princess. I just can’t.” Jake mutters, desperate to stay beside Logan but he can’t. The police won’t take no for an answer anymore. He can’t fight this or run away. 

“But I... I can’t fucking lose you, Jake. I can’t. Not after everything. And I know you don’t remember everything but... this is so much harder for me than you’ll ever understand.” Logan trembles in his arms and Jake pulls her in for a hard kiss, more tender than before though and more passion drives Jake to make this kiss count. It may be the only thing that keeps him going for the next couple days.

Once they break away, Rebecca’s harsh tone interrupts the moment. “Minutes up. Come on, Jake.” She commands, ordering the other officers to grab Jake by his arms and obey, yanking Jake towards the door. 

“Forget about me, Lo. Move on with your life. I’m not worth it.” Jake assures, as he disappears out the trailer door, his voice fading as tears wreck Logan’s face.

“Wait!” Logan calls out and rushes outside, quickly cupping Jake’s face as he continues to be dragged away. They make it to the police car door and Logan has no other chance to say the words she’s about to say to him. 

“I love you.” Logan confesses one last time, planting a brief, soft kiss on Jake’s lips before pulling away, as one of the officers slams the car door shut. Right in Jake’s face. But he doesn’t notice. He’s too shaken from the words Logan just said. 

Those three words seem to ignite something in Jake, grasping a hidden file in his mind. A hidden file of memories. Memories he couldn’t access before. Memories of an island. La Huerta. Adventures. Killer guardians like crabs, sabertooth tigers, ice breathing foxes, a huge dinosaur, a colossal attic yeti and a dangerous sea monster. Memories of people winning a contest. Twelve college students earning the opportunity to attend a trip to La Huerta. Or Everett Rourke’s Land of the Puppets. Maybelline, Katniss, Pop Culture Petey, Steve Rogers, Ariel, Julio Child, Drax, Skrillex, Draco Malfoy, Short Stuff and... Princess! Princess, of course! His wife. His love. His princess. His fucking everything. The one he risked his life for every damn day. The one who reassured him when things went downhill. The one who helped him get back Mike. The one who taught him how to be an honest man. The one who promised to love him to the very end. 

He remembers. He remembers everything. He remembers her. He remembers the island. The Vaanti. Rourke. How it all ended. Everything.

Hope may have finally risen. Now may be the chance to fix things. 

But when he opens his eyes, she’s gone. And he’s already on the road, on his way to the place that haunted him for years.

What the hell is he gonna do?

[thanksariel]

Okay, so...

It’s last year, the summer of 2016, when I am trolling Instagram like I did and still do. I’m having a fine and dandy time and then I see something weird, a post by @saverockanroll. It’s the following image.

(Photo #1)

I find this very weird and go on my way, finding this peculiar thing a few months later. The thing that Patrick was drawing was on the back of the “Youngbloods” jacket. Y’know, this one. 

(Photo #2)

(Photo #3)

So I push that aside because that’s where it’s got to be from, right?

Wrong.

So, now it’s the summer of 2017 and me and my friend (hello!) have had this weird fixation on a certain album from 05′. That certain album? No other than Fall Out Boy’s From Under The Cork Tree. Now, you may think I’m a little crazy but... Well, here’s the front of the From Under The Cork Tree booklet. 

(Photo #4)

Oh, and the back of that said booklet? Oh, no other than...

(Photo #5) 

Now I’m thinking this just must be a coincidence, the fact that the album art from  But, come on. Is anything a coincidence with Fall Out Boy?

Now, I’d like to brush up on your From Under The Cork Tree knowledge. There’s a lyric, in “XO”, that goes as the following...

“.. Through the keyhole I watched you dress, kiss and tell,”

Now if that doesn't make you think “weird”, lemme tell you some keyhole symbolism. 

“Dreaming of a keyhole suggests that you should now be open to a big change in your life, personality, and new beginnings.” via auntyflo.com (I would look more into this website if I were you, really interesting.)

“Dreaming about a keyhole could be representative of sex that is transforming and will completely open your life to new possibilities.” via dreamstop.com

“Peeking through a keyhole or other opening can mean:...  You feel like exploring new areas or learning new things.” via thecuriousdreamer.com

So, basically, you’re learning new shit about yourself. Sex, personality, you know, that fun stuff of growing up. 

Anyways, let’s get a little gay here, yes?

Let’s talk about our wonderful ad beloved song from From Under The Cork Tree called “Sugar, We’re Goin Down”. 

In the song, Patrick sings, “Watching you two from the closet, wishing to be the friction in your jeans”, right?

In the booklet it’s different. It says “His jeans”. Don’t believe me? Here.

(Photo #6)

Want me to zone in on the lyric? Here.

(Photo #7)

But this isn’t the only lyric that’s different from the song to the booklet in  From Under The Cork Tree.

In “Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued”, Patrick sings, “...We’re friends when you’re on your knees,” but in the booklet, it says “We’re good friends only when you’re on your knees,”.

Still don’t believe me?

(Photo #8)

And zoom...

(Photo #9)

Now I know this is only a minor change, but it goes with a weird plot I have in my mind. 

Now that’s all it for now. I can explain what this all means if you guys want.

Oh and also? At the end it says “All Music by Patrick Stump and Fall Out Boy. All lyrics by Pete Wentz.”

Here.

(Photo #10)

[3one3]

The Sequel - 848

10 Kisses

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“Can you stop stuffing the melon in for a second and make a nice face?”

“I guess.”

“Say cheeeeeese.”

“Omnomnomnomcheese.”

“Child.”

“Lemme see the picture.”

“Eh?”

“Boat life suits you, Prinzessin. You look amazing. No joking. Look at your eyes!”

I actually thought he looks better than me, Christina mused about her selfie. She was sitting between André’s legs on a lounger, having a post-dive snack, and she wanted a picture because she thought her hair probably looked pretty great. It was half-dry and fully salty, which made for some amazing texture. She felt like she’d achieved by accident that which stylists and girls the world over spend hours of frustration trying to create with tools, techniques, and product combinations. Her partner stopped eating his fruit long enough to “nom” at her neck for the camera instead of just smiling, which was the expression she was asking for. The resulting shot was much sweeter than one with matching smiles would have been. His hair was fully dry and also fully salty, and fully crazy. He trimmed his beard a little that morning, as promised. He’d been in the sun enough to glow. His non-existent lips looked really sexy on her skin, and also somehow endearing. She didn’t even really look at her own image until he pointed out her eyes, which did look pretty special despite the sun. The rest of her upper body looked pretty amazing in a black halter-top bikini too, the player thought as he continued viewing the photo over her shoulder. It was definitely his favorite bathing suit top of all the many he’d seen her wear in recent days.

“You look very in love with me, yeah?” she smirked.

“Yeah, very.” André smooched her cheek and went back to his fruit salad. “Do you know that Mausi is feeding grapes to the dogs right now?”

“They can have grapes,” the rider shrugged. She looked up from her phone to check on their son, who was sitting on a towel not far from the lounger with his bucket of Animal Planet plastic sea creatures. There was an Orca, Hammerhead and Great White sharks, a dolphin, Baleen, Humpback, and Blue whales, plus pink coral and some rocks. Christina filled the clear plastic container with water for him so he could put the toys in there and make them “swim”. As long as Spencer and Lucky were eating grapes, not whales, then everything was fine.

“Should we bring them ashore with us so they can piss on dry land for a change?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure we can bring them into shops and stuff but what would we do with them when we go to the spa?”

“Send them for a walk with Mausi and Espen.”

The rider shrugged and went back to editing her picture for Instagram. Espen was sound asleep on the next chaise lounge, so there was no asking her how she felt about that idea. The whole family was heading to St. Tropez for some afternoon exploring, and then Mom and Dad had a spa appointment for differing treatments and some manicure and pedicure action ahead of dinner for two at a very old, very French estate a bit away from the water. They’d had nearly all their meals with an ocean view for days- even longer for Christina- so André wanted a different atmosphere to go with his Provencal cuisine. And it had to be cuisine. He wanted to take his girl somewhere truly special, and to make it an occasion. There was no particular reason for that desire, other than habit. When they lived in London, an “occasion” happened about every week. The restaurant he picked was once a favorite of Brigitte Bardot. He didn’t know the significance of the name when he read it on the website, but it rang some bells when he Googled it. His dining companion had definitely talked of her before, he was sure.

“Mommy!”

“What?” she asked absently while selecting the proper heart emoji for her post. Lukas shouted her name exactly half the time he said it, so there was no reason to think anything was wrong with him.

“Up.” He wanted to sit on the lounger. It was just tall enough to put him off. He probably could have managed to climb up there, but sometimes he showed a remarkable sense of self-preservation and avoided iffy endeavors. Christina wished he would embrace that impulse more often when his questionable idea involved becoming filthy. Those chances, he always took. She posted the picture and leaned over to give him a lift. He had a shark to give her. “Here, Mommy. For you.”

“Thank you, Munchkin. What is this?”

“It’s a shark,” André stage-whispered behind her.

“Shark!” his son smiled. It was unclear whether he knew the answer or needed the reminder.

“How do sharks swim?” André asked. Lukas held his hands together like a fin on top of his head. His mom congratulated him on getting it right, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Spencer hopped up onto the lounger next to him to see if he was missing anything. The little boy gave him a kiss just like the one he’d just received. Spencer licked his face in return. “I should stop eating this. We’re having lunch in town.”

“First we have to get to town. We should tell Captain Theo we’re ready to get going, no?” the bronzed woman in the bikini suggested. “They need to put these chairs away and stuff. It takes a little while to get this stupid boat moving.”

“Aren’t we close enough to the port that we can just use the motor to get there?”

“I dunno. I’ll go ask. Who wants to go steer the boat?” she asked in her Lukas-only voice, which delighted her tiny blonde. He held his hands up, wanting to be carried to the bridge. He’s so smart to know he can’t walk there on his own, she thought. He’s used to going to the fly bridge to steer. He can’t do the stairs yet. I actually meant the inside-bridge, down the hall. He could manage that. It would take 10 minutes, but, still. Anyway. “Up you get.” Lukas got a hug before he was installed on her hip for the short walk inside. Her phone rang while she was gone. It was Natasha. André decided to answer it for her.

“Hello, Chris’ phone.”

“André?”

“Speaking.”

“Heyyyy!”

“Hey,” he smiled. “How are you? Is Eden being a lazy bitch?”

“I’m great! And yes, he is. He’s got the whole family waiting on him. How are you all? How is the boat?” Natasha was genuinely excited to talk to him, and he was kind of happy to talk to her too. He missed the Hazards.

“We’re pretty well. The boat is a blessing. Don’t tell Chris, but I thank her dad every day,” the BVB man sniggered. “This is the best wedding present in the history of wedding presents. We’re having so much fun, and Lukas can do more things now and enjoy it more now that he’s a little older than the first time.”

“She sent me a blog post the other night about how she was staying on the boat during the horse show. Whoever wrote it thought it was the most fab and glam thing to ever happen to horse showing,” Natasha laughed back. “It was almost like a gossip piece, but with admiration. Naturally Chris hated it. She sent it to me with a comment like, “Ugh can I live?” There was a great picture of her sitting on a sun lounger in breeches and boots and a bikini top, and a sun hat over her face. I think it’s from an ad.”

“The promoter for the official after party in Monte Carlo set it up for their Instagram, as like the invite to the party. She didn’t really want to do it but I think Juan talked her into it. We get to go to the party for free now or something. You guys should come!” For real, Chris would love it, André thought after the light bulb went on. “What are you doing next week? Bring the kids to Monte Carlo! We have plenty of room, and the kids would love the jumping. We can get an extra chair for Eden’s foot.”

“That sounds like fun but we have plans. Chris made the same pitch. I tried to figure out how to at least stop there for a night, but we’ll be in Ibiza with Thorgan and Marie. I was actually just calling to tell her that we’ll be there long enough to make it so we can’t come to the show and short enough that I won’t still be there for the concert she wants to go to.” The Belgian woman sounded disappointed and sympathetic, and the guy on the other end of the line felt disappointed to, and sympathetic in a different kind of way. She never gets to have real fun with her friends, he thought, meaning Christina. Other girls go away with their girlfriends all the time. Now Chris doesn’t even get to see her best girlfriend. Forget taking holidays together. This is probably half the reason she’s still so close to Juan. He knew that last thought was probably deliberately naive. Living in paradise made it easy to ignore reality though. “Is she around, or is she teaching Lukas how to snorkel or something?”

“Yeah, she’s right here. Hang on.” André handed the iPhone in the Givenchy star case off to a confused looking rider when she returned from her trip to see the captain. “Nat,” he supplied.

The rider put her tiny-swim-trunk-wearing little passenger down to resume playing with his toys, and then hurried excitedly toward the front of the boat to chat with her friend. It was the first non-work call taken in days, and she was clearly delighted about it. Georgina appeared a half-minute later to collect the dishes and forks from snack time and let everyone know that they’d be getting underway soon, on motor power, as the player suspected. Lilly XO couldn’t travel anywhere fast on her engines, by design, but they didn’t have far to go. Using engine power meant nothing needed to be packed up and secured, including the loungers, or any nannies sleeping on them.

“Daddy, take this one,” Lukas ordered as soon as he got back to his plastic cylinder of floating sea creatures. He plucked the dolphin out and held it out for his father- an invitation to come play with him. The big Schü moved down to the small Schü’s towel and sat Indian-style so he could reach into the container with his dolphin and chase Lukas’ killer whale.

“How many kisses have you given Mommy today?” he asked, harkening back to a conversation that had on Monday on the way to the harbor in Cannes. André instructed his son to kiss Christina 10 times per day, because 10 was the highest he could count. Usually he couldn’t even remember past 7, so it was still a bit of a stretch. I want to see if he remembers that we talked about this. Firstly, Prinzessin needs Mausi kisses the way I need Prinzessin kisses. I’m pretty sure she lights up a little every single time he gives her an unprompted kiss. Secondly, Mama said to give him long term projects or goals just to see if he’s able to remember it day to day, or like, have it in the back of his mind. He looks like he’s thinking it over, the player laughed inside while he studied the little boy, who was squinting into the water with concentration and no longer moving his whale around.

“Four.” Lukas held up three fingers with a great sense of surety. His dad helped him unfold another finger to get the correct amount.

“So you need to give her 6 more. How many fingers is 6?”

“One?” He opened his palm all the way and appeared less certain about that quantity than the first.

“What comes after four? One, two, three, four...”

“Five!”

“So how many fingers is 6?”

“This?” Lukas added the pointer from his right hand to the 5 digits from the left, and André congratulated him and gave him a high-five.

“What do you have to do 6 more times?” I should just verify he still knows what we’re talking about here.

“Kiss Mommy. You kiss Mommy too. How many?”

“I’m trying to kiss Mommy more than 10 times. I’m trying to kiss her a number you don’t even know yet.”

“What kind?”

“A big number!”

“Mommy!” Lukas let go of his black and white whale as soon as Christina reappeared, and ran to her with his arms up so that she might pick him up.

“Whatsammatter?” she questioned, glancing from child to husband with furrowed brows.

“Kiss.” Her son stuck his face out to smooch her cheek as he arrived at the necessary height. She got two kisses in close succession, and then he stopped to hold out his fingers and check with Daddy, who counted and held up the rest of the fingers to get to 6. Christina got all of the affection she was owed.

“What is this about?” she laughed.

“None of your business,” André replied, shaking his head.

“Mkay. Are we moving?” The second furrowing of her brows was accompanied by a glance to her right, toward the water. She heard the terribly inorganic sound of the twin motors.

“No but the engines are running. We’re leaving momentarily.”

“I invited Nat to Monaco and Ibiza but she can’t come.” Her questioning expression turned into a turned-over-lip pout, and though comical, it pulled on her partner’s heartstrings. Her inability to prevent her Marc Jacobs sandals from rubbing holes between her toes no matter what tape and Band-Aid solutions she trialed didn’t garner much sympathy. Things relating to her friendships did. He felt responsible for pulling the girls apart.

“Isn’t she going to be available when the season starts and Eden still can’t play but the rest of his brothers are playing and thus not available for vacations? Maybe you two could do something then,” he suggested.

“I’ll be in Tokyo, hopefully.”

André nodded and then asked Lukas to come back and play with him. He didn’t want to discuss the Olympics unless Christina expressly invited a conversation, and even then, he would follow her lead in terms of parameters. The prospect of saying the wrong thing, or asking the wrong question, and kicking off World War III was real, and terrifying. Things didn’t feel so fragile between them anymore that he needed to worry about every word, but if anything was worthy of caution it was the Olympic games. Even just his nod inspired second-guessing. He worried she would think he forgot about the Olympics because it wasn’t important to him and he didn’t care that it was important to her, or that he assumed she wouldn’t make the team. The star rider didn’t seem bothered. She lay on the lounger and reapplied sunscreen on her face.

I’ve been a professional athlete for more years of my life than not, and I still think it’s kind of weird that that girl- that one over there trying to get sun cream out of her eye- could not only be an Olympian but also a medal winner, he thought. The Olympics are different. It’s not like winning a World Cup. There are actually people who don’t care about football. Almost everyone loves the Olympics, and watches, or follows the story lines. People get overly nationalistic about it, even. There are way more people in the world who get to be Olympians than get to play in a World Cup, and most of them are completely unknown outside of their sports. Everyone hears about the top people in the popular sports though. They become characters in a two-week soap opera. I can’t put Chris in that context. I just don’t see it. I don’t think I could know someone like that. It’s weird. It’s weird to think it’s going to be my wife. Maybe it’s because I don’t really see in her the qualities I think I see in other top people. She doesn’t have an enormous personality like them. I think they only wear athletic clothes and look so out of place and awkward in regular clothes. She’s just...a regular person. Of course she has the qualities of a successful athlete- she is tough, determined, dedicated, does everything to get better, needs to win...but there is just something...I don’t know. It’s going to be so weird to watch this unfold. And I’m so nervous for her, but I can’t say that.

“Babe, can you find a napkin or something to dip in my water? I got sunscreen in my eye and it stings.”

“Yes, Prinzessin.” I rest my case.

Several hours later, after shopping, sightseeing, massaging, leg treatments, nail polish, and a lovely dinner, Christina brought up the only other topic André didn’t want to talk about. They went for a stroll along the 500m long jetty separating the two sections of the port from the gulf. It was a beautiful walk, he thought, until she changed the subject. There was a nice breeze that picked up the little pieces of hair that had come loose from her fishtail braid. There was enough light to see that her eyes had turned a particularly tropical blue, set off by the canary yellow little two-tiered silk shift she had on. Her colorful Hermès bangles made a pleasing jangle sound when their hands, linked together casually, swayed between them. Her cork wedges were tall enough that he could smell the perfume on her neck. Not a single other human marred the view or privacy.

“I just...I want to let you know that...I did have a really great week with him, and everything did seem to come together the right way with riding and stuff, and yeah, I did wonder a little bit if it was because of him, but now I’m sure it’s not,” she explained after she asked if it was okay to talk about the Spaniard for a minute.

“Oh?” Andre’s response was flat and borderline disinterested, but she knew it was just irritation.

“Yeah,” she nodded, squeezing his hand a little. “I still feel...normal,” the rider added with extra emphasis. “I don’t revert to doom and gloom every time I have nothing specific to think about like I used to. I don’t have this constant feeling like something is off, or missing. I think, like...my conscience is relaxed...or something. It’s hard to explain.” Her eyes stayed mostly on her Tiffany blue toe nails as they walked along the concrete with calm water and boats of all shapes and sizes on one side and slightly more active-looking seas on the other. There was a storm approaching, a few hours away yet, and the water foretold it as much as the clouds moving quickly by the moon. That was the primary reason Lilly XO was docked in port instead of moored offshore. Before that conversation, she’d been thinking about how it only took 6 years to “train” André to shorten his walk alongside her, and slow it when she wore heels.

“Okay.” He was still somewhat noncommittal about her testimony, mostly because he was trying to figure out how to take it. Is she telling me this because it’s true, or because she feels guilty and wants me to think Juan and I are equals or something? Why would you bring this up now, after such a wonderful evening?

“I’m trying to tell you you make me happy, idiot,” Christina tutted. “You could at least smile.”

“Is that really what you’re trying to say though?” he asked quickly in response to her lighthearted ribbing. “A few days on the boat together and all of a sudden the Happy Place thing is in effect again? Is that even real? Everything is easy on vacation.”

“No it isn’t! We’ve had vacation together and it has not been easy. And yes, that is really what I’m trying to say, and yes it’s real. Babe,” the expat snorted through her nose, frustration building. “I’m telling you I’m happy. Can’t you...react better?”

“I’m happy you’re happy, Prinzessin.” André let go of her hand to put his arm around her shoulders instead, which felt impersonal to her. He didn’t really do shoulders. He did arm-around-the-neck-to-pull-you-close. “I just don’t understand what’s different except that you were alone in horse show paradise with Juan long enough to get over the things that have troubled you, and we’ve avoided all difficult conversations long enough to maybe get over the things that have troubled us. It doesn’t make me feel good that you needed someone else. I accept that, but it isn’t satisfying.”

“Well I can’t do anything about that, and I don’t see it that way anyway.”

“I know.” A top-of-the-head kiss did little to change how either of them felt. Christina thought she was telling her husband something that would please him, and reassure him. All André heard was that his ex-teammate fixed everything- that he had the magic healing power to repair his girl’s soul or something similar and set everything right for her so that she could be happy in the various avenues of her life.

They got back to the beginning of the quay, where the empty street joined the packed street. The one that snaked around the edge of the old basin was lined with quaint, charming little cafes with patrons spilling outside in front of the pastel building fronts. There was a kind of Old World feeling about the area that the footballer really enjoyed. He was going to suggest they pick a random establishment to check out and grab one less glass of wine, or a cocktail, but by the time he got to the end of the walk he wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted anymore. Lilly XO was back the other way. They’d already walked past her. She was tied up adjacent to the quay because it was the only place she fit. Unlike the other ports they visited, St. Tropez was hosting more sailboats than superyachts. Most of them were much smaller than Christina’s. He stopped them both to avoid a rogue and likely intoxicated scooter driver, and then lingered in indecision about which way to go- onward, toward a nightcap, or back from whence he came, to wind down onboard.

“Do you want to keep walking?” his wife asked when his standing still became weird and awkward.

“I dunno. Do you want a drink or something, or should we head back?”

“I would like a drink, but only if you’re gonna be charming and flirty, and not quiet and pensive.” Christina winked up at him and stepped out from under his arm to right the dainty chain on which her purse hung from her shoulder. Much to her disappointment, she didn’t receive a return wink, or even a smile. Her face fell. “Please, boyfriend. I want to have fun with you. I have been having fun with you. Don’t think too hard. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“You’re so funny.”

“You’re so handsome.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“That is patently untrue.”

“Give it your best shot.”

[bashkingstcn]

ayoo petals its vee u cant see me but i just stuck my tongue out and did that surfer hand thing you know the one anyways lemme formally introduce you to my beautiful garbage child, my bitter winter baby, sweet sinnamonroll sebaestian aka bash kingston who does literally anything but put the ‘fun’ in dysfunctional. this is long as heckie & i apologise but also not really.. ily xo :* 

tw; emotional abuse, tw; pain, tw; dickiness.

+ meet bash kingston, the oldest of the kingston clan and perhaps the most bitter, there was a time when his life was normal and happy and fulfilled. but that was back when he was a child and his parents had a functional marriage. the dysfunction started when bash was just seven years of age when his father was revealed to be rather emotionally abusive. the older kingston was always very hard on bash, holding him to an impossible standard and when bash failed to meet it, he would get berated and poked at. this would occur in private so not even his siblings or mother had even an inkling of the reality the young boy faced. 

+ things worsened when bash was thirteen and walked in on his dad with a woman half his age. he told bash awful things in order to make sure he wouldn't tell his mother the truth. bash knew even then that his mother, an accomplished lawyer, would leave his dad ( a lowly college professor ) if the truth was to ever come out.

 + for awhile, bash was terrified of his father. not for himself, but for what he'd do to his younger siblings. he became fiercely protective of them taking the brunt of kingston sr's harshness so the others would grow up relatively unscathed. while the hatred for his father consumed him, he kept the man's secrets. this was until he tried to hurt one of his younger siblings which was when he broke the news to his mother. the divorce was a shit storm and throughout it was discovered that not only had mr. kingston cheated on his wife he'd embezzled money, taken out fraud accounts & opened up a number of shady weapons dealings in the city. he was chucked into jail and for the foreseeable future bash could breathe knowing his father was rotting away.

+ with his dad out of the picture, bash thought he would have some normalcy in his life. he'd be able to do things most normal twenty somethings did but he hadn't expected his mother to start relying on him so much. she kept calling him the man of the house and again bash being the good son he was stepped up. figuring that once she'd settled after the divorce he'd go back to pursuing what he wanted to do ( even though he had no idea what that was ). then the comet happened and his life changed forever. he woke up with the power to manipulate fire, and worse still.. his father was free. 

 + he became the prodigal son in the fireflies with his mother as one of the prominent leaders. he was her second and proud to represent the promethean cause ( but also had a petty desire to stick it to their father, the leader of the reapers ). losing his younger brother winn to the other side was the sort of devastation that bash wasn't prepared for. he was convinced that his father was using the same tactics of emotional blackmail on winn. this made him very passionate towards the cause. while he was all for peace, he didn't believe it had a place in the midst of an already brutal war between the reapers and fireflies. he became the secret undertaker for the fireflies doing things they couldn't publicly do to keep the cause running. he has blood on his hands and he's willingly assassinated a number of reaper threats in the past year and a half. however, no one knows about this except his mother. to the world, he's just a misanthropic bartender.

+ bash carries a huge chip on his shoulder, because he's never been allowed to be normal. but his defining trait is the love he has for his siblings. his twin sawyer is the one he worries about the most, he believes her over-inflated pacifism is going to get her killed one of these days. he treats sloane less like his sister and more like his child and is fiercely protective of her. and he sees so much of himself in winn it borderline freaks him out. he does what he has to, to keep them safe. he's also rather dry, sarcastic, and full of snarky wit. some people may characterise him as a grump but there are times he's able to joke around and see the levity in things. he may not have had the drive ambition wise to a typical career, but he rather enjoys music. music is how he mellows out and calms himself when the world feels frantic. he feels like if he was allowed to have a normal life he'd probably gravitate towards something in the music industry. but that's a shadow of a thing he'll never have. 

 + romantically, he's never really been in love? never had the time or the bother to care for someone intensely. sometimes when he's bored he'll find comfort with a girl or he'll flirt with a pretty face. but that's really about it?

also i was going to do a connections section but then i got lazy and didn’t so hmu for plots!!

[jvckscns-blog]

( MAX IRONS, 29, HE/HIM. ) ✘ oh, them? that’s just JACKSON PRESCOTT. i believe they’re working as an ELECTRICIAN at Life After, and have been with the compound HARDLY A DAY. you didn’t hear this from me but i hear they can be pretty CREDULOUS and IMPULSIVE. but their friends would beg to differ, saying they are MAGNANIMOUS and INNOVATIVE. i wouldn’t be so sure, though, i’ll just have to see for myself.

THE LIFE & TIMES OF JACK PRESCOTT

our little lad here was born middle child to an older brother and sister, and two younger sisters; twins. though they weren't living the easy-breezy lifestyle ( both parents working relentlessly to keep their family fed, clothed and sheltered ), they were all happy and thankful bc ~~hella cliche~~ they had each other.

when news first spread of the virus, jack was just at the cusp of his twelfth birthday. with there being quite an age difference between himself and his two older siblings, they had already flown the prescott coop to begin a new chapter of their lives, thus resulting in the family eventually losing contact with the older prescott sibs as the virus worsened, spreading rapidly. they were(are) presumably dead.

with the three remaining siblings in tow, his parents gathered them together with the family one house over, jack and his siblings having practically been raised alongside the kids next door. packing up what they could in the two family vans, they headed out on the road to nowhere in particular, frantically searching for a safe haven away from whatever the hell was happening around them.

fastforward several years and a fifteen year old jack was left travelling with only his mom, one of the twins, the father of the other family and their daughter - the others had been attacked and lost to the creatures the virus controlled. while the remaining lot of them had developed sensible survival tactics, they were growing desperate without a source of water or edible food. it seemed that it was only a matter of time before dehydration or starvation would turn them all, until they fortunately crossed paths with another, more established group.

his small group ran with this other group for the next few years to come, doing his part in making sure they continued to thrive as best as he could bc he honestly didn't have a clue as to how he could ever repay their kindness (since they lit saved his and his fam's lives) in any other way shape or form. it seemed all was as good as it possibly could be in an apocalyptic world, that is until he met her.

sam joined the larger group with a few people of her own, just as he had a few years ago, and jack (being the kindhearted fella he is) welcomed them with open arms. although he did what he could to help with the newcomers settling in, he obviously took a liking to sam immediately, despite her carefully guarded demeanor, and eventually managed to wiggle his way into her heart just as she had so unknowingly yet easily done.

the next six years were spent in (almost) total bliss. with disregards to the fact that the world as they knew it was coming to / had come to an end, jack hadn't felt such an overwhelming swell of happiness since he was a child. overcoming whatever obstacle was thrown at them always seemed possible with her by his side, a fiery purpose reflected in those brown irises of hers every time he locked gaze and he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this girl, however long that would be.

with the aid of their little community, a service was conducted, jack and sam bonded for life with promises that words could hardly translate with true justification from their beating hearts. he honestly believed nothing could separate the two of them, that his last dying breath would be released before he ever let anything or anyone divide them. he was foolish.

infected soon infiltrated their camp, demolishing their safe haven and causing the group to scatter. though jack had caught glimpse of her from afar, the few people surrounding him physically prevented jack from going after her, knowing all too well that there was no way he'd make it through the hoard, and so he ran with them. he lost sam that day.

he was an absolute wreck for days following the traumatic event, the few he'd escaped with all but carrying him from one place to the next, until one of them gave jack a good wake up call. he was needed here, now, with them. there was no going back in time to change what he could to take his wife to safety with him. another loved one lost, but he wouldn't dare let her be lost in vain. so he collected himself as best as he could if only to survive and to help others survive.

five years later, there were three from the community; jack and two others. exhausted, on edge, and barely eating enough to survive, they crossed paths with members from life after. the initial meeting was vigilant, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife, but fortunately it ended with jack and his drifters being welcomed into this sensationally fully-functioning community where he's now just settling in.

THE MAN IN THE MIRROR

alright so personality wise, jack is a lil more roughened around the edges, given the crazy shit (but who isn't amiright lolol). HOWEVER he's still the generous, nurturing lil nerd he's always been, always looking for the good in ppl rather than the danger bc he believes in being humane above all else, especially since a lot of other ppl are just.....out for themselves u feel. he just wants to help ppl and he believes that if kindness is shown more than not, it will be more likely passed around and the goOD OF HUMANITY WILL THRIVE.

he's just a precious pup alright but more....dog now. like a golden retriever?? idfk he's a good dog until u take advantage of his kindness or fuck with his loved ones, then he gets ugly .. BUT LET ME BE CLEAR HERE: that rarely ever happens bc ~~again like a broken record~~ he believes in being good and all that sap.

he's a super workaholic too bc 1) helping others 4ever and 2) keeping himself busy is A+ since he doesn't like and/or want to think abt all the fucked up shit that's gone down. i mean if nobody reminds him to take breaks otherwise, this guy will literally (maybe not so literally) work his hands to the bone if he doesn't pass out from exhaustion first.

BEHIND THE MASK

now onto the part ik y'all have been waitin for.... B) lmao jkjk but heLO i'm cait in the land of mst and i'm SUPER FCKIN STOKED to be here ?? i just can't believe i was so lucky to stumble up on this work of gold and snag a hella wc so, uh, yah!! idk how to end this sdjohfuidgsd but if anyone would like to plot a few things out with my guy here, that would b swell! he's just newly arrived to life after like lit....hasn't even been around a full day yet so i mean we could 100% just go with the flow of things but if there's anything specific u wanna plot out, lemme know my pals xo

[harley-quinnn]

Princess of Gotham

Joker x Reader x Harley

Prompt: Can u pls write something where Harley and the joker fight over the reader thanks

{A/N} I wasn’t sure if you meant in a romantic way or not, so I went with romantic. If you thought of another way don’t hesitate to let me know! I’ll write another one for you! xo Harley

Warnings: Some slight smut.

Masterlist | Requests

“C’mon puddin’, lemme get a turn with her! Ya always get ta have all tha fun!” Harley whines from the office. 

J was sitting down at his desk planning the week out for the two of you- a private island vacation for a change, courtesy of the man he killed just days ago. He knew you were dying to get out and relax, and for once decided to be thoughtful before you decided to skip out on him all together. You awkwardly sit on the couch in the large living room, gazing out at the beautiful penthouse view. Lights flickered on and off throughout the buildings and for a moment, you wondered what might be going on in another apartment. 

“Harley, doll, what did I tell ya about tryin’ to dishevel daddy’s plans…” The tone in his voice was stern, annoyed with Harley. You could tell this would not bode well for her if she carried on.

“It’s just not fair Mistah J, I wanna take her out. Dancin’ or somethin’! She’s tired’a killin’ people for laughs, ya can tell! Just look at her!”

And so she carried on as usual, cruisin’ for a bruisin’.

The corners of your mouth automatically pull into a questioning frown. Did I really look that upset? It wasn’t that you were upset with murders and heists, really. You just felt stressed between them on occasion. They both have a thing for you, and you’re still adjusting to the lunacy that comes with that. Had someone asked you a few months ago if you’d have been in a love triangle like this, you’d have laughed and denied it wholeheartedly. But after a run in with them on a dark street, you found yourself to be the King and Queen of Gotham’s princess. 

“That is exactly what I’m trying to do,” he growls, and you can just about hear his eyes rolling from the other room. 

Suddenly, you hear a glass break, causing you to jolt out of the haze you had mentally put yourself into. You’re already picturing J’s amber liquid flowing across the opulent hardwood flooring in the office. You keep your eyes on the window, pretending to be utterly distracted as you hear heavy footsteps coming closer to you and a deep roar following behind it as you’re suddenly swept up into the blondes hands and being tugged out of the penthouse. 

“Harley.. Maybe we should just stay in, all three of us! You know, it’ll be easier, more laid bac-”

“Forget about it sugar! We’re goin’ out! I don’t care what Mistah J has ta’-”

A loud yelp leaves your lips as you feel a hand clutch your shoulder, yanking you backwards and into his tight grip around you. As rough as he is, you can’t help but revel in his possessiveness. Harley’s face turns red as he begins to pull you through the door now, getting into the elevator, pressing the ‘close door’ button and waving at her with a sarcastic, manic grin. You can hear her screaming as she presses the button to bring the elevator back up incessantly. The two of you keep sliding downwards as sound of her frustration fades. 

“Whadda’ya wanna do, honey?” J starts, taking your shoulders into his hands before sliding them seductively behind your back and holding you close. “Anything- we can do anything ya want. Just say the word, it’s done. Tell daddy, and it’s done, done, done.”

His tone was sultry, but pushy. You know he’s trying to get an answer out of you before Harley catches up, but the way he speaks to you paired with the look in his glacier blue eyes sets off grenades in your heart. 

“I do wanna go dancing, but maybe somewhere other than the club for a change.. You know…” You bite your lip, hoping what you were going to say next wouldn’t offend your clown prince. “Somewhere classy.”

His expression tenses as he peers into your soul now. You just did exactly what you weren’t trying to, it seems. Quickly his face changes as the doors open and the blue and red harlequin rips you from his hands. 

“See ya, puddin’!” She exclaims before skipping off with you in tow once again.

“I can’t take this whiplash!” You complain, following her as she, in a rough but still endearing way, pulls you out of the doors and into the bustling street. People begin eyeing the two of you, practically cowering as she drags you down the sidewalk. You smile at the passersby, attempting to assure them this wasn’t entirely against your will as she turns a corner into an alley that always leads you back to the club that J owns. You sigh, wishing silently for just a second that you could go back to the penthouse, slump into the couch and binge on {F/S}, your secret guilty pleasure that you only partake in when you’re completely alone.

J isn’t following as the two of you run between the doors of the club. It’s the middle of the day, so of course there’s no loud music, no drunk people touching each other and you, making J want to blow everyone’s brains out, and making Harley cringe. There’s just you, Harley and an open bar. 

“See, we could have a ball, just tha’ two of us, sugar! We don’t need some island with Mistah J.” Harley muses, walking behind the bar and picking up bottles of liquor and syrups. Her eyes fall upon a glass jar full of cocktail umbrellas, and she reaches for a blue parasol and then a pink one before even starting the drinks.

You shrug and sit down, at least your mother won’t think you’ve gone missing for months on end. She just adored Harley, who often came over for dinner dressed casually with her hair pulled back when your mother invited you over and J was nowhere to be found. ‘Just for a taste of normal’ she would say.

“I could go for a cocktail I guess.” 

“That’s the spirit!” The blonde perks up as she pours concoctions into two glasses and slides one your way, moving around to your side of the bar and sitting next to you. 

Her small smile was heart melting as she absentmindedly tried her drink. “Not bad, maybe I shoulda been a bartender!” 

You try your own, pleasantly surprised at the cherry and blue raspberry cocktail. You lick your lip and grin, “Maybe you should be!”

Harley giggles, leaning your way slightly and wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“I gotta admit,” she starts, “I’m gettin’ a lil more jealous than usual with you an’ puddin’.. No, I don’t like it. But I can’t help it!” She begins arguing with the voices that occupy her mind just momentarily before looking back to you. “Sorry.” 

Her crimson grin widens as she leans in, dragging a finger across your cheek as she pushes a strand of {H/C} back. You lick your lips again just for a second as she leans in further, pressing her plump lips against yours with ease. Harley’s kiss wasn’t like J’s. It wasn’t nearly as possessive or needy. But it was loving, caring. You could tell her insanity wasn’t fully in fruition the way it was with J. And though she certainly was insane, she still had some wits about her.

You nip into her lower lip, hearing a small sigh and feeling it’s warmth escaping from Harley’s mouth. Your thoughts drift to what she just said, and you entertained the idea of Harley for a moment as her hand pulls you closer and her lips meet your neck now. 

Harley. Just Harley. Without J in the picture. The theory was beautiful, but your heart begins to race in a sudden panic at the thought of losing either of them. The same theory with just J and not Harley was beautiful, and the anxiety begins to settle in as she works at your shoulder now. You couldn’t live without either of them. This was the one thing you knew for certain.

Boom. 

“I should kill you!” J’s voice roared from the doors that just swung open, shutting loudly behind him as he steps in and walks towards the two of you.

You try to compose yourself again and Harley licks her lips with a smirk, like a kitten interrupted from her milk. 

“Ya been tryin’ for years sweetie, that ain’t gonna change now!” She snorts, twisting around on her barstool and taking another drink. 

“Please,” you plead as he steps closer to Harley and pulls her out of her seat. He looked like a rabid tiger, and she had just stolen the last of his food. “You don’t have to fight over my time like this, we can do something together, just the three of us.. I promise!” Your voice squeaks at the end, and you’ve found your place as the mouse in this wild food chain. 

He throws Harley back down into the seat and looks towards you. His eyes pierce through you as they do when he’s thinking of something ferocious. 

“And what do ya wanna do, sweetheart? With just the three of us?”

You swallow hard, breathing a bit staggered as you try to think of a master plan on a dime that would please everyone as he continues.

“Ya know we don’t share often, doll face, if ever. It’s just been her and I… you’ve thrown a little wrench into our system now..” 

He twists your seat so you’re facing Harley now and leans down, placing his chiseled jawline on your shoulder as his hand slides down between your breasts and to your core over your skirt. He leaves his hand there, and you can feel it’s warmth radiating as his other hand tangles itself up in your hair. 

The fire in Harley’s cerulean eyes flickers as she shifts in her seat, and you can tell he’s teasing her just as much as he’s teasing you, and pissing her off even more than that.

His hand slides past your skirt and onto your bare {S/T} thigh, and you can tell his eyes are on no one and nothing but his queen. You’ve become a pawn in their game now, a dirty toy, and you know there’s nothing you can do about it. You’d be lying though, if you said that you didn’t enjoy every single, aching second of it.

Harley’s legs shift open just slightly as she swivels in the stool, biting into her own lower lip. This causes him to slide his hand up your skirt now, not caring about exposing you as the fabric bunches over his wrist. You can feel something engorged on your back, and it doesn’t take even a few seconds to realize it isn’t his gun. 

The air is heavier it seems, as his fingers reach your wet core, causing it to grow even wetter at his touch. He pulls your {F/C} panties aside as he watches her coming undone before him. You can hear a moan leave her throat as she slides off of the stool and onto her knees. Her stretches his finger, grazing your folds slightly as he gestures for her to come closer. You bite your lip now as she sits up, bringing her face closer to your sweet spot. 

“Go on, Harls,” he rasps, his own breath heavy on your neck. 

You whine slightly, wanting nothing more in this moment than to have somebody to something to you. She moves even closer, and your eyes dart to her blonde pigtails, then to her ruby lips that you’re about to share color with on a set of your own. You embrace the warmth of her breath now caressing your flesh, and you can almost feel what she’s about to do already. She parts her lips a little further as her tongue slides past them, gently flicking against the glistening wetness that now coats your folds. 

J’s hand grips onto the back of your head heartily, and you realize he’s waiting to see her taste you even more just as bad as you want her to. 

Moaning and already desperate for the attention they were about to pay you, your hips push just slightly toward her face, closing your eyes. You hear a short giggle, and much to your dismay, Harley suddenly pops up, now standing in front of you instead. You open your eyes as she places her hands on your shoulders as she squeezes them gently. J growls as he once again faces a defeat. 

From the corner of your eye you can see her lean in to peck J on the lips. You sigh, a frown tugging at your {F/C} lips as you reach for the drink she made you. His hand slides from your inner thigh to the small of her back as you close your legs again. You take another sip and try to come back down to earth. 

"Fine.." she coos at him, "We can go on your lil' vacation." 

Harley was rarely the peacekeeper, but you can tell that the idea of endless cocktails and threesomes on a sunny getaway to a private beach had an effect on her as her eyes drifted towards the ceiling in an absentminded yet still thoughtful cloud. 

"We can always dance on the beach," you say, pretending to be upset about your idea being thrown out all together. 

You have to admit, you hardly ever traveled, and the idea of a vacation got you excited just as well. I guess mom will just have to wait... 

They both look to you now, grinning their sinister grins as you stand up, smoothing down your skirt and rolling your eyes with a smile in return.

[usuallyrics-blog]

Free Spirit

New Lyrics has been published on usuallyrics.com https://usuallyrics.com/lyrics/free-spirit/

Free Spirit

(feat. Rick Ross)

[Rick Ross:] Tat my name on you girl so I know it’s real Tat my fucking name on you so I know it’s real

[Verse 1: Drake] Tell a bad bitch girl, let’s go hang You know me, rolex, gold chain Fuck my young niggas, XO gang Get so drunk you forget yo name Incense, burning, smoking out to my own shit Got black wood in my white Range, I’m taking off when that light change I’m Drizzy Drake to my old bitches, Voodoo child to my new hoes I miss this and I want it back, So I’m all in with these new flows New flows, got new flows, rap is stress but it pays great Pimp flows ‘n screw flows, my shit be sounding like grape tapes, now Lemme go an hit that cup, 1 time before a nigga hit that road These days keep going by too fast, so give me anything that make shit go slow Yea, money in my safe, but I’m living dangerous They told me shit would change, but I don’t really see no change in us

[Hook: Drake] Tat my name on you so I know it’s real Tat my fucking name on you so I know it’s real I know it hurts, But I ain’t tryna hear it ‘Cause when I’m not around, I’ll still be there in spirit You’ll still be mine, yea, you’ll still be mine Tat my fucking name on you, when I go you’ll still be mine, yea You’ll still be mine, yea, I’ll still be yours Tat my fucking name on you, let em know you love the boy, wassup

[Verse 2: Rick Ross] I fondle the money, fornicate with a fortune I play with her mind, she masturbate with my Porsche It’s simple love, it’s simple math Her chest nice, not a wrinkle in her ass Puffin’ purple hash welcome to my power circle Sucker free, no snitching, and we know when cowards working Rolls Royce rollin’, rose gold rollie’s MBA accountants, amounts they get unholy But mama still praying for her rubberband man When them wheels land, Travis Barker drums playin’ Tap dance to my drum roll, I love a bitch that know to keep me one rolled

[Hook: Drake] Tat my name on you so I know it’s real Tat my fucking name on you so I know it’s real I know it hurts, But I ain’t tryna hear it ‘Cause when I’m not around, I’ll still be there in spirit You’ll still be mine, yea, you’ll still be mine Tat my fucking name on you, when I go you’ll still be mine, yea You’ll still be mine, yea, I’ll still be yours Tat my fucking name on you, let em know you love the boy, wassup

[Verse 3: Drake] I don’t have to work in the morning so I always stay for 1 more Fuck what they say, I’m telling you there’s no side effects I’m sure Went from driving up on some old shit, to drivers opening doors This is my town, if you need something just ask for it’s yours Yea, ask for it’s yours, if you ask for it it’s done I could Western Union some money, get your passport and then come You’ll meet everybody I know, at first it might seem like a lot But they’re all playing their role, Put that on everything that I got And all I care about is my city, man I can’t say it enough I done heard things about y’all that they can’t say about us I just hold it down for my side, I just hold it down for my sect I give everybody a piece of this, and I make due what’s left Yea I do this shit to the death, yea I do this shit till I’m gone Yea, I told you that it’s our world, and you’re foolish thinking I’m wrong, OOh Stop asking how the fucking needle feel, tat my fucking name on you, let these niggas know it’s real, wassup

[Hook:] Tat my name on you so I know it’s real Tat my fucking name on you so I know it’s real I know it hurts, But I ain’t tryna hear it ‘Cause when I’m not around, I’ll still be there in spirit You’ll still be mine, yea, you’ll still be mine Tat my fucking name on you, when I go you’ll still be mine, yea You’ll still be mine, yea, I’ll still be yours Tat my fucking name on you, let em know you love the boy, wassup

Who is Drake

Aubrey Drake Graham – Canadian actor and musician. Degrassi: Jimmy Brooks from the next generation. As a rapper, Drake uses his stage name.

[selfshipconfectionery]

whats brackin bruh how you livin? i'd like a moodboard for kurb (me/kurloz makara from homestuck) with a focus on trust, sweetness, and softness. purples, reds, neons, skeletons, blurred images, carnival themes, dolls, etc are generally a good place to go w this ships aesthetic but im trusting you xo ~ cub-shipping

Fuckiiiiin posted!

(Eyyy! I loved the themes you gave me holy shit, I hope you like it Cub!!! If there’s anything you want me to change lemme know.)