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[wandanatfluff]

The Life That's Left To Live - Part I - Take Me Home

Series (This part:) Fluff

Prologue | Part I

Summary series: You’re a little girl when the avengers find you. Natasha becomes kind of a mother to you. Then about 7 years later when you’re 21 you go live with the avengers again for a while, because they need your help with something. The avengers are like a family to you. Wanda is still new to the avengers and doesn’t know what happened in your past. You sleep in Wanda’s room in an extra bed and the two of you become friends. You are a quite happy, social and spontaneous girl, but there’s a sad/depressed side to you that sometimes comes to the surface.

Summary of this part: Natasha calls you with information about your brother and you go to the Avengers compound, where you meet Wanda.

Pairing: Natasha (mother figure/mentor) x Female Reader Wanda (platonic (for now at least)) x Female Reader

Warnings for this part: -

Word count: 2.2 K

A/n: To be honest I think it turned out okay, I spent quite a while on this. Title: Take Me Home, by Chord Overstreet. The fic isn’t directly based or related to the song. The title just fits ;-). The series title is a line from Love Is War, by RUNAGROUND. I hope you enjoy it!

Source: Pinterest

Absentmindedly you listen to the person in front of you. Some annoying colleague that is going on and on about a something that you would have done wrong. They had been going on for almost ten minutes and by now, you had stopped listening. Your mind drifted off to happy memories. It was something you did quite often. By reliving old memories once in a while, they would become recent in your mind again, which made it easier to go back to them, when you were feeling low. You thought about your younger self on the back of your brother’s bike, your small arms wrapped around his waist, your head pressed against his back. It had been his birthday and he had gotten a new bike. You didn’t like bikes, but when he asked for you to ride along the neighborhood with him, you gave in. Your childhood was filled with a lot of fear, but your brother always seemed to take that away. He was in almost all of your joyful memories. He was your safe place.

Your phone chimed, snapping you back into reality. You excused yourself from the ‘conversation’ and left the room. Once you close the door, you answer your phone.

“I owe you Nat! You saved me!”

“Hey Y/n… What did I save you from?”

“Some colleague, who was being incredibly tedious.”

“Need me to kill anyone?”

“Uhm… No. But what are you calling about?”

“We got new information about your brother and we need your help with it.” You fell silent for a moment at the mention of your brother.

“Oh... What is it?”

“I’m sorry Y/n, I can’t tell you over the phone. You’ll have to come to the compound.”

“Okay… I can do that. I’ll leave tomorrow morning and be there around dinner time?”

“Perfect. See you then.”

After cooking yourself some dinner you went to your room to pack. You dug deep in your closet to find your weekend bag. It had been a while since your last trip. You don’t travel that much. To be honest, you don’t travel at all. Your daily routine leaves just enough time for your daily work-out, some me-time and occasionally a movie. Staying busy avoids overthinking stuff, or well… overthinking more specific things. It took you a while to build up a routine. Have breakfast, work out, drive to the office, do your work, pretend to listen to the gossip from your fellow colleagues during the lunch break. Not that anything about your life is very challenging, but it’s just enough to keep you satisfied and to survive. Every now and then when you have a day off, you go shopping with a friend.

You are quite the cheerful girl. You are spontaneous and kind, people get along with you. You have a few friends, but none really close. The only close friends or family you have, are Nat, Steve, Tony, Clint, Thor and Bruce and you haven’t seen them in the while.

You had to empty your entire closet, but you finally found your white weekend bag with the subtle, pastel flowers pattern. You smile at it. It had been a gift from Nat. You used to have a boring and old grey bag, so she had bought you a new one. After you throw the bag on your bed, you start to fill it with clothes. You had no idea how long you’d be gone, so you packed for five days. Once your bag was fully stuffed you zipped it closed and threw it over your shoulder, making you way back to the living room.

You throw your bag next to the counter and are just about to get yourself some coffee, when the bel rings. You grab your phone and see Natasha standing in front of your door through the camera. Natasha had bought you a doorbell with a camera, to be sure you were as safe as possible when she wasn’t there. Aware of the camera she smiled at you through it. You chuckle at the sight and walk to the door to open it for her. Moments like this remind you of how amazing Natasha is. She had the key to you appartement, but chose not to use it, so she wouldn’t unnecessarily scare you.

“Surpriseee, figured I’d pick you up myself!”

“Hey Nat, come in!”

You take her jacket and hang it on the coat rack.

“How are you doing?”

“Good, actually. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Just coffee, please.”

“Got it.”

You go back to the counter and get yourself and Nat some coffee. You open the fridge and get two pieces of the pie that is left from your graduation ceremony. With two slices of cake and the coffee you go to the living room. You hand Natasha, who has sat down on the couch, her coffee and put the cake on the side table.

“Oehh, is there something to celebrate?”

“Yup… I got a job!”

“Y/n! I am so proud of you. I knew you could do it!” Tears begin to well in Natasha’s eyes and she puts down her coffee to give you a hug. You bury you head in her neck and let out a small sniff. She knew what it meant for you to get your first real job. The small party one of your friends threw had been basic. Everyone had congratulated you, but Natasha was the only one who truly took her time to express her happiness. She was the only one who knew what it meant to you. It had been a long way, a long, long way, but you made it! You did it!

She had been there with Steve when you graduated. She had driven six hours, just because she knew what it would mean to you, having her there. It had been a surprise, she hadn’t told you she was coming, so when you saw her from the stage you had broken down in tears.

You catch up a bit, after which you both go to bed. You turn the sofa into a bed for Natasha so she can sleep on it, but before you rest your eyes, Natasha helps you fill another suitcase with clothing. She laughed at the sight of your single bag and suggested you’d pack another suitcase.

*** After six hours of sleep Natasha wakes you up. You take the time to get out of your bed, you take a shower and put on some make-up. In a pair of light skinny jeans and a lively orange tank top, that complemented you tan, you sit down at the kitchen island. Natasha had made you breakfast and after you finished it, you got in the car. The ride would take about six hours, so before hitting the road, you stopped at the supermarket to get some snacks and drinks for on the way. After three hours you had a pit-stop at the MacDonald’s to get some lunch. You ordered the food via the McDrive and ate it in the car on the parking lot. When the food was finished you hit the road again. You had switched places, meaning Natasha would finish the drive to the compound. Natasha was still sipping from her milkshake in one hand, her other hand on the wheel. You leaned against the door with you head on your arm. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin as you dozed off.

A bump in the road woke you up.

You shot up straight. When you realized there was no danger, you leaned back into you chair, resting you head against the headrest.

“Slept well, princess?” Nat teasingly said.

“Nat!” You stumped her shoulder with your elbow. She grinned, but kept her eyes on the road. A comfortable silence fell and you closed your eyes again, not intending to sleep again though.

“No, but for real. How have you been sleeping?” You knew what she meant. She wanted to know if you still had nightmares. They would still terrorize your nights sometimes. You would wake up sweating and shaking. Wide awake you would sit in the middle of your bed at midnight, tears running down your cheeks.

“Uhm, okay, I guess. Some nights better than others.” She turned her head to look at you, giving you a sweet smile. She laid her hand on your leg, her palm up. You put your hand in hers, giving it a slight squeeze.

“Now we’re talking about sleeping, a few rooms are under renovations, so the rooms are full. You can sleep in Wanda’s room. She has an extra bed on her room.”

“Is she okay with that?”

“I think so.”

“You didn’t ask her!?”

“No, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

“Nat…”

“Just kidding, I told her she would have to share her room with you.”

“And…?”

“She was fine with it.”

*** With your suitcase in your hand, your bag over your shoulder and music in your ears, you enter Wanda’s room. On the right side of the room there’s a king-sized bed with two chairs and a coffee table on the left side of the bed, next to the window that covers the entire back side of the room, providing a view of the trees and water next to the compound. On the left side of the room there is a large wardrobe, a door to the bathroom and in the corner there’s a single bed, parallel to the window. Above the bed there’s a shelf with a plant, some books and a light string. The room wasn’t very decorated, there weren’t many personal items. One wall was painted in a grey tone with a hint of purple and there was a purple bedspread, covering the lower side of Wanda’s bed. On the nightstand was a photo of Wanda, standing next to a boy with white hair. You figured it must be her brother, Natasha had told you about the twins and the tragedy. Apart from the photo and some plants, there was nothing personal in the room.

You walked to the bed you’d be sleeping in and dropped your bags on the floor. You sat down on the bed and with your feet still on the ground you let your back rest on the bed, closing your eyes as you take the time to take in the feeling of home. To be honest you feel more home at the Avengers compound then at your own appartement. After a few minutes you got up from the bed and put on some upbeat music as you start to make the bed.

Singing along to the music cheerfully, you put the duvet in its cover. With both corners of the blanket in your hands you shake the cover over the duvet. With the music in both your ears you didn’t hear someone come in, so when you feel a hand on your shoulder, you are slightly startled. You quickly stop the music and take out your AirPods. You turn around to lay your eyes on a beautiful woman with coper locks flowing over her shoulders.

“You must be Y/n.”

Wanda knew who you were, your name would regularly come up in a conversation. She didn’t know much about you other than your name. You were kind of a mystery to her. She was new to the team and hadn’t personally met you yet. One thing is clear to her, though. No one bothered to mention how gorgeous you were. With a lump in her throat, she looked into your eyes, once you had turned around to face her. The woman that was standing in front of her seemed like a nice, cheerful person. She had a beautiful smile on her face, but there was something in her eyes that showed her happiness hadn’t always been a given. She took her in, her hair up in a high pony tail with curtain bangs accentuating her face, she was wearing an orange tank top, which showed off her tanned skin, on top of light flared jeans and elegant black ankle boots. Jeez, she was beautiful.

“Guilty as charge.” You responded. “It’s my pleasure meeting you…”

Witty too. You reminded her of her brother.

“Wanda.”

“Ah Wanda! Natasha told me so much about you. Nice to finally meet you. Oh, and Natasha said I could sleep here for the time being. Is that okay with you?”

Natasha talked about her? That was a good thing… right? To be honest Wanda was rather intimidated by Natasha. Even though she had been welcomed with open arms into the group, once, you know, she had switched sides, it had been quite hard for her to adjust to the group.

“Yeah, she told me. It’s fine”

“Cool”

“Do you need help with the bed?”

“Oh no, I’m done.”

She noticed the bed was nicely made and saw your weekend bag, half under your bed.

“You can use that dresser if you want, and if you want to hang any of your clothes, you can put them in my closet.”

“Oh thanks!”

“No problem.”

“I was about to start dinner, the rest should be back in an hour.”

“I’ll make sure I’ll be there on time, I wouldn’t want to miss whatever culinary art you intend to make.” You said teasingly.

“Great, I’ll see you in an hour then

[oilivia]

dating the Haikyuu boys as.. zodiac sign stereotypes

a/n: it seems this year i’m all for trying new things and making weird banners. i’m honestly not sure if anyone else did it before, i tried looking it up but i haven’t seen any posts.

this is pure fluff and a bit of crack, headcanons of some of the Haikyuu boys as their respective zodiac sign based solely on my experience with said signs and their personalities. 

don’t take this too seriously please! but if you want to come for my head, my asks are open.

Characters: Yuuji Terushima, Satori Tendou, Koushi Sugawara, Tooru Oikawa,  Wakatoshi Ushijima, Koutarou Bokuto, Atsumu Miya, Tetsurou Kuroo, Keiji Akaashi, Tobio Kageyama, Rintarou Suna, Kiyoomi Sakusa

CW: fluff, some crack, mentions of kissing and sex (but nothing explicit), PDA, sun sign stereotypes, my own interpretation

Wording: 1.3k

♡ Aries - Yuuji Terushima

spontaneous dates. 3 am “u up?” calls. play fighting. running naked on the beach at midnight. 

“Be ready in 10, we’re going on a picnic.” You take a look at the clock, Saturday, 2:14am. He’s there in 7 minutes, not 10, grinning as he watches you sneak out of the house. “I brought pancakes” he announces as he takes your hand and pulls you into a kiss. An hour and a short climb later, you’re lying in the grass at the top of a hill, watching the way the stars dance above your heads.

♡ Taurus - Satori Tendou

leaving you the last bite. netflix & chill. massages. sleeping in on the weekend. fine chocolate and good wine.

The delicious smell of your favorite food fills your nostrils. The room is dark aside from the candlelight, an open bottle of wine resting on the table. “I thought I’d do something special for you, I know you had a long week.” You giggle - any excuse for Tendou to treat you like a princess. Was that a chocolate cake on the counter? You hummed with appreciation when you felt his lips place a sweet kiss on your cheek.

♡ Gemini - Koushi Sugawara

driving around town. making out for hours. late night chats. singing at the top of your lungs. sexting 

“Can I open the window?” you ask with an innocent smile. He chuckles “Can I stop you?” You roll it down, your head poking out. The cold air of the night hits your face as you sing at the top of your lungs. Your eyes are fixed on Suga’s, ear to ear grin on your faces. You mess up the lyrics, throwing you both into a fit of laughter. “You’re so pretty” he says as he ruffles your hair when you get back in your seat. 

♡ Cancer - Tooru Oikawa

stargazing. breakfast in bed. saying “i love you” too soon. taking care of you when you’re sick. cupping your cheeks as he kisses your nose.

“What’s so amusing?” you question, raising an eyebrow. “You just look so cute when you’re angry.” You scoff, turning your head to hide your smile. It was just like him to say something stupid and then tease you when you got angry. He knew you couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he made that pouty face “Buy me another ice-cream if you want me to forgive you for dropping this one, Tooru.” “Anything for you, sweetness!” 

♡ Leo - Wakatoshi Ushijima

fancy restaurant dates. surprise gifts. compliments. weekend trips. taking pictures to remember your smile.

“What are you hiding?” you smirk, your hands reaching for the small box Ushijima holds behind his back. Your eyes widen when you open it “How did you know?” “I noticed you looking at it when we went out. Let me see how it looks on you.” He takes the necklace, fingers gently brushing against your soft skin as he clasps the necklace around your neck. “You look perfect,” he states as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

♡ Virgo - Koutarou Bokuto

laughing until you cry. good morning kisses. cooking together. picking you up and throwing you on his shoulder. 

You let out a startled cry when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist and lift you up “Gotcha!” he laughs in your ear as he holds you tight, even as you struggle to escape “Kou, put me down” you demand, your tone amused - you were used to his antics. “Only if you give me a kiss first, I haven’t seen you in forever” he pleads as he turns you around “If by forever you mean this morning.” He bends down, eyes to your level, as he waits for you to close the gap and kiss him.

♡ Libra - Atsumu Miya 

flirting and teasing. making out in the club. playful pranks. dancing in the living room.

Not even the nights when you wouldn’t go out were boring, not with Atsumu. You sit on the couch as he watches a volleyball game, your eyes glued to a book. He changes the channel and hears your favorite song play. He grabs your hand “Dance with me,” he’s smiling, a wicked glint in his eyes. Could you refuse? You get up, your feet carrying you across the living room floor as you dance. Soft kisses find your lips whenever you giggle.

♡ Scorpio - Tetsurou Kuroo

passionate kisses. falling in love with your eyes. finishing each other’s sentences. fight and makeup. watching the sunset.

“Move faster, old man, we only have 15 minutes left till the sun sets” you tease with a grin. He sighs audibly, feigning an exasperated look “Carry this old man to the top if you’re so enthusiastic!” “I’ll leave you here then, Tetsu-” you squint your eyes before you start trekking again. He’ll catch up eventually, he couldn’t be that tired. “Hmm, if that’s how you want to play” you hear him snicker “Last one to the top carries the backpacks!” he exclaims as he starts running, almost passing you before you join in.

♡ Sagittarius - Keiji Akaashi

playing devil’s advocate. forehead kisses. talking about the universe. dancing in the rain. exploring each other’s hobbies.

Your fingers brush as you reach for the same book. “Please, go ahead” Akaashi says, soft smile dancing on his lips. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly” you reply in an excessively polite tone. You gasp, feigning outrage when you see him take the book from the shelf. “It’s for you, miss” he hands you the volume as he plants a kiss on your forehead, only to pull it away from your grasp with a chuckle. “But I think you can wait a bit more, let me buy it for you, love” he takes your hand, heading for the front of the bookstore. Leave it to Akaashi to make you fall for him all over again.

♡ Capricorn - Tobio Kageyama

power couple. expensive gifts. dark humor. overseas trips. playing with your hair. inner wrist kisses

“You look breathtaking!” Kageyama compliments you when he sees you dressed for the party. “I will need to keep an eye on you, don’t want anyone to steal you away.” “As if anyone could,” you smile when you see him drink in your image, his eyes scanning you head to toe. “But we should get going, unless you want us to be late” “Let them wait, I want to admire my princess”. You feel your skin getting hotter at his words. Maybe you could be late this one time.

♡ Aquarius - Rintarou Suna

blasting music. buying snacks in the middle of the night. foreign movies. aesthetic pictures. witty comebacks. 

You stopped running, hand on your stomach as you laughed, struggling to catch your breath. “Rin, wait” you shout, prompting Suna to turn back and look at you. “What? Can you still run? The store will close in like 4 minutes. Want me to go ahead?” You start laughing harder at his confused expression, watching his brows furrow deeper. “I forgot the store’s open 24/7 now, they changed it last week.” “Are you trying to tell me we sprinted for no reason?” “Bonding experience?” He starts chuckling as well, pulling you into a kiss “Bonding experience.”

♡ Pisces - Kiyoomi Sakusa

roasting each other. falling in love at first sight. neck kisses. midnight strolls. showering together. doing your skincare together.

You feel your body shift and you open your eyes, only to realize Sakusa is carrying you. “You fell asleep on the couch, I’m taking you to bed,” he whispers as if afraid he’d shake the sleepiness from your eyes. “But I haven’t taken off my make-up, Omi” you mutter as you wrap your arms around his neck lovingly. “I’ll take it off for you after I tuck you in, I know how you do it,” he presses a kiss on your forehead as you nuzzle your head against his neck. “I love you so much, Omi” “I love you too”

© 2021 all content belongs to @cherrysdollhouse​, please do not modify or repost without permission

[outofsstyles]

KILLER QUEEN (80s!AU)

 A/N: Heyaa!! So here’s what happens when I watch Sing Street right after reading some of Olivia’s boyfriend!Harry prompts :) Also a huge thank you to Soph @canyon-moan​ for betaing this for me!! A gentle reminder that I was not, in fact, alive in the 80s so please take it easy in that aspect lol. If you like it *please reblog*, it helps a lot, also I’d love to hear your feedback!!!!

Word count: 25.3k (I have no self control!! Someone stop me!!)

Pairing: Musician!Harry + Bassist!Reader

Prompts: making it official + enemies but secretly lovers

Warnings: Our typical mentions of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll (and a lot of denim!)

Concept: You and Harry are in rival bands and you shouldn’t really get along but you can’t help it.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

It didn’t come as a surprise to you that, from the moment you agreed to be part of the band, your agenda would become more frantic. That’s all you read on magazines or see on the television on those late nights MTV programs that love to talk about that rockstar life. The shows and the sleepless nights. The drugs and the sex between stages. It’s always what comes to the minds of anyone that thinks about following the music path.

Of course, you’re far from being The Bangles or Duran Duran, but even when it comes to playing for uninterested drunks on small crummy bars, you still found yourself barely able to catch a breather from it. 

And it also doesn’t help that on top of it all, you also try your best to balancing your studies as you go into your third year of uni. So, between being tucked behind your bass during rehearsals and going around begging for stuck up pub owners to give a spot, you still have to find time for the busy class schedule that also blends with your tutoring job on the side. Sometimes it feels like juggling those two contrasting lives is too much, and when you walk home each day too exhausted to even function, you ponder if you should just drop one of them.

You still manage to fall into a rather chaotic routine of dragging through weekdays to fall into reckless weekends. It’s not easy, but you make it work.

Today, however, seemed to be an odd one. From the moment you woke up with the sound of birds chirping and the faint conversation of your neighbors outside your window, you felt a sense of relaxation that has become a rarity to you. It’s a welcoming change from your usual rowdy roommates bantering at each other or the loud music blasting through the walls that serve as your alarm on regular days. The silence that engrosses your normally-chaotic home is calming as much as it is strange. 

The whole day went by in a lulling and lazy pace, and between your several attempts of keeping yourself occupied (that being going on a walk to the library or going through your mom’s old recipe book) you actually catch yourself realizing the quietness can be louder than your roommates.

It’s a weird concept to you. Missing them when you spend so much time together in the band, but you still can’t help it. So you just blast the radio and let Rio fill in the empty walls as you wait for one of them to come home.

By the time the night falls, wind thumping on the closed windows as the first thin drops of rain start to hit the glass, Lena is back from her shift with a low huff and a roll of her eyes, mumbling how she’s never covering weekend shifts ever again -- which you both know is not true, but neither mention it. And that’s how you find yourself at the end of your unruffled day, tucked at the end of your couch under a cozy blanket. Listening to one of MTV’s nightly programs - that Lena watches almost religiously after a day of work - as background noise. You focus on the open book settled on top of your lap, enjoying her company quietly as you flip through the pages.

It could be the perfect ending for a perfectly relaxing day, the sound of the rain almost lulling you to sleep as the words in front of you begin to shuffle, finding it harder to concentrate with your mind drifting off.

But before you can let your eyes fall close and your head snuggle back into the cushions, you’re startled awake by the burst of your front door opening. The sudden noise makes you and Lena jump, a yelp leaving your lips as you look back to the source of your fright. 

You barely have any time to feel panicked or even wrap your head around the possibilities of what could have caused the outburst as Abbey barges into the room.  She all but jumps on each step, stumbling a bit as she makes her way around the couch to stand tall in front of you. Her red hair is full and damp, droplets of water running down her body, causing her clothes to stick to her skin.

“I got us a gig!” Her breath is short as if she just ran a long way.

“Christ, Abbey, don’t do that!” You relax back into the couch once you realize there’s no real threat invading your home, closing your eyes and letting out a breath. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She scoffs, “Did you listen to a word I just said?” You notice her eyes are blown out, “I got us a gig, as in a </i> real gig.”

“A real gig?” Lena inquires, standing up to walk towards the front door that was left agape, closing it with a thump.

Abbey’s grin grows, her words come out slow but clear. “Next Saturday in the Blue Bird.”

“That’s in a week.” You state.

Her shoulders drop, “Yeah, and?”

“Blue Bird?” Lena comes in the room again, stopping by the head of the couch and crossing her arms under her chest. “How did you even get that I thought the only band that played there was--”

“You’re right Lena, was as in not anymore because we are playing there, and there’s more.” She interrupts, her voice raising an octave. “The owner, Ronnie, said if we’re good enough he can arrange for us to play every other weekend.”

“You’re insane.” You shake your head slightly. “That’s like a place where people actually go for the music, what makes you think we can pull that off?”

Abbey points a finger at you, “You’re being a pessimist, and that’s not appreciated in here.” She waves her hands around, trying to assert her point. “We can and we will pull that off and take over the permanent spot on the weekends.”

“Is that what this is about?” Lena smirks, eyebrows raising at her friend. “It’s been a hot minute since you raged about that Harry boy.”

 “It’s not just about him, Adeline.” She barks, “It’s about us! We need to find our confidence again.”

 “Again?” You speak out, making her snap her eyes back at you.

“Yes, again.” She says, “We’re doing this and it’s gonna be wicked.”

You sigh, nodding in agreement as you exchange a knowing look with Lena.

In all fairness, the prospect of playing a gig at an actual music house is as exciting as it is scary. It’s not like you think you’re not able to pull it off, but the simple thought of having people actually paying attention to your presence on stage is enough to make you want to hide under your covers and never come out. But seeing Abbey so pumped about it, there’s no way in a million years you’d ever say no.

She was the one that wanted to start a band, after all. Before she dropped out, in what seems like ages ago, she was your roommate that would drag you around every time she had those spontaneous ideas, that is going out for pancakes at three in the morning, go on weekend trips to concerts two cities away, or, well, start a band herself.  

In the beginning, it was just the three of you, Abbey as the lead, you on the bass, and a girl you met on one of the said weekend trips, who had introduced herself as Lena, on the guitar. And not even a month later, you were all living together in a tiny house near the main street. 

At first, the biggest issue, to your surprises, was that you couldn’t find a drummer if your lives depended on it. Even after putting out posters around campus, you only got two calls from men whose only interest was the “all-girls band” part of it. Things got better when you met Jaz, a smiley girl from your Phonetics class. She wasn’t a drummer, but her boyfriend was, they both played for their High School band (which is how they met, a proper movie-worthy story if they’d ask you). And just like that, you got yourselves a drummer and a keyboardist.

For the next few months that followed you played on dirty bars and house parties, getting paid with tipsy pats on your backs, or, if you were lucky, maybe a pack of cheap drinks for you all to share. It’s the frustrating part of trying to get into the music path, you found, most serious places were not interested on a band with hardly any live experience and no original songs whatsoever. So you just had to take whatever opportunity came your way. Once, you even played on the birthday party of Lena’s manager’s daughter, which was probably the most disastrous experience of them all, considering a crowd of eight-year-olds and their posh moms weren’t exactly fond of listening to loud covers of Blondie. You got to play three full songs before one of them asked you to leave. 

The first time you actually got money was when Abbey dragged you and Lena to play on the sidewalk of the National Park, where people would come and go with their busy lives and full wallets. That was the best one, you easily got three hundred within a few hours of your open cases, which was split between the three of you at the end of the day.

Afterward, you wanted to play on the streets again, but Abbey wished more than just being a street performer, she yearned for the glow of the spotlights and a place on the stage. And it’s not like you lot didn’t think of it as well, how it would be like to have an actual gig. So, you just went back to the old routine of jumping from bar to bar.  Playing for people that couldn't care less about your presence on the small stage, focusing only on their cheap beers and drunk conversations. 

For a while it seemed like that was all there was to it, the music scene getting more congested by the minute, you thought there was no way you’d ever make it out there. There were moments you even thought about giving it up, if you were honest, setting your mind into getting your English degree that at least has the guarantee of a stable paycheck by the end of it. But as Abbey always says, there’s nothing you can’t do with a twist of your hair and a bat of your lashes. And somehow, she managed to be true to her word, presenting an opportunity to actually start taking this seriously.

And it would be a lie to say there isn’t an excitement growing at the pit of your stomach the more you think about it.

                                ❁         ❁        ❁ 

You’ve heard about the Blue Bird before.

Of course you have, it’s near to impossible not to. Being in a small town, predominantly surrounded by uni students, and that being the only music pub in the area, you’ve heard about it quite often. 

It’s become quite the hot spot for people interested in listening to good music while getting lost in the bottom of their beer glasses. With the only other competitor being a good forty-minute drive away, people go in crowds on the weekends as a getaway from their textbooks. You’re not sure why you’ve never been in it, though, only going as far as walking past it on your nightly walks during the week, listening to the faint sound of whatever band’s playing at the time. 

But if there’s one thing that’s always brought up when the subject is the Blue Bird is CHASM, more specifically Harry Styles. They have the permanent spot on the weekends and have become one of the main reason people - women, mainly - come in lots to have a spot inside the packed space. 

As much as his name comes up in a dreamy sigh and followed by a string of giggles when you hear it being mentioned by a classmate or overhear it somewhere in public, inside of your bubble he’s pretty much only mentioned in annoyed huffs or with a roll of eyes. If you’re honest, you know close to nothing about him, wouldn’t even be able to point him out on the street if you ever happen to cross paths. But you do know that Abbey is not fond of him in the slightest, so for that, you try to keep your distance from anything that has to do with Harry Styles.

You’re not sure how this hatred of her came to be and to be honest, you’ve never really been bothered enough to ask. Abbey doesn’t like a lot of people, her first impression of them it’s what she keeps in her heart with zero to no chance of changing it, so you just assume this Harry guy might’ve not given her a good one. It’s never really been something you really dwelled on, the circumstances in your life allowing you to ignore his existence unless he’s being spoken of. But it feels like a whole nother story now that you’ve essentially stolen his golden spot on the saturday night. 

The moment you walk into The Blue Bird is when you start to come to the realization that this is really happening. Not even a full step in, your eyes already dart to the big stage standing tall across from the entrance door, bigger than any other one you’ve ever been in -- being used to small platforms that barely have enough space to fit a drumset. it’s hard not to let your lips part in awe at the size of it all, the outside is rather modest compared to it, the only really striking detail being the LED sign with the name of the pub. There’s a large bar standing in the middle of the place, serving almost as a divisor of the two areas of the pub. The first area is the one you walk into as you first enter the place, with tables surrounding the space -- that now have their chairs propped on top of them, and you reckon this is where people sit around as they wait for the musical act of afterward when they can barely keep themselves up on their feet. The second area, however, it’s just empty of any barrier, except from the stools lined in front of the bar, meant mainly for people to crowd in front of the stage.

The walls are what catches your attention, though. The one where the front door stands is covered with magazines and newspaper cutouts of celebrities, scandalous headlines written in big bold letters, and random articles about their personal lives. On top of this big collage, there are band posters, you assume the ones that played in here, most of them stuck once to the wall, except for one that you can see multiple different colored papers with the same name written on it. 

You stop in front of one of them, one that’s just below your eyesight but catches your attention with the big blood-red letters that read CHASM on top of it, with a smaller font on the side saying  “live every weekend of ‘87” right below it. What you focus on, however, are the five faces staring back at you, their serious expressions looking almost haunting with the black and white filter. But it’s the one in the middle that your eyes immediately dart to. Unlike his bandmates, his lips are frozen with a slight smirk, small enough that wandering eyes could easily miss it, but still prominent enough that you can make out the shadow of a dimple on his cheek. His hair is settled in a wild nest, but not in a sloppy way, you decide, they’re a rockstar kind of messy. He’s handsome, there’s no doubt in that, just by looking at the small print of his face you can understand what the fuss is about, not that you’d ever admit that out loud. But it doesn’t keep your mind from wondering the color of his eyes and what it would be like to see them up close, as you look back at the taunting grin you think what could be the tone of his lips or--

“Lost something in there?” Lena’s voice makes you jump, turning swiftly to find her grinning at you. “You should come and start getting everything ready before Abbey finds you admiring our arch-nemesis.”

Your eyes widen, coughing in surprise as you try to regain composure after being caught. “I-- I wasn’t--”

She chuckles, turning to roam back to the stage before you can finish, throwing you one last look over her shoulder. “Sure thing, buttercup.”

You spare one last look to the poster before following her lead to the other side of the room where the rest of your friends are setting up the instruments on top of the stage. Once you locate your case tucked in the far left corner you quickly open it, finding your soft pink tinted bass resting inside of it. The Sesame Street sparkling stickers stuck to it glimmer from this angle (you got them in a favor bag from when you played at the birthday party), thanks to one of the spotlights shining directly at them. You pick the instrument up, adjusting the strap over your shoulder and giving the chords a few experimental strokes before looking up at the empty place.

There’s no denial of the anticipation that takes over every part of your body at the sight of the pub from the stage. A perfect mixture of excitement and anxiousness that lights up as you imagine how it will be like to see it filled up. It makes you gnawn at you bottom lip, jumping a bit on you feet as you move to connect your bass to the amplifier.

For a while, you just finish setting up the stage, tuning in the instruments, the sounds echoing on the empty space in a bit of a disarray, as you get used to the feeling of using proper sound equipment. You had the chance to meet the owner, Ronnie, for a brief minute as he strolled around the stage, observing you all before mumbling something about paying anything you broke and announcing he’d be in his office until opening hours. It wasn’t the warmest greeting you’ll admit, but you don’t really care, enjoying the opportunity nevertheless. 

Abbey arrives just a few minutes before the rehearsal is set to start, contemplating the view of everyone getting into a more of a harmonic arrangement before disappearing backstage for a moment without saying much of a word. When she comes back, she props herself in front of a big curved mirror cutting through one of the walls.

“Do you think you can do my makeup today, babe?” She calls back at you, gazing from over her shoulder with a slight pout on her ips.

“Sure.” You fiddle with the guitar pick between your fingers. “Do you want that rainbow look from last time?”

“Maybe something with less color this time.” She focuses back on her reflection, sighing loudly as fingers run through her locks. “I’m thinking of dying my hair black,” she tilts her head as if she’s envisioning her words. “I don’t know, just to try out something new.”

“That won’t make you look more like Joan Jett, you know.” A voice echoes in the empty space, bringing your attention to the entrance of the place.

And there he stands. The figure you had been staring at not long before, on the same poster stuck right behind where he is leaning, arms crossed and a smug look on his face. 

Harry stands there as if he just walked right out of the big screen, is the kind of beautiful you don’t see quite often outside a magazine cover. Not that it’s something that surprises you, considering you could tell from even a poorly printed image on a poster that the sharp curve of his jaw and the cut of his cheekbones could call anyone’s attention from afar. Even with what you find to be a rather plain outfit for someone like him, a simple white turtleneck tucked in his lightwash jeans, matched with a denim jacket, he still manages to stand out somehow. It’s almost compelling, really. And you can’t help but follow him with your eyes as he pushes himself off the wall, making his way towards the bar with an attitude as if he owns the place.

Abbey scoffs from her spot, arms crossing under her chest. “Unlike you, I don’t have to try to be someone else to get attention, Styles.”

He rests an elbow on top of the counter, chuckling as he points a finger at your friend. “You’re getting better at this, I’m proud.”

“What the fuck are you even doing here?” She barks, keeping a stern look pointed at him.

“Wanted to check out who stole our Saturday night spot, princess.” He spits back at her, words dancing around the room in a teasing manner. “When Ronnie said it was a bunch of newbies had to see it with my own eyes.” Unlike her, he doesn’t seem bitter at the situation in hand, but somewhat amused at the heated girl scoffing at him. From the distance you stand, you can’t make out details, but it’s still enough to notice the grin imprinted on his face, dimples marking his cheeks as he clenches his jaw, eyes wandering around the stage as he leans back fully to rest both elbows on top of the stool. “Plus, I get free booze before the House opens.”

As the words leave his lips his eyes meet yours, and you quickly realize you must’ve been staring for quite a while. You see the smirk growing on his face before you quickly look back at the forgotten bass in your hands. There’s a warmth creeping from your neck to the tip of your ears from getting caught all but gawking at him. You move your hands to the cords, beginning to tune the instrument as an attempt to cover-up. But when you take a peek at him you still find his eyes watching you, only enhancing the blush that’s now undoubtedly taking over your cheeks.

“You lot are way more organized than I expected.” He speaks up again, motioning towards Ross sitting by the side of the stage near the drumset.  “Got a roadie and everything.”

“Piss off!” Ross snarls back at him.

Harry just smiles. “Just taking a piss, mate.”

“I better not see you going around trying to get to one of my girls, Styles.” Abbey calls back from her shoulder as she jumps onto the stage, turning to face him. “Or you’re a dead man.”

“What’s that they can’t speak for themselves?” He arches his brows at her. “Where’s all that sexual freedom you love to brag about?”

“You’d love to use that as an excuse, wouldn’t you?” She toys with the mic stand. “You stay away from them.”

There’s no more banter once you begin the rehearsal. Harry grabbing a glass of a drink you can’t quite make out from the distance and moves to a spot tucked by the back of the place. Curiously, you catch yourself glimpsing in his direction every so often, but you can barely make out his silhouette due to the stage lights limiting your vision. At one point, when it dims down, you can see him scrunching over the table, focusing on a small journal sitting on top of it -- you find it odd his choice of place to do so, but don’t duel on it too much.

What keeps crawling back into your mind is Abbey’s words to Harry earlier, telling him to not try his way with any of you. She was talking about you. That much was clear, considering there’s not any other choice for him, with Jaz being very much compromised and Lena having no interest in engaging with men in any way. That leaves you as the only option that he could possibly pursue. It makes you think why she’d even consider that a possibility in the first place, but you push it to the back of your mind, concentrating on you bass lines until it’s around the opening hour and you’re getting ready backstage.

None of you are used to the concept of having a dressing room, so as undusted as it seems from a first glance, it still only helps to enhance the reality that hits you of this whole experience. The far voices from people starting to fill in the bar outside making your nerves become near overwhelming as you try to apply some eyeshadow with shaky hands. 

When you’re all ready to go, just about half an hour away from walking onstage, you try to dull your anxiety with a cup handed to you by Lena of something you’re not quite sure what it is but it tastes like oranges and tequila. You settle on a spot on the certainly old red couch prompted against the wall. Avoiding a big rip cutting through the middle of it, foam poking out of the hole, you try not to think of what could’ve caused it -- or all the other stains adorning it. 

There’s people coming and going around the space, the door not staying close for longer than a minute. Faster than you can process it, the room is suddenly crammed with people, none of which you recognize yet they greet you as if you’d been friends your whole life. Their loud voices mesh together, making it harder to even hear your own voice if you were to speak out loud. A strong scent of incense takes over the room, so intense you can feel the beginning of a headache. There are people stumbling on their feet trying to get to the stool across from you, where you catch a glimpse of a man with a messy mohawk snorting something out of a dirty bill. 

Two strangers found their sits next to you at some point - not paying the same attention you had to the rip scarring through the cushions. Both get lost in their conversation, the man’s fluffed curls poking your face occasionally when he gets too excited with the hand gestures. You catch a word or two when they try to include you in it, you offer a simple nod, not bothering to try and understand their muddled words.

It all starts to feel a bit overwhelming, the amount of strangers surrounding you along with the nervous feeling that’s already taking over your stomach -- the drink not being of any help at all. You look around trying to find a familiar face, but you can barely spot the green ends of Lena’s hair through the crowd. Gazing down at your wrist clock, you figure there’s enough time for you to find a emptier spot so you can calm yourself down.

“I think I’m gonna get some air.” You say to no one in particular, seeing the man’s head nodding from your peripheral vision as you maneuver your way between leather-clad bodies towards the door.

You’re met with a just as packed hallway. Searching for a more vacant space, you spot a sign indicating an exit door that had been pointed at you earlier as the back alleyway. Without a second thought, you make your way around the crowded space. The nest of feet makes you trip slightly, making you crash against a girl standing next to the door. You mutter a quick apology, but you’re only met with a pitched giggle in response.

Once you reach the door you all but jolt your way out of the building. The brisk night air hitting your face, bringing a sense of relief near to instantly. You close your eyes at the feeling, breathing in as the breeze dances around your face and messes with your air.

“Well, if it’s not one of Abigail’s bunnies.” A voice cuts through the air, breaking you from your moment of relief. Your eyes flutter open, meeting Harry’s irises watching you. He’s leaning back on the wall across from you, foot prompt up and jacket thrown over his shoulders. His fingers fiddle with a closed package of cigarettes, dimples shadowing on his face in amusement.

You blink at him, taking a second to process his words. “I’m not a bunny, whatever that means.”

His lips twitch up. “I’m sure you’re not, darling.”

You observe as he thumbs the package in hand open, quickly grabbing a cigarette and resting it between his lips. “Need a light for that?”

His brows shoot up. “Didn’t take you for a smoker, angel.”

“I’m not, my friends are.” You reach for the back pocket of your jeans, pulling out a tiny pink lighter and throwing it towards him.

He catches it, holding it up between his index and middle finger. “You carry that around for your friends?” He keeps his eyes trained on you as he raises the lighter, flicking it so it paints the end of the cigarette a fiery orange. You can’t help but notice the chipped black nail polish adorning his nails, a couple of rings hugging his fingers, only adding to his rockstar persona. His cheeks hollow around it, taking a slow drag exhaling smooth puffs of smoke out of his puckered lips. He points the end of the cigarette towards you. “That’s a good girl.”

You feel your breath hitch on your throat, looking down as you feel for the second time in the day a heat taking over your cheeks. Standing awkwardly in the middle of the alleyway, your gaze waves around checking a few other lone smokers not too far from you. When you peek at him again, he’s still watching you with the same smug look he had when he first walked in. From this distance you can get a better look at his face, with it’s full colors, and you make a point to figure the forest green of his eyes flickering under the dim light. 

You clear your throat, trying to fill in the silence that’s taken over the space. Keeping your eyes still trained on a random spot where the alley meets the street, you speak up,  “So, how did get a gig here?”

“Trying to get to know me now, love?” There’s a smug tone to his voice, and it makes you shoot your eyes at him.

You shake your head, scoffing softly. “Was trying to be nice, forget it.”

He lets the air fall quiet for a beat, the corner of his lips tugging up as he takes another drag of the cigarette. “My uncle owns the place.”

“Ronnie is your uncle?” You crease your eyebrows.

“Yup.” He props his foot down from the wall, kicking a small rock on the floor. “He’s a right prick, but he can be nice if you get on his soft spot.” He shrugs, eyes meeting yours. “What ‘bout you, bunny?”

 “What about me?”

“How did you get in the spotlight?”

You breathe out a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not in the spotlight,” 

“You’re stepping on that stage in a few minutes, love, that’s hardly true.”

You chew on your lip, locking your eyes on your feet as you sway back and forth gently. “But I’m, like, on the invisible side of the stage.”

“Invisible side?” 

You shrug, trying to appear unflappable. “Yeah, well, no one ever notices the bassist.”

“I do.” He says without skipping a beat, and when you search for his eyes they’re aloof as if the words just left his lips without a single implication behind them. You wonder if there is one. Or maybe you’re just reading too much into it. Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop a flock of butterflies to sweep on your stomach as he shoots you a warm smile. He motions to the door behind you with his head, “Better get going, darling, if someone spots us talking they might think we’re friends.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“Did you see how crazy they went when we did Call Me?” Abbey leans over the table, not paying any mind to the way it starts to tilt towards her side. You and Jaz quickly balance the weight, straightening surface before the filled cups can start sliding down and causing a mess. You give her a scolding look for not being careful, but she doesn’t even look at you, only picking a fry from the pile in the middle and dipping inside her vanilla milkshake, sitting back and elbowing Lena next to her playfully. “And to think you said it’s not a gig song.”

“I didn’t say that.” Lena shakes the cup in her hand, circling the straw as to mix the melting ice cream inside, completely unfazed by her friend’s tease. “Just said we should do something new if people wanted old songs they would tune on that good times radio station, or whatever it’s called.”

“People like listening to classics!” Abbey protests, raising her voice bit, she’s either forgotten she’s in public or is just simply too stoned to care. Either way, you try to shush her, muffling a giggle with the back of your hand as you see a group two tables down looking back at her. She only huffs, leaning back down on her seat, “What do you suggest we play, then? Duran Duran?”

“I like Duran Duran.” You pester, trying to repress a smile as she shoots you a pointed look.

“I actually think Duran Duran is a great idea.” Lena backs you up, the same taunting smile reflecting on her face as she says it looking at you. 

“You two are completely insane if you think I’m singing new wave, might as well start to fill in for a new vocalist.” She shoves her hand full of fries, dropping to her side of the table with a shrug.

“Jaz you think that girl from your choir is available? The blonde one?” Lena bites into her straw, barely containing her laugh as Abbey narrows her eyes at her.

You watch in amusement from across the table, the contrast between Lena and Abbey looking comical as they continue to banter at each other. In one side there’s Lena who’s leaning back on the wall next to her, her neon pink jumpsuit standing out from anyone else in your group, hair hardly styled, being more of a nest in her head, the sides shaved and the back falling on her shoulders in a mullet. On the other side, Abbey’s swallowed in black, the only color being the red of her hair, that’s pushed up in a high side ponytail.

It was her idea to come to the diner after the gig, declining every offer of an after party (which is new for her) and insisting you had to have this moment to decompress together as a band. What you didn’t take account of, is that a diner on a Saturday night isn’t exactly a deserted place. So after spending an hour sitting on the parking lot, waiting for a table, you finally got yourselves a booth tucked by the back. And now as the place gets clearer and quieter by the minute, after getting your round of burgers, you share a big pile of fries, not ready to leave and sleep on this experience just yet.

“You know who also seem to enjoy the show? That Harry dude.” The mention of his name calls your attention to Lena. “Caught him in the corner a couple times watching us.”

You take a sip of his drink, trying to mask any expression that exposes the fact that you’d noticed too, maybe more than just a couple times.

To your relief, everyone focuses on Abbey as she lets out an annoyed huff. “Why’d you bring him up of all people.” She picks up her nearly empty cup a bit too harshly, her voice rising again. “He called me a Joan Jett wannabe! Fucking prick.”

 “You do dress like her,” Lena raises her brows in defiance.

“It’s called an inspiration, Adeline, doesn’t mean I’m trying to be her.” She barks at her friend. “Doesn’t give that knobhead the right to be a dick about it.”

“Why don’t you like him?” The question slips out of your lips before you can stop it, and you regret it as soon as all eyes on the table set on you, Abbey’s face creasing in an incredulous look as if the answer was obvious.

 “Are you serious? Did you hear how he spoke to us?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug, looking down at your lap, fiddling with the hem of your shorts. “Just seemed like he was trying to get a rise out of you.”

“He’s got a stick up his ass, babe. A full narcissist, it’s ridiculous.” She shakes her head, scrunching her nose in aversion. “He’s also a complete womanizer, it’s disgusting if you ask me.”

“I guess,” You gaze up at her.”

“Babe, he’s a charmer, I’ve seen it before, he knows how to sweet talk someone.” She explains in a sigh. “They’re all like that.”

“They?”

“Men in bands.” She picks up another fry, poking it on her forehead as she makes her point. “Have their heads bigger than the whole stage, think they can do just about anything.”

“Suppose that’s true,” You agree, not wanting to get further in this discussion.

She smiles, biting a piece of the fry before pointing it at you. “It is, which is why we are smart girls and don’t fuck with them.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

You’re aware that going for a walk by yourself at night is not a very secure choice. 

Even living in what you feel like could be the most monotone town in the area (where the biggest report on the local news was when two boys got stuck on a tree thanks to a dare with their friends). But it still doesn’t stop you from being careful, only going around the busier streets, watching the movement of people - mostly students - chatting the night away on the filled pub table, enjoying the short break between studies before going back at it once the weekend’s over. 

You stroll around with not much of a purpose, really, only needing a bit of time to yourself every so often when you feel the turmoil in your home becomes to much (on those weekends when both your roommates decide to stay home). So you just go on your usual path, breathing in the night air and enjoying some alone time.

The ending of your course is marked by none other than the Blue Bird, standing in a corner of the main street.

 A small group of people is gathered in front of it, smoking their cigarettes. You stare at them for a minute as you get closer to the led lights indicating the entrance of the pub, the girls with their bright-colored outfits, hair styled and puffed up as they laugh along to whatever one of the boys has said. One of them has a leather jacket thrown over her shoulder that almost swallows her figure, and you can only assume that it belongs to the man talking to her, leaning back on a payphone, the quiff in his hair so high it makes him look like a knock-off John Travolta. The thought makes you breathe out a laugh to yourself.

Once you reach the entrance you look at it mindlessly, not being able to see much from outside except the string curtain hanged on top of the open door. You turn on your heels, ready to start making your way back, but as you pay attention to the muffled sounds coming from inside the pub you stop on your tracks. A familiar tune catching your attention, making you turn in the direction of the entry. Somebody to Love. 

It peaks your curiosity. If you’re honest, you feel like covering a Queen song is probably one of the most bound for disaster decisions someone can make. But as you feel yourself approaching the entrance, the voice of whoever’s singing it all but lures you inside. It’s not the same as the original, of course, but the lower tone to it fits it just as beautifully and once you fully walk in you can almost feel your heart skip a beat to find Harry standing on stage. His eyes closed in concentration. 

It’s saturday. His saturday night. You forgot about that.

You don’t dare to try to mend amongst the crowd of people packed in front of the stage, making your way to the bar. You thankfully find an empty stool without much of a fight, allowing you a perfect vision of the stage.

Harry is playing the guitar, his voice blending perfectly with the vocals of the girls in the background, eyes closed as he feels every lyric coming out of his throat. His stage look is much different than the one he wore back when you first saw him, it’s something you reckon not many people could rock out as good as he does. A mismatched suit, light green blazer with a pink blouse underneath, along with bright blue trousers -- it’s as if he picked one piece from different colored suits (which you assume he probably did). The locks of his hair are no longer running wild on his head, instead, it’s gelled back, a single rebel strand falling charmingly against his forehead. You wonder if it’s on purpose.

It’s quite a sight to see him like this, you’re not gonna lie. All suited up with no tie, the blouse only partially buttoned so you notice a tease of some tattoos on his chest. You’d noticed his good looks before, it’s impossible not to, but there’s something about the stage glow that makes it impossible to look away from him. It’s mesmerizing.

To your surprise, the rest of his set mainly consists of originals, and unlike you’d expect for any amateur band that dares to sweep away from covers, he manages to hold the crowd’s attention as if he’s singing any other hit song you hear on the radio. Even not knowing the lyrics, people cheer along to the songs, moving to the beat as best as they can in the crowded space. And that’s a direct result of the charisma he holds while standing on stage.

It’s entrancing, really, how he holds himself as if he was born to be doing this. And you think maybe he was. 

There’s a mischievous glow to him, when he rocks out to his own songs, grinding slightly against the mic stand. A gesture that makes you flustered even from your seat a couple of meters away. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him even if you tried. And you’re sure as hell not trying.

At one point you feel a poke in your arm, turning around to be met with the barman who recognizes you from the week prior. He greets you with a shout over the noise, offering you a drink on his account. Your first instinct is to refuse, considering you weren’t even supposed to stay for long, but after a bit of insisting on his part you accept with a shy smile.

By the time he’s ending the last song, you’re at the edge of your seat, catching yourself wishing you could see more of him. The lights in the audience turn on as he wraps up the set, and just before he bows down with the rest of his band his eyes wander in your direction. It’s so quickly that you think you could’ve just imagined it, considering his eyes don’t meet yours again, only rushing his way backstage.

You blink at the empty spot where he once stood for a moment, almost feeling frozen in place as you try to take in what happened. Turning on your stool to face the bar, you gaze down at your forgotten drink. You hold it to your lips, deciding to finish it so you can ease your way out before anyone else spots you. Your attempt is frustrated, however, when you hear a voice coming from behind you.

“Reckon Abbey Road would throw a fit if she knew you’re wandering around watching my concert.” You turn to face Harry, finding him looking down at you, signature smirk making his dimples poke onto his cheeks. His hands are hidden inside the pockets of his dress pants and he’s taken off his blazer, causing the pink of his blouse to stand out even more.

You chew the inside of your lip. “I can make my own decisions, you know.”

“That’s good to hear, bunny.” His smile grows, hand leaving the pocket to motion at the empty spot next to you. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Be my guest.”

He sits on the empty stool, turning to the bartender that’s handing a drink to a man standing behind you. “Can you give the lady another one of what she was drinking? On my tab.”

“Oh you don’t have to, I was about to--” You begin, but the man behind the counter doesn’t care to listen, only picking up your empty glass and moving away to fill it up. “leave.”

“Already?” Harry arches his eyebrows, resting his arm on top of the counter and leaning towards you. His voice comes out a bit softer, dropping the playful tone, “let me buy you a drink, angel.”

You ignore the way the hairs on your neck rise at the petname. “You really don’t have to--”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” You breathe out, not being able to hold back your smile once his own grows on his face.

As if on cue, the bartender comes back with two glasses, setting them in front of the two of you. You don’t fail to note the fact that he gives Harry his drink without being asked to.

He picks up his glass, holding it up, to which you do the same, clinking your glasses slightly before taking a sip.  “So, what brings you here tonight? Measuring the competition?”

 “I was just walking around, heard a lousy cover of Somebody To Love, and decided to come in.”

He throws his head back a bit in laughter, nose scrunching adorably. You have to look away as to not find yourself staring. “A Queen fan, then?”

 “You could say so.”

“A pretty girl with a good taste in music, gonna steal m’heart if you keep going, bunny.” And just like that, it’s like he takes all the words out of your mind. You only let out a small chuckle, taking a sip of your drink as you look away to cove the blush that paints your cheeks. His eyes are still trained on you, though. “Was it any good?”

“Huh?” You blink back at him.

“The cover.” He grins. “Or was it really that lousy?”

“Oh, it was amazing.” You say truthfully, clearing your throat. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thank you.” He bows his head slightly, smiling at you. And unlike before, it’s not smug, but rather warm, you smile back at him. “Enjoyed the show, then?”

“I did.” You nod.

“I’m glad.” He runs his finger around the brim of his glass, tapping against it once with a click of his ring against the glass.  “What would you change about it?”

The question takes you back. “What would I change?” 

 “Yeah.” He clasps his hands over his lap, moving his feet on the floor so his stool swivels from one side to the other.

“Uhm…” You crease your brows, trying to hack your brain for an answer. Your eyes land on his blouse, still halfway unbuttoned. “Your shirt.”

“M’shirt?” He questions, brows shooting towards his hairline, clearly not expecting the answer. He gazes down at the piece on his body, fingers pitching the material as he looks back at you. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Not a big fan of pink.” You shrug.

“Now, we just can’t have that, bunny.” He clicks his tongue. “Pink is the new color of rock n roll!”

You chuckle. “Says who?”

“Says me.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, I’m sorry then, mister rockstar.”

His face lights up in a giggle, lips parting to say something but before he can let the words out a hand rests on his shoulder calling both your attentions to the man standing next to him. You recognize him from standing next to Harry on stage as the guitar player.

“We’re hopping over to Eamon’s.” He doesn’t acknowledge you until Harry’s eyes hover over in your direction. 

“That’s fine, think I’ll stay behind this time.” Harry looks back at his friend, but you see him glimpsing at you from the corner of his eyes.

You watch as his friend raises his brows, gazing between the two of you in a curious manner. You clear your throat, shifting in your seat as you look at them. “ It’s fine, I should get going anyway.”

“You don’t have to,” he says in a blink, a smirk twitching on his lips almost as if to cover up how quickly he said it. He turns back to his friend, who’s still watching the interaction with raised eyebrows.  “You can go without me, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Harry, you didn’t have to.” You subconsciously reach for his arm, retracting your touch just as fast when he glances at it. Clearing your throat, you play with “I really should get going, I was supposed to be on a walk after all.”

“Let me walk you back then,” he gets up from his stool, giving his friend a brief hug before turning back to you and extending his hand for you to take. Your lips part to protest, feeling as if you’re holding him back even though it was his decision to stay behind, but before the words can even come out of your mouth he beats you to it,  “there’s no way I’m letting you go home by yourself this late, love.”

You sigh, shoulder dropping in defeat as you hold back a smile. Taking his hand, you stand up, “okay.”

The main street hasn’t exactly quieted down since you first walked by it, in fact, it only seems like it’s gotten rowdier. Time only increasing the buzz wandering in the air around the people filling the bars, voices louder, filled glasses clinking more frequently. As you stroll through it side by side there’s a comment or to that floats in the air, but you have to all but shout it, fighting with the turmoil of noise.

As soon as you turn into the first street away from the crowds it’s as if someone had turned off the sound completely, the nest of voices getting far-off in the distance and the loudest sound being of the night breeze kissing the tree branches above you. You can feel Harry glancing up at you from the corner of your eye and it doesn’t take long until his voice echoes in the air in an attempt to make small talk.

It’s surprising to you, how easy it is to be drawn in a conversation with him. Harry’s essentially not the same offstage as he is under the spotlight, most people aren’t. There’s no need for him to bloat his charisma when talking to you, he’s quieter. Shy, almost. And it takes you back a bit, to see such contrast in a short amount of time. 

The magnetic force to him, however, still lingers even when he’s like this. You feel drawn to it, wanting to hear him speak about everything that comes to mind, just to savor the way he articulates his words, voice so calm and low it sends an electric chill down your spine. As he tells you about his music inspirations, going on the story about the time he traveled alone to crash a Fleetwood Mac concert, hands brushing against yours when he walks, you catch yourself wondering what it would feel like to link them together.

Once you reach your street, just a block away from the entrance gate of your home, you notice the front lights are yet to be turned off, indicating your roommates are still up and around -- most likely arguing about MTV’s top ten of the week. The realization makes you come to an abrupt stop, catching Harry off guard as he takes a few steps before realizing you stayed behind. 

“Wait.” You say once he turns around, brows furrowed in a silent question as to why you stopped. “Uhm… You can drop me off here… It’s fine.”

“What do you mean? Is it too far? I don’t mind walking-”

“No!” You interrupt. “It’s not that, my house is right there, see?” You point to the bricked building no too far from where you stand.

“Why do y’want me to drop you off here, then?” The crease on his face deepens.

“I-- it’s just--” you begin, not knowing how to say it. “It’s just the girls are still awake, and..”

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue, an amused grin expanding on his cheeks. “Don’t wanna get scolded for hanging out with the enemy.”

“Don’t say like that.” You chuckle at yourself, looking down in embarrassment. “They just will never let me hear the end of it.”

“I get it, bunny.” He takes easy steps towards you, closing the space as he stands tall in front of you. You hold your breath as you look up at him, meeting his irises glimmering in enjoyment, dimples shadowing on his cheek. His hand reaches up, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear and you swear if he gets any closer he’ll be able to hear your heart thumping in anticipation. “Had a lovely time with you.”

“Me, uhm--” you clear your throat as your voice cracks, blood flooding your cheeks. “Me too.”

The streetlight above gives his face a golden glow that almost takes your breath away, his hair glistening in the light due to the gel pushing it back, and now even more rebel strands curl against his forehead. You half expect him to lean down, you don’t know why he would, but for a moment it seems like he will. To your dismay, however, he steps back, giving you one last smile before moving out of your way on the sidewalk. “I’ll see you around, then.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“I have some exciting news for you.”

Abbey’s voice startles you, not realizing she’d entered the dressing room while you focused on the book on your lap. Since you’ve gotten a spot at every other weekend on the pub, your routine just seemed to get even more busy, with rehearsals almost every day. So, because of that you barely find time to do your assignments. And with a book report due just around the corner, you’d thought maybe you could sneak in some reading time after the gig when everyone’s down at the bar and not prancing and screaming around the dressing room.

 Your assumptions shows itself to be wrong, however, when your perky friend bounces her way to where you sit. She kneels next to the couch, crossing her arms on top of your legs and resting her chin on them, looking up at you expectantly, lips lifted in a side grin. 

“What is it?”

“Got us an after-party, babe.” you notice a few colored lollies in her hand when she removes the plastic protecting a red one, shoving it between your lips before you can even protest. “And you’re coming with us.”

“I’d love to but I have class tom—“ Your voice is muffled around the sweet. 

She rolls her eyes, standing to sit next to you on the arm of the couch. “You should stop wasting your life with an outdated system” 

“You mean getting a degree?” 

“Do you watch the news? We’re about to be the last generation to live fully, the world is about to break into nuclear wars all around.” She says as a matter-of-fact, turning to rest her legs on top of your lap. “Cosmo said we probably won’t even make it to the 2000s” 

“Who’s Cosmo?” 

She sighs, reaching to move a strand of your hair behind your ear. Her voice comes out soft, but calculated, “what matters is that we should enjoy our time while we have it.” 

“You’re giving a whole speech about nuclear war to convince me to go to a party with you.” You arch your brows at her. 

“Yes.” 

You sigh, shoulders falling in defeat as you let yourself be convinced. “Okay. But I’ll—” 

“Great!!” She squeals, moving her legs from your lap and leaning down to grab your face, pressing a quick kiss on top of your hair before jumping from the couch, and out of the room. 

Once you arrive at the location of the after-party, Abbey leads you and Lena to a tall gate by the side of the house, explaining that you’re walking in from the back garden, considering the front door is locked. You find it odd, and if wasn’t for the muted sound of instruments echoing inside the bricked walls of the place, you’d doubt there was even a party happening here at all. The front of it was as regular as the other surrounding suburbian homes, grass neatly trimmed and the front lights turned off, as if nobody was even home.

Which is why you’re visibly taken back when you walk by the gate into the back area, finding an old vintage bus that could be around ten or even twenty years old, sitting in the middle of the grass. The wheels of it have been taken off, and every inch of the exterior is covered by graffiti, so much you couldn’t even make out the original color of it if you tried. Some of them are unreadable scribbles tangling on top of each other. Some are colorful drawings painted over them -- two sunflowers catch your attention, marked just above where the wheel would be, growing tall along the side and above the window.

“I know, right?” Abbey nods at your astounded expression. “Legend says John Lennon signed it somewhere.”

“Really?” You look at her, not able to hold back the way your voice pitches in amazement.

“Dunno, never looked for it.” She shrugs. “C’mon I’ll show you.”

She grabs your hand, dragging you to the side of the vehicle pointing at some random drawings and explaining the rumors behind their meanings. You try to concentrate on her excited babbles, but as you see Lena walking away from the corner of your eye you look up to watch her meet with a girl you’ve never seen. Before you can focus back on your friend, something else catches your attention, sitting on a wooden bench under a large tree, no too far from where you stand.

Harry’s in a small group sat in a circle. You recognize two men from his band sitting on the grass with guitars propped on their laps, one being the same that interrupted you the night at the bar. The rest are women who seem to have come right out of Fleetwood Mac’s tour bus, their long hairs pushed back with hairbands and earthtoned flare pants. But you barely even care about the ones sitting on the grass, humming along to the strings of the guitars. What grabs your attention is the one next to harry on the bench, her arm draped over his shoulder as she dabbles flower petals playfully on his hair. 

You hardly take in his appearance, half-mindedly noticing the tattoos decorating his arms that pokes out of his tank top and the twirls on his hair as the girl winds her fingers on it. it’s hard not to remember Abbey’s words when she said he knows how to sweet talk his way around, and the thought of having fallen down on his trap only makes your heart pang on your chest. 

“-- That’s basically why they won’t let anyone paint over it anymore.” You turn back to Abbey as she points to the sunflowers you’d spotted earlier, nodding along as if you’d heard everything she said. She looks at you, “but I like this way better, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah.” You agree, not exactly knowing what to.  

She wraps her arm around yours, and you grasp the minty scent of her perfume as she pulls you close. “Let’s go inside.” 

There’s an urge inside of you to peek back over your shoulder to catch a last glimpse of Harry, but you push it to the back of your mind, allowing Abbey to guide you around the bus where the entrance door is hanging open. 

A small group of people greet you inside the bus, amongst them is the said ‘Cosmo’.  He seems like the exact kind of person you’d imagine Abbey hanging around on her weekends’ escapades. Dressed in a baby blue velvet suit with nothing underneath his blazer except a few of - what you assume - hand-painted tattoos, matching with a rainbow stripe drawn on the side of his face, starting at the bridge of his nose and going all the way to the curve of his jaw. His hair hits just around his shoulders, the sides shaved so it’s like a puffed version of a mullet, edges dyed in a bright shade of red. He toys with a lit joint between his purple lips, picking it up and offering to you with a raise of his brows.

Normally you’d decline the offer, especially coming from someone you’d just met, but there’s an annoying feeling settling itself at the pit of your stomach. One you want to ignore but can only do so much to dull it, so you accept the joint, reaching for it and placing it in your mouth. 

You’re not a regular smoker by any means, and when you inhale you can feel the smoke burning your throat as it moves down to curl inside your lungs. It makes you want to cough it out but you hold it in, trying to take in everything before huffing it out in a choked breath.

“Do you want a drink?” One of the girls asks you, already pouring you a purple drink inside a labeless plastic bottle.

“What’s in this?” You accept the cup, giving her an skeptic look.

“Pure fuel, babe.” Abbey leans on your shoulder from behind.

You hang out in the bus for a while, and, to your surprise, you don’t feel left out as they keep notice to include you in their conversations. The drink ends up being not that bad, and, even having no idea what’s in it except for the very artificial citric taste mixed with some very strong cheap alcohol, you still refill your cup after you finish it. 

It’s a nice feeling, to get a bit looser in a party and allowing yourself to have some adventurous fun. And as time goes by and your mind gets cloudier, the group starts to disperse. Two of them find a spot in the back with as much privacy as they could get in a party to swallow each others faces. Another one passes out in one of the seats behind you, hugging the empty plastic bottle as if it’d run away from them. It leaves just Abbey and Cosmo with you, discussing with each other about something that you’ve stopped paying attention a long while ago.

You just watch them silently, resting your head back on the seat and feeling the late hours weightening on your eyelids. You feel like you could doze off at any moment, but what stops you from it is a loud screeching sound of an amplifier from inside the house. It startles you, making you jump slightly on your seat as you hear a voice speaking almost like a groan, and you’re not sure if it’s your drunken mind or the inaudible words but you can’t make out a single thing that’s being said. A crease deepens between your eyebrows and you turn to question your friend about it but, before you can do so what seems like the most obnoxious cover of  We Built This City starts playing.

Abbey gasps as the chords of the song somehow get even louder, grasping her hand on the man’s arm. “Oh my god!” She squeals, exchanging a look with Cosmo as they both all but jump from their seats. She glances down at you, “We’re going in, are you coming?”

You raise your brows at her, trying to hide the scrunch on your face. “I’m good.”

She nods, making her way out of the bus, her feet stumbling on each other as she holds onto her friend’s shoulder to keep her balance. And just like that, you’re left alone on the leather seat.

You peek at the couple in the back, eyes bulging slightly as you see the girl has lost her shirt, the boy’s hands caress her chest as they keep their lips locked harshly. Deciding to give them a bit more privacy, you make your way out of the bus as well, the contrast from the compact air inside the vehicle to the crisp wind of the outdoors sending chills down your body.

Looking around, you realize most people hanging around are gone, probably gone inside the house. You can’t help but let your eyes wander to the spot you’d seen Harry earlier, and you don’t hold back the shock in your face when you find him still sitting on the bench, but this time with no one else around him. He fiddles with a lighter on his hand, flickering every so often to watch the weak flame before letting it die again. 

Your feet start to move before you can really grasp that you’re walking towards him, your head still a bit cloudy from the substances in your bloodstream. He looks up once you get close to him, signature smirk growing on his lips as he glances up at you.

“Look what we have here.” He leans back, “a lost bunny.” 

“Hi, Harry.” You say simply.

His smile turns a bit softer. “Where are your bandmates?”

“Celebrating.” You shrug.

“Shouldn’t you be as well?”

“I am.” You hold up the mostly empty red cup.

He chuckles. “I see, having fun by yourself then?”

You focus on a spot beyond his head, suddenly feeling timid under his gaze. “Seems like it.”

“Want to join my private party here?” He shifts to his side, patting the spot next to him. “S’very exclusive, as you can see.”

“Well, I’m honored to be invited, then.” You sit down on the space he made for you.

For a moment, there’s a silence between the two of you, the only sound being the jarring cover of  Everybody Wants to Rule The World. The notes of it are so off that you can’t help but huff a relieved breath when it comes to an end, enjoying the few seconds of silence before they begin another song. 

A small groan leaves your lips when the noise starts again, catching Harry’s attention as you feel his eyes land on the side of your face. “It should be illegal to ruin great songs like this.” You shake your head to yourself, speaking your thoughts out loud in a rush of confidence. “They should get arrested for it.”

He chuckles. “You’re not wrong.”

Your eyes dart at him, meeting his. It’s hard to miss the way his irises glimmer under the moonlight. When he glances down at the lighter still in his hands you take the opportunity to really have a look at him. The proximity makes you aware of a small constellation of freckles kissing his nose, and the stubble starting to poke out the skin along his jawline. You want to blame the haziness in your mind for the thoughts of how it would feel like to have it scratching against your skin. Or how it would feel under your lips as you nibble your way all the way to his rosy lips. You want to push these away, belittle them as nothing but drunken thoughts. But you know very well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve let yourself be entertained by them.

A pitched scream takes you out of your head. You realize there’s been a beat of silence since he’s spoken, so you clear your throat, a warmth creeping up on your neck as if he’d been able to hear your thoughts. “Do you know them?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Not really, no. They played in the pub once, Ronnie hated them.” He glances at you, corner of his lips itching upwards. “Call themselves Crystal Illusion, so there’s that.”

“Christ.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. “And here I thought it couldn’t get any worse.”

The sound of his giggle makes you look back at him, catching the sight of his dimples carving deep on his cheeks. “You’re really something, aren’t you, bunny?”

“Why do you call me that?” The question rolls of your tongue before you can even think about it. His brows raise at your question, and you decide to enjoy the rush of confidence and pick on it further. “Dunno if I’m supposed to feel offended or charmed.”

 “Don’t mean it as a tease, can tell that much.” He smiles, shrugging slightly. “You just remind me of a bunny.”

The words pique your curiosity. “How so?”

He looks back down to his lap, and if it wasn’t for the poor lighting you would be sure of the blush taking over his cheeks. “Just all cute -- could tell you were a bit reserved, and like, curious. Had your eyes wandering all around when I first saw you.” He moves his head around lightly as if to explain his point and you have to bite back a smile. “And when you were focused you’d scrunch your nose a bit. Like a bunny.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say I have big ears.” You try to humor, searching for his eyes.

He laughs, looking up at you. “I mean, now that you’ve mentioned it…”

Your gasp shifts into a giggle as you push him away playfully. “Well, if I’m a bunny...” You pause, racking your mind to think of an analogy for him, but your mind is still a bit slowed down, your thoughts taking a beat too long to catch up to your words. When you glance down to the arm that’s brushing against yours, you notice the tattoo peaking on his skin. You reach for it without thinking about it, fingers tracing the ink as you take in the drawing, his eyes follow your touch curiously. “Then you’re an eagle.” You cringe to yourself as soon as the words come out of your mouth, attempting to mask it as you breathe out a laugh.

He arches his brows, lips fluttering, trying to hold back a smile. “You think I’ll kill you?”

“Oh shit, you’re right.” You cover your face with your hand, shaking your head at yourself. “Didn’t think that one through.” Your laughs meld together for a moment, slowly dying off and giving space a comfortable silence. The only sounds being the nightly hum of cicadas and the whisper of the breeze against the branches of the trees, that and, well, the faint screams of instruments from inside the house. Looking up at him, a breath hitches when you realize the proximity of his eyes to yours. You try to tease him but when you speak your voice comes out lower than you expected, almost in a whisper,  “so you think I’m cute?”

“Course I do.” He says in a blink. “Don’t think that’s much of a secret, love.”

You chew on your bottom lip, not missing the way his eyes dart down on your face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, wiggling his eyebrow teasingly. “Think I’m pretty?”

“I won’t inflate your ego if that’s what you want.”

“I tried.” He breathes out a laugh, eyes moving back down on your face but this time he doesn’t rush them back to yours, not hiding the intent of his gaze. For the first time, you’re glad for the background noise, afraid that if it wasn’t for it he’d be able to hear the thumping of your heart.“Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?” You blink at him, not because you didn’t hear him, but because you’re a bit taken back at the forwardness of the question.

 He moves his arm to rest on the back of the bench, turning his hand to play with the tips of your hair. “Can I kiss you, bunny?” He repeats.

You nod before you can find it in you to voice your answer, clearing your throat, “yes.”

The hand that’s not in your hair moves to caress your cheek, he takes a moment to look at you, thumb rubbing your cheek gently before he leans in. Your eyes flutter close instinctively, holding your breath in anticipation as you feel his lips on the corner of your mouth. He keeps them there for a beat before pulling back, tilting your face a little just to finally close the space between your mouths.

The kiss starts slow. Uncertain, even. His lips are soft against yours, warm breath hitting your cupid bow as he sucks in your bottom lip gently. You feel his hand cupping your jaw, sneaking behind your neck as he pulls you closer and you all but melt under his touch. Being this close you can smell the scent of his cologne mixed with the smoke of cigarettes, and something about it is so sensual you can’t help but grip on his shirt as to have something to hold on to.

You can feel yourself getting lost on his touch, shamelessly scooping to the side as you enlace your thighs for the sake of being closer to him. His hand falls on your knee, rubbing it as your tongue line on his bottom lip.

It’s the sound of the door that leads to the house sliding open that falls like a bucket of ice water on your head, reminding you of your surroundings, and that you’re not, in fact, alone with him in the garden, which means any of your friends could easily spot you if they were to walk outside.

  It’s almost like he reads your mind when you pull away from him, loosening your grasp on the material of his shirt. His lips don’t let you get far, trailing their way along your jaw until he can bite on your lobe. “Relax, petal” He whispers, pulling back to look at you as your noses brush together. “They won’t see us, even if they do they’re probably too stoned to even care.”

You let out a weak chuckle, gazing at the door where a group of people stumble their way towards the bus, voices loud as they slur incoherent words. It’s hard to see inside the house as most of the lights inside seem to be turned off, but you can tell how packed it is, bodies pressed so close together it makes you wince slightly just with the thought of being amongst them. Looking back at him, you ponder for a second before nodding. “You’re right.”

A grin paints on his face before he leans in, closing the space between you once again.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“Still with us?” A call of your name on the mic snaps you out of your thoughts.

Looking up, you’re met with your bandmates curious eyes staring right at you and you realize you’ve probably been too lost in your own head to pay attention to the conversation in hand. Your lips part for a split second, trying to think of an answer that doesn’t give away your lack of focus but a single look at Abbey’s arched brows and you know you’ve been caught. 

You clear your throat, lips tugging on a guilty smile. “Sorry, I am now.” 

It’s hard not to let your eyes glimpse to the back of the room, where the sole reason for your distraction sits quietly on his regular spot, tucked behind his journal and doing his own thing. But you hold back the stare, knowing your moves were being watched by your friend who’s back to talking about the setlist changes for the night, and who would not be happy in the slightest to notice your wandering eyes falling on the one person she despises the most. You wonder how she’d react if she got her hands on the piece of paper burning through the back pocket of your denim shorts. 

The message was short and simple, but the connotation behind it carried a much stronger meaning to it.

Meet me in the back before the gig, want to see you. -H

You found it tucked inside your case, lying innocently on top of your bass, apparent enough so anyone who’d opened the case could’ve found it before you. Surely, no one else did, otherwise, you wouldn’t hear the end of it from the minute you’d stepped into the place. Which makes you wonder how he managed to slip in the note sneakily enough without anyone noticing it, but the curiosity is well dulled in your mind by the pounding of your heart.

To your dismay, however, you barely got a look at him throughout the rehearsal. You got to The Blue Bird later than you’d intended to, the tutoring session you had on the day ended up running later than you’d expected. So by the time you stepped through the string curtains of the pub  Harry was already tucked on the shadowy corner and everyone else was hanging by the stage waiting for you, barely giving you a second to set your bag in the dressing room.

So it’s hard for you not to stare when he gets up from his seat, walking into the lighter space of the bar with his signature smirk painted on his face. You’d just gone through the last song of your set for the second time -- an amplified version of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (Lena insisting on repeating it after messing up on the first try). He’s holding a maroon leather jacket on his arm, along with his journal, leaving his arms bare under his Bowie tank top -- which, as he approaches the stage you notice the uneven hem on the sleeves, suggesting he might’ve cut them off himself.  His hair is running wild as usual, the fringe curling against his forehead and you chew on your lip at the thought of running your hands through it as you did not even a week ago.

He reaches to the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as he reaches the end of the stage. “That was a great one, everybody, maybe if you keep it going we can get you a spot on that wacky show they’re premiering.” He sets the stuff he’s carrying on the stage floor, crossing his arms on top of it. “What’s it called again? ‘S like ‘gag me with a spoon’ or something like that.”

“We wouldn’t want to steal your spot again.” The words leave your lips before you can process them, for a moment forgetting you’re not alone with him so your playful tease can be easily interpreted as mocking. 

He rests the things he’s carrying on his arm on the stage floor, hoisting himself up almost effortlessly before picking them up again, walking the few steps it takes for him to stand in front of you. His lips are tugged on a shit-eating grin. “Got another feisty one in here, huh?” He crosses his arms under his chest, and you can’t help but note the way his muscles flex at the gesture, his tattoos dancing slightly on his skin. “What makes you so smug about stealing my spot? Reckon Ronnie only said he needed more chicks hanging around.”

“If that’s the case then there’s no need for you to be intimidated by a band of chicks, then.” You keep your eyes trained on his, but you can notice Abbey’s getting wider from over his shoulder. 

His lips twitch up, and you can tell he’s holding back a genuine smile as not to crack your act. “Am I intimidated now, bunny?”

“It’s what it looks like.” You shrug, now holding back your own smile.

“Maybe you need to take a better look at things then, angel.”  He starts walking backwards in the direction of the backstage. “Wouldn’t want any more misunderstandings, would we?”

“Don’t think we would.” 

And with that, he turns around, walking the rest of the way out and disappearing as he rounds the corner to where you know it’s the door leading to the back alleyway. You just stand there quietly for a moment, following his steps as you try to recollect what just happened. For the two of you, it was clear that the tension was the product of an unspoken want circling around, but you question for a second if that’s the impression that your friends had. And as you look at their expressions, raised brows and mouths agape, it’s hard to tell.

“Holy shit, babe.” Abbey is the first to speak out. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

You hold back a relieved exhale, shrugging slightly as you remove the strap of the bass from your shoulder. “He was just getting on my nerves.” You face away from her, placing the instrument on the stand.

The anticipation of meeting Harry grows impatiently on your stomach as you try to find a gap where no one’s attention is on you to sneak out of the dressing room. It seems as if every time you think you can do it, someone pulls you in, either to try to push you another pill of something you’re not sure what it is or to ask you to help with their makeup. But as the room gets filled and people get higher, their focus become more diffuse, and finally, after finishing assisting Jaz with her eyeliner (her hands were too shaky to get it right) you manage to slip out the room into the corridor.

There’s a sense of recognition that takes over your body when you feel the wind messing with your hair as you step out the building to be met with Harry’s figure leaning back on the wall, not too far from the spot you found him the last time you’d been in this same position. His eyes shoot in your direction as soon as you step through the door as if he’d been waiting for this just as eagerly as you were. He quickly throws the butt of the cigarette on the floor, stepping on it before standing tall as you slowly approach him.

“Hi.” You say simply, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shorts -- not knowing with to do with your hands.

“Hi.” His grin grows. “Came back here to intimidate me?” He teases, biting on his bottom lip.

“Actually,” you scrunch your lips, deciding to play his game as you reach on your back pocket, retrieving the small piece of paper and holding it up. “Got this very desperate note from a secret admirer but I don’t see any hotties here.” You click your tongue, looking around as you let out a loud sigh. “Guess it might be just a misunderstanding.”

He laughs, hands reaching for your waist to draw you closer. “That’s too bad, guess you’re stuck with me”

“Yeah?” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, stepping closer so that your chests meet and his forehead falls against yours.

He nods in response, your noses brushing gently before he leans to meet your mouth with his own.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

There’s a thrilling feeling that settles deep within you when it comes to holding a secret.

It’s that spark of excitement that brings a kaleidoscope of butterflies to come alive on your stomach. The kind of feeling that makes every cell of your body feel not just simply alive but as if it’s burning with joy. Which is why you guess falling into a routine of sneaking around with Harry on secret little rendezvous was so easy, to begin with. 

Of course, your friends’ opinions are important to you, but you know that you’re an adult very much capable of making your own decisions. That means sleeping with anyone you’d like despite their ill opinions about the person, without having to sneak around as if you’re teenagers hiding from your parents. You know that, and you try to remind yourself of that every time you catch yourself lying to them about your whereabouts at every coming day. 

In the beginning, you weren’t even sure that there was anything to it except for a couple of innocent kisses, maybe some not-so-innocent touches here and there, but nothing really worth even telling anyone. You’d only really see Harry on the weekends. When he would steal moments with you before your gigs when you “had to take a breather”. Or when mysteriously disappeared from your friends’ sides during after parties after they already had their minds buzzed and noses backed up. Or even when your night walks would tart becoming gradually longer due to your curiosity getting the best of you once you found yourself in front of the familiar Pub on Harry’s nights.

The weekends’ escapades took a different turn when they graduated to weekdays. Things took a quick turn then. It started with him offering you a ride to the houses for your tutoring or to the library (stealing kisses every now and then, of course). And before you knew, you were making up classes or books to rent for your oblivious roommates, only to spend hours on Harry’s car. Coming back with puffy lips and messy hair.

Part of you felt bad for going behind their backs, every now and then feeling an urge to pull Lena aside and gush about him for as long as your heart desired.

But it’s the thrill of it, of having something that’s just yours to have, that no one else knows except the two of you. The adrenaline that comes with the possibility of getting caught at any moment, but being able to get away with it. It’s almost addicting to you, so you prefer to have these moments just to yourself.

As the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months, it just made it harder for you to tell them you’d been hiding a whole relationship for this amount of time. Well, not exactly a relationship, but as close as you ever got to one anyway.

And it’s not like you’d never had anyone before. Being in the music scene, you’ve had your quite a few amounts of flings — even though not as many as it’s expected. But no one has ever left you as enamored as him, especially not as quickly as he has. He’s intriguing, carrying around that mysterious aura around him that leaves everyone wondering the secrets he holds in his heart. 

Although when it’s just the two of you it’s like this cocky persona of him completely dissolves. It’s a complete contrast from the image he carries around the restless mouths of prying people. He’s not that enigmatic heartbreaker who hops around strangers beds as if to live that classic Rock ‘n Roll lifestyle you see on TV. Rather, he’s shown himself to be the most caring man you’ve ever been with.

And that’s how you found yourself in this position, your body awkwardly positioned on your side in the rear seat of his car. A hand tangled on his hair while the other pulls at his Bowie shirt, you know your lips are probably starting to get swollen and his are taking a raspberry tone from the way they’d been sucking at one another. So with that in mind, you part from his mouth, trailing kisses along his cheek, and a final one at his nose before sitting back on the seat.

Just as you predicted his rose-colored lips are plump as he grins back at you, his locks are wild on top of his head. His hair has grown around his jawline now, curls poking out in all directions and you can’t help but reach your hand to pull his fringe back from his forehead. His smile growing fondly and eyes fluttering shut as you run your hand through his strands. 

When you pull away you catch a glimpse of your wrist clock, cringing slightly at yourself as you realize you should start thinking of heading home.

“I have to go soon.” You let your hand fall to your lap with a sigh.

“Already?” He pouts. “Barely had any time together.”

“We’ve been here for two hours, silly.” You giggle at his dramatics, leaning to press your lips on his chin.

He throws an arm over your shoulder, keeping you close. “Exactly, barely any time.”

He turns his head to connect your mouths once more before pulling you against him so your head rests on his shoulder. You look beyond the glass of the windshield to the nearly empty street -- saving from a few people walking back from what you assume is a day of work

He’s parked on the usual spot two blocks away from your house, and from this angle, you can see the front gate that leads to the entrance. The front seat of the coupe still folded forward as there was no reason to set it back to place considering the circumstance in which you were on the backseat. You had called home from the payphone in front of the library, letting Lena know you’d be home late to catch up with some studies -- another lie to your pile.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between the two of you -- apart from the low voice of the radio Dj interrupting A-ha’s Take On Me in the background. If you move your head just right you can hear his speeding heartbeat, and if wasn’t for the faltering on his breathing you’d assume he was just as relaxed as you are. You move away from him, his arm falling around your waist, looking at his profile as he pokes at his jeans, a crease between his eyebrows.

You rest your cheek against the leather seat, grasping his chin with your fingers and gently moving his head so his gaze meets yours. “What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He breathes out a laugh, shrugging lightly as he brings his hand to scratch at the tip of his nose. “Nothing much.”

“But there’s something.” You insist, being able to tell he’s pondering over something.

“It’s just-- I just thought--” he pauses with a sigh. You play with the rings on his fingers, waiting patiently for him to express his thoughts, you can tell he’s a bit nervous which is an adorable change from his regular charming demeanor. “I wanted to maybe-- like, we could have a date.”

. 

You straighten your posture, lips parting as you take in his words. “A date?”

“Yeah… A proper one, you know?” He shrugs, eyes darting back on yours. “If you want to, that is! Don’t wanna pressure you or anything.”

“I do, H.” You nod, chewing on your lip as you try to recollect your thoughts. It’s not as if you don’t want to go on a date with him, that couldn’t be further from the truth. But turning it into a formality just changes completely the scheme of things and, as much as you felt like this is an inevitable step to take at some point, you still feel protective to an extent of this secret you have between the two of you. So you can help but let your voice come a little apologetic, “it’s just--”

“I know.” His shoulders drop and you can’t help but feel a tug at your heart.

“Hey.” You caress his cheek. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” His lips perk up in a small smile, and you lean forward to give him a peck.

He’s still looking at you with puppy-like eyes and it does nothing to help the heaviness in your heart from turning him down. You lean again this time to spread kisses around his cheek as an attempt to pull a giggle out of him, but you only earn a light chuckle so you seat back tilting your head to look at him with a pluck of your lips. “C’mon where’s my smug rockstar gone?”

“He’s right here.” The shadow of his dimples appears on his cheeks. His voice comes out low and gentle, as if he’s still pondering over what you said earlier, “just toned him down a bit.”

You sigh, trying to rack your brain to another subject that can distract him from it. You catch sight of the slightly smudged end of his eyeliner, and your face lights up as you remember a request you’ve always wanted to bring it up. “Do you want to know something?” Biting back a cheeky grin, you cross your arms under your chin as he looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Should let me do your makeup, so you can be a proper rockstar.”

He lets out a laugh. “Do I need that, now?”

“Mhm, said it yourself, it’s part of the look.”

“Did I say that?” You nod, teeth still biting on your lip. He lets out a breath, contemplating the idea for a second before looking back at you. “Okay then.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Course, could never say no to you even if I tried.” He lets his hand fall on your thigh, rubbing it gently. “On one condition, though.” You arch your brows in question. “Come to my gig tomorrow.”

You face scrunches in confusion. “I always go to your gigs.”

“Yeah but I mean go earlier, like so we can hang out before and stuff.” His finger starts to draw circles on your knee. “So you can do my makeup, too, can go on stage looking all pretty.”

“As if you could ever look anything less than pretty.” You say before sitting back, thinking of his proposal. “You’re asking me to be there early…”

“What? D’you have plans already? Got a boyfriend I don’t know about?” And there it is, the teasing Harry you know.

You shake your head, poking his side playfully. “Oh yeah, maybe I should’ve mentioned him sooner.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes before looking at you, his voice coming down to a pleading tone. “Come, please.”

Before the yes can roll off your tongue you remember that you wouldn’t be alone with him. “What about your band?” 

He furrows his brows. “What about them?”

“Well, do they know?”

“They couldn’t care less about us, baby.” He sighs, head falling back on the seat as he moves his hand so it rests on your inner thigh, rubbing a spot in there. “Have no meaning hiding you.”

You can’t hold back the smile that grows on your lips, leaning to press a kiss to his mouth before letting professing in just above a whisper, “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“‘S poking my eye.”

“Shh, quiet.”

“You’re rubbing it too harsh.” Harry grabs your wrist, eyes fluttering open to stare up at you.

“I’m being gentle, you’re just not used to the feeling of the brush.” You argue, keeping a finger under his chin so his head is tilted upwards as you shuffle on his lap. “Now close your eyes, I’m almost done.”

He lets out a huff, trying to feign annoyance, but the slight twitch of his lips and the subtle appearance of his dimples break his facade. You know as much as he won’t admit to it, he’s quite enjoying having you propped on his lap, fingers stroking gently his eyelids while you hum along to The Cure’s record that’s mixing with the murmurs of the other people in the room.

To your surprise, you’ve come to realize that the dressing room is significantly less chaotic when it comes to Harry’s band. The place is not nearly as packed as it can get during your nights, in fact, apart from the band itself, there’s only a handful of people hanging around. And as much as you notice their bloated pupils and stumbled walks, they mostly keep it to themselves, sharing around a bottle of vodka to wash down their pills.

Like Harry had assured you, his bandmates couldn’t be less bothered by your presence amongst them. And as much as you recognize all from the numerous gig you’ve been in before, and that according to them your name has been frequently mentioned by Harry himself (which did make his cheeks turn into an adorable shade of red), it’s nice to be formally introduced to them. In fact, they were so quick to treat you as one of their own that you could feel a slightly guilty feeling expanding on your chest from the number of times you’d heard your friends bad mouthing them in attempts to joke around. 

You swallowed the feeling back, though, accepting a plastic cup they poured with champagne (which you learned is a tradition before gigs) and making a conversation.

“Are you done yet?” You feel the vibration of his voice on that back of your fingers that touch against his throat.

“Yes,” you say with a final stroke of your brush on his eyes, sitting back to admire your work with your teeth carved on your bottom lip. “You can open your eyes, baby.”

He blinks his eyes open and you can’t help the smile that breaks through your lips as you examine the contrast of the burning red eyeshadow with his jade irises as he looks back at you. “How do I look?” 

You grab his cheeks, leaning down to press a quick peck on his lips. “Like a proper rockstar.”

“Yeah?” He grins once you let your hands caress on the smooth skin of his chest poking through his unbuttoned blue blouse. “Think I can finally get some groupies now?”

Scoffing, you swing your hand to shove him back playfully with a roll of your eyes. You try to move away but he grabs hold of your wrists, pulling you in again. “You’re insufferable.”

“Just how you like it.” His hands fall to your waist, bringing it closer as you let your arms wrap around his shoulders. 

His lips meet your on a slow kiss, allowing you to taste the strawberry flavor of the lipstick you’d applied earlier, the thought of messing it completely lost in your mind as you tilt your head to deepen it even more. His fingers now grip on your hips over your denim skirt that has ridden up considerably since you first propped yourself on his lap. For a moment you just stay like this, tangled on each other’s arms, every so often you scratch on his neck, pulling his hair just a bit so you can swallow the most delicious mewls.

He parts from you as slowly as the kiss started, pecking on your lips a couple of times before letting his head fall back, hands moving to rub at your thighs over your pink tights. His eyes are hooded as he looks up at you with a smirk, voice coming low as if he’s sharing a secret just between the two of you, “can we go to the back?”

“Sure.” You unstranddle him, adjusting your skirt as you stand up and offering your hands to help him to his feet. He takes them, almost bringing you back down on the couch as he pulls a little bit too hard. 

Once he’s up he takes a look at himself on the mirror in the wall opposite to the couch, a pleased smile on his face letting you know he likes the result of your work. He reaches for your hand then, guiding you into the hallway and out the back door you’ve become so familiar with.

Walking into the alleyway, he walks to his usual spot, leaning back on the wall and pulling you with him. His hands easily find their place on your waist once again, fingers tapping against the fabric of your skirt anxiously. Looking down at you, there’s anticipation on his eyes, as if he’s trying to tell you something but is waiting for you to bring it up.

“So,” he begins, eyes darting around as he parts his legs a bit, enough to fit you between them as he pulls you closer.

“So…” You say, drifting off as a way to encourage him to keep going.

“I’ve thought about the date thing.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his har. “Wasn’t I the one that was supposed to be doing that?”

 He shrugs slightly, looking down to where his fingers fiddle with a loose strand of your vest. There’s something very endearing about seeing him so nervous, a complete opposite to how he carries himself in public, as this cocky and confident guy. You’re grateful that he allows you to see this side of him, though, bringing your hand to caress his jawline as you wait him to speak his thoughts. “Yeah, but I had like, an idea, or whatever.”

“Do tell.”

“I thought we could do--” he shakes his head a bit. “We could go to a place that’s still more reserved, and stuff.” 

“Like?”

“I dunno, I--” he chews on his lip, a habit he’s starting to get from you. “Thought we could go to my flat and like hang out, we could go to that diner that has a drive tru and get something to eat and go back to my place.” 

“Are you trying to take me home, Styles?” You tease, not being able to hold back a smile.

“It’s not like that, I just--” he huffs, cheeks getting a bit flushed as he tries to explain himself. “Just if you’re comfortable with it, of course, we can still go around on my car if you prefer, I don’t mind.”

“Harry?” You hold his cheek, moving it so his eyes can meet yours. Rubbing your thumb against his smooth skin, you try to soothe him, shooting him a fond smile.  “I think that’s a really nice idea.”

“Yeah?” You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Is that a yes, then?”

“Of course.”

“Cool, I can, like, call you before I leave home so you can go to our spot and I can pick you up, yeah?” It’s the fastest he’s speaking since the moment you walked out of the building, voice a pitch higher. “How about Friday?

“Great.” You giggle, tangling your fingers on his hair to pull him down so his forehead rests against yours. Lips brushing, you blink up at him, jade eyes flickering around your face, “I can’t wait.”

He smiles. “Me too.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

An annoyed puff leaves your lips as you notice another typo in one of the words inked in the paper poking out of the typewriter. You grab it maybe a bit too forcefully, this being the fourth time in a matter of minutes you had to do this. Taking it out of the platen, you reach for the whiteout conveniently prompted next to you, carefully correcting the error before putting the paper back on the machine.

With the end of the term peeking around the corner, you’ve been finding yourself in this position more often than not. Either rushing with your essays or grading assignments from your students. No matter what the arrangement is, however, there’s always a guarantee to have a half-empty mug of coffee and a pile of textbooks spattered on your desk. 

This time around is no different, as you lean back on your chair, closing your eyes and rubbing your hands over your face, you try to focus on Cyndi Lauper singing in the background as a way to relieve your stress. You can feel the inkling of a headache deep inside your forehead, indicating maybe it’s time to give yourself a break, So, you try your best to relax the tension out of your muscles, breathing in the soft chamomile scent of the burning candle on your nightstand -- it’s one Lena gave to you to help with the stress a few days ago. What disturbs you from your moment of meditation with Time After Time, making you snap out of your breathing exercise, is the ringing tone of the telephone echoing through the house. The sound comes into your room a bit muffled thanks to your closed door, but it’s still enough to irritate you.

You hear closely to the sounds outside your door, waiting for Lena, who you know is propped on the couch downstairs watching TV, to pick up the call and cease the annoying tune interrupting your moment. And as you predict, in just a few minutes the ringing noise stops as quickly as it started, making you relax back on your chair. Closing your eyes again, you let yourself go back to the moment before the interruption, untensing your shoulders. You can hear the pound of heavy footsteps coming up the wooden staircase, but don’t process them getting closer until your door swings open.

Lena is standing in your doorway with an expression that’s hard to read at first, her brows set on a slight frown her hairline and mouth agape. Before you can tell her off for her sudden entrance she’s already speaking, “can you tell me why the fuck Harry Styles is calling our house looking for you?”

You can feel your heartbeat falter at her words, eyes widening as you glance at your bunny-shaped clock and realizing you had gotten so lost in your studies you forgot about the date. “Shit,” you get up so fast from your chair it falls back on the rug. You turn to Lena, who’s watching the scene with the most amused smirk on her face, “is he still one the line?”

As soon as she nods you’re stumbling down the stairs, almost falling down on the last steps but catching yourself up on the railing. You reach for the wired phone lying upwards on the hallway stand, picking it up and walking into the closest door - which happens to be the coat closet - closing it behind you.

“Hello?” You sound out of breath, heartbeat roaring in your ear.

“Did I fuck it up?” His voice is hesitant, nearly remorseful, it makes your heart drop.

“I-- no, you didn’t.” You reassure, leaning back on the wall of the tiny space, instantly regretting your decision of not choosing the restroom in your panic state.  “I just got caught up with an essay and didn’t see the time passing.”

“Do you want to reschedule?” He drags out the words as if he doesn’t want to say them. “We can do this another day, I don’t mind.”

“No!” You protest quickly, reaching back to roughly adjust a hanger that’s poking on your neck, causing a raincoat to fall on your feet. “Of course not, I really need a break, anyway. I want to see you.”

“Want to see you, too.” You can hear the smile on his voice. “What about your friend?”

You sigh, rubbing your temple slightly. “I’ll talk to her, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” He says. “I’ll be at yours in around fifteen, is that good?”

“That’s perfect, yes.”

“I’ll see you in a bit then…” He drifts off, as if he wants to say something else, but stops himself.

“See you.”

The familiar sound of the deadline takes place and you sigh, letting your head fall back on the wall with a thump and staying like that for a moment. When you step out of the closet, the first thing you see is Lena leaning against the railing of the stairs, shaking her head at you in disbelief. “You bitch.”

Your shoulders drop, not wanting to have this conversation right now, as you put the phone back on the base. “Can we not do this--”

“You’ve been fucking him all this time and you didn’t tell me?” She crosses her arms under her breasts. “Abbey is gonna throw a fit when she knows this.”

“You’re not gonna tell her.”

“I’m not.” She agrees with you. “But she already knows you’re sneaking out with someone.”

“She does?” Your voice gets higher, eyes widening slightly.

“She might be high as a kite most of the time, yes, but she’s not stupid.” She chuckles. “And you’re not the best at hiding either, or you thought we wouldn’t notice you’re barely at home anymore?”

You frown your mouth, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. “Does she suspect that it’s him?”

“Not really no, thought it was one of your students.”

You can’t help the horrified look that takes over your face. “I tutor children!”

“Ooh,” she breathes out a laugh. “Well, to be fair, he’s probably the last person she would suspect.”

“She’s gonna kill me.”

“Probably.” She shrugs. “But she’ll just have to get over it.”

“I guess.”

Lena looks at you, dropping her arms as she walks to you. Holding into your shoulders, her expression softens. “Don’t worry about this right now, okay? Go get ready for your date.”

“You’re right.”  You sigh, nodding. It takes you a second, but as you process her words, you frown, squinting your eyes at her. “How do you know we have a date right now?”

Her hands drop, mouth scrunching as she waves her hands around. “I just guessed.”

“Were you listening on the line?’

“Of course not!” She steps away.

“Adeline!”

She backs away, reaching the bottom of the stairs with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen splattered on her face. “It was just a bit of it! I was curious!”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I’m gonna cut the cord of that phone in your room.”

“No, you’re not.” 

Raising your eyebrows in challenge, you take a careful step in her direction, causing her to go up another step. There’s a beat of silence where you two just stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. When you finally give in, racing towards the staircase, she stumbles up the rest of the steps, the sound of your giggles mixing together taking over the space.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

There’s an instant sense of comfort when you see Harry’s lime green Ford parked on your usual spot, one that gives an extra pep to your walk, pushing all the stress you’ve been dwelling with to the back of your mind. And as you relax into the leather seat, windows down and radio up, you let yourself enjoy the anticipation of spending the rest of your day with him that settles deep in your stomach. 

You’d always wondered what Harry’s apartment would look like, imagining his LP’s splattered across the place, along with loose papers filled with guitar riffs and song lyrics. Maybe a couple of plants here and there, from what he told you he had tried to take care of one or two before, but always ended up forgetting to water them on schedule. And there’s also a notion inside of you that two young men living together in an apartment are bound to live in somewhat of a nest, so you brace yourself for the piles of beer cans and video game wires tangling on the floor.

When he opens the front door for you, letting you walk in before him, it does surprise you to find a tidier place than you’d expected his living room to be, but you realize you’d not been much far off with your assumption. It’s clear this is a house of musicians from the second you step in, the first sight being two guitars leaning on the wall next to the mud green couch, surrounded by - you guessed it - loose papers, which you assume are filled with scribbled ideas. A wall piano also stands out across the room, a single ashtray standing on top of it next to two candles, where you assume comes the faint scent of vanilla comes from.

“Sorry about the mess,” Harry speaks out from behind you, shrugging out of his usual denim jacket and throwing it over the couch arm, looking back at you with his hands on his hips.

“It’s alright.” Your teeth sink on your bottom lip as you take in the sight of him. Without his jacket, he’s left with just a wine-colored half-buttoned blouse, sleeves rolled up to his elbows so some of his tattoos are exposed. Part of the hem is tucked inside his low waist jeans that hug his thighs so perfectly it makes you want to grip your nails on it. Shaking your head, lightly, you let your eyes wander around the room once more, so he doesn’t notice you gawking at him. “Was expecting worse, to be honest.”

“Do you think that little of me?” He feigns offense.

You giggle, taking a lazy step towards him, shrugging. “I just don’t expect two young men to know the basic of cleaning, that’s all.”

“That’s fair,” he chuckles, taking a moment to just look at you. When a silence settles between the two of you, you raise your brows at him, waiting for him to make the first move. He clears his throat, running his hand through his hair. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Sure!” You nod. “Do you have, like, beer or…”

“Yes, yes I--” he stops, face lighting up in realization. “No wait, I have something better.” He strides towards a door to where you assume the kitchen is, calling over his shoulder, “make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back!”

You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you pull your purse off your shoulder, letting it rest beside Harry’s jacket on the couch. Glancing over your shoulder, there are no signs of him coming back, so you take the opportunity to snoop around the area. 

There’s a small center table in front of the couch, probably the messiest part of the room so far, a few movie magazines splattered around with another ashtray lying on top of it, a few butts of cigarettes long forgotten along with their ashes. Next to it, is a VHS cover of </i> Ghostbusters, a rental receipt paper scrambled on top of it. What calls your attention is a couple of cassette tapes, some with titles you recognize from being Harry’s songs scribbled on top of them but others don’t have a label, which leads you to assume they must be blank. 

You walk around the table, gazing to the tv stand, where a poster of Freud is stuck on the wall behind it -- and breathing out a laugh as you notice someone had drawn glasses and colored his beard with a red sharpie. A bookshelf stands next to it, completely filled with records (apart from a single succulent that has a piece of paper with the name “Ziggy” glued to it). Your curiosity gets the best of you, picking up some LPs on random and what does surprise you, is the lack of a common theme between them. Finding a bit of everything, from some very recognizable names you’ve seen Harry rock to, like Billy Joel and The Clash, to some you’d never even heard him speak of like Culture Club and even a brand new Madonna record.

You have just picked up the cover of Ladies of the Canyon when his voice startles you from behind. “Mitchell, huh?”

Turning back with the record still in hands, you look down at it. “I love her.” You glance up, taking notice of the glasses in his hand, filled with a liquid of a yellow so bright it reminds you of a highlighter. “What’s this?”

“This,” he hands you a glass. “Is a drink we made.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You made this?”

 “I’m a man of many talents, bunny.”

“It looks like poison.” You bring the glass up to your nostrils, taking in the strong scent of alcohol. “Am I going to be poisoned? Is this a big plan to get rid of your rival’s bassist?”

“Stop being silly.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s mainly pineapple and vodka, takes weeks to be done, proper fancy stuff, you know?”

“Oh yeah super fancy.” You tease, chewing on your bottom lip to hold back a smile.“Pineapple and vodka.”

“Shut up and drink it.” He says, watching you carefully as you slowly bring the brim of the glass to your lips, taking a small sip of it. An instant sweet taste of pineapple invading your tastebuds, but the vodka is so present it makes you scrunch your nose. Harry gives you a small smile, eyes trained on you as he waits for your verdict, “so…”

“It’s strong.” Your face is still a bit rumpled from the alcohol, but you relax it eventually taking another sip of it, this time quite more prepared for it. “But it’s good, tastes like pineapple and vodka, who would say?”

“Shut up.” He chuckles, taking a step back and propping himself down on the couch.

With the record still in hands, you turn to put it back where you found it, admiring the full bookshelf once more. “Got a nice collection here, Styles, I gotta admit.”

He sips on his drink. “Found something you fancy in there?”

“A couple.”

“Put on something you like.” He motions to the record player standing next to the shelf. You look through the vast collection again, picking some at random and putting it back once you realize it’s not what you’re looking for. After going through a few, you finally stumble upon Elton John’ Madman Across The Water, holding it up to show it to Harry. “Oh, so we’re in one of those moods?”

You pull the vinyl from the sleeve, carefully placing it on the player and adjusting the needle over it. As the beginning note of Tiny Dancer float through the room, you look back at him. “What mood?”

 “Like, a happy-sad kind of mood.”

You nod, setting yourself on the couch next to him. “That’s a nice way to put it.”

As the first few songs swim in the air around there’s a light chatter that settles between the two of you. Nothing out of your ordinary conversations, mainly consisting of you gushing over John Taylor as Harry rolls his eyes and sips on his drink to mask the drop of jealousy that grows on his chest -- “He’s not that good looking, you lot should have better standards” he said with a huff, making you giggle at his antics and pinch his cheeks. But it doesn’t take long, barely going halfway through the record, until the two of you begin to feel more lightheaded, eyes glossy and tongues getting looser. You should’ve expected that from the very first sip of the drink in your hand, knowing it wouldn’t take much more than a glass of it to get you right boozed up. And it doesn’t help that which each sip of it the sweetness of the pineapple takes over the strong taste of the alcohol, and in a matter of a few songs, you already feel your mind soaring away.

Harry is not much different, you realize, becoming quite a bit of a giggly drunk as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes and slurred words coming out of his mouth (which only makes him laugh more at himself). From what he told you, it hasn’t been the first time he and Mitch attempted on making the drink themselves. They tried it at a cramped bar right outside a Tears For Fears concert and it had gotten them so knackered so quickly they went back the next day to ask the barman (who also happened to be the owner) what was it in. Turns out it was just watermelon and vodka, but the man also explained that the technique he used that took about two weeks for the drink to be ready. From the man’s explanation, it seemed simple enough so they decided to try it for themselves, except they replaced the watermelon with pineapple.

“Just to add a bit of fun to it.” He shimmies his body.

“Is it like the original, though?” 

“‘S close, but not quite his.” He hiccups. “I’m convinced he left out some of the details, the bastard, didn’t want to go around giving out the secret formula of it.”

You giggle, biting into the brim of your glass. “I’m curious to try it with watermelon, now that you’ve mentioned.”

“You have to, bunny!” His head falls back on the couch, dimples so deep you want to bite into them, his hand strokes lazily on your thigh, every now and then moving up to rub at the hem of your playsuit. “I’ll take you there sometime, we can get baked and crash into a concert at the music house that’s right in front of it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

When the blue of the sky outside begins to fade into a golden glow, ribbons of pink and orange cutting through it, you’re already completely far gone. The record player is now only letting out a faint buzz from the lack of sound now that the LP is over. Your head is filled with clouds and you don’t register when Harry reaches back for the guitar, only really registering it once he’s stringing out a familiar melody. He stumbles with the lyrics but as soon as you recognize the beginning line of </i> Big Yellow Taxi you’re joining him, your voices tangling in a high pitch as you more of scream the lines than really bother to sing it. Harry gets completely lost in it, and you let him take over every so often just to watch him, mimicking Joni Mitchell's voice and even enacting her laugh, which makes you laugh until your belly hurts and your cheeks get flushed.

It’s one of those moments you want to get locked in, to live in it forever. Watching him stumbling the lyrics of different songs, the words tumbling out of his mouth between giggles, fingers stroking the cord of the guitar maybe a bit too harshly as you join him without a care in the world to who may be bothered by it. You feel so free with him, it’s a feeling that takes over your whole body, a warmth of knowing you don’t have to filter yourself or fit any type of expectation. And as he ends another cover with violent strokes on the guitar you laugh along with him for a moment before letting the room quiet down. Crossing your arms over the back of the couch and resting your cheek against it, you just look at him.

His bloodshot green meets yours, his chest rising as he catches his breath from the frantic songs, teeth sinking on his bottom lip as he smiles at you. “Gonna slow down a bit fo’ you.”

You raise your brows at him, smiling in anticipation as he begins to smooth his fingers through the cords much more gently than he had been previously. His head moves along to the beat as he gazes down at the instrument, a slight crease forming between his eyebrows in concentration. It’s a complete contrast from the playful demeanor that had taken over the room just minutes ago.

“Love of my life, you’ve hurt me.” He begins, and your ears instantly perk up as you identify the same song you’d heard him play months ago at the pub, the one that made you enter it to watch him for the first time. “You’ve broken my heart and now you leave me.”

It’s much different now, however, not just from the fact that he’s singing it on his own without the band backing him up. But it’s the meaning behind it, the rawness of his voice, low and slightly raspy, the words still come out a bit mumbled but you couldn’t care less about it, only focusing on the emotion he puts to them. 

“Love of my life, can’t you see?” His eyes are still set on the guitar and you search for them almost desperately, shifting closer to him and cupping his cheek, guiding him to meet your gaze. “Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me.”

The swell in your heart is overwhelming to an extent, his glossy eyes looking into your with such sincerity it makes you want to jump on him, but you hold back as he keeps going, feeling nearly hypnotized by his voice.

“Because you don’t know, what it means to me.” He leans into your touch, turning to press a quick kiss on your palm as he keeps stroking the chords in a quiet melody. “Love of my life, don’t leave me.”

You can’t help but shake your head slightly as he sings the lyric almost like a plea. “You’ve stolen my love, and now desert me.” He looks back down at the guitar, letting your hand fall to his shoulder. “Love of my life, can’t you see?”

“Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me.” Peeking under his lashes, he grins up at you, and you can only imagine how you must look to him. Mouth slightly agape, barely blinking as you’re scared if you do this will all turn out to be nothing but a dream. His voice comes out next a bit lower, stretching out the words, “Because you don’t knoow.”

He strokes the chords a bit mindlessly now, playing with the sound of the melody, and he does it so effortlessly you almost hold your breath as not to miss it. “What it means to me.”

When he stops, you don’t really think before latching yourself on him, throwing one leg on each side of his thighs, and cupping his face before meeting his mouth with yours. He immediately wraps an arm around your back, his other hand taking the guitar off his lap and blindly placing it against the wall next to the couch. Once the instrument is no longer a barrier, he places his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. You can taste the memory of a pineapple still lingering on his tongue as you lick into his mouth. The kiss is hungry, maybe a bit sloppy thanks to the substance still very much present in your bloodstreams, but you don’t mind, only moving a hand to tangle on his hair, scratching at his scalp before pulling at his roots. 

A whimper escapes from his mouth, getting lost inside your throat, his grip on your thighs tightens, nails digging in it and you know will leave crescent shapes on your skin. It only makes you do it again, this time his head tilting backward with a small groan, disconnecting your lips, but you’re soon to connect it again, splattering kisses along his jawline until it meets his neck. When you suck on his pulse point, running your tongue over it, his skin vibrates on your lips as he lets out a whine. His hands are now running all over your thighs before resting on top of your ass, bringing your hips to grind against his.

Even with your hazed mind, it’s still hard to miss the very prominent bulge under his jeans. It makes you pull back, looking down to see it straining against his zipper. There’s a flip of a switch inside of you when you realize how much he’s yearning for it, it’s the desire you’ve been pushing back for months now, crashing into you like a wave and you can barely contain a small mewl at the sight.

“Bunny.” He breathes out. When you look back to him, you notice his eyes have darkened considerably. “We don’t have to--”

“Please.” You let your forehead fall against his, rolling your hips again, stealing another whimper from him. “If you want to, I want to.”

“I do -- fuck, I do.” He nods as you keep grinding on him, his hand disappearing on your back pocket, trying to get as closer to you as possible.

When you meet his lips again, the kiss is somehow eager than before. The longing is evident as you grab onto each other. Your hands travel down his chest, nails digging softly on his exposed skin, and once you feel the fabric of his shirt, you’re quickly to undo the rest of the buttons, not disconnecting from him as you do so. Smoothing your hands back up to his shoulders, you help him shrug off the material, letting it fall to the couch without paying mind to it.

“Wait,” he sneaks between kisses, hands coming up to your waist you push you off gently.

You watch with your brows narrowed as he gets up from the couch, walking to his shelf and standing in front of it, looking for something. Leaning to your side, you let yourself admire the muscles of his back as his fingers run through the edges of the records. It’s impressive how even though his collection takes over the whole furniture, he still seems to know exactly where to look for it, focusing on a small section right at the top. He quickly finds what he’s looking for, pulling it with a ‘Aha!’ before turning back to you. 

He holds up a very familiar black cover, the imprint of Queen’s Greatest Hits instantly calling your attention. Doing the same as you’d done earlier, he takes out the disk, placing it on the player before adjusting the needle over it. You watch it with a smile teasing on your lips, finding oddly endearing how he made you pull away from him with the sole purpose of putting on a soundtrack -- making notice to put on something you’d like, as well. He cranks up the volume as the first words of Bohemian Rhapsody start to swallow your thoughts, turning back to you and offering his hand with a cheeky grin painted on his face.

Taking his hold, you let him pull you up from the couch and, before you can really register it, he’s guiding you through the hallway. You stumble on your footing as he rushes a bit to fast for you to really wrap your head around it, the walls of the corridor passing by almost in a blur as it takes your mind a beat too long to catch up with your eyes. Still, your giggles dance along with his all the way to his door at the end of it, making you feel like a couple of teens sneaking out for the first time.

He doesn’t give you a single minute to take notice of his room -- not that you would at this moment, your arousal pooling at your underwear only enhancing the haziness of your mind. In just a speck of a second, he’s already pushing the door closed, your body being pressed against it not long after. His arms find their place on each side of your head, his lips searching hungrily for yours as your fingers find their home between the strands of his hair once more. 

“Shit, need you so bad, baby.” he presses his hips against yours, mouth hot as he sucks in the skin of your jaw, all the way down your neck, finding a spot that makes you whine under his touch. “That’s it, darling, let me hear you again.”

“Harry,” you mewl as his teeth sink on your skin gently, his tongue swiping quickly over the spot before he trails back to your cheek. You melt under his touch when his hands find their way back on your body, one of them caressing the side of your breast softly, thumb poking out to rub the spot where you nipple pebbles under your layers of clothing. This brings out a desperate whimper from your throat, your head falling back on the door as you close your eyes, trying to savor every slight touch of his. “Please.”

“Look so fucking pretty in this piece, bunny.” The sound of his voice is right below your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin making the hairs on your neck rise. “Look gorgeous in anythin”” he turns his head to bite at your earlobe. “But I really need it gone right now.”

Your eyes snapback open when you feel him pull back from you, his hands finding the front buttons of your playsuit, fiddling them open so easily you barely register it. His lips are back on yours, this time slower, letting his desire be known at every brush of his tongue. Smoothing his hands on your shoulders, he helps you out of the sleeves of the top. As soon as your back is disconnected from the wooden door, you start moving forward before you can really think about it, pushing him back gently until the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s sitting back on the bed.

There’s hardly a speck of green left on his darkened irises when he looks up at you, watching your every move as you shift the material down your body, letting it pool on your feet before you kick it to the side. Taking a slow step towards him, his hands holding onto your hips almost unconsciously, you reach back to find the hook of your bra, but he stops you before you can even quite grasp it. “Wait,” he pulls you closer, making you fall a bit awkwardly on his lap, your hands moving to grip on his shoulder for support. “Let me.”

You adjust your position on top of him, your knees resting next to his thighs, as he handily unhooks your bra, removing it quickly from your arms and tossing it to the side. A gasp escapes your mouth as he wastes no time before attaching his mouth to your breast, tongue circling on your nipple before sucking in. His hand tries to give the same attention to the other one, grasping onto it as his thumb caresses the pebbled nub.

The crescendo of the song comes muffled in the background and it’s as if it’s echoing inside your head while you mindlessly roll your hips against his. The motion makes the lining of his zipper rub deliciously against your clit under the thin fabric of your underwear, and it reminds you of his hardening length pressing on his jeans. It seems to remind him as well, as his mouth parts from your chest in a groan, his lips licking at the space between your breast, kissing all the way back to your neck, where he hides his face with a strangled moan when you grind down a bit harder.

“Can’t take the tease, baby.” He pants. “Need you right fucking now.”

You pull back from him, gazing down at the tent on his pants and bringing your hands to fiddle with his belt. It takes you a bit longer to manage to pull it out, as his eager lips attack your neck once again. At this point, you can only imagine the marks he’s made on your skin, knowing the reddened spots will soon come to a purple shade, but it’s the least of your worries as you pop the button of his jeans, opening up the zipper. 

“Stand up just for a sec, darling.” He taps on your hip and you do as he asks, stepping back to plant your feet on the floor.

He shifts out of his pants, bringing his briefs along with it and you watch the way his cock all but jumps out of its restrains, slapping back on his stomach. The tip is a reddened shade darker, a trace of precum already oozing out of it, dripping down his length and making you rub your thighs for some sort of relief as you feel your mouth watering. You want to reach for it, grasp it as you feel it throb on your palm. You want to trace the prominent veins adorning it with your tongue and discover all the sounds he makes when he’s all but begging for you to wrap you mouth around it already. But more than anything, and what speaks louder to you at the moment, is how you want to feel it deep in your belly, rubbing against your walls until your legs shake.

“My eyes are up here, love.” You look up at him, a smug grin on his face as he draws you in by your hips.

“Can’t help it.” You watch his fingers play with the waistband of your cherry colored underwear, meeting his eyes as you let yourself mess with him a bit. “Just have such a beautiful cock.”

“Christ.” He groans, yanking your panties down your leg, making your arousal drip down your thighs. His lips immediately trace on your pubic bone, hands travelling to grip on your ass as his teeth sink into your skin slowly. “Didn’t know you were this filthy, bunny.”

You enlace your fingers on his strands, pushing his fringe away from his forehead as you mount him again. “Only for you.”

“All for me? What did I do to deserve you?” He smiles, pecking your lips and pulling your closer so you can feel his cock poking at your stomach. “Why don’t you lie down for me?”

You shake your head, pushing his shoulders back gently until his back hits the mattress. “You lie down.”

“Shit, baby, gonna sit on my cock?” He shifts back just slightly, watching you sit back on his thigh as you grab his length, giving it an experimental pump that makes his breath audibly hitch. “Fuck-- such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

You chew on your bottom lip, flickering your palm over the tip and collecting a bit of the precum before rubbing it once more. He lets out a strangled moan, head tilting back on the mattress, his curls splattered around him like a halo. Which is an ironical contrast to what you’re doing to him. 

His voice comes out in a breathy, chest moving frantically as he peeks down at you when you give him another slow pump. “Please, darling, don’t torture me right now, need you so bad.”

If it were another occasion you wouldn’t listen to him, simply continuing your teasing as if he hadn’t said anything at all. But right now you can feel your wetness pooling where you sit on his thigh as you all but throb for him at the sight of his angry cock in your hand. It’s just as much torture to you as it is to him to keep this going any longer, so you just shift up, gabbing his base and rubbing it along your folds one, two, three times, before finally aligning it with your entrance.

His nails dig on your thighs in anticipation, his eyes watching with barely a blink as you slowly sink down. Your mouth hangs open but nothing except a choked gasp comes out of it. There’s a delicious burn that comes with him slowly spreading you open for him, and when you fully sit down your eyes are teary and can’t help but clench around him, earning a full moan in response.

“So fucking tight.” He pants, chest moving up as he takes a sharp inhale when you clench again. “So wet too, baby, drenching me.”

“Fuck, Harry.” You lean forward, hands lying on each side of his torso as you pull up the tiniest bit just to sink down again.

You want to start slow, gradually fastening your pace but you can’t seem to hold yourself back. As his hands grasp on your hips you start to bounce on him at a hard pace, your moans meshing together as well as the faint vocals blasting outside the closed door. Rolling your hips on his, he hits spot that makes you sit on your heels again as you throw your head back, crying out his name. 

It’s hard to keep focus as you mind is blurry from the pleasure that takes over every cell of your body as well as the alcohol still running freely on your bloodstream. All you can focus on right now is Harry. It’s his hands gripping on your skin, helping you fasten your pace. It’s the sound of his voice pitching on a needy whimper, telling you how good you feel around him. It’s the sight of his face creased in pleasure when you look down at him, the veins staining his neck and his locks sticking to his damp forehead, cheeks rosy and lips plump. He’s the only thing in your mind as you chant his name under your breath like a quiet prayer.

“Is my cock that good, bunny?” He meets your thrusts with his hips, making you sob out a moan. His lips tug on a smirk, “Look at you helping you helping yourself out on my cock -- fuck, look like a proper dream.”

There’s a familiar tightness in your stomach, one that makes your toes curl and your rhythm falters. “I’m almost there, shit.”

“Won’t last much longer too, baby, feel too good.” He groans holding your hips in place when you stumble on your pace again, deciding to thrust upwards, your pelvis meeting in loud smacks. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me see you looking all pretty when you cum all over my cock?”

“Harry, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, your eyes closing as you roll back your head. A trifling cramp is starting to set on the back of your thighs but you barely pay any mind to it as the bliss takes over your whole body. You’re so close to your high you can almost reach it, just needing a small push.

“C’mon, baby.” Harry urges you, hand reaching where you’re connected to rub at your clit harshly.

And that’s all you needed, opening your eyes as a couple tears fall down your face when you feel your orgasm taking over you body, the white ceiling feeling far away like an imagine you watch on the television. You’re not exactly sure when Killer Queen started playing, but as the waves of euphoria hit your body, you can hear the guitar solo ringing in your ears, the crescendo of the song only enhancing the thrill of your high as you ride your orgasm along with it.

You practically collapse  down on his chest, his hot skin sticking to your body. He’s still panting under you, warm breath hitting your neck as he holds onto your ass, his thrusts coming sloppier as he comes right after you. The sensitivity of your center makes you whine along with his strangled moans when he holds his hips to yours,burying himself in you as he paints your walls white.

For a moment you just stay like this, cheek resting on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat slowing down by the minute blending with the music coming from outside the closed door. His fingertips trace patterns on your bare arm that’s hugging his torso and keeping him close. You can feel your mind getting clearer, not just from the alcohol but from the high of your orgasm. And as the sound of the soft wind knocks against the window glass, you’re almost lulled to sleep just like this. 

Harry shifts slightly, you feel his lips pressing on your head before he carefully moves to sit up, letting you fall back on the bed gently. “Mind if I have a smoke, bunny?”

You give him a lazy smile, shaking your head as you look up at him, reaching for his locks that poke wildly on his head. Leaning down, he gives you a quick peck before getting up. Turning to your side, you watch as he looks around the room, finding his briefs thrown by the end of the bed and quickly putting them back on. He grabs the pack of cigarettes along with his lighter and heads towards the window.

Opening up the window, allowing the evening breeze to slip through the crack and dance around the room, he pulls a chair leaning on the wall to sit directly by it. The chair is stacked with colored cushions on top of it - one yellow, one red, and one blue - he throws two of them thoughtlessly on the floor next to it, adjusting the remaining one on his back as he leans down to sit on it. The stool is low enough so he can relax his feet on it comfortably, fingers fiddling with the lighter for a second before rising it to meet the end of the cigarette resting between his lips. Freddie Mercury still sings loudly in the living room, the sound coming a bit muffled thanks to the closed door, but making it as background noise as you come quiet to admire his figure against the last creeks of sunlight hitting the side of his profile.

You chew on your lip at the scene, wishing you could record it somehow and play it every night before falling asleep. There’s something inherently erotic about having him smoke a cigar just on his underwear, humming along to the tune of the song, right after having you scream his name into his pillow. 

The light streak of wind coming from the window breaks you out of your thoughts, making goosebumps rise on your skin as you come to the realization that you’re still sitting naked in his bed. It doesn’t take long for you to find your panties hanging from the edge of the mattress, picking them up to quickly slide them up your legs before you get up to search for your other articles of clothing. You can see the colorful pattern of your playsuit lying next to the closed door, but as you crouch to pick it up something else catches your attention in the pile of clothes thrown around mindlessly on top of a wooden chest

It’s the pink shirt. The same one he wore on the day you first saw him play.

A grin takes over your face as you pick it up, throwing it over your shoulders and sliding your hand on the sleeves. It has the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smell of cigarettes, something you’ve come to associate with him. You don’t bother to button up the material, letting it hug your body as you take a quick look at yourself in the full-body mirror leaning on the wall in front of you. You turn to him, his eyes still focused on the view outside, a thin coat of smoke leaving his lips and getting lost in the breeze, so you clear your throat as to get his attention.

He looks at you, eyes shamelessly scanning down your body and you’re afraid the cig will fall from his lips as they grow on a smug smirk. 

“Look at you,” he lets his feet fall from the stool, fixing them on the floor as he motions for you to get close. You approach him without a second thought, climbing on his lap as his hands hold onto your hips. He takes another look at you, grasping the cigarette with his fingers and taking out of his lips. Reaching for your face, his thumb caresses the side of your eyelid gently. “Looking like a proper rockstar now, even got the smudged makeup.”

You giggle. “That’s more your fault than mine.”

“I guess it is.” He taps the butt of the cig on an ashtray prompted on the stool of the window, eyes still trained on you. “Should do it more often then, s’fucking hot.”

You smile at the connotation, picking at the hem of the shirt and gazing at him from under your lashes. “Guess I might be starting to like pink, that’s also your fault.”

“Look way too good in pink not to like it, bunny.”

“Stop that.” You hide your face on the crook of his shoulder.

“Telling the truth.” His free hand grips on your waist, pulling you closer as he tilts his head to kiss at your neck. “Looks good in everything.”

“Could tell you the same thing.” You pull back to look at him, teeth sinking on your bottom lip as you smooth your hands down his bare chest.  “But I do prefer this fit on you, really brings out your eyes.”

“Naughty.”

You lean to connect your lips, hugging him close with your arms wrapped around his neck and enjoying the tender moment as you distribute kisses around his face just to hear him giggle. And when you bring your mouth to his again, you barely feel the softness of his lips before he all but jumps on his skin. You pull back, furrowing your brows, ready to question it but he beats you. “Forgot I got something for you.”

“For me?” You blink. “What is it?”

“Go sit on the bed while I fetch, will be just a minute.” He gives you a quick peck before you’re pulling away.

You do as he asks, sitting back on the bed, right next to the wrinkled spot where you lied just  minutes ago. He walks across the room, opening the door where you came from and disappearing in the hallway. The record is still blasting through the apartment walls, sound coming louder now that there’s no barrier between you.

While he’s gone, you take a moment to look around his room, something you didn’t get a chance to do when you first came in tangled on his arms. It’s not much messier than the living room, really, only the small piles of clothes you’ve spotted earlier that give the illusion of an untidy room. There’s a light wooden dresser that sits next to the chest, and from where you sit you can see two candles standing alone on top of it, similar to the ones on the piano. 

You swing your feet on the edge of the bed, letting them brush along a blue fluffy mat that hugs the floor underneath it. And as you run your hands on along his mattress, you notice the soft superficie, making you look down at a knitted blanket spreaded across the bed. It’s made of different colored squared stuck together in an oddly comforting pattern. You want to lie down on it, and let yourself be swallowed by the cozyness of the material against your skin, but before you can do so, Harry appears back in the room, closing the door behind him as he makes his way to you.

“This blanket is so nice.” You run your hands through it, smiling at him.

“Thanks, I knitted it.” The information makes your eyes bulge out, you open your mouth to inquire further but he’s already talking again. “This is-- uhm, I dunno, just something I thought you’d like it.”

The small box in his hand catches your attention as he hands it to you, his eyes looking down at it and even with just the moonlight illuminating the room you can see the blush on his cheeks. He props himself down on the spot next to you, watching your fingers turn the rectangular box around. It’s a cassette tape case, you quickly realize.

When you gaze at the back of it, there’s names of songs scribbled behind it. Not many, but a good collection of them, from Fleetwood Mac to The Bangles, and even Billy Joel. And it doesn’t take you long to find a pattern with the song chosen for the tape. Their all love songs. It makes your heart swell even more, if that’s even possible at this point.

“These are so cheesy,” you bite your lip, barely able to contain your smile.

He rolls his eyes. “They’re romantic, bunny.”

You keep examining the titles written neatly in his handwriting, raising your brows when you land on a specific one. “Every breath you take?” You tease, “That’s an interesting take on romance.”

“Shut up.” He giggles, eyes watching you carefully. “Do you like it?” His voice is adorably hesitant, it makes your heart stumble on a beat.

“I love it.” You say in just above a whisper, feeling the butterflies in your stomach get a little more vivid once your eyes land on the last song scribbled in the back of the tape. Somebody to Love. Brushing your thumb over the words softly, careful not to smudge the paint, you look up at him to find his green irises glistening at you. You shake your head almost in disbelief at the tenderness behind the gift. “Did you record this just for me?”

“Uhm yeah some of them I did but—” He looks down, focusing on his fingers as they pick a loose string from the blanket under his leg. “Some of them I just... Sang”

“You sang?” It takes you by surprise, how you thought there was no way he could make you feel warmer.

“Yeah… All of them, actually.” His dimples dig deep on his cheeks as he quickly peeks his eyes at you. “It’s just… The quality is shit when you record it from the radio and the dj keeps interrupting and stuff.” He shrugs, “Thought if I sang it could be more, personal? I guess.”

“I love it.” You repeat.

“You do?” 

“I do.” You chew on your lip, watching his eyes glimmering on the dim light of the room. “Is there a reason for this sudden present?”

“Kind of I--” He clears his throat, fully glancing at you. There’s an expectation behind his eyes, you can tell from the way he takes a sharp inhale that he’s nervous. “Thought I make you-- ask you, actually, if you’d be mine?”

You can’t help but giggle at how adorable he looks, your eyes getting a bit glossy as you nod without a blink of a thought. “Of course I’m yours, Harry.”

“Yeah?” His smile grows. “As like, m’girlfriend?”

Throwing your arms around him, you press your lips against his cheek, careful not to drop the tape in your hand still. You pull back, tilting your head as giving him a fond smile. “As in your girlfriend, yes.”

[haikyuulovercompany]

Hii! May I request a scenario for Kuroo and a character of your choice? Whoever you feel like writing. Could it be angsty? Their s/o has a very big, visible scar on their face, which they got when they were younger. They don't seem bothered by it unless someone asks for the details, in which case they get defensive. And when people who knew them before what happened go like, "You used to be so beautiful back then" they get insecure. Please feel free not to write it if it makes you uncomfortable♡

So, I was unable to make it really angsty... so i did more of a comfort piece that i hope that whoever feels a insecure on any degree, feels a little bit more loved... and since you let me choose one character, it was obviously my boyfriend Tendou ! Hope you enjoy (: 

-----

Tetsuro Kuroo

Meeting the family of a new partner was always nerve-wracking. For Kuroo it was, at least. He was spending the weekend at ______’s hometown ready to get to know better the person he had happened to fall in love with more than seven months ago. Kuro had met ______ on his second semester in college. It was supposed to be an early night for him. He was supposed to have a couple drinks and then leave. However, as soon as ______ had appeared, he decided he could stay a couple more minutes. They had happened to be friends with his friends, and it had been a coincidence for them to choose the same bar as them. Kuroo didn’t believe much in coincidences, and started to believe in fate. What could’ve been the odds? Those few minutes became a couple more hours, and he had ended up walking ______ to their dorm at five in the morning.

The chemistry had been spontaneous, and he hadn’t let them go ever since that day. He genuinely saw a future with ______, and giving their parents a good impression was in his best interest.

______ rubbed his arm reassuringly as they stepped out of the taxi. Kuroo took a look at the house, and breathed in. “It’ll be okay. They’re nice,” they said. He nodded, keeping his cool.

He followed them down the graveled path leading to the front door. ______ rang the bell a couple times, and flashed him another smile. He fixed his jacket as if there something he could do. They had hopped off from an airplane, and he looked exactly like that. His hair was slightly more disheveled than usual, and he was sure he didn’t smell that nice either. He hoped his personality could make up for it.

The door opened showing two shining smiles. ______ went straight for a hug. While their father hugged them, their mother pulled Kuroo inside the house. “It’s so good to meet you,” she said cheerfully. “He’s such a handsome boy, ______. Where did you find him?”

“Lost in the streets. Like a stray cat,” they joked. Their parents rolled their eyes at them.

“Well, lucky you,” their mother told ______, and winked an eye at Kuroo. “Go and get comfortable. Dinner is not ready yet.”

“Yes. I’m dying for a shower,” they claimed, heading for the stairs without saying anything more.

“Thank you very much,” Kuroo made sure to say, never losing his manners.

“Oh, it’s our pleasure. Go ahead.”

Kuro nodded, and shuffled a little on his place before joining ______ on the stairs. They chuckled at him and shook their head. Neither of them said anything else until they were in the safeness of the bedroom they were using for the weekend. It was ______’s childhood bedroom. Kuroo’s curiosity perked up. He chose the bookshelf first, inspecting what kind of books they had collected through their early years. “Do you want to take a shower first?” they asked, sitting next to their

“No, go ahead.”

“Okay. Knock if you need anything.”

They locked themselves on the bathroom leaving Kuroo alone in the room. He continued going through the shelves. It was easy to tell which books had been for school, and which others had been bought for a personal preference. He stumbled upon a couple of photo frames. Standing with ______ were a couple of people he had never seen—their friends from their old school most probably. The first one was from somewhen around high school. The second one was different for one special detail: there was no scar on ______ face. They were much younger than in the previous photo, way before the accident which caused the scar on their face. He continued inspecting the room, not putting much more attention to it. Once he was done, he laid down on the bed, and scrolled through his phone, waiting for his turn without a hurry. He was grateful he could rest a little after the trip.

Within half an hour both were ready. While they hadn’t made a big effort on their appearance since they were staying home for the rest of the day, Kuroo combed his hair anyway. He wouldn’t dare to go down to have dinner with his hair in a complete mess. “Looking fine,” ______ teased him.

He smirked. “I’m trying to give a good impression.”

“I see that, thank you.” They stood on the tip of their toes and kissed him on the cheek. It meant a lot to ______ to see Kuroo taking the trip seriously, and he knew this. It also meant a lot to him. He had been excited when ______ invited him to meet their parents. It was taking their relationship to a more formal ground, and he was in for it. He wanted nothing more than to solidify his commitment to their relationship.

______ exited the room first. He had never been a shy guy, but he preferred to stay behind and be cautious with his actions. No matter how much ______ and he were alike, their parents could be another story. It wouldn’t be the first time an apple fell too far from the tree.

As they approached the first floor, they heard a third voice. ______ frowned, immediately turning to see their boyfriend with a worried face. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“That’s my aunt. She’s… kind of careless with what she says.” They huffed. “I didn’t know she was coming.”

“You parents probably told her you would be here and wanted to see you.”

“Yeah, probably. I wished they didn’t to be honest. Whatever she says don’t take it personal, okay?”

“No problem,” he assured her with a casual yet confident grin.

The table was set for five people, confirming ______. Their aunt was staying for dinner and they hoped she didn’t make things too awkward. She came into the room as soon as she heard the pair, a big smile spreading across her face. She hurried to their side, embracing one at a time in a tight hug, almost taking the air out of the two of them. Just like their mother had done, she complimented Kuroo on his looks. He pretended to be shy, but they knew he was enjoying all the attention deep inside.

They helped to bring the food to the table, falling into casual conversation. ______ relaxed. Their aunt seemed to be on her best behavior. No imprudent comment had been made yet. They weren’t worried about what Kuroo would think. They worried on how awkward the night could be turned thanks to her.

They were in the middle of their food when their aunt cleared her throat as she wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “For how long have you two been together?”

“Eleven months to be exact,” Kuroo answered.

“Wow, almost a whole year. That’s so sweet,” ______’s mother commented, giving the two a tender look.

“It is, right?” Kuroo answered with a slight grin. They exchanged glances with him briefly. ______ held back their giggles. Kuroo could never turned off his confident personality. They would never admit it out loud, but they adored that part of him. Admitting out loud would cause far more teasing from his part.

“You’re such a cute couple,” their aunt followed. “Had they showed you pictures of ______ before the scar? They used to be so beautiful back then.”

______ stopped chewing right then and there. It had taken them years to feel at ease with the scar across their cheek. It had been years of trying to cover it, failing, and having to accept it. Their parents stayed quite—everyone was trying to realize what to say next. “I need something to drink.” They stood up, quickly disappearing into the kitchen.

Kuroo cleared his throat and with a polite tone said, “No, actually no. I don’t there’s need to, to be honest.” ______ eyed him.

“I mean, they’re still as pretty as ever of course,” the aunt continued, a little bit ashamed of her comment. She wasn’t getting any sympathy, though.

“For sure, they’re a beauty,” Kuroo stated before standing up and following ______ into the kitchen, knowing well what they must be feeling. ______ was resting on the counter with their eyes on the floor. A shiny tear hung on their chin. Kuroo silently and swiftly approached them, swiping the tear off from their chin. “Are you okay?”

“I told you she was kind of careless,” they murmured, avoiding to meet his eyes.

“But she is wrong. I don’t think you were more beautiful than now.”

“I know that’s not true.”

“I say is subjective,” he offered.

They finally looked at him, a soft frown on their faces due to the confusion. “She thinks you’re not, but I think you are.” He received no answer, and he concluded it was best to take it more seriously. He hugged them with the intentions of keeping them under his hold as much as they needed it. ______ hugged him back. That was what they needed. Unconditional love.

Five minutes later, they removed themselves, drying their face. “Is it too obvious that I cried?”

“No, don’t worry.” And he wasn’t lying. ______ had spilled a couple tears. They hadn’t been enough to swell her eyes.

They went back to the table together. Kuroo pulled the chair out for them, and then took his seat. The dining room was in complete silence. Their parents stared worried. _____ gave them a faint smile. It didn’t mean everything was okay. It meant they were handling it.

“So, if you have embarrassing pictures of ______ as a baby, I’m up for that,” Kuroo said out of the blue, surprising everyone. ______’s father laughed first. Kuroo slipped a hand under the table and rested it on their leg, giving it a soft squeeze.

“We have many,” their mother assured him.

“I’m impatient,” Kuroo declared.

The tension slowly dissipated. ______ looked at their aunt. She had her eyes on her food, and they could see the shame in their factions. ‘Good’ they thought. It was nothing against her, but she shouldn’t be meddling in their business like that. It was their scar, their story, and their decision. They had showed many pictures to Kuroo prior to the accident, but it had been in a moment of intimacy where they had felt comfortable to talk about it. And in an incredibly gracious way, Kuroo had shut the situation down. ______ smiled to themselves and continued eating as their parents now asked Kuroo about him a little bit more. They would make sure to thanked him properly later.

Satori Tendou

Meeting new people was always exciting for him. He was expectant to see what type of person they were or how fast he could read them. It was interesting to him. Meeting his new partner’s friends was turning out to be an interesting situation, to say the least.

______ stayed on the edge of their seat, trying to find when they could add something to the conversation. The other four people—the “friends”—wouldn’t let them say a word. They talked all over ______, and ignored when they managed to complete a sentence. It was clear they were dismissing them. Tendou had his eyebrows raised, wondering why ______ would consider these people their friends. He hadn’t tried to join. He was seeing enough for him to grow highly uninterested on the group of people. It meant something to ______ for him to be there, and that was the only reason why he was staying there.

“It is Tendou right?” one of the boys asked. He had a buzzcut and moved his tongue inside his mouth like he had crumbs stuck on his gums.

“Hmm-mmm,” he shortly responded, lazily tapping his fingers on the table.

“How did you meet ______?” a girl asked. They made it sound as if it was unbelievable for ______ to actually meet someone. He didn’t like the tone of their words. It had a mean undertone. He knew because he had used too to discourage someone on the court. He despised the idea they were trying to bring down ______ right in front of him—their boyfriend.

“At a party. He is my cousin’s friend,” they explained.

“Make sense. One day you suddenly had a boyfriend. It was supper random,” another boy pointed out. He had shaggy hair, and it wasn’t the type of messy that could be cute. The guy needed a haircut immediately.

“I guess,” they said, sounding a little bit more nervous. Tendou wasn’t participating at all in the conversation, and he was aware he was being rather quiet. He wasn’t comfortable with those people. It reminded him of elementary school. The vibe was similar, keeping him on the edge, expecting an insult at any moment.

And it did.

“Do you want to see ______ before they had the scar on their cheek?,” the same girl asked with eagerness, like she was ready to play her favorite game. Tendou felt them tensing under the arm he had kept across their shoulders. He could physically feel their emotional stress growing rapidly inside them.

“Not really,” he answered stoically. He squeezed their shoulder, and stood up from his sit at the pretty cafeteria they had met. “Come on, ______, we’re going to be late to have dinner with my parents.”

______ nodded, and got up quickly. They weren’t having dinner with anyone. It had been the first excuse that came to mind to leave the place. He wasn’t staying, and he wouldn’t leave ______ there. He had to get the two of them out of there before something bad happened—and he meant snapping at any of them, and god knew he could be vicious if tempted.

Tendou intertwined his hand with theirs, walking out of the establishment without looking back. They went down the street for a couple minutes before he heard the tiniest of weeps. He stopped on his tracks, and with one swift motion pulled them into his chest, wrapping his arms around. People moved around them as ______ cried under his shelter. Tendou felt his heart wrench. It had not only been humiliating for them, but that girl had touched the most sensitive nerve in them.

______ raised their head once they were able to stop crying. It had felt like a nightmare. Their scar wasn’t a joke or a toy they could use to entertain themselves. Tendou’s long fingers were soon on their face, rubbing their cheeks with the kindness they needed in that moment. “Are you better?”

They give a little tired grin. They loved Tendou didn’t expect them to simply be okay, but instead they hoped for them to feel better whenever those type of situations happened. “Just a little,” they admitted.

“I hate to say this but your friends suck.”

The little grin turned into a sad chuckle. “I know. But back in middle school they were the only people who wanted to hang around with me, so… I guess it was better than to be alone.”

“You don’t have to anymore, you know?” he asked rhetorically. “The older we get, the less it matters,” he finished as his finger went through the scar on their face. It was true. The older the people, the less noisy people were. There were adults were absolute assholes who had no sense of decency and would make the same tactless questions and comments, but they were just a few compared to a crowd of fourteen-year olds.

“Yeah, but it’s still hard.”

“It is, but we’re going to make it easier. I promise you.” He bent down giving them a quick peck on the forehead. “If you ask me, you’re the cutest thing around.”

They snorted, trying to hide the blush on their face. Tendou understood them from a deep part of himself—a unique type of understanding. ______ hugged him, nuzzling their nose on the crook of his neck. It was the place where they felt the most accepted… in his arms.

[spencers-dria]

Maybe, Just Maybe

Someone To Stay Ch. 5

Spencer x Fem reader

Content/Trigger warnings: a little bit of body image issues

Spencer POV:

It's been a few days since I hung out with Y/N. I'm truly glad she was the one I got to go with. I feel like we might have a lot in common, and she's easy to be around. For a little while, I almost forgot about everything that happened...about her. The next day the thoughts came sinking slowly back in, but they don't feel as debilitating as they used to. Maybe Derek was right, getting out, being around people, it may not be easy for me but it may be what's best. Maybe I should try to get out of my comfort zone a little. I want to get better, I do. But being social, well it's never been my strong suit, and to try to do it now, when I feel so emotionally vulnerable, it's particularly difficult.

Other than the dinner at Rossi's, my friends haven't been inviting me out as much as they used to. I'm pretty sure they got tired of the inevitable rejection. I want them to see that I'm trying, that I want to do better, to get better. Maybe if I reach out first...

I grab my phone to call JJ. She's like a sister to me, and she's been the best at trying to understand what I've been going through.

"Hey, Spence!" She sounds surprised but glad to hear from me.

"Hey, I was uhh.. well I was just wondering..." my words trail off as I find myself suddenly losing confidence in my endeavor.

"Yeah, what's up?" Her voice has a calming effect on me.

"Well...I was wondering if the team had any plans this weekend? To hang out or...I don't know."

"Actually we don't. But we should! I think I have an idea. There's something I've been wanting us all to do. There's a Lakehouse up for rent, and I think it would be fun if we all went up for a weekend. What do you think?"

I'm not very into outdoor activities, but the idea of reading on a porch by the lake sounds incredibly calming and therapeutic. It also sounds like a good time for me to start hanging out with the team again.

"You know, that actually sounds perfect." I smile at the thought of the much needed weekend getaway.

"Perfect! I'll text the group! Thanks for giving me the nudge to set this up, Spence. It'll be fun."

I hang up and shortly after I hear the familiar ding from the group message chat.

BAU Baddies😎

JJ💖: Hey guys! Who would be down for renting a Lakehouse this next weekend?

DM🍫⚡️: Hell yeah! @ahotchner you know what that means?? Jet Skis baby!! 😜🤙🏻

AB🌹: How fun! Count me in.

DR🇮🇹: I'll cook! I have a new recipe we can try out. I think you'll all love it👌🏻

PG🦄👸🏼: @jjereau @ablake We HAVE to go swimsuit shopping first, ladies! This is a non-negotiable.

AH: Sounds fun, are we bringing the kids this time?

JJ💖: Actually, Will is staying home and he'll be watching Henry. Jack can spend the weekend there, if you'd like. @ahotchner

AH: Thanks. I think I'll take you up on that offer.

DM🍫⚡️: @sreid you better be coming pretty boy, just bring a couple dozen books and you'll be set.

SR♟: Yep, already packing.

I smile to myself, thinking of how for once, I'm the reason we have plans. But if anyone else knew that, I'd never hear the end of it. I knew JJ was being intentional when she didn't mention that to the group. I hear another group chat alert and glance at my phone.

BAU Baddies😎

JJ💖: Hey, is it alright if I invite Y/N again?

AB🌹: Oh I thought that was a given! You definitely need to! She fits in with us so well.

PG🦄👸🏼: You better! Or I won't let you hear the end of it 😂

JJ💖: Great! Thanks you guys, it means a lot that you've been so welcoming to her.

Y/N will be there. Maybe I'll have a friend who will hang back and read with me. It would be nice to not be the only one. Then I remember what she said about moving here because she loves the outdoors. That means she'll probably be hanging out with Derek, JJ, and whoever else. Oh well. At least maybe I'll get to talk to her more. I decide to text her. I never really text anyone, but she doesn't know that.

Y/N

Hey, it's Spencer. I heard JJ

wanted to invite you to the lake.

Do you think you'll go?

Yeah! I just got off the phone

with her. I can't wait! Are you

going?

Surprisingly...yes. I'll be bringing

some books along to pass the time

but it'll be nice to have a change

of scenery.

Books??? We'll see about that😉

I love a good book as much as the

next bibliophile...but this is a

weekend for things you CANT

do at home. Anyways, would you

want to carpool? We can take turns

driving if one of us gets tired.

Passenger is in control of snacks

and music! 🎶🍿

Haha, ok deal. We'll work out

the details later. And...thanks :)

Anytime Spencer, can't wait! 👍🏻

I lean back into the couch and smile. Even if we spend the weekend doing different things, at least we'll get to talk on the way there. I feel like she could become a good friend, but I don't want to make any assumptions...I don't do this often.

Y/N POV:

You run around your room, packing for a trip that's days away. You're too excited, it can't wait. Just as you're trying to decide on a swimsuit you get a text from Penelope, saying that the girls are going swimsuit shopping this evening. They want you to come. You can't hide the smile growing on your face. How long has it been since you've been on a girls shopping trip? You can't even remember. It's spontaneous, so you assume no one will be too dressed up. You throw on a black sleeveless t shirt dress and some strappy sandals. Easy enough to get in and out of for trying on clothes. After brushing through your hair and applying some quick, light makeup, you're ready to go. The girls had decided to meet at the mall, for the most options.

You meet up with Aunt JJ, Penelope, and Alex outside of a nice department store.

"I figured we could start here. It has the most options and it's at the end of the mall. So we can work our way down, until we all find something."

Aunt JJ tends to take charge. She's such a mom, but that's part of what you love about her. Always prepared, caring for everyone. Alex found a cute one piece with a wrap to wear as a skirt. Penelope picked out a cute pink and purple polka-dotted swim dress. JJ ended up with a sports-bra fitting bikini top and some athletic looking swim shorts. Still such a typical mom. The only one left is you. You haven't tried on very many things, and what you did try on, never made it out of the dressing room.

"Y/N, why don't you let us pick you out some things to try on, and this time, you have to at least let us see. Deal?" Penelope gives you a look of encouragement.

"Sure" you shrug. "I'll try anything at this point."

Alex stays with you while JJ and Penny go to pick out some swimsuits for you. They return with a few handfuls of options. You try on the first option, picked out by Penny. It's a cute two piece, frilly and pink. You come out and are greeted with a few giggles.

"As cute as this is, I think it's more your style than mine, Penny" you let out a small laugh.

"Oh I know. I just wanted to see you in it! I couldn't pull it off in a thousand years!" She laughs.

"Alright alright, let's keep going." JJ ushers me back into the dressing room.

I come back out in a black two piece. It doesn't show too much skin to make me uncomfortable, but it's really flattering on my curves.

I hear a chorus of "ooooo" and one "yes queen!" that I'm sure came from Penny.

"Really, you guys? It's not too...ya know."

JJ shakes her head at me. "No definitely not. Girl, you're single, you're in your twenties, your body hasn't had a child yet. If you got it, flaunt it. If not now, then when?"

The girls all nod in agreement. You blush. You didn't know you could look this good in a swimsuit. You usually avoided bikinis. You found it hard to feel comfortable in your own skin. Whenever you tried to dress sexy, you just ended up feeling awkward and uncomfortable. It helps to have some friends to encourage you. You look at yourself in the mirror one last time. Okay, even you had to admit, you look hot.

The four of you end the day with lunch, chatting about your plans for the lake.

JJ turns to you. "Y/N, I almost forgot, do you need a ride down there? I can pick you up, if you'd like."

"Ohh uh, no actually. I'm carpooling with Spencer." I give her a shy smile. I know what this looks like. "We're just friends" I quickly interject.

"That's great" she says, giving me her warm smile. "Spence really needs a friend right now. And I bet you do too." There's understanding in her eyes. You're grateful that she didn't try to make more out of it. Aunt JJ knows you, though. She knows you make guy friends much more easily. That aside, you were still so grateful for the day with the girls. They were all so genuine, and easy to get along with. They didn't make you feel like an outsider intruding on their day.

Later that evening, you lay in bed as you try to quiet your mind. Your head is swimming with too many thoughts to fall asleep: anxieties about this weekend, but also excitement and ideas of what you'll do. Not to mention, more time to get to know Spencer better. You wonder what JJ meant when she said Spencer really needed a friend right now. Maybe, just maybe, you'd break through his walls a little more this weekend.

A/N: sorry this one is short-ish. It's kind of a transition chapter so there's not as much content! Building a base, building friendships, hang with me, we're getting there 😁💖✌🏻

[greatgaynovel]

I took him back

Here I am again, putting Charles the Pisces back on my radar. How is it that I continue to put myself in these situations? Is it because I want the boys that I can’t have? Is it because I want to create a storyline so I have something to write about? I don’t know that I’ll never know the answer to those questions. A therapist might help, but that’s not something I’m into. I’m also scared that they will tell me that I’m a complete bipolar psychopath.

I always go after people with problems. Maybe it’s because I have problems. I’m tired of having to be a fake bitch around people that I’m hiding my issues from. It’s exhausting. I like dating guys with problems because I feel like I can unload my problems and they don’t really care. At the same time, I can listen to their problems and either help them or hinder them - haven’t really figured that out yet.

Sometimes I feel like I’m a Pisces, with how I think and feel about things. And romanticize things. And get bored of things quickly. But that’s probably because my moon is in Gemini and my rising in Cancer. Also, my Venus is in Gemini and my Mars in Cancer. I’m a literal walking, talking, self-proclaimed piece of work.

I feel like a storage closet of people’s problems. I take in and rarely share what I really feel, until now.

I decided to put it all on the line. Last weekend I took a spontaneous trip to Chicago, one of my most favorite places on this earth. I usually go once a year just to get my fix, but last year for obvious reasons, I was unable to. Charles and I were supposed to go to the beach for his birthday, but if you read my previous posts you would see that that was no longer going to be happening.

I did a little sleuthing and saw that Chicago’s borders were now open for some states without having to get a test or quarantine for any amount of time. My state was included. I Immediately switched the flight and hotel bookings to Chicago and planned a 4 night getaway in the place where my mind can finally go free. It’s where I came and realized that a 6 year relationship that I was in was no longer what I wanted. It’s where I came at 15 years old and knew that there was something better out there for me. It’s my place.

I went to Chicago thinking I was going to get a head start on writing my memoir, do some self care, and go on dates with hot business men. Want to know what actually happened? Well, I ended up crying every morning and night about Charles and coming up with a plan of action to get him back instead of writing about him, getting trashed with a group of gays that consisted of FOUR Pisces, a Cancer, and a Scorpio, and eating Mcdonalds every night alone in my hotel room.

Was the universe trying to really fuck with me?

Those 3 signs are my biggest weakness. They give me the hardest time, but they give me a chase, which I naturally crave. But really though, during a mourning moment, I really didn’t need to be around all of that energy. Like true form, they all acted cold toward me and didn’t even invite me to do coke with them in the bedroom. So, I was left alone in a house party fulls of gays that I did not care to talk to and/or get to know, so I walked out without even saying goodbye and came back to my hotel room and TEXTED CHARLES.

I texted Charles when I was drunk. He even asked me if I was drunk because I said something along the lines of “I’m sorry, i’m so fucking sorry.” I figured he had blocked me on everything like Pisces fashion, but since I had him answering my texts, I didn’t want to lose the opportunity. I told him I wasn't drunk. I didn’t even care if he didn’t apologize at this point. I knew a lot of it was me in the wrong and not knowing how to handle his nature. Through the week, I realized how I needed to be with him. I was going to make this happen.

Well, I ended up passing out in the middle of our conversation, right when he said he would be down to talk. I wake up frantic, thinking I missed the opportunity, but was pleasantly surprised when he answered later on in the day. This was the day before his birthday, I officially had my moment. I knew the universe was putting this chance right before my eyes, so I took it.

I gave him this long monologue about how I went back and looked through all of our conversations and realized that although I was treating you on a superficial level, I wasn’t treating you on the emotional level. Everything can get a bit surface level with me, but deep down my feelings are true. I apologized for getting passive aggressive when told no, told him I was going to work on it. I gave him practically every scenario that I could recall, where I went wrong, and how I should have handled it. I basically told him that I couldn’t live without him.

Not expecting this at all(this seems to be a trend with him), he agreed to be friends and work on things. If he would have said thank you, but fuck off, I would have been less surprised. From what I know about Pisces men, when they are done, they are done and won’t come back. I can handle friends. I can handle taking time to work on things. The simple fact that he is even giving a thought to making it work, gives me all the fuel that I need.

I know what I have to do, and I’m going to take every right step to get him back. But don’t worry, I’m still going to write about him. I’m still hesitant as fuck. I went back into my Cancer shell, and good luck getting me out. I’m not the only one that is going to be apologizing. I’m still waiting for the absolute truth, Charles.

All my love,

Mitch

[seven-oomen]

I’m sorry you’re still feeling exhausted.  I hope work wasn’t too terrible today, and that the weekend lets you rest up a bit (if you get normal weekends.  working in retail I try not to assume.)  Also, this is likely to just be a short(-ish) collection of unconnected musings, but I felt like sharing them anyway, and really you should be used to that from me at this point.  XD  So, first off that tree painting is GORGEOUS.  I mean, I tend to be kinda partial to that whole tree silhouette type aesthetic, so I’m probably slightly biased.  But still.  (And the background shading… <3 )  Also, ngl, the backlit keyboard keeps making me think of that video of Henry Cavill assembling his new computer that’s making the rounds.  That is not meant as a complaint of any sort, mind you, merely an observation.

Speaking of hot scruffy dudes who are actually massive dorks, did you SEE Ian’s most recent Insta pic?!  (the non-cowboy hat one)  Omg, I don’t know why he keeps complaining about how it’s starting to look like TW Season One hair like it’s some sort of bad thing.  (The longer the hair, the better the grip you can get. […uh…wait, what?… ’>.> ])  That pic just screams OUAT sequel to me.  Out here looking all shaggy and windblown and peaceful and content.  Proud Alpha Dad Peter spending quality time with his family/pack.  How very dare he spring this on an unsuspecting public with no warning?  I was not prepared.  (Also, Sinqua and Holland commenting on it just ups the adorable factor that much more.)

Also, was looking at a few sites lately in consideration of ordering a few more masks for work, found this print on one of them and almost laughed myself absolutely stupid.  I don’t know why it was just so funny to me, but I hope it cheers you as much as it did me.  Btw, it’s available on an impressive variety of items, including two types of notebooks, t-shirts, mugs, blankets, pillows, beach towels, shower curtains, rugs, bath mats, several styles of bags, phone cases, and assorted types of wall art (sadly not on a mask, however.  I was deeply disappointed.)  I can see any number of items ending up in the Haleargentski household, bought by assorted non-wolf members for assorted wolf members, because they are a family of assholes.  (I feel like the first gift was a travel mug to Peter from his darling husbands, then a t-shirt [on black ofc] from Peter to Derek, and then it just all snowballed from there.)

Today’s literally-just-appeared-out-of-nowhere-wtf-brain thought is (much like the French maid thing) definitely of the nsfw variety, so consider yourself duly warned if you have a shift today.  Because I mean we talked about Chris and Noah using toys on each other, but why should Peter get left out of the fun?  There are plenty of ways for him to enjoy them, too.  Like, pretty much the initial spontaneous thought was “Peter getting pulled into someone’s lap and being pegged within an inch of his life until he comes screaming down the throat of whichever one is going down on him at the same time."  And I was just like "not sure what this has to do with this video of how to make a ukelele out of colored pencils, but continue."  But like, no really.  Peter being knotted in one of them while the other uses beads or a (vibrating) plug on him?  (Which one is the asshole who momentarily turns the vibration up high enough that they BOTH can feel it?)  Or using those, or some kind of prostate massager, while he’s tied up and watching them with each other?  Bonus points in that situation for anything remote controlled.  See just how good his control really is.  Equal opportunity toy usage is what I’m saying, basically.

Also had a thought inspired by a pregnant friend and her fiance raving about a local pizza place’s monthly special, which is a pickle pizza (no really).  I may or may not have asked her if she had it with ice cream (I totally did, but apparently she’s past that point.)  So I was wondering about any weird or specific cravings the boys have while pregnant.  I remember Chris having a thing about chocolate pudding in the flashbacks.  Was it only a certain type of pudding, or would any kind do?  Were there any others he had?  Did he have the same ones with Ben or different?  What about Noah?  What sort of cravings did he get, if any?  And did they vary between sets of twins?  Did anybody go the aforementioned pickles and ice cream route?  Anybody dipping fries in Nutella?  Onion straws in peanut butter?  Doritos in cottage cheese?  Anybody eat salsa straight out of the jar?  Did anybody get any sudden absolute need for a specific fast food at two in the morning?  Or suddenly want a type of snack food only carried at one truck stop halfway past the next town?  Anybody spend several days eating nothing but veggie trays, including ones they normally can’t stand?  Anybody develop a temporary aversion to certain things, like coffee (feels like it would be a terrible thing for either of them)?  Did Peter cater to their every whim in any and all of these situations?  (I already know that answer.)  Did either one ever get demanding about it, or did they go the more passively-wistful-won’t-stop-mentioning-it route?  Side note; did anyone (not family) ever catch the wrong end of hormones now backed by even more combat and/or magical ability?  (Debbie at the bake sale best step off or she gonna regret a number of her life choices.)

Uh…I think that was the last of the random swirling questions/musings/headcanons for now…  I hope you feel a bit better today, and that the time off (I think you mentioned some time off?) is helpful.  Enjoy your time with your friend (that was this weekend, right?).  If you’ve got ideas for writing stuff, but are having trouble getting them down, would making quick notes/reminders, or voice recordings, for later help?  Like, so you don’t worry about losing them, but aren’t forcing yourself to do something you don’t feel up for at the time?  Either way, congrats on keeping up with the journaling (and the pretty, pretty art), and I hope tracking everything proves helpful.  And remember, other people’s bullshit issues and hang-ups are in no way your fault (no matter what they try to tell you), and you deserve all the good things.  Take care!  *Hugs to both of you!* 

Yeah, honestly I think I hit that point in my life again where my battery is drained and I can’t restart it. Which is how I got my burn out at first and working towards another one. Heh but I also don’t want to give up now and just keep working for a little longer because my contract expires at the end of September and yeah.. 

Stress.

Aww gosh thank you, yeah I really like how that one turned out! It was better than expected.

Btw if you’re into Zombie apocalypse stories (I am) you should definitely check out The girl with all the gifts. It’s so brutal but also interesting, I definitely enjoyed that. (And it was research for my own book)

Lol I love this keyboard and this laptop, really, it was the most expensive thing I ever bought but it’s so worth it. Still runs super smooth after 2 years. I don’t think I’ve seen that video of Henry though. 

And omg yes I did and it’s the best thing. he looks so SOFT omg. I def got  OUAT S2 vibes from that. And OUAT vibes. Also that pic of him with Colton, omg. Those were the best!

THAT PRINT!!!! I nearly snorted coffee out of my nose this morning but managed to swallow it down just in time. My work computer would have suffered caffeine damage otherwise XD.

But yeah, that becomes a running gag for sure!

Because I mean we talked about Chris and Noah using toys on each other, but why should Peter get left out of the fun?  There are plenty of ways for him to enjoy them, too.  Like, pretty much the initial spontaneous thought was “Peter getting pulled into someone’s lap and being pegged within an inch of his life until he comes screaming down the throat of whichever one is going down on him at the same time."

*cheff’s kiss* 

Yes.

Oh the images are so good. Remind me to write them out in detail tomorrow after the zoo trip.

Also parking the pregnancy cravings to answer tomorrow since it’s past midnight and I should catch some sleep before I need to be up again. But I will definitely type that HC out.

Side note; did anyone (not family) ever catch the wrong end of hormones now backed by even more combat and/or magical ability?  (Debbie at the bake sale best step off or she gonna regret a number of her life choices.)

Ohhh Debbie’s toast. Because yes, Noah’s magic is that much stronger when it’s fueled by pregnancy hormones and Chris turns into a very protective hormonal fighting machine. Low center of gravity has advantages when you’re in a squabble with the Karens.

And yeah, I have four days off right now. Which means I don’t have to work until Thursday again. Which is awesome!

But yeah work wasn’t too bad, I had to do one bad news conversation which fucking sucked since there was nothing I could do and nobody I could get a hold off to fix the problem for that customer and it was just a waiting game. I hate those conversations. I honestly do.

Most of it was quiet though and I got to leave an hour earlier due to the quiet day. So that was good. And I watched a movie while being paid (The girl with all the gifts) so that was pretty fun too XD

I actually voice record a lot already. I find it really helps with clearing my mind and I write a lot of stuff down. But I appreciate the tip!

Lots of cuddles from me and Mo and I hope your day went by well. <3

[singledarkshade]

And Baby Makes...

Summary: A year since their spontaneous marriage, Rip and Gideon find their lives are about to change once more. Author’s Note: The sequel to what happened next after ‘What Happens In Vegas’ and Secret Spouses. A lot of total fluff. All my medical knowledge comes from ER and Greys Anatomy, so I apologise. Hope you enjoy.                                ********************************************* “Gideon?”

Her mother-in-law’s concerned voice made Gideon pull herself off the bathroom floor and open the door.

“Oh dear,” Mary frowned when the door opened, “You don’t look well at all.”

Gideon gave a slight shrug, “Then it matches how I feel,”

Mary reached out and placed her hand on Gideon’s forehead, “You are slightly warm.”

“I’ve probably just picked up the bug that Jonas had a few weeks ago,” Gideon said softly, “Once Rip gets home, I’ll go to bed.”

Shaking her head, Mary took Gideon’s arm, “No, you should go to bed now.”

“But I need to make Jonas dinner,” Gideon protested as she was moved through the house to her bedroom.

Mary smiled at her, “I can fix him something to eat.”

“But…”

Moving her into the bedroom and sitting Gideon down, Mary cut her off, “I’m his grandmother, I can look after him for a few more hours until Michael gets home. It’s what I do,” she stopped Gideon protesting, “Now you get into bed and I’ll make you some tea to help settle your stomach.”

Defeated by Mary’s concern, Gideon changed into her pyjamas and slid into bed letting out a soft sigh as she lay back against her cool pillow. She’d felt unwell all day, but when she arrived home the smell of the baking Mary had been doing with Jonas made her stomach roll and Gideon barely made it to the bathroom in time to be sick.

“Rip?” Gideon opened her eyes surprised to see her husband moving quietly around their bedroom, “What are you doing home so early?”

He smiled at her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, “I’m actually late. You fell asleep.”

Gideon winced, “What about Jonas?”

“Mother stayed to look after Jonas,” Rip smiled, “She left five minutes ago. How are you feeling?”

Gideon shrugged, “Better just tired.”

“Then get some sleep,” Rip told her, “If you’re still feeling unwell tomorrow, stay home. Mother offered to take Jonas so you can rest.”

A smile touched Gideon’s lips when Rip slid onto the bed and wrapped her in his arms. She sighed and closed her eyes again cuddling into his warm embrace. Rip held her for a few minutes before pressing a kiss to her hair and leaving her to rest.

They had now been married just over a year and Gideon had never been happier. After the surprise announcement of their marriage at Lily and Ray’s wedding, they’d had a small ceremony and party to celebrate with their friends. The next year gave them so many firsts. First birthday Gideon celebrated with her new family, first birthday Rip and Jonas celebrated with her, their first argument (where Gideon returned to her apartment for a few days), first making up after their first argument, first Christmas, first New Year’s Eve.

It had been a wonderful year during which Gideon adopted Jonas. The little boy insisted that he deserved a party to celebrate him getting a new mother officially. Rip agreed a lot quicker than Gideon thought he would.

Just over two months before was their first wedding anniversary. They’d celebrated by taking a trip to Las Vegas for the weekend. Rip surprised her by managing to get them booked into the same hotel and even the same room they’d had the year before. They made it out to dinner on the first night, had a drink in the cocktail bar they’d had their first drink in and then didn’t leave the room for the rest of the weekend.

Slipping asleep, Gideon thought back to the wonderful few days they’d had, just the two of them and realisation hit her.

She couldn’t be?

She was always so careful.

Except…

A weekend away with her husband…

Several days hidden from the world where they ignored everything outside their small bubble until they had to leave.

Gideon slid her hand onto her stomach, could she be pregnant?

 Thankfully Gideon felt better the next morning when she woke up. Despite Rip’s concern, Gideon followed her normal morning routine, kissing him and Jonas goodbye before heading out to work.

Except she made a small detour on her way to the office.

The drugstore was barely open when Gideon got there, making her way to the right aisle she stopped in surprise when she saw a familiar face standing looking at the pregnancy tests.

“You too?” Gideon asked softly making Lily spin in surprise.

A hopeful smile covered Lily’s face, “I’m not sure. You?”

“Not sure either,” Gideon whispered.

Picking up another box of the same test she had, Lily offered it to Gideon, “Do you want to do the test together?”

Gideon nodded, “Yes. I haven’t told Rip my suspicions, not till I know for sure.”

“I haven’t told Ray.”

Taking her friend’s hand, Gideon smiled, “So, can we do this now or…”

“I’m off today,” Lily told her, “Let’s pay and we can find out.”

 Thirty minutes later the two women were in Lily’s bedroom sitting on the edge of the bed holding hands as they stared at the pregnancy tests on the small table in front of them.

“That’s it,” Lily said softly when the alarm on her phone sounded, “Are you ready?”

Gideon took in a deep breath, “No.”

“What’s wrong?” Lily asked concerned.

“It’s just,” Gideon sighed, “This is not something I ever expected to want.”

Lily smiled, “But you want a baby.”

“With Rip,” Gideon whispered smiling, “Yes.”

“So, what’s wrong?” Lily asked again.

“I’m now afraid I’m not pregnant when I built it up in my head,” Gideon told her.

Lily hugged her friend, “Then if it’s negative you tell Rip how you’re feeling and work out together whether you start trying or not.”

Gideon smiled, so happy her friend was with her.

“Are we ready now?” Lily asked.

Gideon stopped her, “What if one of us is and one isn’t?”

Lily squeezed her hand, “Then we’re happy for our friend. Okay?”

Gideon nodded.

“Three, two,” Lily counter taking a deep breath and saying, “One.”

Together they reached out and picked up their test, checked the result before swapping to see each other’s test. Lily let out a squeal and grabbed her friend in a tight hug.

They were both pregnant.

 “How are you feeling?” Rip asked the moment Gideon walked in the door.

She smiled at him, “Better.” Looking around Gideon realised it was extremely quiet, “Where’s Jonas?”

“Adam got a new computer game for his birthday and Jonas begged me to let him go to play it after school,” Rip shrugged, “I agreed. Adam’s mum will feed him for us and bring him home later.”

Gideon nodded, “That’s good because I need to talk to you. And it’s better if Jonas isn’t here.”

Cold panic filled Rip, he knew that this relationship was the longest one Gideon had ever had and part of him always worried she would decide it was over.

“Oh no,” Gideon gasped, obviously realising what he was thinking, “It’s not bad, Rip I promise.”

Relieved he followed her into the living room, sitting on the couch and waiting for her to join him.

“You know I love you,” Gideon said softly, “And this past year has been wonderful. Marrying you and becoming Jonas’ mother was something I never knew I wanted. I can’t imagine life without you both in it now. Our lives changed so quickly last year,” she took a deep breath, “And our lives are about to change again.”

Rip looked at her confused, “Change how?”

Biting her lip slightly, Gideon reached into her bag and pulled out a small white plastic stick. Rip stared at her before looking at the stick and then her again.

“Does that…is that…” Rip stammered.

Gideon nodded, “I’m pregnant.”

Rip surged forward and wrapped her in his arms, “We’re having a baby.”

“We are,” she whispered before asking, “Are you happy?

Kissing her softly, Rip nodded, “Ecstatic.”

Gideon smiled as he enfolded her in his arms once more.

                                 *********************************************

 Rip was sitting in the car waiting for Gideon when she left the office. Sliding into the passenger seat she accepted his kiss with a smile. They were heading to the doctor for her first check-up and confirmation of how many weeks pregnant she was. If she had counted right, then she would be at the three-month mark which meant they could tell people and Gideon was both excited as well as absolutely petrified about that fact. Firstly, she wasn’t sure how Jonas would react even though Rip assured her that he would be fine and secondly was Mary, who Gideon knew would be happy but possibly a little too much at getting a second grandchild.

“Are you okay?” Rip asked when they stopped at the lights.

Gideon shrugged, “A little nervous.”

Taking her hand and placing a kiss on the palm, Rip smiled, “Everything is going to be just fine.”

“I know but…” she shook her head, “I’m being ridiculous.”

The light turned to green and Rip started to drive again, “You have every right to be.”

Reaching the hospital, Rip found a parking space quickly to Gideon’s surprise. The moment she slid out the car, Rip wrapped his arm around her, and they walked together into the building.

 Gideon reached out for Rip who took a hold of her hand, squeezing it comfortingly as they waited for Dr Lewis to finish updating Gideon’s records before the ultrasound.

“Alright, Gideon,” Lewis said with a smile, “Are you ready to see your baby?”

Nodding Gideon gripped Rip’s hand tighter as the doctor raised her top revealing her still flat stomach.

“This will be a little cold,” Lewis said squeezing the gel out. Pressing the wand onto Gideon’s stomach, Lewis moved it around for a few moments before turning to them, “Okay, here you go.”

Awe filled Gideon as she stared at the screen, following Lewis as she pointed out everything that Gideon had no idea she could see on the image but, even though she couldn’t read it fully, Gideon could see her baby.

“How far along do you think I am?” Gideon asked, as Rip cleaned the gel off her stomach for the doctor.

Lewis smiled, “You’re twelve weeks along. From all the tests your baby is perfectly healthy, and you are just as healthy. I’m going to print out a copy of the scan for you, give you the pamphlets we give all pregnant women to read through and then you can both head home.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Gideon smiled at the other woman as Rip gave his thanks also.

“I’ll see you both soon,” Lewis told them with a warm smile.

As soon as the doctor left the room, Gideon slid off the bed and into Rip’s arms relieved everything was fine.

 Rip sat on the couch staring at the picture of their baby while Gideon was in the other room.

He remembered Miranda’s first scan of Jonas, how they’d stared at the screen showing their baby with awe and terror. They’d never talked about having kids, and as both had been orphans, neither were sure they could raise a child.

Jonas however was the most perfect baby, and Rip had instantly adored his little boy. After losing Miranda, Rip never thought he’d fall in love again, never mind have another child. Gideon had changed everything.

He was so happy she’d persuaded him to go out for one drink that night in Vegas, because he had found something that he never thought he’d ever have again.

It was incredible how easily she fitted into their lives, although there had been some teething problems.

He hated remembering their first real fight. It was over something stupid and Gideon had been so upset she went back to her apartment. Realising he could lose the best thing that had happened to him in a long time, Rip headed to Gideon’s apartment to apologise, completely prepared to beg her not to give up on what they had. Gideon had forgiven him almost instantly but was in tears of relief that he had come to her. Rip realised at that point how insecure she was in their relationship because it was her first real one, so he made sure she knew how much she meant to him every day.

And now she was giving him a baby.

 Gideon checked the clock, Mary would be bringing Jonas home in about twenty minutes and they were going to break the news to them both. Before that though…

“Hi,” Lily answered the call almost instantly, “How did your appointment go?”

“Everything is good,” Gideon told her friend, “And I’m three months pregnant. We’re going to tell Mary and Jonas tonight. How about you?”

Lily laughed, “The same. Ray is so excited about letting everyone know. I’ve persuaded him that we need to tell our families first but he’s going to invite everyone on Saturday night for dinner so we can reveal our news.”

Gideon chuckled amused.

“I was thinking we could reveal it together,” Lily told her.

“You remember my secret marriage was revealed at your wedding,” Gideon reminded her friend, “Do you want to share this with me too.”

“Yes,” Lily replied instantly.

Gideon felt tears fill her eyes, “We should let Ray and Rip know before then that we’re both pregnant.” She mused for a second, “Jonas isn’t coming on Saturday so why not come here for dinner on Friday? If anyone asks, then it’s because you felt bad Jonas couldn’t be included so I invited you to see him.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Lily told her before sighing, “I’ve got to go, Ray will be worrying since I’ve been out his sight for more than half an hour.”

Laughing Gideon made her goodbyes hanging up just as she heard the front door open.

 Rip caught his exuberant son in his arms, Jonas telling him about the trip to the science museum his grandma had taken him to. Gideon appeared from the bedroom and Jonas slipped from Rip’s arms to hug her too. Rip winced slightly at how hard Jonas flung himself into Gideon’s arms, but she hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head.

“Mother,” Rip called, “Can you stay for a few minutes? We have something to talk to you about.”

Intrigued Mary nodded, “Of course dear.”

“Jonas,” Rip called his son, “Come and sit with us.”

As Rip led his son to the couch, he pulled him up onto his lap as Gideon sat beside him and his mother sat on the chair across from them.

“Am I in trouble?” Jonas asked worriedly.

“Oh, no sweetie,” Gideon soothed, ruffling his hair, “This is a very good thing.”

She slid her hand into Rip’s, and he could see his mother had her suspicions about what they were going to say but was keeping it to herself for the moment.

Rip hugged his son tightly, “Jonas, we love you so much and that is never going to change but soon we’re going have an addition to our family.”

Jonas looked at him confused, “How?”

“We’re going to have baby,” Rip grinned, seeing the joy cover his mother’s face, “And you’re going to be a big brother.”

Jonas gave a small frown as he thought, “Where is the baby coming from?”

“The baby is in Gideon’s tummy just now,” Rip explained, “Where she’ll keep the baby safe and warm until it’s time to join us.”

Turning to Gideon, Jonas peered at her flat stomach, “Are you sure?”

They all chuckled before Gideon explained, “Right now, the baby is very small but will grow.”

“It also means you have to be very careful when you hug Gideon,” Rip told his son.

Jonas nodded solemnly.

“But I still need my hugs,” Gideon told him, smiling as Jonas slid across onto her lap for a hug.

Rip turned to his mother who motioned him to her, he smiled as she hugged him.

“I’m so happy for you, Michael,” Mary whispered, “And I will be here for whatever you both need.”

Rip smiled at her, “Thank you, Mother.”

“Would you like to see a picture of the baby?” Gideon asked Jonas.

The little boy gave a bemused look, “If the baby is in your tummy how can you have a picture?”

Rip smiled and sitting down, lifted Jonas onto his lap again, “It’s a very special camera,” he took the scan picture when Gideon handed it to him and showed Jonas their baby.

 Gideon slipped away to get a drink of water while Jonas was asking questions about the picture of the baby. Standing at the door, Gideon watched Rip and Jonas together smiling at how wonderful a father he was. Resting her hands on her stomach, Gideon knew how lucky she was.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Mary said suddenly making Gideon turn in surprise.

“For what?” she asked confused.

Mary smiled, “For giving me my son back,” she glanced over at Rip and Jonas before continuing, “When Miranda died, the only reason he kept going was for Jonas. It was why I was so surprised when he returned from Vegas last year married to you. But you make Michael smile in a way I hadn’t seen since that horrible day.”

Gideon smiled, “He changed my life so much too. I never thought I would ever be able to love someone enough to be with them forever and I never wanted children. Then I met Rip. He gave me everything I never knew I wanted, a husband, a son and a mother.”

Mary hugged her tightly before guiding her back to the couch, taking her seat beside Rip, Gideon smiled enfolded in the love of her family.

                                 *********************************************

 Rip wasn’t sure why Gideon had invited Ray and Lily over for dinner since they were going to theirs the next night anyway, but she explained it wasn’t fair Jonas didn’t get to join them. Rip taking this to be pregnancy hormones considering Gideon had sobbed at an advert the night before, which wasn’t even a sad commercial, and he remembered Miranda’s sometimes odd decisions when she had been pregnant.

Besides Jonas was so excited that Lily and Ray were coming, so Rip shrugged and made dinner for them.

“Oh, this smells wonderful,” Gideon breathed as she entered the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “I’m glad I married someone who can cook.”

Rip chuckled, “Was that your basic criteria?”

Turning him so she could kiss him properly, Gideon laughed, “Just a perk.”

The doorbell rang, interrupting them and Gideon headed to answer the door. Rip followed and watched, amused by how excited his wife was for some reason to see friends they saw practically every day.

“Hi,” Lily and Gideon cried in unison embracing the instant the door was open.

“Are we going inside or just standing here all night?” Ray asked amused from behind Lily.

Gideon moved back and let them inside as Jonas came running towards them. Lily hugged the little boy before letting him drag her into the living room. Rip turned to Gideon and wrapped an arm around her waist as they listened to Jonas tell their visitors all about his day at school.

“I’ll get the first course ready,” Rip pressed a kiss to Gideon’s cheek.

“In a minute,” Gideon took his hand and led him into the living room.

“What’s going on?” Rip asked confused as Gideon made him sit.

“Lily and I need to tell you something,” Gideon said, moving Jonas over to his father.

Rip lifted Jonas into his lap and glanced at Ray who looked as confused as he was.

“What’s going on?” Rip asked worriedly.

To his surprise, Gideon and Lily grinned while holding each other’s hands.

“We’re both pregnant,” Lily announced.

Ray stood, “What?”

“Lily and I took the test together,” Gideon explained, “We’re both three months pregnant.”

Rip laughed, “Congratulations.”

“You too,” Ray grinned.

Jonas stood looking at them all before asking, “Does this mean you have a baby in your tummy too, Auntie Lily?”

Lily chuckled and knelt in front of him, “I do. So, you’re going to be a big cousin as well as a big brother.”

Jonas gave her a thoughtful look before nodding, “Okay.”

 Gideon hugged Lily again before Ray finally managed to get her in the car so they could go home. Closing the door Gideon smiled, resting her hands on her stomach happy that she would be sharing this experience with one of her closest friends.

Seeing Rip leave Jonas room she wondered how she managed to get so lucky to fall in love with this wonderful man and become the mother to an incredible stepson.

“He’s fast asleep,” Rip said seeing Gideon standing there.

“Good,” she wrapped her arms around his waist hugging him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you why I wanted Ray and Lily to come tonight but we wanted to surprise you both.”

“I have to admit I didn’t expect it,” Rip kissed her softly, “Come on, let’s go to bed. We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

Taking his hand Gideon led him to their room, “True, but who said we have to go to sleep straight away.”

[caffeine-catastrophe]

Go the Distance! CH. 2!

click here for chapter one!

A/N: Thank you so much for such a positive response to the first chapter! It made my day to see all the reviews. Please keep them up :) There were a few questions about what a grant is, and some confusion over the general plot of this story, so I will do my best to give y'all some context. The rest will be revealed later on in the story, I promise.

A grant is defined as "a sum of money given by a government or other organization for a particular purpose. ie: a research grant". The one mentioned in this story is being offered for the sole purpose of giving young people a chance to pursue their dreams and aspirations, without having to kill themselves working three jobs like the rest of us do in real life.

Some other things: the gang is about the same age, a year or two out of high school (in my mind, L is 19 - coincidentally the legal drinking age where I live - N is 20, and G and E are 21 ish). None of them are in college at the moment, because student loans mean interest and none of them really want to (or are able to) deal with the future repercussions of that. Their individual career paths and aspirations will be discussed further into the story.

I hope you like the second chapter! The next one is already done, so I'm going to finish the one after that before I publish it!

Go the Distance

Three days, four million dollars, and a cross-country road trip that will change their lives for good. OR: The Dreyar Grant for Brighter Futures is a prestigious scholarship granted to only the most deserving of candidates, but even miracles don't come without a price.

---

... And a thousand years would be worth the wait It might take a lifetime, but somehow I'll see it through...

"Thank you all for coming," Ms. Strauss begins cheerfully, seating herself at one end of the large conference table situated in the centre of the room. She gestures for the four trailing awkwardly behind her to take a seat on either side of her. Lucy finds it increasingly hard to concentrate as Ms. Strauss begins to brief them on the legalities of the grant. She hands her the envelope containing her high school transcript and photocopied version of her passport, and watches in a zombified stupor as the others do the same. "I'll send these to HQ in Crocus to double check your eligibility, but for now I'm going to assume you're all wonderful people and take your word for it," Mirajane continues in a humoured tone that does nothing to relieve the tension in the air.

"Now tell me, what do you four know about Mr. Dreyar?" Ms. Strauss asks. "I assume you all did your research," she continues, raising an amused eyebrow. Lucy can't help but think this is some kind of test. She exchanges a quick glance with the rest of her companions, each shifting uneasily in their seats. Erza seems to have disappeared into her hair again; even Natsu is looking a little bit less confident about 'having this'. Lucy waits for one of the other three to speak up, before looking nervously back at Ms. Strauss, who – Lucy notices with a jolt – is looking directly at her.

"Ms. Heartfilia? You seem like you might have something to say," Ms. Strauss says with an encouraging smile. Lucy bites her lip. She always was terrible at public speaking. You're a high school graduate with a theatre diploma and English honours, Lucy. Get it together.

"Mr. Dreyar is a so-called legendary business mogul worth approximately 64 billion dollars," Lucy begins slowly, glancing quickly at Ms. Strauss for confirmation. The woman gives her a small smile and Lucy continues, "He was an Ivy League student that originally wanted to be in law, but after a few years of schooling he had a change of heart. He dropped out to pursue a degree in business, and by the time he graduated he had sold two successful companies and had a net worth of 1.2 million dollars."

"Very good, Lucy," Ms. Strauss says, smiling. "Anyone else?" She looks over at Gray, who clears his throat reluctantly. "He never married but has taken in many apprentices over the years and treats them like they are his blood. He acts like a sponsor to ensure they become successful, and then takes a small percentage of their annual income once a year until he has been paid back."

"Not only that, but now that all of his so-called children have grown up and are able to stand on their own, rumour has it that he's looking for a new group of young people to mentor," Natsu jumps in enthusiastically, nudging Erza beside him, who rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

"Rumour has it, that's us," she finishes quietly in a voice that's tinged with equal parts exasperation and excitement.

"Rumour has it, indeed," Ms. Strauss responds vaguely, eyes roving over the group in what almost seems like approval. "Now, on to business," she says abruptly, disturbing the air of quiet anticipation that has settled over the four young adults. "Mr. Dreyar, while a brilliant man, can be quite… eccentric. Rather than handing the grant over to you at this moment, he has insisted that the four of you join him in Crocus in three days' time so that he can assess your eligibility in person. This means the four of you will have to acquire your own methods of transportation and lodging, should you choose not to travel there via aeroplane. Hotel rooms will be provided for you once you arrive, of course. He has written you into his schedule this Thursday at noon. Any questions?"

When Ms. Strauss finishes speaking, the only sounds in the room are the quiet ticking of an analog clock by the door and the muffled din of traffic outside.

---

The group is silent as they file out of the room en route to the elevators. They stand awkwardly as they wait for the car, each lost in thought. Erza is tugging on her hair again while Gray and Natsu furrow their brows in the same tense expression, which Lucy might've found amusing if she didn't also find herself so unbelievably screwed. No one says a word until the elevator doors open with a soft ding and close behind them with another muffled thump.

"So, we're pretty much screwed," Natsu echoes Lucy's thoughts, ever the spokesperson. "Flying expensive, and I don't know about you guys, but the reason I applied for this scholarship is that I couldn't afford to splurge on a plane ticket if I wanted to."

"Yup," Gray lets out stiffly, exchanging a loaded glance with Erza that Lucy can't quite decipher.

"However," Natsu continues, "I've driven down to Crocus a few times for soccer games in the past, and I'm sure my dad wouldn't mind us borrowing his van since there's a chance we'd be coming back with a total of four million freaking dollars." He sends a silly look in Lucy's direction, reflected in the polished gold of the elevator still counting down from 14, and she lets out a tense laugh. She takes a deep breath, feeling the tension of the group lift for a brief moment. "If you guys are okay with chipping in for gas money and splitting the cost of a few nights in a hotel, we could spend the next few days driving down to Crocus in time for the meeting," Natsu suggests, raising his eyebrows at the other three expectantly. There's a pause, and then Gray breathes a sigh of relief.

"I mean, that's actually a pretty good idea. I've got my license too, so I could take turns driving if you'd like," Gray offers.

"Same here," Lucy chimes in, and Erza nods in agreement.

"Does that mean you're in?" Natsu asks eagerly, turning to Lucy, who turns to Erza. The two exchange a look, raising hesitant eyebrows as if to reassure each other that going on a spontaneous road trip with two strange guys won't end with getting themselves killed. Girls need to stick together, after all. Then again, Lucy's been through worse and while Erza may look demure, she also seems like the type of person to kill someone in their sleep. Lucy sets her jaw determinedly and gives Erza a little wink. The other girl smiles nervously in response. The world spins a little as the elevator settles, and when the doors finally open with another soft ding, Lucy turns back to Natsu with a grin.

"We're in."

---

"This one's a little more out of the way, but it's a lot cheaper," Gray suggests an hour later. The group of four have made their way over to a café down the block in order to iron out their plans for the weekend. Lucky for them, Natsu had his laptop in his dad's car that's parked across the street, and they've all crowded around the small table in the corner of the shop, each trying to get a better look at the screen.

"Is it going to be safe, though?" Lucy asks concernedly from behind him. "Family-owned inns usually have lower budget security systems, if you know what I mean."

"Nah, it looks fine," Natsu reassures her, reaching over Erza's plate of strawberry shortcake to pull the laptop closer to him. "It's got a ton of reviews, and all of them say it's clean and relatively safe, see?" he says, pulling it up on the screen for her to check.

"We'll go with that one in Acalypha, then," Erza says resolutely, jotting down the phone number and address in the little notebook Lucy had stashed in her purse at the meeting.

"I can call them later tonight when I call the place in Hargeon to book the rooms," Gray suggests, taking a picture of the page with his phone.

"We did it!" Lucy cheers, flipping back to add it to the PowerPoint Natsu and Gray insisted they create in honour of their 'Road Trip'. Boys. "Looks like we've got it all sorted out then! Where and when do you guys want to meet tomorrow?" she asks, leaning back and nudging the laptop closer to Natsu, who's straining to get a better look over Gray's head.

"I can pick everyone up in the morning," Natsu offers, grinning at her in thanks, and her heart stutters at the easy way he leans across her lap to save the document and shut down his laptop.

"Around 10, then?" Erza suggests, chewing savagely as she stuffs the rest of cake in her mouth. Lucy is kind of surprised at how passionate Erza is about dessert. Never mind how gentle she usually is, she nearly tore off Gray's arm when he came close to knocking it off the table while scuffling with Natsu over the PowerPoint font.

The group confirms the time, each pulling out their phones to add each other on social media. The boys create a group chat with a reminder for their plan tomorrow, aptly naming it 'The Four Million Dollar Road Trip'. Erza and Gray live in the same direction, so they quickly gather their things and head to the train together, casting apprehensive glances at the overcast sky. Apparently, Gray is a last-minute packer and Erza admits to being that chick that brings four suitcases in the name of being 'prepared'. They need all the time they can get.

Natsu and Lucy, on the other hand, take their time packing up. Lucy is organized to a fault and Natsu doesn't seem to be too concerned about getting home right away, so they fill the café with their chatter until they forget that the sunshine surrounding them isn't coming in through the window. When it starts to get dark outside, the conversation turns to their homes and families. They are surprised to discover that they live in the same neighbourhood; his building is just down the block from hers. She learns his sister Wendy takes dance classes and sings off-key in the shower, and in turn she tells him all about her golden retriever, Plue, who used to follow her to school every day in the third grade.

By the time they are ready to leave, the rain has started and the lightning makes the sky look like it may have cracked open in the downpour. And if Natsu is pleased to hear that Lucy has forgotten her umbrella and may need to join him for the car ride home, well, he doesn't say a thing.

---

I based Makarov's backstory on Mark Zuckerberg lmao. He's a controversial person, for sure, but useful when it comes to needing rich entrepreneur character backgrounds.

Comments? Questions? Reactions? Drop me a review!

See y'all soon!

[harryandmolly]

wonder - (a LTBOMH deleted scene)

A/N: Y’all, it’s extra even by my standards. Big fat thank you to @smallerinfinities for holding my hand through this one. It’s hyper personal and had to be written. Sometimes those are the scariest ones to get on paper. Part one of two.

Summary: Shawn and Lilly embark on a months long journey inspired by one little word.

Warnings: Language, Molly being #excessive

Word count: 3.5k

August 18th, 2020

Lilly lifts onto her toes to fish the bottle of champagne out of the bottom of the Trader Joe’s bag sitting on the kitchen island. He smiles at her vertically challenged scenario and stands behind her with a hand on her lower back, lifting the bottle out easily with one hand, placing it beside her.

“Yep, I definitely missed you,” she giggles, reaching back for the hand grazing her to lock his arms around her middle. He hums in agreement and presses his lips to the back of her ear. He closes his eyes and revels in it, trying not to imagine the big red clock counting down in his head to when his little weekend off from tour ends and he has to be without her again for a few weeks. He squeezes his arms.

She turns in his grasp and runs her hands up and down his arms, rubbing her thumbs into his biceps where she knows he’s sore. His eyelids flutter. She pops up on her toes again to peck his lower lip.

“Maybe I’ll run by the farmer’s market later to grab some strawberries to have with the champagne,” she muses, “Like in Pretty Woman.”

Shawn smirks. He loves that she always wants to make things in her life reflect a movie. It makes her life pretty exciting.

“Whatever you want, princess,” he jokes.

Lilly’s amused expression drops. Her face goes blank as it fills with blood. Shawn’s never seen her blush so fiercely. Her breathing goes a little short in her chest. She looks away, flustered, biting down a goofy smile.

“What?” he laughs curiously, chasing her wandering gaze with his. When she finally settles enough to look at him, it’s a sheepish glance before her eyes are on her glinting toe ring.

“I… you’ve never called me that before.”

“No,” he agrees, still confused, “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again?” He leaves the inflection open at the end because he doesn’t understand her reaction.

She swallows and shakes her head. “No, I—I liked it.”

He lifts his eyebrows. He’s done plenty of things she likes. He knows every facial expression she has like the back of his hand. This one is new.

“Lill, you’re a weird shade of… purple right now,” he chuckles, lifting his hands from her hips to cup her face. Finally, her eyes lift to his. They’re fucking sparkling.

“Sorry, I just—I really liked it. I’ve never—fuck. I have a little bit of a thing about being called ‘princess.’ Not that anyone ever has called me that. I just… you know, I read it. In romance novels and fanfiction and shit.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he whispers, sweeping his thumbs over her cheeks before lowering his hands to cup her neck gently.

“I… I’ve never told anyone. I’ve never admitted it out loud before. It’s… my thing, I guess. My kink.”

Kinks he gets. But he thought he knew all hers – the marking, the slightly dominant side to her sexuality. She’s been hiding this one, keeping it locked up in a tower (rather appropriately).

“So… can I start calling you princess now?” he murmurs, looking hopeful. He loves finding new ways to make her smile. And squirm a little.

She shrugs and looks away from him again. “I wish you wouldn’t. I mean—not all the time. It’s… special. Y’know?”

He understands and drops it. When they’re full of Dom Perignon and organic strawberries and making love on their bedroom rug that night, he has to bite his tongue to keep from stuttering the word at her. He thinks he likes it, too.

+

September 3rd, 2020

Lilly presses her stubby black-polished finger to the edge of her Nook to turn the page. Shawn’s nose itches. He rubs it against the back of her shoulder to scratch it. Her hair keeps tickling him but he’s not about to complain since she had to drop a few things to come be with him on tour this weekend. His anxiety has kicked up a fuss. He assured her she shouldn’t worry, just talking to her over FaceTime helps, but she booked a flight before he could protest too much.

They’re lying in a massive hotel bed in Tampa after his show. His skin is still a little sticky after his post-show, post-show-sex shower. She still smells like strawberries. It eases his mind.

She’s reading a regency-era bodice ripper about a headstrong daughter of a privateer who comes upon a quiet and brooding young prince somewhere on the coast of Italy. She’s in the middle of reading a particularly titillating love scene when Shawn pipes up from behind her. Even when he’s so keyed up he can’t sit in his own skin, spooning her crowds out the worry from his mind.

“How come these guys never go down on women in these books?”

Lilly quirks a grin at his very Shawn-like question. It’s curious and feminist-minded and she loves him that much more for it.

“Because they were written by women in the 80s when it wasn’t ok to give women head and write about it, even in erotica.”

“You should write one of these,” he quips, brushing his lips over the back of her neck, smiling when she stiffens and goosebumps appear.

“You think?” she hums. He can tell by her voice she’s not really entertaining the idea, but she wants to hear his thoughts on it.

“Well, you’ve read a million. You know good from bad. You could write a princess one to satisfy your thing.”

Lilly’s eyebrows lift. “My thing,” she parrots.

They haven’t really discussed her meltdown over his ‘princess’ comment when he was home from tour a few weeks ago. He hasn’t felt the time was right to use the pet name while they were having text or FaceTime sex. And this weekend, he’s so fried, he frankly doesn’t have the energy to put on a show for her.

Lilly rolls onto her back, bringing the Nook with her. Shawn props himself up on his side, legs still linked with hers. “I’ve gone 27 years without satisfying it, I don’t know that I need to write a novel to do it now.”

That puzzles Shawn. He hasn’t really admitted it, but it still smarts a little that she didn’t tell him about this. He’s laid himself bare for her in every way – she’s tied him to the headboard, for fucking out loud. And she wants to be called ‘princess’ in bed. Why is that so hard for her to let him do?

“Have you ever thought about roleplaying it?”

It wouldn’t be an entirely new arena for them. There was the one time after he finished The Windflower. And another time after that when she was imitating her friend’s southern accent and he popped a semi. She noticed and started calling him darlin’ and sugar and rode him like a horse.

But those were pretty minor flirtations with the concept of roleplay. This… would likely take a little more commitment.

Lilly sets the Nook aside. “I… have briefly thought about it, I guess. Fleeting notions.”

She’s got her professional, “I’m uncomfortable” voice on. He wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t.

“Tell me about these fleeting notions,” he whispers, a small smile at his lips to encourage her. She must see something she trusts because she goes a little pink and looks up at the ceiling.

“I’ve always liked the whole ‘trapped in the highest room of the tallest tower’ concept. I hate myself for it because a bitch can rescue herself in 2018,” she pauses and smirks at his chuckling laughter, “but it’s nice. It’s the fairytale.”

Ok, he can work with that. But he wants more logistics.

“And so you’re in the highest room of the tallest tower. What am I? The charming stable boy?”

She chirps a laugh. He’s pleased to hear it – he wants her to open up. “God, no. C’mon, babe, you’re already a walking, talking Disney prince. You were born to roleplay royalty.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her. She wrinkles her nose and pecks his cheek.

“And do princesses use sex toys or are we going old school?”

Another surprised laugh. She looks at him incredulously. “Are you seriously considering this?”

“Totally. It could be fun.” He looks so earnest. She could scream. Instead, she kisses him again.

“Well, to be honest, I haven’t put all that much thought into specific details. I… I think I like the element of surprise. The spontaneity.”

That makes sense. Lilly has a thing for surprises. When she was 18, her parents gifted her with a trip to Disney. They filmed her reaction to the surprise. She cried so ridiculously that her dad put it on YouTube. Shawn makes a mental note.

“Mmk. Well maybe this can be your birthday present. How much does it cost to rent a castle, do you think?”

Out of almost any other boyfriend’s mouth, this would surely be a joke. But not Shawn. Her eyes bug out as she can see him pondering.

“Oh my god,” she squeals, recoiling at the idea that he’d go to some effort for this, “Don’t do that, don’t rent a castle, oh my god.”

She’s usually eloquent so when the idea of a castle renders her dopey, he knows he’s on the right track. He’s taking mental notes all over the place.

“Ok, maybe not a castle. But, like, a tiara for sure, right?”

Lilly goes squirmy and quiet again. He’s overwhelming her. He wants to dive in to her head.

“Lill, what’s up? We talk about anything. We talk about the dumbest shit. And the realest shit. Why is this so weird for you?”

She feels bad looking up at his big, searching brown eyes as he pleads for her to open up to him.

“I’m just… it’s the basic concept of it. It feels… childish to me. One of the many things I should’ve grown out of long ago. And—and it’s inherently selfish.”

“What? Having a fantasy?”

“No… it’s the princess thing. It’s… it’s about wanting… to be worshipped.”

Shawn blinks. Oh.

“You think I don’t want to worship you?”

Lilly’s eyes bug again. “No! I don’t think you should. That’s not what love is. Love is about partnership and equality and communication and—”

“Yeah, but we’re not talking about love, Lill. We’re talking about a fantasy.”

She pouts. He wants to shake her. She doesn’t think she’s worth the effort. He resolves then and there to change her mind.

“It’s a special, sexy thing. Fantasies aren’t about what we want out of life, right? It’s just a fun little game. And I could think of bigger sacrifices I could make than to worship you for a night.”

Lilly pinks up again, smiling a little. He noses at her cheek, silently asking for a kiss. She grants his wish.

+

September 13th, 2020

Shawn hops right on the idea once he has it. He sends a text only a few days after she goes home and he continues out on the road:

Shawn: location secured. November 21st. Be there or be square.

He sends the peace sign emoji with it, because, of course he does.

He doesn’t let her in on a lot of details, which she completely loves, but of course, complains about constantly because he’s putting so much effort into this, for her, she should be helping. But he won’t hear of it.

There’s one thing he lets her do herself – costume.

His voice on the other end of the phone makes her smile like it always does.

“I found itttt,” she declares in a sing-songy voice.

It takes him a moment to catch up. “Oh shit, yeah? That’s great, babe. Did you order it?”

“Not yet. Sammi has to take my measurements first. She’ll be over in a couple hours.”

“Are you gonna tell me what it looks like?”

“Absolutely not, where’s the fun in that?”

He grumbles. “Just tell me what color it is?”

“It’s… several colors.”

“Lilly, did you buy a fucking rainbow corset?”

She snorts. “No. Relax.”

“Ok, whatever. As long as it’s what you want.”

She hums happily, spinning around their empty bedroom in a circle, barefoot. “It’s perfect. It might actually kill you. This roleplay might have casualties.”

He could think of worse ways to go.

+

September 30th, 2020

“I’m watching Sleeping Beauty for inspiration.”

“Oh god, Shawn.”

He sips at his beer without taking his eyes off the hotel TV. The bright, Disney-fied animation hurts his eyes a little. It’s trippier than he remembers. And Merriweather is still funny.

“D’you think I should slay a dragon or something? Like, what’s our motivation?”

Lilly grins and leans back against the brick wall outside her office.

“Like, what’s the story?” she offers.

“Yeah. Who are we playing? And what are they doing? Are they married?”

Lilly tries to cover the shiver that rips through her at his mentioning marriage so casually, like it’s an inevitable part of their future and not at all weird that they’d be roleplaying as married characters. She clears her throat to recover.

“Uhm, well, we could do a forbidden love sitch.”

“Hmmm, I like that,” he muses, narrowing his eyes to study Prince Philip’s horse. Then he remembers Lilly’s terrified of horses. No horses, then.

“I sort of pictured… like… two young royals from rival kingdoms. Both betrothed to other people. But they meet and fall in love and they’re discovered so the princess is locked away until the night before her wedding. And then he finds her and makes sweet love to her before they run away together.”

Shawn has stopped watching the movie altogether. “You’ve… put a lot of thought into this.”

“I have,” she admits, only blushing a little.

“Have you written the script yet?” he teases. She wrinkles her nose at him like he likes even though he can’t see her.

“I like preparation. And I like storytelling.”

“And you like fairytales.”

“And I love fairytales. So. There’s your story. That work for you?”

He smiles devilishly, thinking about her reaction when they actually get to fucking do this. “Works for me, baby.”

+

October 9th, 2020

Shawn: Hey. I know we agreed on Prince Eric and Princess Scarlett but… do you think you can be Princess Lilly instead? I just really love your name. And I want you to be you. Just, like, the princessy version. You can still call me Eric if you want.

Lilly: Omg <3 <3 <3 no. Let’s be Prince Shawn and Princess Lilly. That’s better. That’s perfect.

+

November 21st, 2020

Unsurprisingly, he planned it perfectly.

They’re spending Thanksgiving with her dad’s side in New England so he books the “secret location” in Maine for the weekend before.

They agree to become Prince Shawn and Princess Lilly at the cottage after they have a nice dinner and relax, rather than feeling like they’re waiting for the moment to snap into character.

She sleeps on the flight. He’s too keyed up. He just—it just has to go perfectly.

She feels a little like a princess when he wakes her up on the plane with a kiss on the nose. They’re both quiet waiting for the rental car but then he opens her door and cracks a joke about her “chariot awaiting” and they both giggle like idiots and fiddle with the radio so she can listen to the Bruins game.

The GPS takes them an hour and a half outside Portland to what can only be described as a storybook town. He’s made reservations at a little French bistro. They sit inside by the window, undisturbed by fans, whispering and stealing little innocent hand brushes and pecks on the lips between bites like they’re in the fresh, new months of an infant relationship.

They get in the car and fall quiet again. Her brain is sizzling with anticipation. He can’t stop finger drumming on the steering wheel as he follows the GPS. It takes them down dimly lit, tree-lined roads until the final turn. He reaches for her hand, giving it a squeeze to reassure them both.

“Oh,” she breathes when the trees break and she sees it. Her heart actually flutters in her chest.

It’s a cottage straight out of the Grimms’ fairytales. If she designed it herself, she couldn’t have made it better. It glows from the inside with light – he had the owners come out and get the heating going, leave them some firewood.

She turns to stare at him, flabbergasted. He’s delighted and in full agreement.

“I know, right?” he chirps at her silence, “But listen, it wasn’t easy. There’s a fine line between fairytale and horror movie.”

She coos and leans across the center console of the Land Rover to kiss him. He smiles against her lips, accepting her praise easily.

“It’s perfect, love.”

He shoos her inside when she tries to get the bags and if it wasn’t clear, he’s taking this prince thing very seriously.

The cottage is warm and homey. The furniture is soft, designed for comfort. The art on the walls is all very Thoreau. There’s a nook in the kitchen for breakfast. It’s fucking picturesque.

She eyes the staircase. It’s the only thing about the physical roleplay they’ve planned. Or, that they’ve planned together. It’s their starting point – he arrives to whisk her away the night before her doomed wedding. She’s upstairs in her bedroom and descends the staircase to greet him.

And from there… who knows.

Lilly’s stomach jumps anxiously. She focuses on replaying the corset self-lacing instructions she’s memorized in her head while he putters around. She’s standing in the center of the living room staring at nothing when he gets her attention.

“Do you want to go get changed?” he offers timidly, brushing a thumb over her cheek.

She smiles a little weakly and nods, looking toward her bag. Shawn makes to turn away but she takes his hand and pulls him in for a searing kiss.

When they separate, he blinks at her. She smiles. “I love you, Shawn Mendes.”

He feels warm all over. He knows what she means – that she doesn’t need all this from him to love him. That he alone is enough. But she appreciates it all anyway.

“I love you, Lillian Cutler Parker.”

“Ugh, you middle named me. And Lillian-ed me. At the same time,” she whines, breaking the tension. He laughs gratefully.

“Go,” he urges, swatting her backside as she reaches for her bag and heads upstairs.

This is the hard part. She warned him ahead of time that the corset is a task and a half to get on by herself, even with her practicing. He’s going to have to wait a while.

This place is old school – there’s no TV or WiFi. Not that he’d want to be distracting himself right now, it would be weird to go from watching Fresh Prince reruns to unlacing Lilly’s corset with his teeth in under ten minutes, but he’s twitchy.

He forces himself to sit. His wandering mind finds her.

The truth is, he’s been worshipping Lilly since the moment he saw her (rather appropriately, floating on a golden dragon) in his own way.

He waited for her patiently, got to know every intimate detail of her life until he was her best friend, and she his, and she made the big gesture. He always smiles like an idiot when he thinks about that first kiss, the one that he missed so it landed on his ear. He chuckles and runs hands through his hair.

He knows very well she’s worth worshipping. Admittedly, it boggles his mind to think she doesn’t. But he gets that, too. He still can’t believe it when he can sell out venues all around the world and walk on stage in front of thousands of shrieking fans who know the words to his songs better than he does. It’s hard to imagine you’re worth that much fuss. But it’s easy for the person you love.

He’s jarred out of his sappy adoration when he hears a door shut. His head snaps to look at the landing above the staircase where she’ll appear. It takes her a minute. She’s probably giving herself the same pep talk in her head that he’s attempting right now.

He stands, runs his hands down the front of his slacks to wick away the sweat on his palms. He thrusts his hands through his hair again and sniffs.

When he looks up again, she’s there.

It isn’t Lilly.

This shivering, wide-eyed doe of a woman is wearing Lilly’s body but she isn’t Lilly. She walks tall, shoulders straight and chest lifted, the posture of another time.

Her cheeks are deeply flushed, her lips wet and parted. His chest burns as he instinctively lowers to one knee before her. Her breasts rise high out of her corset as she inhales at the sight. There is no stopping the word once it tumbles out of his brain. It has to be said. It is inevitable.

“Princess,” he breathes.

Taglist: @the-claire-bitch-project @smallerinfinities @crapri @stillinskislydia @abigfatmess

[putschki1969]

Japan ~ Summer 2018 #2 🎌🚅

Quick introduction: Hello my lovlies!! As most of you might already know, I went to Japan this summer. It was a rather spontaneous decision based on the fact that both Hikaru and Wakana had announced their solo lives. At that point I was suffering from a serious case of Kalafina withdrawal so I felt like I had no choice but to go. I just needed to see them. Also, it was my 30th birthday so I thought I would treat myself. You only turn 30 once, right? On a side note, the timing finally gave me the opportunity to do something I had wanted to do for a few years now. Climb Mount Fuji. o(〃＾▽＾〃)o So yeah, that’s the backstory of my trip. I stayed in Japan from July 30 till August 14 and pretty much my entire trip was dedicated to Kalafina Pilgrimage. Let me tell you this, it was by far the best summer vacation of my life, worth each and every penny! And believe me, there were a LOT of pennies involved XD

Notes: Once again this is coming pretty late but not as late as my previous travel report so that’s a good thing. It took some time to gather my thoughts and put them all into words. This report will be a bit different from the last one since I thought it would be nice to include some travel tips here and there. I guess you could see this as some sort of travel guide/Kala-guide. Many of my followers have never been to Japan so I guess some general info would be useful to make things easier for you if you ever decide to travel to Japan.

Please note that this is Part 2 of my report. It is dedicated to my time in Toyama. Part 1 can be found HERE!

Without further ado, let’s get to it 〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→

Aug 4 (Sat) ~ Toyama Trip

I decided I would dedicate that entire day to a Toyama trip. I made the mistake of not reserving a seat in advance for the shinkansen. I usually always do that but for some reason I didn’t think the train to Toyama would be that frequented. Turns out I was wrong (at least when it comes to the fast bullet train - the Kagayaki). When I got to Ueno that morning I was planning to take one of the earlier trains but it was already completely booked out. Later on I found out that Aug 4/5 was the Toyama Matsuri weekend so it's really no surprise that all the shinkansen seats had already been reserved. I ended up getting a ticket for the 10:14 Kagayaki which meant I would arrive in Toyama around noon (a little later than planned but oh well, there was nothing that could be done about it). It was my first time taking the Hokuriku Shinkansen so I splurged a little on a fancy ekiben °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° For those of you who don’t know, ekibens are bento boxes sold at train stations. You can eat them on a long shinkansen ride. There are so many different types to choose from. But I’d personally recommend the one I got. The E7 Bento Box. Like many others, the Hokuriku shinkansen has a very distinctive look so of course, it also has its very own bento box XD And boy, is it a cute box! Perfect to keep as a souvenir. And the good thing about it, there’s mostly stuff in it that I actually eat (I am a VERY picky eater!). The special Ueno Coca Cola bottle is also cute as hell btw!

The ride to Toyama takes a little over two hours I think. I arrived around noon (maybe at 12:30 or something). Shortly before I arrived I realised that I had forgotten my USB cable. I brought my charging battery but it was useless to me without a USB cable At that point I had already used my phone quite extensively and my battery was at around 60%. I was already starting to panic a little because I had all these plans for Toyama but they required me to use google maps, without google maps to rely on, I wouldn’t be able to find ANY of the places I wanted to visit. When I arrived I was greeted by a gorgeous little street festival, right outside of Toyama Station there were lots of people gathering around a handful of dance groups. It was quite pretty and spectacular. But at that point I was already scared to use my phone for anything except google maps so I didn’t take any pictures. *sobs* Such a shame. First I made my way to the Nanakosi shop that sells those pastries Hikaru mentioned in the 10th Anniversary Film. It’s located inside the Sōgawa Ferio Grand Plaza which is about a 20 min walk away from Toyama Station. Usually 20 min is nothing for me and I always try to explore new areas on foot but man, it was hell to go there. It was really hot that day and my battery was dropping faster than expected in the heat. Google maps was constantly crashing on me and it didn’t seem to work properly. I kept going the wrong way (please note that I have no sense of direction whatsoever). So yeah, I was a mess. Frantically I was trying to find a shop that sold USB cables but for some reason I had a really hard time finding one. Usually they sell those in conbinis but I couldn’t even find one of those. Plus, I was scared to venture too far away from my route since I thought I might get lost. Thank God I eventually managed to find a 100 yen shop. They have everything, including USB cables. After that I was able to relax and focus on my Hikaru pilgrimage.

So yeah, like I said, I was walking towards Ferio Grand Plaza. On my way there I passed Toyama Castle. It’s a nice little castle with a small garden but nothing to write home about. When I arrived at Grand Plaza I was greeted by yet another festival. A nice little wind ensemble was playing popular songs such as “Under the Sea” from The Little Mermaid, it was quite epic. They were all wearing uniforms, it was some sort of commemorative event to celebrate the 60th anniversary of the Toyama police department band or something .

Grand Plaza is a really nice gathering place that’s protected by a glass ceiling but it’s still outdoors. It’s a wide open space and often used as venue for events like the one mentioned above. While enjoying the concert I bought myself one of those infamous Nanakosi pastries.

I got the one with custard because I am not a fan of the standard bean filling. I’ll be real with you, it wasn’t all that great (sorry, Pika-chan T_T). I think it might be more enjoyable in winter but during a hot summer day it was just too much (and that’s coming from someone who can usually eat a lot of sweet stuff). There was just too much filling. It was a struggle to finish it. Afterwards I walked around the Ferio Grand Plaza area a bit to find the Doutor Coffee shop that Hikaru had worked at in her student days. It’s very close to the Nanakosi shop so everyone should be able to find it quickly. It’s the Toyama Sōgawa shop in case any of you want to check it out ( 〒930-0083 Toyama-ken, Toyama-shi, Sōgawa, 3 Chome−5−４ アキオビル 1F).

My next stop was the Yamaha Music Center which was also mentioned in the 10th Anniversary Film. It’s only a 10-minute walk from Grand Plaza (although I took a lot longer because google maps was messing with me again or maybe I was just too stupid to follow the directions, I don’t know). At any rate, the center is a little hidden away in the backstreets of Toyama so it wasn’t exactly easy to find. Of course the heat made everything seem a lot worse XD. Here’s the address for those of you who want to go there one day => 富山音楽センター 〒930-0049 富山県富山市豊川町５-６

Then it was time to head north, to Kansui Park. You simply follow the river for about 30 minutes and then you are there, it felt really nice to walk along the riverside, the trees were providing some shade, there was a nice breeze so close to the water and you could listen to the cicadas singing. Oh boy, I underestimated how loud they could actually get. I had never heard them before because I always travel to Japan in the winter time.

Kansui Park is absolutely gorgeous! This is where Kalafina performed during the Stardust Illusion Festival. I summarised Hikaru’s blog post from that day. She talks about how that was one of the most special lives for her so of course I had to go and see where it took place. Hikaru also mentioned the infamous Kansui Park Starbucks which is known for its lovely terrace views. And really, it DID have some nice views. I took a little break there and tried to cool down with a cold drink. Afterwards I headed to Aubade Hall, the venue of Hikaru’s dreams. She has mentioned in a couple of blog posts that ever since she was little she always wanted to perform there. And Kalafina did end up performing there twice. Once back in 2015 for their fotw tour and then last year for their 9+ONE tour. It’s about 10 minutes away from Kansui park, pretty close to Toyama Station actually. Here’s the address => Aubade Hall (Toyama City Art and Culture Hall), 9-28 Ushijimacho, Toyama, Toyama Prefecture 930-0858, Japan

Then I wanted to have some dinner and I thought about going to the Izakaya that Kalafina always go to when they are in Toyama. It’s called Soratobu Usagi which pretty much means Flying Bunny XD. You can even check out their signatures at the bar. It’s quite cool. BUT I decided against it since they only have seafood and I don’t really eat seafood. So I slowly headed back to the station and ordered some gyoza (because I always crave gyoza XD) at a random restaurant. I finally got to relax after walking around in the heat (I didn’t really walk that much but it felt like I had run a marathon due to the humidity). While watching the sunset I ate my yummy giant gyoza and then I took the train back to Tokyo.

❗ Some tips ❗ 

Always bring your charging battery AND a USB cable

Conbinis and 100 yen stores have everything in case you are ever in need of a random product

Always reserve your shinkansen seat tickets in advance. It’s best to reserve them at least a day ahead if you are planning to travel during communiting hours or during the weekend.

Prepare an itinerary so you don’t waste your time going back and forth between locations. I started with the lower part of Toyama and visited all the places in that area. Then my plan was to head north where another bunch of places were located. Do your research before you travel and life will become so much easier. You can lose track of all the places you wanna visit if you don’t have an itinerary and then you might end up having regrets because you didn’t get to see everything you wanted to see. I mean, you don’t have to strictly stick to your plan but just see it as a sort of guideline.

When you are taking the shinkansen splurge on an ekiben. Yes, I know they are totally overpriced but really, they are pertty delicious most of the time and it’s just part of the shinkansen experience.

Aug 5 (Sun) ~ Lazy Shopping Day

I didn’t actually do much on that day. After all I wanted it to be a relaxing holiday and not just one exhausting trip after the other. Plus, the heat really took a toll on me so I felt like I needed some downtime. So yeah, I just did some shopping (mostly window shopping) and eating. I walked around Tokyo Station and happened across an IENA store. Guess what I found there? Yup, Hikaru’s blouse, right in front of me. In my previous post I mentioned that I originally wasn’t planning to buy it since it was just way too expensive. But after climbing Mount Fuji and after celebrating my 30th birthday I just felt like I deserved a treat. I realise I have said the same thing about my nail salon appointment but oh well, you only live once. So yup, that’s the story of how I ended up buying the blouse even though I was initially not intending to.

This was me during the entire trip.👇

The rest of the day was spent in all kinds of shopping malls in Shibuya/Shinjuku. I am actually quite proud that I didn’t buy anything else. But on this trip I really wanted to focus on Kalafina so I didn’t feel the need to spend money on random clothes or accessories. But I always enjoy just looking at stuff. We don’t have any of these malls here in Vienna (at least not in those huge dimensions) so it’s a cool experience to check everything out. To wrap up the day, I had some yummy dinner and then I headed back to the hotel to pack for my upcoming trip to Fukuoka.

[teensoftware444]

Best Tinder Hookup Profile

Ever wonder who has the best Tinder profiles? What “best of Tinder” status actually looks like?

Best Hookup Bios For Tinder

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Here are 3 of the top Tinderers (by likes):

Apart from The Chive, in choosing 5 best hookup Tinder strategies and statistics to get laid we used an interesting piece of advice given by successful male Tinder users on Bustle and official. The Best Tinder Bios to Get Laid. I’m going to come right out and say it; there are no best Tinder bios to get laid. Your Tinder bio is the least important facet of your profile to get laid. If you want to get laid on Tinder, you need good photos first. No matter how witty your profile description is, it won’t make up for unattractive photos.

When these 3 appeared on TV, many viewers were stunned by how ordinary they were.

I mean, they’re good-looking. BUT they’re not the hottest people you’ve ever seen. Instead, what sets them apart is they’ve mastered the art of making a killer Tinder profile. Like this one:

If you’re an average-looking guy who wants to clean up on Tinder like the best, these are the Tinder profile examples you need. Here are their secrets.

1. About Me Examples (Copy-Paste)

According to guys with the most high-performing Tinder profiles, your “about me” tagline needs to be light-hearted and short.

Avoid raising red flags with whining or complaints, sexual innuendo, or anything negative. Try one of these proven Tinder taglines:

“If you like water, you already like 72 percent of me.”

“I’ll treat you the way Kanye treats Kanye.”

It’s fair to say that our interracial dating community represents the enlightened majority in American society. A Gallup poll in 2013 found that 96% of black people and 84% of white people approve marriage between blacks and whites. This means that 87% of Americans overall see no problem with black-white marriage, up from a meager 4% in 1958 1. https://teensoftware444.tumblr.com/post/657489259390959616/elite-singles-interracial-dating. Questions about online dating? Enjoy our ultimate online dating guide; Interracial Dating. If there were previously stereotypes, preconceptions or presumptions about interracial dating, these outdated attitudes are transforming as more and more American singles are seeking partners from other ethnic groups, and couples’ relationships no longer being defined along racial lines.

“I know all the words to ‘Butterfly’ by ‘Crazy Town’.”

“I can make a better sandwich than you.”

(For more suggestions for your Tinder’s “about me” section, check out The Best Funny Tinder Bios for Guys: Clever, Geek, Jock (Copy-Paste).)

2. Tinder Profile Photos

a) Copy the best profiles— use all six slots.

The best Tinder profiles start with a clear shot of the person’s face.

For the rest, variety is key: a pic with friends, in a suit, travel pic, hobby candid, athletic candid.

b) Test your pics on Photofeeler to find your best.

The best of Tinder have great photos of themselves. They aren’t the most attractive people necessarily, but they know how to sell themselves with a picture.

Most guys COMPLETELY FAIL at using pictures that are even as attractive as they are in real life. Most guys choose pics that bring their number down.

Before you waste your Tinder matches on the wrong photos, be sure to run yours through Photofeeler to know exactly how women are responding to them.

Choosing profile pictures this way has been known to increase matches on Tinder by 200-400%.

Go to Photofeeler.com now and give it a try!

Free message dating app. Know all about tinder bio and right swipes here with our best list of suggestions for girls and boys.

I don’t mind telling you- that for whatever reason you think you need to copy paste something about yourself from a web page, you are wrong. I hate beating around the bush so am going to cut right to chase. As gayish and as girlish as it may sound, folks…write what you are. Yeah and do sprinkle some necessary ingredients along with sarcasm, humor, wits, stay cute a bit, reflect you’re a man of words and most importantly for god sake’s don’t fake.Read along everything you need to know about tinder bios to flourish with a maximum number of swipes. I will let you know few best pointers to follow once you are on to write down about you on tinder, and you will see how the plus counting will follow once you build your bio according to your personality traits. Well, there has to be some chance of you knowing the fact that bios are written to let the other party know what you are like.Frankly, the statistics have been done. Yet, needless to say, a human brain works in peculiar ways my friend, mostly when it comes to online dating. Every individual listed are not looking for something special and you will come across that some time or the other. It’s really important to say that reflects your personality and your intentions as a whole. You don’t want yourself lying dead in some dark alley because you dated a criminal or worse scenario you attracted some psychotic to be your date.I am going to show you few of the best bios where you can understand and learn how amazingly you can frame out your words because as long as online dating and tinder is concerned, WORDS play to be a lethal weapon in grabbing attention and gaining a maximum number of swipes.Related article: 10 Best Hookup apps you’re searching for!

6 BEST TINDER BIO FOR BOYS

Boys are a different race altogether and the way their alternatively wired brains function are utterly praiseworthy. I mean come on, if you are a guy reading this, you probably have a smirk on your face because I know you feel me. See there isn’t anything terrific about writing a mind-blowing bio in tinder. It takes nothing more than some smoking words to set the girlish brains on fire with a first glance and BOOM! you’re a right swipe.

1. No Fuss Bio

There is an absolute requirement for being straightforward while you writing on tinder and being a guy its necessary for you lay down your intentions on the table like whiskey on the rocks. Let me just show you an example from a guy’s tinder bio I peeped into from my sister’s phone that sounded something like this-“Like living alone, Food, cold beer, dogs, sci-fi books, rock music, love to discuss and talk about everything related to being creepy, ask me for skating in Michigan lake, people my kind will be appreciated”Dude… even I would swipe back right for this guy for being so straight up. This is how you’ve got to nail the bio shit on Tinder. It’s all very straightforward and this guy seems to know what he wants to reflect to a girl.

2. Creative Stuff

Creativity is picking out your own flaws and selling them a hand on fist. Boys, if you have to rate to the top, you really have to dig out some creative stuff trending on tinder. I mean you won’t imagine the level of creativity guys put into their tinder bios. Don’t believe me yet? Check this out-

“Facts about me only on request.

I go six feet without heels and 6’6 with, got a six tuxedo wardrobe so don’t hesitate to ask me out for summer weddings. Friends call me outgoing but I don’t mind Netflix on my couch if you are comfortable doing me there”Now that’s humor and creativity blended into a nice morning smoothie to gulp down for chick’s on fleek. Creativity has always been sexy. Take an artist or a musician for an example… girls scream and sigh to be with one.

3. Laid Back Me

When I say ‘Be you’, take it seriously because there is absolutely no need to pretend about your laziness, if only I could add a LOL here I would. So what I mean to say is if you are laid back, PLEASE let it reflect in your bio. Girls aren’t much behind boys these days when it comes to craziness and some of them love petting guys. So if you are lazy and romantic so be that to the fullest. Take a look at this guy who totally nailed it when it came to reflecting his interests.“Love traveling, surfing, tech is my thing, long walks on the beach, spontaneous trips to Paris for freshly baked bread would be great for weekends, I am a guy to have espresso with, take your chances I might just get off the market soon”Aweee, as gayish as it may sound… this dude sounds unreal! But guys reading this please try to be romantic for F sake. It’s required sometimes. Girls would love a lazy weekend and awesome sunset walks along the beach and know it’s absolutely addicting when it comes to Paris and freshly baked bread.

4. Humor off Radar

Adding humor to tender bio is adding fuel to fire. You don’t agree? You will be surprised how easy it gets to have right swipes when you have a sprinkle of funny write up to showcase on tinder. It’s to build up that “want to know him more” thing in their forever working brains.

“I am an astronaut, appeared for the cover of GQ and later became a French spy. I am psychic and love time traveling, recently have been to 2025 and saw myself sailing across the Caribbean with a girl with red hair, shaken yet?Okay exaggerated a bit, but I did complete science as major and luckily can humor more than the regular once in my batch, gotta swipe right to know more about me”That was too cute to have been said he sounded futuristically unreal for a girl to fit her brains around, any which ways, do try out humor because girls love it. Humor is all that a smart girl looks for with some mix of right attitude and sexy along the side.

5. Short and Attractive

There is always space for you to be all sexy with the max effect. And that’s how few men do it with least minimum action words but with more depth.

“Dog lover, food is worshipHave been a drummer so love banging”

Cool bro, this guy is all set to get laid on his first date, mentioning about his musical skills and all. Not that I am jealous, just saying.

6. Lengthy yet Interesting

If you are planning to write a long list of details about you, make sure you sound interesting. No girl has time to really open up to a complete essay about you even before she knows you in person. Save them some time, and even if you do write, write some insanely sexy words to blow their mind off, then and there.

Best Hookup Bios For Tinder

“Precise EnglishAwesome cookRegular to gymFoodieDisney World returnOwner of three cars Love to ride Audi on Saturdays” Over 40 friends date. That is some really good stuff and it explains how writing lengthy can pay off in the end.

6 BEST TINDER BIO FOR GIRLS

I guess girls on tinder don’t really have to worry about getting right swipes because they already do. Yet I exactly know where their interest lies… girls face problems in getting the right swipe from the right person. But there isn’t a lot of hard work to get what you want on tinder.Best tinder bios for girls are the ones which are really witty and yet again straightforward. They always rank to gain the highest swipes on tinder. Check out our six best bios for girls after which you too can easily take some ideas and tweak around to build up your own flawless tinder bio.

1. The Perfect One

A perfect bio build up by a girl reflects how serious they are with tinder profile and that is actually a good thing for boys to handle. Girls, if you are a fan of building up a nice and perfect bio about yourself then please go ahead like this one

“I love dogs, and prefer men in shape because I find men out of shape to be overly sensitive somehow”

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It reflects what kind of men you like and a little glimpse of your liking as well. It really leaves something to the imagination of men, just don’t forget to add up a nice display picture.

2. The Realist

Realist girls would love bios like these and why not do something similar when it comes to building your own bio? I suggest you write something which really turns out to be an exact replica of your realist nature. It really does work. Guys love girls who are clear with their ideas and aren’t afraid to express that on tinder. Take a look at this bio for an instance“I like long walks on the beach, and i know why you are swiping along instead being surrounded by friends because somewhere your search is still on, know that i like to cuddle in baggy clothes while I watch Netflix happily all weekends, so don’t expect me to dress up and go out for a date night when am all cozy, and just so you know I am currently in an open relationship with 3 female roommates, text to let me know if that would be a problem with you?”

Wow, that’s just so inviting. I mean you read this and it’s like “let’s see if her roommates are out this weekend”.

3. The Cheesy One

This is my personal favorite because it’s amazing how guys react to a cheesy pickup line or bio. It’s like cheesy words just drills a deep impact on them and they are golden. Yet nothing can beat the kind of cheesy stuff girls write on tinder these days sure you can if you put in that effort but first check out these two which turns out to be gaining thousands on swipes overnight“I believe men have two emotions to the maximum, Hungry and Horny. If I don’t see with an erection I might get you your favorite sandwich”“Since I’m good with cooking I can make you some dessert but if you are hungry for oversweet dishes there is always me”It’s so cheesy that any guy would swipe right. Don’t just copy paste through built up your own because there is nothing like putting your own words into action and see the results.Related Article:=' color:=''>='color:>Best Flirting App for both iOS and Android=' color:=''>='color:>

4. The Pizza Lover

I personally categorize people into two different sects, one who likes pizza and the other one you know who. I know girls like 99.9% are in love with pizza and it’s utterly cute when that is reflected on your tinder bio. Get that extra sense of your pizza love into play and build up a tinder bio. Believe me, guys love girls when they talk about eating, I mean that intensity itself is mind-blowing to them. “Finally to have someone of the same taste, pizza lover if you are reading this grab your chance and rescue another pizza lover from these mundane”

“You might not know me yet but if pizzas are your thing only then bother texture”

My God, it’s hard to believe but trust me pizza lovers do take their obsession to next level. It’s almost like a religion to them. So girls if you have a certain obsession with food, please bring it up in your tinder bio because real is always attractive.

5. The Dark Side

Once you decide to type your tinder bio by explaining something about your dark side, don’t step back, guys love reading something different out of the ordinary and it’s so cool. To be honest, don’t start planning a murder in your bio or discuss about a long lost crime you did as a child. But be that girl if you are little nasty, that is like 10/10 for boys to swipe right for.

“Can you meet me in the dark alley beside barneys in 20 min? Lol”

“I love star wars, watching saw after midnight, a game of thrones is a religion for me and I breathe and eat Vikings, oh! Also, I can’t sleep before I repeat watching an episode of my favorite psychological thriller Hannibal. Text if you match my taste”

Wow, that’s like sex with words, I would love to know about this girl more and more and you just know what I mean.

6. The Captivating One

I know most of you would think this one is probably the best one of them all. I guess it has to be because being captivating is something that not all girls can carry. Truth must be told it’s really important to understand the mentality of a guy when he has been swiping more than hundred profiles daily.Making your profile captivating and getting them hooked to your don’t really take much effort yet it does require a little tweaking of words to get to frame that perfect sentence that can really blow their mind off the radar.

“I wonder why would you be on tinder if you’re already.Taken?”

That is exactly what you want your guys to know about you- Nothing. In that way, they will swipe right and your work starts there… to sort the best among the rest.

How Can Tinder Bios Reflect You As A Person??

I am literally writing an answer to this question because it has been asked on our website for like a zillion times. Tinder bio reflects a great deal of a persona and it’s not just about how witty, pretty, funny or awesome you can sound but what you really are as a person. I know it sounds bookish as few words can’t reflect a person’s nature but you really can make a difference. If you are looking for something to match your taste then know that the other person writing about themselves are looking for the exact same things as you are.You’ve been through the entire article and I know what is going round in your mind. You just want to switch to another tab or pick up your other device to get this thing into place. Knowing what a tinder bio should look like calls for an action.I hope this article helps you chalk out a great bio on tinder and get you that right swipe that you deserve. Also when you read your section make sure you read it carefully because putting some of those suggestions into your writing can really help you build a bio that you become an irresistibly interesting person one can’t wait to know about.

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[spencers-dria]

Someone To Stay

An original story by fairytales1896

Spencer Reid x fem reader

5. Maybe, Just Maybe

Spencer POV:

It's been a few days since I hung out with Y/N. I'm truly glad she was the one I got to go with. I feel like we might have a lot in common, and she's easy to be around. For a little while, I almost forgot about everything that happened...about her. The next day the thoughts came sinking slowly back in, but they don't feel as debilitating as they used to. Maybe Derek was right, getting out, being around people, it may not be easy for me but it may be what's best. Maybe I should try to get out of my comfort zone a little. I want to get better, I do. But being social, well it's never been my strong suit, and to try to do it now, when I feel so emotionally vulnerable, it's particularly difficult.

Other than the dinner at Rossi's, my friends haven't been inviting me out as much as they used to. I'm pretty sure they got tired of the inevitable rejection. I want them to see that I'm trying, that I want to do better, to get better. Maybe if I reach out first...

I grab my phone to call JJ. She's like a sister to me, and she's been the best at trying to understand what I've been going through.

"Hey, Spence!" She sounds surprised but glad to hear from me.

"Hey, I was uhh.. well I was just wondering..." my words trail off as I find myself suddenly losing confidence in my endeavor.

"Yeah, what's up?" Her voice has a calming effect on me.

"Well...I was wondering if the team had any plans this weekend? To hang out or...I don't know."

"Actually we don't. But we should! I think I have an idea. There's something I've been wanting us all to do. There's a Lakehouse up for rent, and I think it would be fun if we all went up for a weekend. What do you think?"

I'm not very into outdoor activities, but the idea of reading on a porch by the lake sounds incredibly calming and therapeutic. It also sounds like a good time for me to start hanging out with the team again.

"You know, that actually sounds perfect." I smile at the thought of the much needed weekend getaway.

"Perfect! I'll text the group! Thanks for giving me the nudge to set this up, Spence. It'll be fun."

I hang up and shortly after I hear the familiar ding from the group message chat.

BAU Baddies😎

JJ💖: Hey guys! Who would be down for renting a Lakehouse this next weekend?

DM🍫⚡️: Hell yeah! @ahotchner you know what that means?? Jet Skis baby!! 😜🤙🏻

AB🌹: How fun! Count me in.

DR🇮🇹: I'll cook! I have a new recipe we can try out. I think you'll all love it👌🏻

PG🦄👸🏼: @jjereau @ablake We HAVE to go swimsuit shopping first, ladies! This is a non-negotiable.

AH: Sounds fun, are we bringing the kids this time?

JJ💖: Actually, Will is staying home and he'll be watching Henry. Jack can spend the weekend there, if you'd like. @ahotchner

AH: Thanks. I think I'll take you up on that offer.

DM🍫⚡️: @sreid you better be coming pretty boy, just bring a couple dozen books and you'll be set.

SR♟: Yep, already packing.

I smile to myself, thinking of how for once, I'm the reason we have plans. But if anyone else knew that, I'd never hear the end of it. I knew JJ was being intentional when she didn't mention that to the group. I hear another group chat alert and glance at my phone.

BAU Baddies😎

JJ💖: Hey, is it alright if I invite Y/N again?

AB🌹: Oh I thought that was a given! You definitely need to! She fits in with us so well.

PG🦄👸🏼: You better! Or I won't let you hear the end of it 😂

JJ💖: Great! Thanks you guys, it means a lot that you've been so welcoming to her.

Y/N will be there. Maybe I'll have a friend who will hang back and read with me. It would be nice to not be the only one. Then I remember what she said about moving here because she loves the outdoors. That means she'll probably be hanging out with Derek, JJ, and whoever else. Oh well. At least maybe I'll get to talk to her more. I decide to text her. I never really text anyone, but she doesn't know that.

Spencer📱

Hey, it's Spencer. I heard JJ wanted to invite you to the lake. Do you think you'll go?

Y/N 📱

Yeah! I just got off the phone with her. I can't wait! Are you going?

Spencer📱

Surprisingly...yes. I'll be bringing some books along to pass the time but it'll be nice to have a change of scenery.

Y/N📱

Books??? We'll see about that😉 I love a good book as much as the next bibliophile...but this is a weekend for things you CANT do at home. Anyways, would you want to carpool? We can take turns driving if one of us gets tired. Passenger is in control of snacks and music! 🎶🍿

Spencer📱

Haha, ok deal. We'll work out the details later. And...thanks :)

Y/N📱

Anytime Spencer, can't wait! 👍🏻

I lean back into the couch and smile. Even if we spend the weekend doing different things, at least we'll get to talk on the way there. I feel like she could become a good friend, but I don't want to make any assumptions...I don't do this often.

Y/N POV:

You run around your room, packing for a trip that's days away. You're too excited, it can't wait. Just as you're trying to decide on a swimsuit you get a text from Penelope, saying that the girls are going swimsuit shopping this evening. They want you to come. You can't hide the smile growing on your face. How long has it been since you've been on a girls shopping trip? You can't even remember. It's spontaneous, so you assume no one will be too dressed up. You throw on a black sleeveless t shirt dress and some strappy sandals. Easy enough to get in and out of for trying on clothes. After brushing through your hair and applying some quick, light makeup, you're ready to go. The girls had decided to meet at the mall, for the most options.

You meet up with Aunt JJ, Penelope, and Alex outside of a nice department store.

"I figured we could start here. It has the most options and it's at the end of the mall. So we can work our way down, until we all find something."

Aunt JJ tends to take charge. She's such a mom, but that's part of what you love about her. Always prepared, caring for everyone. Alex found a cute one piece with a wrap to wear as a skirt. Penelope picked out a cute pink and purple polka-dotted swim dress. JJ ended up with a sports-bra fitting bikini top and some athletic looking swim shorts. Still such a typical mom. The only one left is you. You haven't tried on very many things, and what you did try on, never made it out of the dressing room.

"Y/N, why don't you let us pick you out some things to try on, and this time, you have to at least let us see. Deal?" Penelope gives you a look of encouragement.

"Sure" you shrug. "I'll try anything at this point."

Alex stays with you while JJ and Penny go to pick out some swimsuits for you. They return with a few handfuls of options. You try on the first option, picked out by Penny. It's a cute two piece, frilly and pink. You come out and are greeted with a few giggles.

"As cute as this is, I think it's more your style than mine, Penny" you let out a small laugh.

"Oh I know. I just wanted to see you in it! I couldn't pull it off in a thousand years!" She laughs.

"Alright alright, let's keep going." JJ ushers me back into the dressing room.

I come back out in a black two piece. It doesn't show too much skin to make me uncomfortable, but it's really flattering on my curves.

I hear a chorus of "ooooo" and one "yes queen!" that I'm sure came from Penny.

"Really, you guys? It's not too...ya know."

JJ shakes her head at me. "No definitely not. Girl, you're single, you're in your twenties, your body hasn't had a child yet. If you got it, flaunt it. If not now, then when?"

The girls all nod in agreement. You blush. You didn't know you could look this good in a swimsuit. You usually avoided bikinis. You found it hard to feel comfortable in your own skin. Whenever you tried to dress sexy, you just ended up feeling awkward and uncomfortable. It helps to have some friends to encourage you. You look at yourself in the mirror one last time. Okay, even you had to admit, you look hot.

The four of you end the day with lunch, chatting about your plans for the lake.

JJ turns to you. "Y/N, I almost forgot, do you need a ride down there? I can pick you up, if you'd like."

"Ohh uh, no actually. I'm carpooling with Spencer." I give her a shy smile. I know what this looks like. "We're just friends" I quickly interject.

"That's great" she says, giving me her warm smile. "Spence really needs a friend right now. And I bet you do too." There's understanding in her eyes. You're grateful that she didn't try to make more out of it. Aunt JJ knows you, though. She knows you make guy friends much more easily. That aside, you were still so grateful for the day with the girls. They were all so genuine, and easy to get along with. They didn't make you feel like an outsider intruding on their day.

Later that evening, you lay in bed as you try to quiet your mind. Your head is swimming with too many thoughts to fall asleep: anxieties about this weekend, but also excitement and ideas of what you'll do. Not to mention, more time to get to know Spencer better. You wonder what JJ meant when she said Spencer really needed a friend right now. Maybe, just maybe, you'd break through his walls a little more this weekend.

A/N: sorry this one is short-ish. It's kind of a transition chapter so there's not as much content! Building a base, building friendships, hang with me, we're getting there 😁💖✌🏻

[sarahh-ahhbroad]

June 8-11, 2018

I’m’ back from Barcelona!!! Addison, Selma, and I had an awesome weekend in Spain. I’m including several photos in chronological order of our weekend so you can follow along on the order of the trip!

On Friday morning I landed in Barcelona around 9 am. Addison and Selma didn’t come in until later, so I took a bus to Plaça de Catalunya in the heart of the city.

Unintentionally, I started walking down the famous La Rambla, a street that goes from the Plaza towards the water, it is notorious for pick-pockets and crowds.

I was absolutely starving and in my search for something to eat, I wandered into La Boqueria - a huge public market. Again, a very popular tourist spot I didn’t really mean to find. I picked up this lunch from one of the stands.

Since I had some time before Addison and Selma arrived and I couldn’t check into our hostel for a few hours, I decided to take a hop-on, hop-off bus tour of Barcelona. It was perfect because I wasn’t walking with all my stuff, I got to see several attractions all over Barcelona, and it was a great way to get oriented with the city. I bought a day pass and rode both routes.

The Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya - referred to as MNAC was one of the most beautiful sights on my bus tour. 

I got to stop by the Olympic stadium and take a look inside. It was built when Barcelona hosted the Summer Olympics in 1992. 

Another great stop on the bus tour was at this park overlooking all of Barcelona!

Our hostel was located literally right next to the Sagrada Familia. After meeting up with Selma and Addison and checking into the hostel, I grabbed a book and we explored the park nearby. There were dozens of benches to sit and enjoy the spectacular design of this church.

An impressive view of La Sagrada Familia!

On the opposite side from the park there is a pond next to the church and it’s a beautiful scene at dusk. After dinner, we met our hostel roommate, Aiden, an Australian medical student on a backpacking trip. We invited him to join us for some late night sangria at a nearby cozy bar and really enjoyed talking to him!

The next morning Addison, Selma, and I headed back to La Boqueria for breakfast!

Other than it’s obviously impressive array of foods, the attraction of La Boqueria is the beautiful colors and arrangements of the food. 

We finally decided to eat some yummy crepes!

We wandered down La Rambla to the waterfront. This is a view of the statue of Christopher Columbus which greets boats coming into Barcelona. 

There were hundreds of sailboats and yachts in Barcelona this weekend. This view faces the World Trade Center of Barcelona.

A view of Barcelona’s waterfront.

The weather was amazing this weekend and the beaches were filled with people enjoying the sun. We hung out by the beach for a while and got drinks at a little waterfront restaurant.

We next walked towards Barri Gòtic - the Gothic quarter - which has really unique architecture and very old, narrow, winding streets.

Found a friendly fellow American to take a picture of the three of us in the Gothic Quarter. 

We then proceeded to have the same American take a picture of us at Barcelona’s Arc de Triamf about five minutes later!

After our busy day of sightseeing we still had a long night ahead of us! Coincidentally, some boys from UVA were also in Barcelona, so we met up with them for dinner. We ate at a very touristy seafood place along the water, and I loved my seafood paella. Since we ate dinner around 10pm, like most Spaniards do, afterwards we bought bottles of alcohol and headed to the beach for a few hours before going out. We ended up spending the night in a club called Opium, a popular club along the waterfront. We ended up having quite the long walk back to our hostel, and in the morning we checked and we had walked over 20 miles on Saturday!!

On Saturday, after an incredible breakfast at a cafe right next to our hostel we made the trek up to Park Güell. Unfortunately, we were kind of clueless and did not buy park passes ahead of time, so while we were able to walk around the park, we couldn’t go inside. The city is trying to preserve the mosaics by restricting the number of people in the park at any given time. While I was really disappointed, we did get to see some of it from the outside and it will be something for me to do when I go back one day.

As we made our way down from Park Guell, we found more beautiful Spanish streets - and treated ourselves to some amazing gelato!

This is Casa Milà, or La Pedrera, a unique building in downtown Barcelona that contrasts many other buildings of Gaudi’s architecture.

Of course I had to make my last photo something create by Gaudi since I was in Barcelona. This is Casa Batlló - located near La Pedrara. 

We ended our trip by heading back to Plaça de Catalunya, where my trip began, to sit and enjoy Barcelona for a while before catching the metro to the airport. We grabbed dinner near the Plaça as Selma and Addison had to take a flight back to Paris that Sunday night. I stayed in a hotel near the airport before heading home this morning. Although the trip was short and spontaneous, it ended up being an incredible weekend. I would highly recommend Barcelona!

[lolcat76]

Six Senses prompt: Regina soothes Robin after Roland throws a particularly big tantrum that ends in the dreaded "I hate you!"

It’s an adjustment, thethree of them trying to figure out how to live in a small house in Allston.Robin misses his carefully chosen granite countertops; Regina misses her carvedbanister. She has to relearn every step of the new house, every squeak of thestairs, every bubble in the wallpaper.

Robin has to organizehis cookware a good six times before Regina feels comfortable with how he setsit up in her new kitchen cabinets.

Roland has to adjust toa small yard with no trees to climb, and an even smaller bedroom in hisfather’s new house. He doesn’t seem to care that the new house is less than 20minutes from his mother’s house; he wants his window seat in his father’stownhouse and the trees in Regina’s backyard.

He wants nothing tochange; he’s had enough change in his life. Regina can empathize. The part ofher that counted out every step from her bathroom to her bedroom hates the newhouse.

The part of her thatloves Robin loves that she wakes up next to him every day. She doesn’t knowthis house yet, not as much as she wants, but she knows which area rugs mighttrip her up. She knows which drawer knobs are loose. She knows that, soonerrather than later, Robin is going to have to fix the leaking toilet in theguest room because the constant sound of water running through the pipes whenshe can’t sleep at night is enough to drive her slowly insane.

A little thing like aleaky toilet isn’t enough to tarnish Robin’s excitement over the new house. Theparquet floors on the ground floor aren’t quite the cherry wood he laid by handin his townhouse, but he likes them nonetheless. Parquet, cherry, cedar…shedoesn’t really care. They all sound the same under her heels, and she lovesthat he’s making an effort to clear out those tricky rugs so that she won’t betripped up by her own flair for interior design.

He knows that she likesto hear the reassuring click-clack of her heels against the floor, a reminderthat she still occupies time and space. She’s still adjusting to the new count ofsteps, but every day she comes home, she taps her fingers against her thigh asshe makes her way to the kitchen, relieved that every day it takes exactly 127steps to get from the front door to the refrigerator. She might make an attemptat dinner, or she might dig through the menus tacked to the fridge, closing hereyes and pulling one at random so that he can order them something to eat.

She might find him inthe kitchen waiting for her, and she might find that she doesn’t need to worryabout it, because he’s already taken care of it. He worries about their newlyinstalled dishwasher far more than she does. She knows how to load adishwasher. If he wanted the fancy kind that operated on a timer, well then…hewas going to have to learn how to set the timer himself.

Relationships are aboutgive and take, she reminds herself. He gives her grief about loading thedishwasher; she takes his freshly washed t-shirts and sleeps in them. And,because he insisted on having the washer and dryer installed in their mastercloset, she doesn’t have to go far to dig them out.

If it were just the twoof them, she’d happily take the quirks of the house, but they have Roland everyother weekend. He hates the house. He hates the parquet floors. He hates hislittle bedroom, because it doesn’t have a window seat, and he hates the yardthat doesn’t have trees he can climb.

Robin has endlesspatience for his son, and Regina loves children, so why the two of them bickerconstantly on the weekends when they have Roland rocks her to her core.

Three months into livingtogether, and she’s sick and tired of hugging the edge of the mattress on theweekends Roland spends with them. She’s not the kind of person to wade intoparenting issues – no matter what Emma says – but she’ll be damned if she letsRobin’s son hold her hostage in her own home.

She already has too manythings holding her hostage these days. And the leaky toiled may keep her awaketonight, but at the moment she can barely hear it over the wheels turning inhis head. It’s either get up and try to fix the toilet herself, or get Robin toadmit what’s got him sulking on the other side of the mattress.

“Robin,” she says as sheprods him with her elbow. He grunts and digs his face further into the pillow.

Nice try. Even a blindwoman can see that he’s trying to avoid her.

“ROBIN,” she snaps, andthis time she knees him somewhere in the vicinity of his kidneys.

Her aim is still good,if his yelp of surprise is any indication. She silently thanks years of playingfield hockey, then pulls his arm until he’s face-to-face with her.

“I’m awake,” hegrumbles.

This close to him, shehas no trouble reading his body language. He’s wound so tight she’s surprisedhe doesn’t spontaneously shoot from the bed.

“Roland hates it here.”

To his credit, Robindoesn’t argue. Once again, Regina feels that old familiar guilt settling in herchest, making it hard for her to breathe. She counts out her breaths – threecounts in, four counts out. She’s just getting her anxiety under control whenhe pulls her into his arms.

“He doesn’t hate ithere. He hates me.”

Admittedly, Regina isbiased, but she doesn’t see how that’s possible.

You don’t see anything, that snippy little sarcastic voice in herhead says.

Very funny. Also verytrue.

“How can he hate you?You spent a good three hours tonight reading Shel Silverstein to him. And Ican’t see much, but I can see enough to know that Roland spent the entire threehours picking his nose.” She was pretty sure, anyway. “And you didn’t once tellhim to knock it off.”

Robin grunted. “You’reasking me how a child can hate a parent? You? Asking me? I think we both knowwell enough how that happens.”

Also very true, but notin the least bit funny.

“I didn’t ask you how achild could hate a parent. It’s late, and I’m tired, and I don’t want aphilosophical discussion about child rearing. I asked you how your son could hate you.”

Robin sighs, and she’sthrown by how…utterly sad a simple exhalation of breath can be. During thecourse of their relationship, she’s gotten used to his relentless good cheer.As annoying as it can be, he always finds that silver lining, and the fact thathe’s lost in the dark gray clouds now…well, it scares her. “Tell me,” she says.“What happened?”

Robin doesn’t answer,but merely turns away from her and punches his fist into the pillows that shebought for their new bed in their new home. Pillows that were guaranteed by thesalesperson at Macy’s to hold their shape, no matter how much frustration hetakes out on the synthetic goose down. He pounds the pillow into submission andrests his head on it, curling away from her.

“Robin,” she says, andthis time it’s a whisper. “Talk to me.”

“I tucked him intonight, and he told me that he wants to go home. To his mother.”

She can sympathize. Can’tsay that she’s felt the same, but Marian is no Cora, and Roland is no Regina. Ina fairytale book, though, she can understand a child wanting his mother.

“Is that such a badthing?”

He huffs, then throwsher very expensive pillow to the floor. “Is it such a bad thing that my sondoesn’t want to sleep in my house? Yes. Yes, Regina, it’s a bad thing.”

Funny, she thought itwas their house, not his, but she’ssmart enough to know that now is not the time to argue that particular point.

“And when you were hisage, I’m guessing you felt the same.”

“It’s different.” Herolls back onto his stomach and throws an arm over his eyes, clearly done withthis discussion.

“Is it?”

She knows it is, wellbefore she feels his body shift on the bed and lean a little closer to her.Regina knows she’s skirting on the edges of sleeping in separate rooms for afew nights at least, but she can’t take much more of Robin’s tossing andturning and weary moans.

“I didn’t want to sleepin my father’s house because he didn’t like me, not because I didn’t like him,”he says, and he sounds so much like his son that she just wants to pull himclose and let him rest his head on her chest until he drifts off again, lulledby her fingers combing through his hair, but that will hardly solve theproblem.

“And did your fatherever ask you why? Did he ever bother to listen to what you had to say, or didhe just slam the door and then go to sleep next to your mother and keep herawake all night?”

Every muscle in his bodytenses against her, and she’s afraid she’s pushed him too far, but he lets outa long breath and relaxes into the space next to her. “I’m afraid of what he’sgoing to say,” he admits.

“He’s already said hehates you. What could be worse than that?”

Despite his anger, fearand frustration, he chuckles. “Not much,” he admits.

Regina settles a littledeeper into her pillows, tucking her body against Robin’s. “He doesn’t hateyou. He hates this. I hate this. And I think if you weren’t so damn cheerful,you’d admit that you hate this. Change is hard on all of us, but on a littleboy, it feels like the world is ending.”

“I don’t hate this,” hesays, but she wraps her fingers around his lips, silencing him.

“Yes, you do, or elseyou wouldn’t be hanging off your side of the bed to avoid me on the weekendsyou have Roland.”

She expects him toargue, but when he doesn’t, she moves her hand from his mouth to slowly strokethe line of his neck from jaw to collarbone.

“It’s ok to hate change,”she whispers “God knows I do.”

“Yes, but you didn’thave a choice,” Robin says. He’s gearing up for a reasonable, well-thought-outargument, but she doesn’t want to hear it.

“Neither does he,” shepoints out.

He’s quiet for a longtime. If she didn’t know him better, she’d think he fell back to sleep, but shecan feel the tension in the shoulders that lay pressed to her chest. He’sworking things out in his mind, trying to find the magic answer that will makethis situation better for them all.

There is no magicanswer, she wants to tell him. They’re just going to have to stumble through inthe dark and hope they don’t get tripped up on the edges of the rugs they’velaid down to make their little home pretty.

And if they do, they’rejust going to have to believe that someone will be there to catch them whenthey fall.

[adakaias]

travelin’

pbb 2017 fic! read on ao3 here

author: me (@bladegays)

beta: @spaceisbeautiful

artist: @beginblu

word count: 12.7k

rating: general

warnings: animal death, homophobia mentions

summary: Dan and Phil were travellers, constantly exploring and venturing off. However, they take a break from their adventures to foster a puppy, and end up looking even more like a married couple, by none other than platonically sharing a bed. You know, because the puppy sleeps there, of course. However, when the puppy is adopted, there shouldn’t be a reason to still share a sleeping space, should there? Turns out they’re both pining after each other but are too oblivious to realize.

read under the cut or on ao3 here

  1.

  Up, away, off their feet, off the ground, out of town, out of sight, far, far away. It was always time to travel with Dan and Phil. Whether it be a tropical seaside or a busy city, the adventurous duo often found themselves in crazy places. They were a good pair, though. They would have to be to spend so much time together, constantly exploring and searching.

  Phil was a youtuber, more specifically, a travel vlogger. He had around five million followers and a loving audience who admired his ventures. When he wasn't travelling, he supplied other videos such as the stereotypical challenge with his own creative twist, or collaborations with friends— most of the time being Dan.

  Dan was also a part of the YouTube community, with two million subscribers, however he wasn't exactly a youtuber, and didn't upload to a schedule like his housemate did. His videos weren't set up with cameras and lights in a room, but were instead spontaneous and usually artsy, like two minute footages of a camera drone flying over a canyon, or exotic birds in a neat sanctuary. He appreciated the aesthetic he could keep up, making youtube just a creative space for himself rather than a job.

  Now, being the devoted travellers that they were, they spent a lot of time together. Their friendship could be described in a variety of ways, but they were both dependant on each other, and easily would admit it. They'd lived together for nine years, and known each other for a year before that. The special 2009 year, all the way up to the year 2019, and ten years of growing and learning was a lot to take in.

  But their everyday lives were not quite similar to this legacy then held up. If that was considered a legacy, at the least. The real, authentic Dan and Phil were just two friends who liked to travel in each other's company.

  And even though the adored travelling, seeing new sights and exploring, they loved going home. That one familiar place where they could just rest and relax. Home was where they were headed after a week-long trip in Los Angeles for a Youtube convention and a visit to some of their American friends. They decided to pick an early flight, even though airports were never not busy, but the early hours of the morning had a more tame atmosphere.

  They arrived at the airport at three in the morning, checking in by four. They were set for when they were going to fly at four forty-five, so they decided to grab a coffee and head for the terminal. They found the number they were assigned, but it was deserted. Only one young woman was there, sat with a laptop.

  Dan glanced at his phone. The time read four fifteen, so the flight was only in half an hour, yet no one was there. “That's weird,” he mumbled to Phil, as he snatched their tickets from the other’s hand and read them over.

  “It is kinda strange, maybe there was just less people?” Phil sounded confused as they stood there. “Or maybe they're all at the café? It was busy in there—”

  “Phil,” Dan pressed, sounding suspicious. “What time was our flight?”

  “Four forty-five?” The black-haired man’s voice edged with confusion. Dan raised an eyebrow.

  “This says five forty-five, not four.” Dan passed Phil back his ticket. “How on earth did you manage to mix that up?”

  “Oh, shit.” Phil’s eyes immediately filled with panic, accidentally cursing as he double checked. “Sorry, I must have read it wrong, I don't know how—”

  “It's fine,” Dan sighed, but sympathized. He likely would have done the same thing. “You're lucky that this airport has a shopping centre, I guess.”

  “You're quick to blast money,” Phil snickered, the distress quickly washing out of his gaze. Dan knew how to cheer him up, that was for sure.

  “Shut up.” Dan turned away from the terminal entrance, and beckoned for Phil to follow, as they headed down the hall. It was far from what could be considered a travel disaster, and quite like the both of them to mix something up in the rush of leaving the country. “Glad we’ll have a break from airports after this,” he continued as they strolled down the halls of the high-ceilinged building. “No more departure mix-ups, for a few months, at least.”

  Dan and Phil weren't great at travelling, surprisingly, but that was due to the fact that neither of them were good at planning things ahead of time. Many of their trips were spontaneous and came out of the blue, and even with all the practice they’d had booking flights or hotels, they often got caught up with new troubles every outing.

  “At least we’re finally early,” Phil chimed in, recalling the many times they’d had to sprint across airports to not miss their flights. “You could make a video out of this,”

   Dan snorted, his laugh caught off guard. That phrase was one of their many inside jokes, originated from Phil saying the danisnotonfire channel was dead, followed by listing off things that were too dumb to actually make a video about and giving them a dramatic title.

  “Yes, the title will be Stuck In Airport For 4 Hours?”

  Phil, then nodded. “I sense that it’ll be the twelfth video on trending.”

  Two hours later, they had taken off and were on their way home. Phil was asleep, and Dan was on his phone, headphones on with familiar music. The plane was rather quiet and peaceful, mostly packed with older business workers and a few tourists. He felt quite young compared to the group around him at the time.

  It was peaceful, until a strong thrust threw the plane forward. About half of the passengers, assumably the ones without their seatbelt buckled, hit their heads against the seat in front of them. Dan was one of those people, as he sat up after the hit of the powerful force in a daze. Most of the sleeping passengers woke up, excluding Phil, who was still dozing off.

  Everyone gave each other a nervous glance, silently admitting that it was a rather aggressive slam. After a moment, the seatbelt light flicked on, and the pilot spoke through the overhead stereo, addressing that they'd just hit a bird, but it would be okay and wouldn't slow down the ride.

  Dan was a bit horrified by this, and wished Phil was awake so he didn't have to feel slightly alone. Speaking of Phil, how had he managed to sleep through that impact? He knew his friend was a deep sleeper, but the most he'd ever slept through was during a very windy London storm years ago where there was a fire in the apartment below them and they were meant to evacuate. He’d nearly forgotten to wake Phil up to leave. Though how he managed to not hear the blaring alarm would forever be a mystery to his roommate.

  Dan sighed. He remembered the first night they spent together, which was basically an all-nighter, laughing and talking until four in the morning. It was one of their favourite memories together, so many years ago. They'd first met in a funny way. Way back in early 2009, Dan was a big fan of Phil’s youtube channel, and had frequently sent the older boy some attention-seeking tweets. Phil tweeted him back about once, not really interested. It wasn't until the summer of that year, they both happened to be on a trip to Sweden and bumped into each other. Dan was obviously, starstruck, which Phil found kind of endearing in person.

  Phil was on a family trip and got lost from his tour group, so had asked Dan, an emo-haired stranger, for directions. Dan realized it was the one and only AmazingPhil he was with, and Dan had no idea where he was either. So, Dan just pulled up a map on his phone and started talking. They'd never forget how awkwardly he’d rambled on when he met Phil as a fan, as he’d gushed to his online hero about his aspirations to be a youtuber for a solid three minutes until Phil chuckled and asked for his twitter so they could chat more.

  It went from there, in a way. They talked on twitter for a while, got to become internet friends. Phil started tagging Dan in funny cat pictures. That was the true symbol of friendship back then. Then it was Skype calls. Over-the-phone, getting used to each other's voices, growing closer. Then video chats that went from awkward to staying awake until two in the morning, talking softly about everything and nothing. And finally, they saw each other for the first time in half a year. Dan got to hug and hold Phil as a person for the first time. It was nice. They spent that weekend together, barely sleeping, and being so happy. Deep down, in a young love kind of way.

  But Dan, ten years later, wouldn't tell himself that. Yes, he loved Phil, and was sure Phil loved him too, but not in the gushy overly-romantic way. Not in any romantic way, perhaps. In a generally appreciative way. A home-sweet-home kind of way. Because they made each other feel at home.

  2.

  Phil collapsed onto his bed, before even turning on any lights in the house. He was grateful to be home in their cozy old house after a week in America at various parties and events.

  Their house was filled to the brim with memories and trinkets they'd accumulated over those ten years together, like rose gold awards and anime plushies. Phil was definitely a useless but quirky souvenir kind of guy, so most of their shelf space was just cute figurines and framed travel pictures. Dan was more of a collect it for the aesthetic hoarder, so his things were mostly pretty sea shells or foreign paintings on the walls.

  Luckily, they'd bought a pretty big house just outside of the Brighton town. It looked cute and faded blue on the outside, and was fully renovated and roomy inside. Dan and Phil were literally rich, but didn't intend on making it seem so, besides their house and the expensive clothes Dan bought, so that their fans could acknowledge that, and any new viewers didn't feel like they were watching princesses that only made videos for the money.

   The tall brunette dropped his suitcase on his bedroom floor, flicked on a few lights, and filled the kettle. “Want coffee?” He called out, pulling out some cups.

  Phil called back a cheery, “yes please,” So, choosing between their endless collection of mugs, Dan picked out his own with a photo of his family's old dog, Colin, printed on it, along with an adventure time mug for Phil.

  Phil was still on his bed when Dan brought in his coffee. It was nearing one in the morning, but they'd agreed that they wanted to stay up for a bit longer, since the jet lag had them up anyway.

  Dan started scrolling through the assortment of photos he'd taken on their trip, mostly pictures of nice palm trees or selfies with other youtubers. He stopped at one, which was an appealing picture of Phil in the sunlight. His pale tone glowed in the rays and his sunglasses made it look ironic. He showed the picture to Phil.

  “Reaction photo?” He queried, smiling. Phil gave him a look, confused, but amused. The picture of Phil was spontaneous and he wasn't looking directly at the camera, more of a distant glance. His expression asked what feeling this picture was supposed to convey. Dan shrugged in response. “Uh, like if you're basking in all your glory? Or like, uh…” He broke off, losing his thought.

  “Man, I thought you were the one with artistic dedication and, like, seven years of photography experience.” Phil chuckled. “This is obviously instagram worthy. Almost icon perfect. Think about everyone who'll change their icons to this, Daniel.”

  “Fine,” Dan gave in. “You post it, then, if it's so good.” He sent the picture to Phil, and noticed he was looking towards the shelf, glancing through the large assortment of things they owned.

  “I think the weird surfboard thing could go there,” Phil pointed towards the bottom shelf. Dan shook his head.

  “Nah, that's a true treasure.” He gestured towards the top two spots. “I've never seen anything as great as an antique with a turtle riding a surfboard. Weird isn’t the word I’d use to describe it. It’s… iconic.”

  “Yeah,” Phil teased him. “That's why you spent twenty bucks on it, right?”

  “Obviously,” Dan sipped his drink. “It was one of a kind, I couldn't miss that opportunity.”

  Phil grinned. This was one of the things he appreciated most about his best friend, the fake quarrels and rallying. At the end of the day, Dan didn't really mean it when he screamed “Fuck you, Phil Lester!” across the house because Phil had finished the cereal. It made their friendship stronger, being able to make fun of each other without actually shattering the other one’s feelings. They'd gotten the “compliment” that they seemed like an old married couple a few times now, and they would admit, they were starting to see where they were coming from.

  He sighed, grateful. Their home was peaceful, and captured like a moment in time they'd remember forever. The black walls of the lounge, framed art and photos scattered around. Some they'd had since 2011, some they'd just gotten from fans and thought it deserved a place. The velvet sofa that had replaced the iconic sofa crease a year before, because keeping a couch that was slowly ruining your back for 7 years wasn't quite necessary. The window that looked out towards a neighbourhood, and the North Sea in the distance. The roomy kitchen, that had a collection of polaroid photos along the fridge, and the cupboard that was full of their giant collection of mugs. Or Dan’s messy, but messily neat room, where he kept his solid black and white aesthetic strong. Phil’s colourful room, full of the most random items that he could never bring himself to throw away.

  Above all, the house, and everything inside, was home. The home they'd had together for years. Though they were new to the Brighton house, living alongside each other for nearly a decade was home. They were simply so cozy with each other, more than their fans could know. They had a million inside jokes and knew each other so very well, which was expected when you spent a solid seventy-five percent of your life together, in fact, they literally hadn't been apart for more than two weeks since 2009. The most they spent not home was a week with their separate families for Christmas each year. Otherwise, they went on nearly all of their trips together, went shopping together, went to events together. In fact, even during events like conventions, they rarely even separated. They were a catch for each other in awkward situations with people, which made the whole crowded experience a bit easier.

  So, when they really thought about it, Dan and Phil themselves were home to each other. It didn't matter if they were across the world from their house, they were at home as long as they were together.

  Phil felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, as he strolled down a familiar street, carrying a plastic bag. The sky above him was a soft blue, but in the distance, darker clouds were caving in. He checked his phone and saw that Dan had messaged him.

  Dani Snot On Fire

ur my knight in shining armor

  Phil couldn't help but smile a bit. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and Dan had pestered him into walking down the street to buy some almond milk; Dan often had phases where he decided to go vegan for a month or so, and it was one of those months. Phil wanted to go for a walk anyway, thinking there would be a nice sunset, but it looked like it would rain. Phil sent back a reply.

  I’m wearing pyjama pants. Also if it rains you're dead to me

  Dani Snot On Fire

:”)

  Phil continued his stroll, lost into thought. It was funny when he thought about it, their lives had some sort of filter online. He knew everyone had some kind of persona, but things like running out to get your roommate almond milk was one of the things they could share if they wanted, but wouldn’t. Their audience got a very small fraction of their lives.

  They used to think they were as open as they could be, but they’d see random comments from people who actually thought they hated each other when Dan often swore at Phil. Even though those comments were uncommon, their true audience didn’t know that much about them either, especially not Dan, as he wasn’t as avid about videos. Though, Dan liked interacting with his fans on twitter. But they only vlogged trips when something exciting was happening, so being active while at home was a bit unlikely.

  They learned that it was okay, because most people didn’t share everything with a huge audience, but in comparison to their youtuber peers, Dan and Phil seemed quite mysterious and closed off.

  Suddenly Phil had stopped in his tracks in the middle of his thoughts, catching a sound in an alleyway between two small shops. His mind guided him to fearlessly walk down it, as he was swallowed by the shadows. The sound was rather muffled, so it was shocking that he even caught it, and his mind should have assumed it was a mouse and nothing worth following. Nevertheless, a nagging feeling of curiosity led him to instinctively walk further towards the sound.

  However,  what he saw was certainly worth finding.

  Phil found the source of the muffled squeak in a dumpster. There was definitely something alive and stirring in it. Somehow he remained calm, but his hands were shaking.

  He cautiously opened the lid of the dumpster and peered inside, and was immediately struck with an anxious pain. After a sharp intake of breath, his heart stopped for a second and immediately began throbbing, because in the dumpster was a soft-looking mother dog nestling three puppies, a number of bloodstains scattered around her. It was clear they were newborn puppies. The mother barely glanced up when Phil opened the lid, letting some light hit them.

  Phil immediately reached for his phone, instinctively calling Dan. He felt his chest hollow as Dan picked up.

  “I just found,” Phil stammered into the phone. “I-in a dumpster, a dog and t-three puppies. The puppies are squirming. I don’t know if the mum’s doing o-okay.”

  Dan barely paused. “Okay, Phil. Deep breath. I’ll text you the animal control number. Where are you? I’ll come, okay? Just call the number.”

  “A-alright,” Phil hung up and took a deep breath, calling up the animal control and giving them the situation and location. Dan arrived first, and helped Phil calm down, as the vets came in and carefully brought the dogs to their emergency care.

  “Thank you, sir.” One of the vets stopped to speak to Phil. “You and your husband did a great work calling us. We’ll bring them down to clinic, but we don’t think the mum will survive. She’s lost a lot of blood,”

  “Will the puppies be okay?” Phil echoed, still shaking slightly. He couldn’t be bothered to correct the vet about Dan being his friend, either.

  “They should survive under proper care. And some fostering, soon enough. Look into it, you’ve saved lives today.” The vet turned towards the van, and started driving off,

  “You okay?” Dan asked, gently prodding Phil’s shoulder.

  Phil let out a long sigh, passing the plastic bag with almond milk in it to Dan.

  “Oh,” Dan replied coyly. “Thanks.”

  “Dan,” Phil stared off into the distance. “Let’s go home now, but I think we need a dog.”

  3.

  Phil had visited the puppies every day during the week, with teary eyes and admiration. There were three male puppies, three strong troopers who'd lost their mother. The vet examined them as australian shepherd and bernese mountain dog mixes, and looked like little dwarf rabbits as the newborns they were.

  So, when Phil was told the puppies were ready to be fostered for a while, he begged Dan for days. Dan’s only problem with getting one of the puppies was that they had barely any idea of how to care for them, and they'd have to stay home for however long it needed. However, Phil had researched newborn puppy care extensively already. “Eight weeks, Dan, just eight weeks!” He'd repeated that phrase so many times it could’ve been on his tombstone. He did promise on his life that he'd take full responsibility to feed the puppy every few hours, potty train it, and become a dog mom.

  Dan gave in after the eighth day of Phil begging. With the okay of his housemate, Phil was out the door within minutes to buy everything he'd need; dog milk substitute, bottles, a gated fence, some comforters, a potty-training pad, about a million other things that were suggested for fostering.

  He didn't hesitate to set everything up, then excitedly took Dan and went to the vet. There were three puppies, and it took Phil a solid half an hour to choose between them, since Dan had already given him a flat out no as to taking in all three.

  Phil wasn’t just fostering because they were cute anymore. With all the research he’d done, he’d learned that orphaned puppies just needed a whole lot of love. He couldn’t sleep knowing these puppies would have probably died if he hadn’t found them in the dumpster. Also, the vets said it was probably a person abusing their mother that got them there, so he knew he needed to take one in to make up for the terrible human who left them alone.

  The puppies were very squirmy, and had soft eyes that they weren’t great at keeping open. Phil got to hold each one, and the look on his face could outshine the sun. What made it funnier, but also more heartfelt, were the tears of joy rolling down his face. Dan took a million pictures, absolutely blessed by the whole scene.

  Phil was sold when the final puppy, who was white with gray colour points coming in, reached over his tiny head and licked Dan’s hand. When Phil looked up from the puppy, Dan’s face was full of tears too.

  “It’s him, isn’t it?” Phil had whispered. Dan nodded in reply, ever so softly.

  That was the moment Astro became a part of their lives.

The name choice was easy, as the puppy gave off a starry vibe, and both boys were obsessed with space. Caring for Astro wasn’t as hard as Dan thought it would be, as the tiny creature mostly just slept and got bottle fed. Which meant Phil had to give up a few extra hours of sleep in order to make sure Astro was being fed properly, but it was worth it. Astro was already showing signs of getting stronger within a few days.

  It made their home even more gentle, and somehow Phil had already fallen asleep on their couch with Astro snoozing on his chest on three different occasions, which was just the perfect image of peace.

  Soon enough, after they’d told their fans about the foster pup and they begged for as many pictures as possible, they took Astro out for a little walk— or more like a carry, as the puppy wasn’t quite strong enough to walk on a leash yet. It was a lovely scene, as sunlight peeked through the trees at their favourite park, and Phil didn’t look away from his puppy’s curious eyes for a second.

  “Here, buddy,” Phil bent down to the grass and gently let Astro stumble out of his arms. The weary puppy curiously sniffed the air before deciding to hop out of Phil’s grasp, plopping onto the ground, and his tiny, puzzled eyes gazed out to the world with the twitch of his ear.

  Phil gave Dan and enthusiastic thumbs up. “He loves it! Come see!”

  Dan cautiously kneeled down beside Phil, lightly letting Astro sniff his hand. The puppy wobbled into the other direction slowly, ears rising, and the sunlight perfectly hitting off of his soft fur. Dan reached for his phone to photograph what seemed so ideally heartwarming. However, he stopped, and let it be, simply glancing between Phil and Astro and appreciating the moment for what it was. It must have looked a bit silly, being two six foot tall men on the grass, gushing over a tiny creature that wasn’t doing much but looking around and tripping. Simple, silly, but a moment they’d surely remember forever.

“You’re positive?”

  “I’m always up anyway, Phil,” Dan got a glass of water before flickering off the kitchen light. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Okay…” Phil hesitated. “Run through what you’re meant to do again?”

  “Place the bottle in hot water for about a minute, make sure Astro’s on his tummy and not too squirmy, pinch the bottle nip slightly at the sides, and wait for him to swallow it. Then burp him by gently patting his sides and back.” Dan recited the steps perfectly. Phil opened his mouth to protest, but Dan cut him off. “And if he clearly doesn’t want it, let him go back to sleep.”

  “Okay.” Phil grinned lightly, giving in. “I’m just a nervous parent, aren’t I? I’m sure you’ll do great.”

  Dan grabbed his blanket off his bed and a pillow, as Phil checked on his puppy for at least the twentieth time that night. Dan was noticing that the new pet owner was starting to live off coffee, so he forced Phil to let him stay up to feed Astro at three.

  “I’ll set up camp, you get to bed.” Dan joked, as he placed his duvet on the floor of Phil’s room, next to Astro’s sleeping crate.

  Phil groaned. “You’re such a handful.”

  “Not your handful anymore, not your problem.” Dan replied, as he crawled into his makeshift bed. “Sleep, you rat.”

  Phil was still complaining, under his covers. “You’re the rat. Why don’t you get off the floor, it’s pathetic and makes me feel guilty for letting you do this. There’s plenty of space up here.”

  Dan stopped for a heartbeat. “Wait, are you kidding or not? I really can’t tell.”

  Phil scoffed. “I’ll change my mind if you don’t hurry up.”

  Dan rose up, and carried his duvet to Phil’s bed. “I’ll take the offer, but keep your eyes off my phone.” He re-thought his sentence for a moment. “Not that I’ll be doing anything strange, you just need your beauty sleep, real bad.”

  Phil turned away from his roommate. “Fine. Don’t kill my dog. Good night.”

  Dan turned the other way, pulling himself under his blanket. “Night.”

  It was nice, the two rarely shared beds anymore. They used to every few weeks back when they didn’t live together and Dan came down to visit, but once they moved into their first apartment, the novelty wore off.

  So when they did end up sharing a sleeping place, it felt like a tribute to the early days of their friendship. However, those early nights usually consisted of them staying up until it was near sunrise— now one of them was off to bed at twelve, and the other staying up for their puppy. Their puppy. Phil had titled himself Astro’s loving mother, but Dan had become just as caring for the puppy and in love.

  Dan aimlessly scrolled through tumblr until one, and grew bored and sleepy. He could have just gone to sleep and set an alarm to wake him up at three, but he was scared that an alarm would wake up Phil. He fought the drowsiness with some games on his phone he usually only played on plane rides. Time flew.

  He took a break from his screen to take in his surroundings. Phil had turned towards Dan in his sleep, and was snoring quietly, and a small fake candle flickered in the corner, illuminating a small area as the rest of the room pooled into darkness, besides a little red light indicating that Astro’s heating pad was on.

  Dan checked the time, and discreetly got up to prepare Astro’s bottle. It was peaceful, sat on the ground by the candlelight, slowly feeding the pup. It was surreal, but in the best way.

  One full night of sleep must have cleared Phil right up, because Dan woke up to the smell of pancakes through the house the next morning. Confused, Dan had crawled out of Phil’s bed and met his roommate wide awake, flipping pancakes.

  “Go-o-od morning!” Phil sung out, handing Dan a plate. “I really used those extra hours.”

  “I can see that.” Dan chuckled, turning to the table. Astro was squeaking in the distance, trying to escape from his nesting crate in the lounge, sunlight flooded the room, and Phil was humming a familiar tune. Dan hadn’t seen a morning like this in a while, especially not one where Phil wasn’t miserably eating instant oatmeal.

  “I really wouldn’t mind feeding Astro at night more often, if it means I can get a good breakfast out of you.” Dan took a bite of his pancake. “Cause, man, this is good to wake up to.”

  “Really?” Phil sounded grateful. “Hallelujah. He’s only five nights away from being six weeks, then he won’t need to be fed overnight anymore.”

  “Alright, I’ll be on the night shift until then.” Dan remarked, smiling as Phil sat across from him at the table with his own plate of pancakes. “You’ve got a deal.”

  So, for the following five days, Dan slept in Phil’s bed and stayed up to feed Astro. Phil started staying up a bit later, too, just talking with his best friend. Those moments, wrapped up in their bedsheets, staring into each other’s eyes, and giggling at one in the morning, truly sent a flood of nostalgia regarding their first home together. It was comfy, tying their days together by the ends.

  The fifth night was peaceful. Dan left his duvet on the floor for the time, and shared Phil’s covers instead. Then they simply faced each other and talked. They would jokingly call it a chit chat in an annoying high pitched voice, like they were middle-aged moms, but made it a safe, homey place to spill whatever they wanted.

  It was nearing one, when Phil would usually fall asleep, and he looked tired, but kept glancing to Dan and chuckling.

  “What?” Dan prodded. Phil kept giggling, with a smile stuck on his face due to Dan’s cluelessness, and inched closer. Dan was still lost at what was so funny.

  Phil rested his eyes. “Nothing, it’s not that funny,” he paused. “It’s just… really too much like you’re eighteen all over again, isn’t it?”

  Dan stopped to think. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

  The sixth night? Dan still ended up in his best friend’s bedsheets, even though Astro didn’t need a feeding. However, it went unquestioned, and they ended up nearly entwined with each other during their chit chat.

  “I can’t wait ‘til Astro’s big enough to sleep out of the crate.” Dan whispered. “It’ll make things… whole, I think?”

  Phil seemed to be caught off guard. “I don’t think we’re keeping him that long, Dan. He does go up for adoption in two weeks.”

  “Shit, how’d I forget we’re just fostering?”

  Phil shrugged. “I know where you’re coming from. I was kind of forgetting that we’re like, uh, world travellers, usually. Really does feel like ‘09.”

  “Yeah?” Dan replied, pulling himself closer, and feeling his cheeks grow warm.

  “Yeah.” Phil shifted until their foreheads and arms were brushing. “Good night.”

  Dan sobbed like a baby the night before Astro was to be adopted. It was crazy that he’d gone from never thinking he and Phil could raise a puppy, to being a pro dog parent in a matter of weeks. They knew from the start that they wouldn’t be keeping him forever, but they’d gotten so used to caring for the puppy that it was surreal to think of their lives without him.

  They let Astro sleep between them that night, and it only took Dan one glance at the puppy to start crying. He laughed through the tears, aware it was silly, but looked up to Phil who was tearing up, too.

  “D-don’t look at me,” Dan sniffed between words. “I’m an ugly crier!”

  Astro didn’t care about the situation at all, and just went straight to sleep, which made both boys laugh even harder.

  “Look, look,” Phil took a deep breath and smiled lightly. “Once we’re old, and done travelling for the most part, we can get our own, proper dog.”

  Dan wiped away his tears, rolling his eyes but a grin stuck on his face. “That’s a long time.”

  “Wanna hear long time? 2009 was a decade ago.”

  Dan choked, shaking his head. Phil had said that phrase many times already that year, mostly to prove a point that nothing is as long as it seems sometimes. Although, he wasn’t wrong.

  4.

  As autumn crept in, Dan and Phil were ecstatic to travel again. It was there first trip since they’d taken in Astro, and the puppy had been adopted by a nice elderly couple who only lived a few minutes away and promised to supply pictures of Astro as he grew. Now, they hadn’t properly travelled in over two months, and must have forgotten how to, because it took them three hours to pack.

  Thankfully there were no incidents having to do with nearly missing the flight like there usually was, and the flight went smoothly. Besides Dan almost stealing someone else’s suitcase when they’d landed, quickly remembering the importance of checking for the Studio Ghibli-themed travel tag Phil bought him, they didn’t run into any other troubles.

  Until the slight awakening caused by a note left behind by their hotel room’s maid when they arrived, reading, “We hope you enjoy your stay, Lesters.”

“They probably just think we’re brothers,” Phil dismissed it and plopped down on the bed, stretching on his back. “Plenty of people do.”

  “Eh, not sure. People are gay, Susan.” Dan chuckled, as he sat down as well. Alongside Phil. On the bed they were casually sharing.

  After Astro left, they were just too used to the other’s company to give it up, though they never really acknowledged it, but the hotel room did have a whole other bed that went untouched, so it felt noticeable. Though, they were far past what would be awkward.

  Phil sat up, stopped himself from objecting, and just gave in, sarcasm edging his tone. “You’re totally right. Everyone thinks we’re married.”

They spent most of their first day in Berlin at an art festival Dan had been invited to, where he grew incredibly socially drained rather quickly, and Phil simply nodded along to the photography talk that he didn’t fully understand.

  They headed down to a pier as the sun was setting over a calm lake, as they silently took in the scene, side by side.

  Dan glanced over his shoulder, cheeks warm. “Did you miss this?”

  Phil hesitated. “Miss what?”

  “Uh, new places?” Dan shrugged. “New things?”

  Phil smiled. “Yeah, guess so. But while we were at home, with Astro, it was a nice reminder that… old things are pretty great too.”

  That made Dan stop to think, falling back into silence. Before Astro, both of them were more focused on trying new things and experiences to come, but spending such slow-paced time together rekindled their nostalgic sides.

  “Y-yeah.” He checked the time, the evenings autumn breeze sweeping past. “Want a surprise?”

  Phil raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

  “A surprise, idiot,” Dan gave Phil a light shove on the shoulder. “Still got some energy left?”

  “I do, I’m shocked that you still do.” Phil trailed behind Dan as the brunette turned back towards the hotel, now drawn in by curiosity. “I’m not exactly kidding, are you sure you’ve got the energy—”

  “I’m not the old man here, and it’s not a party, I’ll live.” Dan grinned softly. “Come on, let’s go get your jacket.”

  The boys headed down the streets of Berlin, Phil still unaware of his surprise as they strolled together underneath the yellow-tinted streetlights, mumbling and giggling. Dan suddenly came to a stop in the middle of a bridge, and peered out to the dark water. Phil suspiciously joined him, leaning against the edge, and stayed quiet.

  Right when Phil decided to ask what was going on, a single firework flew up and popped over the water, bright blue and green sparks falling in the distance. With that, a chain reaction of lights began and colours filled the sky, as each firework reflected off the water. Phil was hooked in, and even Dan, who usually didn’t care too much for fireworks, was astounded; he didn’t believe the flyer he was given at first, that stated these would be the best fireworks in the city, but he couldn’t see it getting any bigger than what it was now.

  Dan couldn’t help but stare at his best friend, who was completely mesmerized by the show, his blue eyes wide and a smile smacked on his face that practically overflowed with joy. It made Dan beam with pride, too.

  The sun was rising over the water when Phil hazily woke up, warmth filling his entire body, and he immediately knew he didn’t want to get out of bed. However, his eyes blinked open a few times and he suddenly became aware of his situation— he was completely intertwined with and cuddling Dan.

  Nothing felt wrong, or off, but it was new.

  Flashbacks to the night before played in Phil’s head. They’d walked back from the fireworks, cold and tired, but when they got back to the hotel room the people above them were loudly playing upbeat latino music, it was too great not to dance to. So they danced, laughing like they’d never broken a grin in their lives, and hands together with a terrible tango performance. Eventually, the music stopped suddenly, likely because of a complaint, and they collapsed on the bed, realizing they were exhausted, but still started to laugh every time they even glanced at each other.

  Phil was overwhelmed, a flush of emotions filling him as he began to overthink the context, but he pushed it all away almost immediately. It was still early, too early. He started to fall back asleep, arms still clinging onto Dan.

  /

  “Never thought I’d connect so deeply with some teen girl quote that’s probably a good, what, seven years old?”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Home is where the wifi connects automatically.” Dan tossed his bags on the ground of Phil’s room, and slid out his phone, indulging himself with what he’d missed on twitter. Phil knew he’d be there for a while.

  Their weekend in Berlin was extended when their flight home was cancelled, and they decided why not just stay in Germany for a few more days? Nothing was stopping them, so they did exactly that. With their extra three days, they spent some more relaxing time in the quiet city, absorbing the vintage aesthetic. They even went for a ride on what Dan called the most extra-looking boat ride, a candlelit gondola ride going through town.

  The extra few days gave them a break from social media though, not exactly by choice, but by the fact Dan was too scared to ask someone working at the hotel what the free wifi’s password was. It felt like a good vacation, a breath of fresh air, but they were glad to be home.

  Phil shuffled Dan’s things neatly together, and placed his own suitcase down. That was new, Dan leaving his belongings in Phil’s room, but it didn’t make such a difference.

  “I can move those if you need!” Dan called from his spot on the hallway floor.

  “No, it’s okay!” Initially, Phil’s thoughts were focused on the fact that they were just sharing a room by now, but he shoved it away and made the best of it. “You’re just a hot mess.”

  Dan smirked, not looking up from his phone. “I just need the motivation to clean up my act.”

  Phil raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. I’m gonna go edit my video upstairs.”

  While Phil was an hour into editing, Dan crawled up the stairs, a tired expression stuck on his face as he plopped on the sofa and wrapped himself with his giant brown blanket. Phil stared at him in disbelief. “You literally slept in until ten, slept the whole flight, and slept on the train home, how are you still tired?”

  Dan flipped him off.

  Phil turned back to his screen. “Well, if you’re up here, help me out. I downloaded some of my shots of your drone, how long do you think the clips should be all together?”

   Dan pulled the blanket over his head and fell back. “Eh, don’t go over twenty seconds. Slow some of them down though.” His reply was muffled. “And try to find a new song to put over it.”

Phil snickered. “You look like a rat that got hit by a truck right now.”

  “Wow, thanks so much.” Dan’s voice was flat with sarcasm. “That’s the look I was aiming for.”

  Within a few more hours, Phil managed to finish putting together his Berlin vlog and a somewhat clickbaity thumbnail for it. Usually he would’ve let Dan review it first, but his roommate was fast asleep on the couch, so he hit the upload button and turned away from the desk. He figured Dan would be starving when he woke up, so he ordered some chinese delivery and started unpacking some of his things. However, with a lot on his mind, he was disassociating the entire time.

  He didn’t really expect to end up sharing a room, but he should have seen it coming, after all the nights Dan had insisted on sleeping in Phil’s bed. Though deep down he appreciated having extra company— not that they didn’t spend every waking hour together already.

  When the food arrived, he brought it up to Dan, who had woken up and was sat at the computer, looking distraught. Phil sat beside him, curious.

  “Uh, you missed something while you were editing.” Dan was switching between the video Phil had uploaded and the comment section, pointing to the fourth top comment.

  ‘Go to 5:27, look at the beds. The one Phil “just got out of” is completely still made while Dan’s definitely seems like someone else slept there with him. See the crease in the pillow? Hmm..’

  Phil groaned, falling back onto the couch. “I think they call those guys demon phannies or some shit. Sorry. Really.” Dan took a second. The comment only had a hundred likes, surely others would wash it out once the video was out for longer. It wasn't such a big deal.

  “Let me look over the video next time, maybe.” He cracked a small smile. “The food smells incredible, let's eat.”

  5.

  It was a gloomy afternoon, rain pouring down against the windows, as Phil was working on renewing his passport, sipping a cup of tea, and hoping the services would process his application before the film festival in Canada in a month’s time. The rain was getting him down, just a bit. He was aching for everything in the near future, like Halloween, some planned trips, the return of pumpkin spice lattes. But he was stuck filling out boring applications in rainy ol’ England.

  Dan was out on a business meeting for a film company, which Phil thought sounded boring, but at least he was out of the house. Phil was on his own. He pulled out his phone, heading to twitter, boredom growing on him as he scrolled through his mentions. One caught his eye. Someone had quote tweeted him a link to someone in London who'd rescued some rabbits from cruelty and needed foster homes for them, and in an instant, Phil felt like this was his job.

  He replied to the tweet with a quick “omg” to bookmark it, and quickly his followers told him he needed to foster one. He knew he'd have to ask Dan, but he looked through the rescuers account to make sure it was legit and safe, researching it. The rabbits were all rescued from testing in partnership with makeup company, so all of them were fixed and somewhat up to date with shots, but most of them were traumatized and had slight disabilities. Phil already found his favourite, a golden furred girl with clouded eyes that had most likely been sprayed by perfumes, leaving her partially blind, but she was beautiful. Her name was Honeydew.

  He texted Dan a bit of a keysmash that simply said “Dnan i want a fuKcin RABBIT” because he was so excited that he barely gripped onto his phone. Dan replied after a little while.

  Dani Snot On Fire

what

  Dani Snot On Fire

please wait until im home before you adopt another creature

  Dani Snot On Fire

im almost there

  Phil pulled up a bunch of tabs about fostering rabbits, Honeydew and how they were rescued, expecting to have to beg Dan for it again. Shockingly, Dan agreed right away.

  “As long as you know how to care for a bunny, get a bunny.” The brunette pushed back his wet curls, tumbling onto the bed. “We’re home for a while ‘til you get your passport anyway. It would make you happy.” Phil grabbed his laptop, rushing back to Dan and contacting the rescuer about fostering the honey-colored rabbit. He fell back, landing on Dan’s chest unintentionally, but didn't budge.

  “You're literally the best.” Phil trilled, his voice vibrating against Dan’s warm chest. A simple phrase that filled Dan up with emotion, causing him to tear up and laugh, leaving Phil worried he’d done something wrong.

  “Are you okay?” Phil stammered, rising from his spot quickly. “What's so funny, did someth—”

  “It's fine. I guess I needed to hear some positivity today,  just…” Dan sighed. It had been a long day. “Want you to know, you're actually the best.”

  /

  As if Phil couldn’t be anymore sure that Honeydew was certainly the rabbit he wanted, the day he got to pick her up, she ran right into his arms. It was like the perfect movie scene to Phil, but to the other people in the room, it was rather anticlimactic; the half blind bunny sort of just sniffed the strawberry in Phil’s hand and tumbled onto his lap.

  But Phil had looked up to Dan with the softest smile, wearily nodding, and they knew they were both sold.

  Phil was over the moon about having a pet again, instantly falling into the trap of ordering twenty different rabbit outfits on amazon within two hours of bringing Honeydew home. “At least she’ll be in fashion,” he’d insisted. “A different outfit for nearly every day she’s here.”

  “You’re never going to make that money back, Phil.”

  The rabbit owner was set out to prove Dan wrong, which happened rather dramatically. When his two-day shipment came in, Phil decided to make a Rabbitwalk, unboxing and showcasing the various outfits on Honeydew. He was quite happy with the video, easily one of his favourites, but what was shocking yet hilarious was the fact that the video went up to number six on trending within twenty-four hours, racking up two and a half million views in the timeframe. So, it was safe to say Phil got his money’s worth.

  Phil didn’t stop there, either. He took it upon himself to buy a leash and harness for his fuzzy daughter and took her for a walk on the seaside. Dan was reluctant to join at first, but figured it was worth it if it made his best friend happy. Which was certainly the outcome; Phil had a look of pride stuck on his face the entire walk, as children came up to ask to pet the little creature and a few teens took pictures from afar. Dan took a nice picture, too, of Honeydew’s silhouette and Phil’s shadow overlapping, with the setting sun over the water in the background, and as he looked up back to them, he found himself smiling.

  As they walked back home in silence, except for Phil whistling and cooing to Honeydew in his arms, Dan felt safe and warm and complete. It was a mystery to him why having an animal made him so wholesome suddenly, but it was working, and working well. He wondered if it was because… He glanced to Phil, who looked so gentle and tranquil holding the sun-dipped bunny, and his heart soared.

  He wondered if it was because it felt like he had a family with Phil.

  /

  “Another charger?”

  Dan held up a shredded phone cord that was covered with bite marks, eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Another charger.”

  They’d kind of just let Honeydew become their new dog, giving her free roam of the house, but as Dan and Phil were both awfully forgetful, they’d accidentally left cords where she could reach them and nip at them.

  It was a quiet night. They’d been binging a cheesy Netflix drama for a few hours and eating some microwaved popcorn in the lounge while Dan actually cuddled Honeydew for a little while before she got sick of it and hopped off to chew up Dan’s phone charger.

  “Sorry,” Phil picked her up off the ground and lifted her into his arms. “Tired?”

  “You can go. I’ll come soon.” He searched for an excuse. “Uh, wouldn’t want you to be bothered by my laptop.”

  Phil looked like he almost didn’t believe it, but he simply nodded and gently put Honeydew down in her enclosure. He flicked off the hallway light. “Good night, Dan.”

  Dan didn’t pull out his laptop at all. He just laid back and let out a sigh, knowing what he was feeling, as much as he wanted to repress it, he was in love with his best friend.

  He ached to express to someone how he felt, but anxiety bubbled in his chest, and he’d never be able to tell Phil that he had some kind of feelings for him. Dan couldn’t even root out the feelings yet, whether they were romantic or just full of admiration, but it filled Dan up with butterflies everytime he looked at Phil nowadays. It was nice in the moment, but a heartache at times like these, where his anxiety caught control of him and he started to spiral into a cluster of catastrophic thoughts. What if somehow Phil found out or the fans found out and everyone left him because all he wanted to do was grow old and love his longest lasting friendship and— he stopped.

  He rid of the negative thoughts taking over and stood up, flicking off the last light as he shuffled his way into Phil’s room. The eldest looked surprised to see him so soon, but smiled.

  “Cold?”

  Dan’s heart filled with an assortment of emotions at once, as he shrugged. He knew that phrase meant they were going to cuddle and look like some dream couple while they were doing it and fall asleep in each other’s arms and— shit. Dan realized he was just kind of standing in the dark when Phil’s voice brought him back into reality.

  “You okay?” Phil’s soothing mumble filled Dan with peace. If it was okay, cuddling Phil simply platonically, it was worth it. So he nodded, quickly scrambling into the cozy bed, and let Phil wrap his arms around his waist, filling him with warmth. Phil nestled his face into Dan’s shoulder and brushed his leg up against the other’s, humming softly before whispering.

  “Good night, again.”

  Dan’s thoughts were still a cluster, but he managed to mumble out a soft “sleep well” as he was pressed against his best friend. It took a while for him to fall asleep, but having someone to cuddle with every night was it’s own dream come true.

  /

  Dan was sat at the breakfast bar, the morning two days before halloween, when the sky was a dull gray. Phil was on his phone in the lounge, Honeydew munching on strawberries in his lap, when Dan took his own phone and in a split second typed out three words and sent it to Phil; “phil i’m bi.”

  He heard the notification sound, but couldn’t dare to look at Phil’s face as he read the message. He didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t what he got.

  “Dan!” He whipped his head around to face his housemate, with wide eyes of delight. “You’re serious, right?”

  “Y-yeah, I guess.” He stuttered on his phrase. “I guess I should explain. I don’t know why I didn’t just tell you, you’re right there and all…”

  “Dan, I’m so fucking proud of you!”

  That made Dan freeze, Phil rarely ever even said shit, so him full on f-bombing was showing that his phrase was unfiltered and as true as it could get. So naturally, Dan started tearing up, which led to crying, which led to ugly sobbing. Phil got up and gave him a tight hug, quietly reassuring him with little coos and whispers in his ear. Dan hugged back even tighter. He’d never come out before, hell, he didn’t think he would ever end up being bi, but there he was, being fully accepted and praised by Phil.

  “I’m s-sorry,” Dan sniffed back his soppy nose, not letting go of Phil. “I would have just said it out loud, but I’ve been trying all w-week, and I couldn’t do it. Everytime I tried to bring it up I fucked up and I’m so sorry that I couldn't tell you cause you’re my best fucking friend in the whole world and I don’t deserve y-you at all and—”

“Hey, hey.” Phil cut him off, pulling him away so they could face each other, but gripped Dan’s arms. “You know I’ll be your best friend no matter what, we deserve each other, okay?”

  Dan’s eyes were wary, and his cheeks were wet from sobbing, as he struggled to hold back tears again. Phil saw it in those relieved brown eyes that all he needed was another hug. So he brought him in again, squeezing his weepy friend’s arms just enough to let Dan know he was there for him.

  Then Phil started humming again. Dan knew he had a habit of doing so, but it was so incredibly soothing, and Dan finally figured out the tune right at that moment. The tune he always murmured at the right times matched up to the children’s rhyme, you are my sunshine.

  6.

  The two spent Halloween night trick or treating with Louise and her kids in the moonlight. Phil was a knight, striking a confident pose with Honeydew dressed as a dragon in his arms in one of the pictures Dan took, whilst the younger man was a horse, and probably had the most embarrassing night of his life. At least Louise’s daughters, who had matching Princess Peach and Princess Daisy costumes on, seemed to love that they all had a fantasy theme going on.

  “I swear, if you post any pictures of me in that dumb costume—”

  “Sorry, love,” Louise giggled, showing the brunette that she’d already tweeted a photoset of Darcy and Dan posing with a number of jack-o-lanterns, captioned “princess peach and her loyal steed.” Dan cringed immensely.

  “You’re lucky those are, like, the cutest pictures ever. I’m still going to burn this costume, though.”

  The next day they had to give a sad goodbye to Honeydew as she was to be adopted. Phil only managed not to cry when he saw the pure joy on the eight-year-old daughter’s face when he gave her the shoebox full of rabbit costumes, and that made it worth it. He was glad to know that his rabbit would surely be in a good home.

  Dan’s thoughts were clouded, after the fact of accepting his sexuality, he had the weight of coming out on his shoulders. No one was asking him to tell everyone, but after only letting Louise and Phil know, he noticed they’d both said something similar.

  “I wish you’d told me sooner, I could’ve helped!”

  Deep down, he knew they were being sincere, and that they just wanted to comfort him while he was stressing over labels, but were too late. However, what Dan’s mind took from that was guilt for not telling the people he loved most earlier, and he couldn’t help the feeling.

  He knew he was going to visit his family soon, and deep down, he had the intentions of coming out, but it was so hard to bring it up. It made him queasy just thinking about it. All he could think about was the little homophobic remarks he faintly remembered his father making, even though they were years back. Time had passed, and there was a chance that his dad already learned to accept identities different from him, but it was still terrifying thinking of coming out.

  He couldn’t find the balance of guilt and fear. It was one or the other, and he wanted to get it over with, but he was so awful at talking about his feelings that it seemed impossible. He could talk to Phil, though, and he tried to explain what he had on his mind.

  “I mean, I can talk to you no bloody problem,” he traced his hand over the stripes on the bedsheets, sat up and avoiding Phil’s gaze as he continued, “but even with you it took me ages just to text you that I was bi, and you were just in the other room. So it’s gonna be a headache saying it out loud to both of my parents and my family and I don’t know how I’m gonna do it.”

  They fell silent, Dan letting out a deep sigh as the moonlight gleamed on his tired eyes. Phil knew him, and knew that his anxiety often took control of his mouth and mind. It took so much out of him just to ask for things sometimes, he’d have the words repeating in his head, pounding at all sides, but he wouldn’t be able to say it out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. It was likely that would happen the entire time he was with his family.

  After that night, Phil felt a little useless, so he threw some ideas into the air besides Dan using his words. “A cake? That just says ‘I like boys too’? I could make it.”

  “Eh,” Dan smiled weakly. “I’d have a lot of explaining to do after that. It would be kinda… out of character for me.”

  Phil pressed his hand to his face. He had an idea, one that started off as just a jokingly put concept, but they might’ve actually been able to pull it off.

  “We could… fake date?”

  Dan’s eyes flashed with confusion, followed by… relief? Phil couldn’t make out the expression on the younger man’s face, but he could tell Dan assumed it was just for laughs. He chuckled under his breath. “Phil—”

  “No, for real, it could work.” Phil tried to piece it together, words spilling out of his mouth without a filter. “You could… uh, break out the news easy that way, and click the point in right away without having to explain it all, and I’d be there to support you, so…”

  “In what world is that going to work?” Dan stretched his arms across the counter. He had to admit, the plan wasn’t entirely flawed, in fact, even fake dating Phil was a bonus to having to come out. Phil looked hopeful when they met eyes, because all he wanted was to make things easier for his best friend.

  Dan took a second, groaning and finishing with the smallest smirk he could manage, full of fondness. “Fuck it. What’s your plan?”

  /

  “We’re crazy.”

  The late autumn wind creeped in the air on a particular afternoon where Dan and Phil wound up holding hands on a homey doorstep. They were both bundled up in cozy jackets and had tired eyes when they opened the door.

  They were greeted by a dog with soft white fur, long legs, and the biggest snout Phil had ever seen. She sweetly sniffed the two men as they came inside, tail wagging. “Hello, Collie, pretty girl!” Dan’s voice pitched up as he gave the pup a gentle pat. “Look at you!”

  “Daniel, if you call Molly Colin junior one more time, I’ll start calling you Jonathan junior.” A short woman with curly brown hair falling just to her shoulders and an apron around her waist emerged from the kitchen, immediately pausing as her eyes went up from her son and Phil’s interlaced hands. A shimmer of shock was in her eyes, partially because Phil was in her house, but mostly due to the boys holding hands. Dan let go to give her a hug.

  “Good afternoon, Phil,” she gave Phil a light hug as well, though her phrase sounded more like a question than a statement, “wasn’t… expecting you. How was the train here?”

  Dan swept in. “News for you, mum.”

  “I presumed.” The surprise was wearing off, as she looked more sympathetic. “I’m happy for you, both of you, how long’s it been?”

  Dan was the one in awe now. It certainly wasn’t the first question he was expecting, so it caught him off guard. “Oh… uh, few months. Figured even though everyone already knows Phil, you’d appreciate me telling you. And… dad.”

  “Well, that’s one way to do it, innit?” She turned back to Phil, sharp on her heels. “I don’t even need to give you the whole talk, you’re the best Dan could’ve got. You like pork chops? I’m cooking them now.”

  “That sounds lovely, thank you, Jennifer.” Phil’s cheeks were warm, as he stifled a small laugh. Dan was wide-eyed as ever, so confused as to how that it was just… that easy.

  “Great, dear. Dan, why don’t you go see Colin? He’s asleep in his room. Dad’ll be home soon enough.”

  Dan turned to the hallway. “Y-yeah.”

  Phil gave him a little shove, as they hopped down a few stairs. “Easier than you thought, I’m guessing?”

  “What the fuck just happened.” Dan whispered as he entered a whole room just for the dogs, assorted squeaky toys in bins along with worn out stuffed animals on a big dog bed. Colin was asleep on the smaller dog bed, waking up to Dan petting his little head. “Normally she’ll ask me a million questions but she was just so… fine with it.”

  “You’re old enough that she probably trusts that you’re fine.” Phil bent down to the old dog and stroked his side. “Was this your room?”

  Dan pushed his curls back, nodding wearily.“Yeah, kinda. Right after I moved in with you they made it Adrian’s room, then when Adrian moved out, they made it Colin and Molly’s bedroom.”

  “Goals.”

  Dan snickered. “Shut up. Hopefully my dad trusts me too.” Colin’s tail wagged lightly as the brunette picked him up off the bad, placing the terrier in his lap. Dan’s mind was cleared for the first time all day, and it made him feel so much better. He was home, with the man who felt like home to him and his with his family’s embrace.

  “I hope so, too. Can we make a dog bedroom?”

  The corners of Dan’s mouth turned up quickly. “We don’t have any dogs, Phil.”

  “I know, I mean when we’re like, sixty, and have the shiba you always wanted plus a corgi-dachshund for me?” Phil was petting Colin’s soft fur now, too. “We can buy them so many dog toys, oh my god.”

  “Yeah? Sure, I guess.”

  The smell of the home-cooked dinner filled the house as they sat at the dining table patiently. Molly’s big head peeked over the edge with ease, tail wagging impatiently. Phil was already in love with the borzoi dog within half an hour of meeting her, so naturally, he was at her side. Even though he was focused on the pup, he was holding hands with Dan as well, and sensed him tense up when the front door opened. Dan’s father, John, came in through the kitchen, and had the same shocked face.

  “Welcome back, honey.” Jenn planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek when he put down his bag, as he nodded to Phil and their connected hands. It looked as if he’d went through ten emotions within a few seconds, but he seemed to approve quickly. Phil could feel Dan’s racing pulse through the palm of his hands, so he squeezed a little bit more

  “Good evenin’ Lester. How are you?” His voice seemed unphased— did everyone expect Dan and Phil to get together, even their parents?

  “I’m great,” the black-haired guest felt strangely out of place, but reminded himself this was for Dan. “How’s your day been?”

  7.

  “I love this house.” Phil stretched out his arms, yawning. Their murmurs filled the dark, yet cozy, room that night. Their secret was safe, both parents buying it in a heartbeat. Nonetheless it still felt risky, as they’d barely thought out the aftermath— they’d have to stage a break up, supposedly, but it would look… strange still living together after the fact if they were ‘broken up’.

  They silently chose not to think about it, nor talk about it. Dan focused on the more positive present. “Thanks, for real, my dad took it super well.”

  “I’m glad.” Phil’s words were so peaceful and full of endearment that Dan felt his eyes tearing up, just because he felt so extremely lucky to have such a lovely man by his side all the time. Even if the romantic parts were faked, Phil was practically Dan’s soulmate. His other half.

  “I’m… glad, too. Glad you’re here.”

  The night shifted to sunrise soon enough, and Dan didn’t sleep too long— though that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. The pair did, however, wake up with a jolt when a little pig-tailed girl burst into their room. “Uncle Da-a-an!” She plopped on top of the brunette, squeezing her small arms around his frame.

  He hugged her back, still wary as he rubbed his eyes. “Morning Val, how are you?”

  Valerie pressed her hands to her cheeks, clearly more interested in her uncle’s companion. “Who’re you, again?”

  “I’m Phil,” he smiled warmly. “Haven’t seen you in a long time, do you remember me?”

  “Uh, yes?” She sounded hesitant for a moment. “You… gave me flowers at my recital ‘cause Uncle Dan was broke, right?”

  Dan groaned. “You’re right. But he’s here for Nan’s birthday, is that okay?”

  “Yeah!” Valerie gave Phil an enthusiastic high five. “Come on outta bed, I’ll show you my doggies!”

  The look Adrian gave Dan as they met in the hallway was the most comedic knew it look the older brother had ever seen. Apparently Dan and Phil were the only ones who didn’t see how compatible they were. Sure, it took a whole lot of endearment and tolerability to live together for eight years, but did all of the family members just assume they’d end up all over each other?

  Valerie, Adrian’s six year old daughter, was caught up showing Phil her three stuffed animals when Dan arrived into the lounge, her loud, but rather cute voice filling the room.

  “And this one doesn’t have a name yet. Woof! But look at her pretty collar!”

  “She’s very cute.” Phil was cross-legged with the two ther toys on his lap. “What’s a good name for her?”

  “Uh…” she stared at the toy, then back to Phil. “What was your bunny’s name again?”

  “Honeydew.”

  “Her name should be Honeydew junior, then!” Dan snickered at her response. She hopped off her feet, tugging her father’s shirt. “Dada! I really really want a bunny rabbit! Can we get one?”

  “Maybe.” Adrian lifted her off the ground. “What’s for breakfast?”

  It didn’t take long for Phil to feel at home with the mis-match known as the Howell family. As more relatives crowded into the old-fashioned lounge, he listened to older aunts and uncles’ stories about the eighties, Dan, or each other, and was on the edge of his seat. It was safe to say that he didn’t feel out of place in the house anymore, though he wasn’t ready for just one of their customs. After howling two rounds of Happy Birthday to Dan’s grandmother and the cake had been generously served, one of Dan’s aunts started a toast.

  “To Nan’s new year!”

  “To Nan!” The family chanted, wine glasses tapping and the kids lifting their plastic cups enthusiastically.

  “To new lives!”

  “To Leah!” One of Dan’s cousins, perhaps a second cousin as Phil was starting to lose track, smiled with her newborn baby that they’d tributed to.

  “And to new lovers!”

  Dan immediately turned a shade of pink, and mouthed the words “you gotta kiss me” to Phil in a jitter. Most of them chanted, “To Dan!” Though a few said “to Dannyboy” instead, and Val straight up screamed “To Phil!” Phil was caught off guard by that, but realized halfway through the toast what was happening.

  Dan pulled towards him and their lips met for just a moment. The family cheered around the table and sipped their drinks, Dan drinking his water coyly. Phil felt the need to take Dan’s hand in his own under the table, which alarmed the younger man for a split second as their eyes met again. The alarm quickly wore off and was replaced with relief, and Dan couldn’t keep himself from smirking.

  “I love your family so much.”

  It was later that night. Val, Adrian, and his wife Mareya were staying in the guest room, so Dan and Phil were sleeping on a blow up mattress in the dogs’ room. Phil was curled up on the side closest to Molly, naturally, when Dan came in after washing up.

  “Yeah? Uh, by the way,” He ruffled his hair back as he plopped onto their makeshift bed. “Sorry that I didn’t… warn you about the whole toast. It’s a thing they do and I totally forgot until it, y’know, happened.”

  “Don’t worry. Besides, your family is so amazed that you even have a boyfriend.” The black-haired man raised an eyebrow. “A hot one, too.”

  “Stop.”

  “Come on, babe,” That certainly didn’t roll off his tongue naturally, as he cringed at his own words, but it made Dan laugh, and that made it worth it. “I know, I’m hilarious, aren’t I?”

  “Gross, stop.” Dan pressed his hand to Phil’s cheek, pretending to slap him. “Good night.”

  “Night, baby.”

  Dan sighed, staying quiet. Phil almost thought he’d won before the brunette blurted out, “Nasty.”

  Phil couldn’t help but laugh, too.

  Valerie clearly liked Phil, giving him a dramatic kiss on the cheek the following evening when it was nearly time to leave. She made her uncle kneel down too, so that she could reach his ear, and whispered, “Can we trade boyfriends?”

  “You have a boyfriend?” Dan queried. She shook her head, baffled.

  “Of course not! But I know Matthew R. in my class has a big crush on me.” She kept her voice low as she continued,  “You’d like him, ‘cause he likes starbucks and youtube and Halloween.”

  Dan laughed, causing Phil and Val’s parents to look back to her, confused. The seven year old violently shushed him before he replied. “I’ll pass.” She stuck out her tongue in response, and finally gave Dan a hug.

  “Bye, uncle Dan. Bye, Phil!”

  As they waved goodbye, Dan grasped Phil’s free hand lightly. “That kid.”

  “She’s so precious.” Phil rested his head on the taller man’s shoulder, before turning around to the guest room. While their hands remained linked, he lazily kicked the door behind them and danced around the room. They looked quite clumsy and strange but they were laughing, ear to ear, and that was all that mattered.

  “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine-e-e,” Dan mocked Phil’s habit, but out of admiration. The eldest almost forced himself to look annoyed, but his face cracked a loving smile.

  “I hate you.”

  “Yeah?”

  Phil was reluctant to reply, instead tossing his arms around Dan’s wide frame. “Maybe not. You win.”

  “You make me happy, when skies are grey,” the brunette’s voice was out of tune and exhausted, but it only smothered Phil even more. “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you-u-u.”

  Phil laughed, as his dance partner held the note terribly, before realizing Dan was waiting for him to finish the lyric. His eyes softened.

  “Please don’t take my sunshine away.” He murmured just loud enough, so only Dan could hear, because his best friend was the only person in the world he ever wanted to hear him at that moment. It was tooth-achingly sweet, the way they were tangled up together and simply looking into each other’s eyes. They were both giggling because of how cheesy their situation was, and because they were both too aware of what was bound to happen. After a second of silence, their lips met.

  That was just for them, and they both had grins on their faces like the lovestruck idiots they were because of course they fell for each other, like everyone sensed they would. They tumbled onto the bed beside each other, Phil leaning up against Dan’s chest, still laughing softly. “Did you know I love you, Dan Howell?”

  Dan wrapped his arms around Phil this time, warmth filling them both. “Don’t think you’ve mentioned it, no.”

  They barely slept that night, facing each other and giggling because they were both so oblivious, weren’t they? Phil kept curling his fingers around little bits of Dan’s locks and reciting things he loved about his best friend and his family. Dan cried a few times, unable to express how much he loved the other man, but always ended up smiling. That night could’ve lasted forever, and they wouldn’t have complained.

epilogue

  Home sweet home. Where thirty dollar frames from France were hung with possibly the cheesiest honeymoon photo taken inside of it, rings glistening and smiles underneath the eiffel tower. The frame read City Of Love and whilst it made Dan want to cringe to death, as he’d said while buying it, it ended up being hung in the centre wall of their lounge.

  They were walking along the shoreline at sunset, hands locked, and talking to each other like always. They knew they were often like film-scene-lovers, but they were happy, and that was all that mattered.

  They’d be happy as long as they had each other, they knew that all too well. Whether in Paris eating donuts in a little cafe or growing old in their forever home with a couple dogs, they’d learned to appreciate it all.

  They spotted a familiar pair a little way down the path, on the sand, and it only took them a moment to recognize the little fluff playing in the water. “Astro!” Phil called out, and the grey dog came running to them. His owners looked delighted as he nuzzled his long nose into Phil’s arms. Dan bent down to his husband, and realized he was crying tears of joy.

  Perhaps most things aren’t new. Maybe they’re just renewed memories, because it was just like the day they brought Astro home— Phil with teary eyes, Dan in love. Not too much had changed, but it felt like everything changed at the same time. Maybe that’s what home sweet home was. Building off of memories.

  The waves fell along the low tide, the sky rosy, and it was all okay. Because it was clear now, whether up, away, off their feet or appreciating the life they had a home, Dan and Phil were just grateful to have each other.