#sometimes i find a bunch of untied ones in my pockets waiting to turn into hair ties bc i just shove them into my pockets w/o thinking

[wellnesscard]

not sure if i ever posted this but ive been doing it for a few years now: if u ever feel guilty about throwing away your disposable face mask, u can always rip off the ear bands and they make perfect hairties if u tie the ends together :-)

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Day 5

Prompt:  Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience.

Word Count: 1,730

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01,​​​ @spoopy-turtle,​​​ @lizluvscupcakes,​​ @more-fandon-than-friends​, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus, @gayboopnoodle, @sanderssidesweirdo, @the-sympathetic-villain

Soulmate taglist:(Send an ask to be added or removed!) @elizabutgayer, @melodiread, @tsshipmonth2020, @mikalya12

CW: Panic attacks, anxiety, mentions of self depreciation, mentions of horror.

Logan felt another burst of anxiety deep in his gut and sighed. This was the tenth time in three days, he was starting to be worried for his soulmate. He focused on his breathing, feeling for the familiar tug of emotion. After years of doing this, he’d ‘hacked the system’ so to speak by figuring out where the emotional connection was in his head. Once he’d figured that out, it was a simple matter of pushing emotions across it. So, he did that. He pushed a strong calm over to his soulmate, hoping their anxiety would lessen. He breathed out a sigh of relief when it did, when the pit of doubt left his stomach and his throat opened back up, when he didn’t have to struggle to keep his thoughts clear instead of giving in and drowning in the hate his brain spewed at him in that moment.

He hated the way the anxiety made him feel but also knew that his was tame compared to his soulmate’s. To combat it, he started happy stimming, flapping his hands near his face until he was grinning. He didn’t realize he was pushing his happiness through the connection until he felt the joy being radiated back. He stopped stimming, letting his hands falling back onto the library cart bring him out of his thoughts and remind him of his current task: to reshelf books.

Logan loved working at the library. He loved getting to read as much as he wanted, to have the ability to interact with a bunch of people or choose to stay by himself. The best thing about working in the library is that he got to see people’s faces light up when they found a book. Whether it’s the next book in a series they were reading, a book they’d almost forgotten about, one they had cherished memories of as a child, or a new one they were finding for the first time, he loved seeing the different expressions on peoples faces.

Today would be a good day for that as the library had invited a local author to come in and read his books aloud. Not many knew this, but he had two different pen names. One he used to write children’s books, the other was used to write horror stories with the main focus being human vs nature. Logan had researched the man extensively last night, not getting to sleep until a few hours before he had to get up for work.

The door jingled and a man in a hoodie walked in, making his way over to the children’s section. Logan watched him go, wondering what brought him here today, the reason for his visit to that particular section. When Logan saw him reach out a brush a spine, a soft smile lighting his face, he knew it was a nostalgic visit. He went back to his work, finishing in the adult section and moving to the children’s.

He saw that the tall man had sat down in a comically small chair compared to his height, his leg bouncing in some sort of anticipation. Logan felt the anxiety curling into his stomach again, making him want to curl up on the ground or scream in an emotion he was unable to put words to. Instead, he finished putting the books away and walked up to the man, ignoring the voice in his head that was telling him everyone was watching him at all times.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Logan sat on the ground beside the man, watching the way his head ducked further into his hood.

“Something like that.” The man muttered. His fingers were pulling on his sleeves even while his leg was vibrating. There was something unknown but familiar in the man that made Logan curious about him.

“You look like you could use a distraction.” He said, finally pinpointing the reason the man looked just the slightest bit off.

He chuckled but Logan knew there was little to no mirth in it. “Sure, that’d be nice.” Even so, his voice was genuine.

So, Logan started talking about bookbinding and the differences between modern and medieval Europe. He talked for a half hour or so. During that time, he felt the knot of anxiety untie and slip away, his thoughts clear, and an almost giddy sensation come from across the bond. He paused and realized that the giddiness was coming from him and being reflected back across the bond like a loop.

Logan smiled at the man sitting next to him, carefully watching him. He was no longer hunched into himself, no longer hiding from the world. He seemed to be relaxed, his shoulders were down and his head was up, hood thrown back. His leg was no longer bouncing and his hands were no longer tugging at his sleeves. He had a smile on his face and, in that instance, Logan was sure he could talk to this man for hours and never lose his attention.

Logan didn’t resume talking about his latest hyperfixation, glancing at his watch instead. “I need to get ready.”

The man reached out as Logan stood, helping him up but also glancing at his watch before a panicked look crossed his face. “Shoot, is it really that time already?”

Logan nodded. “My watch is always on time. Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Here. I just didn’t expect time to fly so fast.”

“Well, you know what they say about having fun.” Logan began tidying up the area, getting the small chairs and soft sitting surfaces to face the chair the man was sitting in as it seemed to be against the wall already. He found the copy of the book that was to be read and placed it on the table nearby before standing by the door.

The head librarian walked up to Logan. “What have you been doing with V. A. Strand this whole time?!”

Logan’s head would have spun around if he were in a cartoon. “What do you mean? Are you telling me that the random man I helped down from a near panic attack is the author who’s reading to the children today?!”

She looked at him like he was stupid. “Of course!”

Logan looked back to see the man,  V. A., smiling and greeting all the children and parents who filed in. He politely refused autographs and pictures but did allow the children hugs, which Logan thought was sweet. He hadn’t realized he’d been talking to one of his favorite authors of all time about bookbinding of all things for half an hour. Logan shook his head, perfectly content with the way the conversation went, the way he was able to calm the man down, the smile he got at the end of it. None of that time was wasted, neither was it made more special simply because he now knew the man’s identity. It was simply a slightly shocking discovery.

He nodded at that thought and turned back, watching the way V. A didn’t have to look at the book, knowing exactly which words were on which pages, what the pictures looked like. Logan wondered how many late nights he spent, pouring his ideas into words. Logan knew the man illustrated his own books and wondered how long it must take.

The reading was over before Logan was aware. About halfway through, he’d been told to get back to work so he grabbed a new cart and was at it reshelving books. He tried to listen in to the reading, wanting to keep talking with and to V. A., someone he’d only exchanged a few words with but he was already desperate to know their opinion on anything and everything. He wanted to know what he had rattling around in that head. After all, no one can be that quiet without having something on their mind. True, they could simply be quiet, but that meant they were either allowing their mind to wander or they were having thoughts on the discussion. Either one deserved to have those thoughts heard and appreciated.

Logan hadn’t noticed the reading was over until a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned his head to look and found the object of his thoughts staring back at him, hand retreating back into his hoodie pocket. Logan smiled. “Can I help you with something?”

He nodded. “I think we might be soulmates?” The sentence came out as a question rather than the statement he surely must have meant.

Logan’s smile only faltered slightly in shock, the thought never having crossed his mind before then. “Why do you think that?”

He seemed to draw into himself, his shoulders rising and his head ducking down the slightest bit. Logan wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to tell him everything was going to be fine. He didn’t, instead, he waited for him to speak. “Earlier when you helped calm my anxiety, I could feel a calm and almost giddy feeling as you talked. I don’t find bookbinding particularly delightful so I knew it had to come from someone else. I don’t know, I guess you seemed to be the obvious choice.” He shook his head. “Sorry, it sounds stupid now.”

He turned to go but Logan reached out a hand and gently grabbed his elbow. His hoodie fabric was as soft as it looked. “Hey, no. It’s not stupid. I hadn’t thought of it until now, too caught up in enjoying talking with you, but it feels like it’s possible. You wanna test it?”

He turned back, leaving Logan’s hand on his elbow. “How?”

“How many times have you panicked or had excessive anxiety over the past three days?”

“Including both times today? Eleven.” The statement was accompanied with a wince of embarrassment, as if he were ashamed of having emotions.

Logan nodded, a smile splitting across his face. “That’s as many times as I’ve felt it from you.” His shrug was much more nonchalant than V. A.’s was just now. “So, do you wanna get a donut from the shop down the street and chat sometime soon?”

He laughed. “That sounds nice. Although, I guess we should exchange names and numbers as well.”

They did so and V. A., no Virgil, walked out the library door, waving to Logan on his way out.

[wormstacheangel]

Day 3: Demonic

Word Count: 1888

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

---

Rowena had someone coming for her crown and while the Winchesters aren’t for hire, having his Aunty Rowena on the throne has been a big help. They didn’t close the gates of hell or heaven but instead run them. Jack and Cas upstairs while Rowena ran hell with a little help from Sam. Dean was mostly on call from whoever needed him. Also, Sam likes to point out that Purgatory was all his for the taking according to the rumors.

Right now though Rowena needed him to find the demon making a secret army to overtake the crown. Simple enough that he said he’ll do it himself. It was just one demon and his dumb army. He just fought God and won, he’s surprised they’re any monsters still willing to pick a fight with them.

The thing was that nobody said this damn demon was going to be so annoying.

“Buddy, I know you got those kamikaze bombers going for the Queen so you might as well call them off,” Dean says as he leans against the desk in their dungeon with the demon trapped in the, well the damn demon trap. 

The demon hasn’t said a damn word since he brought him down here. Only smiled because he thought he was being a cocky son of a bitch but Dean was too tired to deal with regular demon crap. He wished they would just tell him what he wants to hear so he could be on his way but they never made it easy for him.

Dean sighed as he twirled the angel blade in his hands as he sat up and took the few steps towards him. To stand just at the edge of the trap. “You know, if you ain’t talking I don’t have to keep you alive. Shit, I would have killed you even though you were talking but I guess you aren’t useful to me after all. Probably not even the right demon. They said this demon was smart and he’s a leader demons can depend on or whatever but you…” Dean looked the demon up and down before shrugging. “Meh. You look like any other basic bitch. Nothing special.”

“I am the future of hell!” The demon hissed at him and Dean found his weak spot. His pride. Not really a surprise. “I will be a leader that will not roll over for the Winchesters or anybody for that matter! My army would kill that red-headed bit-Ah!”

Dean squirted the demon with holy water from Jack’s tiny water gun. He chuckled when he got him right in the eye but then glared back at the demon. “Now, let’s be civil and keep from the name-calling. Just tell me where your army is. I mean, don’t you wanna see how strong they are? If they can defeat me then damn I’m sure all of hell will follow you with no hesitation. Since, you know, I killed Hitler.”

“I don’t need my army to kill you. I can do it myself.” The demon laughed and it was darker, clearly knows something Dean doesn’t. “I forgot to tell you. We also captured a little leverage not that long ago. Why do you think I let you take me so easily?”

“Cause you suck?”

The demon, clearly not amused, continued his evil person speech that made Dean roll his eyes and groan as he paced around the trap. 

“Do you think we didn’t know Rowena would call on you two for help? We couldn’t stand by and let a Winchester rule alongside the Queen! What an embarrassment to be taking ordered from that overgrown son of a-” Dean waved the water gun around again. “So I took matters into my own hands. I figured we couldn’t get to your brother but sometimes the new God sends one of his Daddy’s to do some work here on Earth without supervision. Without back up.”

“Cas?”

“Oh, we have your precious little Angel somewhere hidden away from you and your God.”

Dean walked into the devil’s trap and held the blade to the demon’s throat. “You have five seconds to tell me where he is or I’ll kill you.”

“You will never find him without me and I will never reveal him until after my bomb-Ahh!”

“Time’s up.” Dean finally pulls the blade out of the demon’s chest as soon as his screams die out. Then he was on the phone calling the dumb angel that let himself be jumped again.

 After the third ring, Cas answers with a tired, “Hello Dean.”

“You’re a dumbass you know that.”

“I figured you will say something like that but I’m fine they just wa-oof!” Dean can hear Cas groan out in pain and Dean was already out of the dungeon with his keys in his hands. “Where the hell are you?”

“Dean Winchester.” Someone says and Dean was too mad to deal with another speech from demonic asshats. “What a nice-”

“Just tell me where to meet you and quick. I would like to kill you before dinner.”

A short laugh from the demon as she said, “Funny.” 

“Well I try my-” Dean started but then he heard a groan from Cas before a coughing fit started. That alone made Dean tense up as his boy heated up in anger that really should scare just about anyone who dared mess with family. 

The demon then quickly told him their location, an obvious trap but who cares now. The only problem was that they wanted a trade. The dead demon, that he was positive they didn’t know was dead, for Cas. Well, he hopes they like surprises cause the only thing they are going to get from Dean is a one-way ticket to the damn Empty for laying a damn finger on his husband.

The trip went just as expected. Dean pretended the demon was in the trunk of his Baby and killed the first few that came to check it out. Then he was walking inside the old-looking house with the angel blade in hand hoping that Cas hasn’t prayed to their son yet because then he’ll start to worry again.

Jack wasn’t the biggest fan of Cas going fully human, to be honest, Dean wasn’t either, for the same reason as Cas not being able to heal himself. Now they were constantly worried that the new fully human Cas scraped his knee somewhere. Or worse, made himself into bait by a bunch of demons who thought was a great idea to kidnap one of God’s dads.

As soon as he walked into the house he called out for Cas. He got some lady, probably the demon from the phone, answer from upstairs. While he made his way upstairs he noticed a couple of demons standing sideline downstairs but he can deal with those later. It’s not like he was in a hurry or anything. 

“Okay,” Dean walked over to the wide-open door where he could already see Cas tied up to a chair and unconscious. He knew this was a clear trap but he didn’t care as he ran over to his husband. Taking his head in his hands he quietly whispered, “Cas, honey, you okay?”

He found a pulse at least but Cas was bleeding from his nose and his cheek was starting to swell under the rag they were using as a gag. There were bruises along his wrist along with rope burns from trying to escape probably because of course Cas wouldn’t just stay put to wait for Dean to come.

“Now that you have your angel back or ex angel. A surprise that made it a lot easier for all of us actually,” Dean didn’t even turn around to face the talking demon as he started to untie Cas. “Let’s discuss our fair trade. I will ignore that you killed our people as long as you let our leader go.”

“Yeah, your leader is dead.”

“W-what?”

“Gone. Fin. Rotting in my dungeon at home as we speak.”

“But we had a deal!”

“What you got me here, didn’t you? I’m sure there was something else that was supposed to happen.” Dean says as finally unties Cas and then removes the dirty gag rag. “Oh man, he’ll have to get some shots after having that in his mouth. You know how long it took me to convince him to get a flu shot.”

Dean was then thrown against the wall because of course, he was. The angry demon stalked towards him and Dean realized he left the blade by Cas’s side. He reached for the gun in his pocket only to be pinned to the wall now, a not so new trick he was also tired of. 

“I’m gonna guess that you’re not happy,” Dean said between his teeth as the woman stood in front of him. Her fingers reaching to caress his cheek, not creepy at all but most importantly he didn’t know where her hands have been. Everything in this dump was dirty. Dean’s gonna have to burn their clothes after this. “So, you wanna share your big overthrow the government plan or…?”

Of course, she did. Dean was only really half-listening as other demons started to walk in and make a beeline for Cas, who still rested unconsciously on the dirty chair. Dean delivered a threat to them to not touch his husband but of course, that was ignored as they reached to throw Cas over one of their shoulders. 

Then he heard the demon lady’s words, “Wait, Cas’s the bomb?”

“Who else can get close to the Queen?” She smiled with her black coal eyes sparkling. “Don’t worry you’ll work for us too. Get that brother of yours out of the way.”

“That’s a terrible plan.” Dean tried to turn his head towards the voice of his husband who must have hidden the blade somewhere because the next thing he knows he hears screaming then another scream and one more for good measure. “You should pick me up like that more often, Dean.”

Dean smiled as he rolled his eyes fondly. “I’ll do that now but I’m kind of preoccupied with the whole being stuck to the wall thing.”

“You suck at rescue missions.” Cas teased him as the demon waved her hand to try to push Cas against his own wall but Cas was quicker as he threw the blade across the room to be buried into the demon’s chest. 

Cas was by his side at once as he kneeled down beside Dean and took his face in his hands now, giving him a once over. He rested his forehead against Dean’s own and for a second they just sat still like that, letting the relief of the other being okay run through them but the demons running up the stairs had terrible timing. They also angered the scariest human in heaven and Dean loved seeing how badass Cas looked in a fight.

They called Sam after it was all over to let him know what happened and it was a quick call because his husband was being too grabby now.

“Don’t you dare kiss me until you brush your teeth!”

“Then let’s go home and take a hot shower together.”

“Fine but it won’t be sexy cause I’m scrubbing you clean.”

[badsext]

What I Could Do With A Pen

My inspiration: I remember being a high school theatre kid hanging out backstage during rehearsals. We’d give each other massages and play with each other’s hair, but my favorite thing was when someone would take out a pen and draw on me. There was something so relaxing, and maybe a bit naughty, but definitely intimate, even sensual about it…

***Contains language and smmmut***

While working for an entertainment news website you meet Robert Sheehan at a press event. This isn’t your first interview, but probably your most significant. Umbrella academy season two is coming out in two weeks and he and his cast mates were there to promote it. You’d admit to being a casual fan of his, but no more. Plus you know as well as anyone that celebrities are rarely who they seem to be in the media. So why are you so nervous?

He comes in wearing tight black jeans, a deep v neck sweater and a bunch of funky jewelry. You manage to calm your nerves and the interview goes better than expected. Robert is so passionate about his character and it’s refreshing how candid his answers are. You have gotten used to actors looking bored on these press junkets. Robert seems to actually kind of enjoy it. It’s hard not to get charmed by his enthusiasm. You find yourself getting a little sad as the interview wraps up, but you try to put it out of your mind.

Then just as you have resigned yourself to never seeing him again he catches you packing up your stuff to go home. “Thank you for asking intelligent questions,” Y/N

“Well, thank you for actually giving a shit about this interview, Robert.” you reply, cringing at your tone of voice. His name sounds strange on your tongue post-interview.

“Call me Robbie. And I get it. Actors don’t always respect these things, sometimes I’m guilty of that too, but you made it fun.” You feel your cheeks blush.

Then he asks to exchange numbers, but instead of reaching for his phone, he grabs a pen. That’s odd, you think to yourself. You go to reach for your phone, but instead, he grabs your hand. “May, I?” He asks. You nod. He holds your hand, palm facing up and pulls the pen cap off with his teeth. You notice he’s left handed. He first writes ‘Robbie,’ as if to distinguish this one from the dozens of other phone numbers written on your hand, you laugh to yourself. Then you notice the sensation of the pen sliding across your palm. It feels good. He takes his time and when he’s done he looks up at you. His eyes search yours as if asking a question. You get lost for a second, then realize that it’s your turn to give him your number. He hands you the pen. As you begin writing your name on his palm you hear him inhale. He closes his eyes and bites his lip. Seeing him react this way sends a surprise tingle running down your body. It’s hard to separate yourself from him. Your heart is beating fast now and you’re afraid you might embarrass yourself if you linger any longer.

“I have to go back to my hotel and make some edits” you mumble. “Maybe I’ll see you later” you add, trying to sound as casual as possible with the moist heat rising between your legs.

You walk out to your car silently screaming. FUCK! What was that?!

You drive back to the hotel in a haze and take an actual cold shower followed by a big glass of chilled white wine. You open your laptop to make the edits and quickly realize that looking at the interview footage is only going to make you horny again. What happened to my sense of professionalism?, you think as you pour another yourself another glass of wine. Your mind wanders and so does your hand. You’re seconds away from making yourself cum when a buzz from your nightstand startles you half to death.

Robbie texted you - I know this is crazy, but can I come over to see you?

Your fingers start typing and before you’ve even had time to think, you’ve pasted the address of the hotel and your room number into the text and hit send. God damn it!

Now your mind is racing. You are wearing just a robe. You consider changing back into the clothes you were wearing for the interview so you don’t look too thirsty. But then fuck that! You are both adults. You know exactly what this is! Wait, what is this? Just as your internal dialogue starts spiraling out of control you hear a knock at the door.

It’s Robbie. He is standing there barefoot with a bottle in one hand and a box in the other, wearing an open, knee length floral silk robe and boxer briefs. You invite him in, breathless.

“Sorry if I freaked you out. I am staying at this hotel. Upstairs in the penthouse.” He says apologetically.

“I brought us some desert.” He sets the box and the wine on the table and sits down in a chair. You can’t help but laugh at the situation. It’s three o'clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday and Robert Sheehan has left his penthouse suite for your hotel room half naked with wine and pastry.

“This is so weird” you say.

“I like weird,” he smiles.

“I like it too.” You are convinced now. This is happening. You allow your robe to become slightly parted at the chest, still too nervous to make a move and so you keep talking. “So, why aren’t we in the Penthouse right now?,” you ask.

“It’s too big and empty up there,” he says pouring wine and taking a sip. You can hear the loneliness in his voice. His vulnerability is sexy. It encourages your boldness. You lean against the wall in front of him and slowly untie your robe. He stands up and slides his hand up the curve of your waist to your breast and runs his thumb lightly over your sensitive nipple.

“You have no tattoos and yet you are always playing characters with them. Why is that?,” you say looking over his tight, lean torso, tracing your finger along his chest.

“Well, I could give you the bullshit answer I’d give in an interview or I could show you.” He reaches into the pocket of his robe and hands you a pen. He lets his silk robe fall off his shoulders and pool on the carpet at his feet.

Your hesitation is gone. Something about this just makes sense to you. You press him into the wall with the pen in your hand. When the pen makes contact with his skin you watch him swallow hard. First you write your name and then a series of patterns and lines, a stream of consciousness. Each pen stroke makes him squirm and groan with pleasure. You savor each reaction. His cock is pressing up against his boxer briefs. You kneel down and lightly press your face against the fabric before pulling them down. You take him into your mouth, grazing his other sensitive bits with the back of your hand, feeling his blood pulse and further stiffen his cock. You slowly start working his length, but he stops you, not wanting to come yet.

He pulls you up to eye level and kisses you hungrily, causing both of to tumble backwards into the chair. He parts your wetness with his hand and then looks you in the eyes while he tastes you off his fingers. His green eyes are glassy and dilated. He slides below you and begins licking your clit, which soon turns to gentle rhythmic sucking. The orgasm makes you shudder and writhe in the chair. You cry out at the moment of your release.

Robbie lifts you up and pulls you down on top of him in the adjacent bed. You slide down on his cock and start riding him. Your hair is falling all around you and your perky little tits bounce subtly. He looks up at you with intensity, biting his lip. He grabs your ass. You stretch out on top of him so you can grind your clit against him while he is inside you. You are fucking him so hard, taking what you want. This orgasm is so powerful it puts the previous one to shame. Your muscles squeeze him so tightly, you feel his orgasm gush inside you.

You collapse in his arms, looking down at your artwork and then suddenly feel a flood of emotions. Maybe it’s the intensity of the sex or the newness of it all, but you feel your eyes welling up with tears.

“What is it, love?,” he is holding your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry I got so carried away.”

“This?,” he gestures to the words on his chest. “Y/N, I thought you understood. This is my thing. Don’t you dare feel bad. That was amazing. You are amazing - and look…” He wets his finger in his mouth and wipes at the design on his arm. It’s only temporary. “I have a whole system for getting this off my skin that involves baby oil and I definitely want you to be a part of it,” he smiles.

You smile back, taking a big sip of wine. He brings the pastries over to the bed and starts feeding you. The rest of the night is filled with more wine, room service and getting to know each other better.

@amyyrobertss3 @oopsdude @watermelon-slyz @badboysobsession @this-bitch-actually @litzyruiz123 @greta-myk @jaekoo @illuminevie @death-lie @xdtrashy

[crimsonheart01]

I’ll Be Happy Once Again (Coco x OC/Reader)

On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, an old marine friend came searching.

Word Count: 3.906

Playlist: Please Come Home for Christmas - Eagles

Knowing that he wouldn’t ever have another chance, Coco snuck out from his bunk. He knew that she would be sound asleep at this time, and he’d be long gone by morning. He crept across the courtyard, keeping out of sight from the lookouts. When he reached her bunker, he slipped past the door and counted the beds until he came to the foot of hers.

He stood at the end of her bed, watching her breath. The steady intake of breath calming him. He inhaled, and gently sat himself down on the edge of her mattress. He leaned forward and brushed the hair out of her face. He didn’t have ant regrets. That wasn’t how he operated.

Regardless, he’d miss her. The closest friend he’d made in a long time. Someone who understood his need for quiet solitude. Someone he could confide in without even having to say a word. They laughed together, and they raged together. She had his back on every mission. He never had to worry about his back being vulnerable. Not with her.

Licking his lips, he leaned forward and reached under her cot, grabbing her duffel bag. He inched it out until it was between his feet. He untied the leather bracelet around his wrist and folded it into the envelope he carried in with him. He shoved both into the far pocket, deep into the depths of her bag.

He shoved the bag back into place and paused. He rest both his elbows on the corresponding knees and ran his fingers into his hair. With his head bowed he wondered if he was doing this backwards. Maybe she’d want him to say goodbye in person. He sighed. It was too late. The order had been made.

He was being dishonourably discharged. With an order to be gone before the sun rose the next morning. He closed his eyes, remembering the moment everything went south. Pride of his superior getting in the way of his skill set. Sometimes bruised egos resulted in loss of personnel. He wasn’t sorry, but he would miss being a part of the unit.

With a shake of his head, he turned back to her sleeping form. He laid a hand on her forearm. He toyed with the idea of kissing her, but thought it wasn’t fair. Not for him, and not for her. It should be her choice. Not one he made for her. He squeezed her wrist, hoping that in whatever dream land she was visiting, she felt the subtle farewell.

She stirred slightly and he waited, wondering if she’d wake. After a moment she settled back down, rolling onto her other side, her back to him. He took that as his sign, stood up and snuck back out of her tent and back across to his own. He had some last minute packing to do.

~(MMC)~

The next morning was a rush of dressing and running out to my assigned post. The day was long and hot, but the silver lining was the few hours of layover that Cruz and I had in the pit. Typically, we worked opposite shifts, having a similar skill set, but on occasion they paired us up. When we weren’t working on the same mission, we had the unspoken routine of meeting in the mess hall to catch each other up on our unit members and to deal out bets won or lost.

I methodically stripped down to my basic uniform before rushing back to my bunk to grab my toiletries. A quick shower was in need after being out in the sun all day long. I had good news for him today. We won the bet on Johnston shooting himself in the foot – literally. The kid was a mess, and we all knew it was coming. Thankfully, we bet within the right timeframe and would be splitting the pot. Nolasco was going to be pissed.

I dried my hair, braided it back away from ym face and put on a clean uniform. I grabbed a pack of cigarettes, the ones I always had sent up from my hometown for him and made my way out to the mess hall. I strode through the front entrance with a huge smile on my face. I bee lined for our unofficially reserved table only to reach it and find it empty.

I glanced around the room, finding that all his other unit members were present. All except him. I spotted his second, Smith, and as soon as our eyes met, he ducked his head. Something was up. I stormed over to his table and loomed over him.

“Where’s Cruz?” I demanded.

Smith stared at the floor, shaking his head. The gravity of his reaction hit me and my stomach plummeted. Something was very wrong. If he’d been an ass and got bathroom duty there would’ve been a sly smile. Smith was downright refusing to meet my eyes, or even look at me.

“What happened?” I pushed, perching down on the bench below me.

Smith sighed, “Discharged.”

My mouth dried. That couldn’t be. There’d been a mistake.

“What?” I croaked.

“He’s gone.” Smith reiterated, “Shot the cigar out of our officer’s mouth.”

I shook my head, “He wouldn’t be that stupid.”

Smith closed his eyes, his head bowing, “He’s not coming back.”

I shot up, knocking the bench out from under me. I swore under my breath and took a moment to compose myself before holding myself high as I calmly walked out of the tent. Once I was through the doors, I let out the breath I was holding. I could feel tears prickling in the corner of my eyes but I held them at bay.

I sped across the compound and burst into his quarters. A few of the guys there yelped at my sudden appearance, but once they realized who I was they all quieted down. I scanned the beds until I found the only one that didn’t have any sheets.

With deliberate steps, I made my way down the aisle and found myself standing at the foot of his bed. Everything was gone. Not even a cigarette butt left. Somewhere deep down, I had hope that he left me something. Something to remind me of himself. Or a way to find him outside of service. But there was nothing. All I had were memories. Ones that would would eventually blur into oblivion.

“Shit, Cruz.” I fell down onto his empty cot.

Not a single thing left to be reminded of him. All I knew was his name and that he was from the United States. How was I supposed to find him? We never found a reason to share that kind of intimate information. Was it silly of me to assume we’d always be around? I should’ve thought ahead. Now I was without one of my closest friends. Gone forever.

~(MMC)~

… years later …

“Babe?” I heard my fiancé call from down the hall?

I poked my head out the door, “Yeah?”

I spotted him at the end of the hall, dragging a bunch of stored bags down from the attic.

“Wanna come take a look through these? See what’s to keep and what’s to donate?”

I nodded, “Give me five and I’ll be right over.”

I heard his mumbled response and I smiled. I turned back into the closest and continued packing away all the towels and linens. As a Christmas present to ourselves, we decided to buy a house. It wasn’t anything huge. A bungalow in the nice area of town. I sighed, knowing that I still had doubts but couldn’t place why. I was happy. Although it felt like something was missing.

I tried not to dwell on the paranoia I held in the back of my mind. We’d been together sine before the end of my last tour. We met while I was on leave and then continued an undisclosed relationship while I was away overseas. He was a good man. He loved me and treated me proper. He was safe.

Maybe that was my problem. I was used to being on edge, on the run. Always looking over my shoulder, or watching my fellow Marine’s back. I wasn’t used to being settled down., and definitely not comfortable with buying a house.

I knelt down next to the filled box and taped it up. With a sharpie I labeled it ‘Hall Closet’. I lifted it onto the stack of other finished boxes and with clap of my hands I moved over to the spare room where he’d dumped all the bags from up in the attic. I ruffled through the first few, seeing that they were old and out of season clothes.

I divided everything into two piles. Donate and Keep. With a methodical approach, I empty each bag and made a logical decision about the contents within them. It wasn’t until the last one that I thought about just tossing the entire thing. I stared down at my service duffel. I hadn’t opened it since I last packed it up. There were some harsh memories deep within the fabric of that item.

I breathed in, closed my eyes and found my center. There was never going to be a better time than now. I couldn’t keep hauling the bag around from house to house unopened. I needed to face fears. Truth be told, it wasn’t really fear of bad memories. It was fear of the nostalgia. The yearn of going back. Feeling that pull once again.

I was worried that if I opened the bag I’d jump back into service. Something I worked hard to not have to go back too. I did my time. I served my country. I wanted my time to explore who I was now. Find my own identity.

With a deep breath in, I reached forward and unzipped the army green bag. The main part was filled with my boots and old uniform. A few extra shirts and all my paperwork. I took out the papers and placed them in the keep pile. I reached into the side pockets, finding them empty. Then I rummaged around in the back pocket.

First thing I found were my dog tags. I smiled as I held them up. I folded them into the palm of my hand and slid them into my pocket. I didn’t want to lose these. I went back to the pocket, making sure nothing else was left behind when my fingers brushed against something smooth. I grabbed it and pulled.

A bracelet and a letter came popping into existence. I swallowed. That was a bracelet I hadn’t seen for years. They belonged to someone I hadn’t thought of in a long time. Longer than I knew my fiancé for. I fingered the leather, letting it roll onto my wrist. It was a bit too big but was easily resized. I tugged on the ends until it was snug. I flipped the envelop over and saw my name scrawled in his familiar writing.

My heart stopped. Where had this come from? How had I never found it before. How long had it been sitting in my bag? I twirled the paper between my fingers. Did I want to know the contents of the envelope? I bit my lip. Of course I did.

With shaking hands, I flipped it over and slid a finger under the sealed portion breaking it open. I pulled out the folded papers, and found myself looking at a long letter, written on both sides. I swallowed, tears forming as I began to read the familiar writing.

I read through the letter three times before I fully comprehended what he was getting at.

I rolled my lips together, “Shit Cruz.”

I glanced down at his signature line, where he left the name of a city. Santo Padre. It was my hint. I let the tears fall. He left my something of him after all. I spent all these years forcing myself to forget him. At what cost? Had he been waiting for me? Was I too late?

I ripped out my phone and googled the city. IT was in the southernmost California. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and I startled, dropping my phone and shoving the letter into the back pocket of my jeans. I turned around, hoping that my fiancé bypassed this room and kept going.

He called out to me as he passed, letting me know he was thinking of ordering in for dinner and I collapsed down into a heap on the floor. I stared down at the city on google maps. Was it too late?

~(MMC)~

My fingers gripped the top of the car door. My knuckles white with stress. I stared up at the large junk yard sign. I hoped I was in the right place. It was hard enough that it was Christmas eve. If I was in the wrong place, it wouldn’t be likely that I could find someone to help me out. Not at this time of the year.

I sighed, slammed the door shut and reached through the window into my bag. I grabbed the envelope, stuffing it into the inside pocket of my jacket. I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck. I tried to relieve as much built up stress as possible. I wasn’t sure what I was walking into. This could be the worst plan I’d ever have in my life.

I up and left my fiancé in the middle of the night. Caught a red eye to San Diego then rented a car and drove the two hours outside of the city to Santo Padre. All the research I’d done led me to this scrap yard. I wasn’t sure what was behind the gate, but I hoped Cruz would be there. I patted the area on the front of my leather jacket where the letter was sitting, making sure it was still there.

I gathered all my courage and walk around the small opening in the front gate. I assumed the place would be deserted, or at least closed. I was trying to convince myself not to get my hopes up but at the same time every nerve ending in my body was alight at the simple thought that I might get to see my old best friend again.

I rounded the corner and found an open courtyard with lines of motorcycles. Harley’s to be exact. I gulped. All warnings in my head starting to go off. I spotted an office off to my right and then what looked like a cantina little further ways ahead. My boots kicked up dust as I walked into the middle of the compound.

I held my head high, not wanting to seem frightened. I glanced over at the office and the door was open but I couldn’t see anyone in there. I opted to make my way to the bar. If there were people about, it would definitely be in the bar.

I didn’t make it far into my trek when a group of men began filing out of the doors and down the steps. I stopped immediately, scanning my environment. A man with a thick mustache and leather vest was the first to spot me. He took a few steps towards me. In an attempt to look less threatening I tucked my hands into my jean pockets.

“Can we help you?” He asked, the Spanish accent subtle but still distinguished.

I nodded, “I’m looking for Johnny. Johnny Cruz.”

The mans eyebrows shot up and he glanced to his left. I followed his eyes but was disappointed when it wasn’t Cruz. The man beside him shifted, falling behind and stepping back into the bar.

“May I ask who you are?” The first man inquired. 
 I looked back at him, “Ex-Marine. Cruz and I served together.”

The man pouted in approval. An understated shock lining his features. I was used to that reaction. It was strange, but still in today’s day and age, men found it surprising when women were service members. Especially Marines.

There was a commotion over by the doors to the cantina. Another group of men came out and unfortunately I still couldn’t spot Cruz. I visibly deflated. I was starting to think that I came to the wrong place and these guys were plotting something sinister. I took a step backwards and ‘Mustache’ noticed.

“No need to worry, carina.” He soothed.

I opened my mouth to give him a scathing retort when my last name echoed into the area around us. My head shot up and I was staring at Cruz. He was scruffy, but still Cruz. I stared at him, all confidence gone. I was a deer caught in headlights. What was I doing here again?

Most of the men backed off as Cruz made his way towards me. He stopped a few feet away. We stared at one another. His confusion and contempt obvious while my expression emulated distress.

“What are you doing here?” Cruz questioned.

I opened my mouth and no sound came out. I squeezed my eyes shut and stilled my racing emotions. Clarity hit me again and I reached into my jacket pocket. As I made the move, Cruz pulled his gun forward, aiming it at the ground but at the ready. I held up my hands in surrender before continuing. 
 I dipped my fingers into my pocket and pulled out the letter. As I held it up between us, the sleeve of my jacket slipped down, revealing his old leather bracelet. His eyes shot between the bracelet and the letter before narrowing the slightest bit.

“I found it yesterday.” I explained, “After all these years. I thought you were lost to me. Nothing left behind. Nothing but your name.” I paused, taking a breath before continuing, “I didn’t even know where you called home. You were there one minute and the next you were gone. I lost my best friend overnight. You left without a word, Cruz. I had to learn from Smith what happened. And then - “ I began to stutter, “and then I moved on. I forced myself to forget you. to forget the comradery, we built. It worked. I focused on the tours and then one day someone else came into my life. Someone completely opposite to you. Safe, secure, ordinary.”

I gulped, realizing where my rant was leading too. A place where I had trouble going myself and wasn’t sure I was ready to blurt it all out in front of a group of strange men and a man I didn’t know well anymore.

“Why are you here?” He said again.

I frowned, shaking my head. The tears were at critical level now. If I didn’t turn around every man in immediate area was about to witness my uncharacteristic breakdown. I breathed out and shoved the letter back into my pocket and retreated. I took a few steps backwards without breaking eye contact until it was too much. I whipped around and sped walked out of the yard and back around the gate.

I tried to catch my breath but it came in hitched intervals. The onset of a panic attack. Seeing him was making me come to terms with my predicament. Forcing me to finally address what I was shoving down and ignoring. I reached the car and slammed both my hands on the hood. I took a moment to try and compose myself. At least enough to drive.

I pushed away and reached for my door when someone caught my wrist. I gasped, spinning to find Cruz standing there, his eyes imploring.

“Why did you come?” He asked for a third time.

I huffed, angrily wiping away the wetness from my cheeks.

“Can’t you say anything else? Or are you a mimic now? Asking me the same question over and over isn’t going to help any.”

He licked his lips, “You haven’t answered me.”

It was short and concise. He explained in one sentence why he kept asking. It was his way of trying to feel out the situation. Why did I come? What was I hoping to gain from this excursion? I attempted to tug my arm back but he tightened his grip around my wrist. He wasn’t going to let me run away.

He knew I knew why I came. Two peas in a pod. That’s what we were. He knew all my tricks because he used them too. He knew I was struggling. He knew I was hiding. He was forcing me to get it out. To admit why I came to him. He may not have known all the back story. That I left at the first lead, half cocked.

I didn’t care that his location wasn’t confirmed. It was the closest thing I had to seeing him again and I took off. He sensed what I was running from and wanted me to admit to it. He didn’t need to ask any other questions.

“I don’t want to get married.” I whispered.

He stared at me, his typical expression in place, “So don’t.”

I sighed, relieved. He would support my decision. It was all I needed. Him. I looked down at the engagement ring on my finger. His eyes followed mine. Without any prompting, he took his free hand and covered my other. He didn’t take it off, wanting to respect my boundaries.

Instead he waited. Without allowing myself to second guess my decision, I Reached down and plucked the ring off. I dumped it into my pocket and threw my arms around Cruz’s neck. His arms slid in around my lower back and our noses brushed against one another’s.

I breathed him in. He smelt like leather, beer and cigarettes. The latter two weren’t the most appealing, but it was Cruz and I didn’t care. I tilted my face up, allowing for more room and brought my mouth within a centimeter of his. We stared at each other momentarily before he met me the rest of the way.

My entire body exploded with reaction as his lips pressed against mine. Losing myself in the moment, I pushed against him and our kiss became hard and rushed. Years of lost time falling down around us. We had a lot to make up for. He shoved me against the side of the car, his hands roaming up my back.

Our teeth clashed against the other’s, our tongues wrestling. I threw everything I missed about him into that kiss. I threw all the years missed into it and he reciprocated. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t gentle. It was hard, rushed and passionate. We needed each other and that much was cleared. He bit down on my lip and I let out a breathy moan. A small moan echoed from the back of his throat before he pulled away.

Breathing heavily, he pressed his forehead against mine. Both of us stood there, catching our breath with our eyes closed. His grip loosened and he embraced me warmly. I laid my head against his chest, allowing my heart rate to level out. His lips brushed against my ear lobe as he made his way to leave a light kiss against my temple.

“It’s Coco now.” He murmured.

I chuckled, wanting to know the story behind that name but prepared to wait for another day.

[nowitsdarkfic]

chapter fifteen (visiting hours)

December 1, 1988. Syracuse, New York.

“Okay, so tell me what happened now.”

We're inside of the hospital I was in before when I first visited Brick. The whole place is still absurdly clean and I still wonder about all the lights and things that surround us on the way up to the intensive care unit. Spence stops me right in front of the elevator doors as they close and leave us under the veil of that new car smell. I guess visiting hours are just now opening up for the day: I figure we'll be here all day with Lars and Sonia if we must.

“You know, Barney and Billy took Brick home with them,” he starts, reaching into his pocket for something.

“Right.” I untie my scarf because it's nice and warm in here.

“And he was laying on the couch and he had those feathers growing out from his head and his neck—” He takes out a little zipped bag of pink and white candy. “—Good and Plenties?”

“Nah. You and those stupid things, I swear.” I stick my thumbs into my jeans pockets.

“They're so tasty, though. I've like these for years, Joe. These and Jujyfruit.”

“Oh, right?”

“Anyways—the feathers were getting bigger and longer with time and I guess it was aching him like crazy.” He slips a couple of those candies into his mouth. “Like while it made our skin itch, those of us on the outside looking in, I guess it was agonizing for him because whenever he woke up he'd shudder and shake from pain.”

“Shit. While I can't believe I wasn't there to help you guys out, I'm—kinda glad I wasn't there.”

“No, it was—it was hard to watch him. I'm glad you weren't there, either, because it would've wrecked you. He wasn't eating anything worth jack shit, either. And so at one point, Barney was like 'dude, Brick, you gotta eat something.' But he wouldn't.” He sticks a couple of white ones which stuck together into his mouth: that smell of licorice overtakes the new car smell pervading the floor.

“The light would hurt him, too,” he adds with his mouth full.

“Hurt him?”

“Yeah, like he'd—” He swallows it down. “—he'd totally wince and make these painful whimpers whenever either Barney or Bill turned the light on. They soon found out more feathers would grow all along his arms and his legs. It was like he was turning into a bird. It got so bad that they called me up the other day and told me to tell you, Lars, and Sonia that they were taking him to the hospital. You weren't home so I told the two of them. Sonia's been on Thanksgiving break but she's been working overtime at the upholstery place with Marcia and Lars had just gotten out of the hospital himself, which kinda scared me.”

“Yeah, we were—kinda in a car accident,” I fill in for him. And he gapes at me.

“What—the fuck, why didn't you say anything?”

“Haven't been able to—wait. I thought you knew about it?”

“No! No one said anything to me about that!”

“What the hell? I thought Dominique called Sonia and then she called everyone I knew after it happened. That's what Lars told me.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, man, I didn't hear a thing about that. I thought you were at your parents' house.”

“I was in the City seeing Soundgarden again. And then I went out to dinner with Lars, Nancy, and Dominique. I fell asleep at the wheel and we totaled the car in the Bronx. Fucked up my back for a few days, hit my head, and everything.”

He runs his hand through his hair and gapes at me as his face turns as white as a sheet.

“Holy—shit!”

“You're telling me no one told you what happened that night?” I demand to him, feeling my stomach turn.

“Yes,” he sputters out. I'm at as much of a loss for words as he is because I swear—I swear—Lars told me as we were laying in our hospital beds to not worry about calling everyone I know on what happened. I feel sick.

The third door on the right side of the hall opens and Sonia pokes her head out from the doorway. I point my finger at her.

“Hey!” I call out to her. “Why didn't you tell Spence Lars and I were both in a car accident and the two of us could've been killed?”

“You were in a car accident?” she asks me, bewildered.

“We were,” Lars' voice floats out from behind her.

“You mean—Dominique didn't call you?” I lower my hand.

“No…” She almost looks hurt.

I glance back at Spence, whose mouth is full of Good and Plenties again.

Okay, now I'm really confused.

“I'll bring it up to Dominique when I see her,” I assure the both of them, adjusting the lapels of my coat. “But right now—”

I stride down the hall towards her; Spence follows suit. Sonia fixes her hair as I meet up with her there at the doorway: the room has a bright white floor and bold bright white lights upon the ceiling. To the right is a plain white panel, one that resembles to a sound board in a recording studio, but it's all so clean and crisp. Too clean.

I turn my head to find a sheet of darkened glass stretched from the wall behind me to the one on the other side of the room. On the other side of the glass, laying in his hospital bed with tubes and wires sticking into parts of his arms and legs, bathed in rich indigo light, his arms laying out from his body like the arms on a rag doll, is Brick.

They had removed the feathers from his face and his shoulders, and smeared on some kind of cream as a result. His eyes are closed shut and he's got a little mask over his mouth: the mask is linked up to a plastic tube and the tube is snaking behind his bed to what I presume is a tank of some kind. I can see some of the shafts of the feathers remaining behind in the skin on his forearms.

Spence was right: this is hard to look at. The whole sight of it makes my stomach turn even more. In the reflection of the glass, I see Lars striding up next to me with something in his hand. I turn my head to find him walking with a black wooden cane. He rubs one eye after the other with his free hand.

“Yeah,” he remarks to me. “No one has any idea what's happening with him.”

“Billy told me they stuck the tube down his throat,” Sonia starts again, “and they found a bunch of fine trimmed wires and glimmers of neon on the inside of his mouth, right near his gullet. It's like the feathers were tearing him apart from the inside and eating him alive.”

“Neon?” I repeat that, scowling at my own faint reflection in the glass.

“Yeah. Like bright blue neon.”

“Like the neon lights we see in Seattle,” Lars adds, putting his free arm over the top of his head so as to stretch his back.

“And the same ones across the lake,” I mutter under my breath as Spence himself stands beside me.

“And they don't know if they stopped the feathers, either,” he continues. “You know, you can see the shafts growing out of his arms. They also have no idea how to rid of the wires and the neon inside of his mouth, either. It's like they're part of his body now.”

I look on at Brick, at the marks of the shafts over his forearms. There's something on his left wrist. Something that's a little more white than the rest of his skin, and it stands out because of the black lights in the ceiling over him. A little slit, like a scar I don't recognize.

Brick's my best friend: of all the hockey games we've played in, where I've had a tooth partially knocked out, he never managed to get a worse injury than a pelting in the head with a puck. If he ever got that bad of a cut anywhere on his body, I would've known about it. But this looks new, like it just happened.

I flash on the scar on Maya's forehead. But that's on her head: this is on his arm.

I also examine all the tubes and things flooding into his body.

Neon. Wires. Cybernetics. The robotic work in the house back in Boston.

This has got me thinking.

“What you thinking, Joe?” Spence asks me, tucking the Good and Plenties back into his coat pocket.

“I'm thinking,” I begin, choosing my words with caution, “we should play in Seattle.”

“We?”

“Yeah.” I turn my head to look at Spence, who's got one eyebrow raised up a little bit. “You, me, Barney, and Billy.”

“Why?” He's not sure where I'm going with this, but I know.

“I have an idea. It's not a plan per se, more of an excuse to get our asses back over there.”

��Where are you going with this?” Sonia asks me, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, I mean, your buddy's here in the intensive care unit and literally the most you can do is suggest a round of hockey?” Lars just sounds borderline disgusted.

“You're gonna be goalie,” I tell him, wagging a finger at him.

“Me?” He recoils at the very suggestion. “Dude, I can barely walk at a normal pace right now much less stand on skates.”

“Never said you would have to stand on skates,” I point out. “What am I suggesting is a way into the heart of Seattle. Into the heart of all the neon and all the cybernetic shit. I want us to have a closer look at it.”

“You think—” Spence cuts himself off. And Lars gasps at me.

“You don't think—” He stops himself, too. “Maxwell Industries,” he says in a hushed voice.

“Walter 'Brick' Maxwell. Tell me that's not a coincidence. Also—” I shift my weight right there as I stuff my hands into my coat pockets. “—the other night Nancy—Chris' girlfriend—swung by my place the other night. I guess she's seen Maya in the heart of town. The least I can do right now, not just for Brick but for Maya, too, is to at least have a look around while putting on a little round of hockey.”

“Joey Belladonna, you are brilliant,” Spence declares, setting a hand on my back.

“The only issue of course is—do I go by Dominique's word on this especially since—as far as I know anyways—she didn't even call Sonia after the accident.”

“Well, take this from me, Joey,” Lars tells me, “sometimes you have to listen to your own judgment instead of going by the game of telephone. That's how I got my apartment in New Orleans.”

I nibble on my bottom lip at that as I gaze on at Brick one last time. I did say I would figure this whole thing with him out even if it kills me after all.

[jul-bilant]

Prince!Seokmin/DK

oh my god g u ys  ss dhsdfz,hjv

yall have nO IDEA HOW AGGRAVATED I AM LIKE DSJSHCBHJ

i actually finished this already but tumblr kept on crashing like??? 

hhhhhhhhhh-

anywayyyy this was actually a request but when i checked my inbox,, it disappeared ;-;-;-;-;

so yh, sorry it took so long :’VV

warning! a bit of bloodshed, mentions of murder and drugs and a bit of swearing

s o 

prince seokmin amirite ladies

sosososososo adorable and cheerful like

the epitome of happiness

he has a really good singing voice too !!

so the whole kingdom just fawns over him as he sings lol

but he also really cares for his kingdom and the people he loves

so when you hurt the innocent, prepare for prince seokmin to come at u

so you’re just a norm villager 

and it’s quite late at night, but you forgot to run an errand so you’re doing it last minute

bad idea ik but thts how desperate you are jnsdkjfbskjcb--

you were rushing and took a breather when you suddenly heard rustling in the bushes behind you

you turn around, panicking

literally everything in you was telling you to run

run n   o  w

but you couldn’t move

you were paralyzed, too scared to function properly

the rustling stopped but you still couldn’t move, you were still paralyzed in fear 

and that was your downfall

a hand tugged your hands from behind and pulled you towards them, placing a hand on your mouth as well

you tried escaping from the person’s grip, but it was useless, you were too weak

“got you now, you rat.” 

you knew who that voice belonged to, 

but you just couldn’t believe it

before you could even emit another sound, you were knocked out

when you woke up, you scanned your surroundings

you were in a spacious room with golden designs embedded into the beige walls

but what you were most concerned about was that you were bound to a chair by ropes 

you tried to look behind you but there’s no use, your feet were tied to the chair’s legs

suddenly, you heard the door open from behind you

“i’m her to get answers, and you better give them to me.”

????

the hell??????

“listen, i don’t know what’s happening, but whoever it is that you’re trying to catch, it isn’t me.” you told seokmin

“shut up, i remember your face vividly. there’s no way i could forget it.”

he took your chair and spun it around for you to face him

when your eyes met, you gave him the deadliest glare you could possibly muster

he pulled out a pocket knife and held it against your neck harshly

“where did you hide them?” he asked through his gritted teeth 

“hide what?” you wince at the pain

“the drugs you used on the victims!” he pressed on your neck a little harder

you bit your lip in pain as you felt your blood trickle down a bit

“i’m telling you! i’m not the criminal!” you retorted and he scoffed

“liar! i’m not falling for whatever bullshit you’re spewing-” 

“prince seokmin!”

he was cut off by one of his guards calling his attention

“prince seokmin! we found the actual criminal! the girl is innocent!”

seokmin immediately pulled away from you and bit his lip

he growled in frustration and gripped his pocket knife tighter

you gave him a look, your eyebrow raised and you huffed

“told you. now are you going to untie me or wha- hey!” you yelled when he rushed out of the room 

you groaned in frustration and annoyance

and also in pain because your neck was still bleeding

a few minutes later, the door opened

and who walked was none other than prince seokmin

you didn’t look at him. because you knew that once you did, you’d have to restrain the strong urge to rip his face off

you thought he was going to untie you, but nope

well. he did, but before that. he got on one knee and bowed 

“i.. i’m sorry. i just couldn’t risk possibly endangering other people by setting a criminal free..” he said

“perhaps i could make it up to you?” he offered

you scoffed. “by what? paying me? shallow for a prince who almost killed me.” 

he thought for a while while untying you

“maybe you could live here for as long as you want and be treated like royalty? would that satisfy you?” he suggested

you were dumbfounded and speechless for a good minute

“you can’t be serious, what about your parents? won’t they get upset at you?” you asked him

“no, i just have to explain what happened and they’ll be alright with it.” he said

“well..” you thought about it

“what do you say, y/n?” seokmin reached out his hand 

wait he knew your name?

as if he read your mind, he answered,

“don’t ask, i have my ways.”

you shrugged, well he is the prince

“alright then.” you took and shook his hand

he helps you up and doesn’t let go of your hand just yet

“follow me,” he says and leads you to the little clinic they have in the palace

he sits you down on the bed and takes one of the first aid kits

sitting beside you, he opens it 

“again, i’m so sorry...” he says, feeling guilty about harming you

“it’s alright.. i would’ve reacted like you in that kind of situation anyway..” you assured him with a slight smile

he smiled back, feeling better that you forgave him

he lifted your chin with his finger, “stay like that for a while,” 

he starts treating your wound

as he treats you, you wonder off into your own thoughts

‘how do i explain this to mother and father?..’ 

you thought about how worried they might be at the moment

while you were zoning out, seokmin got the perfect idea of teasing you, just to have a little fun 

taking a band aid, he came closer to your neck and placed in on the wound, but instead of pulling away, he

wait for it

he fr  e a k i n 

k i    s   s  e    s    y o   u   r    n  e   c    k

and bOI

were you hella flustered

you immediately pulled away and stared at him 

“w-wha- what the hell was that for?” you almost shouted

he started to laugh quietly, “nothing, just wanted to see how you’d react.”

you were as red as a cherry (bomb) and he found it really cute

*cue his adorbs giggles jfdkjvbssejnckj*

“well, you should really get some rest..” he got up and called a maid

the maid bowed to you, “greetings, miss y/n.”

you were shocked

“oh, hello, you don’t have to bow to me..” you told her

she smiled, “we really don’t mind, miss y/n, and it;s prince seokmin’s order to treat you royally.” 

you look to seokmin who had a slight smirk playing on his lips, “i told you you’d be treated like royalty.” 

the maid led you to your room and gave you a nightgown to change into 

“thank you,” you told her as she bowed and left

quickly changing into the nightgown, you plop down onto the soft bunch of pillows

you covered yourself with the blanket and fell asleep in an instant

the following morning, you woke up to see a note left on top of the bedside table

‘did you sleep well? hopefully, you did. breakfast is ready, meet me after you eat on the 8th floor. -prince seokmin’

you placed the note back on the bedside table and stretched

you see that a casual gown was left for you to change into

you bathed and did your hair, changing into the gown afterwards

you got to the dining room pretty quickly, you had a good sense of direction and could easily navigate through places

you finish eating breakfast and head to the 8th floor as seokmin said 

and as expected, you were greeted by a beaming seokmin

“come here,” he took your hand 

“where are we going exactly?” you asked and he gave a brief reply 

“my favorite place to go to.”

you found yourself in a room filled with various instruments and a stage 

seeing the harp that was displayed, you sat down and admired it

although you didn’t know how to play other instruments, your mother’s favorite instrument was the harp, and so it was yours too

“you know how to play?” seokmin asked you

you nodded and starting strumming the strings, creating beautiful melodies 

seokmin recognized the song and started singing along to it’s lyrics

you would be lying if you said you weren’t mesmerized by his voice

you almost strum the wrong strings, being distracted by his voice

“you play really well!” seokmin complimented you

you thanked him, telling him he had a really gifted voice 

you both spent quite a while just staying in that room, but he had princely duties to do so he took his leave first

you stayed though

you spent a good portion of your day just playing the harp and making more melodies and letting nostalgia engulf you

this went on for weeks and these meet ups gradually get longer and longer

sometimes neither of you notice that it’s already 10 pm or smth lmao

yall r cute jhcflcjhc--

one night, you were awaken by a knock on your door

you slowly get up and open the door to see a butler

“miss y/n.. i apologize for interrupting your sleep, but a woman who claims to be your aunt is downstairs, she says it’s an urgent matter.”

you quickly thank him and quickly rush downstairs to find your aunt crying hysterically

in a frantic state, you rush to her and ask her what was wrong

“y-your parents... y/n i-.. i’m so s-sorry..” she sobbed weakly

“w-why? what happened to them?” you asked, scared of knowing but in dire need to

“t-they.. they were murdered..”

tears brimmed your eyes 

“wha-.. h-how?” 

“someone broke in.. they robbed the house and shot them...” she explained trying to catch her breath

you on the other hand were hysteric

it dawned upon you that you haven’t tried contacting your parents and it’s been weeks since you’ve disappeared

you felt like a good for nothing daughter

you disappear for weeks and live a royal life, leaving your parents behind

you felt awful

the cries you let out eventually were heard by seokmin so he panicked

he went downstairs and saw you and your aunt crying

he got concerned and approached the both of you and asked what happened

since you were too upset to actually form coherent words, your aunt explained everything

seokmin felt bad and enraged that someone would do such a thing 

he told your aunt to spend the night here to ensure her safety and asked a maid to assist her to her room

slowly, he takes your arms from your face

“y/n?..” he engulfs you in a hug and lets you cry out your sadness

“hey..it’ll be alright.. we’ll catch them and give them the punishment they deserve..” he comforted you

“come, you should sleep, you’ll get a headache in the morning if you don’t.” he helped you to your room and tucked you in your bed

he stood up, about to exit your room

but you stopped him from doing so

“don’t leave..” your voice came out rough and weak from sobbing

hearing your plea, he couldn’t say otherwise

“i won’t..” 

he got into the bed with you and took your face in his hands

“don’t worry, okay?.. i’m always here for you..” he told you softly

you nodded 

“i-..” you paused,

“believe you.”

in that moment, seokmin took a risk

something that would change the way you see each other

getting closer (sumi chage--), he closed the gap between the both of you

he kissed you passionately, you could feel his love radiating from the kiss

pulling away, he ran his hand through your hair

“i love you, y/n..”

“i love you, too, seokmin..”

and you both fell asleep, cuddling each other

[writersstuckinabox]

Inevitability

I woke up and got ready for the day, like any other day; except today wasn't a normal day. Of course, I didn't know this; not yet. People don't exactly know when their day will be off schedule; even just a little bit, and it makes their day completely turn around. Usually it's something bad, but sometimes it could be really good. Although, it's rarely ever good. So, I woke up like any other day: I got dressed, ate my breakfast, and walked to school.

 I saw a few friends before school and decided to talk to them before school started. We were usually the outcasts of the school. Never really fit in. It's not like we got made fun of, but we also weren't left alone. There was no specific group to fit us in, we weren't diverse either. So, as a compromise, we were just called "weird." I wouldn't say it fits, but most do. My friends and I talked about a bunch of random things. One boy joked about a school shooter today while the rest of us laughed. We went on the topic of "if there was a school shooter" and who it would be. Some of us thought it would be this popular boy with anger issues, and a couple joked it would be one of the most normal kids in the school. No one's as normal or perfect as they seem and we all knew that. I took it into perspective and thought about it seriously. Not serious to the point that I would think someone would actually shoot up the school, but serious enough to have a debate. When I was going to bring up who I thought would be the school shooter, the bell rang and my friends rushed off to their lockers and then class. The discussion was over. Although despite that, I had a strong feeling I knew who would be the school shooter. It would happen eventually. Eventually, but not today. Or so I told myself.

 I walked off to my locker and took my things out of my book bag and put them in my locker, then proceeded to put my soccer and book bags in my locker. I grabbed a binder and folder I may need for my first period and walked to that class. The class wasn't very interesting today. All we did was listen to the teacher talk before the bell rang. It was some lecture nothing to do with English; instead, it focused on how our safety is of the utmost importance. It's above anything else. It seemed many students didn't believe him, although no one noticed their obvious expressions when they see a liar, though try to hide it. The bell rang and we went to the next class.

 During lunch, I noticed everyone's confused murmurs. Most students talking about worst-case scenarios, even most teachers are on the confused side. I walked to the lunch table with my trey in hand and noticed only two of my friends are there. The rest left and I was left even more confused. When I sat down, Alexa got my attention. "People think there's a school shooting, today," she mentioned. I looked at her and shook my head, finding it unlikely. Then, the more I thought about it-- "You've been really spaced out today. What's wrong?" Bryan asked. I shook my head and replied. "Just lost in thought."  He nodded and went back to eating and talking to Alexa about the oddities of the school today. I listened in as per usual. There was nothing much to say, in my opinion. I had a bad feeling about today and wished I could just leave campus, but I couldn't. Strict school rules, and all. I'm pretty sure we're also on lock down. I had many questions, but did nothing to answer them. I just waited and listened in to conversations. Hear the latest rumors and pick apart flaws with them. I combined some and tampered a bit with words, but none sounded right as none usually do. I waited it out to see what the answer truly was, knowing I'd get it one way or another.

 Which I was too stupid to figure out I shouldn't have waited, and instead should have done something about it.

 As I was walking out, a guy in front of me was stalling a bit and waiting around, despite teachers insisting he go to class. If not, he'd be late. He didn't care and neither did I. I saw it as normal teenager behavior. He was the rebellious type, after all. Though, I never thought of him to misbehave. I've known him for years and had a crush on him for a little less than that. Which is why I should have paid more attention to warning number two.

 Warning number three came and went too fast. All I heard was a scream. My eyes widened and I turned around to find a safe place. With all the suspicion, I doubt that was just a normal misbehaving teenager scream. Before I could run, I felt a hard object hit the back of my head with increasing then decreasing pain as the room went black.

 When I woke up, my hands were tied behind my back and I was on a chair in a cold room. My hands felt like they were against a pole. When I opened my eyes, the place was dark. So dark that I forgot I opened my eyes and tried opening them again. I was confused for a bit until a blinding light shone in the room, forcing me to squeeze my eyes tight. "Open your eyes," I heard a familiar voice say. I attempted, not wanting to make things worse on myself. The light wasn't too bright after a while, in fact it was a dim light. I looked around and saw myself in a basement, then looked in front of myself and saw someone just as familiar as the voice.

 "Daniel?" My cracked voice asked. He stared at me in response to my curiousness. He looked just as curious, possibly because he wanted to know how I knew his name... when he had a mask on. My eyes widened and I looked down to my lap in embarrassment. "How do you know my name?" He asked. I stayed silent. He walked closer. "How," he shouted. "do you know my name?" He asked again, no longer shouting. "I recognized your voice," I said in response as I looked up at him with confidence. He furrowed his eyebrows, knowing it was a lie. After all, he only ever talked once or twice in class. No one recognized his voice, although it was familiar to all who knew him. He knew that. He made sure it was that way. Truth was, I watched him so much I had gotten used to his body type.

 I stayed in the basement a couple more days. He fed me and made sure I wasn't too skinny. He once let me pick my meal and drink. He also gives me water every few hours. I didn't know what he was doing, and I couldn't tell if his intentions were good or bad. I'm a good judge of character, but he's tough to see through. That's what made me originally interested in him and that's what's keeping me interested in him despite this. Despite all of it. I know I should keep self-control, but I can't seem to.  He came into the basement and stood in front of me. After I figured out who he was, he stopped wearing his mask. He sat down where he was standing and looked me in the eyes. I was confused for a moment, but then he spoke,

 "To keep you updated, nobody's worried about you except your friends. They're the only one's looking, but I doubt they'd ever find you." This seemed to come out of nowhere, so I was a bit confused. Then, he stood up and started to untie me. "But, they will see you. At school." "You're taking me to school?" I asked. "Hurry, or we'll be late," he said, then paused. "But pretend this never happened." I nodded in response, but it never stopped my confusion. What was he planning?

 I got to school and approached my friend group. They seemed excited and then worried. I assured them that I was fine, but they didn't believe me. I wouldn't either, if I were them. I went through my classes and no one seemed to notice or care I was back. The school was safe and fine, so it must have only been me that was attacked. On my way to lunch, I got pulled to the side by Daniel who took me to the janitor's closet. I was confused, and he seemed to notice that. "You're very observant," he stated. I nodded. "I've noticed you're intrigued in me." I nodded again in response. "I want to make this clear: despite my feelings in return, this must be done."

 I realized what was happening quickly, so I stood there. "May I ask?" "You may not," he said coldly, yet not in a harsh tone. I saw him take something shiny out of his pocket. I squeezed my eyes shut and embarrassed what was going to happen soon. After all, my death was inevitable.

[xturtletrashx]

Devil’s Dance Floor - Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don’t own Uncharted, blah blah blah, you know how it goes.  I do own my OCs though.  This fic in its entirety can be read on AO3 here or you can find the other twelve parts here.   

I really fought with Sam and Simone in this chapter.  Things weren't supposed to move this fast but no matter how much I told them to chill the fuck out, they refused.  -___-

This chapter is mildly NSFW.  Graphic and title pic was made by me, all other pics aren’t mine.  If one belongs to you, please let me know and I’ll either credit or remove.

Chapter 13: Her Breath Began to Speak

"We'll get back to work first thing in the morning," Rafe said as he pulled Sam's duffel bag from the back of the Jeep and handed it over.  

"Yeah, we'll see," was Sam's answer, tired and eager to get away from his traveling companion.  Even in small doses Rafe was hard to deal with but non-stop Rafe for two days was more than Sam could handle.  It was funny how things changed.  

He headed away from the castle and toward the water instead, where his little cottage sat at the top of the rocky bluff, one window dimly lit against the darkness.  The cottage was beginning to feel like home, he'd found, and the fact that he so often had enjoyable company while there certainly helped.  

Sam was eager to see Simone and as he walked, he glanced over his shoulder at the castle again but her window was dark.  She was probably sleeping, he assumed, and couldn't help but wonder if she'd come down to see him if he texted her . . .

He slipped the key into the lock and pushed open the door to find that he wouldn't have to text her after all, because Simone was curled up in his bed.  She was fast asleep, full lips just barely parted and her arms wrapped around his pillow - and she was wearing the red flannel she'd stolen nearly a month ago.  God, she looked beautiful and Sam's reaction to seeing her, the way his stomach flip flopped and his chest sort of felt like it was caving in, caught him completely off guard.  He'd missed her, of course, but he hadn't realized quite how much until that very moment.  

He set the bag down and closed the door softly behind him, crossing the room to poke at the hot embers in the fireplace before leaning on the arm of the couch to untie his boots.  Oddly enough, he found that he didn't want to wake her.  He just wanted to slip into bed beside her and pull her into his arms and fall asleep with his nose in those untamed curls . . .

So he stripped down to his boxers and did just that, settling in behind her and wrapping an arm around her middle to pull her close.  Her hair smelled citrusy, like lemons maybe, and when she stirred in his arms he pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder.  Simone's breathing changed minutely, catching in her nose in the softest snore that Sam could only find endearing and then she was twisting a bit in his arms to peer over her shoulder at him with sleepy brown eyes.

She'd been in a deep sleep and it took a moment for the frown to smooth from her brow, only to be replaced with a smile that made his heart skip.  "You're home," Simone sighed, and Sam found himself grinning in response.  It had been a long time since someone had been so obviously happy to see him.

"Yeah," he smiled, brushing his nose against her freckled cheekbone.  "Just got in."

"Did'ya miss me?" she asked in a whisper.

"Mhm," Sam hummed, his arm tightening around her waist.  "I did."

She reached between them, her hand gripping him gently through the thin material of his boxers, and Sam couldn't help but groan in response, hips flexing on instinct.  His mouth found the side of her neck even as his hand slid up to cup her breast, and in his ear he heard her whisper prove it.  

She wasn't wearing anything under that flannel, he quickly found out, and after just enough wiggling to get his boxers down his thighs and a condom in place, Sam was working himself inside of her.  There was no foreplay, no playful bedroom talk, just shallow thrusts until her body had made room for him and then, once he was as deep as he could get, he paused and asked on a whim, "Did you miss me?"

And he was expecting a breathy confirmation, some sort of sexy remark to keep the blood pumping, but what he got instead was a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob.  Sam froze, worry quickly pushing his arousal aside, and he brushed her hair back in an attempt to see her face.  "Simone?  Did I hurt you?"

"I'm a'right," she said quickly, fingers wiping away the shine of tears.  "Keep going."

"What?  I'm not gonna keep going," Sam insisted even as he pulled out of her. 

Simone scooted onto her back, staring up at him with accusing eyes.  "I said keep going," she snapped.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked again, voice rising a bit.  What the fuck was wrong with her?  

Simone huffed and sat up, shoulders bunched in . . . annoyance?  Sam wasn't sure but he'd obviously done something wrong.  Maybe he should have gone down on her?  "Simone?"  

She put her back to him, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and staring down at the floor and Sam wasn't sure what to do, so he stayed where he was, sitting in the middle of the bed in a tangle of sheets with his boxers around his knees and a condom on his dick.  He watched her warily, waiting for some sign that she was ready to talk or was inviting his touch but the minutes stretched in silence until, just when he was about to break, she spoke.

"I missed you."

The words were so softly spoken that Sam nearly found himself saying what? simply out of habit than any real need for her to repeat herself.  He'd heard her words but they didn't explain anything and he found himself holding very still for fear of missing whatever came out of her mouth next.

"All I've wanted was t' touch you.  For you t' touch me," she continued softly, her head still bowed as she stared at the floor.  "And then ya did and it was too much . . ."

What?  

Sam shook his head, "Simone, I don't--"

She turned to face him, her eyes hard with accusation.  "You're such a bloody idiot," she snapped, grabbing a pillow and flinging it toward him.

Sam reached up and caught the pillow before it connected with him, annoyance bubbling up in response to her aggression.  "What the hell?" he demanded, tossing the pillow aside.  

Her mouth opened, then closed as she reconsidered, and then without a word she was rising to her feet and darting to the bathroom.  The click of the lock sounded deafening in the sudden silence and Sam was left staring at the closed door and wondering what the fuck had just happened.

Minutes ticked slowly by, the faint sounds of sniffling carrying through the closed door, as Sam turned over her actions in his head.  He'd seen her get emotional - that afternoon in Edinburgh came to mind immediately - but this was different and what she'd said . . .

Sam blinked, realization dawning.  Did she mean . . .?  His heart was suddenly racing and, where he would have run for the hills in the past, right in this moment he found himself oddly okay with it.  But he needed to hear her to say it.  He needed to be sure because if this was what he thought it was, then it would completely redefine their relationship . . .

Sam climbed from the bed and threw out the condom, straightening his boxers as he went to the bathroom door and knocked softly.  "Simone?  Can we talk?"  The only answer was a soft sniffle and Sam sighed, gaze drifting around the small cabin and landing on the pad of paper beside the phone.  If she wasn't ready to talk, then maybe she'd be ready to write?  

He made a circuit around the room, collecting the paper, a pen, his cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket, and then sat down on the floor outside the bathroom door, leaning back against the wall.  On the paper, he scrawled a simple I still miss you and then tore the sheet off and slipped it under the door along with the pen.  

The only answer was silence and, finally, Sam lit a cigarette to help pass the time, mentally preparing himself for a long night of waiting her out . . .

And then the paper appeared again, fluttering across the floor next to his bare thigh, the pen pushed through only a second later.  I miss you too, it read.

Putting the cigarette between his lips, Sam took up the pen and wrote, I'm sorry I upset you and then sent it back to her.

It's not your fault was her response.  

It's not yours either, he answered.

Yes, it is.  We had a deal.

Sometimes deals need to be renegotiated.  

Are you willing to renegotiate?

The last time Sam had agreed to a renegotiation it had hardly gone in his favor, but still Sam took a moment to think about that, giving the question the attention it deserved.  He'd never been the boyfriend type, not really - in fact, he'd always been a rather shitty boyfriend - and he'd always preferred things to be string-free.  Contrary to that, the thought of labeling this, or at the very least them both allowing it to naturally progress without fighting it, didn't send him into a panic.  Did he love her?  Maybe?  Sam wasn't sure he'd ever loved anyone in his life, aside from his mother and his brother, but he was certainly fond of Simone.  She was so full of life and laughter, and the way she stuffed her hands up into his armpits when she was cold made his stomach feel a bit butterfly-ish and her smile made his heart skip a beat . . .

Yes, he answered.

Another beat of silence passed and then the lock clicked and the door opened and Sam glanced up to find Simone staring down at him.  Her eyes were red, her hair wild around her shoulders, and there was a hesitation in her step as she crossed the threshold.  "I'm sorry," she said softly.  Her hands were twisted up in the too-long sleeves of the flannel, fingers laced together in front of her as she absently massaging one thumb into the opposite palm.  

Sam reached out and wrapped a hand around her calf in a subtle invitation for her to move closer to him and she did, stepping over him to settle down onto the floor with her shoulder and arm pressed against his.  "You don't have to apologize," he said, opening the conversation.

Simone didn't answer right away, just reached out and plucked the cigarette from his hand and put it between her lips.  It reminded him of that first night they'd met and brought into stark relief just how far they'd come in such a short amount of time.  

"I've never been in love," she admitted, blowing smoke from her lungs and handing the cig back.

Sam took a long drag, tipping his head back to rest against the wall.  "Me either."

"What are we gonna do?"

Sam stared up at the ceiling, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.  "Renegotiate?" he suggested.

Simone chuckled, jostling him lightly with her shoulder.  "We can't make this official," she said.  "Like with labels an' all that junk."

"No?"  Sam shrugged.  He could live with that.  It would probably make things hell with Rafe and Nadine, anyway.  "So . . . maybe just acknowledge that it's--"

"A thing?" Simone finished.

Sam chuckled.  "Yeah, a thing."  His hand found her thigh on instinct, seeking out her skin in this moment of intimacy and she leaned closer to him, pressing her lips against his bare shoulder.  "So you've never said it?" he asked after a moment.

Simone shook her head.  "Not meaning it."  She paused and, for a moment, he thought she was gearing up to make her confession but instead she said, in a small voice, "D'ya love me?"

Sam turned his head and found her watching him closely, unsure of how he should answer.  "Maybe," he answered honestly and was relieved to see acceptance in her eyes instead of insult or anger.  "I'm not sure yet."

"I can live with that," she said, lips pursing to kiss his shoulder again.  "Maybe tell me if anythin' changes, yeah?"

Sam smiled, "You'll be the first to know."

***

That surety came slowly, or maybe it was the process of acceptance that took him a while, but as the weeks passed and barriers continued to fall between them, Sam found those feelings working themselves out.  His birthday came and to celebrate the big forty-two Simone bought him a new motorcycle.  Well, it wasn't new but the fact that she'd gotten him a fixer-upper just proved how well she was getting to know him and between chasing down dead end leads, he gave the Triumph Bonneville some much needed TLC.

Christmas saw Rafe back to New York to spend the holiday with his parents and most of the mercenaries flew home to celebrate with their families, which meant a break from research and hunting for leads.  Those who stayed in Scotland - Simone, Sam, Nadine, and a handful of Shoreline mercs - had their own version of Christmas with food, drinks, stories, and drunken shenanigans.  Sam had enjoyed himself, but the subdued festivities hadn't distracted him from the aching regret of not spending his first Christmas as a free man with his brother.  It made him wonder if he was making the wrong choice, if he should just leave and go to Nathan instead, but then what?  They had no leads and Rafe would be right on his tail, seeing red . . .

And so the idea was pushed to the back of his mind to maybe be examined again later, after the New Year, after winter passed into spring, after he'd figured out exactly what was going on between himself and Simone . . .

***

"God, that's beautiful, innit?" Simone asked, eyes on the sun as it hovered just above the horizon.  

"Yeah," Sam answered, but his own eyes weren't on the streaks of pink and purple painted across the London skyline, but rather Simone's profile and the wistful sparkle in her eyes as she watched the sun sink steadily lower.  They were going to dinner after this and she was dressed for it, in a short, clingy dress in bold African patterns and she'd claimed his denim jacket to drape over her shoulders in an attempt to ward off the late spring chill in the air.  Her hair had been semi-tamed, straightened and then curled again so they fell in loose waves instead, but that didn't stop the fine hairs at her temples from coiling in the humidity.  It was a small imperfection and he loved it.  

She must have felt him watching her, because she turned to him then and her face broke into a grin.  "What?" she laughed.  "Were you starin' at me?"

"No," Sam chuckled and now it was his turn to cast his gaze out over the city.  Simone's grin didn't fade though and he could see her - feel her - watching him, so he shrugged and laughed.  "Maybe."

"It's cause you want to kiss me in front'uv the sunset, yeah?" she teased, sidling closer until she was pressed against his side.  

Sam wrapped an arm around her hips, pulling her in so he could do just that.  It was a gentle kiss, all soft lips and teasing tongues, and Simone went up on her toes so she could wrap her arms around his neck.  It was tempting to bring it to the next level, to let that sudden passion overwhelm them, but they were hardly alone hanging off the side of the London Eye, and Sam doubted the elderly couple on the opposite side of their capsule would appreciate it.  

"I wish I wasn't leaving," Simone murmured against his lips.

"I wish you weren't either," he answered, pulling back enough to meet her gaze.  

It was why they'd taken this impromptu road trip, winding their way down from the castle in the Highlands of Scotland to downtown London, because Shoreline had a standing security contract in France and it was Simone's turn to rotate in.  

"Three months feels like a long time."

"Three months is a long time," Sam corrected, hands smoothing down her back to come to rest on the swell of her ass.  "But we'll talk every night."  And it would give him time to focus on Avery's treasure, which would make Rafe happy; it was pretty obvious that he'd been frustrated with Sam's distraction lately.  

Simone grinned up at him.  "Just don't forget me, yeah?"

"Right," Sam laughed.  "Like that'd happen."

***

With a bag slung over her shoulder, Simone made her way down the hallway, the squeaky wheels of her suitcase echoing off the castle walls.  If she hurried, she'd have just enough time to have breakfast with Sam before having to leave to catch her flight . . .

"Simone, do you have a minute?"

She paused, drawing to a stop as Rafe came up behind her.  "Sure Rafe," she answered, putting on a friendly smile as she turned to face him.  

He didn't slow his approach and Simone found herself retreating a step as he plowed into her personal space.  "We had a deal," he hissed, eyes dangerously dark and his voice low to ensure his words wouldn't be overheard.

Simone straightened her shoulders, refusing to give another step even in the face of an obviously angry Rafe Adler.  "I 'aven't gone back on our deal, Rafe," Simone answered, careful to keep her tone even and her own volume low.

"You've taken this too far," he continued.  "I told you to watch him and, fine, if sleeping with him helped with that then so be it.  But that's not what this is anymore, is it?"

No, it wasn't.  Simone was in love, head over heels, and she was pretty sure Sam was heading in that same direction even though he hadn't actually vocalized it.  "What's it matter?" she asked.  "I'm still doing what'chu asked.  He's not any closer to running off on ya than he was eight months ago."  

"I've seen the way he looks at you, Simone," Rafe growled as he glared down his nose at her.  

He was trying to intimidate her and while there was a part of her that wanted to shrink back from that spark of insanity in his eyes, Simone refused.  If she had to, she could handle herself against one spoiled prick.  "Whatsa matter Rafe?  You jealous?" she returned, one eyebrow lifting in question.

His face smoothed out suddenly, shutting down as the emotions faded and it was unnerving to watch.  "Perhaps I should tell Nadine not to bring you back after this."

Simone's heart fell into her stomach, her breath catching in her chest, but it was an empty threat.  She reached up and planted a hand in the center of Rafe's chest, forcing him back a step.  "Tha's not up t'you, Rafe," she answered.  "You may be paying for Shoreline's services, but this company still belongs to my sister."  

His face was still dangerously blank and, for a moment, Simone was sure he was going to lash out at her but before she could give him a chance, she ended the conversation: "Now back off; I've got a plane t'catch."  

Simone swore she could feel the heat of Rafe's anger beating against her back as she turned and walked away, but she'd be damned if she were going to give him the satisfaction of looking back.  

[pen-masta]

Old Habits New Sparks

Just some cute fluff. Enjoy.

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Mikey smiles over the counter at his little brother, Castel, playing with his friend of one year. They both lie on the floor, on their bellies, facing each other. Castel, the mini baby nerd he is, is reading his space book. While Joy on the other hand swings her feet back and forth in the air, humming loudly as she scribbles in her art book with her crayon—she’s actually got a lot of talent for a six-year-old.

Considering he won’t go back to school until February, Mikey has been babysitting his baby brother and Joy after they get out of school for the past few weeks. But today is Sunday and he’s not the only one watching after the two little tikes today. His mom sits on the couch watching her youngest son and his friend entertain themselves. Zack is helping their dad shovel the newly fallen snow from the driveway, while Mikey cooks up a warm lunch to have on such an icy day.

Mikey smiles and sprinkles in some more brown sugar into the bubbling creamy tomato soup, before flipping the sandwiches on his skillet. He’s glad Castel and Joy hit it off right away after they met that day in the park, Joy is the perfect counterpart for his dorky baby brother. Even at their young ages they each have shown so much personality and interests.

Joy loves art—finger painting, coloring, drawing, she even brought over a bunch of colored clay one time to model. She’s quite the quirky little tike, she’s silly and goofy, sweet and kind, a little bossy sometimes but she’s never mean. And even at her young age she seems to have a great sense of humor. She always tries to make you laugh—most of the time she’s very successful. Not only does she have a colorful personality she also has a colorful…everything else. She always wears mismatched clothes of all different kinds and colors; she looks like a little gypsy.

Even now as she draws in her art book she’s wearing a bright pink t-shirt, a lime green hoody, bright colored mismatched knee high socks, light up sneakers, beaded necklaces from their latest arts and crafts at school, a raspberry burette sits among her brown curly braid, and a big frilly rainbow tutu. Mikey chuckles a little at the splattered paint on her cheeks from their early morning finger painting project. And he smiles guessing her parents probably let her dress herself…and judging by the determination in the little sprout no one was going to get her to change.

He glances over his shoulder at his baby brother. An unruly mop of brown curls bounces ever so slightly when the boy turns his head to read the next page in his book. Dawning his favorite jean overalls with the little tiger on the front pocket, his favorite red flannel shirt, and his slightly muddy and untied red sneakers, the little boy lies on the floor next to a stack of books—each a reading level higher than the standard first grade books.

Castel wasn’t much for art on his own, although if it was something Joy wanted to do he’d join in. But he prefers reading over paint brushes. Castel also loves his Legos and his building blocks. He loves creating all kinds of things with his various blocks and connecting cubes. Even though he’s only been in school for a year now, his teacher has already seen a great deal of intelligence in him. He reads much faster than his peers, he has a great understanding and grasp on the information he reads, and he’s always the first one done his work—hardly ever having any answers incorrect.

After talking with his parents, the teacher decided to give Castel some second-grade work to see how he’d do. And to everyone’s amazement the work wasn’t hard at all for Castel, and since then she’s been giving him second grade level work and has let him borrow some second-grade level books from the school’s library. He had even asked their mom to teach him “that funny language she always talks in right before daddy’s cheeks turn red” as Castel had put it from his seven-year-old observations.

Castel is a sweet little boy and always has fun with Joy and his brothers. But when he’s alone he keeps to himself; engrossed in his book about cars, or computers, or dinosaurs. One thing that has grabbed the little boy’s attention is mysteries and monsters.

Often times when he and Joy go out in the yard to play he takes her around the yard scouring around for footprints of giants, or hairs of werewolves, or any signs of bats. But he always makes sure they go out with scarfs around their necks in case some stray vampire finds them. Joy doesn’t seem to mind the imaginary hunts; she always joins in helping him hunt around the yard following whatever trail he’s on.

Although most of their monster hunts come up empty—much to Castel’s dismay—they did however catch a creature one time. Castel has found some footprints in the dirt that lead to the garage where a greasy wrinkled monster was hunkered behind the opened door of the fridge. The two had screamed and charged the beast tackling him to the ground. Joy had thrown her sand pail over the monster’s head while Castel tied the beast’s ankles together with his jump rope. It wasn’t until everyone had run out into the garage that the two realizes the greasy wrinkled monster was Castel’s dad working on his car.

Mikey laughed at how disheveled their dad looked and how their mom teased him about how easily the big bad cop was taken down by two first graders. Mikey shakes his head at the memory as he cuts the sandwiches and puts them on their designated plates.

“Lunch is ready,” he announces as he takes the soup off of the stove.

Castel and Joy both spring up and race each other to the table while Mrs. Cubs goes outside to get Zack and Mr. Cubs. Joy kneels on the seat next to Castel and they both sit patiently waiting for the rest of the family. Once everyone is seated at the table Mikey brings over a stack of grilled cheese sandwiches and the pot of soup. He then brings over a green and orange plastic plates and bowls.

“Cheddar, Swiss, Mozzarella, ham, and tomato grilled cheese sandwiches with hot tomato soup.” He smiles and places the plates in front of Joy and Castel, “Cut into dinosaurs as requested.”

“Thanks Mikey,” Joy smiles a front-toothless grin up at him.

Joy goes to take her dinosaur shaped sandwich into her hands, but Castel grabs her tiny hand before she can. She looks at him a little surprised, but she quickly smiles watching Castel examine both of their sandwiches. Castel’s brow furrows in concentration and the little boy wiggles in his seat a moment and fidgets while he stares at their food. After a second he turns to his big brother and opens his mouth to speak, but Mikey beats him to it.

“Yes, I made them with garlic bread to keep away the vampires,” he chuckles down at his little brother.

Castel closes his mouth into a smile and nods. Mikey grins and tickles the little boy’s sides for a moment making the smaller male giggle and squirm in his seat—which in turn causes Joy to giggle as well and everyone else to smile. Mikey then places a kiss on top of the mop of curls before taking his seat next to his mom.

She puts her hand on his and smiles, “Thank you for cooking Michael.” She whispers to him, “He’s been so picky lately your sandwiches are among the few foods he’s willing to eat.”

Mikey smiles brightly, “It’s no problem Ma I love cooking. Especially for little Cassie,” he chuckles a little. “He’s very picky I know, but he’s my best customer.”

She smiles at her oldest son as everyone begins to eat. Castel picks up the warm sandwich with his chubby little hands, and bites into it. He smiles at how the cheese gushes out the sides as he does so. The table is quiet for all of ten seconds before Joy pipes up.

“Cassie and I are getting married!” She says smiling brightly.

Everyone at the table giggles and smiles at the two youngest of the group.

“Is that so?” Mrs. Cubs asks smiling brightly and folding her hands under her chin.

Joy nods, “Uh huh.” She grins and dunks her sandwich dinosaur’s head into the hot red soup. “See Mrs. Nikki gives the good kids a prize every Friday.” Joy explains and bites off the head of the now soggy dinosaur shaped sandwich. “You can either have a piece of candy from the candy bag or get a toy from the treasure chest.”

She swallows her half masticated mushed up cheesy meaty sandwich, before beaming. “Cassie always gets on the good list and he always gets a toy from the treasure chest. So when he gets a prize this week he’s gonna get one of those bubble container thingy-ma-bobs with the ring inside.”

She explains and dunks her sandwich again, “And I want to have one for him so I’m going to be extra good this week, so I can be on the good list.”

“You’re not on the good list?” Mr. Cubs smirks and raises a brow at the little girl.

Joy looks down bashfully and her cheeks turn pink, “Not always. Mrs. Nikki says I talk too much when I’m not supposed to.” Her smile brightens again, “But I’m gonna be good this whole week so I can get a prize for Cassie.”

“Another ring?” Zack asks stirring his soup.

“Nope,” Joy shakes her head popping her P. “Cassie likes ring pops so when Mrs. Nikki asks if I want candy bag or the treasure chest I’m going to say the candy bag. Then I’m gonna pick out a ring pop.”

“Sounds very thought out,” Mikey chuckles and bites into his sandwich.

“Where is the wedding happening?”

“At recess this Friday,” Joy says jubilantly. “It’s gonna be me and Cassie and my friends Jenny, and Bethany, and Holly, and Amber.” She bounces on her knees as she takes another bite of her sandwich, “We’re gonna get married under the jungle jim and Amber is gonna be the marrying person thingy.”

“Very thought out indeed,” Mr. Cubs chuckles. “So whose idea was all of this?”

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“Mine,” Joy smiles. “Well mine and Holly and Jenny and Bethany and Amber’s…I guess it was all of us.”

“I see,” Zack smiles and nudges Mikey with his elbow. The two brothers giggle for a moment before they smile at their kid brother.

“And Cassie,” Mikey grins. “How do you feel about this?”

“Ready to not be single anymore?” Zack laughs.

Castel puts down his sandwich and opts to stir his soup. The little boy doesn’t take his eyes off his dalmatian puppy spoon as it circles around in his soup. But he does acknowledge his brothers’ questions with a shrug.

“You’re all set to get hitched?” Zack teases, “Eerr married I mean.”

Castel just shrugs again, “I don’t mind really.” He looks up at his brothers and his eyes sparkle, “I’ve been searching the playground for weeks and I’m almost positive I’ve found where the abominable snowman lives.” His little face brightens, “Everyone is gonna help me look after the wedding. They all promised. We’re gonna catch him!” The little boy says happily and slurps up his soup.

Mr. and Mrs. Cubs exchange a worried glance about the same time Zack and Mikey do. But then they all smile again and go back to eating their lunch. Joy starts singing aloud and dunks her sandwich in her soup continuously; causing waves to ripple through her bowl, splashing out of the bowl. Mikey chuckles and watches the two little kids eat their lunches. Castel slurps his soup watching Joy play in her soup.

Joy stops and holds her sandwich in the bowl until the bread starts to fall apart in the red liquid. Castel watches for a moment as her sandwich descending down into the hot liquid. Just before Joy’s fingers touch the soup, Castel grabs her hand and yanks it away from the bowl. Joy makes a surprised yipping sound before looking at Castel. The two children narrow their eyes at one another, both glaring at the other with their lips in the same tight line. There is silence between them while they stare each other down—the only sound is some light snickering from the rest of the family. After a moment Castel picks up his napkin and hands it to Joy for her hand. She takes it and cleans herself up, while watching him take her splatter painted spoon into his hand. Carefully he scoops out the huge chunk out of her bowl and plops the mushy, nasty glob onto her plate.

They look at each other again and after another moment of glares their faces brighten and Castel smiles at her. Joy grins, grabs the straps of his overalls, and pulls him towards her. She plants a big sloppy, wet, cheesy, tomato soup-y kiss on his cheek with a very loud and acute ‘mwah!’ sound.

Castel whines noisily and wipes his cheek clean, “Gross!”

Joy bursts into giggles along with the rest of the family. After they finish eating Joy and Castel decide to go outside for a while. After Mrs. Cubs makes sure they are both bundled up so much they can hardly put their arms down, the two disappear into the frozen wonderland that fills the backyard. Mrs. Cubs watches them play for a few minutes before her smile falters and she looks down at the floor.

“What’s wrong, Felicity?” Mr. Cubs asks seeing the worried look in her face.

She smiles weakly, “I’m just…” she sighs and looks up at her husband. “Cassie hasn’t made any friends other than Joy. He’s been in school for a year now almost two, and he is still alone.”

“He’s not alone,” Mikey chimes in from his spot at the sink. “He has Joy.”

“I know that bébé,” Mrs. Cubs sighs. “And I’m grateful he has her it’s just…Joy has so many other friends than just Cassie.”

“He’s certainly not the social butterfly you two were,” Mr. Cubs chuckles and looks at his older sons. He smiles back at his wife, “Don’t worry sweetheart he’s only seven.”

“He’s got his entire life to make friends,” Zack nods. “And for now he’s got Joy.”

“And she seems to be enough for Cassie,” Mikey smiles.

“He looks happy yes?” Mr. Cubs asks and looks out at the two children playing in the yard. They are chasing each other with snowballs and laughing when they both fall. Mr. and Mrs. Cubs both smile warmly at the sight.

“Yes he is happy,” Mrs. Cubs nods. “As long as he at least has Joy he’ll be fine.”

“Yes,” Mr. Cubs smiles and kisses her cheek.

“Well apparently on Friday they’ll be bound together for life,” Zack snorts. And the kitchen fills with laughter.

That Friday Joy had made it to the good list as she had been determined to and picked a blue raspberry ring pop out of the candy bag. Castel got the little toy ring from the treasure chest and soon the two were standing under the jungle jim for the wedding. They exchanged their rings and Castel wiped his mouth after Joy has pecked his lips with little kiss, followed by her signature ‘mwah!’ sound—similar to the way she kissed his cheek on Sunday. Castel didn’t mind humoring the girls in their marriage game. He’s played house with Joy before and he didn’t see that much of a difference—except this time they’d follow her game up with a monster hunt.

However, all of Joy’s friends disappeared after the wedding leaving Castel on his own for the hunt; breaking their promise. They tried to get Joy to come play some silly game with them, but she insisted that she would much rather go on a monster hunt adventure with her ‘husband’ than play some silly little game. Castel smiled when she took his glove covered hand into her mitten covered one and ran off with him.

--------------

Joy smiles and chuckles a little to herself at the memory. The now twenty-five-year-old sits on the red shag carpet of the living room. It’s been about two years since Castel and Martha broke up; after Castel saw Martha’s true colors he was tore apart for several weeks. When Joy had found him he was curled up on the floor of his kitchen, his hair a disheveled mess, his clothes wrinkled, tear streaks stained his cheeks, and his eyes puffy and red. Very similar to how she’d find him after some girl rejected him in high school, or laughed in his face—except this time he had drunk himself silly. Which was a shock for Joy because Castel was no alcoholic in fact he hadn’t had more than a glass of wine since his twenty-first birthday.

Joy had stayed with him in the big empty house to make sure he could take care of himself again. After he was stable again she had planned to leave, but Castel had asked her to stay. She had her own wing of the mansion now, which was great since she had gotten thrown out of her apartment. Castel was happy to have his best friend with him again and now that it’s been two years since the horrendous break up he’s finally feeling like his old self again.

“What are you laughing at?” Castel asks and pokes her cheek.

She looks at him and it takes her a moment to focus on his face—the alcohol they’ve been drinking affecting her vision. She smiles at him loving how curly his hair has become again, his beard is nothing more than stubble lining his face, and his chocolate eyes are shinning bright again—though something tells her that sparkle is influenced by the alcohol in his system…but she likes to think it’s the happy sparkle that normally fills his eyes. She’s happy that Martha is finally gone, although she never said it so bluntly to him before she never really liked how Martha acted or treated him. She tried to change so much about him and Joy couldn’t stand it. If anything as far as Joy is concerned Castel got at least three things out of their break up. He’s learned how to say ‘no’—which is what caused most of their fights when Martha was being a diva. He’s so much more confident now, knowing he is worth more than the way Martha had treated him.

And finally he no longer has the food police in his house. Martha had always been on him about his body for the press and how he had to look like he just came out of a modeling ad. She was the definition of a health freak—no gluten, no sugar, no BPA, no MSG, no GMOs, no anything. Now free from his chains Castel was final able to go on not caring about what the press would say. He finally doesn’t look like a walking twig branch anymore, sure he always had his muscles but he was so thin. Now he’s got a fuller face and he looks like himself again physically; and Joy is so happy for that. 

“Joy,” he chuckles and pokes her nose. “You here with us?”

Joy giggles, “I’m here.”

He grins and sways a little until he leans back against the coffee table. “So why are you laughing?”

“No reason,” she smiles and looks around at the scattered empty bottles of champagne, strawberry wine, and hard cherry sodas.

It’s New Years Eve and they had planned to have a big party with their families, but Mrs. Cubs insisted they have a party at their house. So the families had gathered and played games and danced and had fun, more fun than Joy could even remember having in a long time. After the ball had dropped they had their toast and everyone headed back to their own homes. When Joy and Castel had gotten back to the house they both felt…well happy. Neither wanted the night to end so Castel offered the idea to relax by the fire and break into his cellar. Joy had agreed and now here they sit in front of the roaring fire, her favorite soundtrack playing in the background from her Iphone, and both feeling slightly tipsy and yet comfortable.

Castel smiles, “Come on sharing is caring.” He chuckles his head starting to swim from the two bottles of soda and half…ok a little more than half the bottle of strawberry wine.

Joy smiles softly at him before she pushes her heels off to side along with her sweater jacket. She slides down onto the carpet and is a little taken back by how soft the shag material feels. Castel smiles and looks at the wooden clock that sits on the mantel above the fire place. It reads two thirty in the morning. He chuckles a little and shoves his dress shoes out of the way along with his blazer. He unbuttons his vest and loosens his neck-tie before lying on the floor next to her. The sweet tasting liquor pooling in his gut, the sweet tangy taste of the nectar slowly sliding down from his throat like sap on tree bark. He smiles and hums a little feeling very content where he’s at right now—not just his life but this moment right now. He feels happy and warm and so pleased to be here with Joy. It’s just them again, him and his best friend and he’s so grateful she’s still here with him after all this time she’s still his friend. A fun night with his loved ones, a warm fire, good music, sweet drinks, this amazingly soft carpet, and Joy laying next to him. This moment of bliss feels so…perfect.

They are both silent for a while listening to the soft melody of Someone In The Crowd and the faint crackling of the fire. Joy slurs out that it sounds like that rice cereal that pops. Castel agrees and grins as she sings, “Snap, crackle, pop!” And he finishes with, “Rice Krispies!” They both laugh for a while at that—probably longer than they should have, but neither cares.

Silence falls again but it’s comfortable, it’s always comfortable. The music changes and shift into A Lovely Night the quick upbeat tune filling the air between them. Joy sighs a little and she stares up at the ceiling, still feeling the bubbly tingle of the alcohol but a kind of bittersweet feeling gnaws in her belly.

“Do you remember when we got married?” She asks not looking away from the ceiling.

He chuckles and nods, “Yes I do.” He turns on his side and smiles at her, “Is that what you’ve been thinking about?”

She smiles and looks at him now, “Yes.” She giggles a little, “It was so silly you know.”

“Not really,” he shrugs. “It was kind of sweet.” He chuckles, “I remember you were trying so hard to get onto the good list so you could get a prize.”

She giggles and nods, “Yes I wanted to get you a ring pop instead of that plastic little ring. And then we stood under the jungle jim and traded the two. The plastic one you got and the strawberry ring pop I got.”

“Blue raspberry,” he corrects. She looks at him with a quizzical expression and he smiles. “It was a blue raspberry ring pop you gave me, not strawberry.”

She blinks at him before she smiles, “Oh my gosh you’re right! How could I forget?”

He chuckles and shrugs, “I also remember everyone promising to go on some monster hunt after our little wedding.” He shakes his head.

“Not just any monster hunt Cassie,” she grins and turns on her side facing him. “A hunt for the illusive abominable snowman.” Her face falls into a crest-fallen look, “They all left afterwards.”

“Yeah they did,” he shrugs and looks down at the carpet. “But you didn’t.”

She smiles a little, “That’s cause I loved going on adventures with you.” He looks up at her and her eyes seem to twinkle, “I thought you’d always be a monster hunter.” She giggles, “Have your own paranormal hunting shows.”

He grins again, “Well it’s still a passion of mine.” He runs his hand through his hair kind of sloppily due to the alcohol messing with his sense of direction. “I got so engrossed with my projects I nearly forgot all about those creatures…but I kept it as a side hobby.” He laughs loudly, “I mean if I could leave the business to Amy I would leave right now and head out to West Virgin.”

Joy smiles at how his face brightens as he talks about his love for mysteries. His eyes seem to almost turn into a light brown; filled with excitement. She loves that look.

“The first one I’d hunt down would be Mothman,” he chuckles and lies on his back. “Then the Sheepsquatch and then the Devil Dog and then…well those are my top three.” He says feeling a bit bashful at how nerdy and crazy he must sound.

But Joy smiles, “I hope you’re not planning to run off on these adventures without me.”

He looks at her and sees the kind smile on her face, the same one she always wore when he would go on rants about monster hunts and anomalies when they were children. The look in her eyes he can only read as excitement and awe. She’s serious. She would want to run off into the woods with him hunting down monsters from old folklores. And honestly…there’s no one else he’d want by his side.

She never once thought he was crazy or weird for liking these things, or having theory upon theory about how these creatures came into existence. Or how he can prove their existence, or anything. She would always listen and give input or help him piece clues together, she didn’t care about the weird looks the other kids would give them as they hunted around the playground in search of signs of monsters. She never cared about anything other than having fun with him. Even now years later she still gets just as excited as he does.

“You are so not Martha,” he blurts out smiling. He had meant it as a positive but the slight contortion in her face proves that it didn’t come out that way. “No no I mean I’m glad you’re not.” He says trying to backtrack. He sits up and rubs the back of his neck, “Martha would always tell me to stop going on about non-sense about monsters. She made me feel like I was a freak because I found it interesting.” He sighs a little the pain stabbing his heart, “She never really wanted to share in any of my interests. She only ever wanted to do what she wanted…we could never compromise.”

“Well then I’m glad she’s gone,” Joy says bluntly and sits up. She blinks realizing what she just said and looks at him. “I mean…I’m sorry you didn’t get the happy ending you were hoping for but—”

“I was never happy with her,” he says and smiles at her. “I know what you meant. It’s ok Joy.” He chuckles, “I’m kind of glad it didn’t work out, can you imagine how controlling she’d be if we were married?” He laughs loudly, “It’d be more of a nightmare than when we were dating!

Joy giggles joining in his mirth, knowing that although the pain Martha caused him to feel is still there slightly; he is healing. He’s moving on, he is happy without her in his life. He can finally be himself and not the person she was trying to force him to be. They giggle for a moment before each taking another sip from the almost empty champagne bottle. The giggling continues and soon neither can clearly remember what it is they are laughing about.

Castel smiles and shrugs as a silly thought pops into his head, “Hey maybe it didn’t work out because I was already betrothed to someone else.” He grins at her and winks.

She giggles and shrugs, “Maybe so I mean we were bound together for life that day.”

He chuckles, “You called me your husband for several weeks after that.”

Joy giggles and nods, “I did.”

He smiles as they lay back down , and he’s starting to feel like they are lying a lot closer together than they probably should. He doesn’t say anything though; he just stares up at the ceiling one hand lying on his stomach the other on the floor. He knows her hand is somewhere near his because he can feel the faint warmth it gives off. As they lie there in silence he thinks back to when he first started dating Martha, how he struggled to really love her. How he could never shake the other feelings he had for Joy, feelings that are still very much alive. He rolls through his memories from the time he met her until now, he’s always loved her more than just friends. But he never thought she would ever feel the same and he didn’t want to risk ruining their friendship. But now Martha is gone, she’s been gone for almost two years now and he’s the happiest he’s been in a long time.

“Did it bother you?” Joy asks not looking at him.

“Did what bother me?” He asks still looking at the ceiling.

Joy fidgets on the floor for a moment, “That I called you my husband.”

They both look at each other. The look in her face is cross between love and fear, her cheeks are pink and her eyes are wide. Although he doesn’t understand the fear he smiles a tiny little grin and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

The fear is gone in an instant and her face brightens as she smiles, “I always wanted to ask you if it did, but it just seemed so long ago it was pointless to ask.

He smiles softly and shakes his head, “It never bothered me. I really kind of liked it.” He says before he can stop himself.

Her eyes sparkle a little and her cheeks flush a little more, “So you liked the idea of…us?” She asks in a hushed tone, just above a whisper. And now it’s his turn to blush.

The look in her eyes is so full of love and the fire’s glow highlights her face, making her hair glimmer. She looks beautiful lying next to him and her voice is so soft. It’s so gentle and sweet it’s like a feather trailing down his spine. An electric tingle fills his body, goose bumps to spread over his skin, and his hand twitches involuntarily on the floor. In that one little move he’s managed to find her hand, his pinkie finger now colliding with hers.

His stomach is swirling like mad and his heart is pounding so hard in his chest he’s certain it’s going to burst. He loves the idea of them, he loved that game they played—even if it seemed a little silly to him at the time. He loved being close to her, he’s always loved being with her, he loves her. Could she love him? More than just friends? Could he tell her how much he loves her? He could do it…if he had enough courage to do so; putting their friendship on the line. He doesn’t have that much courage, even with the fair amount of liquor in his system wouldn’t help him out at all. He’s never had liquid courage, he’s only ever gotta the buzz no courage. He swallows a little, wanting to take her hand in his but he can’t seem to get his fingers to work. So their hands remain on the floor just barley touching. Just one step at a time Cubs, he thinks to himself.

He gives her a tiny smile as he manages to finally get his lips moving. “Yes I did.” He says.

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Her eyes light up again and she giggles a little, “I did too.” She smiles, “I always wanted to ask you if you did but...”

“It was so far in the past?” He asks and she shakes her head.

“No I was scared.” She says through an airy giggle.

She was scared! She was afraid his answer would be that he didn’t like it! Why else would she be scared? Could she really love him back? He could ask. He wants to ask. But he can’t seem to form any words. Time feels like it has stopped as they lie there smiling at each other, the only thing letting them know that time wasn’t frozen was the soft melody of Here’s To The Hearts mixed with little crackles from the fire playing in the background. His heart hammers in his chest as he smiles feeling her fingers slide under his hand until he clasps her hand; their fingers intertwining.

He could do it! He could jump, he could risk it. He could do it! He can! He opens his mouth just ever so slightly to spew out the words that have been boiling in him since he was a teenager. How much he loves her, how he’s always loved her, even when he was with Martha he loved her. How she’s all he thinks about, how she’s the only one he wants, how if it was just them, just the two of them, the rest of his life and no one else at all he’d be the happiest man on earth. He could do it; he could say it all. But he doesn’t get the chance to because her lips cut him off. His eyes flutter closed as her soft warm lips press against his briefly. She hadn’t meant to kiss him first, but fueled by the alcohol in her tipsy giggly state she couldn’t stop herself. She realizes what she’s doing and her head screams that it was the wrong thing to do. She didn’t know if that’s how he felt to and jumping in like that was not the best way to go.

So she’s pulling away, preparing to see the shock in his eyes. But she doesn’t get to because she never gets away from his face. As soon as he felt her leaning and pulling away his brain went into overdrive.

Forget talking, forget confession, that can come later. Right now in this moment he can tell her how much he loves her without a single word. Before she gets too far away he captures her lips again. He moves his hand from his stomach to cup her cheek as he kisses her. Her naturally sweet taste now has a tang to it from their drinks, and he smiles at the mixed flavors of cherry, strawberry, and her own flavor.

He feels her press back against him, snaking her tongue into his mouth exploring and becoming reacquainted with the contours of his mouth. She smiles into the kiss as fireworks burst in her mind, flashes of millions of colors fill her brain as he devours her lips. Her heart is pounding so fast it feels as though it’s going to jump right out of her chest.

She loves him, she always has. When he was with Martha she forced herself to be happy for him, all she wanted was for him to be happy and if it wasn’t with her she would still be happy for him. She would always love him. And now Martha is gone, gone for good. And he’s hers.

He runs his hand through her hair until he finds her shoulder, where he rests his hand. He kisses her feverishly and deeply, holding her closer. Wow maybe he does have liquid courage. He feels her move her free hand to his shirt, gripping the material on his chest. He slides his hand down from her shoulder to her hip and pulls her close against him.

His heart pounds hard in his ears, and it’s becoming a real challenge to keep breathing steadily but he doesn’t care. His mind has gone into tunnel mode with his only focus on her. Several minutes have past before they break apart.

His cheeks are flushed just as red as hers. Her eyes almost have a dazed glaze over them as she smiles at him, her lips slightly parted as she breaths heavily. His eyes become lidded and smiles panting every so slightly, trying to catch his breath. The faint melody of City Of Stars plays in his ear as he chuckles a little, which causes her to giggle lightly.

“I love you, Joy.” He breaths out and he hears her breath hitch.

Her lips stretch into a wide smile before they are against his again. She pushes back against him kissing him again, before she lets out a breathy, “I love you too, Castel.”

He smiles and kisses her forehead, “Happy new year Joy.” He says before their lips are together again.

[trendingnewsb]

29 Trends from the Turn of the Millennium That Seem so Ridiculous Now

The early 2000s were a transformational time for fashion, hair styles, and technology. Not a lot of what we did and wore made sense, but hey, if Lizzie McGuire was wearing it, I was most likely going to wear it.

Get ready for a few ridiculous and laughable trends that will remind of you some awesome and some awful memories.

Advertisement

Plastic Chokers.

These stretchy chokers could be found on the necks of every girl and could be worn with any outfit.

Sometimes, with enough tickets, you could get them at Chuck E. Cheese.

Advertisement

Tiny Sunglasses.

Every time I see a blogger wearing those tiny sunglasses I keep thinking it’s from an old Delia’s catalog pic.twitter.com/sksACaKqG6

— Samantha Raisher (@sraish) April 23, 2018

The smaller the glasses, the more stylish they were.

Tiny sunglasses were all the rage for girls. This is one of those trends that is actually coming back and I don’t know if I’m ready for yet.

Advertisement

Clear Framed Sunglasses.

A post shared by ９０’ｓ ＣＨＩＣＡＳ (@90s.chicas) on Apr 27, 2018 at 1:53pm PDT

Every fashion icon was sporting these clear framed sunglasses. Usually they were pink or blue and had little rhinestones on the corner.

Advertisement

Asymmetric Hair Cuts.

. @maryjblige can rock an asymmetric bob like no other, hunty! #kimbleized #throwbackthursday pic.twitter.com/NsdUzRhCNL

— Kim Kimble (@KimbleHairCare) August 18, 2016

Asymmetric haircuts usually were bobs and involved intense highlights or bright colors. It really made quite a statement when you walked into a room.

Advertisement

Frosted Lip Gloss.

Remember when we thought frosted lip gloss was a good look? https://t.co/c4IzgWZYlM pic.twitter.com/iKLo9pU3Xu

— Iris (@heyiris) December 13, 2016

Frosted lip gloss was in the back of every girls pocket as they strolled around the mall waiting for their mom to pick them up. You had to layer it on for at least five minutes and then reapply maybe five minutes later.

The next trend will be a serious throwback and might make you cringe a bit.

Advertisement

Pants That Unzipped Into Shorts.

@BarstoolBigCat @PFTCommenter @hen_ease Pants that can be unzipped into shorts incase it gets too hot or cold. pic.twitter.com/oH7NM6s315

— Justin Pelazza (@justin_pelazza) August 16, 2017

This might have been one of the most advanced fashion trend ever. Is it too hot? Unzip. BAM. Shorts. There’s a breeze picking up? Zip. BAM. Pants. Truly incredible.

Advertisement

Trucker Hats.

Trends we're happy haven't come back: #VonDutch trucker hats! via @nicolerichie and @ParisHilton // #TBT pic.twitter.com/czTgJoOAJh

— Kari Cruziiie Cruz (@Cruziiie) December 3, 2015

Von Dutch hats, anyone? A lot of lady celebs rocked these as they strolled downtown with smoothies in hand and maybe their pet pooch in their purse.

Advertisement

Flip Phones.

I miss flip phones. So simple, but so dramatic.

Nothing like giving that thing a good snap close and rolling your eyes to make it feel like you were in a movie.

Advertisement

Lace Up Jeans.

A post shared by YM Bombshell Boutique (@ymbombshellboutique) on Jan 18, 2018 at 1:48pm PST

These sexy jeans dressed up any outfit. Thankfully, you never actually had to untie them but they gave a really cool impression.

Advertisement

Neon Colors.

I mean, I don't think I mentioned it in my review, but if you need something on hypervisibility, I grew up in the '90s…I can handle this. Everything was neon and, like, HELLA-visible!! pic.twitter.com/sUKr7Z7e7J

— Jeremiah Graves (@jeremiahgraves) April 26, 2018

Bright colors, bright attitudes, bright future. Neon was so in. Mostly found in tee shirts and sunglasses, neon was always somewhere on your outfit.

For the next trend, you might need to put on those tiny sunglasses to shield your eyes.

Advertisement

Metallic Silver.

Shiny dresses and shoes was quite a ridiculous trend. Silver clothes felt like a futuristic trend, kind of like a fashionable robot.

Advertisement

Bedazzled Anything.

Hats. Jeans pockets. Jackets. Shoes.

If you didn’t have rhinestones, your outfits were seriously slacking.

Advertisement

Tanning Beds.

Glad we finally got this trend over with. This is just a dark part of our past that made you look ridiculous, no matter how natural you thought it looked.

Advertisement

Popcorn Shirts.

A post shared by Saturn Collection Vintage (@saturncollection) on Dec 19, 2017 at 6:30pm PST

These things were way too cool. It was the definition of one size fits all because this tiny tee could stretch to fit four people if you tried it. They always come in weird patterns and colors, almost too irresistible to pass up.

Advertisement

The Internet.

Yeah. That was pretty freaking groundbreaking and kind of life changing. The next trend goes hand in hand with the internet, ridiculousness and all.

Advertisement

Colorful Technology.

20 years of iMac (who knew early models were fanless?) https://t.co/005mcTbdt6 pic.twitter.com/T5B5tIuSw2

— FanlessTech (@FanlessTech) May 2, 2018

You better believe I ran straight to that purple iMac in the computer lab when I got to school.

Nothing more exciting for kids than seeing blue and orange computers.

Advertisement

Halter Tops.

via: Twitter

If Baby Spice wore halter tops, I was going to wear a halter top.

Advertisement

Gauchos.

gaucho pants are going to make a comeback I can feel it pic.twitter.com/26RghGO0Cw

— ace (@GraceDuddy) March 21, 2018

So much flow, so much stretch, so much style. You knew you were the “it” girl if you stepped out of your moms’ minivan strutting these gauchos.

Advertisement

Nike Shox.

A moment of silence for old Nike Shox please pic.twitter.com/lviMJyVnuN

— Candice (@kick_tha_CAN) December 13, 2015

These shoes were no joke. Probably the coolest shoes to be made and when you saw someone wearing them, you were always a little jealous.

Advertisement

Lava Lamps.

I used this as a nightlight but it wasn’t lame because it was a lava lamp so it was cool to be afraid of the dark. So many colors and lights. Some lava lamps had glitter which was just incredible. Does anyone else remember how hot they used to get though? It felt like it could burn down your house.

The next trend was as risky as it was ridiculous.

Advertisement

Belly Button Piercings.

Remember when camila performed with Britney during the iconic performance of slave for you at the 2001 VMAs pic.twitter.com/XLeTqjtciN

— Julia 💧 (@trumanregui) April 21, 2016

This went great with your halter tops and any crop top really. These weren’t just the regular button piercings, it was the ones with charms on them and dreamcatchers. Parents hated them but all Britney Spears fans loved them.

Advertisement

Air-Brushed Tee-Shirts.

A post shared by Southcoast Airbrush (Frank) (@southcoastairbrush) on Jan 15, 2018 at 5:43am PST

Every mall had a kiosk where they sold these extravagant air-brushed tee-shirts. Amusement parks also had a great selection.

Advertisement

Inflatable Backpacks.

A post shared by Strictly Hot Deals (@strictlyhotdeals) on Apr 18, 2018 at 10:59pm PDT

I can’t believe these ever went out of style. These were so cool and came in a bunch of different colors. They also doubled as a floatation device if you were ever in an emergency situation.

Advertisement

Studded Belts.

A post shared by Christina Cox (@xtinaecox) on Apr 22, 2018 at 6:19pm PDT

The biggest punk rock accessory of them all. Studded belts were bulky but versatile and sometimes even the preppy kids would try to wear them with their Abercrombie & Fitch tops.

Advertisement

Dresses Over Jeans.

okay but who the hell thought that wearing dresses over jeans would be a good idea pic.twitter.com/glXeghMuFn

— deenerys (@cdaenerys) November 13, 2017

This was my biggest fashion faux pas. You can look back on many of my childhood pictures and find a bright dress on top of some of my dirty old jeans. I don’t really know why this ever caught on.

The next trend is an accessory that every girl owned and revolutionized our hair styles.

Advertisement

Butterfly Clips

A post shared by ContraLuz (@contraluzshop) on Apr 6, 2018 at 4:02pm PDT

These were my life. Butterfly clips were found in every girls hair, no matter the age. It was the perfect way to pin back your baby hairs or make a super twisty up-do. Even celebrities found them stylish and trendy.

Advertisement

Colorful Sweat Suits.

#americanproblemsnight back when everyone wore juicy couture sweat suits pic.twitter.com/dWBYZZBBti

— ˗ˏˋmariaˎˊ˗ (@dragmexniall) December 28, 2013

You better believe every girl owned a brightly colored sweatsuit. If it had rhinestones on the back it was even better. I would like to thank The Cheetah Girls for making this a thing. Oh, and Paris Hilton. Such fashion icons.

Advertisement

Denim Everything.

Iconic … if my man not trying to create looks with me like Britney and JT did in '01 that's not my man 😂 pic.twitter.com/aKSkLStOJH

— Youtube: BabsKinks💕 (@babskinks) January 8, 2017

This is one of the most iconic fashion pictures of all time.

The denim on denim choice could only be pulled off if you had total confidence and some chunky highlights really helped tie it all together.

Advertisement

Low-Rise Jeans.

I'm not emotionally prepared for low rise jeans to come back around https://t.co/Q97x9qrG23 pic.twitter.com/kjgvdmfwtZ

— Man Repeller (@ManRepeller) September 9, 2017

These jeans rested just below your hip bones and could almost guarantee a wedgie. Low-rise jeans were seemingly the only option and some girls chose to wear them with crop tops, making their torsos seem extra long.

Advertisement

Let’s Leave It In The Past.

Okay these trends were so fun, right? But let’s leave them where we found them…in the past. Except for the internet. We love that. And the inflatable backpacks. I’m okay with those coming back.

Share this article with your friends who rocked some of these trends back in the day and can have a good laugh at the ridiculousness of them.

Advertisement

Read more: http://twentytwowords.com/trends-from-the-turn-of-the-millennium-that-seem-so-ridiculous-now/

from Viral News HQ https://ift.tt/2kyyWbN via Viral News HQ

[trendingnewsb]

29 Trends from the Turn of the Millennium That Seem so Ridiculous Now

The early 2000s were a transformational time for fashion, hair styles, and technology. Not a lot of what we did and wore made sense, but hey, if Lizzie McGuire was wearing it, I was most likely going to wear it.

Get ready for a few ridiculous and laughable trends that will remind of you some awesome and some awful memories.

Advertisement

Plastic Chokers.

These stretchy chokers could be found on the necks of every girl and could be worn with any outfit.

Sometimes, with enough tickets, you could get them at Chuck E. Cheese.

Advertisement

Tiny Sunglasses.

Every time I see a blogger wearing those tiny sunglasses I keep thinking it’s from an old Delia’s catalog pic.twitter.com/sksACaKqG6

— Samantha Raisher (@sraish) April 23, 2018

The smaller the glasses, the more stylish they were.

Tiny sunglasses were all the rage for girls. This is one of those trends that is actually coming back and I don’t know if I’m ready for yet.

Advertisement

Clear Framed Sunglasses.

A post shared by ９０’ｓ ＣＨＩＣＡＳ (@90s.chicas) on Apr 27, 2018 at 1:53pm PDT

Every fashion icon was sporting these clear framed sunglasses. Usually they were pink or blue and had little rhinestones on the corner.

Advertisement

Asymmetric Hair Cuts.

. @maryjblige can rock an asymmetric bob like no other, hunty! #kimbleized #throwbackthursday pic.twitter.com/NsdUzRhCNL

— Kim Kimble (@KimbleHairCare) August 18, 2016

Asymmetric haircuts usually were bobs and involved intense highlights or bright colors. It really made quite a statement when you walked into a room.

Advertisement

Frosted Lip Gloss.

Remember when we thought frosted lip gloss was a good look? https://t.co/c4IzgWZYlM pic.twitter.com/iKLo9pU3Xu

— Iris (@heyiris) December 13, 2016

Frosted lip gloss was in the back of every girls pocket as they strolled around the mall waiting for their mom to pick them up. You had to layer it on for at least five minutes and then reapply maybe five minutes later.

The next trend will be a serious throwback and might make you cringe a bit.

Advertisement

Pants That Unzipped Into Shorts.

@BarstoolBigCat @PFTCommenter @hen_ease Pants that can be unzipped into shorts incase it gets too hot or cold. pic.twitter.com/oH7NM6s315

— Justin Pelazza (@justin_pelazza) August 16, 2017

This might have been one of the most advanced fashion trend ever. Is it too hot? Unzip. BAM. Shorts. There’s a breeze picking up? Zip. BAM. Pants. Truly incredible.

Advertisement

Trucker Hats.

Trends we're happy haven't come back: #VonDutch trucker hats! via @nicolerichie and @ParisHilton // #TBT pic.twitter.com/czTgJoOAJh

— Kari Cruziiie Cruz (@Cruziiie) December 3, 2015

Von Dutch hats, anyone? A lot of lady celebs rocked these as they strolled downtown with smoothies in hand and maybe their pet pooch in their purse.

Advertisement

Flip Phones.

I miss flip phones. So simple, but so dramatic.

Nothing like giving that thing a good snap close and rolling your eyes to make it feel like you were in a movie.

Advertisement

Lace Up Jeans.

A post shared by YM Bombshell Boutique (@ymbombshellboutique) on Jan 18, 2018 at 1:48pm PST

These sexy jeans dressed up any outfit. Thankfully, you never actually had to untie them but they gave a really cool impression.

Advertisement

Neon Colors.

I mean, I don't think I mentioned it in my review, but if you need something on hypervisibility, I grew up in the '90s…I can handle this. Everything was neon and, like, HELLA-visible!! pic.twitter.com/sUKr7Z7e7J

— Jeremiah Graves (@jeremiahgraves) April 26, 2018

Bright colors, bright attitudes, bright future. Neon was so in. Mostly found in tee shirts and sunglasses, neon was always somewhere on your outfit.

For the next trend, you might need to put on those tiny sunglasses to shield your eyes.

Advertisement

Metallic Silver.

Shiny dresses and shoes was quite a ridiculous trend. Silver clothes felt like a futuristic trend, kind of like a fashionable robot.

Advertisement

Bedazzled Anything.

Hats. Jeans pockets. Jackets. Shoes.

If you didn’t have rhinestones, your outfits were seriously slacking.

Advertisement

Tanning Beds.

Glad we finally got this trend over with. This is just a dark part of our past that made you look ridiculous, no matter how natural you thought it looked.

Advertisement

Popcorn Shirts.

A post shared by Saturn Collection Vintage (@saturncollection) on Dec 19, 2017 at 6:30pm PST

These things were way too cool. It was the definition of one size fits all because this tiny tee could stretch to fit four people if you tried it. They always come in weird patterns and colors, almost too irresistible to pass up.

Advertisement

The Internet.

Yeah. That was pretty freaking groundbreaking and kind of life changing. The next trend goes hand in hand with the internet, ridiculousness and all.

Advertisement

Colorful Technology.

20 years of iMac (who knew early models were fanless?) https://t.co/005mcTbdt6 pic.twitter.com/T5B5tIuSw2

— FanlessTech (@FanlessTech) May 2, 2018

You better believe I ran straight to that purple iMac in the computer lab when I got to school.

Nothing more exciting for kids than seeing blue and orange computers.

Advertisement

Halter Tops.

via: Twitter

If Baby Spice wore halter tops, I was going to wear a halter top.

Advertisement

Gauchos.

gaucho pants are going to make a comeback I can feel it pic.twitter.com/26RghGO0Cw

— ace (@GraceDuddy) March 21, 2018

So much flow, so much stretch, so much style. You knew you were the “it” girl if you stepped out of your moms’ minivan strutting these gauchos.

Advertisement

Nike Shox.

A moment of silence for old Nike Shox please pic.twitter.com/lviMJyVnuN

— Candice (@kick_tha_CAN) December 13, 2015

These shoes were no joke. Probably the coolest shoes to be made and when you saw someone wearing them, you were always a little jealous.

Advertisement

Lava Lamps.

I used this as a nightlight but it wasn’t lame because it was a lava lamp so it was cool to be afraid of the dark. So many colors and lights. Some lava lamps had glitter which was just incredible. Does anyone else remember how hot they used to get though? It felt like it could burn down your house.

The next trend was as risky as it was ridiculous.

Advertisement

Belly Button Piercings.

Remember when camila performed with Britney during the iconic performance of slave for you at the 2001 VMAs pic.twitter.com/XLeTqjtciN

— Julia 💧 (@trumanregui) April 21, 2016

This went great with your halter tops and any crop top really. These weren’t just the regular button piercings, it was the ones with charms on them and dreamcatchers. Parents hated them but all Britney Spears fans loved them.

Advertisement

Air-Brushed Tee-Shirts.

A post shared by Southcoast Airbrush (Frank) (@southcoastairbrush) on Jan 15, 2018 at 5:43am PST

Every mall had a kiosk where they sold these extravagant air-brushed tee-shirts. Amusement parks also had a great selection.

Advertisement

Inflatable Backpacks.

A post shared by Strictly Hot Deals (@strictlyhotdeals) on Apr 18, 2018 at 10:59pm PDT

I can’t believe these ever went out of style. These were so cool and came in a bunch of different colors. They also doubled as a floatation device if you were ever in an emergency situation.

Advertisement

Studded Belts.

A post shared by Christina Cox (@xtinaecox) on Apr 22, 2018 at 6:19pm PDT

The biggest punk rock accessory of them all. Studded belts were bulky but versatile and sometimes even the preppy kids would try to wear them with their Abercrombie & Fitch tops.

Advertisement

Dresses Over Jeans.

okay but who the hell thought that wearing dresses over jeans would be a good idea pic.twitter.com/glXeghMuFn

— deenerys (@cdaenerys) November 13, 2017

This was my biggest fashion faux pas. You can look back on many of my childhood pictures and find a bright dress on top of some of my dirty old jeans. I don’t really know why this ever caught on.

The next trend is an accessory that every girl owned and revolutionized our hair styles.

Advertisement

Butterfly Clips

A post shared by ContraLuz (@contraluzshop) on Apr 6, 2018 at 4:02pm PDT

These were my life. Butterfly clips were found in every girls hair, no matter the age. It was the perfect way to pin back your baby hairs or make a super twisty up-do. Even celebrities found them stylish and trendy.

Advertisement

Colorful Sweat Suits.

#americanproblemsnight back when everyone wore juicy couture sweat suits pic.twitter.com/dWBYZZBBti

— ˗ˏˋmariaˎˊ˗ (@dragmexniall) December 28, 2013

You better believe every girl owned a brightly colored sweatsuit. If it had rhinestones on the back it was even better. I would like to thank The Cheetah Girls for making this a thing. Oh, and Paris Hilton. Such fashion icons.

Advertisement

Denim Everything.

Iconic … if my man not trying to create looks with me like Britney and JT did in '01 that's not my man 😂 pic.twitter.com/aKSkLStOJH

— Youtube: BabsKinks💕 (@babskinks) January 8, 2017

This is one of the most iconic fashion pictures of all time.

The denim on denim choice could only be pulled off if you had total confidence and some chunky highlights really helped tie it all together.

Advertisement

Low-Rise Jeans.

I'm not emotionally prepared for low rise jeans to come back around https://t.co/Q97x9qrG23 pic.twitter.com/kjgvdmfwtZ

— Man Repeller (@ManRepeller) September 9, 2017

These jeans rested just below your hip bones and could almost guarantee a wedgie. Low-rise jeans were seemingly the only option and some girls chose to wear them with crop tops, making their torsos seem extra long.

Advertisement

Let’s Leave It In The Past.

Okay these trends were so fun, right? But let’s leave them where we found them…in the past. Except for the internet. We love that. And the inflatable backpacks. I’m okay with those coming back.

Share this article with your friends who rocked some of these trends back in the day and can have a good laugh at the ridiculousness of them.

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Read more: http://twentytwowords.com/trends-from-the-turn-of-the-millennium-that-seem-so-ridiculous-now/

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