#remember that scene where it cuts from a party to nick? alone? in a room above a naked man in a bed?

[jotaroslooseeyebrowhair]

I will pay insurmountable amounts of pure cash to get a Great Gatsby dead on main au (Nick/Gatsby style, ofc)

[polaristhngs]

Fearless (10/x)

Pairing: Dodge Mason x Female OC

Summary: Josie was always cautious. She had taught herself from experience to never put her reliance on others again. She blamed her innate distrust and built defenses on affection on past misery. She'd been fooled, played, and lied to. And Josie wasn't gonna go through that again. 

Warnings: Minor Explicit Language, Mention of Abandonment

Word Count: 6k

Disclaimer

I do not own the series of Panic or the characters. This is a slight AU of Season 1.

Masterlist || I. PANIC || IX. OUTSIDERS || XI. CAUTION

X. TRUST

Josie blamed her innate distrust and built defenses on affection on past misery. Dodge's words continued to curse her like headaches in her brain for days. Josie was familiar with those pretty words. She was told that she was liked, that she was loved, and that they cared about her, but in the end, she was only left disappointed. She'd been fooled. She was played. She was lied to. And it hurt. Josie wasn't gonna go through that again.

"Easy on the plate," Nick told her.

Josie apologizes for the noticeable scrapping sound of the glass as she tried to gently cut her piece of meat. Taking a deep breath, she ate. The older Slater eyed her, watching his little sister being rough on inanimate objects. She was rough on the furniture too. He'd seen her almost belligerently arrange the pillows on their couch and clean up the living room. It must've meant she got something on her mind and was procrastinating on thinking about it. If she wasn't trying to move from one place to another she'd become muddled with thoughts. It must've meant she got something on her mind and was putting off thinking about it.

"So..." He changes the subject. "Midsummer's coming up soon. You excited?" He tried to cheer up her plain-faced response. "C'mon, you like dances."

"First of all, I don't like dances, you do. Second, it is not a dance, it's a rich people's party. And in case you've forgotten, we're poor."

"Yep. That's the spirit," Nick said sarcastically.

"Why do we even have to go this thing every year?" Josie complained. "We're not rich and the party's just a waste of money. It's just stupid."

"Are you upset that you have to go or that you couldn't find a date?"

Bishop would most likely ask Heather to be his date, and Nat would most likely have dates lined up already. A date wasn't absolutely necessary, but it wasn't a horrible idea either. Josie wouldn't fit in the scene.

The event was generally attended by the town's privileged and middle-class dwellers. They were one of the town's sob stories, with the older brother left alone to raise his little sister, especially since Nick managed to raise her rather well. They were a symbol of pity, and the party invitation was only another example. It's yet another mediocrity celebration in this town, but Josie wouldn't dispute that it was amusing. Her brother wasn't reluctant in expressing his enthusiasm to help Josie fit in. She didn't want to let him down, and her friends would be there, so she agreed to go.

"You can ask that Dodge boy to take you." Nick grinned as he took a bite.

"I swear, I am this close to throwing this plate over your head." He tried to hide a laugh at the forming red on Josie's grip on her fork.

"You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"The thing where you act like a bitch 'cause you like someone." She scoffs, looking offended.

Josie slammed her cutlery at the table before standing upright and walking over to the dishwasher. Nick was amused by her typical teen girl crush defensive attitude. Josie wasn't the sort to fall for every guy she met, but when she did, it was clear. When she saw his teasing, she'd become forceful in covering her flushed cheeks. She was always so protective of the contents of her heart.

Nick knew that someone was filling her mind. He had an idea in mind but it was a long shot for her to answer.

"Is it Dodge?"

"God, you never shut up do you?" There was that defense again.

Nick remembered a similar reaction from their conversation regarding their mother's absence. Josie and her mother were very close. Sometimes, her mom would reply to her texts and calls. When the time came when the woman stopped responding to her, Josie still preserved the sliver of hope. But that feeling always ends up getting crushed.

"Not everyone's gonna hurt you, Josie."

"—Probably. But they still do." The dark-haired girl tried to formulate a smile debating against her watery eyes and shaky voice. "People I start to care about just end up hurting me and I'd hate them for it. And I know that Dodge would hurt me a-and I don't want to hate him."

"Maybe you should try to give this another shot. It might surprise you." Nick hoped she would.

Josie was always cautious. Her shoulders securely kept her aloft while her feet remained stable on the ground. She never faltered. She never stopped going. She brushes aside any obstacles in her path, but when she falls, she falls hard. Only something troubling might cause her to lose her composure. She had taught herself from experience to never put her reliance on others again. It was a distraction, and she was always the one who blamed herself for them. Being distracted would only leave one plummeting into the deepest despair. And Josie had already fallen times before. But would she take the chance again?

Maybe.

————

READY TO GAMBLE YOUR FAITH?

Diggins texted her later in the night. Another challenge was about to commence.

There was that willingness to be preoccupied once again. Josie presumed that everyone else had received a message from Diggins, but it came to her as a surprise when Dodge Mason suddenly appeared on her doorstep.

It took at least a week for one of the pair to have the guts to cease their brief separation. Dodge looked like a hapless teenage boy standing in front of her door. Mouth agape but no words seemed to come out of it. The girl, who was usually full of humorous quips, was too stunned mute. However, she needed to know why he was there.

"I figured you needed a ride since your car's in the shop."

"I could just ask Heather for a ride."

"Yep." Dodge stuttered. There was that option. "Yes, you could've."

"So why even be here?"

Because I've been looking for an excuse to talk to you for days.

"It's getting late and if we show up to the challenge late, we'd have to forfeit." Dodge thought of an alibi.

He was right again. Josie couldn't decide whether she liked or despised his proclivity for being correct. Checking the time on her phone, they only have at least half an hour to spare to get to the venue. Josie failed to phone Heather or Natalie to arrange for her to be picked up for the game. She intuitively didn't bother to because for a couple of challenges, Dodge would normally pick her up. Perhaps she was expecting him. She didn't have to contact him or anything. He'd just be there for her.

She was left with no choice but to get into his car to drive them off to Panic. The entire car ride was voiceless except for the radio that thankfully filled in their silence. After pulling over and parking over by the side of an empty road, the pair began their voyage through the forest.

"You know walking faster isn't gonna make us any less lost," Josie shouts over the speedily walking figure of Dodge Mason.

"I am not lost," Dodge says so stubbornly.

She couldn't help but whine after strolling in circles through the woodlands for the past twenty minutes. It could either be anxiety about missing the challenge or aggravation of being around him. She tried to put some distance between herself and him, but the night was clearly not on her side.

"Is should be right here?" Dodge looks over at the maps on his phone.

"What here? There is no here, Dodge."

Dodge licks his lips, scratching his head as he gets closer to annoyance. He strides over to her, showing her the content on his phone. "Diggins said to meet them right here at Parkers Mount."

"So you just copy-pasted the word woods in your GPS?" Josie sassed making Dodge let out a loud huff of irritation.

"Just admit it, we're lost." She states. "No, we're not." He retaliates.

Checking at the maps for direction once more. "Alright. There should be a road there for about two kilometers that way." He points over in the straight direction in front of them.

"That's a tree."

"It's past the tree."

Stomping her feet towards the pathway, Dodge rushes behind Josie to pursue her. "I can't seem to shake the feeling that you're a little pissed."

"What gave it away?" She gave a tight-lipped reply. Dodge couldn't help but snicker at her sarcastic tone.

"We should find the road any minute now." He looks over the girl's troubled demeanor. He figured that he could cheer her up with that. On the bright side, they were gonna get out of that mess.

"Look we're gonna get to the challenge on time if that's the problem."

Josie stops abruptly before turning to him. "It's not about Panic. It is you. You are the problem."

Dodge came to a halt as he watched her exhaustingly speak the words that had been eating her up for days. The way her eyes also spoke to him with such hesitation and chaos, she inhaled sharply before continuing.

"You've made me walk through the woods in the middle of the night. I am cold and my feet are killing me. You know I hate hiking." She did, Dodge agreed. "We've been running in circles for the past twenty minutes and we're probably gonna be eaten by tigers or something. And all you can think of is Panic."

"And yet still. Despite that, I am still not mad at you. Well— maybe a little. What's pissing me off is that I can't seem to truly hate you and that's the problem. Shit. I think I'm losing my mind."

This isn't what he wanted. Watching the girl before him battling with her own emotions isn't what he wanted. He didn't have a compelling justification for telling her how he felt, other than the fact that he wanted her to know. He rethought everything after learning about Jimmy and Abby, and he realized he couldn't imagine his life without her. His existence would be incomplete without her in it. It was as if a little voice within his skull begged him to hug her and never let her go. Perhaps his confession was his poor attempt to be with her.

He was right. Dodge should've kept it to himself, then at least Josie wouldn't be so conflicted and torn. However, she wasn't. Josie knew the answer. Unlike Dodge, she was too fearful to admit it.

"I shouldn't have put you in the spot like that. It was my fault." Don't say that, she begged. "It's okay. You don't have to feel bad for me. You don't have to say anything or embrace it or even allow it. You already don't anyway."

"—I never said that, Dodge."

"I'm not asking you for anything, Jo. But I just need you to believe me. Believe me when I say that you are my favorite person in the world. You make me laugh. You make me smile. Hell, you make me want to talk." He bemoaned.

"Ever since I moved to Carp, I've been counting the days until I get out of here. But you're basically the only reason why I looked forward to walking around this shitty town because I know I'd get to see you. I hate it here but you make me want to stick around for the good parts. I know people have broken your trust before, and you don't have to trust me, but I need you to believe me. At least believe it in your heart and in your mind because I do..."

Josie Slater stood there, stunned and speechless, couldn't take her gaze away from the boy who'd just poured out his entire heart in front of her and was waiting for her to crush it with her bare hands. Dodge felt vulnerable. Maybe that was her power over him. Most of the time, Dodge felt like shit. But with Josie, he felt that he could breathe. He was at peace. She was his anchor. But Dodge was bad luck. She didn't need to be with him, he thought. He would tie her down when she was meant to soar. He'd sink her down alongside him like he often does with people he loves.

"Dodge, I— Ahh!”

Just before she could finish her sentence, a piece of cloth was wrapped around her eyes. Josie cursed internally at their interruption. Two figures emerged from out of nowhere holding ropes and bandages, aiming to subdue the two teens. Josie could guess that Dodge was seized too, hearing his groans and the sound of a struggling teen she could only assume was Diggins trying to hold him down. With both of their sights covered, the pair were led to a mysterious white van parked along the sidewalk of the road Dodge directed earlier.

Josie was on the verge of slipping out of her seat throughout the lengthy and oddly silent bumpy trip. She could feel the tremors of the person next to her and smell the musky aroma of the one on the other side. The car came to a halt again, and she heard a teenager's body being tossed to another seat. Josie didn't panic. Hopefully, the shivering person beside her knew it was just a game. The whole thing just seemed way over the top.

When the car finally stopped after minutes of driving, a hand grabbed Josie by her arm and led her to a lineup of other players. There they stood: Shawna Kenny, Drew Santiago, Dodge Mason, Josie Slater, Natalie Williams, Ray Hall, and Tyler Young.

"Welcome players to the seventh challenge," Diggins spoke.

"It's true that what you don't know can never hurt you. And what you do know must come at a cost. One man's bluff challenges you to face three fears at once: fear of darkness, fear of falling, and the fear of the unknown."

Her spine tingled when she heard the sound of a moving train. But she was not convinced. Summer most likely brought a speaker in an attempt to send them panicking. Josie was well aware that the railway station was at least an hour's drive from Carp. The van ride took no more than fifteen minutes. God bless Drew's innocent heart as his voice spoke with a tremble, questioning the train noise.

Winners of the challenge would move on to the individuals. Diggins explained that they would cross the tracks bridging to the other side and make it back to the van. We could choose to walk blind or we could ask for a hand and they'd get to ask you a question.

"What kind of questions?" She recognized Natalie's voice.

"Quid pro quo," Diggins says. "We help you and you help us."

Despite knowing these people her entire life, she did not trust them. There's always more to it than meets the eye. Josie was already thinking about how Ray and, especially, Tyler would respond to questions about her if they were questioned. She could already pinpoint who would cave or not and be eliminated. There's probably only one person there she could trust. Josie felt guilty as her mind debated on whether to trust Natalie. If anyone were to do anything to move up into the game, it would be her. But, for Panic's sake, wouldn't she do the same? Josie was torn between her ambition to win and her moral conscience.

Sensing her silent anxiety, Josie pulled her hand away as she felt Dodge's fingers brushing against hers. A bashful attempt of comfort that didn't go unnoticed by the two emcees who only smirked at the scene.

"Shawna Kenny, you're up first."

————

Dodge Mason was calm.

He has always been since the very first day he set foot in Carp, Texas. He maintained his composure in the face of fear. Preferring to stare it right it down with a tight smirk on his face. Nothing was gonna get through him. He reminded himself that.

His position was steadily still as Summer left him standing alertly on train tracks when his turn came up. He was blinded, seeing nothing but darkness. Left with nothing but his senses and intuition to guide him from falling. He could hear the sound of the train and the small waves of the sea. Dodge took small careful notches forward. His foot trying to find a sure hardwood it could land on.

"So do you like living life on the edge?" Diggins badgered.

"Ahhh! That is a very good one." Dodge mocked.

He rolled his eyes under the blindfold as the boy advised him to watch his step. Were they this annoying with the other players or were they just planning to get a reaction off him?

Taking another simple but cautious footing, Dodge remained unfazed, not reacting to any clever wisecracks Diggins was throwing at him. Truth be told, he wasn't buying it. The van, the blindfolds, their entire setup. Dodge believed that they were all probably standing very nice and safe on about a scrape knee distance away from the vehicle.

The whole thing was a test. Frightening them to get one to pour out each others' secrets. He knew better than to put his trust in these people. Trusting people meant letting them in. Putting your entire conscience into their hands and them having the power to do whatever with your trust. It was a blind game and it is your choice to take the leap. Was he ready to do so? Yes, he is. He knew what he was getting into when he told her what he felt. The vulnerability it cost. Dodge didn't trust anyone in Carp except Josie. He'd risk it all.

"Careful Dodge."

The further he tried to stride, the more fearful the two hosts' faces expressed. The hardboard wasn't as steady as Dodge was. One wrong step and shift of wave could easily send one plummeting down below. Every creaking sound from the board heard as the Mason boy took a step felt like a step closer to falling.

"Argh!" The other teenage boy reacted, a fist in his mouth.

Diggins and Summer's whole body flinches as Dodge took a large step moving forward, beating the gap between rails that could've made him lose his balance.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like any help?" Diggins voiced alert.

He was now positioned at the center of the bridge, right above the brimming waves of the seashore and yet the boy remained stubborn. "I already told you. I'm fine."

He didn't panic. Both feet planted firmly on the tracks, Dodge reached for his pocket and dragged out coins he prepared just in case. I should've told Jo about this, he regretted.

"You see if you cut a deal with the judges—"

His body paused, shoulders falling as he listened well to the last coin dropping not on wood but on the water rippling just down below him. The echo of crashing waves against rocks became more evident to him. Fuck.

"Then you're already in trouble."

The boy turns around to the burning gazes of the other teens, watching in anticipation and anxiety on his next move. This is fucking stupid, he argued. Diggins's hand in his heart as Dodge pretended to tip over. Pretending to lose his balance had both hosts halt in panic at the sight of his act. Good. Dodge flipped it, each coin landing well on the wood felt like reassurance as it guided his direction towards them.

Tap, tap, tap. After a couple more coin tosses, Dodge was back safely on the dirted ground. They didn't know whether to feel impressed or terrified at Dodge's defiance and boldness.

————

Josie already felt her feet slipping.

Just mere steps away from where Summer last placed her, she felt like an idiot as she trotted like she was on a tightrope. Her arms advanced forward and her shoes grinding on any hardwood surface they could find. She remembered the challenge on the granary. Despite being so far up, she maintained her guard and balance. Fortunately in that chapter, she had her vision to assist her. Now, she was walking blind.

"Watch your step," Diggins warned her just before her foot landed. She didn't know if that was a genuine warning or a quip. Her blind walking was making her all feel angry and Diggins wasn't helping.

"Shut up," Josie's deep voice had sent a mental glare to Diggins's face.

Her breathing went rapid. She swallows, reminding herself that this was a test. Fear was a great contributor to an interrogation. And it was working on her.

She was terrified of the unknown. Things you never saw coming.  Things you didn't expect to happen.  Things you can't explain. Things that could catch you off guard. It's scary. She hated the expectedness of Carp, but it gave her reassurance. Familiar things won't hurt you. Sudden things led to an unpredictable path. Perhaps that's why she just left after Dodge's confession.

Her body weight shifted, swaying to the side as she let her guard down. Almost falling off the rails. Diggins asked her if she needed help, sounding genuinely worried for her. The girl wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her stubbornness that had Diggins scratching his head.

The creaking train tracks echoed continuously as Josie took one step over the other. Not caring much about balance now, she speedily moves forward making her nearly tip over.

"Fucking hell, Josie! Just ask for help!" Diggins shouted.

"Fine!" That word sounded like a surrender.

At her compliance to ask for help, they would get to ask her at least five questions but she only have one chance to do it before the timer ends. If she took any longer than twenty minutes, Josie would be automatically out. Diggins and Summer stood side by side. Peering out their phones, Summer hits the video record, and Diggins starts the timer. Both watched the standing dark-haired girl awaiting their questions.

"Anything you have to say about your fellow players?" He starts."Screw you?" Josie quipped.

"You've known these people your whole life. Know any secret of theirs you like to share with us?"

"Tyler's a two-faced dick who would rat out Ray in a heartbeat. He likes to pretend he's being a loyal friend but honestly, he just wants to make sure that Ray would never find out 'cause he would kill him.”

Diggins approached with interest. "What do you mean?"

Josie took a deep breath, before. "Ray doesn't know but Tyler used to sell drugs to his mom."

The haunting news broke out during those regular weekends that Ray's mother died. She heard from her brother that it was because of a drug overdose and that Ray's father found her passed out on the cemented ground with foam coming out of her mouth. When they were dating, Tyler used to openly tell the submissive Josie the people he sold to and blatantly mentioned Ray's mom, as Josie recounted. It didn't take a second for Josie to put two and two together. Especially after seeing Tyler's panicked reaction to the tragic news.

"How about Heather? Or Natalie?"

"Ray's in love with Heather," Josie spoke out. It was more of Ray's secret than Heather's. If anyone knew that Ray Hall had a heart, that susceptibility would be used against him. "I don't know when the two of them even began, but he cares for her. I saw the look in his eyes when I told him that he would only hurt her. It looked like it crushed him."

"Natalie's been teaming up with Dodge. He's been helping her from the get-go. Dodge told me that she offered to split the money with him if either of them wins." She snickered. "Hopefully, Dodge gets a bigger cut since he mostly seems to be doing all the work."

"How nice of Dodge to tell you," Diggins spoke in a tone that Josie didn't understand.  "Josie Slater, you and Dodge Mason seemed to be awfully close." He stated.

"Is that your question?"

"An observation." She offered a tight-lipped attitude at their shift of topic.

"Do you know any secrets of his that could be any help to us?"

"I don't know any secret of his. He doesn't talk much." Josie lied. Diggins asking her about Dodge was a bit of a surprise but she should've seen it coming. Dodge and Josie had grown closer during the summer days and anyone with eyes would've agreed. Dodge and Josie exchanged little details about each other, getting to know one another quite well even when the other didn't notice. Josie did know his secrets or at least some of them. She believed that Dayna could've counted as a secret, but she wasn't gonna rat her out to them.

"How about his fears?"

"That's a stupid question."

"Must be afraid of something."

"He spends most of his time saddling on a fucking bull that tramples him off for fun," Josie responded, tilting her head to make a point. "Still think he's afraid of something?"

"Look, if you want to know Dodge's secrets, you're talking to the wrong person. Like he would even tell me anything." She mutters.

"You sounded heartbroken for a second there, Josie. Is there anything you'd like to tell us?" Diggins kept his voice composed but also felt intrigued.

Shit. She slipped for a moment there.

"I thought this wasn't about me."

"Do you have feelings for Dodge?" Her breath hitched. The question caught her off guard just like the words he said some nights ago.

"The judges need an answer, Josie."

"You can tell the judges to fuck off, Diggins." Josie Slater, a ray of sunshine, Diggins said internally.

"Clock's ticking." Summer reminded.

"We'll ask again." The boy repeated. "Are you in love with Dodge Mason?"

She tried to find the answer in her mind. "I don't know," Josie whispered.

"Answers should be a yes or a no."

"I don't know, OK. It's not that simple. Dodge is probably the most confusing person I've ever met. He can either be silent and thinking or loud and sudden. Every time I'm with him, I never seem to know what to do, what to think, or what to say. It's insane because Dodge always seems to know what to do. I'm hopelessly lost and he's endlessly certain."

"I used to think I was cursed. In a stroke of bad luck, people close to me would get affected. Maybe I used to say that just so I could sleep at night or just a poor effort to try to comfort myself, but I knew the truth. People don't leave because of some fucking messed-up reason, they left because of me. I used to think that bad things simply happen to me, but they didn't. I was the bad thing. I'm the problem."

"You still owe us an answer," Diggins said.

"Isn't it obvious?" Josie said defeatedly. "If I were to admit it, it would've meant that it is true. And if it were true, then I would've already lost him. And I don't want to."

On the night of the Graybill challenge, when she told Dodge that he was nothing to her, Josie lied. Oh boy did she lie. He was never nothing. Dodge was something. More than something for her. For Josie, he was everything. And nothing terrified her even more. For him to look at her and see nothing but broken pieces needed to be fixed. Perhaps she was doing both of them a favor. She's saving both of them a heartbreak. If he wouldn't break her heart, she knew damn well that she would break his.

————

The Mason boy released a breath of relief seeing the Slater girl seated safely inside the white van. Feeling a set of eyes on her, Josie and Dodge locked eyes. Seeing the sorrowful look in her eyes, Dodge had to fight the impulse to go run beside her and ask her what was wrong. Despite being seated apart, Dodge had the urge to take Josie's hand, but Josie was hugging herself tightly.

The whole ride back to town was silent. All kids, except Dodge, looked so lost and defeated. Them not knowing that they basically sold their souls to the devil. Josie overheard some players being eliminated but still managed to give the judges information they needed against the players. Josie passed but the feeling of victory left out a bitter taste. None of them got hurt. They were all safely sitting in the car on their way back home, but they all had to pay a small price.

As the ignition stopped and the van came to a halt, all remaining teenagers exited the vehicle after being dropped off at the center of town. It was midnight and most of the stores were closed by now. The second they got off the van, the players went their separate ways and went home. Everyone, except Josie, whose gaze remained planted on Dodge who was about to find his way back home too.

"Hey..." Dodge turned his direction to her as she called out to him. "Can we talk?" Please say yes, Josie pleaded.

"Sure," Dodge said.

The tall boy followed the girl who led him through an alleyway, a little farther from their dropoff site. Josie's hands fidget at her sides as she felt the boy's presence follow hers.

At their quiet little corner near Dot's diner, they felt safe. Ironically, in spite of darkness and the endless unknown possibilities before them, they felt safe. Not by their surroundings but by each other. Gathering up all her courage to meet his eyes, she spoke.

"About what you said..."

"You don't have to say anything, Josie." He shook his head apologetically. "No, I'm gonna."

"Were you telling the truth?" She crossed her arms defensively. "Why would I lie to you?" He said.

"For the sake of Panic."

"You really think I would do that to you?"

"Anything's possible." She shrugged as she loomed closer. Josie held her breath. She wanted to be certain. Perhaps this was her warning to him. His last chance to run away from her now is if he knew what was good for him. "And you don't know, maybe I'm fooling you too. Have you ever thought about that? Just how sure are you with me, Dodge Mason?"

"Sure enough to know that this you trying to push me away. The same thing you tried to do during that night at Graybill's." He inched towards the girl causing her to move backward. "You're pushing me away, Josie. You're trying to run away, but guess what, I'm not leaving you. I promise I'll stay, remember?" She did remember.

"You're right. I am not sure whether you're fooling me, but I don't care."

"Go on." He dared. "Fuck with my head. Say that you've been using me. That this was all a lie. Say that this is all for the sake of winning the game. But I want you to look at me dead in the eyes and tell me the truth that everything that happened between us didn't matter."

"Let me be clear..." She sauntered.

"I'm high maintenance. I tend to get clingy and needy, but there are times when I just like my own space. I would want to talk to you constantly, make you laugh at my cheesy jokes, and stop you from doing something stupid. But I'm not gonna save you. I may try. I care a lot and it's kind of a problem, but whatever issues you got going on there, I'm not gonna be the one to fix you just like I don't expect you to be the one to fix me. Remember that I'm just another fucked up girl that's also looking for her own peace of mind."

His wandering mind was too loud. Biting the inside of his cheek like he was holding himself back. Dodge never planned on fixing her. She wasn't broken. She was Josie. For every part that he'd seen, that never changed. She was like a struck of lightning. It is unexpected and might take you off guard. Most people would be terrified by lightning, but Dodge is not one of them. It can choose to terrify him but he won't budge. The pulsing burst of light that made him feel alive and convinced him that he wasn't alone in the world. Lightning is both dangerous and beautiful. Dodge was captivated by her, and she had the power to destroy him at any time.

"You try to push me out, but I just find my way back in," Dodge said.

That piercing look of Josie's that Dodge had never met before sent a sliver of fear in his veins. He had seen the different expressions of the Slater girl but never this one. That antagonizing look that made him want to beg on his knees to apologize to her, saying that he didn't mean anything he said even though he did. With a fist forming on her hand and the glare she sent him, Josie looked like she wanted to punch Dodge. Then she did something that surprised him more. She kissed him.

She was kissing him, Dodge realized.

Josie tugged him closer to her. Her hands cupped Dodge's cheeks like she was holding the entire world and not wanting it to disappear for even a second. Dodge was shocked, to say the least. Every fiber of his body vibrated with intensity as her lips gently pressed against his.

What has brought them together? Loss? Misery? Two poor souls and their ill-fated meeting has brought them to discover something bigger inside themselves. They would begin to know the force of devastation it costs when falling for a person. It was a blind gamble, expecting a light outcome at times like these. But she was worth it.

Taking his caressing hands off her waist, he slowly reached up and pressed his hand against her cheek. He could feel her chest rose as he took the lead. Gotten surprised at the beginning, she relaxed, immediately sinking into his arms as Dodge moved his lips talentedly on hers. Dodge kissed her. Really kissed her and he did so with his entire body. She completely faded onto him. The intensity and tenderness of his lips when he took her made her melt. If he had to fit an entire lifetime into this kiss, he would. It had to be perfect. Or if not perfect, then at least be damn good.

An inner voice in his head told him to kiss her. Kiss her for as long as you can. Kiss her for as long as she wants. Kiss her until they get out of that alleyway and move on with their lives. Kiss her as long as she will allow it. And it was true. All Josie needed to do was ask. He was hers. And he'd continue to be hers for as long as she wants. He'd be hers indefinitely.

Letting out exasperated breaths after pulling away, the pairs' foreheads connected, and their eyes remained closed as they continued to savor it. That lingering feeling of longing shimmered so strongly even just after mere seconds.

"What was that?" Dodge teases.

"My answer."

"I didn't get it."

"You want me to tell you again?" Smirking as she leaned into his ear, whispering. "I really like you, Andrew Dodge Mason."

"You're making me crazy about you, Josie Slater."

Her laugh made him want to bottle it up. As their foreheads leaned towards each other, Josie didn't even need to open her eyes to feel the bright smile formulating on Dodge's face, and the same goes with Dodge. This must be the happiest they have ever been. Neither of them wanted to pull away from their respective touch. Her hands were soft against his chest while his were selfishly encircled his arms on her waist, not wanting to let her go. Both teenagers can't seem to hide away their joy, with large grins peering along with their faces as they blushed at what just happened.

It would be a long road, Josie knew that. This was something more than they can fathom to explain, and she wanted it to be right. He was the first to fall, but she would fall even harder. Josie was a millstone. She will, nevertheless, make every effort not to saddle him with her problems. The happiness shimmering in Dodge's blue eyes made her want to try. And she will. She'll try her best. She'll do everything she can to make it work. And if it does, maybe they can.

[thedeathdeelers]

Trevor doesn’t remember when he first starts thinking of his bandmates again. His dead bandmates, that is, and just thinking the word dead makes him want to curl into the fetal position all over again like when he was seventeen. He thinks he starts remembering them when a decade has passed and Carrie is born. He was twenty-seven and there was this little baby with big eyes and small pink fingernails in his arms, when he thinks ‘She’ll never get to meet her uncles.’ He doesn’t cry then, but it’s almost as if his baby girl can feel his sadness because she starts screaming in his arms and it's enough of a distraction that he rocks her to sleep without thinking of the boys again that day.

He keeps them locked away in the back of his mind for the better part of five years until kindergarten rolls around and little Carrie with her curly pigtails and glittery Hello Kitty backpack comes home excitedly talking about her new best friends.

“Daddy, they are so cool! Flynn has dinosaur stickers and she gave me one. See!” She points to the top of her right hand where there’s a green pterodactyl cartoon sticker firmly slapped on. “And Julie has this huge purple crayon and she let me use it to write my name!”

At first, he’s beyond excited. His little girl made friends on her first day, which shouldn’t have been such a surprise now that he thinks about it since she has always been a little go-getter. Still, he ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ at the right moments as she talks his ear off about her new friends. By the end of the first week, Carrie has decided she wants to invite her best friends over for a small back to school party with just them and lots of pizza. She reminds Trevor three times Friday night not to forget that Flynn likes Hawaiian pizza and Julie likes orange Fanta best, and that he should become best friends with their parents because she’s decided they are all going to grow up and live together.

He laughs and a twinge of ache in his chest reminds him for a moment of a time when he was younger, not as young as Carrie maybe but just as naive. He remembers for a second flashes of running around playing tag at the park and scrapping the top of his thumb’s skin off. He still has the scar.

He can still remember Alex pulling a Batman sticker out of his pocket and taking him to the public restrooms to clean the cut. Alex the worrier, even at twelve, rambling about getting the cut infected and the proper way to tie his shoes and doesn’t he ever think about where he’s walking.

“Bobby! Oh my god, please tell me you don’t need stitches!” He can remember floppy blonde hair and blue eyes and gasping breaths. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t hurt, you idiot, your eyes are watering.”

“Maybe I’m just mesmerized by your beauty, dude,” he can hear himself replying to try and ease the rigid shoulders and deep frown on his friend’s face. “Really, man, I’m fine. Just a little blood.”

“Let’s just get you to a bathroom and wash it off, okay?” But Alex had been hiding his eye roll and curling lips and his shoulders no longer made him look like an awkwardly hanging scarecrow. It was enough to make him forget his thumb was throbbing and dripping blood.

The scrape is deep enough that it bleeds for a while into the sink, he can still picture the reddish water as it goes down the drain. He and Alex had met in the back of their sixth grade English class, Alex was shy and constantly biting his nails while he was just trying to catch a nap without getting in trouble. They’d bonded over a mutual silent agreement: Bobby held Alex’s hand under the desk when he had to read aloud in class and Alex would nudge him with the right answer when the teacher would call him in the middle of a power nap.

“Gatsby is gay,” he can remember Alex whispering to him when Miss Augustine had called him one time in class. He remembers repeating it without a second thought and realizing only seconds later what the fuck he had just said. He remembers wanting to turn to Alex because he knows there’s something important in the interpretation for his friend. He knows it by how Alex sometimes stares at that soccer player, Gabriel, who sits two rows in front of them. He knows by how Alex turns red when the guy notices him staring and the anxious way he strums a beat with his fingers. He wishes he could turn to him and say he accepts him no matter who he loves without saying it because he knows Alex isn’t ready for that discussion yet. But they’re in class so instead he turns to his best friend and gives him an overly exasperated look, hoping it conveys how he has no idea how he’s going to dig himself out of this one but Miss Augustine had smiled and just went about her lesson.

They never talk about it but a few days later, when he plops his copy of the book onto Alex’s desk before class he smiled and says, “You were right. Daisy was totally a beard. Nick and Gatsby were totally in love.” And reading shitty Fitzgerald - who stole more than half of the amazing work written and attributed to him from his wife Zelda, and as a feminist Bobby knows that’s just some misogynistic bullshit he cannot tolerate even for a school grade - is all worth it. Because Alex looks at him with a look of pure joy that makes him feel like he just scored an extra carton of strawberry milk at lunch (and that’s immense happiness because everyone loves that’s pink milk.)

He’s thinking about the park with a bloody thumb when he hears the doorbell and goes to answer it. And suddenly all the excitement of meeting his daughter’s new friends leaves his body as a chill kisses his spine. Nothing prepares him for seeing the girl from the Orpheum staring at him with a taller, blue-eyed man who must be her husband. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open, What are you doing here? He wants to ask. Are you a ghost? But before he can, he feels Carrie wiggle her way past him and leap into two pairs of arms. He can just make out black, thick boxer braids, deep brown skin, and a bright mint feather boa above Carrie’s head and he knows he’s just met Flynn. The other arm wrapped around his daughter is attached to a girl slightly smaller than both of them, a huge mass of curls making her appear their height with light brown skin and a wrist covered in macaroni jewelry. And that must be Julie, which means, he looks up to see the parents in front of him - the girl from the Orpheum is her mother and he’s never going to be able to forget that night again.

“Flynn’s parents asked us to take her because they were running late for a dinner reservation they had scheduled months in advance. I hope you don’t mind just us,” the man says with a friendly smile as he reaches his hand out. “I’m Ray Molina and this is my wife, Rose.”

Rose, Trevor thinks as he briefly thinks back on that fateful night. Size beautiful, he can practically see Reggie handing her their band’s t-shirt. He can almost feel Luke leaning his arm against his shoulder and telling her that he’d had a burger for lunch. He didn’t even have to look to know Alex was rolling his eyes at how bad his flirting game was. It was like losing them all over again, only he couldn’t; this was his daughter’s day and he couldn’t wallow in pity. He has to host, so he reaches his trembling hand out and offers the best smile he could offer.

“Hi Ray,” he turns to his wife. “Rose,” he nods and watches as her polite smile fades into a softer one, a genuine one, “I’m Trevor.”

She doesn’t correct him on his name. She doesn’t even look to be affected to be honest, until Trevor leads them inside and she sees some of his awards on the walls. Ray is busy helping to serve the pizza and soda for the girls and it leaves him alone with Rose. She doesn’t mention the award for ‘Now or Never’ new hit single on the Billboard 100 or its being #1 on VH1. Rose doesn’t have to, all she has to do is look at him and Trevor feels himself turning back into the scared kid who showed up at the hospital screaming about his friends. Screaming to the nurses who told him he wasn’t looking for a hospital room, he was looking for the ID numbers of bodies at the morgue. He gives her a slight head shake, as if to plead with her not to bring it up. She nods, but he feels his guilt grow heavier as she leans up to gently smear a line across his name TREVOR WILSON next to the title for up-and-coming artist.

It’s Carrie with her signature giggle and yell that makes them head for the kitchen. “Daddy, can you come sit down! Before we eat we have a surprise!”

They walk in to find Ray sitting amusedly at the dinner table. He beckons them to sit down with him and Trevor can’t help but laugh at the scene in front of him. The girls have obviously gotten into his stage makeup and Carrie, Julie, and Flynn are wearing matching bright red lipstick and glitter on their cheeks. Flynn is sashaying with her boa as Julie holds Carrie’s pink one, and Carrie has her hand on her hip as she strikes a pose before snapping her fingers and triggering the sound system. ‘Barbie Girl’ by Aqua starts blaring in through the speakers and the three adults share a look. Should they turn off the song? It is highly inappropriate. But to do that would mean having to explain why it’s inappropriate and do they really want to ruin a song that as far as their kids are concerned is about Barbie living in her Barbie world?

“Hey!” Carrie yelps and their heads all snap back to the girls pouting at them, “We are trying to give you a concert! Don’t make us waste all of Flynn’s cool moves!”

“Okay okay,” he shakes his head, “Don’t you have more cool moves to show us, Care?”

“No,” his daughter gives him a dead serious face, “we have limited choreography.” She says it with such a puff of dismay and sass that Trevor can’t help but let out the loudest laugh he has in a while. There’s no way Carrie even knows what she’s saying but she must have heard it when he was on the phone with his agent who was arranging his next music video.

The thought pops up before he can squash it, Alex would’ve loved her sass, he would’ve loved to dance with her. But it doesn’t hurt as much, to think of Alex smiling and dancing with glitter everywhere.

It’s not long until Rose and Ray are laughing along too and the three watch the girls spin, twirl, improvise lyrics, and throw their feather boas around long after the pizza has grown cold. - 🌙 (so this is the first bit and each bit shows how I decided to headcanon bobby met the boys in school and remembering them and leads you to rose confronting him and learning about the boys before her death ahhh ok let me know if it’s ok 🙈)

excuse me this is

really good????

more please 😌

[spatort]

I’m at my parents’ house and I have too much time on my hands apparently, so it’s time for a trip down memory lane! More specifically, a trip into the weird world of 1990s for-profit teen idol RPF, such as this beauty:

No, I did not find this at my parents’ house, I bought it second-hand specifically in order to make this post because I’m a person who enjoys studying fan culture in her free time. So, if you’re wondering what the hell the monstrosity pictured above is, and why it exists, don’t worry, I’m about to answer that question extensively.

LONG (AND HOPEFULLY FUN & INTERESTING) POST UNDER THE CUT

Let’s start with a bit of history: In the pre-internet era, fan culture differed from today in a few key regards. Although fanfiction existed, without the internet it was much harder for fans to share their stories with each other. Large fandoms such as Star Trek did have fanzines where fanfic could be printed, but all in all it was a much more niche thing than it is today with millions of fics accessible on AO3.

Fan culture in general, however, was a big thing in the 90s – particularly when it came to pop acts that appealed to teen (and tween) audiences, such as the Backstreet Boys, the Spice Girls, or (mostly in Europe) the Kelly Family. When I was in elementary school, you basically had to pick whether you were a BSB or an NSYNC fan – and god forbid you were a Kelly fan like me, then you were the lowest rung on the social ladder and the target of relentless mockery. Like many German kids in the 90s, me and my sister would religiously read teen magazine BRAVO, cut out every single bit of material about our faves and collect them in folders and self-made fanzines. We created fan art and fanfiction without having words for these things. Without the internet and social media, fans did not have a constant stream of content about their idols, and were left with no other choice but to cling to every bit of information they could find in magazines, on TV shows, or on the radio.

Enter a savvy businessperson who comes up with the perfect merchandise product to sell to these popstar-obsessed teens: fan novels! These books, featuring taglines such as ‘The novel for all Backstreet Boys fans’, typically revolved around a relatable female teenage protagonist who is a fan of the celebrity or music group in question, and usually ends up meeting their idol or, gasp, even becoming romantically involved with them. As far as themes go, they look pretty much exactly like your classic self-insert RPF. Except there is a big difference setting these books apart from ‘actual’ fanfiction: Rather than being written by real fans to express their ‘fannish’ feelings about the subject, fan novels were most likely commissioned works created by professional romance authors purely to profit off of actual fans. There is very little background information available about this ‘genre’, but I did stumble across an academic work on Google Books which featured a passage about these fan novels (translated into English by me):

There are several commissioned works by professional authors, which could be mistaken for fanfiction. Especially in the 1990s, when lots of boy bands were on the market, many books of this kind were published. […] These are fictional stories for fans [redacted].

Jennie Hermann: Backstreet Girl. Projektionsfläche Popstar - Wenn der Fan zum Schriftsteller wird (2009) [Popstar as Projection Surface – When fans become writers]

One of the things I find most intriguing about this type of commercially published fanfiction is the question of personal rights. Obviously, the celebs in question or their management must have consented to using their names in the story, their pictures on the cover and so on – because a profit could be made with this. Especially with the fan debate around RPF allegely being unethical, I wonder if the celebrities themselves were aware someone was writing these stories about them, putting words in their mouth, and if they had any clue what exactly happened in these novels. Now, I’ve read a couple of them in my own youth. Some of them deal mostly with the state of being a fan, e.g. I recall a novel about a girl who is so obsessed with Leonardo Di Caprio that she doesn’t pay attention to real life guys at all, only to learn that her actual dream boy has been in her life all along! This story did not feature Di Caprio himself as a character, it was more about the protagonist’s arc of realizing your idols are not all that matters in life. Others do describe fan encounters with teen idols, and some even feature (hints at) romance with a celebrity. When I decided to purchase a vintage copy of one of these books, I opted for one of the latter category, precisely because of the popular argument that writing romance stories featuring real people is somehow ‘wrong’. For only a couple of euros, I was able to get my hands on a weird and wonderful relic of fan culture: Mein Frühling mit Nick (My spring with Nick) by the likely pseudonymous Maxi Keller, heralded on the book cover as ‘the novel for all fans of the Backstreet Boys’.

The story revolves around 16-year-old musical prodigy and designated wallflower Katharina, who lives in a German small town and cares about nothing else than playing the organ – certainly not about boys, let alone ones that are super-famous American pop stars. This means she is not initially a fan of the Backstreet Boys, which I guess is something of a trope itself – the protagonist meeting a celebrity by chance without knowing who they are and the celeb being thrilled that someone doesn’t just like them for their fame. Anyway, the boys visit Katharina’s hometown while on tour in Germany because band member AJ is doing some research on his German ancestors who happened to live in this very town. Katharina runs into them, she and Nick (who was only 17 himself when this was published in 1997, so it’s legal) fall in love at first sight, she helps them dig up information on AJ’s ancestors and finds out the two of them are related, the boys invite Katharina and her friend Saskia backstage after their show and … nothing happens. The book is 200 pages long and Katharina doesn’t even get one kiss with her boy band sweetheart, even though they mutually crush on each other right away. Perhaps that’s as far as the band or their management agreed for the novel to go – a hint at romance, but no trace of any on-page action, no matter how innocent.

That said, the book is so hilariously poorly written that it was still very entertaining to read. Although I could not find out anything about the author Maxi Keller, and therefore assume this might be a pseudonym, their writing style very much suggests that their are a professional romance author who usually writes for an older audience (plus, the book was published by Bastei Lübbe, who also publish a range of cheap romance novels known as ‘Romanhefte’). The language is extremely flowery at times, and even teenage characters speak with an eloquence that is hardly age-appropriate, with some 90s teen slang peppered in at unfitting times (such as the overuse of the English word ‘girl’). Often the novel loses itself in pointless detail that does nothing to move the plot forward (such as an extensive description of a house party hosted by Saskia’s rich parents, with minute details of their luxurious lifestyle and assets, even though Saskia is only a supporting character in the overall plot). It appears as if the author is desperately trying to fill the pages with meaningless drivel so they don’t need to write too many scenes featuring the presumed main attraction, the boys themselves.

If Keller was indeed merely hired to write this, and is not a fan themselves, one must still admit that the author did their research when it comes to the band. Whereas fanfiction typically assumes that the audience is already familiar with the characters and often skips any introductory descriptions of their appearance or personality, Keller makes sure that even a reader who is completely unfamiliar with the Backstreet Boys can keep up. The author delivers extensive descriptions of the boys’ appearance and demeanor, even spelling out their full names repeatedly, and frequently peppers in ‘fun facts’ such as ‘Kevin was raised on a farm in Kentucky’. While an actual fan might do so to prove how knowledgeable they are, and earning their status as a ‘true fan’, in this case it only seems like Keller really wants to show off how much research they did – as if not a single piece of information they took in must go to waste by not being used in the novel.

When it comes to the question how realistically the non-fannish author replicates the way the boys act and speak, there are two barriers to delivering a well-founded answer: Firstly, I was personally very young when BSB were popular and I really don’t remember too well what each member was like. Secondly, the elephant in the room: the language barrier. All of the aforementioned fan novels were written in German, and the problems posed by writing about an English-speaking band interacting with German OCs (and teenage ones at that) are addressed poorly, if at all. Pretty much all dialogue is written in German, and the audience is left to assume that everyone is actually speaking English whenever the boys are involved – except the novel does nothing to explain why two 16-year-old German girls would be able to express themselves so effortlessly in a foreign language. (Remember, the internet was not a thing, so German kids were not exposed to the same amount of English in everyday life as they are these days.) It would have been easy to make one of them a language nerd who gets straight A’s in English class, and give the other a British parent and make them bilingual. Instead, Katharina initially even worries about the prospect of having to talk to boys at all, and in English on top of that! But when she actually does, the language barrier never comes up again. The suspension of disbelief expected from the reader is therefore immense. The language barrier also gives the author an easy way out when it comes to imitating the way the boys speak in real life – there is no need to take into account idiolects or regional differences (such as ‘you guys’ vs. ‘y’all’) if the boys’ speech is essentially translated into a foreign language. However, I wanted to give you guys (or y’all, if you will) a taste of how Keller attempts to write a scene where AJ and Nick discuss the latter’s crush on Katharina:

I would argue that this sounds realistic enough for what it’s worth, if a little cheesy, which is excusable in this genre. Perhaps a true 90s BSB fan would beg to differ, so if you happen to be one, feel free to drop me a message. But in my semi-professional opinion, this most likely holds up for readers.

So, to answer the initial question that drove me to purchase this book: Do fan novels like Mein Frühling mit Nick count as fanfiction?

If we assume that something is only a fanfic if the author themselves is a fan of the subject matter, then I would argue no, Maxi Keller is probably not a fan themselves and therefore this work of for-profit real-person fiction does not qualify as fanfic. However, fan novels definitely have a (however small) place in the history of fan culture and fan-adjacent works, and I personally found reading this relic both entertaining and insightful!

[prettyyoungandbored]

After Party [’Always There’ sequel]

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Reader

Request: Can you do a sequel to Always There? Reader married Nikki in 1989. They have one child, a daughter born in 1992. Reader’s involved in making the Dirt book and film. Daughter is a fashion model and visits the set one day with her professional hockey player husband and their 1 year old son. Reader’s actress is British and has been dating Douglas Booth since they met on the set of the 2016 movie Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Reader’s actress played Jane Bennett in it

I like the name Hayden Delilah Sixx for the reader and Nikki’s daughter in the sequel to Always There.

In the sequel to Always There, can you have the cast, the band, Hayden and her husband and son, Mick’s wife Seraina Schönenberger, and Vince’s wife Rain Andreani attend the premiere? Tommy’s wife Brittany Furlan is part of the cast. She’s the one who crawls up to Iwan and asks “hey, are you in the band” in the opening scene. Hayden was born a Sixx and changed her last name when she got married. Her son was born in 2018, the year the cast filmed the movie.

Read Always There

A/N: This was a tough one, but I really, really tried. 

Cameras were flashing at the premiere of “The Dirt”. Y/N and Nikki held hands, smiling for the cameras.

They had taken a few group photos with Vince, Tommy and Mick before Nikki and Y/N took theirs together.

It took them years to help write the book, months of pre-production, months of filming, and god knows how long for editing, but here it was. The project was a labor of love and something the couple were happy to do together.

Like everything in their life - music, rehab, family - Y/N and Nikki were in together, side-by-side.

“Y/N!”

Y/N turned to see Violetta Donaghue, the actress who played her in the movie. Violetta waved at her from across the carpet.

Y/N, who served as a co-producer on the movie, was adamant about finding the right actress to portray her. She was just as adamant about making sure the actress and actor playing her and Nikki weren’t milking their relationship on screen. It had to look real and honest.

It was by coincidence that Y/N found Violetta. Y/N was looking at videos of Douglas Booth (after seeing his audition for Nikki on tape) on YouTube when she discovered a video of Douglas and Violetta entitled “Douglas Booth and Violetta Donaghue’s Cutest Moments.”

The two had starred in Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, playing husband and wife. Their chemistry was undeniable, both on and and off screen. It reminded Y/N of her and Nikki back in the day and was hell bent on having the two of them to portray her and Nikki on screen. 

Surprisingly enough, convincing the couple to do it together was fairly easy. Both Violetta and Douglas were excited to work together.

Y/N excused herself from Nikki, leaving him to take pictures with Douglas and the rest of the boys. She made her way to Violetta, wrapping her arms around her.

“Y/N Sixx, congrats on the movie!” the reporter said. “Tell me, how much guidance did you give Violetta in terms of portraying you.”

“Well, we both spent so much time together during the pre-production, like almost every single day, you know, practicing and going over scenes and where my thought process was at that time,” Y/N explained. “Violetta was always asking questions, making sure I felt I was represented properly, which for me was so comforting. I’m extremely grateful to have had her play me. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better.”

Violetta gave Y/N a hug. “I’m gonna fucking cry,” she chuckled.

Y/N threw her head back laughing.

“It’s been such an honor to play a badass, just, fucking incredible woman who rose above everything and made herself the legend she is,” Violetta said. “There are things about her that have inspired me personally and I’m overall extremely lucky to have gotten to play her.”

“Shit now I’m gonna cry,” Y/N laughed.

The two women laughed and Y/N said, “C’mon, let’s get our picture so we can go party.”

She took Violetta’s hand as the two women posed together for the camera before Douglas and Nikki swooped in.

“They want a group photo of us with the actors,” Nikki said

Y/N nodded as she and Violetta joined Nikki, Douglas, Iwan, Mick, Colson, Tommy, and Vince. Daniel, the actor who played Vince, was unable to attend but sent his best.

After a few photos, Nikki leaned in and whispered, “Let’s head inside.”

She nodded when it hit her. “Where’s Hayden and Ashton?”

“She texted me that they’re inside. They didn’t want to do pictures.”

Y/N nodded understandingly as Nikki took her hand and they made their way off the carpet.

Inside the afterparty, Y/N scanned the room for her daughter and son-in-law, finding them off to the side with Brittany Furlan, Tommy’s wife.

Y/N ran over to her daughter, her daughter’s eyes lighting up at the sight of her mom. 

Hayden was Nikki and Y/N’s only child. Nikki and Y/N married in 1989, and waited a few years to have a child. In 1992, Hayden Delilah was born. She had Nikki’s jet black hair and Y/N’s sparkling eyes and smile. She had the wild child look guys dug and girls wanted to be like. It was that same look that made her a successful fashion model, having been the face for Dior, Gucci, and was for a brief time, a Victoria Secret angel.  

 The mother and daughter embraced in a tight hug. 

“I’m so happy you guys came!” Y/N said. 

“Yeah, we’re excited to be here!” Hayden said.  Ashton, Hayden’s husband, came over and gave him mother-in-law a hug. He was a professional hockey player with tousled, dark brown hair,  thick eyebrows and a jawline that could cut someone. He smiled at his mother-in-law, going in for a hug. 

“I was half-expecting you to have a black eye after the last game,” Y/N remarked. 

He laughed. “I was lucky. The other guy, not so much.” 

“So where’s my grandbaby? Where’s Nick?” Y/N inquired. 

“She was showing me pictures and I swear to God, I’m gonna steal that baby,” Brittany interjected. “He has the most beautiful eyes.”

“I know!” Y/N said, putting her hand on Brittany’s shoulder. “Like every time that baby looks at me I just wanna cry. I don’t care how biased I am, he is the cutest baby I’ve ever seen.” 

“Are you guys going to have more?” Brittany asked Hayden and Ashton. 

The couple shrugged. “We’re just enjoying time with him,” Hayden answered. 

“Holy shit!” Colson said as he, Violetta, and Douglas joined them. “Last time I saw you, you were fucking huge.” 

Hayden cackled as she threw her arms around the rapper. Hayden visited set a lot last year while she was pregnant with Nick. She had taken a year off from modeling to enjoy pregnant life and spent time hanging out with her parents on set of “The Dirt”. 

“Can you believe he’s going to be one soon?” Hayden said. 

“He’s gonna be one?!” Violetta exclaimed. “Are you kidding me?! Where has the time gone?” 

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Brittany agreed. 

Y/N let them finish their conversation as she went off to Nikki, who was deep in conversation with Mick and his wife, Seraina.

==========================================

Hours later, Nikki and Y/N watched as Colson and Hayden performed karaoke together. Y/N had her head nestled on Nikki’s shoulder. 

“Douglas said he’s gonna propose to Violetta,” Nikki told her. 

Y/N lifted her head up. “Are you serious? When?” 

He shrugged. “He didn’t say. Just that he was looking at rings. He already got her dad’s permission.” Nikki chuckled and motioned to Ashton, who Tommy currently had in a headlock as Brittany took a photo of them. “Remember when Ashton asked us?” 

She chuckled, the memory playing over in her head. Ashton had managed to get both Y/N and Nikki alone. His nerves were nowhere to be seen, but he was honest and vulnerable about his feelings towards their daughter. It reminded Y/N of how Nikki proposed to her. No drama or over-the-top props - just him laying out his feelings about why he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. 

She turned to face Nikki. “You know how I knew it was real between Douglas and Violetta?” 

“How?” 

“When they were doing the scene of us after we found each other after...you know...” She shook her head. “ I remember after the cameras rolled and Violetta couldn’t stop crying and neither could Douglas...how they clung onto each other. I felt like I was watching us.” 

Nikki smiled, taking her hand in his. “I felt that way throughout filming.” 

Their eyes turned to Douglas and Violetta, who were conversing with Mick, Seraina, Vince, and Vince’s wife Rain Andreani. Douglas’ hand soothingly rubbed up and down Violetta’s back, much like how Nikki had done and still did with Y/N. 

While they were happy to see their love story inspired another couple to live happily ever after together, it was nothing compared to the real thing.

[mulderist]

Wicked Game

Historical AU | Multi-Chapter | read on Ao3 

Washington, D.C - 1948. Fox Mulder is a detective on the top vice unit; scandal, corruption, and lies come with the territory. He is forced to investigate a fellow officer and finds the lies go much deeper than the truth.

@today-in-fic

CHAPTER 1

Spring 1948 Adams Morgan, Washington, DC 2:47 A.M.

My nose burned with each inhale of fumes from the stale booze marinating in the hardwood floor. The room was dim but through the glow of red and blue neon I could make out shapes of furniture; chair legs, a few overturned barstools. It was a step up from a dive but not by much. There was a ringing in my ear like a schoolbell. I forced myself upright and felt a white-hot wave of pain crash into my right shoulder. “Shit.” I exhaled through my teeth and pressed my palm against a sticky wound. For an instant, I was back in that bombed-out jungle in the South Pacific, where an overworked medic from our company feverishly repaired shrapnel damage to my arm.

My fingertips found the bullet hole that punctured the thread count of one of my better dress shirts. Can’t wait to explain this one to my dry cleaner. The round might have gone through cleanly but all I knew was it hurt like a son of a bitch. My holster felt light and I found my gun about three feet away under a table in a puddle of what I hoped was discarded beer. I leaned over to retrieve it then I attempted to stand. Once I got my feet under me I found I was not alone. The bartender had a .38 aimed at my chest and a shaky trigger hand.  

“Don’t move!” he shouted. 

“Easy now,” I began as I put away my weapon and held up my hand, “I’m just reaching for my badge.” As I flipped open the billfold he saw the flash of gold then lowered his gun.

“Jesus detective, I’m sorry I pointed that at you. I’m just a little jittery considering what happened tonight”  I nodded and moved closer towards the bar. “Holy hell, looks like you took a hit,” he continued then splashed a bar rag with some water and handed it to me.   

“Can I get a whiskey?” I asked as I slid on to an empty barstool, trying to clean off my hand. Wouldn’t be nice to get fresh blood on a glass, he’s had enough to deal with tonight. The bartender grabbed a dark bottle and a short glass then gave it a hearty pour. I raised it with my good hand and tipped it back, letting the liquid fire coat the back of my throat. The throb in my shoulder started to dull.

“I called the police as quick as I could,” the bartender told me, “it all happened so fast.”  He poured me another and one for himself. 

“Did you see if anyone else was injured?”

“No. Anyone who was here ran outside. I ducked behind the bar and grabbed my gun. I suppose I should be grateful it happened close to last call.” I sat there thinking for a moment, trying to remember what I was doing there in the first place. A pulsing pain returned to my shoulder. The bartender’s voice entered my ear.

“You should probably get to a hospital, that shoulder looks pretty bad.”

“I’ll manage,” I replied before I finished my second round. I turned to look over my shoulder at the row of small leather booths behind me. Something about it seemed familiar. I could feel my wound oozing again so I pressed the damp rag against it and excused myself to clean up. When I entered the bathroom I was met with an unpleasant discovery.

Detective Jeffrey Spender was dead.  

Thick ribbons of burgundy and cherry red graced the wooden stall door like streamers from some morbid party.  The edge of the sink had a similar splatter pattern staining the porcelain. His body was face down in a puddle that was spreading like the Red Sea, an arm akimbo on the floor, at least one fresh hole in his back. His weapon was kicked across the tile.

When Spender returned from the war with a couple of shiny new medals on his chest, nepotism resulted in his quick promotion to a detective position at the precinct.  I knew Spender’s old man had connections with local law enforcement, not to mention his fellow representatives on The Hill.  And now the golden boy was dead. Tragically killed in the line of duty; that’s how the papers would spin it.

 I bent down to check his gun, one shot fired one in the chamber. It was quick. I moved the bar rag in my hand and gripped Spender’s shoulder, pulling him onto his side. I counted two shots, maybe a third. The acrid smell of iron was weaving its way into my nostrils as I crouched down and leaned closer. First round hit Spender in the right lower abdomen, appeared to be a close range shot based on the size. The gut shot wouldn’t have killed him instantly so the second ripped into the left upper chest to make sure he was taken care of. A third might have conveniently nicked an artery, causing more of the splatter. I craned my neck and saw deep red at Spender’s shirt collar.

It was very sloppy.  

If I heard gunfire I would have gone to investigate and perhaps the assailant ran into me as he exited the bathroom. Did he use a silencer? Why can’t I remember his face?  I shook my head and eased Spender’s body back down on the tile floor. Slowly I rose and caught my reflection in the small mirror over the sink. I looked like hell. As I reentered the main bar the front door gave way to three flatfoots and Captain Walter Skinner.  He advanced and holstered his sidearm.

“Detective Mulder.”

“Sir,” I said wearily with a nod.  He briefly noticed my injury then jumped right into the interrogation.

“What happened?”

“I’m a little foggy on the details but I remember following Detective Spender here.”

“And where exactly is Spender?” Skinner asked. I leaned against a booth and placed a hand on my neck.

“You’ll find him on the bathroom floor.” I saw the captain’s eyes narrow and he brushed past me. He nudged the door open with his elbow and surveyed the fresh crime scene, he then motioned for a uniform and gave instructions. The young cop hastily scratched everything down on a small notepad, tipped his cap, and left through the front door. 

“Did he tell you to meet him?” Skinner asked as he moved in front of me.

“No.”

“How did you know he’d be here?” 

I thought for a moment. Certain details were coming back to me.

“I believe Detective Spender was following up on a lead from a mutual informant. We agreed on a meeting to get info about one of Vincenti’s heroin drops. Spender was impatient and wanted to meet tonight. I wasn’t too keen on the idea.” I winced as I shifted my right arm. The whiskey I had was wearing off. 

“The commissioner is going to demand answers when he finds out Spender was murdered,” Skinner said as he adjusted his glasses.

“Well I’m sure he’s more than eager to crucify me,” I said.  

“Cut the melodrama.” Skinner responded. “I’ll finish up here. Go find Officer Pendrell outside and have him take you over to the hospital. Get patched up, get some sleep, then I want to see you back at the precinct.”

I held up my hands in acceptance and walked to the door, making sure to thank the bartender for the nightcap on my way out.  

Officer Pendrell took a long drag off his cigarette then let it drop on the sidewalk, stubbing it out with the toe of his shoe. I cleared my throat and said, “Captain said you could give me a ride.”

“Jesus Mulder--” he exclaimed with a plume of smoke into the night air.

“I just need some repairs.” I said with a nod to my right arm. “Skinner said you could give me a lift to Washington General.”

“Yeah sure,” Pendrell opened the passenger door for me and as I got situated he entered from the driver’s side. “What happened in there, Mulder?”

“Spender’s dead.” It was blunt but I was exhausted. “Not much else to say, though I’m sure the precinct will hear about it in a few hours.” I could feel Pendrell tense up as we drove. I flexed and opened the fingers on my right hand.  The slight tingling sensation was reassuring that the nerve damage wasn’t permanent. At least that’s what I was telling myself.  

Washington General Hospital

3:55am

Pendrell pulled the squad car up to the emergency department and practically shoved me out the door. Guess he didn’t want me bleeding on government upholstery. I made my way inside and squinted against the harsh lighting.  I spied the petite nurse behind the desk.

“Ma’am,” I began as I fished out my badge and approached, “I’m Detective Fox Mulder and I could use some help.” She rose and quickly walked around then gave me the once over, her fingers delicately reached for my good arm. 

“Let’s get you back, detective. My name is Dana,” she said as she ushered me down a short hallway and into an open room with several beds. I could feel my chest tighten at the sight of the drawn white curtains. Too many bad memories hidden behind those white curtains. A moan came from a shadow on one of the beds and thankfully she sat me down a few beds over. 

“You’ve lost a fair amount of blood. Do you feel dizzy or nauseous?” Dana asked as she pulled out a notepad. I shook my head. “Detective Mulder can I get your date of birth?”

“October 13, 1914.”

I watched her write the numbers down with what I presumed was immaculate handwriting, unlike the doctors she worked under. 

“What happened tonight, detective?”

“I took a hit to the right shoulder, not sure if it was a clean shot. The assailant got away.”

Two fingertips with red nail varnish touched the underside of my wrist and she glanced at a small watch fob, calculating my pulse. I saw her note the result on her notepad before pocketing it. She placed a hand on my shoulder as she reached for a nearby medical tray. It had an array of metal instruments, a basin, some bottles, and what looked like bandages. She slid it closer to the bedside and I straightened my posture. I could feel the fabric of my shirt sticking to the clotted blood on my shoulder. Dana turned to pick up a small stool and place it in front of me. She took a white cloth from the tray and splashed it with a liquid from a brown bottle. 

“Can you remove your shirt?” she asked

“Yeah I can try,” I replied. My left fingers fumbled with the buttons and I forced my right hand to finish the job. I winced then exhaled sharply. 

“Here, let me help.” She said as she placed the cloth down on the tray.

“Usually I’m offered a drink first,” I quiped weakly.

“Well from what I can tell, someone beat me to it.” the redhead said with a grin as she peeled open my shirt. I freed my left arm but hesitated with the right. It looked like I had a few too many and tried to get dressed; sitting there in my white sleeveless shirt with my dress shirt hanging on one arm. Dana reached for the damp cloth and held it on my shoulder, attempting to soften the skin. It was a nice gesture. Any other medic would have just ripped the damn thing off taking a layer of skin with it. I could feel her eyes sweep over my chest like a searchlight looking for damage. She gently stripped down the sleeve and placed the bloody shirt beside me on the bed. Dana leaned me slightly forward.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day Detective. The bullet passed right through.” 

Her bedside manor had won me over. I felt the cool cloth on the back of my shoulder as she cleaned the exit wound.

“You can call me Mulder.”

She playfully inquired, “Why not Fox?” as she sat on the stool in front of me.

“Even though it’s my first name I rarely use it. The Marines made quick work of that.” I saw a hint of a smile as she readied her suture tools. 

“And what’s your last name?” I asked in a feeble attempt at small talk. With a squint she quickly pierced the eye of the needle with a dark thread. 

“Scully,” she said, humoring me. “This will sting a little,” she cautioned. I failed in containing a wince from the all too familiar sensation of thread pulling flesh. Battlefield to back alley, I have scars laid out like a roadmap of my career. She worked quickly, weaving the filament like she was darning socks. I felt a sharp tug as she finished her last stitch. She covered her handiwork with a white bandage.

“Halfway there,” she stated as she stood to fix the back of my shoulder. She might have said something to me but I couldn’t make it out. I hated to admit it but I was transfixed. Her presence was like an anesthetic and I was numb in the best possible way. The final pull for the final stitch. She recited care instructions to me the same way a professor would read from a textbook. I pretended to listen as I opened and closed my right hand once again. She slid the tray aside and I rose to my feet.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, holding up a hand in case I toppled over.

“I’m going back to the precinct.”  I said as I folded my dress shirt over my arm.

“That’s against medical advice. Advice I just gave you. Will you please sit back down?”

“I can’t stay here tonight.”

She folded her arms.

“Is there someone I can call?” she asked. I thought if there was a favor I could collect but no one came to mind. It was probably best for me to sleep it off at my apartment.

“A cab. I’m going home.”  Scully shook her head and led me back down the corridor towards the nurse’s desk. I readjusted my holster across my chest and stretched my left arm. She dialed the operator with one pull on the rotary.  

“Hello, I’d like to request a taxi to Washington General for one of our discharged patients. Thank you.” She hung up the receiver and told me the cab would be here soon. “Be careful out there, Mulder.” 

I smiled and slipped back into my shirt, leaving it unbuttoned.

“Thank you, Scully.” 

She shook her head.

“I don’t know if I’d ever get used to that.” 

I watched her walk down the hall, graceful fingertips smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. She left me with the echo of heels on the hard floor.

I stepped outside the emergency room doors and inhaled an unexpected cloud of tobacco. As I coughed I looked for the source and saw a man, possibly a wino in a white jacket holding a cigarette. He gave me a puzzled look then said in a gravelly voice,

“Hey, are you a cop?”

“A detective actually.” I responded with an annoyed exhale.

“Oh. Well, you look like a cop.”

“Are you a doctor?” I countered. He took a drag.

“No. I found this jacket in the garbage out back.” Before I could respond the vagrant laughed loudly then took off down the alley. On any other night I would have given chase, but I was too tired for additional bullshit. Let the beat cops have him. 

Finally my taxi arrived and I was on my way home.

[silverware-and-glasses]

Legitimacy Chapter Eleven is up!

In which the plot doth thicken

Read from the beginning here or just this chapter after the cut.

Legitimacy (21411 words) by silverware_and_glasses 

Chapters: 11/? 

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler 

Rating: Mature 

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply 

Relationships: Ronald Knox/Sebastian Michaelis 

Characters: Ronald Knox, Sebastian Michaelis, Ciel Phantomhive, William T. Spears Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, Relationship(s), Eventual Romance, Sexual Content, Supernatural Elements, Team Up, Rare Pairings 

Summary: After his failures during the Campania incident, Ronald Knox is sent to investigate Sebastian’s involvement in a string of murders across London. He soon discovers that Sebastian and his master are also investigating the case, unaware that they are involved. The two parties reluctantly team up to discover the truth.

According to the case files—which Sebastian had relieved Scotland Yard of when no one was looking—Miss Byron’s study had been thoroughly combed over after her body had been found inside. The rest of her manor had naturally also been searched, but Ciel voiced his lack of faith in the Yard’s abilities so many times that Ronald was ready to tear the house down brick by brick just to shut him up. They didn’t have the information from Byron’s maid, Ciel had explained, there was every chance they’d missed evidence, especially if they didn’t know to concentrate on her brother’s disused bedroom.  

“Besides,” he continued, “They don’t have Sebastian’s eyes.”

Miss Byron kept her home in far better nick than her brother. The garden was neat and only  overgrown to a level one would expect when the lady of the estate was quite dead. However, by Sebastian’s standards this was nothing short of obscene. He glanced at a minuscule weed and wrinkled his nose.

They had no key– no one had given them permission to be there. But even from outside, Ronald could tell the house was empty. The door itself was no obstacle. Sebastian tried it first and it swung open without any resistance.

“How careless,” he mused, with an amused lilt to his voice. Ronald had a sneaking suspicion it hadn’t been unlocked until his demon hands had touched it.

The entry hall was gloomy and stuffed with the thick musk of an unoccupied room. Their footsteps clicked loudly as they approached the staircase, the sound somehow magnified in the unoccupied house. If someone else was here they would have easily heard them. But there was no one, not even staff. The heavy weight of death lingered in the very walls of the manor.

“Where is Mr. Byron’s old room Sebastian?” Ciel asked.

Sebastian closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he opened them again they glowed for a moment, his demonic power barely contained. “This way,” was all he said before he led them up the stairs and down the corridor to the left. How Sebastian knew which room it was by scent alone Ronald wasn’t certain, but he found himself irritatingly impressed by the feat.

“You ever use him to hunt for truffles?”

Ciel huffed a laugh, “I knew it would be worth keeping you around.”

“I’ll have you know I found truffles growing near the manor just last week,” Sebastian chimed in, “I believe you sampled them the other night.”

“Sounds like you’re quite the truffle hunter then.”

“Among other things,” Sebastian said with a glimmer of pride.

For a moment they allowed Sebastian to savour his moment in the sun, but then Ciel snapped the curtains shut. “He’s calling you a pig, Sebastian.”

A click of his tongue was the only indication of Sebastian’s displeasure, but he fell silent after that. Damn. Ronald would’ve drawn out his goading for as long as he could if it weren’t for Ciel. Not that he had long to dwell on it. They soon arrived at the bedroom in question. Sebastian opened the door, then ushered Ciel and Ronald in ahead of him.

The room was familiar somehow, although Ronald couldn’t place why. There was nothing memorable about it; it was nothing more than your standard stately bedroom, covered all over in blue wallpaper and furnished with what had become antique furniture since the last time it had been used.

And yet, for all its years of disuse, the room was free of dust. Ronald ran his finger over the table and marvelled at how it came away clean. Miss Byron must have employed some bloody efficient servants if they kept an unused room so spotless. Ronald turned to ask Sebastian his thoughts, but found he hadn’t followed them in. Instead he hesitated at the doorway, looking uneasily—almost fearfully—around the room, as though he was trying to locate something neither Ronald nor Ciel knew how to look for.

“What are you doing?” Ciel asked. There was no concern in his voice, only irritation at Sebastian’s deviation from the norm.

“I don’t like it,” Sebastian said.

“Don’t like what?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. His brows scrunched, his placid expression gone. “Something happened here.”

“Can you be more specific?” Ronald asked. Sebastian shot him a glare and took a tentative step past the room’s threshold. He was breathing heavily, shoulders hunched slightly in contrast to his usual perfect posture. Ronald hadn’t even been aware that Sebastian needed to breathe. He still suspected he didn’t. Always the dramatist was Sebastian.

“The room’s been warded,” Sebastian said.

Ciel and Ronald both stared blankly.

“It’s a protection against my kind. It’s weak. Whoever cast it did so long enough ago that the immediate effect has worn off but…” He winced, a flash of canines poking out of his grimace, “it lingers.”

Ciel was apparently already bored. He began searching though an empty chest of draws for any evidence. However, something about his countenance made him look like a cat deliberately ignoring an overly affectionate human. No matter how he tried to hide the truth, he was clearly concerned about Sebastian.

“How does one make a ward?” Ciel asked without turning around.

“I’d rather you didn’t get any ideas,” Sebastian said. He took another shaking step into the room and tried to investigate as though he were unaffected. He really did always have a tendency to power through these sorts of things. Ronald remembered that night on the Campania and how Sebastian had still defeated him while he should have been incapacitated by his injuries. For him to be this weak now… was it a farce or did the lingering effects of the ward really have this much power over him?

“Is something the matter Knox?”

“No, it’s nothing.” Ronald spun around so that he wouldn’t be tempted to keep watching Sebastian’s struggle. Instead he busied himself by peering under a desk. There was nothing there, of course. It was more a distraction than anything. He was about to stand up again when something on the wood caught his eye. It was a slight white mark, half on the carpet and half on the desk’s wooden leg. Ronald craned for a closer look.

And suddenly Sebastian was at his side, one hand bracing himself on Ronald’s arm as he peered over his shoulder. Two days ago Ronald would have cried out in alarm over this surprise contact, but after being constantly on edge since starting his investigation, the most he did was flinch.

“What have you found?”

“I don’t know,” Ronald admitted, “It looks like white dust.”

Sebastian prodded the mark with a long finger, then examined it close to his face. Ronald couldn’t see a thing against the white fabric of Sebastian’s glove, but apparently Sebastian could see it just fine.

“It’s chalk,” he said.

“Why would there be chalk there?” Ronald asked.

“Perhaps Mister Byron enjoyed hopscotch,” Sebastian said dryly, wiping the dust from his fingers. He stood up again and sniffed at the air, frowning. Then he darted across the room and, while somehow remaining perfectly graceful, dropped to his hands and knees and shoved his head in the fireplace. Ciel didn’t seem to think this at all unusual.

“Blood,” Sebastian said suddenly, his voice echoing into the chimney.  

“Could you maybe share what you’ve found with the class?” Ciel drawled.

Sebastian emerged again. The tips of his fringe had turned grey in patches from the soot. “There are blood splatters in the fireplace. Ciel craned a look. “There, in the corner.”

“I can’t see it.”

“For someone with such large eyes I’d expect you’d see more,” Sebastian said. Then, upon seeing Ciel’s displeasure he added, “I jest. You’re only human, and there isn’t much left. No doubt whoever cleaned the rest of it didn’t catch these last drops. I suppose they had human eyes too.”

“The rest of it?”

Sebastian clicked in Ronald’s direction. “Knox, do you have access to the photographs you showed us before?”

Ronald frowned. He conjured his case file and flipped through it, scanning the catalogued murder scenes for the photograph in question. He knew exactly which one Sebastian meant the second he flicked to it. The photograph one of his colleagues had taken at the scene of Shelly Byron’s death, it wasn’t taken in the study where her body was found. It was this room. She’d died here.

Well that explained the chalk, even if it did bring up an array of other questions. Ronald tilted his head to get a better look at the botched summoning attempt. It was hard to make out much of the summoning circle beneath the blood splatter. No mere knife to the heart could have caused such a tremendous eruption of blood. Nothing natural could have. It was no wonder some had made its way into the fireplace.

Ronald handed the photograph over, but Sebastian hardly needed to glance at it before he explained the discovery to his master. If Miss Byron had been moved there was every possibility the other victims had been too, which also meant there were whole droves of evidence the Yard could have missed.

But Ronald didn’t care about catching the killer, that was something the living could sort out amongst themselves. He already knew the name of the killer—hell, he’d been in the killer’s home—what he cared about was why they were summoning demons and how on Earth that was going to play out. From his experience, no case involving demons ended cleanly.

“What I don’t understand,” Ronald said, “Is why anyone would put up a ward if they were summoning a demon.”

“Maybe they changed their mind,” Sebastian suggested.

“After their third attempt?”

“Well…”

“Maybe the wrong demon came though,” Ciel said quietly. Sebastian stilled at the suggestion, the unsaid implication hanging thickly in the air around them.

The spread of the blood. Ronald snatched the photo back and studied it intently. It didn’t look like it had been caused by natural means because it hadn’t. The killer had managed to summon a demon. And then what? He’d cast a ward, whatever that meant. Ronald didn’t know for sure, but judging by Sebastian’s response he suspected it didn’t merely banish a demon.

The wrong demon…

If there was a wrong demon, there had to be a right one. And then it clicked. The circle, the consistency, the errors. Ronald’s assignment to watch the Phantomhive manor. There was a connection after all.

The murderer wasn’t trying to summon a demon with some random circle design they’d stumbled upon.

They wanted Sebastian specifically.

And they were about to kill again.

[taebadam]

act two pt. 1:

act twooooooo. we start w hands clean (this ensemble wowwowwowowow) and the stage opens to bella and andrew on either side of nick, all staring out into the audience. a few moments later jo and frankie come in from stage right and stand on either side of bella, comforting her and staying by her side as they walk off stage. honestly, i love how bella is rarely alone in all of this, jo and frankie are always there for her it’s really sweet.

as they all leave we transition to a psychologist’s office where steve and mj are getting ready to meet w the doctor. cue not the doctor. so good. so funny. so clever. when yana comes up behind them as the doctor and announces “hello i am the doctor” it’s just so perfect. then comes the therapy session. the whole time steve is emotional and desperate trying to get through to mj and figure out what’s wrong he’s just so concerned and mj is just so completely closed off: body language, speech and all. she does not want to be there. she does mention her car accident, though, and the doctor comments that physical trauma can awaken past trauma, even sexual trauma (hint hint see the predator theme from forgiven…). mj immediately tries to deny this and steve just doesn’t know what to do. there is a funny line though where the doctor asks if steve would describe himself as the high-libido partner and steve responds “i would describe myself as a puppy under the table begging for scraps… and getting kicked in the head w a loafer” and mj goes “these are not loafers these are drivers” and it’s so funny. but eventually the doctor asks if mj has always been reluctant to have sex and steve says no, that “they were great once. remember?” cue head over feet. frankie and phoenix peek out from behind the panels on either side of the stage while mj and steve are still in the center as the song starts. eventually the couples switch places as the song grows and the swingset replaces the doctor’s office for frankie and phoenix to climb on while they sing. the song ends with them in frankie’s room, about to have sex. as they start taking each other’s clothes off jo enters from the side, singing your house (wow i love lauren patten her voice i just ahhhhhhhh). all of your house is acapella and lauren patten is just honestly a freak of nature. she walks into frankie’s room and catches them in the middle of having sex, running out and trying to hide the fact that she’s crying as frankie calls after her. she runs downstairs as mj and steve come home and announces that frankie has been having sex w a boy upstairs. she breaks the tension w one of my favorite lines “he was wearing dog tags w no shirt like a douche!” then steve calls her joanne before running upstairs. as he and mj leave she stops for a moment and says, her voice small, shaking and cracking a little and with a hint of just utter devastation “please don’t call me joanne.” she then returns to her usual funny self though and yells “i’m not a fucking fabric store!” before exiting the stage. again, just beautiful acting from lauren. the face jo puts on only breaks for a second but wow is it like a punch in the gut. it breaks me every time.

ok so you know how in theaters there are poles/scaffolding on either side of the stage where they hang lights and speakers and things? yeah. so steve and mj run into frankie’s room and phoenix can be seen literally climbing down said scaffolding w no shirt or pants on, trying desperately not to drop his clothes. steve comments about frankie’s friend “running down the sidewalk w his pants falling down” as phoenix stumbles through the audience just trying his best. it is so fucking funny. but then mj and steve start berating frankie. they say she’s too young to be having sex “especially w a boy she just met” and frankie responds “what if it was with a girl? i’m bisexual, did you know that?” and steve’s like “wow ok” and it’s hilarious cause clearly he’s like not upset w this and would want to talk about it more but also there’s another issue at hand and this poor dude is like idk what to do. meanwhile mj just keeps going on about how frankie shouldn’t be doing this and frankie goes “you don’t care about the situation w bella but as soon as i choose to have sex w someone i care about it’s a crime?” and mj goes “don’t even get me started in the situation w bella. if youre not careful frankie the same thing could happen to you.” silence. a few gasps in the audience. frankie slowly stands up and pushes mj away “you don’t get it.” she says, devastated, and begins packing a bag. they ask her what she’s doing, she says it’s none of their business and they say it is because they’re her parents. she yells “you are not my parents! look at me. you don’t own me just because you have a paper in a file folder somewhere. you thought you could straighten my hair and raise me around white kids and i would turn out like you. well i’mglad i didn’t. i don’t want o be like you.” she rushes off and steve and mj yell at each other in anger, mj blaming him as the workaholic who was never around and steve trying to get through to her and say that maybe they made some mistakes when raising frankie and they should try to listen to her. to no avail.

cut to unprodigal daughter. frankie is on a train to new york and her and the ensemble just completely rock out. she has her moment, finally free of all the pain and stress of home. she’s carefree and happy, dancing her heart out. OH WOW THE CHOREOGRAPHY HERE HOLY SHIT. also her voice. wowowow. so good. at the end, they do a lift w frankie that’s the EXACT SAME LIFT as they did w ebony (her double) back in all i really want. so good. after the song she calls phoenix, trying to get him to come to new york w her. she tells phoenix she loves him and he can’t say it back, he tries to explain that he really likes her he’s just not ready to say he loves her yet but frankie hangs up on him, heartbroken.

there’s a mini transition scene where all of the ensemble are on their phones saying horrible things about bella like that she’s only doing this for the money and that she’s just trying to get attention. at the end they all silently hold out their phone screens to the audience and walk off without a word. wow.

the next scene bella walks into the healy house, looking for nick. instead the finds mj in the kitchen and they talk. mj says she heard about what happened and says she understands how bella feels. bella says she doubts that and mj says that she’s experienced the same thing before, but that “we have to be strong and accept our mistakes.” she’s trying to smile, act like everything is ok. it’s a call back to her line in forgiven after she discusses her assault, where she says “i kept going i powered through.” bella looks at her for a moment and asks, “when did you start to feel better?” she pauses and her voice breaks as she begins to cry “how long did it take? tell me when i’m gonna feel normal again.” silence. mj doesn’t have an answer. “great.” bella says and leaves. nick comes in right after she goes and tells mj the police called, that he thinks he should say something about what he saw. mj immediately shuts him down, tells him to stay out of it for fear of him losing his reputation or, worse, his acceptance to harvard. he stops and says “i need to tell you what i saw that night.” cue predator.

this song is haunting. truly. it begins with that chilling theme and you just know what’s coming and all the times that theme came in during the first act start to come together and it dawns on you and just. wow. we go back to the night of the party, but this time from bella’s point of view. we now see everything andrew does so, so clearly and we’re left thinking: how did we not notice this before? the truth is each of us probably did notice something, something small. but we’ve been conditioned to ignore it, see it as normal, something that “just happens sometimes.” and it’s really a punch to the gut when you realize what you did, how you were a bystander who didn’t notice the signs that were right in front of your face. i have never seen a piece of art or media so successfully throw viewers into this mindset, truly showing us how easy it is to be passive and complicit. we can’t judge nick really. we can’t think “how could he not see something was wrong? how could he not say anything?” because we did it too. we see andrew give her drink after drink, pull her away from her friends and guide her as he pleases. about halfway through the song, however, bella steps away from the party scene to sing at the side and who replaces her? HEATHER. MJ’S BODY DOUBLE. heather takes her place in her same outfit and begins a truly mesmerizing choreography that has her falling around the stage, being pulled and lifted and tossed around by the ensemble like she has no control over her body, no control over her actions. the panels begin to move in as we get closer to the final chorus and eventually they open up to reveal a bed standing upright (like we’re looking down on it) with the party still raging behind and bella steps over and leans back on the bed as she hits her big note going into the climax of the song. she lays there on the bed, immobilized, singing in despair as andrew slowly approaches her while the panels around her show the images that were taken at the party which frankie and jo mentioned in the first act. then, as the chorus come to an end, andrew removes her from the bed and brings her to the floor. it’s at this point that a few things come together and let me tell you: i gasped. first, we notice we’re now witnessing the rape. bella is unconscious and andrew is beginning to undress her. second, it’s at this moment nick comes out from behind a panel, revealing not only that he saw how drunk bella was, but that he saw andrew beginning to rape her and did nothing. third is that as bella is removed from the bed who takes her place? mj. mj takes the exact same position that bella was in, watching the assault on the floor below her in horror. and finally, the final punch to the whole scene, is that as the song comes to a close the panels cover the photos of bella once again for just a moment and when they move away, what’s left beneath are no longer pictures of bella. they’re pictures of mj. in the same position. just. heart-wrenching.

after the song we see mj really start to break down. she yells at nick, asking why he didn’t do anything, asking if he “forgot she (bella) was a human being.” nick is devastated and mj is just barely holding it together. truly stunning. but even still mj tells nick he still can’t say anything. she doesn’t want him to get in trouble, and losing her perfect son is still central in her mind.

[okietrish]

Darling. Chapter 1.

This is chapter one of a fic I’ve been messing around with lately. I’m obsessed with it already and have many MANY ideas and theories in mind for how this could go. I’m proud of this. Please enjoy and LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.

I love you all, thank you for you kindness and support.

Please enjoy.

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Your morning started out with the usual blasting alarm sending you quickly into the normal routine. You know the drill, it begins with an exasperated groan, then you get up and get dressed, makeup, hair, the usual “simplistic but kinda trying” look. After you’re finished, undoubtedly rushing after procrastinating on the internet for far too long, you get picked up and head to your interview of the day to talk about your new single and what you have in store. The fact that this is normal now, mind boggling, but normal... Extremely new, but this is what your life has become. Writing music, playing music, talking about music, and you get paid to do it! The thought alone brings butterflies into your stomach. This is all you’ve wanted for so long.

The drive to the radio studio was simple, an iced coffee was placed in your hands to perk you up; the sheer excitement coursing through your veins was enough for you to get going, but turning down a coffee is sacrilegious, so you accepted the caffeine kick with a smile. You were giddy, to put simply, there’s no other way to describe it. 

Being guided through places like this, a very professional environment in the center of the music world, was always fascinating. The walls were lined with pictures of rock legend after rock legend, you couldn’t help but gawk as you walked by. The people you idolized staring down at you judging as to why you’re walking the same walls as they once did, intimidating. They most likely have sat where you are about to sit. Your ass will be where many rock god’s asses have sat before. Giggling aloud at the thought caused a few people in front of you to turn around with a questioning look. You shrugged it off and continued to appreciate the intimidating place around you, trying to forget how crazy you seemed for giggling at the walls...

The room you were placed in was set up with two large desks pressed against each other creating a giant table in the middle of the room. Chairs were littered among the many sides, microphones stretched out like tree limbs, one landing right in front of the seat you were instructed to sit in. The large, two monitor computer faced away from you. The walls were lined with sound buffering fixtures and small trinkets and decorations. You only felt at home in this room. An apparent ease washed over the room as James, the man who was interviewing you, walked in and greeted you and the room of people. 

James, a kind man much older than yourself, most likely in his mid 60’s, was a rock fanatic who was well listened to across the country. A man well respected all around; his opinion was impressionable. Without any hesitation James eased right into the interview by welcoming the listeners and introducing you with passion and a shocking amount of energy for 8am.

“Good morning Los Angeles! You’re listening to 98.5; a rock station for old ears.Today we have an up and coming artist, one of my personal favorites in the scene right now. She has a single out now called “Exposition of a Lonely Man,” which we will listen to in a little bit. It’s a psychedelic vibe, sounds as if Janis Joplin and Stevie Nicks had a love child and it produced a song. This is the wonderful and very talented Y/N Y/L/N. Good morning Y/N, how are you feeling today?”

“Morning James! I’m feeling wonderful, you’re throwing me some very kind compliments plus I’ve got a coffee, so I can’t complain much.” You couldn’t help but smile at the realization of what’s going on. As you leaned into the microphone more you discovered the faint smell of lavender filling the room, it was naturally calming.

“Coffee is the key to my heart! Now Y/N you’re fairly new in the public eye, so let’s get some background info. You have a sound to your voice that is, well, seemingly archaic these days, and yet you’re only 20 years old, what influenced that?” James looked at you kindly, evident in how much he loved his job and took pride in his skills. His smile brought a sincerity to the conversation, like you were talking to an old friend, confiding in a loved one.

“Being completely honest, and I’m slightly ashamed to say it, I grew up listening to bubble gum, pop 40’s junk...” James’ jaw physically dropped in shock.

“What?! How does that make any sense?” He laughed as he spoke. Conversation was seemingly effortless for him. You noticed he picked a good career.

“I know, I know. And I loved it too...” You laughed along. “I can pinpoint the exact time where my love for ‘good’ music blossomed. I was 12, in the car with my dad when he finally got fed up with my pop B.S. He demanded to have the aux cord. I complained, but quickly shut up when he played this long, chaotic song that I was having a hard time keeping up with. I remember thinking ‘how does he know all of these words?! This is insane!’ That song ended up Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen!” You laughed at the memory, how seemingly ridiculous it sounds to not know anything about rock music, specifically the arguably most well known song in history. You took a deep breath before watching James intently as he laughed.

“That’s amazing! So did you both just start listening to old music? How did it develop after that?” James was obviously intrigued by the odd beginnings of your life. You continued with a nostalgic smile.

“It became our thing, ya know? Every time we got in the car he would play different artists ranging from Queen, The Beatles, Sinatra, The Temptations, he even had a crush on miss Etta James! We would play this game, he would play a song and I had to guess who was singing, then we would switch and he would have to guess. My dad was a lovely man who had a passion for music and the history of rock and roll. He didn’t play any instruments, but he sang at the top of his lungs with passion and love. My musical ear began because of him. I owe a lot to him.” 

The smile you showed was genuine, though the memories of your dad still ripped a whole in your heart. No matter how much time has past, losing him was the worst thing to have ever happened to you; two years felt like it lasted a lifetime, but only five minutes at the same time. He was the most important person in your life, your confidant. Life without him was normal now, human beings are creatures of inept adaptation skills, so you got use to it. It’s bizarre to think about, but it’s how life works.

You continued talking to James about your double EP that was going to be released in a week’s time. You spoke with passion and electricity while describing your life’s work and the meaning behind it all. The fire within you was enchanting. Music was the reason you lived. It is everything you do, everything you think, you’re even convinced your breathing pattern has a good rhythm to it.

Interviews were some of your favorite part of the whole music industry ordeal. Getting to discuss your dictations, other artists you adore, and being able to just sit for a few minutes and sit in the success you’ve made for yourself was always a breath of relief. 

Signing off of the interview, you said goodbye to the listeners and to Jame’s as well, quickly followed by a genuine goodbye off the record.

“Y/N thank you so much for coming in, you’re a kind soul. You’re not just honest in your music, you were so open with everything. You’ll make it far kid, no doubt.” James gave you a quick hug. He reminded you of Santa Claus a bit, his rosy cheeks were quite the contrast to his stark white hair and stubble. What an adorable old rock enthusiast.

“Thank you, that means so much. And thank you for having me, It was so much fun!” You spoke with him for a few more moments before getting called away by your manager Chelsea. With a final goodbye you found yourself walking quickly through the maze of hallways once again. The rock legends staring at you from the walls seemed to have a softer look to them now, perhaps they welcomed you into their exclusive club of wretched rock history shenanigans after your interview. You smiled at the thought of being a rock star, but just singing was enough for you. The idea of actually having music out there in the world, having an effect on other people’s lives, it made you nauseous in the most exhilarating way.  

Pulling you out of your thoughts, a fresh iced coffee was placed in your hands as Chelsea began her daily speech. 

“Okay Y/N we have one more interview across town in about 2 hours and then you’re done for the day. I know you’re friend Matt is throwing a party tonight, just please be careful and mind what you post.” 

You stared at her as you sat down into the backseat of a black Ford Explorer, shocked by the lack of expectations coming from the trusting New Yorker sliding in next you you.

“Mind what I post? What do you think I’m going to do Chels? Get on his kitchen counter and flash the room?” You snorted a laugh at the idea. Quickly cut off by Chelsea snapped her head in your direction giving you a wide eyed look? 

“Really? Like that is so unlike you?” She laughed as she continued to glare at you. Your cheeks perked up as you smile seemed to take up your entire face.

“You’re right, sounds like something I would do...” The cackling from the backseat was uncontrollable now. Chelsea was 27, a little older than you, but much more like a sister than anything else. She was kind, knowledgeable, but most importantly didn’t put up with your bullshit. It was a lovely friendship.

Chelsea took a deep breath before beginning again as the car began to drive through the streets of L.A.  “Also, I have a phone meeting tonight with potential tour options for you.” She smiled proudly at your shocked look. “And before you even ask, I’m keeping it to myself for now. It’s a late meeting due to time zones, but I’ll call you as soon as I can if I hear anything worth sharing.” You stuck your pinky out for her to grab, an undeniable childish way to stick to your word, but it was a habit you couldn’t break. 

Chelsea grabbed your pinky smiling at your confusing nature. An old essence of life radiated from you; an old soul was the basic way to describe your mantra, but it was far more complex than that. You carried yourself with strife that was disassociated with people your age, but at the same time you did things like make pinky promises in the backseat of a car while sitting with your legs crossed and having the childish smile plastered on your face. The balance between innocence and spirituality was enticing.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matt’s party was in full swing. All of your friends were here, the four of them sticking to one corner in the massive house, your small circle stagnant is the chaos. Nonetheless, the house was full. Alcohol was flying into shot glasses, people forgetting their lives for a few hours, apparently forgetting their limitations as well. 

You were feeling good, properly drunk, but still very much in control. Music was blasting through the speakers, though muted by all the noise coming from the mass crowd of young adults. A few hours had passed since you first arrived. Matt was sprinting around like a mad man attempting to keep some sort of organization in this madhouse. He was a loud guy who loved everyone, a perfect host for a memorable party, or a black out party depending on what road you chose for the night! 

You were sitting on your Jack and Dr. Pepper combo while talking with your friend Em when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You quickly glanced down at the name, trying not to be rude to Em while she told you all about the girl she is talking to and apparently in love with. When Chelsea’s name showed up you had to excuse yourself.

“Em I’m so sorry! This is my manager and I have to take it. Excuse me.” Em smiled at you and gestured that it was fine. You began to quickly move through the crowd, bumping into what seemed like every single person; maybe you were drunker than you thought. After moments of being lost in the forest of tall college boys you finally made it outside. It was quiet in the backyard, a few people gathered around a fire, but nothing too distracting, so you accepted the call.

“Chelsea! What’s up bitch!” You screamed into the phone while pulling some surfer/LA local accent. A giggle suppressed from the other end of the call.

“Jesus Christ Y/N. Sounds like your having a good time!” There wasn’t any judgement in her voice, only amusement.

“Of course darling, I know how to party. Anyways, what’s up? Why are you calling at...” you pulled the phone away from your ear to check the time, “...1:00 AM? Woah! How is it one already?! That’s crazy.” You trailed off immediately forgetting what you were even going on about. Chelsea caught on to your drifting mind. 

“Okay. Y/N. I have good news. You know the band Greta Van Fleet?”

You scoffed at her question, suddenly becoming extremely sassy, “Do I know about Greta Van Fleet... psshhhhh.” You continued to babble, your New York accent coming out in your quick words. “Girl I talk to you about them all the time! We stan Greta in this house bitch. Iconic legends with that good hair... Becky with the good hair... WATERMELON!” 

“Fucking hell Y/N stop babbling!” She snapped at you, obviously suppressing her laughs at this, or at least what was suppose to be, business call.

“My bad. Okay, but Chels why are you asking me about Greta right now? Did you call to fangirl?” Genuine confusion flooded your mind as you began walking along the side of Matt’s pool. It was nice out, a cool brisk breeze was cooling down your Alcohol induced heat.

“Y/N I just got off the phone with their management...” she drifted off towards the end, waiting for you to cue in.

“Okay, how was that?” You asked, more confused than before. You slurped the end of your drink, obnoxiously shifting the ice around at the bottom in attempts to get every last drop.

“Fucks sake. You’re going on tour Y/N. Greta wants you to open for them for 2 months. If it works out well, then they will sign you for longer.” She was yelling into the phone at this point.

A numb feeling rushed through your body quicker than anything you’ve ever experienced. The red cup previously holding your liquid crutch was discarded to the ground, forgotten about completely. You began pacing even quicker, grabbing your hair in attempts to ground out self in some way.

“Jesus Christ.... oh fuck. ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” You were shouting now too, distracting the people around the fire from the joint they were passing around.

“Yes. Completely serious. You’re going on tour with Greta Van Fleet!” She screeched into the phone, obviously excited about the whole ordeal as well.

“Chelsea they are a real rock band! They have the stage lights and the tight jeans and the screaming fans and mysterious ways about them! How am I suppose... how did I... WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?!” You were shifting your feet back and forth, some sort of happy dance naturally possessing your limbs.

“Y/N I love you, alright? I’m so beyond proud of you. I’ll talk to you more about this tomorrow Okay? I just wanted to tell you tonight. Have a safe night, call me when you wake up?” You smiled even wider at her words.

“Alright. Okay. Ummm thank you? Thank you for this. This is amazing. Absolutely sick. I’ll call you in the morning! Jesus Christ... Okay. I love you, bye!”

“Bye!”

To say you were a bumbling mess was an understatement. The news you waited for arrived. A tour, you were going on fucking tour! A tour with a band you idolized and admired. Your shock faded a bit as pride took over. Music was the one thing in life that you made for yourself, an industry you ventured into alone after your dad’s death. You did this. 

You shoved your phone back into your back pocket, picked up your discarded solo cup, and sprinted into the house. Slamming the sliding glass door drawing attention to yourself by both your friends and the strangers scattered around the room. There was a quick pause in conversation as all eyes turned to you.

You took a deep breath before making eye contact with Matt from across the room, a look of concern present on his face. You broke out into a giant grin before shouting at the top of your lungs.

“I’M GOING ON TOUR BITCHES!!!” Matt looked at you in shock and began sprinting towards you. Your other friends escaped from the corner of the room and ran as well. Matt grabbed you by the waist, picking you up and pulling you into a death grip of a hug. Everyone cheers surrounded you. Friends, strangers, some folks who just walked into the party and had no idea what the hell was going on, they all cheered and poured some drinks. Any excuse to drink right? Except this was the start of something insane. 

You looked around at everyone who were still buzzing with energy. The bottle of Jack Daniels was passed to you. Taking a giant swig from the bottle, you lifted it into the air and screamed out in a mix of excitement, terror, nervousness, but mostly happiness. You’re life was changing, you felt the shift in the air during the rest of the night. This is it. The rest of your life is beginning.

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Tag list (to be added just shoot me a message!):

@dontumisfire

@myownparadise96

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Thank you for reading! I appreciate and love all of you!

-Trish

[paradisobound]

Sail Away With Me: Part 3

Summary: It was a fluke. Dan shouldn’t have ever gone with Sam to a party on a yacht. He shouldn’t have trusted her to go. But in a chance encounter, he ends up in bed with Phil Lester, a billionaire CEO of a luxury clothing company. When he thinks he’s screwed up enough, he realizes he’s in way too deep. Because Phil Lester has fallen in love with him. The catch: Dan gave Phil a fake name and all Phil has to remember Dan by is the tattoo on his hip and the necklace he left behind.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: A semi-explicit sex scene between Dan and another male

Pairing: Instagraminfluencer!dan and CEO!Phil

This is a chaptered work. Updates every Saturday around 1pm EST

**MASTERLIST | ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN | WATTPAD**

DAN POV 

“I got an email from a company called Luxor.” 

The breeze is blowing through Dan’s curls as he pushes his hand through them and shuffled them a bit on top of his head. They were sat on the balcony just outside of Sam’s room, overlooking the coast. The mist from the water kept kissing his skin, leaving his cheeks a bit dewey. 

Sam looks up at him, tucking a stray strand of her wavy red hair behind her ear. She’s wearing her glasses this morning and although Dan’s seen her with them often, he knows that if she were to be photographed like that right now, she would definitely be seen as ‘over-casual’. But truth was Sam was nearly blind. 

She wraps her lanky arms around her knees and draws them closer to her chest as her shorts ride up her thighs a bit. She sniffles a bit and wipes at her nose before finally opening her mouth to say something to Dan. 

“Not impressive.” 

“Oh?” 

Sam shrugs again and lets her feet down from the edge of the chair, putting them on the floor. “Luxor is just another stereotypical clothing brand.” 

“But the email seems promising.” 

Dan scrolled a bit further down the email where they said they would love to meet up with him at their London office to talk about negotiations for a potential contract deal between them. To say Dan was intrigued was an understatement. He was used to companies reaching out to him for his large Instagram presence but he often doesn’t get anything that pays him anywhere near what Luxor would probably pay him. 

He lets out a sigh and looks back out at the coast. In the distance, he can see boats of all kinds: yachts, sail boats, everything. Dan takes in a deep breath, holds it, and then lets it go as he relaxes his shoulders. 

He’s actually feeling pretty lucky that he wasn’t too hungover this morning. He definitely cannot say the same for Sam who currently looked like death ran over her twice but he can at least say he’s feeling better. 

Although, the tinge in his backside was definitely an indication of his night last night. He wouldn’t even be entirely sure that the night was real if it wasn’t for that light ache in his lower back. If he closes his eyes, he can still feel everything and it makes his skin tingle. 

“It’s up to you,” Sam says, drumming her fingers against the side of her chair. Her finger nails made a pleasing yet slightly obnoxious clicking every time they hit the metal. “But I don’t think Luxor is worth it.” 

Dan shrugs. “I’ll think about it.” 

Sam shrugs again and leans down, resting her chin against the railing of the balcony. 

“How are you feeling?” Dan asks her, knowing full well that she isn’t feeling the best. She follows his question by another shrug—she must be in that mood today—and then sits up. She reaches into her hoodie pocket and fishes out a pack of cigarettes, tapping one out and placing it between her lips as she lights it. 

“Does that answer your question?” She asks with a chuckle. “I’m hungover as fuck and I have a headache thats bigger than the whole of the UK.” 

Dan lets out a soft chuckles and reaches over, rubbing her arm gently. She twitches for a second and then laughs. “We’re a mess.” 

“And that’s why we’re best friends.” 

“Because we’re both hot messes?” Sam asks with a lighthearted chuckle. 

Dan nods and lets out a loud snort as he reaches for the table in front of him and picks up his cold coffee and takes a sip. 

Sam finishes her cigarette and puts it out in the ash tray that she has hidden under her chair. She then lets out a loud groan and stretches up before she kicks her long legs out in front of her and stands up. “Let’s go.” 

“Where?” Dan asks. 

He knows its the afternoon, but he’s didn’t know they had any plans. 

“Lets go swimming.” 

She extends her hand out and Dan takes in as she lifts him up and forces him back inside the doors to her bedroom and they get dressed to go out. She calls for a cab via the PA system she has in her room and then they leave to go towards the beach. 

***

“We couldn’t get ahold of Phil Lester.” 

They’re sat on the beach, the warm summer breeze blowing in their hair. People are walking all around them and Dan is digging his toes into the hot sand. 

“Oh?” 

Sam nods with a sympathetic look. She’s got her hair tossed up in messy double braids now and her freckles are darkening in the sun. Dan reckons that Sam is actually quite pretty. And if he was attracted to females, he’s sure he would jumped on the opportunity to be with her. But it’s just not something that would have worked. 

They tried...once. When they were newly eighteen and Dan was still figuring out if he liked girls. They met at a club while Dan was on a trip to Ibiza with his university friends for a vacation. Dan had no idea who Sam was when they first met but they shared a few drinks and found themselves to be natural friends. 

Dan tries to forget about how they tried to have sex once and he totally failed at it, panicking just as Sam undressed. And it wasn’t even like a genuine panic, it was more that he knew this wasn’t what he wanted and the thought of it was unsettling to him. Sam didn’t mind, and despite the first few hours being a bit weird, they can laugh about it now. 

“I asked Gillian to get ahold of Jeanna Trombley who is Phil Lester’s personal assistant. She takes all of his calls and everything. And she tried but Jeanna said that Phil Lester was far too busy right now to answer a call about a missing possession so...sorry, babes.” 

Dan feels a bit of sadness willing in his chest. He pulls his knees up to his chest and lays his cheek on his knees, turning his head towards Sam. She reaches out and puts a hand on his back and rubs it and that simple act is enough to make him sniffle and will himself not to cry right now. 

“I’m sure you’ll get it back one day.” 

“How?” Dan asks. “He doesn’t even know my real name and I doubt he even remembers me.” 

“My dad is good friends with Phil Lester, in case you didn’t know.” Sam juts in. “He does a lot of business deals and in return, he often offers Phil a place to stay in our hotels in a private executive suite just for him. I’m sure I can ask him to see if he can even talk to Phil.” 

Dan lets out a scoff. He know Sam’s dad wouldn’t ever do anything like that. 

“He probably is keeping it as a trophy.” 

“A trophy?” Sam asks, clarifying. 

Dan nods. “Yeah, like, oh I fucked this guys brains out and his necklace fell off so I’m going to keep this to remind of that night. You know, that kind of a trophy.” 

“I don’t think Phil would be that selfish.” Sam says, furrowing her brows. “I’ve met him before...I mean, I don’t think...” She stutters on her words. “Yes, it’s true that there are times where Phil can be a bit cold hearted but I don’t think he’d keep someone else’s possession for a trophy.” 

Dan shrugged. His skin was feeling a bit hot and he was beginning to feel a bit sweaty and gross. Sam let out a sigh. “I don’t know what else you want to do, Dan.” She says, her words cutting through to him. “There isn’t much to do at this point. Honestly, I would just let the necklace go. For all we know, maybe you didn’t lose it in his bed. Maybe you lost it on the dock or somewhere else in the yacht. You’re just thinking of the worst case scenarios right now.” 

Dan swallows and reluctantly nods because Sam was right. But he didn’t want to admit it. The necklace was still something that meant a lot to him and it wasn’t easy for him to come to the realization that he might have to part with it. 

“Come on, lets go swimming.” She says, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. “There is no point getting all pissy right now. It’s our last here. Let’s make the most of it.” 

Dan lets a smirk take over his lips and he dips his head down as he allows for her to drag him into the warm Mediterranean water. 

***

They ended up in a club somewhere, the music blasting and the lights strobing all around them. Dan’s got a few drinks down and Sam has a few more downed and they’re well past sober. Sam is dancing with some random guy in the crowd and Dan is dancing a bit off to the side where their table of empty drinks and cups are. He’s downed his third mixed drink and he’s reaching for a test tube shot from someone walking around the dance floor. He reckons he should be a bit more responsible but he’s also way past the point of giving any fucks whatsoever. 

The guy with Sam gets a bit handsier with her and Dan looks protectively to make sure she’s okay. And she definitely is by the way she’s kissing up and down the Adonis’s neck. Dan watches her for a few moments before she takes the mans hand and winds her way through to their table. 

“I’m leaving with Nick so you know the drill.” 

And Dan does. If Sam doesn’t text him within three hours of leaving, he needs to call her and etc...

He gives her a smile and watches her leave out the door with this fit guy as he left stood alone with an empty test tube shot and another one coming his way. He’s tempted to reach for it but he’s stopped when someone comes up next to him. 

“You’re looking a bit lonely over here.” 

Dan turns and makes eye-contact with a beautiful tanned male stood in front of him. His knees go a bit weak and he feels already the tell-tale signs of arousal spinning in his stomach at looking at the attractive male. His voice was sugary sweet in the best way possible and his bright green eyes shone directly into Dan’s brown. 

“Maybe.” Dan answers, smirking a bit. 

“You’re too cute to be lonely,” The male says. “I’m surprised no one else has snagged you up yet.” 

Dan shrugged. “Most people can’t handle me.” 

“Handle you?” 

Dan nods, playing along. “I’m a bit more than people can normally handle.” 

“Is that so?” The man asks, moving a forward. “Show me.” 

Dan reaches out and takes the mans hand in his palm and drags him into the middle of the crowded dance floor. He knows the man probably thought Dan meant he was going to drop to his knees and blow him in the middle of the floor but this was nicer. 

He wrapped his arms loosely around the mans neck and they swayed together as the mans hands placed themselves firmly on Dan’s hips. 

“What’s your name?” Dan asks. 

“Ivan. Yours?” 

“Dan.” 

Ivan smiles at him and leans down, pressing his lips against Dan’s neck and sucking a bit onto the tender skin. Dan’s breath hitched and he let out a low moan as he clung in closer to Ivan and let him suck continuous kisses onto his neck. 

They left, not long after. Dan shot Sam a text saying he was going home with a guy too and the fact that she replied with a thumbs up emoji made him chuckle a little bit. They took a taxi to the guys home, which was a small little villa on the coast. 

Once inside, it didn’t take long for the heat between them to intermix with the heat of the night. Dan shimmied off his clothing somewhere in Ivan’s living room and Ivan’s pants found their way with his as well. 

Dan went down on him, sucking him off the best he could but by the second round “Yes! Suck that cock!” came from Ivan’s mouth, he was getting to feel a bit less excited about what was happening. 

He still very much wanted to have sex, that was definitely still true. But somewhere in the back of his head as he swung his legs over Ivan’s hips and seated himself on top, he could still hear Phil’s voice and feel his hands on his skin. Ivan’s hands felt bigger, and colder. Phil’s were soft and gentle, warm to the touch like they were sear Dan’s skin if they were left too long. 

It took Dan a lot longer to get off with Ivan. Ivan finished pretty fast and then proceeded to let Dan ride him until he finished. But by the time Dan was close,  his thighs were aching and he was beginning to feel like this was more a chore than actually getting himself off. 

He came with a whimper and then pushed off from Ivan, landing beside him on the bed. Ivan kissed him, softly one last time, before Dan pushed off and told him he needed to get going. My friend is probably worried. He lied. 

He grabbed his clothing and dressed as fast as he could. He used Sam’s contact to call for a taxi and he waited outside for it and jumped in as soon as they came. When he got to Sam’s home, she was inside too, sitting on her bed wiping off her melted make up. 

“Was your night a bust too?” She joked, the remnants of black mascara on her cheeks. 

“Kind of.” 

Sam chuckled. “Nick came after a few seconds and then blacked out on me. I was back here within an hour.” 

“Ivan was okay but it took me a while to finish.” 

She sucked in a breath. “Oh no.” 

Dan looked at her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh no, what?’ 

She shook her head. “Was it because you were thinking about a certain someone instead?” 

“Don’t be daft.” Dan says with a laugh. 

“Your red spot on your cheek just got darker. You’re lying.” 

Dan felt his cheeks light up more “I wasn’t thinking about Phil!” 

She shrugged back and the conversation ended. 

He fell asleep next to Sam in her bed that night and in the morning, a private cab was waiting for them to take them to the airport where they would catch Sam’s family’s private jet back to London. 

It was bittersweet for Dan as he watched the plane lift off out the window. He really felt as if a part of him was being left behind in Amalfi and he knew that part of him was currently in Phil Lester’s hands. 

***

Dan went back to his flat in London with a heavy feeling in his chest. He threw his suitcase down on the floor of his living room and then collapsed on his couch. Sam said she would be over a bit later for take out but he was really enjoying the time alone right now. 

He pulls out his laptop from his bag, the first time he’s done it the week he’d been gone. He finds his browser is open to his emails and he refreshes the page and looks at the Luxor email, still sitting proudly at the top of the list. 

He reads it over again and sees that they want him to be a brand model for their Instagram page. They want him to model their clothing on their Instagram and his own and they would compensate him for it. He could easily do that. 

Shooting back an email, he agrees to whatever they want him to do and he asks if he can meet up at their headquarters in London sometime this next week. He closes his laptop down and waits for their reply just as soon as a text appears on his phone. 

Sam: Phil’s assistant just got back. Says Phil doesn’t have your necklace. He only has one that belongs to a guy named Ethan...

Sam: I tried to tell her it was probably yours but Phil is adamant on not giving up the necklace to anyone besides Ethan...

Dan felt tears rush to his eyes and he wiped them away stubbornly with the regret of what he did that night with Phil. 

Because fuck Phil Lester and fuck everything else too. 

[sheepsandcattle]

Chapter 19

His hands are shaking from withdrawal or anger or both as he stirs the off-coloured liquid with the end of a syringe. His phone is pinging beside him, but he ignores it because he knows it’s Jeff asking where he is, and he can’t be arsed with it right now. He’s late. He knows.

Jules reckons he’s in over his head. He’s not making money like he used to, and he knows it’s because he got caught up in it all. He spends more time in the apartment than he does out on making deals these days. He’s barely making rent and Jules is charging him full for the drugs now and he was meant to be with Jeff and Dean an hour ago, sipping beer before they leave the apartment but instead, he’s doing junk on his bedroom floor because—

Hear him out. Everything’s just so fucking much recently. He’s always feeling so blinded and he just wants a bit of darkness.

Does that make sense?

The phone goes off yet again and he gives in, balancing the syringe on his knee as he sends a hurried text; ‘meet u there.’ He was meant to tell them ages ago. Most have forgotten.

After hurriedly drawing the liquid into the needle, he pulls the lace tight around his bicep to take the hit. When he’s done, he chucks the syringe into a mug and leans back onto the end of his bed. He’ll clean it later.

X-Ray Spex are playing so loud that the bass drowns out his pulse. The weight of it drags him into the ground, pins his hands down and his eyelids shut as he breathes through it; heavily through his mouth. He stays put for a while, listening to the music and letting the room evaporate around him until he’s floating in black tar.

He remembers listening to this album on a field with his best mate at seventeen, weed-high with his eyes shut and wishing he could disassociate; to stop feeling and smelling and seeing and hearing anything else around him. Just the music that made his brain jump about in his daft head.

Now he is buried in warm sand and all he can feel is the beat vibrating the ground and all he can smell is nothing and all he can see is black.

For a second, when the song ends and before the next one begins, he feels and smells and sees and hears absolutely nothing. Then Poly Styrene is chanting “I'm a cliché, I'm a cliché, I'm a cliché, I'm a cliché,” and all of his senses come back all at once.

He groans, counts to ten, and forces himself up from the ground. His legs fail him for half a second, but his elbow becomes acquainted with his dresser in time to stop the fall. He grabs a pack of fags whilst he’s there, counts himself in again, and slumps out of his room and through the apartment.

They’re going to a party tonight. It’s half ten at night and Jules has gone out for a fag, which he’d usually do inside but he’s pissed off as well.

He finds him sat on the curb outside, smoking steadily, eyes cast down to his phone. He looks up when the door shuts behind Curly, asks, “you ready,” and Curly nods.

They sit in silence in the car and split off when they get to the party. Curls finds Jeff and Dean almost immediately and sits with them in the living room, lighting a joint and sinking into the sofa as the conversation fills the rest of the air around him.

After an hour or so, Jeff asks, “Curls, are you good,” and Dean says, “man you don’t look right,” but he doesn’t feel like defending himself and he’s soon shuffling pitifully across the front yard to where Jules now sits on the curb with Oscar who’s fresh out of work.

Curls says, “I’m sorry, mate,” and falls beside Jules, arse hitting the pavement so hard his breath thumps and all the air within a twelve-mile radius fills his skull. He takes a long, deep breath to compose himself. “Sorry I’m a cunt, I aren’t like you. I’ve got nothing happening for me these days. It’s rubbish.”

He supposes he did blow up for no reason; didn’t want to come out tonight but didn’t want to be alone again. That’s all. He just wanted Jules to stay, because ever since he came clean about Jordan, he’s felt just a bit closer to his roommate, even if he never tended to say the right thing and, if anything, has become more distant than ever. He just wants someone to cling to for a while.

“That’s not my fault,” Jules scoffs, but he passes his lighter to Curly like a peace-offering. “You got fired. You ditched your guy. You cut your best friend off. You called your mom a… What was it?”

“A daft cow,” he mumbles, and they both laugh a little, but then pretend it never happened because they’re both still meant to be just a little bit angry.

“Right. You did that, not me.”

“I know,” he mumbles, and he feels so fucking minuscule. It’s not really that funny, is it? “It’s just… Shit. Feel like I’m going mental.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you need to get out more. Not just for deals,” Oscar chimes in now and great, he’s had enough of Curly, too. He wonders if Jules has filled their roommate in on Curly’s shit show. Jules nods along with Oscar.

“Yeah. I know, I know.” He doesn’t really know what else to say. “Can I nick a fag?”

Their place on the curb rings with a chilling silence, but the 'oh Curly’ type of laughter that follows washes the tension away and the air is breathable again.

The night feels easy after that and it turns out he isn’t fussed about being out of the apartment after all. The house is a bit rammed and Jeff is winding him up, giving him a look every time he opens another beer, but other than that, he feels comfortable. It’s the first time in weeks that he doesn’t feel like he’s buried in static and white noise.

“Hey Curls, you good?”

It’s a little later when Oscar nudges his shoulder and he’s drunk too, so Curly’s not embarrassed to slur his words.

“Yeh. Have y’got a lighter?”

“Ask me in thirty minutes,” Oscar says. “Oh, and Curls, go clean yourself up, man.”

Curly doesn’t understand why he has to wait or what he’s meant to be cleaning up, but he gets distracted soon after anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.

Dean kisses his cheek at some point. His beard itches and whilst he’s there he whispers, “you wanna crash with us tonight, buddy,” and Curly shakes his head but says, “cheers though.”

Dean’s wiping kitchen roll over Curly’s forearm and there’s a little blood on it but God knows why. Well, Curly knows why. Because he keeps forgetting to ‘rotate scenes’ or whatever it is Jules keeps badgering him about.

“Maybe you should head home,” Dean suggests. Curly walks off.

He dances alone in the kitchen for a bit, then in the living room and then talks to a bloke called Rooney about modern punks and how Curly reckons “it has a whole new meaning these days, and Morrissey is a complete arsehole. Always has been, mate,” but then realises Rooney is a knob who won’t pipe down about immigrants and all the rights he reckons they don’t deserve.

He tells Rooney to sod off and dances some more in the back yard instead with someone (or no one - who knows?)

Someone says, “your accent is bullshit,” and someone asks, “what are you on, dude? Got any spare?” Somebody else tells him, “yeah, no, I get it. Like I tried to go vegan once but…” something, something, something…

A boy with nice eyelashes tells him his hair is amazing and asks to touch it and, oh, at one point he speaks to a bloke named Henry. That’s his dad’s name and Henry says, “yeah, you already said.”

“Your hair’s growing like crazy,” Jordan tells him and... Oh.

Curly doesn’t remember starting a conversation with him, doesn’t even remember seeing him here. Doesn’t remember coming back inside from the back yard or how he ended up in an empty bath, fully clothed with him, shoes scuffing the sides of the tub.

“So why did you wanna talk to me in the bathtub?”

Oh. Alright. Wow, okay. Why did he want to do that?

He rubs his face. He thinks... He thinks. Think think think. Okay. The party was too full. Jeff said, “Curls, slow down,” and Dean said, “J, don’t bother. He’s had too much already.” Jules and Oscar went home (he thinks) and everyone said he should go with them, but he’s been having too much fun and doesn’t like being told when to stop.

“Everyone ’ad too much t’say.”

“Right… But what did you want to say?”

Fuck’s sake. What did he want to say? His head throbs when his temple hits the wall and, oh, was he tilting? Jordan’s hand slips between his head and the tiles, the other landing on the other side of his skull and bracing him.

“Curls, are you alright? Curly, hey.” Curly’s head is tilted back, J’s thumbs digging into his cheeks. “Open your eyes.”

“Yeh.” He does as he’s told, and it turns out his head isn’t tilted back after all, it’s just at the right angle to watch Jordan as he frowns. Didn’t even realise he’d closed his eyes in the first place. Why is he in a bath with— Oh, yeah. “I just… wanted t’say…. Fuckin’ell.”

“I’ll get Jeff-“

“No— jus’…” Curly’s hands are on Jordan’s face now, until the weight of them wins and they drop to his shoulders instead, grabbing the material of his shirt so they don’t fall away. “Are y’a’right?”

Jordan’s eyes narrow, his brows crease and his face tilts slightly. Then he laughs and Curly thinks God bless.

“You. You just wanna know if I’m alright?” His words are tinted with laughter and everything is warm and cool at the same time. “Yeah, Curls. I’m alright. Are you alright?”

He hums, blinking slowly, and when he opens his eyes, he’s on Jeff and Dean’s couch.

The apartment is dead quiet but there’s light coming through the blinds that someone forgot to close. He has a thick, knitted blanket draped over his top half, but he’s still got all his clobber on and his feet hang over the arm of the sofa, Dr. Martens weighing his ankles down. His arm is aching like mad when he feels around for his phone and when he looks down, he’s got a peeling plaster patched onto the crease of his elbow.

His phone has two missed calls and a new message. They’re all Jordan.

10:34 - text when your up

He’s ready to crawl up his own arse with embarrassment. He hesitates but texts back saying exactly that and, within two minutes, Jordan is ringing him.

He answers and forgets to say hello at first, but when he remembers, it’s sandy and his voice takes a second to wear in and the ‘h’ is missing.

“Morning. How’re you feeling?” Jordan’s voice feels worn and sleepy too and Curly can picture him now, in bed with his hair scruffy and his glasses on because contacts are too much effort for the first five minutes of his morning.

“Shite. Head’s killing me,” he grumbles, groaning as he rolls onto his back. “Fuck’s sake. Sorry for last night.”

Jordan laughs over the line and Curly hears him take a breath and reckons he’s getting out of bed or off the sofa. He wills himself to do the same, but only sinks further into the cushions as he listens to Jordan speak. “No need. You didn’t do anything.”

“Was I sick?” Silence. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, I was. Was it bad? Did I row with—“

“No, no,” he cuts him off and he’s giggling. Giggling. As if. “No puke, no rowing…”

Curly can’t quite decide if he wants more information or he’d prefer to stay blissfully unaware, so he stays quiet and waits for Jordan to decide for him.

“Your nose still bleeding?”

“What?”

“Never mind. Listen, about what you said last night: I get it. A’ight?” Curly racks his brain, trying to figure out what he could be on about, and Jordan must make sense of his silence. “If you don’t remember, it don’t matter, I just. I wanted you to know I’m sorry for—“

“Curly,” a voice chimes from behind him, and he finally pushes himself up from the sofa, met with Dean stretching his arms over his head as he makes his way from his room and towards the kitchen. “How are you feeling?”

“Is that…“ Jordan pauses. “Call me back later, yeah? We’ll talk about it.”

“No, it’s alright, now’s fine,” Curly insists, but the line’s already dead. Dean’s looking guilty, only now realising he’d been on the phone, but Curly says, “morning, mate. I feel like utter shit,” as he drops the phone into his lap.

“I bet you do,” Dean chuckles as he hobbles sleepily into the kitchen. Curly hears crockery clang as he calls, “hey, at least your nose stopped bleeding.”

[kingsofeverything]

**subscribe here to be notified when a new fic is posted**

Fire and Ice Series:

Fire and Ice - Harry really wants to come at the same time as Louis. Or, four times they misfire and the one time they get it right. 9792 words.

The Waiting is the Hardest Part - Fire and Ice Part 2. Harry is stressed waiting for his final semester grades to come in. Louis has a plan to help him relax. Written for @50reasons. Reason #22: Stress Relief. 4611 words.

Aftercare - Fire and Ice Part 3. New to their D/S dynamic, Louis takes care of Harry after a scene. 100 words.

Swallow My Words Series:

What I’ve Wanted to Tell You - Winter Drabble Prompt: Cider. Written for @larrydrabble 100 words.

Swallow My Words - Senior year is stressful. On top of balancing school work, family, and friends, Harry's lacrosse team is vying to win the state championship, he's not sure where he's going to college yet, and he has a secret boyfriend that no one can know about. 32699 words.

Thinking Out Loud -  Louis was just so proud of Harry, and loved showing him off. He daydreamed about getting to show him off to people other than his family more often than he’d admit, even to himself. 1744 words.

more fics under the cut

my only working remedy -  Harry is a famous actor, and the media portrays him as a lothario who sleeps with every woman he meets. His Team steps it up a notch when Harry is in between movies and they do a promo by launching the contest “Win a Date with Harry Styles!” Everything goes wrong for Harry's Team when the winner is a guy, Louis Tomlinson. But for Harry, everything goes right. Written for the 2016 HL Famous/Not Famous Fic Exchange. 42384 words. 

Darkest Night Hour -  After spending thirty-five years hiding out with his face buried in ancient vampire texts, Louis comes back to New York City. While Louis is adjusting to city life in the modern age, Zayn just wants his clan to finally win at trivia nights. Louis needs to make a major decision and he's running out of time. The last thing he expects is to meet someone like Harry, who might be the solution to all of their problems. Written for @hlsummerexchange2017. 24883 words.

How Many Licks -  Occasionally Louis likes to pass his time browsing Tumblr or AO3. When by chance he discovers that one of he and Harry's favorite kinks is sorely underrepresented in the fandom, he sets out to do something about it. 8598 words.

Make This Feel Like Home - Louis and Harry can't seem to find a moment to themselves. Day 15 of the 30 Days of Smut Challenge. 4582 words.

Let’s Raise a Cup - Louis is a telekinetic bartender and uses his super special powers to cheer up recently-broken-up-with Harry. 4298 words.

Got Me On My Tiptoes - Louis and Harry are celebrating their one year anniversary... and reminiscing about the first day they met. Written for @hlsummerexchange2017. 4072 words.

How Long Nothing Lasts - On the way to their friends’ wedding, Louis thinks about the state of his relationship with Harry. Written for @1000feelingsfics. Feeling 38: The fear of small furry animals. 2143 words.

Petrichor - Spring Drabble Prompt: Nature. Written for @larrydrabble. 100 words

Tomlinshaw Fics: 

Those Summer Nights - Part 1 of (Not Really) Grease AU. Nick’s whirlwind summer romance ended when he left his dad’s beach house. Now it’s the first day of senior year, and Nick needs to avoid both the most popular boy at school and his friends’ probing questions. Written for @tomlinshawexchange2017. 11800 words.

Loudest Thing In My Head - Everything is great between Louis and Nick. It really is. Except for the sex. Louis needs something that he's not sure Nick is going to be able to give him. 11784 words.

Let’s Not Fight In Vegas - Louis really should have told Nick that he was head over heels before Nick and Harry walked down the aisle. Written for @larriedinvegasficfest. 10054 words.

Always Holding On to Stars - Louis and Nick break up. Louis is learning how to cope. 8396 words.

I’ll Be Your Pride - Louis needled Nick into riding the Ferris wheel with him so he wouldn't have to ride alone. Of course, they get stuck at the top and Louis has to help Nick through his paralyzing fear of heights. Written for @tomlinshawexchange2017. 4284 words.

All the Silver Moons - Nick wakes up in a strange hotel room and is apparently visiting Louis on tour. Which is really weird, because Louis doesn't like him and they've never hung out without Harry as a buffer. And clearly Louis thinks they're *together* together and Nick hasn't the faintest idea what's going on. Written for @tomlinshawexchange2017. 4202 words.

Other Pairings:

Polish Rider - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson - Louis Tomlinson is back in London to do pre-recorded press in support of his new single, “Miss You.” After a night with his ‘friend with benefits,’ Greg James, Louis is scheduled to appear on Greg’s show. A total size queen who can’t get Greg’s dick out of his head, Louis flirts his way through the interview and reconsiders what exactly he wants from his relationship with Greg. 2016 words.

Vision of a Reckless Love - Liam Payne/Zedd | Anton Zaslavski - Liam and Anton attend their first swingers party, but things don’t work out the way they planned. Written for @1dshortficfest. 2419 words.

Back to School Again - Niall Horan/Hot Luke - Part 2 of (Not Really) Grease AU. It’s the first day of senior year: something weird is going on with Nick and Louis, there’s a spark of possibility for rekindling a friendship, and Niall is very distracted by Hot Luke. Niall’s got a big year ahead of him. 1309 words.

So When the World is Cold - Niall Horan/Zayn Malik - Part one of Ziall For All Seasons. Winter Drabble Prompt: Blanket. Written for @larrydrabble. 100 words.

Send It In A Letter -  Niall Horan/Zayn Malik - Part two of Ziall For All Seasons. Spring Drabble Prompt: Garden. Written for @larrydrabble. 100 words.

Quiet Ones - Liam Payne/Zayn Malik - Zayn remembers Liam. Written for @1dshortficfest. 956 words. 

[anoptimisticsnarker]

So, we start this episode off right where we left off last time. Jonathan and Nancy are screaming for each other, only Nancy is the Upside Down and Jonathan is in the real world. Holy shit, that gateway closed up quick. Good thing Nancy got out before it did, though I think she's traumatized from the whole experience. Don't blame her.

Oh shit, Steve just saw Nancy and Jonathan together in her room, Jonathan likely just calming her down after the hell she went through. But Steve lacks that kind of context, and he did seem concerned about her in the car. I know I don't care for Steve and Nancy together, but you can see the heartbreak in Steve's face as he's watching through her window. (What is with everyone just creeping on each other...?)

Wait, so a girl named Jane was taken years ago and the mom, Terry Ives, wasn't able to get anything on it, nor were any of her claims substantiated. Oh... is Eleven really this Jane girl? Hmm, the plot thickens there... If it is true, then damn, we can add kidnapping to the list of things the researchers have down. Everything I learn about them makes me like them less and less. But Joyce and Hopper are on the case! Hope they can get something from her.

Nancy wants Jonathan to sleep with her in her bed. I know it's because of the trauma, but all I can smell is potential drama. Also, El didn't go back to Mike's. I think everything that happened finally got to her. And Mike, he put a lot of trust in her and it's been broken due to what's happened. Yesterday was just intense for all.

Oh, Jonathan and Nancy are on the case to try and find whatever the creature was. In spite of the fear she has, Nancy is still going through with it. What a trooper. And their theory of it being attracted to blood makes sense given that both Barb and the deer had blood on them when it appeared to them. Will, I don't remember if he had blood on him or not; if he did, then the theory really is sound.

When did Dustin become the source os reason in the group? Seriously though, I'm glad someone is able to see all sides and realize everyone had a hand in what happened the day before. He was all "shake Lucas's hand, or you will be banished from the party", which is so over-the-top, but I love it.

Nancy snuck out the house (presumably with Jonathan), and El slept in the woods last night. How did we get here, folks? (That was rhetorical, obviously. lol) Well, so much for making up. If anything, the talk they had just made everything so much worse. Despite Dustin trying not to split the party, it happened anyway. I get why Lucas would be hesitant to try and find El, but Mike is right. Without her, they're not nearly prepared enough to deal with what's in the Upside Down.

Again, simple mundane things cause El to go into flashback mode. Even something as simple and plain as a grocery store was enough to set her off. And then she just cruises out and steals a shitton of Eggo Waffles. I saw this out of context back when the show was new, but seeing it in context makes it even funnier. She did everything she could to get those damn waffles. (There was going to be a "Who raised you?" joke, but then I remembered where she was before, and got sad again.)

Terry looks absolutely gone. Neither Hopper nor Joyce speaking got through to her; all she was able to do was stare at the television. Also, Lucas is going to find the gate alone. Yeah, that doesn't sound like a great idea, but sometimes you can't stop people from doing what they want. I like the talk Mike and Dustin had, though them finding the aftermath of El's bulglary amused me too much. The collective "Oh shit" look they had was priceless. One thing though; who is watching them from afar?

Um, the more I hear about Terry's daughter, the more I do think Hopper was on to something when he said Jane being miscarried might have been covered up. Too much about what Terry described adds up to what Eleven can do. My friend Erin said Hopper and Joyce's storyline parodies conspiracy theories, and I see how the comparison was made because... Whoo boy.

Nancy and Jonathan going shopping... Somehow I didn't picture it happening like this. The cashier is just giving the biggest look of "What the fuck are you two doing with all of this?" and "I don't get paid enough to deal with this shit.". Their banter is cute.

...To bad it's ruined because of Steve and friends. I swear, for every small step Steve might make, he takes three large ones back. He lacks any context on what Jonathan and Nancy went through, made a gross assumption about her, and then prodded Jonathan to the point where he snapped. Worst part of all is that he, as of right now, got away while Jonathan is the one whos is getting arrested. Ugh, Steve better make the best turnaround ever because I really, really don't like him right now.

So, they really didn't get anything from Terry specifically, but Hopper isn't going to give up on finding Will. I feel like hearing "twelve years" was a lot for Joyce, but she at least knows she has a chance. Hopper doesn't. And I love how the scene ends with the two hearing that Jonathan is currently being held at the station.

Speaking of that, the person who is talking to Nancy sees what is so obvious to everyone but her at this point, Jonathan has fallen for her through all of this. I guess it is true that you don't notice how others feel for you no matter how obvious.

These bullies are actually relentless. I know they have names; I just don't care enough about them to try and remember them. Either way, they chase Mike and Dustin down for God knows how long, trying to stab them, only to have Mike jump off a cliff so Dustin wouldn't get his teeth cut out. Thank God El showed up in the nick of time to keep Mike from dying. She did break one of the bullies' arm, but given he was about to stab someone, fair. Though, I think doing all of that took it out of her. (I failed to mention how earlier she was just chilling in the woods, eating waffles. Iconic.)

Oh shit, they found El. And she's with Mike and Dustin. I do find it too be too much that they;re pulling out straps on three children, but these people clearly don't care about the safety of the youth. Though, they don't know (or maybe do know and didn't make it obvious) that Lucas was spying on them from a tree for a while, so he knows what's coming. Hopefully he's able to reach the others in time because we all know despite their fight, he's going to try and keep his friends and El safe.

[misformarvel]

Not too late

June 18th part 2

Summary: after five years without seeing each other, unsolved feelings between Tom and y/n still being there.

A/N: first of all, massive thanks to every one of you that read, liked, reblogged June 18th and ask me for a part 2. My life pretty much sucks at the moment and writing keeps me afloat. Your support is 100% appreciated and makes my day to day more bearable. I didn’t mean to make a part 2 of June 18th when I conceived it in my mind, but some complications in my routine made me cut it in a very frustrating way. I re-evaluate the end I wanted for the story, I hope you all like it, you’re 70% creators of this, I’m just putting it in words. 

Warnings: 

shitty use of the english language (probably more than ever bc I’m really lazy to edit this, if a mistake it’s tooo gruesome please correct me in the comments so I could change it). 

Fluff, angst (as always bc i’ve only two moods), probably mentions of sex. 

The stellar appearance of the one and only Jacob Batalon. 

W.A approx 1900 words -my longest yet-

If you’re reading this, I love you.

xx. Mel.

- “Happy New Year!”.

Everybody screamed and laughed. They turned to kiss the person they wanted to spent the year with. Everyone, except you, along with your champagne glass contemplating the city that delivered the person you’ve become. You don’t have someone to kiss, he wasn’t there. To be honest, if he’d be there you probably slap him instead of kissing. 

You’ve spent five years away from London and you made a new life. New friends, new job, new hobbies and habits. Tom was replaced as your best friend and as your love interest. Your love life was cancelled and is not like you haven’t slept with anyone in five years but they were just hookups. Dating doesn’t fit you, Jacob always says. Jacob. Your roommate and new best friend in the world. You couldn’t make it in this city without him, you just couldn’t. He’s so far the smartest, sassiest and most kind-hearted person you’ve ever met. Dating does fit him, except for his relative commitment issues. He and Lea have made it now for three years.

- Y/N is watching the fireworks, let’s join her! -. Lea had a champagne bottle in one of her hands and two cups in the other, her bright black eyes smiled at you with complicity. You guys met at the metro, while she was performing cello. You were the only person that stopped to hear her play and cheer her at the end of her performance. She started to cry because she had a dreadful day and you invite her to your flat, the building was right above the station. You didn’t know she was the mysterious girl your roommate has had a crush over for months. You became friends with Lea, and one thing leads to another, you set them together and were so proud of playing cupid with two of the most fantastic people you’ve ever met.  

You receive the text you were waiting for: “take it away baby” Jacob said and you instantly did your job. Suddenly, your best mate appeared with his ukelele, singing a beautiful traditional Hawaiian song, his voice shaking and tears filling his eyes. Tears of happiness. You smiled at the scene. Lea was standing there, looking at his boo with heart-eyes, leaving the bottle and cups over the little table you have on your balcony. 

- Turn around baby, our neighbours got something to tell you. 

Your job was send a text to the neighbours from the building across the street. You and Jacob planned this for months, actually, it was his idea but you were in charge of the “logistics”. So you knock at every door with a fruit basket trying to bribe you neighbours and get them to participate in Jacob’s proposal. There was no need, as soon as they’ve heard it was all about the “cello girl” and that nice guy from the flowers shop. 

“Marry me Lea, J”- The building across the street enlighted with the message of love. Lea fall in her knees, crying and laughing. Jacob sat beside her and gave her the ring. You were crying as a baby at this point, you even had snots and gave a gruesome spectacle. Your job was done, you leave the lovebirds alone and came back to the party, utterly happy for the future, optimistic as you’ve never been. 

Hey, hi. I’m Tom. y/n’s mum gave me your number. I’m an old friend from school and I’m in the city, so I was thinking of surprising her. HMU if you’re down to help me. 

Jacob knew the whole story about you and Tom. It was hard to understand but he did, and always had your back when you went backwards in your attempt at getting over Tom. It was hard for you but you seemed to be ok now, you didn’t need all that drama. And there it was a nice guy working in the store beside his flowers shop who he really liked and was into you. This text he received from Tom could fuck up so many things, but Jacob couldn’t lie to you. You needed to know. 

- “Boo, there’s something you need to know about y/n and her trip to London for her sister’s wedding”. Lea agreed with Jacob that you needed to know about Tom being in your city and wanting to meet you. The night of your sister and Sam’s wedding you and Tom kissed, and he “kinda” revealed his feelings for you, in a very poor way, according to Lea’s point of view. But when you came back to your city, running away from your feelings once more, you couldn’t just show up in your apartment, you couldn’t tell Jacob what happened. You went to Lea’s and spent two or three days until it was normal to you to come back after your family event. 

- “Why’d you hide me this y/n? We’re besties, we’re supposed to trust in each other. And not to mention you (Lea) knew it and shut about it till now. Perfect. Betrayed by my best friend and my future wife. This is too much”. 

-” Jacob don’t be mad at me. I didn’t know how to handle it. After all I did to stop having feelings for him”.

-”Poor Nick, he was so enthusiast about your date,” Jacob said about the guy from the store beside his. Yeah, homeboy already set you a blind date with him.

-”Who’s Nick!?” You replied, even tho Jacob talked about this fella a thousand times since they met. “Listen, Jake, I’m not gonna see him anyways, I told him I can’t do this”. 

- “Shut your face, is so obvious you’re still in love with him. But of course you’re not gonna see him, not until I meet him and say a couple of things” Jacob said, his index pointing at you, overprotective brother mode on. 

- “Guys there’s still a party out there in your living room, dontcha want to wait for them to go to have this screamy fight?” Lea said softly, lookin’ even smaller than she already was. 

- “She’s right. We’re gonna have a proper talk tomorrow”. You left the room, rolling eyes at Jacob that looked at you with disappointment. In four years living together, you’ve never fought over anything. 

You lit your cigarette. The night was cold and it puts you in the mood. You promised your mum you were going to quit it, but you couldn’t help yourself on nights like this. There was a park a couple of blocks apart from your building, it reminded you of Richmond Park in Kingston, near your home. Every time you went for a walk you remembered your mornings and afternoons with the Hollands at the park, walking your dog and their staffy Tessa. God, you missed it. And you hated you didn’t have time and a proper place to have a dog of your own. Anyways, the park is a great place to think and lit your occasional cigarettes in the cold nights of your city. 

You were walking by, thinking about how much you’ve fucked it up with Jacob and Lea on their engagement night (and New Year’s Eve). You remembered you haven’t called your sister or Sam to explain them why’d you left their party without saying goodbye. You only received a text from Harry calling you a coward, and other from Harrison, saying he was upset you haven’t met on your time in London. Nothing from Tom. Not a single word. And now he was asking Jacob to participate in “a surprise” he wanted to give you. Your blood boiled, contrasting with the snowy weather.   

-“He does know you, he’s indeed your best mate now”. That voice you’d recognize anywhere, anytime. It gave you goosebumps. 

- “What are you doing here?”, you told him without looking at him and dragging the rest of your cigarette furiously. 

- “I should’ve taken a cab that night and follow your car to the airport. I should’ve stopped you there, kissed you again, hold you in my arms and never let you escape from me again. But I didn’t, because I’m a pussy y/n, I don’t have the guts”. Tom came closer, his face centimetres apart from yours. “I want you y/n, so bad”. 

Everything was shaking inside you. He’s nothing but what you’ve always wanted. You’ve never loved someone because you were so busy being his. He mumbled something in your ear, your bodies real close, fingers intertwined, synchronized heartbeats.

“I’m freezing Tom,” you interrupted the kiss that was imminent. “Let’s go to my hotel” he replied, and a few minutes later you were making out inside the elevator on your way to his hotel room. Your mind was occupied with so many things you couldn’t enjoy the moment you’ve been waiting since you were, like, fourteen years old. He leads you across the hall, never breaking the kiss, his hands everywhere, his lips always pressed to yours. 

- “are you sure?” he asked when it was pretty obvious you were more than down to do it. You didn’t reply, just kissed and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, where you needed him the most. 

“Seven years ago, I was looking for a new place, and you know how hard it is in this goddamn city. -People laughed at Jacob first words- I found the perfect place, but there was a problem, this cute babe from London was interested in it too. She was way more practical than me so she proposed to share the apartment. And that’s the story of how I met the bride. Now, I’ll talk about the groom. Ah that motherfucker… Two years ago, the cute babe from London who became my best friend leave me for a couple of days, she was attending to her sister’s wedding. Before she left, she helped me to plan the way I’d propose to my lovely wife here present -Jacob turned to see Lea at his side, with a heavy baby bump and a big shiny smile on her lips-. My poor best friend spent five years away from her family in England because she was heartbroken. What she didn’t know was the cause of the deplorable state of her sentimental life was as miserable as she was. This, my fellow guests, is what I call a story of misunderstood. How people can get hurt because they can’t express their feelings. How much we could hurt others because we don’t understand our own feelings. That’s how I met the groom, helping him to express he understood, finally, that he couldn’t live without her by his side. This is how I helped him to demonstrate is never too late. Is not too late for love, never. So, my speech may have been long and incoherent, but I’m at my best friends wedding, I’m about to become a dad and I’m a little bit tipsy. Here's to y/n and Tom, the bride and the groom”. 

Tom took your hand and kissed your knuckles while you gave him a heart-eyes look. Then he placed his hand on your incipient baby bump and looking straight at your eyes repeat Jacob’s words:  “Is not too late for love, never”. 

I’ll tag the ones asking for a part 2, thank you guys, I hope you like this! @clairesrainbow @littlemisscaligirl @johnmurphys-sass

[twopoppies]

Hi, love! :) I was wondering if you have like a top ten fic rec list. Just curious to see what your top ten would be. Please and thank you x

So, I’ve had this ask in my inbox all week because I just cannot, for the life of me, narrow down the thousands of fics I’ve read into a top 10. This has less to do with the volume of fics than that I love different fics for different reasons. And just for clarification, I want to give you a list of great fics to read that are not the usual - because I do love many of the fandom classics, but let’s spread the love, shall we? Ok…SO…the best I can do is break up some of my faves into a couple of categories. 

1. Beautifully Poetic Fics

These Roads We Stumble Down by @onewasturning

He’s completely drenched, not one millimetre of him not covered in rain, and the old sheepskin cover over the seat is probably going to stink afterwards from the damp. But even with what seems to be a constant tremor shaking his body, brown hair plastered to his forehead, and a blue tinge to his skin, he’s still probably the most gorgeous person that Harry has ever seen.

Or, Harry picks up a hitchhiker in Oxford, and it’s a long ride to Glasgow.

A Red-Dusted Planet by @onewasturning

Harry finally makes it to the edge of the pool where Louis is almost curled up in on himself laughing in the shallow water. He wants to feel annoyed, his competitive side rankled at the unfair and unjust tactics used by his opponent, but it’s like—

The light refracts off the water and moves across Louis’ skin, darkening the ink of his tattoos, and he looks beautiful, dazzling, still that god laughing down on all the destruction he’s caused. And Harry’s heart is caught somewhere in his breathless chest, like it’s become tangled amidst the veins and arteries whilst trying to make room for wet boys on warm, summery days.

Or, a one-night stand in a small town in Australia turns into a weekend that Harry could’ve never predicted with a boy he may never forget.

reeling through the midnight streets by vashtaneradas

au; louis can’t sleep. neither can the boy on the bridge. the water’s a nice place to meet.

Coup de Foudre by angelwarm

Harry moves to the front door accompanied by insistent lightning flashes. He acknowledges it could also be a murderer on the other side and that he will likely be dead in five minutes.

It should stop him. It doesn’t.

Harry decides not to waste another second and calls through to the other side, “Just a second.” He turns the key in the latch and opens it and—everything around him drops away in one long cloud coming into another cloud.

Caught By the Sun by metal_eye / @metal-eye

“He came every summer. It wasn’t even a question. Harry and his parents—one step, one real—picked up their lives, packed it into a car, and drove long enough to land at the ends of the earth.

“The cabin had been in his family for a hundred years. There was no TV, no phone, no computer, no radio. There were decks of cards and plastic deer and marbles. There were skis and leaves and a tree house.

"And then there was Louis.”

Or, Harry and Louis meet every summer at the lake.

Strange How the Half Light by Anonymous

It’s been two weeks now. Two weeks of tossing and turning in his bed, waking up sticky with sweat, head pounding.

“Your moon is so different from mine, did you know?” the boy, Harry, murmurs, and Louis flushes red, glad the dark of the night hides the blush on his cheeks. Thinking about sweaty nights thrashing around in his bed isn’t the best idea right now. Not here, next to this boy. Some mornings, Louis could swear he wakes up with Harry’s scent on his pillow.

In the light of the moon, Harry tells stories about the places beyond the stars, and Louis wonders about the curve of his lips.

Little Technicolor Things by @tekhnicolor

Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.

six feet beneath the moon by starseas

AU. takes place over one night. harry and louis meet at a going away party.

Where is Your Boy Tonight (I Hope He’s a Gentleman) by ashavahishta

When they hang out together at other times, Nick is usually more careful. It’s not that he’s expecting Harry to cut off their friendship or something ridiculous when he finds out. It’s that he knows Harry would be lovely about it. Harry would look at him with huge sympathetic eyes and apologise that he didn’t feel the same way, and then he’d give him a huge hug and go home to Louis with Nick’s broken heart cradled in the palm of his hand.

2. Super Hot Short Fics

(the rest is under the cut)

Lights off, Lights on by waytoomanypeopleintheaddisonlee / @dinosaursmate

“Fuck,” Louis muttered, quickly palming himself through his joggers.He dropped his head to the doorframe as he heard the telltale sound of climax coming from the bathroom. He let out a quiet, strangled moan, palming himself again as he heard the water stop running.“Shit,” Louis muttered, quickly moving back to his own bed and throwing himself on top of it. A minute later, Harry emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped round his waist, smiling brightly, nonchalantly.“Morning, Lou.”-Louis can’t get enough of listening to Harry touching himself.

Good Enough to Eat by objectlesson / @horsegirlharry

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, shuffling. “You won’t give me shit for it? It’s sorta weird.”

“No,” Louis breathes. “Promise.”

“Okay. I just…fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

It takes Louis a few seconds to process, to mentally rifle through his Pornhub search history and remember what rimming even is; Harry has him so stupid he can’t keep stuff straight. His ears ring, and then it hits him, and, oh, fuck. His stomach turns and tightens so quickly he’s gasping, an audible and shameful scrape of air in the dark. “You…really?” he chokes out.

—

Or, Harry is convinced he’s never gonna be able to try his favorite porn fantasy on a real boy, and Louis offers to remedy this.

Go With It by embro

Prompt: “You thought I was someone else and started making out with me in a club and you’re really hot so I just kinda went with it and now we’re heading back to your place and I don’t know how to break it to you”

Day 27: My Heart Belongs to Daddy by @100percentsassy

Louis and Harry are not going to have sex today.

got my eyes on you by eleadore

Harry’s not supposed to take off his clothes, but it’s one of those unspoken rules, much like don’t have a wank with your best mate and definitely don’t make that a regular thing, fuck, what the fuck.

love to make him moan by say_thanks

they fuck like they’re sex starved, when they’re really, really not.

leave you drowning until you reach for my hand by orphan_account

If Louis told him to do something that he really didn’t want to do, it would be different, but Louis’s never done that, never asked anything of Harry that he couldn’t handle. Except—except maybe this; to obey him without praise, reward, approval, or even mere acknowledgement.

feel you on my neck by Awriterwrites / @a-writerwrites

Harry’s drunk. Harry’s drunk and there’s this guy. This guy plastered to his back and if he could just get a cab…

Based on these lyrics:Feel you on my neck while I’m calling a taxiClimbing over me while I climb in the backseatNow we’re taking offNow we’re taking it off tonight

What happens when Harry rescues Louis at a bar and ends up taking him home?

3. New(ish) Longer Fics You Should Read

Let Me Touch You Where Your Heart Aches by @rosegoldhl

Alcohol was all he could taste. Alcohol and Harry, and he didn’t mind one bit. Harry kissed him back with just as much fervent heat. He pushed Louis against the taxi door and pulled his head back, breathing hot and heavy against his lips.“Let’s go, yes?”

Or a Friends with Benefits AU, in which Louis falls in love and Harry is jealous. There is some Karaoke singing somewhere in there, because how do you write a romantic comedy without a Karaoke scene?

A Few Very Good Mistakes by @louisandthealien

He almost wishes there were a better story.

“Fucked up pop star ends five day bender by wandering into a dive bar alone and passing out in public.”

That would’ve generated press, he thinks, and if there’s one thing that’s constantly on his mind (or more accurately, on the mind of everyone else around him) it’s that all press is good press, and good press is good press but bad press is great press.

Besides, he’s 25 and trying to do the whole transition from boyband to solo pop star. He’s pretty sure a press-fueled meltdown is, like, a right of passage.

The truth, alas, is a whole lot more boring.

—

Louis falls asleep in Harry’s bar. Harry takes him home to hang out.

Save your loving arms for a rainy day by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite

“What’s got your panties in a twist, then, pop star?” the man finally asked, his gaze returning to Louis’ face.

Something pressed against Louis’ chest and for a moment Louis let himself wonder what it would be like to let all his secret spill out. To fall into the space between them and be devoured by this stranger. Terror mingled with bliss, tangling into a sharp throb he had to swallow hard against.

“Absolutely nothing,” Louis said instead. “Happy days, yeah?”

The man clicked his tongue once, a disappointed, wet tetch that Louis felt. Actually felt.

“My mistake.”

Louis turned desperate eyes on him, blinking too fast. He could see his own lashes flutter. “I’m living the dream, mate” he said and even he could hear the way his voice cracked along the edges. “What would I have to be upset about?”

–

Or the one where Louis is a pop star who has lost his voice and Harry helps him find it.

like a boomerang by youwilll 

AU in which Harry gets trapped in a lift, Louis gets stuck in a Wednesday, and it’s always February 2nd. Until it isn’t.

Fool’s Gold by tvshows_addict / @tvshows-addict

Leaflet for Over Again Inc.

“In relationships, there are three types of people: those who are happy, those who are unhappy but accept it and deal, those who are unhappy and in denial.

Handling this last category is our job: we are professional couple breakers.

To reach our goal, we use all means necessary.”

Or the Arnacoeur AU in which Harry is scheduled to be married to Liam in 10 days and Harry’s mother hires Louis and his team to break them up.

Don’t Want Shelter by @fullonlarrie

Louis and Harry have known each other all their lives. Friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. Except for that one time ten years ago…

When Hurricane Nicole threatens the coast, they end up stuck together in their families’ old vacation home that they begrudgingly co-own.

During the storm, and in the months after, they’re both forced to reevaluate their history and what they mean to each other.

Barefoot in Blue Jeans by @indiaalphawhiskey

AU. Louis Tomlinson is trying desperately hard not to fall for his son’s au pair, but he can’t, for the life of him, remember why.

475. The hope that this fear is unfounded.

Hopefully I’ve given you some that you haven’t read yet, as that’s always my goal (along with giving you great writing to enjoy). 

[allwaswell16]

This is the masterpost for my fan fictions. You can also find and subscribe to my fics here on ao3. My word count so far is: 388,316. All pairings are Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson unless otherwise specified. Thanks for reading! <3 <3

Faded From This Touch | explicit | 7k | read here on ao3

Pop star Louis Tomlinson is about to make his long awaited return to music. Unfortunately, his label and manager feel his long hair isn't in tune with his pop star image. When Louis goes to get a hair cut at a posh London salon, he unexpectedly finds a very handsome reason to keep returning.

Today’s the Day (Winter Drabble Series) | G | 300 words | read here on ao3

Polar-Harry pines for the beautiful boy he sees in the coffee shop. Radiator-Harry meets the beautiful boy in the coffee shop he has been pining over. Melt-Harry talks to the boy in the coffee shop he has been pining over.

Be My Homeward Dove | explicit | drarry | 7k | read here on ao3

It's almost Christmas, and Draco must find Harry the perfect gift. It's much more difficult than he'd imagined.

We’re Dancing On Tables | explicit | 5k | read here on ao3

Last week, Louis went on the very best date of his life with the hot guy from his chemistry lab, which was great until the guy never texted him or called him afterwards. Everything is great. Everything is fucking great. Now this guy has the nerve to show up at Louis’ house party, which of course forces Louis to plot to ruin his night.

Staring Across the Room | explicit | 26k |  read here on ao3

Harry Styles has a great life. He’s a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library, he’s got wonderful friends, and he loves cooking, green tea, yoga, and his collection of bow ties. He doesn’t mind that his life seems a little structured, maybe even a little boring. But when Louis Tomlinson joins the library staff as the new Installation Coordinator, things become a lot less predictable. Louis gets under his skin right from the start, bossing Harry around, making noise during story time, and eating the last cupcake in the staff lounge. Louis may be almost offensively attractive, but Harry will not be succumbing to Louis Tomlinson’s charms, even if the rest of the library staff have.

Do You Smile To Tempt a Lover | explicit | 18k | read here on ao3

Pairing: Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

Nick Grimshaw is entranced by Louis, his very beautiful, very cheeky new coworker at The National Portrait Gallery. He watches him day after day, wondering what he’s furiously typing on his laptop over lunch. With a little help from the very bored barista in the gallery cafe, Nick finds himself growing closer to Louis than he ever dreamed possible.

Let You Lick the Lollipop | explicit | 4.4k | read here on ao3

Louis may be throwing a Halloween costume party for a lot of drunk college students, but that doesn’t mean he can’t also hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. He just has to keep people from stealing all the candy--especially the very hot guy in a toga who won’t leave his candy alone.

This is Halloween, everybody make a scene | general | 2k | read here on ao3

When Louis takes his son trick-or-treating in a stormtrooper costume, little does he know by the end of the night he will end up gaining a Luke Skywalker, a Chewbacca, and a Rey. He doesn't mind the additions, and if Rey's very hot dad wants to come along as well, he doesn't mind that too much either.

Just Hear This (series) | explicit | 46k | read here on ao3

Former boy band member Louis Tomlinson can’t stand pompous indie artist Harry Styles, but with a new record label to launch he is going to have to endure his pretensions to snag up and coming new artist Liam Payne, who happens to be Harry’s oldest friend. Luckily, Liam seems to be very interested in 78 Records and maybe a little more than interested in Louis’ best friend. Too bad Harry won’t be making this easy on any of them. Or a modern day Pride and Prejudice.

You’re the Light (series) | explicit | 39k | read here on ao3

Before beginning a new graduate school in the fall, Louis Tomlinson decides to spend the summer working in Chicago as an editor’s assistant for the Chicago Tribune newspaper and staying with his old college roommate. What he finds on his first day of work is a tall, gorgeous editor named Harry who has the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen—and who also happens to be his new boss.

Looking Through You (series) | explicit | 49k | read here on ao3

Just as Louis and Liam were starting out in the music industry, writing and producing for up and coming artists, a fateful meeting with new pop singer Harry Styles changes everything. Four years later, just as Harry is set to embark on his next world tour, a drunken confession causes a rift between once inseparable friends. As Harry tries to make sense of his feelings for Louis, he begins writing his next album to express them as it may be the only way to break through the walls that Louis has built between them. 

That’s How I Know | explicit | 17k | read here on ao3

Louis Tomlinson has just landed his dream job, coaching soccer at Augustus University. When he moves into a new house near campus, he meets his very fit new neighbor, English professor Harry Styles. Although their first meeting leads to an instant mutual dislike, the more Harry gets to know Louis, the more he likes what he sees. Or the one where Harry’s African grey parrot spills his dirty secrets to his very hot neighbor.

I’ll Be There | explicit | 5k | read here on ao3

Louis is less than thrilled to find out his roommate has coerced his nemesis to check on him whilst he’s sick in bed. However, Harry seems to take great pleasure in taking care of Louis. Maybe this green smoothie drinking, hot yoga instructing, hair in a bun wearing, pretentious art history studying wanker isn’t so bad after all. On Monday, Louis thinks Harry’s a twat. By Friday, he’s thinking of reasons for him to stay.

One Day You’ll Say These Words | mature | 10k | read here on ao3

Growing up together in Yorkshire has led to a lifelong friendship between Louis Tomlinson, the future Marquess of Rotherham, and Harry Styles, the heir to a viscount. When Harry suddenly inherits his uncle’s title and estate much earlier than expected, Louis must watch his friend struggle under the weight of these new responsibilities, including searching for a wife with a dowry large enough to save his estate. However, sitting idly by as Harry looks for a bride brings some unexpected feelings to the surface. A friends to lovers story set in the Regency era.

Sound Like a Song | explicit | 14k | read here on ao3

Part 1 of When We Were Young Series: In high school, Louis Tomlinson lit up Harry’s world like nobody else, even if Harry did most of his pining from the safety of his tightly knit circle of friends. Ten years later, Harry is ready to make some changes. He’s tired of having so many regrets and not taking charge of his life, and he still hasn’t forgotten how brightly Louis shines. He’s about to get a long awaited second chance.Or the one where Harry helps out at a farmer’s market and gives Louis free vegetables. Featuring Elton John songs, many vegetable puns, way too many zucchinis, and being right on time for the love of your life.

Look Like a Movie | mature | 10k | read here on ao3

Part 2 of When We Were Young Series. Louis lights up Harry’s world like nobody else. Harry just wishes he could be brave enough to ever ask him out. Although Harry’s high school life is fraught with anxious encounters, he gets by with a little help from his friends.Or a prequel taking place ten years before ‘Sound Like a Song.’ Featuring school dances, soccer games, overeager lab partners, crushes, and being ten years too early for the love of your life.

How Could I Ever Forget | explicit | 14k | read here on ao3

After his boyfriend leaves him for a job in New York, Harry vows to move on with his life. A year later when their best friends announce their engagement, Harry knows he’ll be forced to see Louis again and face the truth he’s been trying his best to hide–even from himself. Or a Vegas AU where Ziam’s bachelor party turns into drunken karaoke, winning thousands at slots, washing your clothes at the laundromat in your underwear, and making life altering decisions that you can’t remember in the morning.

You Really Got Me Now | explicit | 6k | read here on ao3

Louis is the best older brother anyone could ask for. He knows this because he’s agreed to help chaperone his younger sister’s school trip to Rome. As it turns out, Italy is full of surprises. Fizzy’s Italian teacher is surprisingly hot, Rome is surprisingly interesting, and Louis is surprisingly falling in love with more than just the city.

You & Me | general | 3k | read here on ao3

Louis Tomlinson doesn’t have much faith in fate. Unfortunately, his mother does. She thinks he’s destined to be with her best friend’s son. Louis hasn’t had much luck in love, so he decides to finally meet this boy his mother thinks is his match. As fate would have it, he encounters an intriguing stranger to confide in before he meets with destiny.

1D Very Silly Chat/Email Chain (series) | (im)mature| 7k+ | read here on ao3

(1) Danger in the Produce Aisle, (2) Caramel Apple Peeps, (3)The OT4 Email Chain, (4) Email Chain OT4, (5) Screaming, (6)The Brits & Always You, (7) Is Neil Available?

Read emails sent from : donnysoldier28@gmail.com, TheRealBatMan@aol.com, CraicDirection@hotmail.com, and randysdonuts@savethewhales.org

Important topics including: frightening fruits, no milk for Louis’ tea, hacking, being jealous of Steve Aoki, way too many poo jokes, Niall screaming, dogs Liam doesn’t Instagram, Harry’s floofy hair, Liam’s chains, Instagram aesthetics, and much more!

Now That I’ve Found You | mature | 6k+ | read here on ao3

Harry Styles has a great job working for his brother-in-law’s construction company. He has just one small problem. His concrete sub-contractor just quit, and he needs a foundation built as soon as possible. One fateful turn brings him exactly what he’s been looking for—an experienced concrete construction company that happens to be owned by the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes upon.

For You I’d Bleed Myself Dry | explicit | 3k+  | read here on ao3

After a public and humiliating breakup, Louis Tomlinson finds himself on his would-be honeymoon with his best friend, Niall. However, this St. Lucian paradise is not all that it seems. Louis may be particularly vulnerable to an unusually handsome predator.

On a Day Like This You Know It’s Meant To Be | t&up | 2k+  | read here on ao3

One year ago Harry Styles met Louis Tomlinson, the man of his dreams. Harry is certain he’ll never see him again, even if they did make a pact to reunite should the Chicago Cubs win the World Series. Harry has one small flicker of hope left when it appears the Cubs might actually win it all. But will Louis fulfill his end of this fateful bargain?

Won’t You Please Come Around | mature | 5k+ | read here on ao3

Harry has lived in London for a month, and so far the only friend he’s made is his sister’s cat, Mr. Whiskers. When the lock on the window breaks, Mr. Whiskers begins exploring his new neighbourhood a bit too thoroughly and brings back mementos of his escapes. Or a Valentine’s Day story where Harry has a really fit neighbour, and his cat is a thief.

Let Me Kiss You | mature | 3k+ | read here on ao3

Harry Styles is on top of the world. He’s moving to Chicago to live in a kick ass apartment that he’s sharing with his old college friend, Niall. When their old college crew makes plans to hang out, Harry realizes he will be coming face to face with his unrequited crush, Louis.

haven’t you heard | explicit | 8k | read here on ao3

Harry Styles has been in love with Louis Tomlinson since they were eighteen. After six years together, Harry is ready to propose to the love of his life. The holidays strike him as the perfect time for a romantic proposal, but his well-meaning friends and family (including his self-appointed best friend, Niall) seem to thwart him at every turn. Or the four times Harry tries to propose, and the one time he gets it right.

but tonight (you’re on my mind) | explicit | 36k | read here on ao3

Pairing: Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson (Tomlinshaw)

Nick’s friendship with the lead singer of Seventy Eight has come with a new circle of people including an entrancing, blue eyed drummer. But what brings them together can also tear them apart.

And I Could Hear the Thunder | mature | 1/? WIP | read here on ao3

Harry prepares to inherit his family’s estate, and Louis is the mysterious boy living in the manor to the north.