#they spent most of their spring off time together in LA while he got his tv deal and probably for some ads and tried to get a movie deal

[taylorrepdetective]

You’ve been spot on with everything so far, including her jet being tracked like the NORAD Santa tracker, so any guesses for what transpires post Super Bowl?

I said it was pretty obvious, and it was.

Well, we’re entering a transition phase, so I would never say I can guess anything very far in advance. But similarly to how it all became really clear in November where things were going, I feel like I can make a pretty good guess at what I think we’ll see next. The main caveat being that she is unpredictable and there are a million things I can’t know. But I think we have seen that her and his schedules are easy to see and are set in stone, so it makes predicting things easier that it was from say 2019-early 2023. And none of the below is mind blowingly novel. This is exactly what everyone expects to happen:

I think most likely after he takes a week or so✅, he’ll head to her shows in Australia✅. Probably Sydney✅ for a couple of shows. Then he’ll head home to his offseason routine✅, whatever that looks like. He’s gotta go find those abs with his trainer and shoot some commercials etc. Then she’ll be back and I think she’ll join him wherever that is✅ (possibly Florida with his trainer, that idea was already put out into the universe.) Her next tour break will be their first opportunity to really spend a lot of time together while they’re both off✅. So her jet will park where he is and they’ll make occasional appearances there. He will also probably be seen in her spots (NYC, Nash, LA✅.) Then she’s off to Europe and his offseason/preseason work begins in full. I don’t think she has any real time off at all during the Europe leg so she probably won’t come home but I think he’ll head over there for a couple of shows, probably early on✅. If he’s allowed with camp and stuff he may try to make it to a London✅ show, an important market for him to be seen in (for his post football A-list movie star future or whatever it is he has in mind.). But I’m not sure it can be swung. Then she’s off again in time for his early games, but then she’s back on the road again and he’ll probably have a bye week where he can go to a show. And then she’s done with tour just in time for her birthday, the holidays and the road to the playoffs/playoffs and engagement season. So really great timing all around. Then it’ll be time for TS11 full of songs everyone will attribute to him, and joe and maybe a bit of Matty. I’m really looking forward to a song about how Travis is a love that is really something, not the idea of something. And maybe he’ll retire. But that is so far away. Look at what happened unexpectedly in the last year. So no bets here, just stating obvious thinking. And even if all this does happen, there will be other things I can’t predict.

Alternatively, if their goal is to end it sooner, that April to June timeframe is probably the best time. After they’ve spent quiet time together and found they have nothing to talk about and then their busy schedules make it too hard. That gives enough time to make it feel plausible that it wasn’t fake and only going to last until the SB. But I think they’ll give it another season, because it’s working so well and all the timing for her tour lines up super well. And it’s clear that for whatever reason, she’s allergic to being single.

[gayboyrocklee]

I want to elaborate because this is my blog. I do not wish in any way to slander anyone. I just want to talk.

I cut ties with King, for the time-being at least. I know some of you are friends with King before you are friends with me, so for that reason I apologize to you. I do not mean to get you in the middle of this, I just want to talk because this is something that I’ve been dealing with lately. I’ll try to be as objective as I can.

I don’t wish to call King a bad person because they’re not. This is just a mess created by clashing poor mental healths. I just need to vent.

Readmore bc this full story is LONG

Calvin’s Wonderful World of Fixation

Prologue: Favorites

I do not have any diagnoses, I don’t really know what’s wrong with me formally but I have a few guesses. We evidently have autism, some anxiety, diagnosed FND, but y’know c’est la vie.

But there was kinda something else. I don’t wanna name it, because it very well be an overlap from the autism. But for the sake of this story I will make use terms that pertain to the disorder.

We start with a fifteen year old Calvin Orion. He is at the start of his Junior year, and he is scared because someone who hurt him very bad is still his favorite person. He’s got delusions that don’t go away. False hopes that someone who hurt him more than he could ever conceptualize could somehow be better and back.

It goes on through August. Enter someone else, a good friend in his English class. Someone he cares for, but not intently. Then comes some misunderstanding, a false fear of loss, and a dream.

He didn’t realize it when he woke up. He just felt all fuzzy and lovey. It took a month, a confession, the world’s most movie 16th birthday, for it to set in. There was a new favorite.

He wasn’t scared. Why should he be? To his knowledge, he had finally exited the most traumatic period of his life. There was nothing wrong with a little special affection. After all, this time it wasn’t centered in on a not-evil human being.

They were together by the time it set in.

Part 1: Romance

Calvin Orion spent half of his junior year in a relationship that started considerably healthier than the rest, and ended about the same. All in all, it actually wasn’t that bad. It started off real good even. And there were things from it he cherished, a bracelet, body esteem, having someone who loves you, even though you’re a mess.

It was really good for like three months.

He didn’t know what changed but by February it was clear things were falling apart, and badly. Valentine’s Day came with him giving her favorite candy (in a box he made of construction paper, littered with hearts), a card, and a bracelet that took him no less than thirteen or so hours. He got back two Hot Wheels and some track, and a message that, while correct, was phrased so poorly that it tore him into pieces.

Things just kinda. Collapsed, slowly but surely. There was the field trip where he felt like a third wheel, despite being the partner to his partner. He broke down sobbing at a friend’s birthday because they weren’t there and he was so sick of their promises to put more energy into him, to love him, to write him a song, because it had been two months, and that energy was nowhere to be seen.

March came and he thought to himself that it would be okay, they just had to make it to summer, maybe just Prom season. Then she would have actually energy for him instead of the silence and unread texts he had been met with consistently.

Spring break sucked. It wasn’t their fault, he just felt so, so alone and so goddamn stupid for waking up at three to send texts he wouldn’t read.

But they got through! It was time for the end of March. With it came an annotated copy of his favorite book, more asks and promises, a half-planned promposal, and an understanding that things were just falling apart.

I can’t blame her for the day. I can’t blame them for the day they chose because they didn’t know, they didn’t remember. It only had weight to me. I was the only one who hated March 31st. But to him it didn’t hold nearly the same weight, it was a day, one with a field trip where she wouldn’t have to see me fall apart after they did it. I’ll give them credit, if all the break-ups I’ve had, no one has ever said it to my face. They’ve hidden, like I would hide later on.

He was terrified of abandonment, he had nightmares about it a million times. One million ways it would play out. And he knew it was falling apart, he knew it was inevitable.

He never thought she’d cry.

He always thought she… wouldn’t. They wouldn’t care enough to.

He never thought he’d cry simply because he never fully realized that she cared, and that while she wasn’t happy, they didn’t want him to do anything drastic. She didn’t know about the favoritism, not explicitly, but they knew the affection and the weight it held.

Part 2: Friendship

He was not good in the following month. He messed up, he will admit it he fucked up big time. He cried and cried and professed his love and didn’t want to act like things had changed. But they had and when he had to be told that he was being an asshat and making people uncomfortable, he set out to do better.

We have to detour at April 23. It probably isn’t all too special to everyone else. But to him he had cried the night before and vented and then deleted things. He did not see the liveblog.

They probably wouldn’t like that I call it a liveblog but I don’t know what else to call it. Was I being immature, oh yeah, oh yeah definitely. Was liveblogging my venting the best course she could’ve taken? Probably not. I can’t really judge. All I have to measure it was the anxiety so bad it made me vomit, the panic attack I had the next day over all those words about me she kept up, and the song.

I hate the song.

Maybe they’ve posted it by now. I don’t know. I won’t check. But I hate the song. Down to the title! “You wanted a song” you promised! You promised me something and I’m sorry that I threw a hissy fit over wanting that promise fulfilled. I never wanted the chorus proclaiming my crazy bitchness, I wanted you to show me how you loved.Shit dude, my bad I guess. I don’t know. I still hate it.

Things continued about the same for him, Prom night stank but in the end things seemed fine enough. The school year seemed fine enough. Summer seemed fine enough, until that all went to hell.

Part 3: Split

Just as he had learned the epic powers of going nonverbal in the last year, Calvin Orion learnt the unparalleled fun of splitting that summer. And by fun, he meant emotional hell.

Most of it happened for no reason. It was the tiniest thing, and then he was inconsolably angry. He felt so horrible, like some monster masquerading as a man. Like all those awful things he thought in that moment were true.

He had split before, almost certainly. But the first time he measured it was the last day of June.

T’was the last day of June and he tried to talk to her about some things, things that had become more apparent at a friend’s birthday, and he needed to because he just… wasn’t happy as things were. He told them so.

They brushed him off. She was busy all day and then had to go to the concert, and all the boundary talk was exhausting anyway. And when he saw them and a friend having fun at the concert, there it went. Split.

I wasn’t unfamiliar with the paranoid outbursts and sheer emotion, but there was a whole week where it was constant.

I didn’t split at his birthday. But when he teased me for my efforts and singled me out as the one person in the room he would not have relations with, I broke down. I cried. And I cried like a little baby that night not over anything else, but just that I didn’t wanna go home. And they hugged me as I spewed on and wept, and kept repeating that she couldn’t help me.

I don’t think I needed his help. I just needed a friend. I needed someone to just… care about me. And they did then, and we hugged for a while.

I think it’s gonna be the last time in a while that we hug.

Part 4: August

I’m autistic, that plays a rather large part in this. While I perceive social cues, I can’t always explain them. And yesterday when she seemed withdrawn, I didn’t know what I did, or why this was happening. All I knew is that it hurt because I felt so singled out again, same as I always was.

We got in a fight this morning. Some conflict on Friday when we were supposed to see a concert as a collective unit as friends. I had asked her about it last night, but got no answer, and now they were mad “for not telling [him] sooner” if I knew. I was mad because this is what I always had to do, and I was worried about what she would do one day when I wasn’t there to have reminders and pester them to do homework and just. I coddle, that is 100% my fault. He told me she never asked me to do anything for them, but I look back at all the times I felt pressured to share answers or give reminders or tell them important dates and just feel gross.

A friend of ours said they expected it, that she had said yesterday that “he didn’t know how to feel about me” and something clicked as I broke down.

I can’t pretend I was happy. Towards the end I had to start prompting replies, and that made me feel stupid as all hell. I’d say things and she wouldn’t listen.

I said a million times over that I couldn’t take this anymore. To SpaceHey, to friends, to myself.

I can’t pretend they were happy. We were never really friends again, some weird mentally ill in-between. I think we dealt with it in different ways; she tried to withdraw while I stood there with my bloodied chalk and finally, for once, drew a line.

Part 5: kingkajou

You don’t date someone for half of your Junior year and spend much longer than that as friends without getting a feel of them as a person. I’d say King has a very good feel for me as a person, she could tear into me, maybe they have, who knows. My point here is I have a good feel of King.

I’ve got a very good feel of King as a person, I’d like to say, and I’d like to say with that that the reason it was so hard to end things was that I knew for the most part that she really cared about me. I’m sure they still do, maybe they’re just fatigued on me for some reason, but most of their fear now seems to be losing other people.

I can’t say he was happy with the outcome, which is funny, because we had the same goal. Her random withdrawals were something meant to create distance, but it didn’t work out because I’m scared, I’m terrified of rejection, and I can sense it so easily. And I could’ve sworn I said it. And you think when someone is one of your best friend’s, he’d say that he didn’t know if he could do this to your face.

I mean, I did the same for a while I guess. I just feel mad because I never withdrew. I don’t know.

King, I don’t know if you’ll somehow see this. Hopefully you won’t. I just. Final messages I guess:

I have met you three times now in my life, and so far they’ve all ended fairly badly. And I’m sorry that this had to end, but I was not happy and I can’t act like I was. And maybe I didn’t have to say anything, but you know who I am, I go out with a bang and an essay every single time.

Despite this mess, I wanna meet you a fourth time. I want to be your friend again someday, because I mean it when I say you made me happy. You do make me happy, you have a plethora of times, and there’s so much from you I’ll hold onto until the day I die. I just, I couldn’t keep waiting. And I am ill, I am so much sicker than even my worst breakdowns let on, and I can’t be around you until my brain has cooled down severely.

I hope if, hopefully when, I meet you again, it goes better. I hope I am a better person and no longer have favorites, I hope you get better at communicating because dude you do actually need to work on it, like. A lot. I do too, I do too, but that’s not the point.

The point is I’m sorry, I love you dearly, and I hope one day we are better people and can be better friends. I do not think you are evil, I do not think I am evil. I think we are both teens, and that comes with some drama, and we are both sick, which comes with some chaos. I do not and have never looked at you and seen a monster, just a kid, who is trying their best but still has to be willing to take accountability and be open and be willing to grow. I hope when you look at me, you see the same.

It’s funny, most of these walls that I got euphoria from destroying were built by myself. But I felt like for the first time in ever, I was Calvin Orion again, and I was loved and hugged and people cared and I was a real human person.

I hope next time we meet, I can be a real human person more.

- Calvin Orion

[melodiiesxfmadness]

--- Greenville, SC.

Thirteen years had really flown by and Lourdes’ hadn’t expected it to come up this fast, mostly because there had been weeks or a few months where time dragged its feet. The construction of the farmhouse, barn and two corrals had taken this long - better slow and safe rather than quick and structurally unsound. A month ago, Lourdes had purchased two more dogs - Australian shepherds from a breeder that was local. In six months they’d be coming home to the ranch. Sol and Luna were older now, so they wouldn’t be running around for much longer which was fine. Her Malinois’ would sit on the porch with either Gabe or Mari, just watching the ranch hands do their thing - take care of the horses or help with lessons. Whatever tasks were needed for the day. She was loading the last box of her things into the trailer that was hitched to the back of her car, which she planned on selling in order to buy a truck once she was in Colorado. Locking up the trailer, she gave one last look at the dark brick house that had been home since she got out of the Marines. Sol and Luna were seated in the back of the car, looking at her from the open window and watching her as she went to the mailbox and put the keys inside. The real estate agent was coming by in an hour to pick up the keys for the new owner, they had bought all but anything for the dogs. It had made the move a little easier, other than all the money she’d been saving over the last few years plus her military pension. “ . . . Time to get on the road,” She whispered to the two, walking around the front of the Dodge Charger to the driver’s side.

She was nervous. It was a twenty-five hour drive from Greenville to Pasgosa Springs, which she was splitting up into a two day drive. SHE WAS NERVOUS. This future wasn’t just her own, she had managed to talk David into retiring into an easy life with her - obviously his kids were coming with him. She loved those two as much as she loved him, there was no way she would have even mentioned it at Christmas all those years ago if she had intentions of pulling them apart.

‘ La familia lo era todo y la intención de permanecer juntos. ’ ( Family was everything and meant to stay together. )

She had grown up living with her paternal grandparents, they helped raise her and her sisters’ while her parents worked their hardest to keep the roof over their heads. Family dynamics had changed quite a bit since she was younger but the world had also changed, and it was so easy sometimes to walk away instead of toughing it out and working through problems. Although, if anyone asked her why she wanted them to stay together … that was definitely the reason, because despite the hard times it was important to not give up on each other.

Her focus shifted back to the drive ahead - most of it spent listening to a podcast, the dogs slept in the back and only woke up when she stopped at a little park six hours into the journey so they could run around in the fresh air and do their business. She fed them before letting them back into the car, stopping somewhere to get food for herself before making it to where they were staying for the night. Sleep wasn’t going to come easy for her, the tv was playing softly in the background to also mute the … noisy neighbors in the room next door. Her white noise machine was all packed up, now she regretted putting it in her suitcase instead. “ … If this keeps up past one am, I’m calling the front desk.” Begrudgingly, she rolled over onto her stomach and turned off the bedside lamp so only the glow from the television illuminated the room. Somehow, despite her nervousness … she drifted off to sleep and woke up to her face being licked. Rolling over, she kicked off the covers finally and opened the room door to the balcony - thankful she had a room on the second floor and letting her dogs do their business on some newspaper before feeding them again before leaving. Picking up breakfast along the way after getting gas for her car.

— Pagosa Springs, CO.

WELCOME TO LUCKY SPRINGS RANCH.

The last two hours of the trip had really caused her nervousness to uptick in activity, she had to stop a few extra times to leave the car to take a walk up and down the side of the highway or wherever she had pulled over. Sol and Luna had joined her every time, one or the other actually sitting in the passenger’s seat to try and keep her company. She had turned off the podcast the closer they got to the ranch, rolling the windows down and letting the cool breeze fill the car with the scent of the earth - trees, the grass, the dirt underneath it and the dew as it had rained the night before. Clouds were still lingering in the sky, threatening to open up again, moving the passenger’s seat forward so the dogs could get out while she unlocked the front door. The house was fully furnished because once it had been finished? She had ordered it room by room - or had pieces delivered by local shops, coming out a day or two in advance to oversee it being put in the proper room or to build it herself. For now though, she went back to at least unloading the boxes from the trailer and got whatever else she had in the trunk.

She’d bring the trailer to the rental place to return it in the morning, clearly too tired from unloading everything and unpacking the kitchen boxes - she flopped on the couch. Grateful to finally be home … and wondering how long it would be now before David and the kids would come walking through that door. A small smile appearing on her sleepy face as she curled up into the couch, drifting to sleep.

[musingsofvenus]

Changing Tides

A part 2 to Pulled from the Edge... Jacob rescued Bella before she could jump off the cliff, but now her spring break is coming to an end in La Push.

tagging @howlonghaveyoubeenseventeen & @the-most-pathetic-edge-marquis

“I don’t wanna go back to school,” Bella complains, slouching against the garage wall. She childishly kicks out her feet from where she sits on Jacob’s makeshift workbench.

Her spring break went by in the blink of an eye. She spent almost the entirety of it in La Push. Her vacation consisted of spending time with Jacob in his garage when he wasn’t on patrol, testing new baking recipes with Emily, and having dinner at the Clearwater’s or at Billy’s house with her father. 

Bella got used to spending so much time on the rez, she couldn’t fathom going back to the humdrum of school. She especially didn’t want to go because it meant less time spent with Jacob. That time is already halved because of the pack being on high alert with the Victoria issue; the slim opportunities to hang out are too precious for her to walk away from now.

“Why can’t I just stay here all the time instead?” she continues. With you, she thinks. 

The plastic board Jacob is laying on creeks under his weight as he carefully rolls himself out from under the Rabbit. The grease stains on his face make Bella giggle.

“How about this?” Jacob pauses, wiping his face with a rag. “What if I pick you up from school tomorrow?”

Hope blossoms in Bella’s chest. “Really?”

Jacob nods. “Yeah, I’ll grace the palefaces with my presence again, and we can hang out in the garage right after school.”

“And do homework,” Bella hurries to add.

Jacob rolls his eyes and grudgingly responds, “And do stupid homework...”

Bella hops off the bench and holds out her pinkie to him. “Swear on it.”

Jacob pouts, but he hooks his finger with hers. “Sure, sure,” he sighs, like it’s a bigger deal than it is.

Bella laughs, and Jacob’s expression cracks as he joins her. It’s the perfect sound. She doesn’t know how she’s going to get through eight hours of school without it.

When she finally heads back to Forks in the evening, Bella gets to work putting together dinner with Charlie. She has no faith in her father being anywhere near the stove, but he’s perfectly fine chopping up vegetables to roast in the oven while Bella monitors the boiling pasta on the stove.

Charlie clears his throat. “Do you have enough gas in the tank, or do you need some cash?” he asks.

Bella stops stirring the pasta and peaks up at him next to her. “Actually, Dad, can you drive me to school tomorrow morning?”

He frowns. “Is the engine light on again? I thought Jake looked at that thing the other day…”

“No, he did! The truck works great. It’s just…” Bella hesitates, chewing on her cheek for a second. “Jake is gonna pick me up after school, so I don’t need the truck.”

Charlie stares at her blankly for a few seconds. A slow smile buckles his mustache. “…Yeah?”

Bella reddens and turns her eyes back to the boiling water. “Yeah,” she mumbles, suddenly worried about what that sly look on his face is supposed to mean. “We’re friends, Dad. Friends hang out with each other.”

Charlie tilts his head to the side. “Are you sure you and Jake-”

“Red sauce or white sauce?” Bella interrupts loudly. She is so not having this conversation with him. At this rate, her face will catch on fire.

Charlie blinks in surprise, obviously thrown off by her words. “Uh… r-red sauce, I guess?” 

Charlie scratches his chin with a contemplative look, and Bella hurries to the pantry. She takes her sweet time pretending to rifle through the shelves although she knows exactly where the marinara sauce is. She plucks it from the shelf and tucks it against her chest like a shield when she backs out of the pantry. 

“It’s okay if you like Jacob, Bells.”

Bella nearly drops the jar on the floor. “Dad…” she hisses in warning.

Charlie holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying,” he says quickly. “Jacob is a nice boy, and you seem… better. With him around.”

Bella bites her lip and doesn’t respond, too unnerved to say anything. Somehow he managed to say out loud all the thoughts she was trying very hard not to entertain or look too deeply into. They were friends–  the best of friends, and that was all they ever could be. Or, at least, that’s what she thought before...

When Bella still doesn’t respond, Charlie returns to chopping and mutters, “Just think about it, kiddo.”

And Bella does, later that night when she boots up her ancient laptop and types up another email to Alice:

Alice, I wish I could talk to you about Jake. He does this magic thing that keeps me together whenever I feel like I’m falling apart. Jake’s so good at what he does, it’s almost scary. He’s like the sun... I’ve never had my own sun before. And I don’t remember the last time I felt so warm. He’s my favorite person in the world.

And that’s okay now… Right? 

Bella hits send. Seconds later, an error message pops up in her inbox.

! Message not delivered. Delivery has failed to these recipients…

With a sigh, Bella shuts down her laptop. She stares at the black screen until she gets sick of her reflection and throws herself into her bed. That night, she dreams of mystical wolves running outside of her bedroom window and warm, sunny beaches.

Her first day back to school… isn’t so pleasant as her dreams. Okay, maybe it’s not the worst, but it’s not great either. There’s no Jacob in Forks High.

Bella misses him all day. She even wears his yet-to-be-returned hoodie for support, to fool her senses into thinking Jacob is there, but it can only do so much.

She tries her best to listen to Jessica gush about her spring break with her parents in Cancun and Angela’s road trip to Salt Lake City during lunch, but the most she can muster is a cued nod and occasionally interject with a ‘that sounds amazing!’ when someone pauses long enough.

In her final class of the day, Bella spends her time counting down the minutes rather than paying attention to the calculus formulas written on the board. She isn’t sure if it’s the huge cup of coffee she chugged in the morning (her body could handle caffeine about as well as a toddler could handle candy) or her eagerness for the school day to be over, but she has a jitter that makes her fingers tap an anxious rhythm against the table.

Angela grabs her hand. “Are you okay?” she whispers. “You’ve been kinda spacey all day.”

“I’m still in spring break mode,” Bella mumbles back.

Angela laughs. “Sounds like your break was fun. What’d you do?”

“I just hung out with Jake.”

“Jake…” Angela taps her chin until realization washes over her eyes. “Ah! He went to that movie with you awhile back, right? When I had the flu?”

Bella nods. “That’s him.”

Angela hums. “I was wondering where that sweater came from.”

Bella tucks her head, and Angela playfully nudges her shoulder.

The bell rings, and Bella rushes from her seat. She and Angela walk to the exit, and as they get closer Bella can hear the familiar sound of an engine revving. Her heart begins to pound and she speeds up, practically bursting through the door.

She spots Jacob sitting on his black Harley, and the other students gawk at him in the parking lot. Even Angela is stunned.

“That’s him?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Bella says to her in a hurry.

She runs up to Jacob and glances at all the other students staring at the spectacle. “I thought you were gonna pick me up in the Rabbit!” she hisses.

“What?” Jacob shouts over the rumble of the motorcycle. He cups his ear and leans over. “I can’t hear you!”

Bella knows he can hear her perfectly well. “You could’ve given me a heads up!”

Jacob blinks at her with innocent eyes. “Still can’t hear!” he yells. A grin lights up his face like sunbeams. 

Bella rolls her eyes, ignoring how her heart skitters for a moment. A face like that shouldn’t be allowed. The influence he has simply isn’t fair. She sticks out her tongue at him and climbs on the bike behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

Her face is tucked against his broad back, radiating heat like a furnace, and she breathes in his scent. He smells like home. The hoodie is a poor substitute compared to this.

Jacob revs the engine and peels out of the parking lot with a mock howl. Bella tucks closer to him, screaming with thrill as he races from down the roads of Forks to La Push.

“You’re insane!” Bella laughs when he finally skids to a stop in front of his garage.

Jacob grins at her over his shoulder. “But did you have fun?”

“Of course I did!”

“…Hey, Bells?” She hums in response. “You gonna sit there all day, or…?”

Bella’s eyes fly open. She completely forgot she was still clinging to him. “Uh…”

“I mean, I totally don’t mind, but-”

“No!” Bella yelps, untangling her limbs and hopping off the bike. She’s sure she resembles a tomato by now.

She glances down at his fingers when Jacob tugs on the hem of her (his) sweater. “Still wearing this thing?” he asks lightly. 

Bella grimaces. “Finders keepers?”

“I don’t want it back, Bells. You can keep it forever,” Jacob assures her. She sags with relief. “I have a blue one lying around somewhere if you want that one, too.”

“Careful, Jake. I’ll end up raiding your entire closet.”

Jacob shrugs. “If that’s what you want. I run a toasty one-oh-nine. I don’t need half the stuff in there anyway.” 

He releases the kickstand of the motorcycle and stands with a smile. Her smile. 

“C’mon, warm soda and homework awaits- oof.”

Bella throws her arms around him and squeezes tight. Jacob doesn’t stagger from it, but he’s still surprised. He pressed his hand to the back of her head.

“You okay?”

Bella nods, her ear firmly pressed against his heartbeat. “I missed you.” And his smile. His presence. Everything.

Jacob chuckles, bringing his other hand to her back and rubbing circles that make her want to melt. “Aw, Bells…” He pats her head. “Let me show you something.”

He walks her inside the garage and pulls her toward his workbench. He opens the third drawer, clenching something in his fist. 

“Don’t laugh, okay? It’s not the prettiest thing, but I’ve been working on it all night,” he warns.

Bella nods, confused. “Okay…”

Jacob takes her hand and drops the object into her palm. He presses his lips together and steps back.

Bella opens her hand. It’s a silver chain link bracelet, and a tiny wooden charm hangs from it. She realizes the charm is a wolf, a beautiful one at that, with tiny, intricate details in the fur. The wood is the same russet color as Jacob’s fur.

“Jake…” Bella murmurs, lifting it closer for inspection. “You made this?”

“Just the charm, not the bracelet,” Jacob says. “If you don’t-”

“I love it!”

Jacob blinks. “You do?”

“Of course! It’s perfect. The best thing I’ve ever seen,” Bella gushes. “I can’t believe you made this, Jake! I didn’t know you could do stuff like this.”

“My dad taught me.” Jacob blushes. “I don’t really talk about it much.”

“Well, you should! This is amazing, Jake. Really, thank you.” Bella pauses. “But what’s it for?”

Jacob runs a hand through his hair. It’s one of his nervous ticks Bella quickly caught on to. When he used to have a ponytail, he’d tug on that instead. 

“I figured you’d be miserable at school since I couldn’t be there so I thought…” Jacob takes a deep breath. “I thought that could be like a reminder when you look at it. Like I’m with you in spirit, or something.”

Bella can’t ignore the way her heart skitters now. How did he know her so well? 

“Oh,” she breathes. “Well, now I really love it.” She holds her hand out, pulling back the sleeves that cover her fingers. “Help me put it on?”

“S-Sure.” Jacob gulps and steps closer. 

He grasps her wrist with a delicate touch that makes Bella’s heart do crazy things she can’t find a reason for. Surely he can feel her pulse racing through her wrist. Hell, he can probably hear it.

Jacob connects the clasp and rotates her hand. “Looks good.”

Her eyes flicker up to his. “Jake?”

“Hm?”

Bella throws caution to the wind, leaning up on the tip of her toes to press her lips against his jaw– it’s the highest she can reach. It’s a chaste kiss, barely there for more than a second, but that’s all it takes. Her heart kicks into fifth gear when she pulls back. 

“Thanks,” she whispers, buzzing inside and resisting the urge to touch her lips. She can’t believe she just did that. 

She can’t believe she wants to do it again.

Jacob stares at her with wide eyes, and his ears are darker than she’s ever seen before. His gaze pierces her eyes before they travel down to her lips and linger there for far too long. His eyes say a million things that he won’t say out loud.

Thank goodness, because Bella doesn’t think she can say anything either.

Jacob eventually steps back and clears his throat. Still, his voice comes out high-pitched when he asks, “Soda?”

Bella nervously wipes her hands on her jeans. Her face is undoubtedly as red as his ears. “Sure,” she chirps.

The air feels charged for the rest of the afternoon, and they tiptoe around each other as they do homework in the garage until Charlie swings by with a pizza for dinner and drives Bella home.

Bella lays in bed that night, holding a hand against her heart that still won’t calm down.

She can’t stop thinking about how his skin was so warm, so inviting against her lips… And she can’t help but wonder if his lips would feel just the same… or better.

Bella snatches a pillow from beneath her head and throws it over her face. First she laughs, and then it trails off into a whine as she kicks her feet against the mattress in a brief tantrum.

“Oh, crap,” she groans. What is she supposed to do now?

[a-writer]

Driver’s License - c.b.

Of course i needed to write something inspired in driver’s license cause i can’t stop thinking about it! Hope you enjoy xx

Colby Brock x reader

Warnings: angst, sad

I got my driver's license last week

Just like we always talked about

'Cause you were so excited for me

To finally drive up to your house

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

You still remember the day you met Colby. It was spring and the sun was shining bright. You were having a very nice day, until your best friend convinced you to drive her car, even though you didn’t have your driver's license yet.

“C’mon, just to practice!”

You agreed. Dumb decision. You were doing fine until, accidentally, you crashed into another car. A red, old toyota. Both you and your best friend were okay, it was a very small crash, a little bump on the side. Neither one of you knew what to do and then someone knocked on your window. You completely froze when you saw a pair of beautiful blue eyes staring at you angrily.  Long story short, you ended up crying your ass off begging him not to call the police because you were driving without a license. He seemed angry at first, but surprisingly he agreed not to call the police on you and just asked you one thing in return for your accident: your number.

One month later, Colby and you were dating and were the happiest couple. You never got your driver's license. You don’t remember when things started to go wrong, you just remember how Colby started to avoid you. He didn’t call, didn’t text. You finally confronted him, asked him if he was cheating and he completely denied it. But he said he needed some time. He promised you two would get back together, because he loved you. But he said he needed to get off his mind and put his priorities in order. It hurted like hell. But you accepted, cause you were going to be back together, right?

After nine months of love, you’re alone in your room. You finally got your driver’s license and you immediately thought about him. Colby used to tease you all the time and now he wasn’t around anymore.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

You saw all the posts and stories on instagram. You saw Colby next to that blonde girl all the time. And it hurt to know that the girl you spent all your relationship worried about was where you used to be. You feel a pain in your chest just thinking about it, how his arms are hugging her, his lips are kissing her, his mouth is saying her name, his hands are holding her hands. You know you can’t blame her, but it is so difficult.

You try not to think about it too much, but social media keeps reminding you of the adventures they are living together. Your head tells you to stop looking and overthinking, tells you to stop loving him because he lied. But your heart just wishes for one more taste of his lips. And you know that you just can’t move on, not for now, cause the love you feel for him is just too much.

And I know we weren't perfect, but I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

On your first date after the car accident, Colby took you to an amazing viewpoint where you could see all the silhouettes of the buildings in LA. It was beautiful, but you don’t remember the view that much. You just remember his blue eyes staring deeply in your soul and how much you wanted to kiss him, even though you didn’t know him that well. But you both wanted it so bad, it ended up happening. Things with Colby went so fast, it seemed unbelievable. But you felt like you had been friends for years.

It was impossible not to love him, even through your ups and downs. You fought, like all couples do. Especially because of the pressure of the fans, but you always got through it. Now you were completely broken, to the point that you even missed the fights. He seemed fine, at least that’s the image that you got from looking on his instagram.

You never told anyone, but the first day you got your driver’s license you drove up to his house at night. You cried until there were no tears left and then your heart turned black and cold, and even though you still loved him to death, you started to feel an anger towards him building inside of you.

He lied, he said he loved you, he said he would come back to you. The wind took the words away and he left you alone.

And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

And pictured I was driving home to you

You still talked to Sam sometimes, but you started to lose the relationship with him too. Katrina would still check up on you sometimes and you tried to not make it super obvious how much you wanted to know about Colby, but she knew. You could feel how sorry she felt for you and how bad she didn’t want you to ask for him, but it seemed like the only thing you could talk about was Colby. He was not your business, and both you and Kat knew that. Still, she always tried to be nice, she told you how she thought he was super sad. But deep down, you knew it was a lie to make you feel better.

And I know we weren't perfect, but I've never felt this way for no one, oh

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone

I guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

You knew too well. He was enjoying life with that blonde girl. He was happy without you and that was what hurt the most. You tried so hard to hate him, but it was impossible. Your heart belonged to him, it had his name tattooed with fire.

You wanted to reverse the situation and you went on dates with other guys. But you couldn’t stop comparing them to Colby, searching for all the flaws they had that Colby didn’t, thinking about how Colby did everything better. You felt like you were going crazy, that you would never get over him, so you unfollowed him on instagram and twitter, you removed his number from your phone and all your photos together. You threw away every little thing that reminded you of him in your house and you decided to start a new life.

Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fucking love you, babe

It had been five months since Colby asked you to give him some time. You knew he was a 100% with the blonde girl and you still had a hard time understanding how he could do it so fast. For the first time in those five months, you decided to go to this little grocery shop where they sold italian products that you always used to go to together.

You just wanted to make a good pizza, but the universe had other plans for you, because while you were looking for your favourite type of cheese, a familiar voice called your name. You froze in the spot, you recognized it immediately. The voice called your name again and you turned around. There he was, standing right in front of you with a shy smile and his damned blue eyes staring deep into your soul.

“(Y/N), hi. It’s been quite some time.” His voice sounded the same and you couldn’t avoid the butterflies you felt on your stomach.

“Hey, Colby.” Your voice sounded more high pitched than how you’d like.

“You look good”. Your cheeks turned red when the word left his mouth and he smirked.

“You too.” An awkward silence arose between the two of you. “I’ve gotta go.”

You tried to walk away but his hand grabbed your arm and you turned to look at him surprised.

“I’m sorry” He blurted out the words without thinking.

You looked down, your eyes filling with water. Taking a deep breath, you looked back at him, holding onto your strength.

“Me too, Colby.” It physically pained you to say his name again and you could see the sadness in his eyes, too.

You tried to run away, but his hand was still holding your arm. You mentally kicked yourself for coming here, you should have stayed home and ordered a pizza. It would have been way better than this. You tried to speak again, but suddenly you felt a pair of lips on yours. You were surprised at first, but the feeling was so familiar that you couldn’t help melt into the kiss.

After five months, feeling Colby’s hands on your body felt heavenly. He kissed every inch of your skin and whispered sweet nothings into your ear. The feeling of him on top of you, the feeling of him inside of you, felt so good that it was almost like a dream. You went to sleep with his arms around you, hugging you tightly, and it felt like home.

You woke up alone. At first you thought it was impossible. You could still smell his cologne, but his side of the bed was cold. You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. Of course this was going to happen, of course he saw the opportunity to fuck you and used you. You ended up spending the whole day crying in your bed, the feeling of his hands caressing you still present.

He lied to you twice. He saw that you were vulnerable and took advantage of that. He said how much he’d miss you, how much he’d wanted you and then he left without saying anything. And after all that, you still loved him.

Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic

We're laughing over all the noise

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fucking love you, babe

It had been one month since that night. You cut off everyone that had to do something with Colby from your life, even Kat. It hurt you, but you knew you needed to do it. Now you were okay. At least better. A part of you still loved him, but everyday a little less.

You were aware that Kat tried to get in contact with you, but you never responded. And you knew that eventually she would understand. She sent you direct messages in all your social media begging to answer her calls, to talk to her. One night you did.

“(Y/N)? Omg, finally!! I missed you, i’m so sorry”. Kat sounded desperate.

“Kat, it’s okay. I’m sorry I cut you off… I just needed some time.”

“I completely get that, just please don’t do it again.” You laughed at her words. “(Y/N)... I actually wanted to call you because I’m worried. Sam is too.” You did not respond, you already knew who she was talking about.

There were some seconds of silence and Kat took that as a sign to keep speaking.

“It’s Colby.” Well, duh. “We’re worried about him. You saw him, right? Like a month ago?”

“Yes” Your voice was quiet, but Kat could hear you perfectly.

“I knew it. Look, I don’t know what happened, but I can imagine. He’s been a mess ever since. Sam told me that he came home at like seven in the morning and immediately sent a text to…” Kat stopped.

“You can say it.”

“To her girlfriend at the time.” You felt your chest tighten but you ignored it. “He broke up with her. I think it was because whatever happened with you that night. The thing is that he has spent most of the last month alone in his room. When he’s out he’s always drunk and he’s not taking anything seriously. Not even his job, (Y/N). We’re worried about him.”

“Kat, I… I understand that you’re worried, but that’s not my business anymore. He lied to me, he used me and then he never talked to me again. I get it, he’s having a hard time. But I’ve been suffering because of him during all these past months. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do anything about it. I’m sorry, Kat.”

Before she could say another word, you hung up.

I know we weren't perfect, but I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone

'Cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

You couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation with Kat. It had been a month when she texted you inviting you over to a party. You declined the invitation, but she told you that Colby was much better and that he agreed on not even talking to you if you didn’t want to. You still said no. Kat begged you, she offered to be by your side during the whole night. She said she was missing you too much. Finally, you gave up.

When you arrived the party was already started, the music blasting and people dancing. Kat was waiting for you on the door, she grabbed you by the arm and she promised that she wouldn’t leave your side. You smiled politely and took the shot she offered you.

Hours passed by and you had to go to the bathroom. Sam offered you to go to the one in his room and you agreed. Going up the stairs the music turned lower and you breathed deeply, already kinda tired. You were about to go into Sam’s room when you heard the door behind you opening. You froze, what a surprise.

“(Y/N)?” That. fucking. voice.

You turned around with your best smile plastered on your face.

“Hello, Colby.”

“How are you?” You didn’t respond, the room filling with awkward silence, one more time. “I actually wanted to tell you that I’m really so-”

You cut him off.

“Save it, Colby.” He seemed surprised. “I’m done with your bullshit. In fact, I’m done with you. You hurt me and I’m just trying to heal and live my life. So please, leave me alone.” You tried to leave quickly.

“(Y/N), wait!” He grabbed your arm and you kept having flashbacks to the last time you found yourself in this position. “I’m sorry, okay. I know I fucked us up. But you can’t tell me that bullshit.” Your eyes widened.

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, (Y/N).” His face was inches away from you and you could smell the alcohol on his mouth. “You’re really going to tell me that you didn’t come to this party expecting to bump into me? You’re going to tell me that right now you’re not dying to kiss me?”

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him badly. But that was not an option, not tonight.

“Fuck you, Colby.”

You slapped his hand away from your body and ran downstairs. You went to your car directly and drove home. You couldn’t help the tears coming down your face when you arrived home. He was an asshole, a liar and an egotistical fuck.

And the saddest thing was that you were still completely in love with him.

[vinylhazza]

okay but how would gray be if ur just being a bitch to him when he’s trying to snuggle w u at night... 😳

“off.”

the third time you’ve said the damn word and his arm is still hooked around your waist securely. but you, God you just wanted to sleep on your respected side of the bed and be mad at him for the night. that’s all. you just wanted to wallow in your scorn and then maybe have a conversation with him tomorrow about your troubles. but apparently that wasn’t enough. not one moment of blissfully hot anger. 

“grayson i said get the fuck off of me.” harsher now, hoping he knows that you mean what you say this time. this isn’t pull me closer i don’t really mean it i want you to work for it this time. this is get the fuck off or i’ll punch you square in the jaw, “i’m not in the mood.”

if he wanted to cuddle so damn bad maybe he should have thought about how it would feel on your end to be ignored while some skanky waitress in a tiny black dress flaunted herself right in front of him and you. 

did he turn her down? yes. did you see his eyes flicker down her lengthy fishnet covered legs for just a second? also yes. did it piss you the fuck off that he cleared his throat the moment she walked away as if to compose himself? fuck yeah it did. did it make you feel like a potato in a sack in the dress you spent days picking out for the date? also yes. did he hear a word you said while you explained in detail that your parents would finally be moving to LA after a year of begging and convincing them to? no. he didn’t hear a damn word. which then resulted in you running over the same story that once excited you, but then felt cold and stale leaving your lips.

it was the disrespect and complete lack of regard for your feelings and trust in your relationship right in front of you that bothered you most. how could he honestly not know the issue by this point? how could he think you wanted him to tug you to his chest when he’d made eyes at another woman in front of you? made it a point to make you feel second best? for someone that had said countless times you were the prettiest girl in the room, he sure made it feel like bullshit. sure you might be being difficult and not outright telling him that him running his eyes over a waitresses long sexy legs hurt you but...common sense plays no part here?

but then, a kiss on your shoulder blade, then another just below there, then across the expanse of your upper back and to the furthest spot he could reach before he hit the pillow. he just wanted to sweeten you up so it would be easier to forgive him. that had to be it right? 

“please don’t be upset with me baby,” he’s whispering all soft. the special way he does when he knows deep down he hurt you in a horrible type of way, “just tell me what i can do.”

why do men even have ears if they don’t listen? did he even hear himself? please don’t be upset with me? after making you feel like a piece of garbage in a dress? after ignoring every single piece of exciting news you had stacked up just for date night? it felt like you’d been slapped in the face with the reality of the situation. whether it was you going into a full fledged panic attack or not, you wanted his hands off of you and to be as far away from his soft honey eyes as possible. 

“you can get off of me like i’ve said five times now. i just want you to stop and leave me alone for tonight.”

that sounded more convincing in your head. damn it. 

maybe it was the way you whispered the last part instead of spitting it out with fire on your tongue that shocked him the most, enough to lean back like you’d been asking to all along and turn you onto your back. he really thought you’d been joking, just being a brat and playing hard to get. but with the way your shoulders are curled in, your arms pressed close to you, your knees raised up...he’d finally starting to realize the joke is over. now that you’re facing him face to face, he can see the pain and agony swirling in those pretty eyes he fell for on a Wednesday afternoon in spring. 

a kiss to your cheek, then your nose, “tell me please.”

“grayson-“

“i hurt you and i want to know how,” he explains, fully aware of the hurt expression contorting your face. you wore that same expression when he forgot about the reservation for your mothers birthday dinner - she flew in all the way from West Virginia, away from her simply happy life, just to see you for a weekend in celebration of growing one year older in a city that never stops. The least he could have done is remembers to put his plans on hold for just one night for a woman that always made sure to include him in her own plans. he had apologized for days to both you and your mother, he couldn’t believe he had been so thoughtless. you’ve grown tired of making excuses for the ways that he hurts you. you let it slide for long enough. 

when his mouth opens once again to talk - you’ve beat him to the chase, pushing against his chest so you can sit up and stare at him hard and stern. he needs to hear how serious you are. if he wanted the reason, he could deal with the truth and take it for what it was. if you wanted him to hear you - really hear you, you knew the best way was to put it in the simplest way. 

“I don’t like the way you looked at the waitress tonight right in front of me. I don’t like the way it made me feel, and I don't like that you were so comfortable in disrespecting  me that you’re choosing to pull the clueless card right now. I don’t like that I'm once again making an excuse for your actions like I always seem to be doing and I don't-” you stop to raise a finger when he attempts to cut you off, probably with more excuses, “let me talk-” you snap, the fire stoking somewhere deep in your stomach. 

you swore you’d never be the girl that got walked on like a rug, and you intended to keep that promise. you owed it to yourself. 

“-I don’t like the feeling that you’re looking for a better option even if it’s a waitress in a restaurant. it doesn’t matter to me that you were just looking. it's the message you send to me and to everyone around you. it’s the way you have shown over these past couple of months that you don’t care as much as you claim you do. and I'm tired Grayson,” you stop abruptly to choke on the tears, already feeling your throat closing with the anticipation of a sob, “I'm so fucking tired.” 

his shocked face tells you everything you need to know. that he was blind to what he’d done and he truly hadn’t seen anything wrong with his eyes scaling down the length of her legs right in front of you.

“y/n...it wasn’t like tha-”

holding your hand up flat was enough to stop him.  

no, you didn't wait for some half-assed apology. no you wouldn’t lay in bed when you’re so sickeningly hurt by the innocent gleam in his eyes and the way he’s touching you lovingly when he’d done something so careless. you wouldn’t stay in this bed tonight with your heart feeling like it could break any moment. you would hold your ground and wait to fight this battle tomorrow, when you’re not so emotionally torn apart and scared to lose someone you’ve dreamt of marrying many many nights. you wanted to call your mom first, have her tell you to take some deep breaths...that he loves you...that he has some sort of reason...just help you understand how you got here and how to forward. you needed the night to yourself. 

so with your head held high, your hoodie bunched around your small frame, you push yourself out from underneath him - your feet hitting the cold wooden floor with the shudder up your spine. you made your way out of that bedroom and hadn’t looked back to see his face that always softened you right up. grabbing a blanket from the hallway closet, you made your way to the couch you’d picked out together, another memory that would surely make you cry just that much harder later when you’re over analyzing the entire relationship on a constant loop. 

you had the right to be mad, and you wouldn’t let him weasel his way out it this time. he wouldn't cuddle it away. it was time to stop making excuses and show him that you demand respect and loyalty. even if laying on that couch feels like more of a punishment than a lesson for him, and even if you appreciated him knowing not to come out and invade your space like you almost expected him to. you had to stand your ground and stick up for your heart that had been tampered with enough to last you a lifetime.

-

a/n: wtf? am I okay? this is random and I'm very sure it’s not the direction you were thinking but here we are. 

[hwrryscherry]

The one where Harry and Model Y/N miss their christmas flight and have a little fun on their detour.

blurb: It's the most wonderful time of the year so Harry & Model Y/ N rented a holiday house on the French Alps to celebrate Christmas with their families. It's finally the day to go and Harry is the one to blame when they lose their flight to meet their families in the Alps. Spoiler: Model Y/N gets furious at Harry's calm behavior.

warnings: fluff. They left Los Angeles on December 20th and arrived in the Alps on December 21st in case you guyst get confused.

word count: 7.1K

author's note: HIIIIIII guyyys! It's officially CHRISTMAS week and it's my favorite holiday ever sooo I imagined what Model Y/N and Harry would do on their holiday trip and I guess I'll post a blurb everyday with Christmas theme. AND i'll be suggesting a christmas song in every blurb. Enjoy and Merry Christmas♥️♥️♥️♥️

christmas song of the day: Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande.

December 19th, 2020 - 11PM

    It was a very cold night in Los Angeles for you to be walking around in your pajamas with no shoes on, a face mask on your face and wet hair that left small water drops through the closet floor as you continued to walk between your clothes and your suitcase that was settled in the floor. You wanted to be laid down in bed, in your cozy and warm bed because you were so tired and a good night of sleep were everything you actually desired.

    As you tried to decide on the coats that you were going to take to your Christmas holiday in the French Alps. You felt a gaze directed to you, what made you bring your head up so you could see Harry stopped at the door frame. He looked very calm. Otherwise, you looked desperate; your flight was scheduled to 6:45 AM. You had to sleep as it was already late and you haven't even packed your stuff but at least you could do it with just some minutes unlike Harry. Anyway, Harry had his grey sweatpants on with a TPKW merch hoddie, his hair, unlike yours, was already completely dry. You probably have to stop washing your hair so late at night but now wasn't the moment to think about this.

— God, why didn't I pack earlier? — You asked rhetorically as you sighed taking some of your favorite pants and folding them right before putting them in the suitcase.

— Exactly! I told ya to do it earlier today but you said you still had time. — Harry said on a convincing way as he drank a sip of his water that he held in a bottle. You just rolled your eyes at him. You hated being stressed and you hated even more when you were stressing over something and Harry says something like "I told you so." You hate conflict and specially when it's with Harry and now was definitely not the moment, so you just shrugged it off.

— By the way, which suitcase are you taking? Because I found yours up in the shelf. — You said, never taking your eyes away from the clothes you were putting on the floor as you created combinations and outfits for you to have an idea before putting it in the suitcase; you were on your knees as you decided to which clothes you'd take with you.

   Harry went completely silent at the moment he heard you. This was the time he realized that with all the things you both were setting up for the trip today, he completely forgot of packing his stuff. Harry froze, he felt it through all his body. He knew how much you were stressed over all the things you both did today to get prepared for the trip, and he'd swear to god that you'd completely lost it at the moment he'd tell you he forgot about it.

   You looked over at him because of his silence and his expression said everything his mouth didn't. You stopped moving your hands immediately and kept a straight face at him literally praying he was only joking, but he wasn't.

— Are you for real? — You'd ask resting your hands over your thighs as you only received silence as a response — Harry, I can't believe you! — You'd say sounding extremely frustrated. You'd pass your hands over your face trying to wake you up more because truly, you were so sleepy right now. You'd feel your cold hands pass through your wet strands of hair before looking at him getting more into the closet now.

— Love, I'm so sorry! — Harry'd say entering the room and bend down next to you avoiding touching your clothes on the floor — It's just... I went all the way today resolving all the other stuff for the trip and I completely forgot about it! — Harry would say with puppy eyes, he actually felt kinda ashamed for just saying to you that he told you to pack before when he didn't even remembered to do it himself.

— I know, I know — You said getting more relaxed on the floor now crossing your legs — It's just, you take so long to do it everytime and we need to grab some sleep tonight — You'd say making an emphasis on the "so long" making Harry sigh. He instantly stand up after you finished talking, walking directly towards the shelf to grab his own suitcase putting it on the floor as he opened it too.

— No, I won't take too much time! I'll just grab some stuff. I'll show you and you tell me what you think! — Harry said as he opened his part of the closet immediately looking through the pants, the many pants he had actually — It's okay! — He'd say, probably trying to convince himself more than actually you. You have no idea why but whenever Harry had to pack his suitcase he'd take hours to do it, he would just take hours to decide on each outfit and then he'd decide when to wear it and if he was actually going to wear it, so yes, it would literally take hours.

   Later, Harry'd think about it all while he contemplated you from the bed. He was lying on his side, propping his head on his hand, so he could get a more proper look at you.

   It took both of you two hours to pack Harry’s suitcase and it was around 1AM now. You don’t think he knows what ‘'It’ll be fast’’ actually means. You were now in front of the mirror. You used the comb to brush your now dry hair while looking in the mirror. You have had long nights at work before and you've been very tired several times but this time, it felt different.

   This is the first time that you and Harry have decided what to do for Christmas and thank God there would be no hosting; but even so it's difficult to organize things for so many people. Harry has been so helpful, and you can't complain. Even though he was tired of being on set, he always donated his time to talk about Christmas, but how could he avoid it? He loved it. He loved being able to get together with his family and spend a good and happy time. Harry remembers the first Christmas you spent together. It was 2018 and you guys went to Holmes Chapel to celebrate. That was also the first Christmas of your life where you wouldn't spend it with your mother because, well, you didn't want to abuse it and take her to Anne's house. Harry realized how sad it had made you and surprised you on Christmas Eve afternoon when he came home from an alleged "supermarket drive" with your mother. He remembers how happy you were, your genuine smile that you just couldn't get off your face, and he remembers how much he fell ten times more in love with you that day. There was not even a year that you were together, god, as time flies.

   You have finished brushing your hair and put the comb in the first drawer of the counter. You left the bathroom to walk to your bed feeling Harry's gaze on you making you frown and smile at him as you lay on the bed covering yourself with the covers.

— Why are you looking at me like this? — You ask taking the covers up to your neck while turning to be able to face the boy's face, who was now accompanied by a tender smile.

— Nothing much, just memories! — Harry said as he watched the yellow light from his lamp reflect in your eyes —You're so beautiful it makes me angry sometimes. — Harry said pulling a chuckle from you. God, how he loved that sound. He then extended his arm to turn off the lamp leaving the room in total darkness, then going deeper under the covers as well.

— Oh, you're just saying that! — You responded by making him chuckled now with your fake modest — You set the alarm clock, right? — You asked him softly, trying your best to keep your eyes open even though they insisted on wanting to close.

— I did! — Harry said approaching you, feeling your body heat under the covers. He brought his right hand to your waist and pulled you closer to his chest, taking the opportunity to kiss your temple. — Let's sleep now okay? I love you! — Harry said feeling you nod and whisper a soft '' I love you too ''. It was a combination of you to say you love each other every night before going to sleep; you did it even when you fought, but in these cases I love you's usually came with "but I'm really mad at you."

December 20th, 2020 — 6:00 AM.

      You were in such a deep sleep, you two were. The truth is: this instability was not your thing. At one day you were in London, the next in NYC, the next in LA, then in Palm Springs and now back in Los Angeles, the hard part would believe you wouldn't be tired of it. And it's precisely because of tiredness that neither you nor Harry heard the four times that the alarm went off, but let's agree that having gone to sleep after one in the morning packing Harry's suitcase was a big factor to consider.

   5:00 AM, 5:20 AM, 5:30 AM, 5:45 AM... Nothing, you didn't even move, well, you did move to pull the covers next to you. For some reason your eyes slowly opened. You stared at the light coming from the curtains content with yourself for waking up even before the clock woke up, little did you know.

   You stretched and took your hands to rub your sleepy eyes then using one of them to get your phone that was powering on the nightstand next to the bed. When you unlock the phone screen and face the hours, you felt your heart beat faster. You blinked briefly to see if you were seeing the right time and got out of bed in a heart beat.

— HARRY! — You said basically screaming. Harry woke up quickly, his heart racing as he sat on the bed and watched you standing, putting on your slippers quickly. He watched you take a hair tie from the drawer of your nightstand and quickly tie your long strands of hair into a ponytail.

— What...What happened? — Harry said using his hands to rub his eyes as he slowly got up from the bed.

— It's already six in the morning, the alarm didn't go off! — You said quickly what surprised Harry, since normally you spoke even slowly — Come on, get up! We have 45 minutes to get to the airport, and it's a 35 minute drive. We need to start getting ready quickly. — You walked directly to the bathroom counter, pouring liquid facial soap into your hands and washing your face. You couldn't see it, but you heard the noise of Harry changing clothes in the room. You absolutely hated leaving the house in the morning without taking a shower, but you wouldn't have any time for that.

   You chose not to wear any makeup, as always in fact. You just put sunscreen on your face and loosened your ponytail feeling your long strands of hair fall over your shoulders as you retreated from the suite bathroom and spotted Harry wearing jeans and an oversized black sweatshirt walking past you to use the bathroom himself now. You opened your part of the wardrobe by grabbing yourself a black jan bell pants, a black t-shirt too and a pink sweatshirt over it in which you dressed up fastly, and put your white sneakers as well. 

— Have you finished? — You said putting your cell phone, charger, wallet and other essentials in your handbag as you approached the bathroom door observing Harry dry his hands on the towel and then saying a brief "Yes" after putting on his rings on his fingers. He turned off the bathroom light and turned to you while the two of you started walking towards the stairs, where you went down with your suitcases in hand. The original plan was to call a car to take you to the airport but clearly, there was no time for that, so you guys would go in Harry's car, which would be picked up at the airport by Jeff who had promised Harry that he would take him back to the house.

   The sun was still cold, that cold early morning sun where the sky still has that lilac color mixed with orange. You left your suitcase in front of the trunk and walked to the passenger seat next to the driver where you sat down and installed the belt instantly while Harry just put both suitcases in the trunk, then closed it and walked to the front of the car as well, and right after sitting in the driver's seat putting on the seat belt, he started the engine and starting to drive as well.

   The drive to the airport was quiet. There was little traffic, nothing compared to LA traffic but there was still a little. Harry prayed it didn't have any fans at the airport, not because he didn't want to see them, but because you were so late and he knew that neither of you would ignore your fans and just keep walking. When Harry parked the car, you might notice some paparazzi's outside, nothing too crowded actually. In less than two minutes, you were already out of the car with your bags on a cart walking, let's say, very quickly until the airport check-in. You were a little impatient to see that there was a line of about five people before you. You looked at the time on your cell phone and sighed, turning the screen to Harry showing that it was now 6:47 AM and there were still three more people in front of you. You had a frustrated and worried look, just the thought that maybe you can't make it to your destination and Harry realized that, he always perceives the smallest things in and about you; let it be a different sigh to a different gleam in the eye. He perceives everything, even though you're wearing a mask now.

   Harry wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tight and kissing your hairline as a form of affection. Your head was between Harry’s neck where you could perfectly smell his scent, and the comforting warmth he emanated; you could have sworn that nothing and no one could get you out of that moment, but then your turn came in line and a man called you.

— Good Morning ma'am! May I help you? — The man said trying to sound sympathetic. You were hoping that Harry could resolve this but apparently, the guy asked you and not him. You put a few strands of your hair behind your ears, and you formed the phrases in your head.

— Good Morning! — You said first, feeling Harry touching the ends of your hair behing your back — So, we had two tickets for the flight of 6:45 AM for Paris but, unfortunately we couldn’t make it in time. Is there any way that you could get us new tickets? Anything would be amazing!  — You said, while mentally praying that there was at least one flight that would take you there. The plan was that you were going to make a scale in Paris and then taking the train to the French Alps which would be a 5-hour train ride, but as you were counting on a direct flight to Paris, it wouldn’t be a problem to stay on a train for five hours.

— Look, ma'am. — The guy sighed looking a little frustrated. Harry touched your shoulders and squeezed a little feeling how hard your shoulders muscle were from tension — I do have a flight for Paris! — In the moment he said it you and Harry let out a deep breath relieved — But, it's going to scale in New York and London!

— And how many hours of traveling? — Harry asked getting a little closer to the counter putting his glove covered hand over the counter as well.

— Around 18 or 20 hours — The man answered and you and Harry sighed. You would be there in the morning on the LA time, and on the French Alps time it will probably be 6:30 AM too. You let out a long breath, and Harry looked at you attentively looking for any sign of giving up; he wanted to go, of course, but if you said it would be better to stay, he would be without a second thought.

— Well, we have to go, right? — You said softly to Harry and then redirected your gaze to the man and nodded. — Okay, we’ll keep the tickets.

—They’re economic tickets, all right? I see here that you had executive tickets — The man asked and you can't hesitate to drop a light chuckle.

— No problems! — Harry replied, and then he returned to finishing to configure the informations of your new tickets.

  It didn't really take long, a few minutes and you already had the new tickets in hand. As you both walked to find a place to sit, you remembered that with all the running from the morning none of you had breakfast. You checked your bags on the conveyor belt and went up the escalators at the big LAX Airport looking for a small restaurant to buy something. You chose the Urth Caffé & Bar because you were used to eating in there whenever you had to travel. It was a very cute and cozy place with a yellow lighting, wood tables and chairs that gave a whole charm to it. You both ordered a coffee; you ordered a latte and Harry ordered a black coffee, and to eat you both ordered bagels sandwiches. There were some fans in there this time. They were all pretty respectful and nice when they came over asking for pictures. You both took the pics and talked with them for a while until you had to leave which honestly made your heart aches. You loved when you could meet and talk to your fans, to create that connection it's so important to you but you couldn't risk missing another flight.

   As you were already settled up on your seats, you re-checked your seat bell probably five times in a row while the "In case of emergency" video passed on the little screen in front of you. Harry noticed you checking it again, and he used his hands to hold yours as a sign to stop you.

— Hey, you already did that... — Harry said looking directly into your eyes — Five times, love!

— Oh... — You whispered then redirecting yourself on your seat. The truth is, you're a model, you date a singer and you're probably more in a plane than in your own house, but you are terrified of it. You've always been, just the thought of being on a plane scares you. And we don't even have to say about whenever a turbulence would occurs. Harry knew that, and he took it as a responsibility of his to keep you calm whenever you were on a plane together.

— Oh, let's watch something together! — Harry said getting his upper body closer to you looking at your little screen — We can choose the same thing and watch it!

— Sure, something on your mind? — You asked as you grabbed the ear plunges of the plane trying to turn it on as Harry now were turning his phone off.

— I don't know! Since we finished watching Bly Manor, I have no idea what we should watch next — Harry said putting his phone on his pocket, and then grabbing himself his ear plunge.

— Oh god, and how good was it? — You said having a fan girl moment. Literally, you were such a fan of The Haunting series and all about it. You and Harry binged watching The Haunting of Bly Manor in like a day. — But.. — You turned on your screen and started to look through the christmas movies, yes you also loved them. Both of you do, who doesn't like christmas movies? — Oh, let's watch Princess Switch 2? We didn't have time to watch it! — You clicked on the movie, so you could read the synopsis to have an idea what would be about. You and Harry watched the first one back in 2018 and you guys really liked it so this could be cool. It's actually kinda crazy all of the stuffs you've watched together. It's crazy how you guys can watch a really serious and heavy movie and then watch all of Barbies movies on the same day.

— Alright, let's watch it! — Harry agreed as he searched for the movie himself — I saw in the trailer that there's a third twin on this movie.

— Love, they're not twins!— You'd say getting your movie ready to be started.

 — They're not? Of course they are! If they're not, then what are they? — Harry said putting his ear plunges on and getting the covers that the airplane company use to put on the seats for the passagers. You actually think it's cute that Harry has this thing on being under the covers and cuddled up whenever he was watching to a movie, and with the weather like this, it would be perfect. I mean, it's cold in LA with 46 F°, as you lived in NYC before you could only imagine how the weather was in there with 32F°. But anyway, you kinda missed NYC a little bit. It's honestly kinda messed up now because you haven't officially moved to LA from New York, but the last time you were in NY was probably in early May, before your birthday because you both celebrated your birthday in Holmes Chapel with Anne and Gemma.

— I don't know — You'd chuckle to answer his question feeling him spread the covers on both of you and snuggle himself on your chest — I think they're relatives in some point, but they're not twins! — You'd hear a soft "oh" from Harry as you put the ear plunges yourself and clicked the movie to play. In general, you watched the movie commenting on the scenes and you both really liked it, it was funny and not tiring at all. And then after it, you both bing watched The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, I know it seems crazy but you've been so obsessed with it lately and anytime you were obsessed with something you'd usually make Harry get obsessed too. And I mean, it was a 5-hour long flight and you both could catch up with some housewives drama. The flight ended, and you both arrived in NYC, you'd have a 1 hour and a half stop and you managed to think you both could actually do something in this hour, obviously nothing to far away from the airport, you wouldn't take any risks. So you'd chose one of your favorite places in New York ever aka the M&M's Store. God, you loved this place, and you loved M&M's, and so did Harry.

   There were some paparazzi on the street, but this is NY and it's just a daily basis thing. You both walked around the store buying some really cool chocolates when you saw a cute one with marshmallows and you showed it to Harry getting a disgusted face from him.

— No, I'm so allergic to marshmallow! — Harry would say grabbing some kind of M&M's to see and you rolled your eyes recalling the number of times you both had this conversation before. You turned around getting right on Harry's front and looking into his eyes.

—  You’re not allergic to mashmallows! You’re allergic to one of the ingredients in it, if you do the homemade one you can eat it normally, oh my god! — You said trying your best to show your sassy side and Harry actually only continue saying this because he knows you'll react like this and he think it's cute, so he'd just get closer to your face and give a peck to your lips.

— I know, sorry! — He'd say smirking a little and fixing his beanie on his head with his left hand — I love the ones you make, by the way.

— I know, I'm such a master chef that's how I made you fall in love with me! — You'd answer him with a smirk on your face when you turn around to look more over the chocolates.

— And who said I love ye’, miss? — Harry said mocking you and you’d immediately turn to stare at his face with the most realistic offended expression you could create now.

— Um, excuse me? — You’d say with your righthand touching your chest with raised eye browns — If that’s how you feel I'm just gonna go over there look for Brad Pitt! — You’d say with your sassy tone starting to walk away from him but you were stopped by him when he grabbed your empty hand bringing you closer to him 

— Oh so you're overlapping me for Brad Pitt? — Harry said making you roll your eyes with a playful smile in your mask covered lips.

— Well, take it as a revenge for overlapping me for Mitch every day! — You'd say making him let out a loud laugh — But, I'll consider letting this go if we go to Victoria Secrets right now and you buy me my favorite fragrance!

— Oh, you're such a blackmailer! — Harry would say shaking his head slowly and crossing his arms close to his body watching you put your best puppy eyes on display — Alright, just because I probably love that fragrance more than you! — He said making you give him a big smile that he could notice by the way your eyes got smaller. This is actually a joke because it was pretty rare for having you ask Harry to buy you anything, you'd always tell him that you "didn't need anything", and specially when he comes home with those really expensive Gucci merch. Honestly, all the expensive things that you have, like, Chanel, Versace, Gucci were usually gifts from the brand and a few from Harry because you're much of a economizer thinking that these are actually pretty expensive things and you don't actually need. Why would you go around with a 3 thousand dollars Gucci bag when you can buy a super cute bag for 50 dollars? Yep, Harry didn't understand that on the many times he got you something expensive so then, now he rarely does it because he knows that the way for your heart it's probably the most simple and genuine he can be.

 In the VS shop, you were looking through the fragrances for you favorite one that was Bare Vanilla, it's probably the best. And you've been using it for years now, literally since you were a teenager. When you finally found your Bare Vanilla Kit, you were actually surprised by Harry behind you holding a set of lingerie on the color of pearl with some baby blue lace details. You looked at it and then later at the lingerie and then at him again with a "what is that?" expression on your face.

— Love, I know ye' came here to buy the fragrance but this would look so good in you! — Harry said making a louder voice while pronouncing the "so good" making you touch the fabric with your hands in silence thinking about it as you looked, yes it was really pretty. What can you do? Your man does have a good taste. — Ok I'll buy it as your christmas gift! — You said taking the lingerie carefully from his hand.

— For me? I was thinking more of you in it, but I can wear it if you want. I bet it will define all of my sexy curves — Harry said putting a hand on his own waist making a pose making you laugh out loud of his words, it's the sass for me.

— No, oh my god! I'll be the present. This could be the gift paper — You'd say winking on an eye at him as you tried to control your laugh seeing the smirk on his face, this little promiscuous guy.

   On your way back to the airport you noticed very similar words on a wall beside you and you couldn't hold your emotion when you saw it. It was a black wall written "Do You Know Who You Are?", as in Lights Up. When you showed Harry he got so smiley and blushed at the same time, it's just the shyness in him. You took a quick picture of it before actually entering the airport again. Right on time.

  You were about to face another flight with a six hour and 40 minutes of duration and god, in this cold weather, with covers, hoddies, M&M's, movies and your love made everywhere feels cozy and warm. On this flight, you agreed to watch The Notebook with Harry, and you liked it very much, not as much as he did, but you liked it.  You had taken your sneakers off staying with your socks only, you had also let your hair loose as you leaned your head on Harry's shoulder this time, fixing your covered legs under the cover and feeling the warm sensation coming from his body heat, it wasn't much until Harry realised that you were completely asleep when he tried to talk to you about how Ellie's mom had such an attitude when she decided to hide Noah's letter from Ellie all those years but instead, he saw your sleeping face on his shoulder and his heart melted at the vision so he just decided to let you sleep because he really thought you deserved to, and also, after the movie ended he did sleep as well.

   Your flight arrived in London by 7:28 PM on Los Angeles time. By London's time it was already 5:28 AM, and it had a 44 F° weather. You had a smaller scale time this time. It was a 35 minutes scale, thank god. You both took your time to walk inside the airport. You loved London. You really did. You loved the weather and the beautiful places to visit in here, oh and the cute british accents, you loved it.

   You both walked through the airport observing everything. The people, the christmas lights and the stores. Harry had one of his arms over your shoulders as you walked through it. As you entered the stores session, you'd spot World Duty Free store and look at Harry. — Let's go to World Duty Free and buy colorful highlighters so you can use it on christmas eve! — You say while stopped walking when you got in front of the referred store. Harry looked at the big illuminated sign with the store's name and then back at you.

— A colorful one? D' you think it'll look good? Maybe a gold one, no? — He said pushing you into the illuminated store. You loved that Harry knew this stuff and how sometimes when you'd have nothing to do he would let you put some makeup on his face because he knew you didn't like putting it on your face often.

— Yeah, a gold one would be better! I'll go find one, try looking for other stuff — You'd say getting out of his embrace and walking to the other corner of the store. You looked through the makeup wall in front of you as you searched for a gold highlight.

— Hello, may I help you? — A very young lady came to you with the store's uniform. You looked at her smiling tenderly and shook your head. — Oh no, thank you! I was just looking for a highlighter, but I already found it! — You said showing her the little package in your hand and she smiled back at you saying that if you needed anything else you could call her and you thanked. You would keep looking through the wall to see if you wanted anything else when you noticed a tall man coming over you. You looked at him because well, he was staring you.

— Hm... Hi, I'm Ryan! — He said shyly to you. You just stayed there looking at him with no moves — Hm, I just wanted to say that your American accent it's really cute and... Would you mind giving me your number? — He'd say nervously, and you let out a chuckle as you closed your eyes for a moment.

— I’m really flattered, but I’m here with my boyfriend, I’m sorry — You said softly as you could see Harry coming over to you guys with a very straight face. — There he is! — You pointed at Harry that quickened his pace a little when he saw you pointing at him.

— Oh, I apologize! Anyway, merry christmas! — He said with a tender smile as he walked away from you when you murmured a "Merry Christmas". Harry finally got to you and frowned his eyebrows a little looking at the guy’s back and then back at you.

— Who was it? — Harry softly asked containing his jealousy. Whenever Harry would say in interviews that he was an easily jealous person, he wasn’t joking. But he learned to contain it now because this was the biggest discussion maker on the beginning of your relationship.

— It was this guy Ryan trying to hit on me — You’d say with a smirk on your face because you knew this would tease him — He politely asked me for my number, and then I told him that I was here with my boyfriend.

—You should’ve told him you were here with your handsome and sexy boyfriend — Harry said with joking tone and you raised your eyebrows at him as you started to walk towards the cashier.

— No, I think just ''boyfriend'', is enough!  — You’d say mocking him before you paid your bill. And walked back to the departuring space for Paris.

   You confess that coming back to Paris made you a little nervous. The last time you were here was in February and it was quite...peculiar. But it would be just a scale and things would occur right.

   The flight for Paris were definetely the the fastest one as it lasted only an hour and fifteen minutes. You both had dinner in the plane while binge watching The Real Housewives of Bervely Hills, a little obssesed maybe? Harry had already warned Anne about both of you being late as you all scheduled to get there maybe 6 or 7 hours ago, but as the iconic Queen of Genovia said once ‘’A queen is never late, anybody else is just earlier’’. Oh, you both could’ve watched The Princess Diaries today, damn it.

— As we’re here, we have to admit it... It was quite an adventure, wasn’t it? Three cities in a day — Harry would say taking the ends of your hair between his fingers.

— It was, but I kinda wished we had a little bit more of time in London so we could go to the London Eye — You’d say causing Harry to happily agree with you as it was one of his favorite attractions to go in London.

— All I know is that when we get in there I’ll sleep for as long as I can.

— How can ye’ be sleepy? You slept all the flight from New York to London and I know it! — You’d ask really curiously about his answer because it actually made you surprised on how easily he could sleep. He could be sitting on the most uncomfortable chair in the world but if he closes his eyes, he’ll easily fall asleep.

— It’s my natural talent! Did you think that I could only sing? — He asked rhetorically with a very convincin' tone.

— I’m sorry then Mr.Sleepy! — You would say mocking him as you turned your phone on to answer your missed texts. Gemma has already sent you tons of texts about the house and how’s the climate in there. She told you that you both better be all wrapped up or instead she’ll push your face, oh the good old family love.

    When the plane landed, you and Harry grabbed your suitcases as fast as you could so you could get a cab to the train station and finally arrive on the Alps. You loved Paris in the winter. You loved Paris by the night, and that hasn’t changed. There weren’t paparazzi which contributed to keep you calm but there were maybe some fans spotting you guys and asking for pictures. They’d ask if you both were going to celebrate Christmas in Paris and you’d tell them that it’s just a scale. You were calm but Harry wasn’t. Since the prank in Paris from February, Harry has been incredibly more protective than he already was, and getting back in Paris actually remembered him of that night and that he wouldn’t let it happen again.

   But it all turned out good, the train ride actually felt so relaxing and that made you wonder why in the world none of you have ever traveled together by train. Neither of you slept, though, you both talked. Talked for hours nonstop. You talked about your jobs, your experiences, what you like and what you don’t. You talked about what you wished for 2021 and you even chuckled a bit when Harry said he was looking foward to put ring on your finger in 2021; bullshit, you'd think. But anyway, you'd talk on how in some way you both were grateful for having each other during the hard times we’re all living, getting to know each other better while there was nobody on the streets because actually, if the world was ending you both wouldn’t want to spend it anywhere else and with anyone else.

   The train ride was so calm, so great, so both of you. You were not the kind of couple that needed all luxury, that needed to go out every weekend to have dinner on a fancy restaurant, that needed to buy each other expensive gifts and needed to share every detail of what you did. You were simple. You were comfortable discovering a new world and experiencing things together on your own way and your own time. Neither of you needed all of those stuff. You only needed each other. You needed to feel the warm of each others body, you needed to be graced by the sound of each others laugh and voice, you needed to see the smile on each others faces and to know that even when times get hard you’d always have each other. Your relationship wasn’t perfect, none are. But in the end of the day love always win and if you love each other and it’s meant to be the rest will be history.

   As the sun was starting to rise, you leaned your back in Harry’s chest so you could both see the view from the big glass window. You had your hair loosened on his chest as he envolved you on his arms hugging you from behind supporting his chin by the top of your head. The light yellow sun made the snow even whiter and more resuscitating by touching it with its rays. The sky had this lilac and orange colors, and it seemed to have a breeze air, you couldn’t confirm it though as the train was warmed by a heater. You’d start murmuring to the song Turning Page by Sleeping at Last which caused Harry to smile tenderly. He knew you were doing it by a reflex and actually didn’t think he was going to listen to it, but he did. And he smiled because this had been you guys song for almost three years now. 

—Your love’s my turning page, where only the sweetest words remain — Harry would start singing really close to your ears. Really close and really softly, causing you to smile now but never taking your eyes of the view of the window — Every kiss is a cursive line. Every touch is a redefining place — You’d close your eyes caressing his arm around you and then opening your eyes again, messing with his rings that covered the fingers on his strong hands.

— I surrender who I’ve been, for who you are — You’d complement the song lycris with your eyes closed, feeling nothing more than peace.

— For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart — Harry kept singing holding you tight, because he never would want to let you slip away of his embrace — If I had only felt how it feels to be yours, I would’ve known what I’ve been living for.

— What I’ve been living for! — You complemented. There’s no other place either of you would want to be now. Of course this wasn’t the trip that you both planned, but it was better. It was different, funny and relaxing, and that’s the one thing for you.

   You both got out of that train feeling nothing more than peace, and that’s the spirit of the holidays, isn’t it? The cold sharp of air hitted your face immidietely and you both rushed to get a car that could take you to the holiday house. Gemma would probably kills both of you for not being properly wrapped up but she actually didn’t, thank god for her to be sleeping.

   When you both arrived at the house you struggled a bit to unlock it with the keys but it worked and you came across a beautiful Christmas decoration with a huge christmas tree with a lot of lights and some other cute decorations too. It almost felt like North Pole but it would probably be ten times colder than it was here. You both left your bags on the living room floor and went to take a small tour on the house, when you arrived at the kitchen there were a plate full of brownies and a small note.

    Harry & Y/N,

we couldn’t wait for you to arrive because we were so sleepy but we did those brownies for you guys. Eat it, you must be hungry! We love you and we're looking foward to see you in the morning

                                           — love, Anne.

— Your mother is the best person on the entire universe! —  You’d say showing the note to Harry and grabbing yourself a piece of brownie as he took the small paper on his hands to read it himself as you took a bite from one brownie—  And those brownies are the best thing I’ve ever eaten.

     TO BE CONTINUED.... Christmas special part 1

[achubbydumpling]

(Get Your Kicks On) Route 66

Rating: Mature Words: 1901 Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Public stuffing, Roadtrip, Chubby Stiles

Summary: Stiles and Derek enjoy their first vacation together. Stiles suggests they take on various food challenges to save money while on the road. However, Derek's werewolf metabolism deals with the excess food a lot better than Siles' strictly human one.

(I tried a bit of a different approach to a stuffing, a bit more focused on the way it makes Stiles feel. Hope you enjoy it!)

“It winds from Chicago to LA More than two thousand miles all the way”

“Oh, my God. This is such a good idea! We’ll save so much money.” Stiles was waving the menu around while he talked and almost knocked over his glass of water.

“Right, Derek?”

“Right. Awesome,” was his clipped answer. Derek looked like his usual grumpy self, but with his hand on Stiles’ thigh and with how close he was sitting, Stiles didn’t worry about the slightly pained expression on his face. He’d soften up once the breakfast crowd died down a bit and there weren’t this many people around.

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“We just have to finish those three pancakes and then the food is free! Even if we can’t finish it’s 15 dollars to try and we can take the leftovers on the road.”

Stiles didn’t want to throw in the towel before the challenge had even begun, but it was probably for the best to not go into this completely blind. While waiting for their server to return Stiles looked up eating competitions online.

They did have 90 minutes in total to finish all the food, but Stiles hypothesized that eating as quickly as possible would be the best strategy. Derek argued that they should take advantage of all the time they were given. Now that Derek could focus on something else than his surroundings his hunched over posture slowly relaxed.

The banter eventually escalated into a bet that whoever finished first got to choose a punishment for the loser. Stiles was almost certain he would lose out against the werewolf metabolism, but he didn’t think Derek would go for a particularly harsh punishment. He would have never agreed to this with Scott because he always chose the most embarrassing punishments.

This was his and Derek’s very first vacation on their own after finally sorting out their mutual pining. The road trip had been planned for close to year. However, the exact date had always been pushed back by another monster of the week ruining their plans. Instead of making a round trip they had flown up to Chicago and rented a car instead of taking the Jeep like Stiles had initially planned. The old girl probably wouldn’t have made it anyway.

Another consequence of pushing their vacation back was the weather. Instead of driving in late spring or early summer, when the heat would have still been bearable, it was August—the hottest month of the year.

The AC could barely keep up and all the people that had just eaten breakfast here had heated the small diner up even more. Stiles poured himself another glass of ice water.

He was looking forward to when they would get far enough south to where diners started serving real sweet tea. Boyd had shared a few stories with the pack about the summers he had spent on his uncle’s farm in Georgia. How the only thing that could chase the sweltering heat away for a moment was the ice-cold sweet tea his auntie always kept in the fridge.

When their food finally arrived at the table the server could barely fit both plates on the small table for two. Each pancake was twelve inches in diameter, the stack was piled high with maple syrup, banana, and whipped cream.

“Wow, these are huge!” Derek stifled a laugh.

“There was a picture in the menu.” The server cleared his throat to get their attention before they could dig in.

“When this,” he held a tomato shaped kitchen timer up, “goes off and you have not finished the challenge you will be—” he sighed and made an unenthusiastic buzzer noise “—disqualified.”

“Thanks, pal.” Stiles grinned back. The server glared at him for a second before he wound up the timer and left the table.

“Man, that guy is in a bad mood.” Stiles tried joking around with Derek before they got serious about this challenge.

“You haven’t worked in hospitality before.”

“And you have?” He took another sip of water and waved the glass around threatening to spill all over.

“Summer job.” Derek shrugged and finally picked up his fork.

“Wait, you can’t just drop something like that and not tell me more details.”

“If you don’t want to pay for this mountain of food you better dig in.”

Stiles whined Derek’s name annoyed, but also picked up his fork.

“On three,” Stiles said, but Derek was already chewing the first bite.

“Cheater,” Stiles mumbled around a mouthful of pancake.

These were a lot flatter than the standard-sized pancakes. Probably deflated by their own weight, but the mixture of flour, sugar and oil tasted great all the same. Stiles hadn’t had banana pancakes before, but he welcomed the fruity sweetness in contrast with the straight up sugar of the rest of the meal.

Stiles surprised himself when he managed to keep up with Derek all through the first pancake. When he got started on that second one, he even pulled ahead for a bit, but he hit a wall as soon as half of it was gone. It felt like his stomach had suddenly closed down shop and he felt almost nauseous when he thought of eating even more sugar.

However, when Derek pulled ahead and finished off his second pancake without any trouble Stiles doubled down. He knew it was a loosing battle, but he wasn’t about to give up this easily. Yet, as willing as his mind was, his body failed him. With about three quarters of the last pancake left his determination flagged.

The food weighed heavily in his stomach. The vague nausea from eating way too much sugar curled up into his throat and had him sipping water to try and wash it down, which only made him feel even fuller.

Stiles could picture exactly what he looked like right now. He’d done this in front of his bedroom mirror. His stomach rounding out, like half a beach ball taped to his front. The curve of a belly looking out of place on his thin frame.

He had always loved to eat, not only for the sake of taste, but also because of how it made him feel. Sated. Heavy. Tethered down and not constantly in danger of floating away in his own mind. That moment when his thoughts finally ground to a halt and all he could do was to be overwhelmed by that feeling—almost on the wrong side of too much to handle.

However, he wasn’t at that point yet. This was more of a mental block. Unlike Derek, he didn't really have a sweet tooth. Stiles preferred salty, greasy substantial meals over dessert any day.

Stiles had been sat staring at his plate before Derek leaned against him to whisper, “You ok?”

Stiles groaned but picked up his fork again. Derek didn’t seem affected by the amount of food at all. Then again, the wolves always had to eat a lot just to keep their mass up. They leaned out quickly without enough food, preserving energy.

“Just taking a break.” Stiles could see Derek shifting in his seat, the wolf always craving closeness. They’d talked about this, whatever it was, after Derek had accidentally seen Stiles once afterwards. Stiles had tried his best to explain while still caught in that blissed out state. He didn’t know how but Derek had somehow understood.

Derek finally put that last bite in his mouth and then moved closer to Stiles. The entire side of his body was pressed up against Stiles. He was carefully draped over Stiles shoulders offering support, but not crowding him in. Stiles was still steeling himself for the next bite when Derek’s hand slipped under his shirt. Knuckles dragging against bare skin.

Stiles yelped and grabbed at Derek’s wrist. “What are you doing?” he whispered urgently.

“Helping,” Derek answered and furrowed his brows. Like always. Except they were in the middle of a restaurant and not locked in Stiles’ bedroom.

“Stop. Someone is going to see you,” he paused to search for the right word but then just flicked his eyes to where he was still holding Derek’s wrist.

“We’re not coming back here. You wanted to do the challenge.” Stiles wanted to whine and complain at Derek, but he was right. Stiles had suggested doing the food challenge. He’d honestly just thought about getting free food, only when they had already ordered, did he even think of this possibility.

“Plus,” Derek almost purred into Stiles’ ear, “winner gets to choose a punishment, right?”

Stiles’ “not really a punishment” died in his throat when Derek pulled him almost into his lap and his knuckles started digging into the roundest part of his stomach. They probably just looked like an overly affectionate couple, but that didn’t keep that searing hot shame from bubbling up. Stiles wanted to hide his burning face against Derek’s shoulder. He wanted to push Derek away. Stiles wanted to cram the rest of the pancake into his mouth to keep himself from thanking Derek out loud for getting his hands on his stuffed belly.

Derek hadn’t seemed interested in participating in Stiles’ peculiar activities but every time they had somehow ended up in that situation again, he had gotten more and more affectionate towards Stiles and his bloated middle.

“You’re gonna finish that, aren’t you?” Stiles shook his head, but he stabbed his fork into the pancake, nonetheless.

“Are you?” Derek asked again, a teasing edge to it. Stiles didn’t trust his voice and just nodded.

“Yes, look at yourself. The first chance you get to stuff yourself full of some food and you run headfirst into it.” Derek cupped his bloated stomach and lifted it up a bit.

“Look at that. All the food you stuffed in there making a nice little belly. Do you want to eat like this every day?” Stiles pushed another bite past his lips almost all whipped cream.

“Do you?” Derek prompted him. A whine caught in Stile’s throat, and he pushed it down with another forkful of food. He nodded and hummed agreeably.

“You’re just so greedy to be stuffed full.” Stiles was burning up but instead of reaching for his glass of water he gathered the last bits and pieces on his plate.

“You know what’s gonna happen if I let you eat like this every day?” Stiles was fast approaching the simple state of mind he was craving. He couldn’t decide whether to nod or shake his head. The motion of Derek’s hand on his stomach softened. Rubbing large circles into the stretched skin.

“You’re gonna get fat if you eat like this every day.” With that last mouthful Stiles had finished the challenge, but all he could think about was what Derek had just said.

“Feels so good,” Stiles said. Words slurred and a dopey smile on his face while he turned further into Derek’s body.

“Feels too good to stop, huh? Never had all that food just for free. That’s why you dragged me out here, off the highway. Not because you cared about what you’d eat, but because of how much. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Stiles whispered. “Every day.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’ve got four weeks on the road and me to take care of you.”

“Won't you get hip to this timely tip When you make that California trip Get your kicks on Route 66”

[minghellafine]

Full interview below.

The first thing Max Minghella does when he joins our Zoom call is ask me about the weather. It wasn't just a conversational cliché though, he really wanted to know what it was like where I was. I tell him I'm in New York City, where spring can surprise you with a day that's colder or warmer than it looks. This particular day was chilly. "I'm always cold," he interjects, "I'm reptilian. My body finds a way to keep me cool." He shivered as he spoke, sitting in his sunny backyard in Los Angeles wearing a T-shirt. I checked the temperature right after our call. It was 80 degrees in L.A.

Despite any discomfort, Minghella is just really happy to be at home. Unlike the millions of people who spent 2020 in quarantine, he was working on season four of The Handmaid's Tale throughout the spring and summer."I'm sort of jealous of people who have this moment to pause and reflect," he says soberly. "Even with all of the trauma it's caused and all the things that obviously were detrimental, I know a lot of people who've had big life changes in the past year."

He acknowledged, however, that creating something in a time when everyone wished they could escape was ultimately a lucky thing. "There was a ubiquitous sense of gratitude," he adds.

Outside of the global pandemic, the dynamics on set had shifted — this season, his co-star Elisabeth Moss (or "Lizzie" as he affectionately calls her), was a director. "She was amazing on set," he explained. "Just very in control and it ran super smoothly. When I saw the episodes she directed, it just kind of blew me away. Her style — it's very cinematic and it really underlines the sci-fi elements of the show. It has a real kind of scope and confidence to it. I think she's a real filmmaker."

RELATED: Marvel's New Face Danny Ramirez Has the Range

Minghella's character Nick has an interesting arc this season too –  he's realizing his role as a senior member of the Gilead ruling class, but also still in love with June [Moss]. It's a complex character that challenges you as an audience member. He is the brooding love interest, and while you may root for him and June to be together, you also have to see him for what he is: an architect of a world that kidnaps women and uses them for childbearing.

What made the previous three seasons of the show even harder for viewers to digest was the fact that people so badly wanted to believe there could be a good guy defector — maybe even Nick — in a room full of bad guys. During those years, many people felt that the dystopian elements of the show were reflective of the nationalist agenda being put forth in the United States by the Trump Administration. So much so that a group of protesters famously wore Handmaid costumes to protest anti-abortion bills and Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh's confirmation hearings. Without saying much about the parallels in the show — other than chalking them up to "pure coincidence," Minghella felt the Handmaid's Tale, whose protagonists are anti-Gilead, are "on the right side of history."  He added diplomatically, "Ultimately, I'm most proud because I think it's really great fiction."

I get the sense that the pursuit of "great fiction" is something that consumes Minghella. He's someone who appreciates art (he got his big break in 2006's Art School Confidential), and his parents are Anthony Minghella, the late award-winning director of The Talented Mr. Ripley, and actress Carolyn Choa. He loves details (see our earlier weather conversation). Even the way he talks about Los Angeles has a story-like quality. He tells me about how he knew when the city became his home after a feeling he got driving past the Silver Lake 7-Eleven. As he told it, I pictured it like a scene in an indie movie starring Zach Braff.

"I had this sort of pathological obsession with movies from birth. [My mother] worked for the British equivalent of the Motion Picture Association, so she would watch three films a day. By three or four years old, I was just kind of an obsessed movie person." It's his favorite movie, Beverly Hills Cop ("I think I saw 100 times by the time I was eight years old," he says) that inspired another big role he was working on during quarantine: Minghella stars as a detective opposite Chris Rock in the Saw franchise spin-off Spiral: From the Book of Saw.

"The movie was so serendipitous for me. I feel like I almost manifested it in my life," Minghella muses. "There's a line very early in the movie where we're investigating these crime scenes and we come to a grizzly one. My character looks nauseous. Chris's [character] says to me, 'Are you okay?' And my character says, 'Yeah. I mean I'd been dreaming about this since I was 12-years-old.' And that was a very kind of weird line because it's just true."

Now at 35 years old, Minghella is feeling settled. He is still a "film nerd" that gets giddy with each new opportunity, but he's less anxious about the results. Next thing on his list? Vacation.

"I'm hoping in May once the movie comes out I can run away somewhere."

Read on for his cheesy would-be campaign slogan, his fast-food weakness, and the time he escaped a tornado while working on a film with Blake Lively.

Who is your celebrity crush?

Mary Tyler Moore.

What's the last thing you do before you fall asleep?

I listen to 1950s radio shows. Usually Dragnet. I was researching a project in that period briefly and got sort of into the radio culture of that time. And now I find it incredibly soothing.

Favorite villain?

Hans Gruber.

Describe a memorable dream.

I had a recurring nightmare as a child in which my grandmother turned into a cat. So Tom Hooper's Cats was very traumatizing to me.

First album you ever owned?

My mother bought me the Top Gun soundtrack on audio cassette.

If you were required to spend $1,000 today, what would you buy and why?

I would do anything to help a distressed dog.

If you ran for office, what would your slogan be?

Some kind of tacky pun using my first name. "Take it to the Max," or maybe "Max on, Max off."

Name one place you've never been but have always wanted to go.

Easy. Japan. I went when I was one, but I don't think that counts.

What's the most uncomfortable outfit you've ever worn?

I did a film called Art School Confidential and I had to wear a beret and I found every moment of it truly humiliating. I remember being completely traumatized by it.

Describe your first kiss.

My first kiss was at a bus stop. I was 14 and I lied and told the girl that it wasn't my first kiss, but I think it was probably immediately evident that it was.

What's one dish you're always tempted to order if you see it on a menu?

There are so many things. That's the sad answer. French fries is the truth.

Favorite on-set memory?

I did a movie called Elvis and Anabelle with Blake Lively like 100 years ago and we shot in Texas. There was a tornado one night that forced us to evacuate the set and we had to sort of drive off in a hurry. I put on this song by The Knife called "Pass This On" in the car which is very dramatic and cinematic. The tornado was sort of in pursuit of the vehicle while we were speeding away. And it was just far enough that it wasn't life-threatening, but also a radical visual. That's one of my favorite life memories.

The Handmaid's Tale season 4 premieres on Hulu April 28, and Spiral: From the Book of Saw hits theaters on May 11.

Photographs by Emily Malan. Grooming by Sonia Lee for Exclusive Artists using La Mer. Polaroid Photos by Max Minghella. Special thanks to Polaroid. Production by Kelly Chiello.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Spreading Christmas Cheer

Author: @mega-aulover​

Prompt: Everlark the movie Elf [submitted by @alliswell21​]

Rating: G

Author’s Note: This is a story based off of the movie Elf as requested by @alliswell21​ It’s from “Jovie” i.e. Katniss POV, what she would have seen and fell in love with one Peeta ‘Buddy’ Mellark. 

Special thanks to @norbertsmom​ for her betaing skill and for the name of the story. Parts 3 and 4 will post separately.

_____________

Pt 1

I watch Peeta gently kiss the top of our first born’s head. Holly’s dark hair is braided into two plaits; her blue eyes closing softly. 

“And Papa Elf said, grandpa was on the naughty list…” his voice is soft.

Suddenly Holly’s eyes widen as she remembers something. Her blue eyes are laser focused on Peeta. “Papá, es verdad que mamá estaba en la  lista de los niños malos?”   

“Y quien te dijo esto?” I ask from the door. We never discuss my role in Peeta’s adventure, or the fact that I was on the naughty list. Ever. 

“Santa,” Holly says.

Ese gordo, Santa has loose lips. I think about teaching him about keeping secrets until it’s time to explain to our child about the past. But before I can say anything, Peeta gives me a look. He always knows when I’m having evil thoughts. I sigh, and redirect my thoughts, because Peeta made me believe in love, joy, and Christmas.    

“Your papa saved more than grandpa that Christmas. He saved me too.”

Holly’s eyes lit up like her father’s before the sleepiness creeps back into their depths.

“Now go to sleep so Santa can come down the chimney.”

“Night, mama, night papa,” Holly whispers right before she drifts off to sleep. 

Together we walk out of our daughters bedroom. Peeta slides an arm around my shoulders. He dips down and nuzzles my cheek. He steers me to the living room. I drag my feet. Peeta is up to something.

“Okay, spill it, Mellark.”

He gives me a wide eyed smile.

The hair at the back of my neck stands up straight. 

He’s got that look, that please tell me a bedtime story stare, and not just any story. 

“No.”

Peeta pauses and gives me a puppy dog look with a full lip pout.

“No.”

“Come on, Sweetums, my li’l sugar plum,” Peeta says in an excited whisper.

“No…no don’t waggle your eyebrows at me, Peeta. Buddy. Mellark.” I pronounce each one of his names.

Peeta’s grins so brightly; his eyes shine brighter than Christmas lights. His hat is slightly crooked as he hops and does that stupid little dance of his that makes me want to tear off his green tights. Yep, I said tights. My husband was raised as an elf, a six foot two, blond, wavy haired, giant with broad shoulders, washboard abs, and is genuinely sweet. Sweeter than eggnog.

He grabs me by the waist. “You know you wanna,” he says in that sexy time voice of his that’s reserved only for me. 

Canasto! 

I should clarify for everyone listening to my tale; you should know canasto isn’t a vulgar or bad word. It means basket. But I like the way it sounds in Spanish. So I say it with real vehemence. It’s like peaches in Spanish sounds like a curse word. Melocotón! Tu eres un Melocotón! Which translates into you’re a peach. 

I digress.

I let out a big sigh. There’s no way I can say no to him and he knows it! Canasto!

“I love it when you tell the story of how we met from your point of view.“ 

"You’re an evil gremlin,” I say with no heat in my voice. It’s my personal nickname for him. As in the gremlins when they ate after midnight. However to be fair, if you see Peeta, he’s not scary at all, he’s more like a big teddy bear.  

Peeta laughs and my heart flip flops. Because he is anything but; he is so congenial.

Peeta puts his hands on my belly, my very big belly. It’s baby number 2; actually it’s baby number two and three. They are counted as one until they’re born. I know what he’s doing, the evil gremlin! He’s trying to distract me because I’m due to give birth. I have mild pangs because I’m carrying twins and I’m nearing my due date.

He carries me and sits me on his lap. “Now start from the beginning.”

“From the candy cane forest?” I ask.

“No from your point of view,” his eyes dance gently as he rests me against his chest, rubbing my bulging belly.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

“Don’t forget to start with once upon a time,” Peeta insists, trying to contain his excitement.

“Once upon a time.”

“This is going to be good,” Peeta whispers.

“Are you going to let me tell the story?”

“Oh yea,” Peeta placed a kiss on my nose. “Go ahead.”

Closing my eyes I picture the year things changed. Because everything in my life was about others and never myself. I was always trying to be someone else, what everyone expected of me. 

It’s hard being a foster kid, and getting out of the system is kind of like getting out of jail. Suddenly you have all this freedom, but you’ve been conditioned to follow all of these rules, so when you are free, you do one of two things. You get in trouble, and try to get sent into an institution; some of us call it the iron college. Or you try to keep your nose clean and learn in the school of hard knocks. In my case, I kept my head above the water for my sister’s sake.  

“I love my family,” I muttered underneath my breath. 

I muttered it again as my sister destroyed, no scratch that, mutilated Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas."  

Did I forget to mention that I love my family?   

I do. I love my family and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them, but at that moment I wanted to scratch my ears out with dull spoons.  

My perfect baby sister is a smoking hot blonde runway model and the muse for Karl Lagerfeld, but she has the worst singing voice known to man. You want to torture someone, hire my sister, and have her sing to the person you want to torture. Within 3 seconds flat, she can have even the most hardened of spies spilling their guts like a canary.

The one thing I could not stand beside my sister’s singing was Christmas. 

I loathed Christmas.

I was not ashamed to say it.  Every fiber of my body I hated Christmas!   If I had ever met the real Santa back then, he had better hoped that I was not holding my bow and arrow, because I would have shot him through the eye. Not that I believed in Santa then, but if I had known there was a real life Santa Claus, I’d have hunted him down, and burned the fat man’s jolly red outfit. I would then gleefully take a joy ride in his sleigh into his workshop like Bill Murray did in Groundhog Day when he allowed the groundhog to drive him off the cliff into a fiery death.

At this point you are wondering why I hated Christmas so much.

There were many reasons why the holiday was so contemptible to me. One, my father died on Christmas day. Two, my mother checked out on us that same Christmas day. The next Christmas Eve was when my sister and I were separated into different foster homes.  It took me a few months to find my six-year-old baby sister. I had been sent to a foster family who used foster kids for slave labor, to have them wipe and clean their floors while the Mrs. of the family spent the whole day in luxurious spas and getting Botox treatments, as if that was going to improve her mug. 

My baby sister was luckier. Primrose was placed in a foster home in the middle of suburbia with a 2 story house with a picket fence. A woman named Cecilia and her husband Ronald had never been able to have kids, and they doted on my sister. They brought her up to be the princess she always said she was. Honestly, they were rather shocked when my twelve-year-old cynical self rolled up into their home screaming for my baby sister, Primrose. Prim came running out of nowhere and latched herself on to my leg like an octopus. Best Spring ever, so I do love the Spring. 

But before you think we were reunited, we weren’t. The family that had Primrose never wanted me. And even if they did, we technically didn’t have the same last name. Primrose carried my mom’s last name while I carried my dad’s. My sister was Primrose Emmerson and I was Katniss Everdeen. Our parents had a silly agreement. They were also foster kids, so they decided that I would take dad’s name and the next one born would take our mothers name. 

They didn’t have family, and her parents lived a common law marriage. Their childish decision caused havoc. There was a mix up and we weren’t processed as sisters. Plus, I never stayed in the same foster home for long so even if they wanted me, they never knew where I was, but no matter where I was, I found a way to talk to Primrose, because as long as Prim was loved and cared for, my situation didn’t matter.

After our brief reunion, I had to go back to the family that I was placed in, and my sister stayed with her family. I didn’t stay with mine for very long; I became a statistic. A rolling number on someone’s computer screen. I was bounced around from one family to another in all sorts of seedy homes. 

So you can see why I’m so jaded. Every bad thing that ever happened to me, has happened on that freakin’ holiday. And there was one more reason I disliked that holly jolly holiday so immensely. For some reason, the universe hated me. 

No matter where I went, what city, what town within the state, I could guarantee you that it was a racket, a billion dollar racket to make parents crazy and buy things for their kids they didn’t need. For some reason, it pleased people to take my olive skin, dark hair, scowling self and put me into a sparkly Christmas cheer, “gag” pointy eared elf costume.

So with a week until Christmas, I was listening to my sister butcher another holiday favorite song. Then Prim screeched. And I sighed in relief.

"Katniss,” Prim said, coming out of the bathroom. “The water is cold!”

I looked heavenward. “The pipes. I forgot they’re working on the water main outside. They said there would be interruption to service.”

“Oh, you know I can get us a hotel room,” Prim said toweling dry her pale blonde locks. 

My studio apartment wasn’t what my sister was used to. She was a freaking couture runway model, six foot one, so slim nothing off the rack fit her. “I’m sorry Prim, I was so excited to see you.”

Prim smiled. “Look, I only have a few hours left. How about I treat you to lunch before I go back up to Connecticut to spend Christmas with Cecillia and Ron.” Prim smiled at me. “You know you’re more than welcome to come. They always ask about you.”

I loved my baby sister. She was amazing. And I was damned glad that the Henderson's were an amazing couple, but I knew the score. They didn’t know what to do with me. “As long as you don’t mind me wearing my elf costume.”

Primrose chuckled. “You make the cutest elf though.” She patted me on the head using a baby tone with me. Prim was taller than me by a foot. I was tiny, or as Prim said, compact size.

“I could still put you over my knee, little duck,” I growled. “Así que mira ver.”

My sister laughed and she delighted in taunting me. Prim no longer spoke Spanish, but she understood the language. “You’re adorable when you’re angry, an angry little elf, aren’t you?”

“Primrose,” I said in Spanish. I rounded my ‘r’s’ when I said her name. 

“Awe, I don’t don’t get why you hate Christmas so much.” Primrose winked going to the screen divider to get dressed. My sister was used to dressing and undressing in front of dozens of people. I, on the other hand, was not so free with nudity. Primrose said I was a prude. If I hadn’t I told her to use the screen, she would have changed right in front of me. 

“Did you know there are only three jobs an elf can have,” Prim said from over the screen. 

I sighed. Unlike me, Primrose loved Christmas. Hell, she even suggested that there might be a real Santa Claus. I told her the only people who look for ways to sneak into people’s houses were criminals. 

Prim continued her story about elves. “The type of elves that live in trees and make cookies, the types that make shoes, and the best type.”

“Let me guess, Christmas elves,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Prim grinned. She came around the screen wearing thigh high red boots, jeans and a camel tunic sweater that looked like cashmere. “Come on sis, let me treat you to breakfast so that you can go terrorize the children of Macy’s toy department.”

  Pt 2 

Peeta grins excitedly, breaking the narration. “You know she’s right. Papa says the cookie elves have high insurance premiums because their tree catches fire all of the time.” 

“Peeta,” I huff. “Do you want me to finish the story?” 

“Absolutely,” he hugs me closer. “I’m so sad you and Prim never got to grow up at the North Pole with me.”

I can’t help but smile at his sincere wish. “Oh Peeta,” I kiss his cheek.

“The only thing I would never let you do was toy testing,” Peeta whispers.

I chuckled. Peeta hated Jack-In-The-Box’s. They scare the dickens out of him. I lay my head on his shoulders. “Are you going to let me finish the story?”

“You know,” he says, blue eyes twinkling. “I’d spotted you in the city that first day.” 

“You were jumping across the lines of the cross walk, “ I grin at the memory. 

“I followed you until I saw the Empire State Building. Then I went to see my father.”

“I know,” I caress his face.

“Start from that point.”

“Okay, you ready now.” My babies were moving in my belly.

“Right, you were in your father’s office delivering the most awkward Christmas gram.” 

Peeta chuckles. “I don’t have your pretty voice.”

I sigh. “Peeta.”

“Right, I’ll be quiet.”

I give him a look. 

“But just so you know, when those guards told me to go back to Macy’s, I was curious as to why you were dressed as an elf.“

I roll my eyes. Did I forget to mention my husband is a talker. He is a chatterbox. I swear Peeta is the type who’d make friends with a paper bag.

"I thought your elf name was so pretty,” he sighs happily.

“Peeta, if you want me to tell the story. You have to hush!” I admonish, if I didn’t we would be here until tomorrow.

“Oh,” he gushes. “Yes, tell the story.” 

“So, there I was in the middle of New York, like a morsel in shark infested waters. I.E….”

“That passion fruit spray is horrible,” Peeta grumbles. “I do not know how women drink that stuff.” 

I want to laugh. There are still things that Peeta doesn’t understand about human society; perfume was one of them, and that fact endeared him to me.

“Can you start at the moment our eyes met?” Peeta gives me a wobbly smile. 

Ah, now I know why he’s interrupting so much. “Okay.”

Sighing I recall that day. Prim and I were out to breakfast. She was harping on me to find someone. Did I fall to mention Primrose was only twenty years old at the time, and at that age I was ancient at the tender age of twenty six. Seriously twenty-six. So what if I had never dated, never had a boyfriend, and never kissed anyone. My sister was right. I was a prude, but I’d seen how love could screw you over. My mom never recovered and she died alone in some home of a broken heart. All I had in the world was my sister. My Prim, and she was the only person I would love. Until that afternoon. 

“Seriously Katniss, you’re twenty-six,” Prim said. 

Eye rolling was a national pastime when speaking to a glamazon who thought I needed to date.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Prim said, removing my sunglasses. “And also, sunglasses in the middle of December, so not tre chique.” 

Eye roll, eye roll, eye roll. Fake smile. CANASTO!

“You are the worst,” Prim hissed.

I knew my sister wasn’t mad at me. Annoyed, yes. Mad, no. “Prim, it’s just I’m not interested in dating anyone.” 

“Katniss, I just don’t want you to impersonate elves for the rest of your life, and when you’re like forty-six, you’ll realize you’re alone with a cat, who pisses in your shoes, and scratches your furniture.” 

I moved to pay our bill.

“No way,” Prim said, slamming her hand on the bill. “I make what you make in a month in two hours of work. This is on me.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. 

“Also, stop closing yourself to Christmas. Santa isn’t going to leave you anything under the tree.”

“Like Santa exists,” I snorted.

Prim gasped. “You take that back. Santa Claus is real Katniss, just like the rainbows, and pigs and frogs having a long term, caring relationship, and love exists.” 

My sister’s wide eyed passionate confession shook me, but the only words that came out of my mouth were, “a frog and a pig?” 

“Miss Piggy and Kermit are together, and if they can make it, no matter what the media says, anything is possible.”

“Huh,” I said, leaving the luncheonette near Penn Station. We walked to the corner, where she’d take the stairs to the lower level. 

I took a look at the stairs, knowing this was the moment I would say goodbye to my sister once again. My eyes filled with unwanted tears. I could still recall the little girl with the untucked shirt that looked like a duck tail. It’s where the nickname li’l duck came from.

“Don’t cry,” Prim whispered. “Quack, quack.”

“I hate it when we have to say goodbye,” I said quietly.

“It’s not goodbye, Katniss; it’s until the next time.” Prim grinned then she took my elf hat and put it on my head. “Go on, terrify the poor children of the city with your menacing scowl. But you better watch out, better not cry.”

I groaned. “Prim, I would rather hear seagulls squawking then you singing.” 

“I know, that’s why I do it,” Prim said.

“You’re a brat.”

“Brat, I’m on Santa’s nice list. You’re the one on the naughty list.”

“There’s no such thing as Santa…” the words died on my lips as I saw a huge man dressed in an elaborate elf outfit jumping on the lines of the crosswalk gleefully. I was struck by the joy on his face.

He looked like an angel with wavy blond hair and innocent blue eyes. It was one thing to see a six-year-old child with that wide eyed innocence, but a tall, broad shouldered man with large hands made me think perhaps he’d escaped his caretakers. His elf outfit wasn’t like the cheap one I had to wear. It was made from a rich fabric with elaborately embroidered gold thread. 

If there was something I knew about, it was fabric. I never had soft fabrics growing up and I was obsessed over soft materials. I dreamed of cashmere, Egyptian cotton, mulberry silks, and linens. His green tunic was made from merino wool, like the ones they made in England in those bespoke shops.  Even his hat, although a ridiculous cone shape, was not some cheap fabric covered cardboard that you’d find in a costume shop. It was made from genuine thick green wool felt with a yellow satin ribbon wrapped around it. A red feather bobbed up and down as he jumped.

He was so happy. He looked up, as if sensing my presence. Our eyes met and he smiled jovially and waved at me. My mouth went dry, because, gaw, Canasto!

This man-child was gorgeous. 

“Earth to Katniss.” Prim snapped her fingers in my face.

“Sorry.” I looked back to my sister.

Prim looked over her shoulder. “Are you okay.”

I dipped out of my sister’s way. “I think I saw an elf.”

Prim laughed. “It’s Christmas, Katniss. Santa’s elves are everywhere.” Prim gave me a hug before descending the stairs to the lower level of the station. 

Seeing my sister go was difficult, but I couldn’t shake the tall man dressed as an elf. He even had on yellow tights with black elf shoes. 

I made my way to Macy’s. I could see the Empire State building in the background as I took a left to head to the employee’s entrance. 

When I arrived, the floor manager Brutus headed straight to me. He was a ridiculous man with muscles in his neck and a bald head. His meaty fingers held a tiny clipboard. 

Brutus did not believe in technology. He refused to use a tablet. He said the muckety-mucks, as he called them, were out to get him. He wore dark brown pants that were too small for his large frame and even when he stood you could see his white socks. He wore a sweater vest with various pens in his front pocket and a cheap plastic necklace that was supposed to look like tree lights.  

“Jovie,” Brutus said looking over his shoulder.

“Yes, Brutus,” I smiled. Jovie was my elf name.

“Our last Santa quit, and we have no one, so until then I need you to help out in gift wrapping. Don’t forget to make sure the ribbon curl is six inches.”

“But you need more than six inches, to make a good curl.”

“Six inches.”

Sighing I walked to the station and nodded to the girls who were at the gift-wrapping station. I sat there trying to make six inch curls. People were insane at Christmas; they were stressed out to buy things, and things never made anyone happy. Things were just things.  

The line of people got shorter and I noticed the tree in the center of the sales floor was looking a little sad. So getting the ladder, I rearranged the ornaments and noticed one of the lights was out. From this vantage point I saw Brutus drag him in, the elf I saw on the street.

Heat rushed to my cheeks and I focused on the tree, eavesdropping the entire time. 

“Buddy, you need to remember you get a half-hour break when you work under six hours and a one hour break when you work over six hours. If I catch you on the floor again I’ll have to write you up.” 

His name was Buddy. My lips formed a goofy smile at his name. Up close he was prettier, his wavy hair curled up at the ends. A shiver ran up my spine at all of those curls. I could picture little boys with blond ringlets and a little girl with dark tresses in green colored elf clothing. I held on to the ladder as I swayed. 

“Wow, what’s this?” HIs eyes quickly darted to the crowded sales floor. 

“This is the north pole,” Brutus said looking at his precious clipboard.

“No it’s not,” Buddy waved at a pair of babies inside of a stroller. 

“Yes it is,” Brutus said.

“No it’s not,” Buddy eye’s traveled to the tree and I hid behind it so that he didn’t see me.

“Yes it is,” Brutus put his hands on his wide hips.

“No it’s not,” Buddy said smiling. “Where’s the snow?”

“He’s right, there’s no snow,” a six-year old girl said. She’d been listening to the conversation.  

I nearly snorted. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Brutus brows knit together.

“I just like to smile, smiling’s my favorite thing,” he said. Bouncing to the Christmas music that was being pumped through the speakers. 

“Well stop smiling, and make work your favorite thing to do. And who gave you that outfit?”

“It’s mine,” Buddy said, splaying those large hands on his chest looking down at his elf outfit. 

Brutus looked at the intricate gold embroidery. “Fine, if that’s your story. You should make work your priority instead of shopping.” Brutus sighed, looking at his clipboard again. “I have to make the announcement.”

Buddy nodded, but once more was looking around. 

I was working on the tree lights by now and really didn’t want to get down because I wanted to keep staring at him. At his great legs. Normally tall guys had spindly legs. Not his, yum. 

“Okay I’ve got an announcement. Santa will be here tomorrow at 10AM. Keep your receipts so you can see Santa.” 

“SANTA!” Buddy yelled. He jumped, clasped his hands and a little girl next to him joined him. Soon there was a flock of kids doing the same thing, all speaking at once and he was nodding and speaking to them as if he knew Santa. 

I chuckled cause I’ve never seen Brutus look so stunned and speechless. He was carried away by Chaff, his second in command. 

Buddy turned and focused on me. I pretended that he wasn’t just a few feet away from me. I could feel his gaze as I fixed the bulb that was not letting the string of lights to turn on. The tree lit up and I swear his eyes seemed to glow brighter than the lights on the tree.

My stomach did a little flip-flop. “What!” I said defensively. I turned and saw how big his eyes were and the genuine smile. “Are you enjoying the view?”

“I love Christmas trees,” he said hesitantly. “It’s nice to see someone else who enjoys elf culture as much as I do.” 

Of course the guy that would make butterflies dance in my stomach was a wackadoo. I scowled. This wasn’t happening. Getting down from the tree, I quickly walk away, grabbing a few stuffed animals that were discarded and putting them back on the display.

“Looks like someone needs Christmas cheer and the best way to do it is to sing.”

“I don’t sing,” I muttered.

“Of course you can.” He chased after me.

“No,” I said trying to get him to stop, but liking that he’s walking after me like a wide eyed puppy-dog.

“Anyone can. All you have to do is put a group of words together in a tune,” he said sweetly.

I hopped on up on the stage where the guy in the red suit would be seated tomorrow. I turned to look at him. As I spoke to him, I couldn’t keep the hurt from my voice. Because the last time I sang a Christmas song it was with my dad, hours before he died.  “I know that, I can sing, but I choose not to sing.”

“Look, I’ll do it for you maybe it will make you smile,” Buddy said. He takes a deep breath, “I”M SINGING. I’M IN A STORE AND I AM…”

It was horrible, but I couldn’t help but smile. 

“THERE’S NO SINGING IN THE NORTH POLE!” Brutus comes running out from behind the registrar.

“Yes there is,” Buddy says grinning at me. “I’m Peeta.”

“Wait I thought your name was Buddy?”

“That’s my middle name,” Peeta said. “Is Jovie your name?”

“No,” my voice sounds breathy. “Jovie is my elf name.”

“So what’s your real name?” His voice sounded deeper and I swear I could see nothing else but his big blue eyes tenderly gazing at me.

“Katniss,” I said, wondering why my knees were so wobbly. I couldn’t fall for a guy who thought he was an elf. A very good looking, broad shouldered guy with the face of an angel, but nonetheless, a complete wakadoo.    

The ten minute warning came on letting people know they needed to go home.

“Oh I’ve got to get ready for Santa,” Peeta muttered under his breath. But before he could move Brutus appears. 

“Buddy,” Brutus grabbed him by the arm and hauled him away. I was left standing on that stage with a big old goofy grin on my face.

[youareinlovees]

Taylor & Joe in 2016

April – Based on the lyrics to Gorgeous, it’s speculated that Taylor and Joe first met on the intersection of Sunset Boulevard and Vine Street, potentially at The Bowery gastropub.

At the time, Joe was in LA doing reshoots for Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk.

They most likely met through mutual friends, as Taylor spent a lot of her time in LA that spring with Lily Aldridge, Lily is married to Caleb Followill, and Caleb is good friends with Garrett Hedlund, one of Joe’s Billy Lynn co-stars. (x)

The lyric 'flashback when you met me, your buzzcut and my hair bleached’ suggests they met sometime after the 15th, since that’s when she got her hair bleached. (x) 

May 2nd – Taylor and Joe both attend the 2016 Met Gala held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.

Since Taylor was a co-chair that year, she had to greet all the guests, so we know they definitely talked to each other that night.

Joe was part of the Burberry table for the event (x), having previously attended the 2016 Burberry fashion show earlier in the year. (x) 

While in NYC, he stays at the Bowery Hotel. (x)

May 31st – Joe goes to the UK premiere of The Neon Demon. (x)

June 1st – People magazine releases several articles announcing Taylor and Calvin’s break up. (x) (x)

June 7th – Joe attends the Glamour Women of the Year Awards in London. (x) (x)

June 10th – Joe goes to a party in London hosted by the chief executive of Burberry. (x)

June 13th – TMZ reports that Taylor has rented a townhouse on Cornelia Street in New York, whilst her Franklin Street apartment is being renovated. (x) (x)

June 15th – The Sun reports that Taylor is dating Tom Hiddleston. (x)

June 24th - Joe and Gigi Hadid are in Copenhagen for a Vogue photoshoot. (x) (via tillthebattlepickedme)

July 6th – Joe is seen at the Warner Music Group summer party in London. (x)

July 8th - Taylor and Tom fly commercial from LA to Sydney. (x)

According to another passenger on the plane, Taylor plays Scrabble during the flight (presumably on her phone because nobody takes big physical board games on commercial flights and the creepshot of Hiddleswift on the plane suggests she wouldn’t have had anywhere to put the board anyway). In hindsight, knowing how Taylor and Joe play lots of Scrabble together including online Scrabble aka Words With Friends, and how they stayed in touch largely via texting that summer, it’s very possible she was playing against Joe. 

(via tillthebattlepickedme)

July 27th – Taylor and Tom go out to dinner in LA after returning from Australia, and this ends up being the last time they’re papped together. 

Afterwards, Tom goes back to continue filming Thor: Ragnarok while Taylor flies to Nashville, and then the Hamptons. (x)

August 9th – Taylor moves into the Cornelia Street rental. (x)

August 14th – Tom is seen boarding Taylor's plane in LA. It lands in Rhode Island, and articles are published saying she greeted him at the airport. (x)

August 16th – Taylor’s jet leaves RI for Nashville, where it drops Taylor off, before going to LA. (x) Tom is papped arriving at LAX. (x) He then presumably goes back to Australia to continue filming. (This day is the last time Hiddleswift are in the same place before their breakup is announced on September 6th.)

An interview with Joe for the September issue of Vogue US is released, alongside his photoshoot with Gigi. (x)

August 29th – Taylor is in Nashville for jury duty and writes in her journal that “this summer is the apocalypse.” This could mean that she and Tom broke up during or shortly after their two days together in RI, and she was dreading the public's reaction to another breakup, on top of everything already going on that summer. (x) (x) 

August 31st – Joe replies to his drama school friend on Twitter, saying that he’ll see him soon. Since his friend was living in London at the time, this indicates that Joe isn’t in the UK, and is almost definitely in NYC for something Billy Lynn related.

August 31st – Taylor is seen in NYC after returning from jury duty in Nashville (x)

Fans theorise about what might have happened on this day. (x)

(Additional thoughts)

Regardless of the exact date, Taylor later says at the rep sessions that they kept in touch after they first met in spring 2016, met up again later on and things turned romantic. (x)

Unlike on Franklin Street, the Cornelia Street house has a private garage which allows her to come and go without being papped the moment she steps out of her front door. This is why none of the NYC Taylor sightings around this time are on Cornelia Street, and instead all pap pictures are taken outside her gym, outside restaurants, or at the entrance to her Franklin Street apartment. This also explains how she is able to take Joe back to Cornelia Street without them being seen. The Cornelia Street floorplans additionally confirm that the master bedroom is on the third floor, which fits with, 'Third floor on the West Side, me and you,’ in verse 2 of Delicate.

(via tillthebattlepickedme)

Years later, David Aldea who owns the townhouse is interviewed by Inside Edition. He’s asked whether he ever met Joe whilst Taylor was staying there, and he says that “a gentleman never speaks of such matters.” 

(It’s similar to the saying ‘a gentleman never tells,’ which means guys should be respectful and never talk about their hookups in detail, so him saying that meant yes he did know they were seeing each other / hooking up, but didn't want to talk about it out of respect for Taylor)

September 2nd – Taylor starts writing Gorgeous in her Cornelia Street rental (x) 

Original lyrics: “you’re so gorgeous and I ain’t just talking ‘bout your face, but look at your face / and I’m so curious, your mind got me feeling some type of way, what can I say? you’re gorgeous”

September 6th – People magazine confirms Taylor and Tom’s breakup, stating that it was an “amicable split” (x)

September 6th – Taylor films a video of her writing the chorus of King of My Heart in her Cornelia Street rental. (x)

September 6th & 9th – Taylor’s seen leaving the gym in NYC. (x)

September 14th – Gigi says in an interview with ES Magazine that she and Taylor both have a thing for British guys and "like the British sense of charm" (x)

September 16th – Taylor continues working on Gorgeous at the piano in her Nashville apartment (x)

Original lyrics: “I got a boyfriend, he’s older than us, I haven’t seen him in a couple of months, I go through phases when it comes to love / I’m nothing that you want but I must say, you’re so gorgeous”

“I haven’t seen him in a couple of months / my reputation precedes both of us”

It’s possible that this version was written about them meeting up on the dive bar night, and the boyfriend she hasn’t seen in a while is Tom – since they were most likely broken up but still publicly together.

September 17th – Taylor attends the Music City Wine and Food Festival in Nashville. (x)

On the same day, Taylor continues working on Gorgeous and she changes the lyric to “I got a boyfriend he’s older than us, he’s in the club doing I don’t know what.” 

It’s pretty likely that this line is now referring to Calvin, and the song has been reworked to be about Taylor and Joe meeting for the first time back in April.

September 19th – Taylor flies to Max Martin & Shellback’s studio in LA and finishes writing Gorgeous (x)

Taylor also works on the verses and pre-chorus of King of My Heart on the same day. (x)

Original lyrics: “salute to me like the American dream”

(Taylor being an absolute comedian and coming up with the Range Rovers and Jaguars lyric)

A video she later posted to The Swift Life was filmed on this day, where she talks about going into the studio for the first time in a while and starting TS6 (x)

“I’m going into the studio, I’m starting the next album, aaahh I’m so excited! I haven’t been working, I’ve been out of work, I’m going back to work, so excited!”

September 19th – Joe and Cara both attend a Burberry fashion show in London. (x) (x)

September 20th – Taylor writes the bridge of King of My Heart at her house in LA (x)

September 21st – Taylor records King of My Heart at Max & Shellback’s studio (x)

September 27th – Taylor has dinner at the Waverly Inn in NYC with Cara, Jack, Lorde, Suki Waterhouse and Sienna Miller. (x)

It’s possible that this was the night the Cruel Summer bridge happened. (x) 

As far as we know, there’s three *significant* events that happened in summer-fall 2016 – the dive bar night, the cruel summer outburst and the conversation on the roof where they get serious and decide to run away to London.

Because the dive bar night was at the end of August and the roof conversation in November, ~he looks up grinning like a devil~ would’ve happened between those two events. Personally, I’m convinced it’s related to their anniversary, so it might’ve happened the night before and then they got exclusive the next morning.

The Lover prologue says Cruel Summer is about “confessions of love on a drunken night out.” (Further thoughts on this here and here)

Since Joe was papped leaving the Bowery Hotel in May, it's likely that he also stayed there for Billy Lynn promo / whenever he was in NYC all through spring-fall 2016.

Interestingly, the Waverly Inn is a 7 minute drive from the Bowery Hotel, so she could’ve easily gone to meet up with him after dinner. 

September 28th – Taylor and Joe officially start dating. (x) (x)

September/October – In 2021 Deuxmoi posted this:

Since it’s an old submission from their inbox that was found by searching the keyword ‘Bowery,’ there’s no way of knowing when it was first sent, or whether it’s actually reliable (but it’s fun to believe anyway).

On the other hand, we know Taylor was hanging out with Gigi during this time - maybe they went to the Bowery when they were out together on the 12th September, which would also fit with that being the first time the submitter saw Taylor at the bar there. The last paragraph also reminds me of So It Goes… ('come here dressed in black now’) although that doesn’t really prove anything since the song came out long before this submission was written.

via tillthebattlepickedme

October 12th – Taylor and Joe attend a private Kings of Leon concert together at Le Poisson Rouge lounge in the West Village. 

Afterwards, they go to an afterparty held at the Bowery Hotel and meet up at a bar named Lovers of Today. (x) (x)

October 14th – Billy Lynn premieres at the New York Film Festival, and Joe walks the red carpet and does some promo. (x)

Mid October – Taylor writes and records Delicate around this time, and we know this because she has the same gold neck tattoo in the Eliot Sumner concert candids from the 13th. (x)

October 22nd – Taylor performs with a cold at the United States Grand Prix in Austin, Texas. (x) Joe had a cold the week after when he was doing interviews in Taiwan.

October 23rd – Taylor attends Drake’s 30th birthday party. Several media outlets theorise about a possible relationship between them but the rumours are denied straight away. (x) (x)

October 28th – In the evening, Taylor flies from LA to NYC, and then from NYC to London. However, she stays completely under the radar and isn’t spotted anywhere in London. (x) At the time some blogs and gossip sites theorise that she’s back with Tom, but in hindsight she almost certainly went to see Joe. (via tillthebattlepickedme)

October 31st – Taylor returns to NYC from London. She dresses up as Deadpool for Halloween and throws a party that Kennedy Rayé, Lily Donaldson, Gigi, Camila Cabello and Martha all attend. 

In an interview with Jimmy Fallon, Camila is asked about the cat lady costume she wore to the party. (x)

“So then these two, like, attractive guys come in, and so I just went to the bathroom and I had this black turtleneck and pants under, and I just like, took [the costume] off. Then I came back, and I was like, it was really hot.”

The next day, her jet flies to London and back. It’s pretty likely that this was to drop Joe (and his friend) back to the UK, so he’d be able to fly to Taiwan and China for Billy Lynn promo.

November 11th – Taylor, Andrea, Claire Winter, Eliotte, Alana Haim and Este Haim go to the Arclight Theatre in LA to see Joe’s movie Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk. (x)

November 19th – This polaroid of Taylor and her guitar, captioned “How would you feel having a song about you?” was taken in Nashville. 

It's later included in one of the reputation magazines and credited to Frosty Crew Photography, aka Joe. 

(He used to have an LTD under “Spencer Frost” and we also know that it’s some kind of inside joke between him and his mates)

November 20–22nd – It’s possible that Taylor and her mom’s side of the family were in Puerto Rico. Since she was only there for 2 days and we know Joe was with her on the 19th, it’s pretty likely he was there too, and the trip was for him to meet her extended family.

November 23rd – Taylor is spotted walking around in NYC with Kelsea Ballerini, the last time Taylor is seen for nearly 8 weeks (x)

It’s pretty likely that this video of her driving in the UK was taken around this time, judging by her hair and the fact that she’s on the left side on the road.

December 13th – Joe gets Taylor a silver J necklace from Tiffany & Co for her 27th birthday (x)

Taylor’s birthday cake is from The Hummingbird Bakery in London, known for making “authentic American cakes and desserts.” (x)

December 29th– A polaroid of Taylor later included in the rep magazines was taken on this day. Fans later identify that it was taken in a rental house located in Hampstead, London. (x) (x)

The three x’s are referring to the three months they’ve spent together.

December 31st – Taylor and Joe celebrated New Year’s Eve together and threw a party at her rental in London. (x) (x)

[Photos of them getting ready]

The next day, Joe’s friends post photos from the party, and the theme seemingly had something to do with snowman costumes and pink/purple wigs.

A blurry polaroid of Joe and Taylor from this night can be found in the rep magazines.

Another polaroid of all the guys in their snowmen costumes, captioned “New Year’s 2017”

She later talks about this party in song explanations for New Year's Day, at both the reputation iHeartRadio session in 2017 and an AT&T fan event in 2018.

2016 // 2017 // 2018 // 2019 // 2020 // 2021

[natexarnoult]

hey all!! my name is mads and i’m 23, use she/her pronouns, and live in mst! i’m so excited for y’all to meet nathan - he’s a char i’ve had in mind for a while and i’m stoked to finally bring him to life! i’ve included some main points about him under the cut, along with his bio and a couple extras for him - please message me if you’d like to plot :D 

Nathan comes from a single-mother household... at least, until he was in high school.

Nate knows who his father is and is trying to build a relationship w/ the man but is still hurt from his mother hiding his father’s identity & not hiding the truth.

He is very much a ‘trust-fund’ kid but is working hard to distant himself from his parents’ wealth and build a name that isn’t connected to his parents.

Nathan truly is a sweetheart but has a hard time expressing this to those he cares about - he grew up in a home that wasn’t welcoming to affection and is still trying to break this habit.

He’s been in Heartsdale for several years and I’m so open to creating some pre-existing connections with him! Friends, ex friends, exes, enemies - anything! Please just message me so we can chat :)

He graduated from UCLA with an art history degree but is more interested in actually making art than learning about it - he travels a lot as he likes to make his show room diverse and brings in pieces from all around the country.

Nathan lives above his gallery but spends most of his time outside of both his gallery and his apartment - it’s either a midlife crisis and he regrets his choices or he’s just trying to meet new friends, who knows?

His pinterest is here and is constantly being update; please follow me if you feel so inclined!

Annnnnd: bio here as well:

Nate’s parents met while his father was on a school trip. A senior studying art history at Harvard, he’d taken the trip as an excuse to ‘see the world’ - if that world meant England, sure. His mother was the manager at a museum they visited on the trip & his father found himself returning to her canvas filled institute daily. They spent hours talking, sharing their love of paintings and critiquing some of the pieces her museum had chosen to display. Neither of them wanted to admit that their time together would be coming to a close - his trip was only for 3 weeks over the winter holidays - but on his last day in the country, Nathan’s father left a note within her bedside drawer, his address and phone number scrawled sloppily across a spare receipt & he snuck out before the sun was up. Saying goodbye would be too hard.

He returned to the States. He graduated. He got a job. He went years without hearing from the woman he’d met. One day, when his father was leaving The Met - he’d become a director of programs - his eye landed on a woman who looked so familiar, her hand clutched by a child, no older than 10. That moment was Nate’s first memory of his dad.

He remembers sitting in his dad’s house, a wide and bright space that was 20 minutes from where they’d met on those huge steps. This man had given them a ride and was now setting tea in front of his mother, but Nate was playing with his dog. He remembers snippets of the conversation - his mom was apologizing a lot. Apparently she hadn’t wanted to see him. They were in the States to visit her sister, Nate’s aunt. He remembers that this man kept looking between his mom and him & he looked so confused. Finally, he remembers a silence falling over the room and the man asked a question. Nate couldn’t make it out but his mother’s response was clear, definite; “Yes. He’s yours.”

At the time, Nate had no idea what that meant. He hadn’t yet been given the talk and his mother didn’t explain her relationship to this man. She introduced him - Nathan couldn’t remember his name - and said that he was an old friend from college. But soon, he found himself with this man more often. His mother invited him to join them at his aunt’s birthday party. When they flew back home to England, his mother would often be stuck on the phone with her old friend from college. One day, a year or so after their New York trip, his mother was picking him up from school, nervously pressing her thumb nail into the steering wheel. She asked if he remembered her friend from college, the one they’d seen while in New York. Nate did. She asked if he’d like to take another trip to New York to see his aunt, to see her old friend from college & maybe stay longer this time - like maybe the whole summer holidays?

They stayed the whole summer and when fall came around and it was time for Nathan and his mother to return home, he was sad - he was going to miss his aunt, he was going to miss the excitement of living Stateside. The rest of his year was almost a blur - his school year went by relatively painlessly, though he had begun to feel the hurt of being one of the only brown kids in school - and eventually spring had returned. His mom, again, sat him down and began asking questions. Eventually, and now Nate was smart enough to see where this was going from the start, she asked Nate how he would feel about moving to the States, about living with his aunt for a while. The move itself was quick and before he knew it, Nate and his mother settled in the States. He spent his days at school and his afternoons in extracurriculars - his new school had an art program that Nate was excelling in. They spent nights hanging out with his aunt or his mom’s college friend and for the first time in his young life, Nate felt comfortable. His mom’s friend had begun taking him to the museums, explaining the complexities of the canvas hanging on the walls and asking for his opinion on the work.

When Nate was about halfway through his junior year of high school, his mother and her college friend were both in the car when he was picked up from school. It wasn’t entirely all that weird - he wasn’t dumb enough to think that they weren’t dating, but Nate did always wonder why his mother never broached the subject with him. It’s not like he was a little kid anymore, for fuck’s sake - if your kid is old enough to date, they’re old enough to know who you’re dating. Nate probably couldn’t tell you the rest of what happened that day. He remembered getting home and grabbing a snack, as he always does, and he remembered getting told to sit down by his mother, that she had something important to tell him.

Nate’s life split into the before and the now - before Stephen was his father & now. While typically a rather well-mannered teenager, Nate was furious. Sure, his mom didn’t have to disclose her love life if she didn’t want to, but to know that Stephen was his That they’d known since the start and never told him? He thought back to their first visit to New York, when they ran into Stephen on the steps of the Met - he remembered his mom was surprised, thrown off her guard, but never uncomfortable, never not wanting to be around this man.

He slammed the door on his way out of the house, hopping on his bike and riding off. That night was the first night he ever acted out - Nate made it to his friend’s place out in the suburbs and snuck in their basement window. The rest of his friends, along with a couple girls he knew from his English Lit class, were circled around a small table, upon which sat a small tray & a bong. Nate welcomed the small act of rebellion, in the face of such shocking news, & spent his night testing his limits.

His parents, as he now so affectionately referred to them as, soon regretted telling Nate at such a volatile age. He soon spent all his evenings with his friends, sneaking into the house after midnight (if he’s early) and going straight up to his room. They tried not to push it and Nate was torn between appreciating being left alone and pissed that no one cared how he felt. His mom had tried to address it a couple times but Nate always shut down, refusing to give her more than a two word response.

It went on like that for 2 years, silence, short answers, tension. At 18, Nathan found himself going off to college, moving across the country to attend UCLA. He lived off his parents money, figuring the least they could do after years of absconding from the truth. And he lived lavishly - drinks on him every time his friends went to the bars, new clothes, new shoes, everything he could want.

He graduated with minimal rule infractions, an MIP here, possession of controlled substance there. But his parents always paid for a lawyer, flew out for the week and handled everything for him. After college, Nathan bounced around for a year, spent a couple months in LA, three in New York, and another 6 or so in a van his parents had financed, driving around the US.

Six months on the road proved to be exhausting, however, and Nathan found himself back in one of his first stops at the start of his trip, Heartsdale. It wasn’t long before he signed a lease on an apartment downtown and spent his days as a barista at Legal Grounds. He didn’t necessarily need the job - his parents still financed his whole life - but it was nice to have something to meet people in town. After a while, however, being a barista became boring. Nate spent his time admiring the local work they had pinned for sale on their walls, admiring the fine line work and critiquing in the way he’d spent four year training to do. On a walk, he found himself fantasizing about owning his own gallery, having his space to curate an experience. Nate’s eyes caught on every single ‘For Lease’ sign downtown, pausing and forcing himself not to take a peek inside. It wasn’t reasonable, he told himself. Irrational, at best. He had no experience managing anything, no experience building something from nothing.

And yet… he couldn’t help. One brisk morning, the sun was bright against a For Lease sign, practically screaming the numbers at him. His fingers were typing the numbers into his phone before he even realized what he was doing. It was 4:23am, the downside of an opening shift at a coffee shop, and he wasn’t expecting anyone to pick up anyway. “Morning, uh,” he paused - was he really doing this? “My name is Nate Arnoult and I’m interested in the space you’ve got on 1st and..”

Moving in was quick, it only took 6 months before Nathan settled in the space above the retail spot. He spent his first night with his friends, drinking and dancing. His friends, just as ecstatic as he,  commended him - Nate had been hemming & hawing about opening a gallery space for months and to finally have a space, a place to start… Nathan was on cloud nine. And it went better than he thought it did. The art scene extended out of his small town and he was able to show pieces from all over Georgia. He even flew out to other states, offered small artists a space in his show room.  The rest, he supposed, is history. He’s been living a comfortable life and still maintains contact with his parents, despite their rocky past - not friendly, but not fatal either.

[captaindodson]

7AM confessions (t.h oneshot)

Synopsis: You just finished working a graveyard shift at your summer job. Just as you’re about to get into your car to leave to sleep the weekend away, a familiar face appears to confront you on what happened. 

Paring: Tom Holland x Gender Neutral!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k+ 

Warnings: Angsty (?), Swearings??

Once your apple watch displayed 7 AM you knew the long week you had was finally over. The assembly line filled with car parts ready for inspection remain still and untouched as everyone switches off with the next group of shift workers who are already coming onto the floor. Luckly, its Friday, so you get to sleep the weekend away and reset your sleep schedule for your last week of shifts before the fall semester starts. You tidy up your small station and when you think you’ve done enough you turn around to leave and then you see your co-worker/work friend Raj approaching. You both wear matching white hard hats, blue gloves, white jackets, dark blue work pants, and brown steal toed boots.

“Hey, how was this morning,” Raj stops a few feet away and raises his hand to fist bump and you happily reciprocate before sliding your hands into your jacket pockets.

“It wasn’t a bad night, Lauren didn’t come in tonight cause she was sick with a stomach bug. Oh I did finally registered for my university courses during my break, and I got so lucky with my extra circulars.The moment I went to register there was only one spot left for the ones I wanted.”

Raj just nods and glances around the work station, inspecting to see you cleaned it to his standard. You notice his wandering eyes but you aren’t bothered by it. You’ve been in that position where you have to work a long eight hours on your feet and the person before you at your assigned station leaves it a mess and you’re stuck cleaning it for the first hour of your shift. So after he finishes inspecting he meets your eyes and nods in approval.

“Oh shit really? I should probably do that sooner rather than later. I’ve been going to university for three years and I almost always forget every time  to register on time,” He replies.

“Don’t you have your final research seminar and reading seminar this year? I thought certain classes had a small capacity?”

“Oh. Well guess what I’m doing during my lunch break,”

You lightly laugh at him as the sound of a warning buzzer echoing through the factory floor goes off. You look around and see that most, if not all of your night shift people are already off the floor and you take this as your cue to leave.

“Anyway, talk to you later Raj,” he gives you small smile in response and steps around you to get started. You make your way off the floor and to your designated locker, providing some of the people from dayshift a warm smile as you walk past them.

You walk through a pair of white double doors which leads into a a bright baby blue hallway which eventually guides you to where the designated bathrooms are with the lockers. When you get to the end of the hall you turn left and head into the female washroom where the you’re met with an empty room. Usually, when everyone’s shift ends they’re rushing to get out (and you’re no exception). You would normally find yourself squeezing by people and dodging elbows trying to get to your locker but today is different. Staying behind for an extra few minutes to talk actually lets you take your time for once. By taking your time it also means the parking lot won’t be backed up as usual and you can drive home without any major delay to sleep your weekend away. That’s the only thing you have to look foreward to, your bed because there is no one at home, no roomates, no pets, no boyfriends, no nothing. The place you were at two months ago was totally different from where you are now. You lived abroad in London with your then boyfriend for six months until you broke it off because you were lost. 

You had to get out because your identity slowly became tightly intertwined with the person you were with. Everything revolved around them and their job and you were going no where in life. Your dreams were pushed to the back of your mind as you stayed in fancy hotel suites, alone waiting for your ex-boyfriend to come back from an exhausted day on set to only desperately try to keep his eyes open when you two watched a movie or went out for a night on the town.

He really did try his best to make your time with him exciting even if he was burn out from working all day. He made small dates in your hotel room feel magical. He had your hotel room decorated in fairy lights and planned a romantic dinner looking over the city you two stayed in. He made love to you in the early hours of the morning to the organy rays of the morning sun. Or another time, when he wasn’t allowed to leave the hotel at all, he took you to the hotel roof to slow dance under the stars to music playing from that headphones you two shared. You’d pay a million dollars to experience these small moments over and over again.

Over a weekend back in London by yourself while Tom had to catch a flight last minute to do film re-shoots in LA, you decided to have a self-care night.  After lighting some candles, ordering take-out, dimming the lights, and scrolling through Netflix to finally find a good-feel show, you finally sit comfortably on the couch and relax. You found a generic rom-com from the 2000’s that looked mildly interesting and even if the plot wasn’t any good you could still get a good laugh about it.

As the movie progresses and the main character struggles to choose between a boy and her dream job you find your mind slowly loosing focus with what is happening on the screen and  reflecting it back into your own life. After a few seconds pondering you realize something,  had no idea what you wanted to do. You were in your early twenties, you were doing school part-time online with a program you liked but you spent most of your time with Tom. Traveling to country to country to join him while he filmed, staying in hotel rooms waiting for him, sometime visiting set when you were allowed too, it was truly an exciting and calming lifestyle.

Even though you believed you finally found the guy that you could spend the rest of your life with, a second family you got along with, a place you could see yourself settling down in, you didn’t have anything for yourself. When you thought you of trying to return to in-class schooling with a larger course load and renting a place for the semester and trying to sustain a long-distant relationship with someone in the limelight, it just stressed you out. You knew it wouldn’t be easy and just seeing how deflated Tom looked when he returned to you after working, you knew the relationship would push him to his limits.

Even after initiate moments you realized how tired and over worked he was. The look in his eyes when he had to leave for work the next morning couldn’t go unnoticed.  You felt your heart squeezing itself and your breathing became heavier. You would never want to cause Tom any pain on your behalf, and you can’t continue to drag your feet with your education because you felt like you . So, you did what you did best, shut someone out and leave. You made up lie about how this relationship wasn’t working on your end, broke it off and flew back to the town where you had been attending school online. Scrambling enough money together to buy a used car and a small studio apartment and apply to as many jobs as you could. You got lucky, that when you were applying that a car factory needed more summer students and they were paying their workers a decent living wage and you just jumped on it. The job helped you get settled but it also helped ignore the small amount of regret you felt. It is too late to turn around now and now you must live with your choices. 

You shake yourself out of a daze you didn’t realize clouded your mind, and it seems your feet have carried you to the front of your small grey locker. It looks like what all typical high school lockers look except half the size. You raise your hand to the lock to do one full twist to the right, one full twist to the left, and half a twist to the right again and my the lock pops off with a light pull.

You reach in to collect your phone, black spring jacket, dark blue water bottle, then you reach into your jacket pocket to fish out your car keys. You hum in satisfaction when you feel the cool metal of your keys in your pocket. You drape your jacket over your arm as you shut the locker quietly and slide the lock over the hook and push it shut. You proceed to continue to follow the baby blue hallways until you’ve reached the double glass doors of the exit. You push open the glass door and is met with a cool morning breeze also paired with a peach colored sky.

You make your way across the concrete of the parking lot, following the line of different coloured cars parked next to each other, eyes wandering at the different licence plates, soaking up the calmness of the morning sun until you stop dead in your tracks. You look up to see someone leaning on the hood of your car. This person is dressed in some blue jeans, a black hoodie, dark red hat, and it seems they’re just casually looking down and scrolling through their phone unaware of your presence a couple feet away. You think for a minute before speaking, should you just walk back inside and get someone to confront this guy or should you just do it yourself? I mean it is your car in a private parking lot, someone will hear you scream right? After a few seconds go by you just say fuck as the longer you stand here the less time you get to spend sleeping. 

“Ah hem, excuse me you’re leaning on my car. Can you please get off,”

You keep your distance and tightly grip your waterbottle. Just so you have a head start if you need run back into the factory or even defend yourself. Their fingers stop scrolling, but their gaze is still facing downwards, hood and hat hiding their features.

“Uh hello, you need to get out of this parking lot its a private. Ill call security if you don’t move, ”

You shallow nervously as the figure stays still, unresponsive. When it seems like this figure is just going to continue to ignore you they stand up abruptly causing you to jump.

“Hi Y/N,’ An english accent comes out from the hood and your expression changes from fear to dread in seconds. Heart still pumping fast in your chest and you feel yourself getting even more nervous. 

“What are you doing here, Tom”, You cross your arms the best you can and start staring at your feet to avoid eye contact.

“Can’t I come visit my girlfriend after she finishes work,” Tom questions as his foots steps get louder as they get closer.

“I am not your girlfriend remember.  Besides the point, how do you even know where to find me. I haven’t talked to you in two months.”

‘You left without a much of explanation. You said when I came home from LA that this was over because you couldn’t handle this relationship, it stressed you out to much. I thought everything was going good mutually good in all aspects of the relationship, but I guess I was wrong. After months of trying to unravel what I could have possible done wrong, I just had to find you and get the truth of why you left,”

He ignores your question as he bends his knees to try and get a look at your face. Your mind almost speeds up, unable to come up with a good enough half-assed response, you mouth blurts out the truth without much thought.

“I love that you’re able to pursue your dreams, and god Tom I wouldn’t want you to do anything to compromise that. But I want to be able to pursue my dreams too Tom. The only way I can do that is if I leave and doing a long-distant relationship hardly ever works out for anybody! I don’t want you wearing yourself out because of me and being long-distance was going to tear you apart,”

You sniffle away the tears building up in your eyes while focusing on the curves on the concrete.

“Darling, why didn’t you just talk to me? I would and do understand if you want to pursue something on your own. I would never want to settle for anything less.  “

He reaches out a finger to find a place under your chin to lift your head gently so your eyes will meet. You glossy eyes meet his soft, gentle brown eyes and that alone makes you want to cry. You never meant to cause pain to reach those eyes, you just thought you were doing yourselves a favour.

“Baby, we could’ve done this together you know that. We would’ve never survived our first year together if we didn’t talk stuff out. Trying to make a relationship work with a person I’ve loved since our first date is worth the endless amount of stress life causes. Y/N, my darling, I would do anything to make you happy but also stay in my arms forever,”

His soft tone makes your knees weak and that is when the dam of tears breaks from your eyes and they flow down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I-I just thought I was doing the right thing for both of us. I was watching a movie and I started stressing my sell-out and just thinking for myself .I’m sorry I put you through this, I know I can’t turn back time, but please forgive me for causing you any pain because my love for you got me all fucked up, “ You say trying wipe away the salty tears dripping down your face. 

“I’m not mad nor am I upset with you. I’m just glad I can have you back in my life again.”

Tom smiles even bright as he pulls lightly on the hand he has a hold of to drag your body over to his. He embraces you into his warmth and your body curls into him and all you can think is there is no place you’d rather be.

“Now, why don’t we go back to your place and catch up on some sleep huh? Then you can give me tour around your new place and make up for lost time,”

He hums into your hair as you pull back from his embrace to look up, wiping your eyes with your sleeve to look at Tom more clearly.

“Yeah, I’d like that”.

[freedom-shamrock]

Speaking on My Behalf

Also over on AO3

@saijspellhart allowed me to take this delightful idea and run with it, so here we are.  Go team!

Chapter One

"All right," Marinette said, handing Adrien the steaming mug. "One Cheng family, top secret laryngitis treatment. Careful, it's hot." She could smell the fresh lemon juice as it wafted in her face.

Adrien snorted ruefully, grasping the mug carefully before slumping back into the couch.

"He says, thank you," Plagg offered helpfully from his place sprawled in his holder's ultra messy bed head.

Adrien smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I'm just sorry I can't do more to help you," Marinette said, feeling bad. This was his first real illness since they'd decided it made more sense for Chat Noir and Ladybug to share an apartment. It would limit the risk of anyone else figuring out their identities the way they had.  The miraculous were excellent for preventing colds and illness, but apparently they didn't really impact allergies. The warm spring had been brutal on her partner and close friend. Tikki would point out that he was also Marinette's first and only love (or strongly imply it in her look and point it out once they were alone together), but she was asleep in her nest in Marinette's room.

Adrien shook his head and waved one hand as if to push her worry away.

"There's only so much even you can do, Buggy," Plagg offered. "He gets that."

Adrien vigorously nodded his agreement with his kwami.

"And to be fully honest," the black cat of destruction continued, "he wouldn't have gotten half this kind of treatment back at the mansion." His face squished up in a way that Marinette had come to learn was disgust. "His schedule would've been cleared, partly anyway, and he'd be abandoned in that compensation-chamber-of-shitty-parenting that his father called a bedroom."

Adrien frowned, looking petulant while he made indignant shushing noises at his kwami.

Marinette moved closer, scooping up the book and laptop from the ottoman near the couch, so she could take a seat there. She'd always felt Gabriel's cold nature ran into neglectful, if not full-on abusive, territory, but Adrien was quick to change the subject when things got too close to discussing his family life. "Nathalie doesn't have much of a bedside manner, huh?"

Adrien rolled his eyes. It was amazing just what he could express without his voice, and it was no wonder he was loving the acting classes he'd snuck into his schedule.

"Well you don't live there anymore, and we Dupain-Cheng folk do not believe in allowing those who are ill or uncomfortable suffer alone." She reached out to run her fingertips over his cheek, pleased when he closed his eyes and hummed happily. "I'll be checking on you regularly, and I won't be any farther away than the other room, so just send Plagg if you need anything, okay?"

His gorgeous green eyes fluttered open and he gazed softly at her.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg agreed, his voice a jarring break in the gentle moment. "I'll come get you if he needs anything."

She'd brought work home from the La Fleur Fashions, the design house she'd joined before she even finished school. It was a small and highly exclusive house focused on women's evening wear, and while that was a bit limiting for her tastes, it paid well, and she enjoyed what she was doing. She'd made sure her contract allowed her to create her own  designs so long as they weren't competing for the same market, for her online boutique. Lucky Bug provided mostly one-of-a kind or commission pieces, including daywear and menswear. "Are you sure you don't want me to bring my work in here?" she asked for what had to be the fifth time.

Adrien's forehead scrunched up as he let out a huff.

"He would like to remind you that he's spent most of his twenty-three years coping on his own when he's ill," Plagg offered.

Adrien's eyes shot up as if he could see his kwami through his skull.

"He'll just feel guilty if you come out here," Plagg added. "No one has the whole guilt thing down like my kitten."

"Don't I know it," Marinette muttered, letting out a sigh and ignoring Adrien's indignant expression. "I promise, I'm happy to be here if it gives you any comfort, but I'm also not going to push. I definitely don't want you to feel more guilty about things that are basic human needs." That had been the first thing they'd had a serious talk about after moving in together.  He was constantly apologizing and trying to avoid being a nuisance.  "You are my best friend in the whole world," she insisted, brushing her thumb down his cheek.

"Ooooh," Plagg purred. "Better than Alya?"

"No contest," she replied, delighted by his response.

He closed his eyes and melted against her hand.

"I am always here for you," she promised. More than anything else in the world, he needed people who cared for him unconditionally, people who wouldn't turn their backs on him and leave him to languish in loneliness.

⁂

Adrien snapped his laptop closed. He was bored out of his mind and while he should have been happy to binge on Netflix, he was stupidly restless. The bright spots in his day had all involved Marinette, dear sweet Marinette, doting on him. He'd woken with a terrible sore throat from his allergies. He'd been able to easily identify it by the distinct characteristic that it felt like he'd tried to swallow a cactus (which he'd actually done once as Chat Noir, and would not recommend). His room mate, super partner, and all around best friend had been more kind to him in the first ten minutes than his father and Nathalie had been, combined, for all his sick days ever. His throat already felt better, but his voice would be gone for at least the rest of the day, but probably longer.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth and gently poked at Plagg, hoping to go for a run.

"No," Plagg grumbled. "We are not going out as Chat Noir today unless there's an akuma." His words were accompanied by tiny feet stomping on Adrien's head. "The Guardian wants you to rest."

Adrien's groan came out as more of a whine thanks to his irritated vocal cords.

"I get that you're fidgety, Kid," Plagg sounded a touch more compassionate. "But she's the boss, and she's right."

Adrien pouted. It was incredibly unfair that his kwami was so affectionate toward Marinette, yielding to her requests with no need of bribery. His frustration was disrupted by a delighted squeal from Marinette's room.

"Woo hoo!" She sounded giddy, and like she was trying to keep her enthusiasm toned down.

Adrien grinned. She was probably doing that full body wiggle that she did when she was super happy and excited. He opened his mouth to call to her, then remembered he couldn't.

"What are you celebrating in there, Pigtails?" Plagg called. He had almost as many nicknames for Marinette as Adrien did.

"This new dress is so awesome," Marinette replied. "I love it when I nail it on one of these. Monique is gonna love this one."

Adrien snorted. Monique loved pretty much all of Marinette's designs. It hadn't escaped his notice that the head designer and founder of La Fleur was asking more and more of her junior employee. She was clearly coming to Marinette when the stakes were highest, though being the humble person she was, Marinette hadn't noticed this herself.

Adrien waved his hand above his head, frantically trying to get Plagg's attention. He wanted to see that dress. He loved it when Marinette gave him his own private fashion shows. They were his own guilty pleasure, and admittedly featured strongly in his daydreams.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg muttered. "Hold your horses, Kid." He raised his voice to reach Marinette. "We get to see it, right?"

Marinette's head popped out from the tiny hall toward her bedroom. "You really want to see it?"

She looked so happy, and Adrien felt blessed having her bright eyes so intensely focused on him. He vigorously nodded, cupping his hands together in silent plea.

"It would be rude to leave us hanging," Plagg added.

She disappeared with a giggle. "Okay.  Just a minute."

Adrien settled back into the couch, grinning like an idiot and vigorously rubbing his forearms to shed some of his excess energy. A new evening dress. He wondered if it would be cute or elegant, or something else entirely. Since they'd been living together he'd seen her create the gamut of evening dresses, from sweet things for teen starlets, to flirty numbers, to luxurious and sophisticated pieces sought by A-listers. And what color might it be? She'd done everything, though she preferred not to go with black unless it had accents because she felt there tended to be too much weight on basic black. The people wearing her works of art were guaranteed to stand out.

He tried not to pay attention to the sounds of zippers and the swishing of fabric. He was a model for goodness' sake. He could handle having a gorgeous woman change nearby without blowing a gasket.

"These shoes aren't quite right," Marinette cautioned, breaking him out of his little spiral.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg replied. "It's all about the dress. We got it, Princess."

Adrien couldn't hold back the hiss when his kwami dared use his personal nickname for her.

Plagg merely snickered as he floated off Adrien's hair to land on the back of the couch.

Adrien scowled and batted Plagg off his perch. His death glare seemed to have no effect on the cackling little beast. He felt himself gathering for a pounce when the sound of heels on the wood floor announced Marinette's impending arrival. Freezing, he curled his lip one last time in warning before slowly and intentionally easing himself back into his reclined position.

Marinette sauntered into the room, treating it as her own personal runway. Sashay, sashay. Pause and pose. Quarter turn, pose. He could practically hear the drill he'd walked her through when he'd taught her runway basics. She may not have had real training, because his tutoring had hardly been anything, but she totally killed it, and Adrien was pretty sure his soul left his body the moment he got a good look at her.

The dress was a stunning sleeveless number in a magenta to midnight blue ombre with an overlay of tulle to give the fabric depth and movement without too much weight. The neckline dropped into a gorgeous V ending at her sternum. The skirting had a slit at the front that crept high enough to flash pretty much all over her amazingly toned leg.

She moved to her final pose, directly in front of him, a sultry little smirk on her lips. It was a good thing he was already sitting down, because the wink she threw him would have definitely killed him. She was so amazingly beautiful and talented. Even if his voice had been working, he would have had no words for her now.

After a moment, she relaxed her pose, giggling as she looked down at the dress. "I have to say, this is one of my best."

Adrien nodded vigorously in agreement..

She let out a happy sigh. "What do you think?"

Adrien opened his mouth for a moment, but found himself shutting it again with a little head shake. He still didn't have words, even ones he could silently mouth to her.

"NettieBug," Plagg said smoothly, darting up to float in front of her. "I can answer honestly for the Kid here when I tell you that you're hot as fuck."

⁂

I suspect this will need one more chapter to be truly satisfying.

Apologies for being so absent. I'm still herding kids and managing the household while we are all safe at home for a few more weeks (I can not wait for school to end!). I'm trying to fit in writing where I can, but often don't have the energy.

⁂

Check out Chapter Two >>>

[wastelandcth]

Do you think you could write something about the reader and Cal hanging as a couple with the band and their gals in their early stages of dating? Maybe the boys and gals are protective of him but also they haven’t seen him in a relationship in so long so it’s so cute seeing him actually be a lovey dovey type with this girl and just seeing her get along with everyone so well 😭😭😭 maybe like a progression of them starting to date to like the future where the girls are bffs and they all hang idk!

this was a cute idea! hope you enjoy! 💓

Mini Golf

When she had suggested mini-golf, Calum knew that his bandmates were going to like her almost as much as he did. Bringing the idea up the guys at the studio one day, they could sense how nervous he was for them to meet her. He wanted them to like her, he'd never wanted anything more in his life. She made him happy like no one else had ever made him feel. Sure, they'd only been dating for around four months, but Calum knew she was different than his past girlfriends. She was kind and full of joy, she was a warm spring day that Calum couldn't get enough of.

The drive to the mini-golf spot was spent singing along to a playlist Calum had found a few nights before, full of throwback songs that reminded both of them of late nights and growing up. As they got closer, Calum couldn't help but feel nervous, he wanted his best friends to like her. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if they didn't, maybe he could find an emergency exit and hide away from them for a while. Her hand on his thigh brought him back to reality, his eyes glancing over at her and relaxing as she saw her smile.

"You okay, Cal?" she asked softly, her thumb tracing a small circle into the fabric of his blue jeans. She looked beautiful in the golden light the LA sunset brought upon her skin, it calmed him down, the silkiness of her voice making his grip on the steering wheel loosen up. "We could always ditch your friends and go buy ice cream instead." she teased him as they pulled into the parking lot, her seatbelt unclicking as she moved to open the door.

Calum was in awe of her, he knew she was nervous about this, she'd told him a couple of days before that she'd spent all day looking for the best spot in the city so that his friends would like her. Now that the day had arrived, she was acting way calmer and collected than Calum would even pretend he was. His palms were sweaty and the pit of his stomach was tense as they walked into the building filled with neon signs. His head turned as he heard his name being called, his gaze meeting Ashton and the rest of his bandmates and their partners who were stood around Michael who was playing a very competitive game of Street Fighter.

After an intense interrogation, in which Ashton and Sierra almost threatened her life is she ever hurt Calum, they were all suited up for mini-golf. Each one with a different colored ball and stick to start off the night of fun. Calum was glad she didn't seem too phased by his friends and their prying questions, he didn't think that being scared away the first time they met was a good step forward in a relationship. But when she playfully bullied Luke into picking a different colored ball because she had clearly called dibs on the bright orange one, everyone knew she'd fit right in. After a few drinks and a few holes, everyone was laughing and the first meeting jitters were a thing of the past.

They guys had never seen Calum act this way before. He had always thought that love was useless and that he would be alone forever but as they watched him with his arms around her as he showed her the best way to hit the mini-golf ball into the hole, they couldn't help but notice something was different about him. The way his voice was soft around her, an ever-present smile on his face as he listened to her answer the thousands of questions they all seemed to be asking her. The couldn't help but notice that his hand was always in hers or on the small of her back, except when it was her turn to go, and even then he couldn't help but keep his gaze on her, his eyes bright with affection. They also couldn't help but laugh when she managed to beat Calum by one point and had to kiss his sadness away, the blush on Calum's cheek present as they all went back to the bar for a couple more drinks.

Looking back over his shoulder as he waited for their drinks to be ready, Calum saw Ashton and her cheering as Luke finally guessed a character from a show on Heads Up. All three of them high fiving as they laughed together. It helped soothe Calum's nerves, they knew they were protective over him, his last relationship hadn't ended in the most friendly ways so they were reluctant to meet her. But watching them all get along, Calum couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as he joined them, his arm wrapping around her shoulder after he had handed Luke his beer, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head. And as they both said goodbye to the group for the night, Calum couldn't help but overhear the girls make plans for next week to go out to a theme park all four of them had been dying to go to, it was then when he realized that he had nothing to worry about. And a few weeks later when Calum had called her expecting her to be at her apartment, he couldn't help but laugh as she picked up and told him she was busy hanging out with the girls at the zoo but she promised to bring him back a stuffed lion to make up for it.

[captainscanadian]

Hope | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 2)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Confrontations. 

Word Count: 3000+

Pairing: (Eventual) Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Patient!Reader, Rebecca Barnes x OFC Rosie Bender

Warnings: Heartbreak, Bullying, Alcohol 

A/N: This fic was my entry for @wkemeup​‘s 4K Writing Challenge. I DON’T DO TAGLISTS!

Old man Nick had been kind enough to let you borrow his truck so that you could head into town and run some errands, which you had certainly been grateful for. Despite the fact that you used to despise your hometown for the horrible memories it came with, you could not deny that there were some good people here - like Nick Fury, and Thor from the hardware store who had given you a discount on the hammer that you bought from him. 

Running into Rebecca Barnes while you were picking out the paint for your bedroom wall had not been a part of your plan. If you could have had it your way, you would have made yourself invisible the moment you saw her. But as a wise man named Harry Nelson once said, superpowers were unrealistic for a reason and real people must face real consequences in their stories. 

You knew that some people could certainly not be avoided, considering that most people you knew as a kid still remained in Shelbyville. Some people remembered you, some people didn’t, and it was meant to be that way. You hadn’t come back here to reconnect with old friends or make new ones for that matter. Your goal was to finish the book, and home improvement was just a bonus project that you had taken up while you were here. 

Once you finished this novel of yours, you could just head back to your life in LA and figure out what was next for you. Hopefully, if the fourth book is just as successful as it’s three predecessors, you could finally sign off the movie rights to Harry and work together on the adapted screenplay. Friends with benefits or not, you could not deny that the two of you worked very well together as creative partners. 

As for your childhood bedroom, you had taken down the old bulletin board and the outdated posters of the Jonas Brothers from the walls. You found yourself draping the remaining furniture in the drop cloth that you had picked up from the hardware store yesterday. Not that you cared all that much about ruining the old single bed and oakwood desk with all of that paint; you could certainly afford to buy some new furniture for the house once you finished with your little renovation. 

But a part of you was still a sentimental idiot who hoped to cherish the memories of your countless study dates in this room with a certain someone. As much as you hated the thought of him, you could not deny that he was still a significant part of your childhood. Cherish the good memories, but hold a grudge against him for the bad ones. It was not the best way to live, but it was still your way. 

Besides, if Hope Anderson was covering up her furniture when she was painting her house, then so were you. 

“Bucky, I’m really starting to feel like you’re thinking way too much about this.” Rosie called out to her girlfriend’s brother, who was pacing back and forth in his childhood friend’s front lawn. 

Her goal had been to stop by the caterer’s that morning to start figuring out the menu for the high school reunion that she was meant to plan. But when Bucky had asked her to give him a ride to your place on their way back, she found herself parked in front of your house for way longer than she would have wanted. With her windows rolled down, she stared out at her friend in utter disappointment. 

 “You’ve come this far, you idiot. What’s stopping you from going up to her door?” 

“But what if she just slams the door in my face?” 

“Then you fucking deserved it for what you did!” She groaned, clearly growing irritated by the way he had been acting ever since Becca had informed the two of them that she had run into you at the hardware store. 

She knew that he had history with you, but she had never asked to be caught up in it. Not back then, and certainly not now. With the way that Bucky was handling himself to the news of your return, all she could do is hope and pray that things did not escalate when he eventually grows a pair and faces you again.

Bucky stopped in his tracks as he looked over at her. “I know, I fucked up. You don’t have to keep saying what I did, okay? I know what I did and I’m not fucking proud of it.”

“You were an idiot, yes. We’ve been through that.” She pointed out with a shrug of her shoulders. “But it’s been ten years, Bucky. We’re adults now and… maybe she’s moved on. Maybe she would let you in.” Truth be told, she doubted that you would. But she had to say it for the sake of comforting her friend. One more minute of watching him pace back and forth would probably drive her insane. 

He let out a sigh as he walked up to her car and leaned against her car window. “Rosie, I just want to fix things between us. She hasn’t been in town in ten years and… I don’t know if I would ever have the chance to see her again. I want to do the right thing now.” 

“I hate to be the one to say it.” She admitted, sighing. “But did you ever think that… maybe it was what you did that might have been the reason why she never came home?” 

It may have crossed his mind a few times that he was the reason why you left. Not that you had ever been subtle about it either; you made it known. It may have crossed his mind when you had left Shelbyville without a goodbye. It may have crossed his mind when your mother had handed him a cardboard box full of the presents he had given you throughout the years, the ones that you had purposely left behind when you moved out. It may have crossed his mind when he had left you several voicemails throughout that summer, checking up on you as he always did, only for you to change your number before you started college.

But he had been so full of hope that you would return one day, and that he could finally recite the apology that he had been rehearsing since you left town. He hoped that you would hear him out, and forgive him for what he had done. He had hoped that you would come home for Thanksgiving that year, and join him and his sisters in making their famous pumpkin pie together. He had hoped that you would come home for Christmas, and that the two of you could build snowmen in his front lawn and put up the tree as you always did. By the time spring break came around, all of his hope had been lost, and he had realized that you weren’t actually coming back. 

Letting out another sigh, Bucky Barnes shook his head. “Oh what was I thinking?” He scolded himself as he got into the car. “Fuck… I can’t do it. I can’t face her.”

“Bucky, come on… what the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

To think that this guy really had her parked out in front of your house for a whole hour, only for him to chicken out like this!

“Just drop me off at The Tavern, please?” He asked her as he leaned back in his seat. “I could use a drink… or two.” 

“It’s only 2 pm, Dr. Barnes.” She reminded him, her eyebrow raised. 

“Bender, please.” 

Rosie let out a sigh of defeat as she started her car. “Oh who am I kidding? Dealing with your stupid ass has really got me needing a drink before 5 pm anyways.” 

You might have stocked your fridge with enough food to last you for the next two weeks, but the lack of alcohol at the house was reason enough for you to step out that evening. Leaving the bright pink paint on the walls of your childhood bedroom to dry, you found yourself hopping back in Nick’s truck and driving towards The Tavern. 

Being back in Shelbyville, Indiana still felt quite surreal to you. There was a certain sense of familiarity that came with being back in your hometown. The house was the same. The neighborhood was the same. The feeling of being home was just the same. 

But you could not deny that things were different too. The city had changed to keep up with the time that had flown by, and the lack of your mother’s presence at the house just didn't feel right. You missed her so much now. Perhaps a part of you would always regret leaving her all alone. But you did fly her out to LA for the holidays and spent as much time with her while she was still alive. All you could do is be grateful for the time that you got to spend with her, even if you hadn’t visited home as much as she would have wanted you to. 

Hope Anderson’s grief was no different from yours, which was probably why her attempt at drinking away her regrets had been crashed by a certain Jason Prescott - her childhood best friend, her first love, her first heartbreak, and her mother’s doctor who had been burdened with giving her the news that her mother was dying. 

Her love for him was the reason why she had broken up with Reid Melendez back in college. The pain that he had caused her was the reason why she realized that the pain that Ethan Sharpe had caused her was nothing in comparison. Even Jake Winston knew that he would never be able to have a place in her heart as her first love. 

As it turns out, having to spend many nights by her dying mother’s bedside had forced her to spend much more time with her former best friend than she had intended. It had allowed her to come to terms with the pain that she had buried deep. It had only been a matter of time before she realized how much she missed her best friend, and she never dared to push him away after that. 

Unbeknownst to you, your story and Hope’s story were much more entwined than you could have ever imagined. Not that you had been expecting to run into James Buchanan Barnes of all people when you entered The Tavern. But the sight of a grown man spitting out his whiskey upon your entrance sure made heads turn. 

You felt your heart pattering against your chest as you came face to face with him, and you could not deny that the years had been kind to him. His chubby cheeks had hollowed and his crooked teeth now straightened; while his hair had grown slightly in length, his bright blue eyes were just the same. 

He looked a decade older, and wiser with age, you hoped. The Bucky Barnes you knew was a seventeen year old bully, who had cared more about being a part of Brock Rumlow’s inner circle than your friendship. But was he still an absolute dickhead? You had no clue. 

You blinked for a moment, wondering if this unfamiliar image of him would fade and be replaced with the plump fifteen year old boy whom you knew as a kid. As though the last ten years had never passed and that your friendship had stood frozen in time. 

As much as you would hate to admit it, you missed him. You missed the guy who had been your best friend. You missed the guy who walked into your home every morning with a cheeky ‘honey, I’m home’ and helped himself to your mother’s famous pancakes while you got dressed. You missed the guy who walked to school with you, skipping through the cracks on the sidewalk and holding each other for balance. You missed the guy who always packed an extra lunch whenever his mother made him these salted caramel spread sandwiches, just because they were your favourite. You missed the guy he used to be, before he had ditched you and began hanging out to Brock Rumlow. 

A part of you wanted to turn away and leave the bar, while another part of you had urged you to step over to his booth and greet him. You could not avoid confronting the past for much longer. A decade has passed, so you might as well put an end to it. 

If not, you were pretty sure that Hope Anderson herself would call you a hypocrite for making her face her past while you walked away from yours. As fictional as she was, you respected her perception of you too much to do anything that she would not approve of. 

Bucky Barnes found himself trembling as he struggled to find the right words to describe how beautiful you looked. You looked a decade older than he remembered, no doubt about that. The way you dressed, it looked rather expensive. A designer peacoat straight out of the movies, and red-bottom heels that seemed way too inappropriate for this cold weather. He could not help but wonder if you were the same Y/N he knew back in high school, even though you did not look the same. 

You looked around The Tavern, greeting a few familiar faces with a smile that seemed rather forced. Not that being a New York Times Best-selling author meant that you got recognized every now and then, but these people seemed to know your mother more than they knew you, and the people of Shelbyville certainly took pride in one of their own making a name for herself in the world of literature. 

As much as Bucky wished to rise from his seat and dash out of The Tavern instead of facing you, he probably had his sister and her girlfriend  to thank for grabbing onto his wrists so that he wouldn’t try to leave. “Becca!” He whined as he looked over at her, his lips curling into a pout. 

“Oh fuck off, James!” She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her beer. “For how long do you think you are going to avoid her when she’s finally back in town for God knows how long?” 

“Come on, Buck.” Rosie gave him a rather stern look, her hand clutched around her beer as she watched you heading towards the bar. “Whether you like it or not, she’s here and I’m pretty sure she just saw that you’re here too. Just get over yourself and talk to her like the grown ass man you are. You’re not seventeen anymore.”

“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me? What if she just throws her drink at me?”

“As I said earlier, then you probably fucking deserve it!”

“I swear to fucking God…” Becca shook her head at her brother. “Just go and fucking talk to her, you idiot!” 

You wanted to avoid making eye contact with him, but you could not help but feel his eyes on you from the moment you had even set foot into this bar. You knew that he was staring at you as though he had seen a ghost, which you probably were, considering your past. But you did not want to return your gaze, for you knew that staring into his eyes for a moment too long would only dig up the emotions you had buried long ago. 

Stalling the confrontation that you knew would come inevitably, you decided that you needed some alcohol in your system in order to prepare for the emotions that would resurface in a matter of time. You watched as the lemon twist swirled around in your drink, and the condensation trickling down the cold glass. 

Looking back at the years when you had been so madly in love with Bucky, you could not deny how stupid you had been back then. Seventeen years old and fucking hormonal, all you had cared for back then was some validation - the ‘I love you too’s and the ‘you’re beautiful’s that girls your age had been desperate to hear from a stupid teenage boy. 

Falling in love with Bucky Barnes had been your biggest regret, not because he had humiliated you when he had found out about your feelings. It was because you had realized that you had been proven wrong about your perception of who he was. You had loved him because you had believed that he would treat you how every girl your age would have dreamt to be treated, only to realize that he was the complete opposite. You were ashamed of your judgement, and that made you fear having to confront him more than anything. You were not willing to admit that you had been wrong about him, even though he was the one who hand treated you wrongly. 

“I’m dreaming, right? I must be.” 

His unfamiliar voice sounded more manly and hoarse, a lot deeper than you remembered. He wasn’t seventeen anymore. But there was still a certain sense of familiarity to it; it was still his voice and you somehow knew that with the way he spoke. 

You took a sip of your drink, taking a moment too long to respond. Your heart continued to pound against your chest as you found yourself turning your head to look at him, finally taking in his sapphire-like eyes; they felt like coming home. 

“You’re full of shit, Barnes.” You remarked, rather coldly. “I know that your sister would have told you that I was back in town.” 

As you said that, you tilted your head to give the younger Barnes a wave. You had nothing against her. 

“I guess I was just not expecting to run into you like this.”

“That makes two of us.” You shrugged, setting down your glass. 

“It’s good to see you though.” 

“Can’t say the same…”