#used to have teeth sundays too but that's on pause until october

[erikahenningsen]

sneak peek friday?

Happy sneak peek Friday everyone!

The competition is significantly less formal than a typical meet, but they still do the standard one-by-one introductions, each jogging onto the floor, smiling and waving at the crowd. When it’s Regina’s turn, she scans the stands as subtly as she can for Cady before spotting her sitting with Shane and Janis.

Regina nearly trips over her own feet when she realizes Cady is wearing her shirt—the NSU Gymnastics one Regina lent to her the last time Cady slept over. She’d forgotten Cady even had it. It does weird things to Regina’s stomach, and she can feel her skin growing hot. She fights to keep it from showing on her face. She catches Cady’s eye, and Cady—

Cady fucking winks at her.

Regina’s never been so grateful to have the attention off of her in her entire life, joining the line of girls who have already been introduced and trying to slow her racing heart, get her focus back. She doesn’t look for her parents, doesn’t want to know where they are until she’s forced to hear her mother’s loud-ass cheering in the middle of her beam routine.

They break for the first rotation. Regina’s team is on vault while the other half of the team goes to bars. For the first time, Regina takes a seat with the other girls who aren’t competing on vault. Rationally, she knows she’s imagining it, but it feels like everyone in the audience is staring at her, whispering about her not competing. She can see the confusion on her parents’ faces without looking at them. Without thinking about it, she looks over at Cady again, who gives her an enthusiastic thumbs-up, completely oblivious to anything being amiss.

For some reason, it makes her feel better.

[laurenairay]

5 Times Erik Johnson Surprised You & 1 Time You Surprised Him - E.Johnson

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Some bad language. Some sexual moments. 

Summary: What it says on the tin, 5 times that Erik Johnson surprises you and 1 time you surprise him - a journey through a relationship!

A/N: This is the longest piece I’ve written in a very long time, and I’ve spent days going over every little detail - I’ve really enjoyed putting it together so I hope you enjoy it too!

~~~

1

“So did you think about it?”

You jumped at the sound of your friend’s voice, shrieking slightly as you spun around to face her.

“Gah, you should wear a bell!” you gasped, clutching your chest.

Mel just laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. How she looked so put together after an hour of vinyasa yoga was beyond you. That’s how the two of you had become friends nearly 2 years ago; you’d met in this same yoga class on a Saturday morning, Mel having asked one week to borrow a hair tie when hers had snapped. You’d chatted in passing from that day on, which graduated into getting smoothies together after class, and then to having coffee, lunch, Sunday brunches, and even wine nights. She was genuinely one of the sweetest people you’d ever met, and was a godsend when you needed girl time.

But for the past couple of weeks, she’d been bugging you with a question.

“Come on Y/N, you promised me you’d think about it!” she pouted.

You rolled your eyes slightly, unable to help but smile at her as you slipped into your jacket.

“I know, I know. I just…”

You bit your bottom lip, hesitating a little.

And why were you hesitating? Because she was trying to set you up on a blind date with one of her husband’s friends. Specifically, one of his teammates. And you did not look like the typical WAG, at least according to the internet.

“Y/N, babe, I’ve told Erik all about you. He’s interested, I promise,” Mel said, smiling even wider, trying to encourage you.

You groaned a little, hanging your head back, making Mel laugh.

“I just don’t get why! I’m not exactly the usual hockey player’s type and you know it,” you frowned, gesturing between the two of you.

And you were right. Where Mel’s hair was blonde and artfully plaited, yours was an absolute mess. Where she was tall, toned and tanned, you were...not. And where she was about to head back to her Saturday of leisure with her husband, you were heading back to your small apartment to finish off more work and do laundry for one. As always.

“Oh my god, Y/N, stop it. You’re a sexy smart accountant with an ass to die for, the kindest heart and you don’t take any shit. Erik is interested, trust me,” Mel insisted, nudging you with her arm as you gathered your gym bags.

You sighed, trying to ignore the warmth that filled you from her words. She really was so sweet.

“Alright, alright, you win. I’ll go on a date with Erik,” you said, smiling at her.

Mel grinned back. “You won’t regret this, I promise!”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said dryly, earning another laugh.

Nearly a week later, Friday night, you were approaching the Italian restaurant that Mel told you to meet Erik at. She’d arranged everything for you, wanting you to have a ‘true blind date’, so all you had to do was show up. And here you were.

“Hi, uh, I’m here for a reservation under Erik Johnson?” you said nervously.

“Ah yes, the other member of your party is already here. Please follow me,”

You let out a shaky breath, smoothing your hands over your navy velvet tea-dress, before walking over to the table you were directed to. Here goes nothing. At least you could potentially get some pasta out of this night, if nothing else. Oh wow. Oh wow. Mel had said Erik was handsome���but damn.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! I’m Erik,”

He stood up and pulled your chair out for you, and you couldn’t help but to blush.

Oh wow. Tall, blonde, broad shoulders, gorgeous and a gentleman? So far, Mel had nailed this.

“Hi,” you murmured back, smiling shyly up at him as he pushed your chair in for you, sitting down as gracefully as you could.

Erik beamed back at you, making your breath catch in your throat. Oh yeah. Mel had definitely nailed this.

A couple of hours later, after great pasta, fantastic wine, and an even better flow of conversation, Erik was walking you to your door. You honestly couldn’t believe how easily the two of you had clicked. As soon as you’d ordered, Erik has started talking, and from there you hadn’t stopped. He was attentive, genuinely seeming to be interested in what you were saying, and he made you laugh as well as making you blush with compliments. It had been…perfect. So much better than you had expected. To be honest, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a date that went this well. Wow.

“What?” Erik asked, smiling down at you.

“Nothing…well, I’m just…surprised,”

“Surprised?” he asked, confused.

You blushed a little. “I haven’t been on a date in a while, let alone a blind date, so I didn’t have very high hopes. But you surprised me,”

Erik smiled widely, making your breath catch in your throat again. Oh wow.

“A good surprise then. I’ll take that,” he said smoothly, winking at you.

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder, earning a nudge back. All too soon, you reached your front door, but you paused outside, looking up at him. It was only early October, so the weather wasn’t too cold, and you were more than happy to linger outside if it meant a few more moments with him.

“I guess this is it then,” you murmured, biting your bottom lip slightly.

Erik smiled at you, but his eyes were serious. “I’m glad Mel set us up – I had a really great evening,”

He had a great evening. He was glad Mel set you up. Even just those simple confessions lit you up inside. Wow.

“Me too. I’m glad I took this chance,” you said softly.

“Do you mind if I take a chance?” Erik said, just as softly.

What?

You stayed silent in confusion, until his hand rose to your cheek, his thumb lightly stroking your cheekbone.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice now as serious as his eyes.

It was all you could to breathe “yes,”

He smiled slightly, leaning his head down and pressing his lips lightly to yours. Oh wow. The kiss stayed soft, and sweet, and slow, but your body rushed with warmth, your hands rising to clutch at his jacket. Erik kissed you again and again and again, each kiss as syrupy sweet as the last, until he pulled away, hand sliding down to clasp yours.

“Wow,” he said, sounding dazed.

“My thoughts exactly,” you blurted.

Oh you absolute dork.

But Erik just smiled, laughing softly. “Can I see you again?”

And you smiled back.

“Yeah, I would like that,”

Mel was getting a bouquet of flowers first thing tomorrow, that was for sure.

~~~~~

2

6 weeks later, and you were still going on dates with Erik. He was honestly the nicest guy you’d ever dated. You weren’t official yet, but over the past six weeks, you’d been on over a dozen dates, fitting lunches and dinners and even fitted a hike in around his roadtrips. You had to admit that it was a bit strange to work around his athlete’s schedule – having the guy you were seeing being away for work for a week at a time wasn’t what you were used to – but it was worth it. It was so worth it.

You’d even mentioned him to your mom, letting her know how lucky you felt to have him in your life, regardless of how early on it was.

Erik was everything you could’ve hoped for. He called you every night he was on the road, just asking about your day, and told you funny stories about his teammates in return. He’d sent you flowers to work after your third date, earning you a lot of compliments and impressed whispers. He’d held your hand, opened doors for you, leant you a sweater when it was cold…he was a complete gentleman. Sure, he had a filthy mouth that made you blush at inopportune moments. Sure, his snoring took some getting used to. And sure, the first time he stayed over and left his fake teeth in your bathroom, it made you jump out of your skin.

You were besotted, not dumb. Nobody was perfect, but Erik sure came close.

And no, the two of you hadn’t been intimate yet, just slept in each other’s arms with a lot of making out. But damn you knew it was going to be good when you did – the chemistry between you was too good not to be. There was no rush though, you knew that the right moment would happen when it happened. And you knew Erik felt the same way, at least if the fire in his eyes was anything to go by.

Today you were meant to be going out for brunch, a rare Sunday off – but you’d woken up with a completely blocked nose, pounding head and a nasty cough. You knew when you couldn’t even keep down a slice of plain toast that you needed to cancel your date, as much as you didn’t want to miss seeing Erik. But there was no way you could see him like this.

 To: Erik

I’m sorry but I’m going to have to cancel.

I think I’ve got the flu.

Sorry x

 It was all you could do to roll over and bury your head under the covers.

In what felt like seconds later, you were woken up by someone knocking on your door. No, pounding on your door. What the hell? You groaned, forcing yourself upright, bracing yourself a little as your head swam with dizziness. But the knocking was still happening and it was so loud and you just wanted it to stop.

“Alright, ‘nuff! ‘m coming,” you yelled, your voice cracking and rasping.

You shuffled over to the door, duvet draped around your shoulders like a pathetic cape, and you wrenched open the door with a glare…only to see Erik.

What the hell?

“What are you doing here?” you mumbled, leaning against the door to keep yourself upright.

Erik’s eyes widened at your appearance and your voice.

“Damn, Y/N, you really do have the flu. Get back to bed!” he said, shocked, herding you back inside your own apartment.

“Told you I did. And I was in bed before you knocked. Why are you here?” you groaned, pulling the duvet tighter around you.

You had not wanted him to see you like this.

“You’re sick, I want to take care of you,” he shrugged, smiling.

That was…sweet. But you couldn’t allow it.

“Erik, I’m not getting you sick too. You need to leave,” you murmured, shaking your head.

But Erik just grinned.

“I’m not going anywhere. If seeing you means I need to take care of you when you’re sick, then that’s what we’re doing today. I want to look after you, Y/N,” he said simply.

How were you supposed to argue with that?

“Erik…”

You trailed off, hesitating.

“Go and take a shower. I’ll put some clean pyjamas outside the bathroom door and when you’re dressed come out and sit on the sofa with me. We’re going to have a lazy movie day and you won’t have to worry about a thing,” Erik announced, hands squeezing your shoulders.

Wow. Just wow.

Erik took in the stunned look on your face and laughed softly, giving you a gentle nudge.

“Go, I’ll be out here when you’re ready,” Erik promised.

Well, no-one was perfect, but you weren’t expecting this. You really were so lucky.

~~~~~

3

There. That was it. That was the dress. You were out shopping on your lunch break; you’d met with Mel quickly ahead of Gabe’s birthday bar crawl tonight, when you realised that you really had nothing that you wanted to wear. In came Mel, suggesting a last-minute shopping trip, and here you were now, in a little boutique not too far from your office.

The dress you were wearing was high-necked, long-sleeved, and knee-length…but it was completely fitted, clinging to you. A beautiful shimmery champagne-coloured bodycon dress. It was nothing that you usually would wear, but there was just something about it that had caught your eye. And you were right. It highlighted everything you loved about your body while still feeling classy, and you just felt amazing in it.

“Mel, I think this is the one!” you called out.

“Come out and show me then!” Mel called back.

So you took a deep breath and opened the dressing room curtain. Mel’s jaw dropped a little, before a big grin lit up her face.

“Oh yes. That’s it, you have to buy it!” Mel squealed, clasping her hands together.

You just bit your lip, glancing over your shoulder into the mirror. It really was a beautiful dress.

“My legs do look pretty great…” you said softly, twisting back and forth.

“And your boobs. And your ass. And your everything. Oh you have to get it Y/N, Erik will just die,” Mel said, laughing.

You couldn’t help but laugh as well. That was true.

“Alright, sold,” you giggled.

If nothing else, Erik would enjoy you trying something different!

You ended up getting ready over at Mel’s, some of the other WAGs joining you too, while Gabe, Erik and the rest of the team went out to a bar first. A glass or two or prosecco, a lot of singing, and one lipstick emergency later, your group of glamourous women was heading into the guys’ second bar to meet them, arriving to a chorus of cheers.

“Oh wow, looks like we need to catch up,” Mel laughed, noticing their tipsy states.

You just laughed at Erik’s flushed cheeks, unbuttoning your jacket as you walked towards him. But when you took it off, you were met with stunned silence from your boyfriend. Oh…did he not like the dress? Maybe you’d been wrong about it after all.

“Holy shit Y/N,” Nate blurted.

Then Sam wolf-whistled, breaking Erik out of his frozen state to punch him in the shoulder, making everyone roar with laughter. Erik stumbled towards you, eyes still wide in disbelief, making you bite your lip nervously.

“Wow. My god, wow. You look amazing” Erik stammered, hands going straight to your waist.

Oh. Good. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding, and smiled up at him.

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Fucking love it. Wow,” Erik grinned.

You just laughed, leaning up to press your lips firmly to his, earning jeers and catcalls as Erik tugged you against his body. You may have been dating for over 12 months now, but his kiss still lit up your body every time. Damn.

“Get a room!” Gabe crowed.

Erik flipped him off, before breaking the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“Drink?” he murmured, gazing down at you.

You nodded, smiling. “Drink,”

A couple of hours later, more than a few drinks down, and you were up at the bar, waiting to get a new round of drinks for the people still at the table who weren’t on the dance floor. Erik had barely left your side all night, his hands seeming to not want to leave your body – not that you were complaining. But now you were standing by yourself, having volunteered your turn.

“Hi there,”

You turned your head in confusion, to see a guy standing next to you, smiling.

“Uh, hi,” you replied, smiling politely.

Were you in the way of his drinks at the bar?

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” the stranger drawled.

Oh jeez. Really?

“I’m out with my boyfriend for a birthday,” you shrugged, being brutally honest.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t let you make friends?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Really?

“Friends? That’s what you’re going with?” you asked dryly, raising your eyebrow.

The guy laughed, grinning.

“Can you blame me?” he said, grin turning to a smirk as he looked you up and down.

Oh, no. That’s just not happening.

But as you squared your shoulders and narrowed your eyes to give him a piece of your mind, you felt a body step up behind you, a warm hand sliding around your waist. You knew these arms anywhere. Erik.

“Thought I’d come up and help you with the drinks, babe. Everything okay?” Erik asked almost-coldly, squeezing your hip a little.

Erik just towered over the guy that had been flirting with you, and you could tell he was balking at your boyfriend’s size. Hah. Serves him right.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just waiting to be served still,” you shrugged, struggling not to laugh.

“Then I’ll wait with you,” Erik shrugged, leaning against the bar, making you fall into his side even more, “So you can leave now, bud,”

Holy shit. The flirty stranger open and closed his mouth, before just walking away.

Erik nodded sharply, as if to say ‘good��.

“Erik!” you giggled, hand coming up to cover your mouth.

“What?” he said, mouth in a surly twist.

Why was he acting like such a caveman?

That’s when it hit you. Erik was jealous. That was…unexpected. He’d never shown any insecurity to you before, not when it came to your relationship. Over the last 12 months, you’d been to plenty of bars and events with him and his friends, and not once had he ever reacted like this to anyone who approached you. What had changed?

“You’re jealous,” you blurted, stunned.

Erik scowled slightly, making you laugh. You turned to face him fully and rested your hand on his chest, looking up at him with a smile, making his scowl soften slightly. He slumped his shoulders a little in shame, a slight flush on his cheeks as he placed both of his hands on your waist again.

“Okay, I’m a little jealous. You look so hot tonight. You look always so hot, but this dress…”

He trailed off, biting his lip. Huh. The dress did it?

Erik noticed the look on your face and pulled you closer towards him.

“Not just the dress. You’re just…glowing tonight, babe. You look incredible and it shows that you feel incredible and…he was looking. He wanted you,” Erik muttered

You just shook your head, smiling slightly.

“Hey, Erik, I don’t care if he was looking or what he wanted. I bought this dress because I like how it looks on me, and I thought you would too. Just you. You’re the guy I’ve been dating for a year. You’re the one whose arms I want around me. You’re the one I’m going home with,” you mused.

Erik smirked, making you roll your eyes.

“Damn right you’re going home with me,” he purred, sliding his hands round your body to rest on your ass.

You blushed as you heard the hooting of his teammates back at your table behind you, batting at his chest as he squeezed his hands cheekily.

“Behave yourself, Johnson” you warned, unable to stop a small smile spreading across your lips.

“Make me, Y/L/N,” he winked.

Challenge accepted.

~~~~~

4

Sunlight streamed through the curtains as you slowly opened your eyes, blinking yourself out of sleep. You stretched your arms out wide to catch the kinks in your back, only to realise that the other side of Erik’s bed was empty. And the sheets were completely cold. What the hell?

You pushed yourself up onto your elbow, trying to puzzle out your confusion. Today was your 2 year anniversary, that’s why you’d stayed over. So where the hell was your boyfriend? It was only after a few moments that you realised you could hear noise coming from downstairs. It wasn’t like Erik to be awake before you, especially not on a Sunday morning when he had a day off. So you crept over to the door, cracking it open silently.

All you could hear was a bit of shuffling, some clinking and some murmuring voices. Kitchen, maybe? And something smelled amazing. Maybe he ordered in breakfast! How thoughtful! Then the voices stopped and you heard footsteps, so you walked back over to Erik’s bed, sitting upright with the pillows behind you. No point pretending you were asleep for whatever he was planning.

And you were right – less than a minute later, Erik pushed open the door, holding a tray in his hands. Whatever was on it had the same amazing smell as downstairs. Erik’s eyes lit up as he realised you were awake, making you smile.

“Happy 2 year anniversary, Y/N,” Erik said softly, smiling back at you.

“Happy anniversary!” you said breathily.

Oh wow.

The tray he laid on the bed had a plate with three huge pancakes on, covered with a mix of berries and syrup. This looked amazing! But did he…

“Did you cook this all yourself?” you asked in disbelief.

Not that Erik couldn’t cook, but he’d never made a sweet breakfast from scratch like this before. As if in admission, he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I might have called my mom for guidance? Like, she was on facetime with me while I made them. But I did make them all myself other than that,” Erik promised.

Holy shit. That was cute and impressive.

“Thank you, Erik. This looks amazing,” you said happily.

What a hell of a surprise.

“I may have eaten as I was going along. Taste testing, you know,” he confessed, making you giggle as his shame-face, “so this is all for you,”

Well then.

To be honest, the breakfast was incredible. The pancakes were fluffy and delicate, and the berries were perfectly sweet, bursting with flavour in your mouth. You did make Erik eat alongside you, feeling awkward just eating by yourself, but he insisted you eat the last blueberry.

“Damn, Erik, that was so good!” you groaned, flopping on your back onto the pillows, “you should cook breakfast more often!”

Erik just laughed, placing the tray on the floor and pushing it back out of the way. You turned your head to face him as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up his hand. Hmm bicep flex. Nice. Erik grinned as your hand reached out to stroke his arm, unable to help yourself, but there was something strange in his expression…

“You could have this all the time if you moved in with me,” Erik said faux-casually, the hope in his eyes betraying him.

Your breath caught in your throat, your hand involuntarily squeezing down on his bicep in shock. Erik smiled down at you for your reaction, but you could see that the smile was nervous. That was a big step. But a good step. And a step you so desperately wanted to take. But…

“You think we’re ready after only two years of dating?” you asked, hesitant.

Erik nodded so vigorously he reminded you of a bobblehead figure, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fuck, yeah, move in with me Y/N. I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you to move in here smoothly but fuck it – I want you to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night. I want to come back from roadtrips and know that you’ll be waiting here for me. I want to make this a home with you,” Erik said seriously.

Oh god. This man was so sweet. How did you get so lucky?

Tears filled your eyes, and Erik froze, until a smile spread across your face.

“Yeah, babe, I’ll move in,” you said happily.

Erik whooped, punching a fist in the air, making you laugh loudly. He rolled on top of you, pressing kisses into your neck, and you shrieked as his stubble scraped across your skin, only fuelling him on further. The quick kisses turned slower, wetter, until he was kissing down your body, only pausing briefly to whip your strap top over your head. His thumbs briefly brushed against your nipples, causing you to whimper, which Erik only smirked at before his kisses continued their path down.

“Happy anniversary to me,” Erik growled, tugging your pyjamas shorts down your legs, helping you kick them off.

You just inhaled sharply as he roughly pushed your legs up to your chest, moving to press kisses from your knee down your inner thigh, until he…

“Erik!”

~~~~~

5

Normandale Lake Park had quickly become one of your favourite places in Bloomington, MN. The first time Erik had taken you there, during the first time he’d introduced you to his parents, you’d fallen in love with the peace and tranquillity of it. So every year now when the two of you visited in the summer, you’d made an effort to spend some time there with him as a tradition of sorts.

And this year was no different.

The two of you had gotten up fairly early, Erik having wanted to have brunch in a little spot by the river that he liked, and had insisted that all you needed to do was get yourself ready. Not that you were complaining. It wasn’t like you were going to say no to Erik spoiling you with breakfast.

Soon enough the two of you were walking towards where Erik wanted to set up the blanket, his mom having sent you out of the door with a thermos of coffee and a huge hug, the biggest smile on her face. You knew she loved how much Erik adored you, especially since you made no effort to hide how much you adored him in return. How could you not? The man you loved was single-handedly setting up a picnic blanket and picnic basket to spend a quiet morning with you. What could get cuter than that?

“I prepared a few things today, I hope that’s okay?” Erik said, a little awkward.

Strange man.

“Of course it is – why would I complain?” you laughed.

Erik snorted. “I know carbs are always a winner with you, but I put together a few other bits too,”

Well now you were intrigued.

You watched as your boyfriend pulled out box after box from the basket, everything from croissants to strawberries to bacon sandwiches, finishing with a bottle of prosecco. What the hell?

“Damn, Erik. What is all this?” you said, slightly shocked.

Not that you didn’t appreciate this incredible spread of food, but it really wasn’t what you and Erik normally did…

“I just…I wanted to do something special. For you. For us,” Erik mumbled.

You just smiled, getting the feeling that he wasn’t quite finished. Erik sighed, laughing softly.

“You always know how to read my mind, don’t you? You know me better than I know myself sometimes. Even from the moment I met you, I knew you were special. And I was right,”

Your breath caught in your throat as Erik trailed off, reaching out to hold your hand, and your heart started beating even faster. Was he really…

“I know that I’m not perfect, and I know that I have flaws. But you make me want to be the best version of myself, be the best that I can be in every aspect of my life. And with you in my world, I feel I can take on any challenge, I feel I can handle any situation. My heart is yours 100% and I don’t want to even think about living a moment without you by my side. I love you so so much. Will you marry me?”

Tears filled your eyes as Erik moved to kneel on one knee, pulling a ring out of his pocket. This was everything you’d ever hoped for, and with the man of your dreams – there was only one answer.

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you!” you gasped.

The biggest smile you’d ever seen spread across Erik’s lips, and as he slid the ring onto your finger, tears ran down your cheeks. Oh wow. Oh wow. The ring was perfect – a simple square diamond on a study platinum band, delicate but classy, and it fit just right. Holy shit you were a lucky woman.

“I love you, Erik,” you whimpered, pulling him down to kiss you, strawberries be damned.

Erik laughed shakily into your mouth, kissing you over and over and over again, until the two of you were laughing and crying too hard to continue. So you sat upright, wiping your cheeks dry and leaning into his chest as he sat behind you, admiring the ring on your left hand with a smile. Wow.

“Your mom knew, huh,” you murmured, thinking back to the smile she’d sent you off with this morning.

“Yeah, she knew I was going to attempt a proposal today at least,” he laughed.

“Anyone else?”

Erik nodded. “My dad. Gabe too, he went shopping with me. Maybe Mel? Also your mom and dad,”

“My parents?” you asked, shocked, twisting to look up at him.

He just smiled. “Yeah, I asked your dad’s permission. Had to do things right,”

How could you not kiss him for that?

~~~~~

+1

The box in your hands looked pretty simple, a small plain square, but it was going to change your life. In it was the gift you had prepared to welcome your husband home, with some news that you had been hoping for since you’d gotten married last year.

You’d felt off for weeks, but you’d initially put it down to a bad hangover from NYE (you were over 30 now, these things happened), and then to some bad sushi that Cale’s girlfriend had suggested (never again!). But then it became something you couldn’t ignore, and all of your instincts had been correct.

And you’d found out for certain while Erik was away with the team for the first road trip of the New Year. You’d enlisted Mel’s help to come up with a fun way to tell him, swearing her to secrecy of course, and she’d been more than happy to help.

And now here you were, waiting on the sofa for Erik to arrive home.

As soon as you heard the key turning in the lock, you slid the box under the sofa, jumping to your feet to greet him properly.

“Hey, babe,” you grinned, throwing your arms around him.

“Hey,” Erik mumbled, sighing as he hugged you back.

Ouch. It hadn’t been a great trip, you had to admit, 2 losses and one OT win that was a hard fight, but Erik had played his ass off and you were proud of him.

“I missed you,” you said softly, raising your head for a kiss.

Erik managed a smile, kissing you as you’d silently requested. The kiss stayed slow and soft, only a little light tongue, but it still sent shivers down your spine. Eventually you broke away, and Erik was smiling a bit more genuinely now. Good.

“Sofa?” you suggested.

Erik just shrugged, following behind you. Hopefully the news you had for him would cheer him up. Hopefully. As you sat down, Erik pulled you tightly against his side, kissing you a bit more firmly, and you couldn’t help but melt into his arms, sliding your hands around his neck. I love you I love you I love you. You didn’t know how long you stayed kissing for, the embrace going from slow to fast and intense to slow again, but when you broke away for air your body was tingling. Damn.

“Hey, I have something for you,” you said suddenly, breaking the moment. You wanted to tell him before you broke your nerve.

Erik huffed a laugh, slumping back into the sofa cushions next to you.

“Sure, go for it,” he nodded.

You bit your bottom lip at his indifference. Hopefully you’d get more of a response than that. So you pulled the small box out from under the sofa where you’d hidden it, passing it to Erik silently. He raised an eyebrow at you, but you just shrugged, smiling at him. Erik smiled softly back at you, pulling off the lid.

But then he just looked down at the contents with a frown, clearly confused.

“You got me…my own jersey?” he asked, looking back at you.

You just laughed, shaking your head. You had folded it purposefully to only show his number, but you hadn’t thought he would just stop there.

“Pull it out babe,” you prompted, not saying anything further.

Erik pouted but turned back to the box, and did so. But then he froze at the tiny jersey in his hands.

“Daddy?” he murmured, his voice cracking as he read the name.

Then he whipped his head towards you, eyes desperate, and you grinned.

“I’m…daddy?”

You just burst out laughing, making him blush. But the hope in his eyes hadn’t dimmed at all.

“Yeah Erik, you’re daddy,” you nodded, laying a hand on your stomach where the smallest of bumps was forming.

Your eyes widened as Erik choked out a noise that sounded like a sob, but shrieked with laughter as he launched himself forward, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed kisses all over your face.

“Erik!” you giggled, batting at his hands half-heartedly.

Erik just pressed a firm kiss to your lips, making you sigh and melt into his grasp. When he pulled away, he had tears in his eyes, making you tear up as well.

“You’re pregnant? How far along?” he murmured, eyes glancing down to your stomach.

You smiled, moving one of his hands to press where he was looking, knowing that was what he wanted.

“About two months. Would’ve been early November, the doctor said,” you admitted.

Erik huffed out a breath, eyes still full of tears, making you laugh.

“Happy tears?” you asked hopefully.

“So happy,” he nodded quickly, “happy tears, happy news, happy surprise,”

You couldn’t help but to smile, leaning up to kiss him again, Erik kissing you back desperately. Whatever surprises the future would hold, you knew you could handle anything thrown at you, as long as you had him by your side.

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (8)

Hello, hello, hello! Here’s chapter 8 after a long break since chapter 7! If you haven’t all ready, make sure you go check out the prologue to Sweet Home Alabama once you’re done here, as I may post the first chap very soon!

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2178

Warnings: Some language? I can’t think of anything else

% approximately the 3rd week of October %

You hadn’t really told anyone what you’d been doing Sunday, and especially left out the part where you were with Tom.

Once getting home the previous night, you’d quickly taken off your makeup and brushed your teeth before essentially passing out on your bed. You’d also snoozed your alarm enough times that you’d had to rush to school that morning, getting to class with only a minute to spare.

In the afternoon, your friends sat around a lunch table discussing how your weekends had gone.

“Mine was pretty boring. How about yours, y/n?” Caroline asked.

“It was fine. Mostly did homework. Oh, and I took some senior pictures yesterday, but that’s it.”

“Oh that’s why your hair is straight?” someone else asked.

“Yeah, I got home late and woke up late so I just tossed on some jeans this morning.”

“Where even were you? Your snap maps said you were at the lake,” Alexis stated. 

To say that question made you nervous was an understatement. You didn’t want to give anything away so you tried to keep it vague.

“Oh, yeah. The photographer knew of a place out there we could go so I said yes.”

“Who was your photographer? I’ve been looking to get pictures done,” Caroline said.

Well, there goes ambiguity.

“Hah, well, Nikki Holland.”

“Isn’t that Tom’s mom?” Alexis asked, squinting at you. You sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been at their house a lot for the project and her whole career is photography so she asked me if I wanted her to do my pictures for free. I couldn’t turn that down.

“So that’s why you and Tom were at the same location yesterday!” Alexis exclaimed.

“What! Keep your voice down!”

“So it’s true? You and Tom took your senior pictures together? I was waiting until you’d admit why you were together.”

“Okay there are so many things I need to address but firstly, we did not take them together, we just did them at the same time. And secondly, since when do you have Tom on snap?”

Alexis rubbed the back of her neck and looked away. Everyone else looked surprised and kept quiet.

“Remember sophomore year when I went to that party while you were out of town? And I told you I made out with someone? Well….”

“ALEXIS!”

“I was drunk, okay? By the next day I realized how gross it was, but I kept him on snap so I could keep tabs for when we talked trash about him.”

You folded your arms across your chest and stared blankly across the table at your best friend.

“And you just didn’t think to tell me that you, I don’t know, made out with my mortal enemy and have had him on snap for the past 2 years?”

“I thought you’d be mad at me! Obviously it was the one time, and we’ve never sent each other a single snap. This was about you anyways and how you and Tom spent yesterday together. Where were you, actually?” Alexis asked, looking at you expectantly. You rolled your eyes.

“His grandparents have a lake house, okay? His mom planned the whole thing and the leaves were pretty colors, so it was whatever.”

“Hm, I guess so…” Alexis trailed, giving you one final look of “this conversation isn’t over” before someone brought up a different topic.

%

With volleyball regionals that upcoming weekend and Tom having an away game, you and he decided to work together that Thursday at his place.

You quickly rinsed off after practice and headed over to his house where he was waiting at the door. 

“Took you awhile,” he commented as you came up the sidewalk.

“Yeah, sorry. I got caught talking to coach about this weekend. It also takes forever to get these leggings on right out of the shower,” you joked, gesturing down at your athletic pants.

You got to work pretty quickly as there was a lot to do as compared to normal. By the time you finished, it was almost dinnertime.

“Oh, I think my mom finished all those pictures if you want them. Let’s go find her,” Tom suggested, leading you downstairs.

Her and Dom were in the kitchen cooking together. It was sweet watching them interact.

“Hey, mom? Did you say you had that flash drive done?” Tom interrupted, causing both parents to turn.

“Yes! I’m glad you reminded me. Dom, hold down the fort while I go get that.”

She led you to her office, then dug around her desk until she found it, handing it to you.

“You know, dinner will be ready in probably 10 minutes. You’re free to eat with us tonight,” she offered.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You never impose on us! And absolutely, we always make more than enough food so the boys can take leftovers to school.”

Well if you’re sure… I’ll text my mom and make sure she doesn’t mind.”

She didn’t, so as you waited for dinner, you sat down on a living room couch, Tom taking a recliner nearby. From the corner of your eye you saw Paddy walk in the room and freeze when he saw you.

“Y/n! Lovely to see you on this fine evening,” he greeted, sitting tentatively on the other end of the couch. You held back a chuckle at his word choice.

“And you as well, sir. How was your day?” you asked, trying to get him out of his shell. 

His eyes widened as he told you all about his school day. You prepared to reply when Dom came and announced the food was done.

You followed everyone to the dining room and stood watching, not wanting to accidentally take someone’s seat.

“Oh, you can sit here, y/n,” Paddy said, pulling out a seat for you in the middle of the table. You glanced to Tom, who was rolling his eyes.

“Thanks, Paddy. What a gentleman you are,” you complimented as he helped tuck in your chair. He took the seat on the left of you as Tom sat on your right. Directly across from you were Sam, then Harry and Dom on either side. Nikki took the head.

“Y/n, why don’t you get what you want first,” Nikki suggested, gesturing over the food. There was spaghetti, salad, and bread. You got only a little bit of each thing, trying to be polite.

“That’s all you want? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you eat more on the bus to soccer games than that,” Tom commented. You raised your eyebrows at him and nudged his knee with yours.

“Thomas! Don’t be rude! Y/n, you’re free to however much or little you’d like. You can always go back for more later, too.”

Dinner went relatively smoothly aside from that, most of the conversation being centered on you as different family members wanted to know different things (Paddy especially as he’d trained his eyes on you almost the entire evening). For the most part, Tom was quiet except to crack a few jokes or answer something you asked him.

As everyone was finishing their meals, you offered to help clean up.

“Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s Tom’s job to do the dishes tonight,” Dom told you.

“I don’t mind helping him. I can dry if nothing else.”

After being reminded a few times that you shouldn't feel the need to, you went with Tom to the kitchen anyways, holding a towel. 

“You really don’t have to help me, you know. You’re technically our guest,” he said as the sink filled with water.

“Seriously, I don’t mind. I have nothing better to do anyways since I finished my homework.”

You worked together pretty much silently, falling into a comfortable rhythm. As you set down the last plate, Tom spoke up.

“Hey y/n, think fast.”

“Wha- TOM!” you exclaimed, as he had shot water at you, making the front of your shirt wet. “Oh you are so dead for that!” 

You jumped on his back, pressing your wet shirt against him, causing his own shirt to dampen. He thrashed around, the both of you laughing.

“What the hell is going on in- oh,” said Sam, who entered the room. 

You both froze in place, you quickly sliding off Tom as Sam looked at you skeptically.

“Your brother just sprayed me with the faucet, so I was getting back at him,” you tried to convince him. It is what happened after all.

“Right... I was just coming to grab something from the drawer, so I’ll leave you all to it,” he said awkwardly as he dug around the drawer and quickly made his leave. 

You and Tom both looked at each other awkwardly before bursting into laughter.

“You know you’re lucky this is a dark shirt,” you said after a moment.

“Am I though?”

“TOM!”

%

When you got home a little bit later, you decided to plug in your flash drive and look at all the pictures Nikki had taken. You were marveling at her work when your phone started buzzing. It was Alexis.

“Hey, what’s up?” you picked up, confused as to why she’d call on a Thursday night.

“Hey. I saw that you were home so I figured I was good to call. Are you alone?”

“Yes, and why do you need me alone?”

She paused.

“Look, y/n, I’m sorry for bringing that stuff up about Tom in front of the girls Monday, but, since I don’t know when I’ll be able to get you alone again, I need to ask you something.”

“Okay what is going on?” You’re scaring me a little.”

“I hate to be the one to ask this, because I know you and we came up with that whole revenge thing at the beginning of the semester but… do you… have feelings for Tom?”

You were taken aback at her question.

“What! Me have feelings for Tom? Are you crazy?”

She sighed.

“Well it’s just that, you two are always together now, your usual bickering has turned into normal banter, and you literally traveled to take pictures with him last weekend. It just seems like something else is there, and the whole school is starting to pick up on it.”

Ironically, you had frozen on a picture of you and Tom from Sunday, one of you standing in your sports uniforms back to back.

“Okay so maybe we’re kind of friends now, but that doesn’t mean I like him! And how many times do I have to say that the pictures were just at the same time?”

“Then explain to me why his mom’s website has multiple pictures of you two together?”

Your blood ran cold and stomach dropped.

“Wait, what?” you breathed, immediately going to pull up her page. Like Alexis said, a picture of the two of you posing was at the top of the home page. It was the same one you’d been looking at before. “Oh, no,” you whispered.

“Are you seeing it?” she asked.

You gulped.

“Yep. But, it’s not that bad, right? I mean she takes tons of sports pictures and we look super serious. It’s not like we’re standing with our arms wrapped around each other or anything.” you rationalized, half joking at the end of your sentence.

“You might want to scroll down, then…”

You went past a photo of just you on the dock railing in your jumpsuit to find one of Tom lifting you over his shoulder, but of you laughing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered.

“Are you sure you’ve got nothing to tell me? I’ve had lots of guy friends and most of them don't do that to me.”

“Yes, Alexis, I’m sure. He was getting back at me for something and acted like he was gonna throw me in the lake. I didn’t realize Nikki took any pictures of it. I’ll ask Tom about it.”

“If you say so… I’ll believe you. But you do know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course I do, and I’m telling you right now that nothing has happened or will ever happen. We’re just friends, okay? Now I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow?” you finished.

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” she signed off, ending the call.

You felt another pit in your stomach thinking about how you’d lied to her. You definitely didn’t have feelings, but why didn’t you tell Alexis about that moment you’d had in his room a couple weeks back, or how you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder Sunday night, or even how you’d accidentally seen him naked?

Because she’d think there’s something there.

But there isn’t.

But..?

You shook the thoughts away as you texted Tom, asking him to take a glance at his mom’s website.

“Omg I have no idea why she used the third picture. I’ll see if she’ll change it” he answered. 

You were glad he would save your asses like that, but felt a twinge of sadness for it to be replaced. You almost didn’t mind it being there.

%

A/N: another long awaited marriage project! I have been working so hard to get this out while going through rewrites and working on sweet home alabama, but hopefully this will hold y’all over for now. As always, thank you so much and feel free to hit up my asks any time!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads, 

[starlight-writes-stuff]

‘light me up’ chapter four : blackout

a/n : hey , sorry this took forever lol . i’m working on a couple requests at the same time , and just trying to juggle everything (: this chapter is a little bit shorter than the past few (3.3k) but i promise the next two are hot fire . stick with me , okay ? xoxoxoxoxo , starlight <3

tw : panic attack , fainting

reblogs are always appreciated !

☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁

You could feel Draco’s eyes following you all the way up the stairs, through the heavy oak door that led to your room. If looks could kill, you’d be dead and gone by now- there was a certain heat, a certain intensity behind Draco’s stare that seemed to cut right through you. Before you opened the door to your bedroom, you took a moment to prepare yourself for the onslaught of questions you were sure to receive.

You weren't prepared for the exact opposite: complete and suffocating silence. Rose didn’t even meet your eyes as you walked into the room, laying your bag down on the nearest surface, and Belle just looked you over, forcing a smile. 

“I thought you were doing homework, Y/N? Are you already finished?”

The sadness and disappointment were evident in Belle’s voice and seemed to tear right through you as you took a seat on your trunk.  You felt trapped- an unstoppable force against an immovable object. It seemed like the most perfect, painful paradox, and you knew that there was no getting out of this.

“Yeah.”

Belle scrunched her face, then broke eye contact. Neither of your friends could even look at you, and all you could say was ‘yeah.’ you felt wave after wave of disappointment and self-hatred roll over your shoulders, slowly crushing you. Dimly, you wondered what you looked like on the outside- could anyone see you falling into a spiral? Was it obvious, what was going on in your head? Or did you just look normal, plain as ever?

“Draco came to talk to me.”

Belle’s movements paused briefly; neither of your friends were used to his name being brought up in conversation. Draco wasn’t someone that seemed to revolve in the same universe as you guys, much less the same friends. She quickly resumed packing her bag, still not looking at you. Her voice was even and measured when she spoke again.

“How did that go?” You wanted to scream. The entire conversation felt so false, so forced, and you knew it was your fault. Before you had time to think about it, you stood up from your trunk and walked over to Rose. she was laying on her bed, reading, and didn’t bother to look up at you.

“Are you really gonna do this?”

Silence.

“Fine. You guys want to know what’s wrong? I’ll tell you.” you exclaimed, the words shooting from your mouth, each one coated in your spiteful, impulsive poison. “Everyone, everyone in my life leaves, okay? They get to know me, they decide that i’m too much to handle, or they don't like what they see, or whatever, and they run. Cedric promised me he would stay. He promised me,” you said, voice breaking, “that he wasn’t going to run.” to your horror you felt something wet start a trail for many down your cheek. Tears rolled from your eyes like raindrops from dark clouds, and you fell apart. 

Every wall you’d ever built seemed to deteriorate in an instant, crumbling down and smothering you. You felt every part of your body be pulverized by the force of each hateful, vicious brick, every bit of blistering mortar. The violence splintered your bones and ripped your muscles at the seams. It was as if all of your nerve endings were being electrocuted, a car battery having its merry way with all the electric signals pulsing throughout your body. You couldn’t breathe- it was as if your throat was pinned shut, cruel staples cutting you off from sweet oxygen you felt your lungs decay, the pink muscle going black with the lack of the vital substance. Your emotions seemed to overtake you, never sparing you the chance for one final breath before they wrenched you down, down, down to the depths of your psyche before drowning you forever. 

                                                     ☁ ☁ ☁

The first thing you noticed after regaining consciousness was the sun. Something luminous and harsh was poking at your eyelids, lighting your skin with a yellowish glow. You squeezed your eyes shut before trying to blink yourself awake, realizing that the sun had been the mysterious glow. You then noticed that you weren’t in your bed, or your clothes. 

This woke you up quickly. After a short investigation of your surroundings, you quickly deduced that you were in the infirmary. Belle and Rose were in beds on either side of you, both girls sitting up in some way. They were angled toward you, and each had various medical supplies: a rag, a mostly melted bag of ice, some sort of vial of pure ginger extract. Your body immediately humbled you as you tried to sit up, a skull splitting pain searing throughout your brain. You slumped back, moaning in pain.

Both of your friends woke up instantly at the noise, scrambling off of their cots and over to you. “Oh thank Merlin-”

“Get madam Pomf-”

“I'm just so glad you're okay i-”

“Jesus, Y/N, you scared us-”

“I promise i will never not talk you you again-”

A groan escaped your lips, all the noise too much for you to take in at once. Belle and Rose lowered their voices, their concern coming out in soft coos and scared murmurs. The pair seemed to have worked all the concern out of their systems, and were now assessing their next move. Belle set off to find Madam Pomfrey while Rose stayed behind, picking up one of your hands.

“What happened?”

Rose looked at you with an untraceable expression- you couldn’t read her for the first time ever. “We don’t know. It was like… you just- left. You were talking and then you started breathing like, really fast. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you were just… gone. We’ve been here all night. Madam Pomfrey said you had some sort of panic attack.”

“Merlin,” you whispered, swearing under your breath. You’d had panic attacks before, but never this severe. It had manifested physically; this was the first time it hadn’t been all in your head. You took a brief moment to collect yourself, processing the information that Rose had shared. You didn't know what you were supposed to do, or say, or anything really.

“Did someone catch me?”

Rose pulled a face, and your head throbbed. Propping yourself up on elbows, you brushed a hand over the back of your skull. You recoiled as you made contact with a massive bump on the back of your head. With more gentle fingers you inspected the egg sized lump that had taken up residence on your skull. 

“It was really fast- we didn’t have time to react. Belle immediately started screaming. She thought you died. Her screams were loud enough to alert the common room- someone had already run halfway to Madam Pomfrey’s before we woke you back up. Do you remember?”

“What?” The last thing you remembered was coming up to bed after talking to Draco. 

“Yeah. we woke you up after you’d passed out- only for a minute, really. You were panicked; you thought that you were drowning. You kept telling Belle and I that you couldn’t breathe, that you were sinking. Madam Pomfrey gave you something to knock you back out. You’ve been sleeping since then.”

You brought your hands back down into your lap, trying to lay back down. The bump had become more apparent now that you were fully awake; it radiated a dull, throbbing pain throughout your whole body. You looked up at Rose, who seemed to be searching your face for something. 

“Are you okay?”

Rose scoffed, but the tears in her eyes seemed to betray her hard exterior. She wiped harshly at the droplets, leaving angry red smears on her cheeks. “Maybe. I don't know. For a split second- you know-” she stuttered, trying to find the words. “I thought that you died or something. Like, you were having a heart attack, and you died with me ignoring you. I was really scared.” 

You blinked, taking a big breath in. “i’m sorry.”

This caught Rose off guard. You were rarely the first to apologize- your stubborn nature was one of your biggest struggles. It was also why you were so good at ignoring your emotions; until now, apparently. Right as she started to respond Belle came rushing in, Madam Pomfrey in hand. 

“See, she’s awake,” Belle painted, out of breath. She must’ve sprinted all the way to the healers quarters.

You offered a weak wave to Madam Pomfrey. “Alright, Y/N?”

“Alright. Sore, but alright.”

“Gonna be sore for a while- you knocked ‘rself pretty good. How’s your memory?” she asked, starting concussion protocol. You’d sat through many of these with Cedric.

“Not bad. I don’t remember anything past going up to bed, but everything before that.”

“What day of the week is it?”

You faltered for a second, but recovered quickly. “Sunday.”

“And what house ‘re you in?”

“Slytherin.” 

“Middle name?”

“Y/M/N. I’m fine, I promise. Just a little banged up.”

“What’s the date?”

“It's October 29th. I’m okay, really,” you explained, gritting your teeth against the agony that came with sitting up. Once you were upright, you grabbed for the glass of water that sat by your cot, untouched. You drank the whole thing in three sips, pouring more from the pitcher as you met Madam Pomfrey’s eyes. “Do you know what happened to me?”

“It seems as if you worked yourself into a bit of a situation, love. Do you have panic attacks often?”

“Yes.” you tried not to react to the face’s Rose and Belle made; they were hurt. You hadn’t told them that.

“Faint usually?”

“No. Never. I don't know why this time was any different,” you answered honestly. You were usually able to get yourself through your panic attacks with minimal effort- you’d been dealing with this for years. It was just something you were used to by now. 

Madam Pomfey hummed as she thought, turning to rummage through some shelves. She returned with a clear, unmarked bottle, corked with what looked like a cinnamon stick. The liquid inside was clear and thin, just like water. “What is this?”

“To help with the faintness, the lightheaded feeling. Got something going for your goose egg. I’ll be back with that in a bit. Alright?” she asked again, clearly concerned. 

“Fine, no worries.”

Madam Pomfrey looked to Rose, making steely eye contact. “You make sure she drinks that. Gonna get real busy here in about 20 minutes- all the quidditch players ’ll be comin’ in. want her out of here before that- too loud for a head injury. Understand?” 

Looking slightly intimidated and yet determined, Rose nodded her head. As Madam Pomfrey exited your two friends looked to each other, then down at you in sync. 

“How are you, really?” Belle asked, picking up one of your hands to hold. “Thought we lost you there for a minute.”

“I’m okay, really. This has never happened before. Freak accident, or something,” you explained, trying not to cringe at the ache rippling through your body. You drank another cup of water as both girls were silent. What do you say in a situation like this, though?

“Why didn’t you tell us it’s been getting bad again?” Belle asked, voice breaking and weak.

“I’m sorry.” 

Rose squeezed your shoulder, drawing you attention off of Belle and her misty eyes. “I mean this from a place of love: `I’m sorry’ isn't enough anymore, Y/N. You can’t do this stuff to yourself- I won’t let you.”

Again; unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

But this time the object is fractured and frail and too drained to fight back. Not so immovable anymore. 

“I didn’t think it was this bad; usually I can tell. I guess I locked myself too far down. I can’t- couldn’t- really feel anything. Blocked it all out, I think.”

“Why?”

You thought about this for a moment. Why really was the question. Why had you shut yourself down so far? Why had you let it get so bad? Why had everything gotten so bad so fast? Why had you passed out?

“I don't know. I mean- a lot has been happening, I guess. And for me… well, for me it’s better to feel nothing than to feel hurt, you know?”

Belle sniffled, and Rose murmured something to the sensitive girl under her breath. Belle nodded, and turned around. You watched your best friend’s slumped over form exit the room, the noise of her cries softening the further away she got. 

“Do you remember what you were telling me before? I mean, before you passed out?”

You thought about this for a second- you remembered a tense, very strained exchange with Belle and Rose, but you couldn’t recall what it was over. Then, everything was blurry, all muffled and underwater. You did your best to sort through the memories, and landed on one of Draco Malfoy. It came back to you, how you’d left the blonde boy sitting there with no explanation after coming off rather cold. You tried to process this, a grimace building on your face. 

“I remember sitting in the common room, talking to Draco. But everything is murky after that. Why?”

Rose’s face cycled through a multitude of expressions before relaxing back to something neutral again. “Why were you talking to Malfoy?”

“He came over to me.”

Rose swore under her breath, putting a hand on your shoulder as she made eye contact. “You can’t tell Belle I told you this- she doesn’t think you should know, but… anyway. When you fainted, Belle panicked, right? And Draco was the first to respond. From what she told me, he heard your name and the words ‘passed out’ and broke into a dead sprint to the infirmary. He came by to visit you early this morning- he seemed concerned.”

Your stomach tied itself into knot after knot, coiling in on itself. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with this information. Why had Draco come to check on you? Why did he care?

“Oh.”

“Yeah. That's off topic, though. You don't remember what we were talking about?” Rose asked, looking earnest. You knew that you were missing a key piece of the puzzle, but you couldn’t seem to find it. You shook your head at the dark haired girl, the action sending pain reverberating through your body. Rose stilled, her body looking as if it were about to snap like a tensed rubberband. You could tell that she was having some sort of internal debate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to figure out what she was thinking. Everything hurt too bad. You wanted to go back to sleep.

You pulled the small vial from Rose’s fingers, uncorking the bottle and tossing the liquid back into your throat. You coughed and sputtered, eyes welling from the fire that seemed to be coursing its way down the back of your pharynx- you felt like you were choking for the second time in 24 hours. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Rose rushed to pour another cup of water, tipping your chin up and holding the cup to your lips. You drank it down as if you were dying, the cool liquid extinguishing the flames licking your insides. 

“What is that?

Before Rose could answer, Madam Pomfrey came trotting back in, holding a lavender-colored compress. It seemed to be glowing from the inside, and emitted a sweet scent of some sort of herb that you couldn’t put your finger on. 

“Right then Y/N, put this on your head.”

You didn’t bother to ask what it was, seeking any sort of relief from the agony that was working its way up and down your spine. Taking the compress from Madam Pomfrey, you placed the icy cold cloth on the bump that had formed. A moan of pleasure escaped your lips as the pain seemed to be leached from your skull- it was as if it had never been there in the first place. “Wow. What is this?”

“Old recipe. Pulls the pain right out, doesn’t it? Feeling okay?”

You went to lift your hand to give the wrinkled woman a thumbs up, but your arms felt like rubber. You began to worry when you tried to push yourself up onto elbows, but couldn’t get your limbs to behave.

Madam Pomfrey sucked a breath in through her teeth. “Right- that’s a normal side effect. Weakness. Should be gone within the day. If not, come and see me again.”

You sputtered, beginning to fight back; why hadn’t she explained this to you before you’d drained the pain from your head? You began to think that you’d rather have the skull splitting ache back, but there was no way you were going back to that. The complaint died in the back of your throat as you heard a rumble approaching the infirmary.

“Oh dear, the game must’ve finished. Y/N, how's the head?”

You rolled your neck from side to side, letting it fall back against the pillow. There was a dull sort of throb, but significantly less pain than before. “Alright, I think.”

Madam Pomfrey gave you a satisfied sort of nod, then tuned to Rose. “feel okay about getting her out of here? Probably going to need to be monitored for the next few hours.”

Rose blinked, her eyebrows starting to furrow. She opened her mouth, ready to say something but before she could do so the doors to the infirmary cracked open. Quidditch players in various stages of dishevelment poured in, each calling out for Madam Pomfrey’s assistance. 

And there he was.

Draco was bleeding from his lip, a stream of the crimson liquid making its way down his chin. This somehow made him look even better- you took a moment to evaluate why you were even more attracted to him now- then broke your stare, looking at Rose. “Can we go?”

“How am I supposed to get you out of here?” she asked in a harsh whisper, glaring at someone. You didn’t have to turn your head to figure out who.

“Y/N,” Draco breathed, his voice filled with concern. “You’re up. Are you okay?”

You widen your eyes at Rose, a signal. She gave you a barely perceptible nod, then you turned to give Draco a tight smile. “Hey, Malfoy. I’m fine, really.”

“What happened? You weren’t even upstairs for 10 minutes before Belle-”

“I hate to interrupt, but I really need to get Y/N up to bed. She’s on bedrest for today, so we should probably go.” Rose’s voice was unyielding and left no room for Draco to talk back. He scoured your face for some sort of answer, but couldn’t find anything in your blank expression. Finally, Draco put a hand on your arm, squeezing the completely numb limb. 

“Yeah, okay. Hey, we won,” he said, a warm smile painting Draco’s lips. Your heart fluttered, jumping up into your throat as Draco’s voice dropped lower. “Drove them into the ground.”

You were disgusted by how soft your voice came out, answering the blonde boy. “Shame I couldn’t see it.”

Before the two of you could continue whatever you were doing, Rose cleared her throat. “Y/N,” she spoke, her voice hard. “We need to go. How are we leaving?”

You turned to Rose, simultaneously grateful and angry with her for ending the gentle exchange you and Draco had been sharing. “I don't know. What did Madam Pomfrey say?”

Rose squabble with the answer, biting the inside of her cheek. She seemed to realize that there was no workaround for the situation- she couldn’t lift you, and the last time she’d done a levitation spell a pillow had exploded mid-air in your shared room. 

“Draco, can you lift her?”

Balls. 

[apr1cots]

sadboy sirius pt 2

They didn't speak for three weeks.

That was the longest any of them had gone without speaking to one another since they had become friends, which made everything feel soberingly serious. No pun intended.

One time Sirius and James had gotten into a hotheaded argument about about who had the “most swoon-worthy hair,” and they hadn't spoken for ten days. After Peter and Remus locked them in a room together until they finally admitted that their hair was “equally swoon-worthy and just attracted different sorts of girls,” they sat side by side for 20 hours straight, just talking. They insisted that they be fully updated on all happenings they had missed, spending an indulgent 2 hours catching up on each day they hadn’t spoken. (Despite the fact that they had been in all the same classes and at all the same meals, just in silence.)

The three weeks that Remus and Sirius didn't speak were accompanied by a miserable Peter who hated conflict and a partially stressed, partially aggravated, and very confused James who just wanted to fix everything, even though no one would tell him what was wrong. The only thing James knew was that Sirius was more hurt than he let on and that he was only fronting as haughty and angry.

Remus was much harder to figure out.

He didn't speak to Sirius, but he wasn’t  indignant or obvious like his counterpart was. Instead, he was removed and vacant, but not upset. He acted like nothing was wrong, but he didn't act like everything was alright either.

James was going crazy.

To top it off, as sixth years and as Marauders, it was their official duty to throw the epic Halloween bash they had been hyping up since last November, but that was difficult with the jagged division slicing their group up.

James spent every free moment running back and forth between his best friends getting their input and advice on how to coordinate this and that and assigning everyone their tasks. He was pretty close to having a heart attack to say the least.

The afternoon of October 30th, Sirius appeared in the common room, looking only a little bit like death and still carrying the chill of the tunnels to the village with him. He had a massive case of firewhiskey in his arms and a large bag full of chocolate frogs, licorice wands, and who knew what else on his shoulder. His eyes were darker and more daring than ever and he lacked the usual mischievous smirk that accompanied all Hogsmeade raids.

“Sirius?” James questioned immediately, “what’s all this? I thought we were going to the Village tonight?” he whined when Sirius was close enough to speak to privately.

Sirius just shrugged and continued towards their dormitory to stash the goods.

“Sirius? I was going to go with you. Not to mention, you’re just carrying that shit around where anyone could see it. How did you get it all during daylight hours and what in Merlin’s name would you have done if you'd run into a Professor in the castle?”

Sirius managed another nonchalant shrug despite his heavy load. “I had time this afternoon. And actually, I paid for the goods this time.”

James could do nothing but sputter in shock for a moment. “Padfoot! You’re underage for one and people there KNOW you. They know you’re supposed to be in school!”

“I threw a disillusionment charm over myself and then the alcohol once I was in the castle, Prongs. It’s fine.”

“Sirius!” James hissed in shock. “That’s illegal and you didn't have backup and we would've been perfectly safe tonight.”

Sirius’ mask of apathy neglected to change again. He dumped his bag and the crate on the floor by his bed and turned to face James briefly just to say, “Honestly James, I don’t give a fuck,” before collapsing on his bed and closing the curtains with a brief wave of his wand.

***

Halloween came on as Sunday as blustery as ever. The wind made the widows whine in displeasure and the rain relentlessly pelted the castle and the grounds. During an unusually late lunch, the ceiling of the great hall rumbled forebodingly. James was halfway through a rather large pumpkin pastie when he realized that Sirius wasn’t eating.

He looked even more miserable than usual, which was particularly odd, because Sirius loved Halloween. He considered it the precursor to his birthday, which he had grown to love since attending Hogwarts. Sirius always went a little over the top for Halloween, dressing obnoxiously in an attempt to win the (not so) little costume competition the Marauders had every year, trying to outdo his friends. He also usually drank too much and spent the whole night loving on everyone and everything in his most happy-go-lucky, tipsy form.

Now, Sirius sat on the bench next to his best friend with dark circles under his unfocused eyes and his chin resting on his palm. James had to nudge him three times before he reacted.

“Mate, you gonna eat?”

“‘M not hungry.” He grumbled almost indistinguishably. He hesitated for a moment, and James caught him glancing at Remus sitting across from them, but before he could say anything, Sirius had risen to his feet and started to detangle himself from the bench to leave.

“Sirius?”

“I’ll see you later.”

James didn’t know what to say, and by the time he had his bearings, Sirius had stalked off. James clamped his jaw, turning back to Remus who hadn’t looked up from the ancient, probably forbidden, book he was reading. “Remus, I don’t know what went on, but whatever it is needs to be resolved. I can’t stand this.”

Remus looked up and met James’ eyes with a very measured expression. “I don’t know what his problem is.”

Peter groaned from Remus’ side and made a face at James. “Let’s go discuss possible party pranks. This lunch has officially been ruined.” Remus and James followed him without any further discussion of their missing piece.

Sirius left the castle without hesitation, barely even pausing to wrap his robes more tightly around himself when the barrage of rain hit his face. He trudged down to the Pitch, which was abandoned due to the weather and the holiday. He quickly retrieved his broom, a practice bludger, and his bat, before yanking on his gloves. He quickly spelled the bludger to play him one on one, a spell that he’d discovered a couple of years previous during a period of major rage that James insisted he work out somehow.

He didn’t really register anything that happened after that. He spent what could've been minutes or days flying as quickly as possible around the pitch, practicing transitioning from full speed to a hover with a series of screeching halts. He almost fell off his broom too many times to count, sliding down the slippery wood in a manner that would've made any spectator’s heart stop.

At one point, his bat missed the bludger by a hair and it slammed hard and fast into his shoulder. Sirius went flying off his broom, catching it with his left hand at the very last second. He hung there panting for a moment, before the bludger took the opportunity to whip around and come back towards him. Sirius let out a string of curses, realizing simultaneously that he had left his wand sitting on the bench in the locker room (because he hadn't wanted to break it flying) and that he was moments away from losing his grip and falling to his probable death.

He summoned all of the magic that he could and threw up his hand in the direction of the rapidly approaching bludger, successfully freezing it in midair before it dropped straight to the ground. He had disabled the spell he had cast earlier.

Using the last of his physical and magical strength, Sirius managed to boost himself back on his broom. His left hand and his shoulder were in excruciating pain, but he gritted his teeth, taking one more prideful lap around the pitch before his feet hit the absolutely soggy grass. Mud splattered up his legs as he carried his broom and his traitorous bludger back to the locker room.

He cast a quick tempus, and let out a particularly sour curse as he realized he was late to his own Halloween party. As he headed back towards the castle he briefly thought about how he’d have Remus cast a couple spells on his bleeding hand and aching shoulder, since the werewolf was by far the best at healing spells. Then he remembered that Remus fucking hated him now. Stellar.

Sirius took four deep breaths as he contemplated the fat lady, trying to prepare himself for the scene he knew he was about to face. Finally, he said the password with a sigh, forcing his mask of nonchalance to encompass him once more as he stepped into the common room that was currently too much to take in. Music that he hadn't heard from the hallway due to a particularly strong muffliato, practically shook the walls.There were so many bodies that Sirius barely recognized his own living space. People danced and shouted to each other and sent spells and sparks flying in attempts to enhance their costumes.

Sirius stood immobile for less than a minute before James found him.

“Where in MERLIN have you been?” James heckled, already drunk.

Sirius just shook his head, grabbed the drink straight out of James’ hand and ignored the intense kick to his throat as he drained it in one gulp.

Remus didn’t see Sirius until he was incredibly far gone. He was raunchily dancing around the common room with a mostly empty bottle of firewhiskey held loosely in his right hand. His left arm hung limply at his side, and Remus could tell there was something wrong with it, but there was nothing he could say.

Everyone was talking to Sirius and trying to dance with him and get him to take another shot or do some explosive spell, but Remus could tell that Sirius was out of control. His eyes were blurred, his words slurred, and he was grinning like a maniac. Remus took a step back from the still amped up crowd to stand against the wall to breathe for just a moment. He wasn't totally sober, but he also had a supernatural tolerance for alcohol, so he was able to think much more clearly than his peers, and he knew no-one would notice him watching Sirius. For just a moment, he promised himself (again).

Sirius notoriously hooked up with people at parties, but he usually did it consciously, and that was certainly something he was not at the moment. Remus realized with an edge of alarm that a seventh year Rvaenclaw girl had started to corner Sirius. He was being pushed up against a wall and all too quickly, her lips were on his. No one noticed. Sirius hands remained at his sides, as the girl began to touch him all over, her hands running all over his torso and into his robes. When she pulled away from his lips to attack his neck, Remus saw that Sirius’ eyes were still open, and Remus could see the note of panic in them from across the room.

And no one was doing anything.

Remus continued watching with a sick knot in his stomach. Torn between his pride and his fear of actually speaking to Sirius again, and the panicking protective pull at his heart, he felt frozen in his spot.

Then, the girl started tugging Sirius by the wrist towards the common room exit, while he stumbled behind her. As soon as they were out of sight, Remus moved without even thinking about it. He darted through the crowd after them, barely breathing.

As soon as he left the sweaty, loud common room and entered the drafty, echoey hallway he heard the girl. She giggled seductive taunts, not seeming to care that Sirius offered nothing in return.

Remus cut them off.

“Go back to your house, and leave him with me.” The girl scoffed and visibly sized Remus up, but before she could say anything, Remus spoke again. “He’s drunk out of his mind, and is in no state to give consent. He hasn't even said a word to you. Leave him alone.” “That’s- that’s not true!” The girl insisted haughtily. “He kept saying saying something about the Moon or Moony or some shit like that. He’s perfectly capable of talking.”

Remus glared at her with such intensity that she was gone within seconds, and he was left to contemplate the bomb she had just dropped.

Moony.

Remus looked at his friend then, and almost lost all composure.

Sirius had dropped to his knees and tears were streaming down his face.

“Sirius….”

“She… she can have me, I don’t care. Come- come back, girl!” Sirius cried, registering everything minutes late.

Remus had never seen Sirius actually cry. He looked so utterly broken in that moment that Remus could do nothing but drop to his knees in front of his friend to wrap him in a hug. As Remus caged Sirius, head in his solid arms Sirius’ cheek thudded again Remus’ chest, his arms coming up around Remus’ back immediately. His fingers pressed against Remus’ shoulder blades in a steely grip.

Remus brushed Sirius’ wildly unkempt black hair out of his face, tracing the shell of his ear as he did so. “Shhh, Sirius. Hey, what’s wrong” he tried to soothe the crying boy.

“I- I i just” he couldn’t find his words.

“Sirius, I’ve got you it’s okay”

At this Sirius sat back in his heels, pulling out of the embrace, distress emanating from all of his features. “You don’t though, Rem. You decidedly don’t have me. You opted out of that.”

“Sirius… I-“ Remus’ voice filled with uncertainty. He didn’t know what to say. He stared hard at the ground.

“Remus, it’s okay.” At this, Remus looked up in shock. “I know why you don’t want me. It’s okay. I don’t- I don’t deserve someone like you.You should've just let me go off and have sex with that girl. Just like the other times. She-“

“Sirius, what do you mean the other times?”

Sirius’ face crumpled in shame. “None of that sex meant anything. It never has. I don’t… what you said before- it’s true. I do act like… like a slut and I do all of this drunk sex but… but it’s not because- it’s… I”

“Sirius….”

“No Remus, listen. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you feel like our kiss was stupid and meaningless and like that Ravenclaw girl. I didn’t even want to kiss her.”

“I know you didn’t.” “Remus. Our kiss wasn't like that. I wouldn't have kissed you in the tower if I hadn't meant it. If I hadn’t wanted it.”

When Remus didn’t respond, Sirius dropped his head heavily into his palms, his fingers curling to press anxiously into his forehead. Remus’ heart pounded dramatically in his chest until he felt that it would beat all the way into his throat. “Wh- what do you want, Sirius?”

Disheartened, and thoroughly embarrassed, Sirius didn’t look up, but Remus could hear him mutter, “you,” and that was all he really needed to give into the temptation throbbing in the hollow base of his neck. Remus leaned forward and reached out, finding Sirius’ jaw with a slightly shaking hand. At his touch, Sirius dropped his own hands and looked up, making electrifying eye contact with the boy kneeling in front of him. Without so much as a whisper Remus reached out with his other hand, to fully encompass Sirius’ jaw, before leaning forward to kiss him softly and slowly.

Sirius didn't hesitate. One of his hands immediately tangled in the hair at the nape of Remus’ neck, and as he rose to his knees to press his body against the other boy, his other hand wrapped around Remus’ waist, securing their torsos together.

Sirius tasted like alcohol and Remus tasted like chocolate and pot.

They somehow managed to stand up only breaking their kiss momentarily. Remus’ spectacularly long legs really kicked in then, and having to arch his neck and back ever so slightly to reach Remus made Sirius deliriously happy.

Sirius found himself stumbling backwards towards whatever wall was nearest as Remus gently pushed him, without ever pulling away enough for either of them to say anything. After an imperceptible amount of time, they stopped kissing.

Sirius didn't move his hands from the places they had claimed on Remus’ back underneath his shirt, but after a moment of just looking at each other, and before saying anything, they hugged. It was tighter and warmer than any hug Sirius had ever received, and it contradicted everything his mother had ever taught him, and he loved it.

When they pulled away they both spoke at the same time.

“You’ve been smoking pot without me?”

“You’re even smaller than you look, you know.”

Sirius gasped and sucker punched Remus in the arm, but Remus only grinned and shied away from the blow. “It’s been a pretty shitty few weeks and you didn't exactly seem up to sharing a blunt.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Well what about you? You didn't want to share a blunt either.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “You’re wrong, you know.” He shifted his weight forward, supporting himself with one hand on the wall by Sirius’ head. Sirius was quick to tangle his fingers in Remus’ other hand. He arched his back off the wall to kiss Remus again, and Remus indulged him for a moment, before pulling away to rest their forehead together.

“Sirius, can we talk?”

When he didn't let Sirius kiss him again, Sirius sighed and nodded and hurried off down a familiar corridor without a word.

[dawnpil]

corona borealis

summary: you and sungjin have been planning this road trip basically since you met each other, but it gets a little hard to concentrate on the grand canyon when you’ve got someone like sungjin standing next to you. pairing: sungjin x reader genre: friends to lovers, fluff notes: secret santa gift for @svngjins !! merry belated christmas and happy holidays!! i hope you enjoy it! 

sunday

sungjin’s got the windows down and your playlist blasting when he pulls up to your house. you kiss your mom on the cheek, throw your bags in the back of sungjin’s truck, and hop into the passenger seat to grin at him.

“ready?” he calls over the music. you give him a thumbs-up in the middle of pulling your shoes off, and he backs out of your driveway with a matching grin. as you leave the neighborhood you remember the story you’d been saving to tell him, and his laugh matches the sunshine gleaming off the hood of the truck.

the first hour and a half you drive sunday is filled with stories and a debate about who could actually beat who on rainbow road; sungjin appeases you by saying you’ll have to play a few rounds on jae’s console when you get to school, and you let it go. once you get onto i-40 it’s a straight shot to the grand canyon, so you settle back curled up with your arm resting on the open window, the wind whipping your hair into your eyes as it trails through your fingers.

the conversation dies off naturally after about the three-hour mark, but you and sungjin have been planning this road trip for years, so you prepared for it and pull out your nintendo to pick up where you left off in sun and moon. sungjin laughs at you when you yell encouragement at your pokemon during the battles, but he’s smiling softly as you look up to pout and tell him to stop, and maybe your heart skips a beat.

or maybe it doesn’t, you tell yourself sternly, and you grit your teeth as you focus on the trainer battle. you have no business falling in love with your best friend, so you shove the feeling away and sing softly to the music still blaring from the speakers and refuse to look at sungjin for a bit.

somewhere in arizona you find a rest stop and switch places, and while you’re waiting for him to get out of the bathroom you fiddle with the rearview mirror and sigh. it’s going to be a long week if you let yourself consider your feelings too much, and you’ve been wanting to make this trip almost since you met freshman year, so you start the car as sungjin jogs back over to you.

when you get back on the highway you focus on the black ribbon road and try to count cacti to avoid glancing over at sungjin where he sits in the passenger seat humming and continuing your game for you. it’s something you always do, share the games: when you’d found out over christmas freshman year that he was starting to go back through all the games you’d agreed to play them together, each taking the ds for a week and making whatever progress you could between classes and assignments.

younghyun says it’s a good metaphor for your friendship, all easy give and take and light-hearted competition. you’re inclined to agree, but you wish feelings were as easy to beat as boss battles, because maybe then you wouldn’t be so conflicted when you realize the cheap motel room only has one bed, and maybe you could sleep better curled up with sungjin’s arm thrown over your stomach.

for now, though, you sigh and examine his peaceful features and try to ignore the stupid desire to brush his dark hair out of his eyes and kiss him until it’s time to leave in the morning.

monday

the thing about the grand canyon that you hadn't really considered is that you’re not the biggest fan of heights. other visitors are similarly hesitant to walk out onto the glass bridge over the canyon, but sungjin laughs.

“you’re the one who wanted to do this,” he says, a few feet away from you with nothing but glass under his feet. “it’s perfectly safe, you know that.”

you wrinkle your nose. “i know, it’s just—intrusive thoughts and all that.”

he nods, all too familiar with your active imagination and its role in the things you hesitate about. “come on,” he says, and then he’s at your side, lacing your fingers together, and tugging you toward the bridge.

you pause, just for a second; it’s not like this casual physical contact is odd, for the two of you, not when your habit of holding hands walking between classes and sharing the big chairs in the library has given you the reputation of a couple that’s been together for three years. you just hadn't quite expected the touch, but you let him pull you out onto the glass and try to get over your initial flare of panic.

“so what kind of stuff would make this hard to build?” he asks, running a hand over the handrail, and you relax. he’s trying to take your mind off the height, and of course he knows exactly how to do it.

“loads! i mean, all bridges have to deal with loads but in this case there’s a significant amount more wind load than most places. and with the way it loops back on itself dealing with the dead load gets more complicated, since it’s not quite as easy as when you can support it from both sides.” you glance around, examining the structure, and the combination of analyzing the engineering and the comfort of his calloused fingers grounds you until the last of your anxiety slips away.

you stay in the park for lunch, take countless pictures to put on instagram later, and early afternoon you’re on the road again, sungjin’s pleased smile as warm as the arizona sun. it’s too hot for anything other than tank-tops, and you do everything possible not to get distracted by the definition of his arms as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the open window. he’s gotten tanned, over the summer, the florida beach sun kissing his skin the way you’re trying to tell yourself you don’t want to, and it’s beautiful.

dinner’s at a tiny diner you find somewhere across the border into new mexico, spent debating the team to use for the final boss battle in sun and moon, the one sungjin will play when you finish eating. it’s your turn to drive for the rest of the evening, and when sungjin finally wins and you nearly swerve off the road as you cheer you both laugh, the warmth in your chest nothing to do with the heat of the climate.

just over the texas border you stop for the night, pull onto the shoulder of the highway and set up sleeping bags in the bed of the truck.

out here, so far from any cities, the sky stretches forever. there are more stars than you think you’ve ever seen, with so little light pollution to block them out. sungjin points out the constellations he remembers from introduction to astronomy until you’re yawning more than paying attention to him, his low voice lulling you to sleep.

you roll onto your side to see him already facing you, and your breath catches in your throat: his eyes reflect the sky, or maybe they just hold universes in them. either way you’re struck by how beautiful he is, with his star-filled eyes and his smile softer than silk when he notices you staring.

fuck it, you think. if you’re going to fall in love with a friend, it might as well be the one who’s been by your side the longest, the one who knows you inside and out, the one who knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. if it has to be anyone, there’s nobody better than him.

tuesday

the thing about park sungjin is that he’s exactly the sort of boy you’re bound to fall in love with.

wonpil likes to tease you about the way you list the exact same traits when asked to describe your ideal significant other that you do when someone asks you what sungjin’s like, and that probably should have tipped you off about this happening sooner, but here you are flicking glances at him as he navigates the austin streets, your breath still stuck in your chest from last night. the realization is driving you crazy; you’ve texted wonpil you need to talk with him at some point today, and the second sungjin parks the truck in dowoon’s driveway you tumble out of the car and try to breathe, desperate to find air that isn’t filled with sungjin’s sunshine and familiar coffee order.

you look up to see sungjin watching you with concern in his eyes, but you wave him off and burst through the unlocked door to give dowoon an overly enthusiastic birthday hug and return jae’s dab. younghyun drags you into the kitchen to dig into the tacos they’d gotten when you texted that you’d run into traffic near the city limits and would be late, and in the bustle of six college kids and food you breathe a little easier. sungjin’s too distracted by jae talking his ear off about a new song he wrote over the summer to fill your space like he does when it’s just the two of you and the truck and the open highway, and somewhere between throwing presents at dowoon and yelling at him to open them and settling in for a ghibli marathon wonpil tugs you into dowoon’s bedroom and sits you on the bed.

“you wanted to talk?”

“i think i’m in love with sungjin.”

“you think?” wonpil raises an eyebrow. “sis, we know. took you long enough to realize.”

“no, like—” you sigh, run a hand through your hair, or try. you brushed it in the morning, but the wind has tangled it hopelessly again, and the knots stop your fingers before they get very far. “like, i’ve always loved sungjin, but now i’m in love with him.”

wonpil looks like he wants to reply sarcastically, but he looks at you again and something in your face makes him think otherwise, because he softens. “what do you want to do about it?”

“i don’t—i don’t wanna ruin our friendship or anything, so maybe nothing?”

“fer,” he sighs, “that’s maybe the worst idea i’ve ever heard, and i was there when jae suggested younghyun should just steal knives from the dining hall and tape them to his shoes and try to skate on the pond in october.”

you frown. “why the worst idea?”

“well, i have it on good authority that he likes you as well, and also unrequited love and the resulting sadness and jealousy and struggles with physical intimacy like you have is the quickest way to ruin a friendship, so regardless of his feelings you should probably just tell him.”

“yeah but like. how do i tell him?” you grab at wonpil’s hands, clutch his slender fingers like you’re back on the glass bridge above the grand canyon and they’re the handrail. you may as well be back there, since the idea of telling sungjin you’re falling in love with him makes your stomach drop just as much as imagining slipping over the edge of the bridge and tumbling into the canyon.

when the two of you emerge from the bedroom sungjin lifts the blanket for you to curl up at his side and wraps an arm around you, and even though he’s clearly curious he doesn’t ask, just offers you the bowl of popcorn. you smile hesitantly, take a handful, and resign yourself to figuring out how to tell your best friend the one thing you find most likely to mess up the easy dynamic you’ve established.

wednesday

wednesday is just a driving day. yesterday, as you got close to dowoon’s house, you got tired of the noise and the wind and rolled the windows up, but today the air in the car is too thick for you to think about anything but keeping the windows down, your knees tucked up to your chest as you press your back to the car door and let your head tip back into the wind.

several times sungjin looks over like he wants to say something, but you close your eyes and let the breeze tangle your hair and pretend to nap, and then when it’s your turn to drive after lunch you concentrate on the road.

you stop for gas in a tiny town in arkansas and sungjin grabs snacks from the convenience store, and five minutes later you’re back on the road pretending not to be affected while sungjin feeds you chips the way you’ve done for years when one of you has your hands full.

tennessee has more trees than texas, and you park in their shade when you stop for the night. it’s impossible to ignore sungjin when he’s lying right next to you in the bed of the truck, one arm sprawled into your space so that his calloused fingers brush your elbow as you curl your arms into your chest, and as you slip into sleep you give up, so that your dreams are full of his rough voice and sunshine smile and eyes brimming with stars.

thursday

you’re starting to think you drastically overestimated your willingness to sit in a car for ten hours at a time by the time you make it into ohio thursday afternoon. you’re antsy, twisting in your seat every few minutes, and you’ve abandoned your books and the ds to the backseat after you realized you weren’t going to be able to focus on them for longer than thirty seconds.

finally you reach over and crank up the music and start singing, let yourself breathe only because you need to in order to sing.

the playlist reaches a queen song and sungjin joins in, harmonizing the gravel in his voice to the playfulness of freddie mercury’s. you falter and fall silent, letting his singing fill the car; you’ve always adored it, and the familiarity of his chocolate tone stops your shifting in your seat so you can take it in.

for a little he sings seriously, but by the second chorus he starts exaggerating his falsetto and making weird faces, and you pull your phone up and take a video, a laugh tugging at your lips for what feels like the first time in days. the ridiculousness continues for another two and a half songs, until he gets too into the performance and swerves a little in the lane.

the sudden motion surprises the two of you into silence and you blink at him, wide-eyed, as he grips the wheel and makes a face and readjusts, and there’s a beat and then you crack up, the tension of the day bleeding away.

you pull onto junhyeok’s campus early evening, follow the texted directions to his dorm, and yank him into a hug when he meets you outside. he’d transferred after freshman year, and you’d all tried to keep in contact but it was hard, when there was always so much going on and he’d started making new friends. seeing him again isn’t necessarily awkward, but it isn’t quite as comfortable as it had been when you were a group of seven sprawled on the grass of the quad outside your dorm.

he takes you to dinner at a little pizza place just off campus and he and sungjin talk music for a bit before he sits back and turns an observant eye on the way you’re trying not to stare at sungjin’s wind-blown, beautiful dishevelment.

when sungjin’s brushing his teeth in the bathroom and you’re setting up sleeping bags on junhyeok’s floor junhyeok grins at you. “finally realized your feelings for him?”

you stutter over a response before sighing. “wonpil said i need to tell him, but i have no idea how.”

���just don’t make a fuss about it,” junhyeok says. “let it happen. the two of you are as easy as breathing, and i doubt this will change anything.”

before you can reply sungjin walks back in, and you turn to straighten your pillow, mulling over junhyeok’s advice.

friday

you get up early to drive to cleveland, and sungjin trips his way out of the truck when you get to the rock and roll hall of fame. he lights up, inside, grabs your hand and tugs you around the exhibits. with how much he knows you think he may as well be a worker at the museum, and one of the actual workers seems to share that idea, grinning when sungjin tells you about how stevie nicks believes she was guillotined in a past life.

the displays are fascinating, but you’re more captivated by the glimmer in sungjin’s eyes and the excitement in his voice, and you spend considerably more time memorizing his face than you do looking at the displays.

after lunch you go to the zoo, and it’s your turn to get excited as you point out animals from brazil, taking countless pictures of the sloths and tree frogs that aren’t common near where you live but are nevertheless a link to home. sungjin follows you as you hurry from enclosure to enclosure, taking pictures for reference later and already planning several drawings.

you make sungjin pose by the bears, laughing, because your group has a running joke about him and your teddiursa is named after him for a reason, and early evening you link hands as you walk back out of the zoo. you haven’t forgotten the awkwardness in holding his hand with your newfound feelings, but you’re determined not to let your hesitation ruin such an incredible day. the warmth of his hands is somewhat uncomfortable in the cleveland humidity but it’s familiar and grounding, and there’s something soft in both of your smiles as you head back to junhyeok’s dorm for the night.

saturday

there’s something bittersweet in getting up on saturday.

it’s the last day of the trip, the end of this weird in-between of you and sungjin existing together with nothing else but the truck and the highway, and no matter how tense you’ve been it’s still been nice to spend time with just him as best friends, without the rest of the group butting in and being constantly chaotic. and the road trip was something you’d wanted to do before graduating, so checking it off the list feels like one step closer to packing up your dorm for the last time and having to figure out where to go from there without the security of time to figure it out, so there’s something a little terrifying in the thought of arriving on campus in the evening.

regardless you say goodbye to junhyeok around noon and hit the road again, coffee steaming in the cupholders as you curl up with a book. today is quieter, the two of you tired from the adventures yesterday, but silence between you has never been a bad thing. it’s just as comfortable as talking nonstop, and you relax after an hour or two, sungjin singing just louder than the familiar rumble of the truck under your feet.

you’re the one driving when you pull up to the drive-through window for dinner, your surroundings finally things you recognize. you’ll get to campus in maybe fifteen minutes, but you’re not quite ready to finish your trip, so you park in the restaurant lot and suggest eating in the bed of the truck. sungjin climbs one step further to sit on the roof, pulling you up with him so that you’re sitting with your heels knocking against the back window.

the stars aren’t quite as visible here as they were in texas, but you can still see ursa major when sungjin points it out.

while he’s busy staring up at the sky, taking a bite of his french fries, you take the time to look at him instead, committing to memory the shape of his jawline and the way his eyes gleam dark under the streetlights.

“beautiful,” he says.

“sure is,” you agree, and he turns to you before you’re able to look away.

he pauses for a moment and then smiles softly and sets his food aside. you don’t quite have time to blink and question him before he’s wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, and kissing you. there’s a moment of shock as his chapped lips fit themselves over yours before you realize what’s going on and then it’s instinctual to reach up to cup his cheek and return the kiss. for a few breaths there’s only your heart beating against your ribs and the flutter of his lashes against your cheek and the warmth of his hand through your shirt, and you think this must be what heaven is.

he draws back far more quickly than you’d like, laughs when he sees the disappointment in your eyes.

“i just—” you sigh. “i can’t believe you beat me to that.”

he smiles, gentle. “is that what you’ve been worrying about all week?” when you nod he takes your hand, laces your fingers with his with more care than you’ve ever felt. “you can relax now, then,” he says.

he leans back in to kiss you again and you think this must be like kissing starlight, because he’s nothing if not a celestial being. in two days you’ll have freshmen to look after and he’ll be preparing the hall per his job as an ra, but for now it’s just you and the star you get to cradle in your hands and pull ever closer, and that’s enough for now.

[beckzorz]

PREMONITIONS (3/5)

or, Adventures Adjacent to a Six-Year-Old Seer

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Words: 1457 Summary: On Halloween, your clairvoyant niece leads you straight into Bucky Barnes. It could not have gone worse. Warning(s) for part 3: None A/N: Happy Monday! I hope your week is off to a great start :-)

Part 1 | Part 2

Part 3

You shove your hands deeper in your coat pockets and glower at the shiny red heart balloons tied to the sandwich board outside the cafe. They were advertising a lovebug special—two medium coffees and two heart-shaped cookies at an unfair discount. Two cookies would be nice, but buying two coffees for yourself was beyond even you. You hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and your Sunday coffee habit had become a daily necessity. The line, meanwhile, is going at a snail’s pace. If it doesn’t speed up, you’ll have to rely on the crap they offer at work.

You give up after another few minutes and duck out of line with an aggrieved huff. The people behind you shuffle forward, ever vigilant to keep their spot.

One day you’ll get yourself a coffee maker. This is getting ridiculous. And expensive.

Your visit to the hospital back around Halloween had, by some miracle, been covered by insurance. Mostly. But between the deductible and the copays on physical therapy, you’d gone through your holiday bonus in no time at all. Back before shit hit the fan, you’d been dreaming of a cabin in the woods, a fireplace, s’mores. Books and blankets too. But a cozy getaway would have to wait for you to earn back your vacation time.

In the meantime, all you could do was stifle a yawn as you headed into work. You were over a month into tax season, and your department was already in a fine frenzy. There had been some mishaps last spring—a few managers had been fired—and now you and your coworkers were paying the price. Your manager ambushes even before you can sneak to the kitchen for coffee.

The whole day is like that. You jump from one urgent task to another until your eyelids feel like sandpaper.

The only good thing that happens is that you get out early enough to beat most of the dinner crowd at the cafe.

The sign for the damn couple’s special is horribly tempting. Sugar sounds amazing right now… And it is a good deal. Maybe you could share it!

You turn impulsively to the person behind you. “Wanna split the—”

Your jaw drops. Behind you is none other than Bucky Barnes.

“You!” you sputter.

“Nice to see you too.” Bucky’s tilted grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. You step out of line, too bewildered to even contemplate ordering a drink.

“Saw you ducking in, thought I’d say hi,” he says. “I just got back.”

“Back from where?”

Bucky shrugs. There’s a stray bit of hair that’s escaped from his bun; he brushes it impatiently back. “Just… away. You look good.”

You blink and glance down. Your pea coat is hardly the most flattering thing you own. “Uh, thanks.”

“I mean, considering you got shot.” At that, the little grin on Bucky’s face sneaks up into his crinkling eyes.

“Oh, that.” You tilt your head with a smirk of your own. “Better or worse than Halloween?”

Bucky’s rich laugh fills you with delight. “I’d have to think about that,” he says. He tilts his head and studies you. “The lighting wasn’t this good, but the black looked nice.”

“Wow,” you deadpan, hand over your heart. “One might swoon.” You bite your lip in an effort to keep a straight face, but Bucky’s eyes are sparkling and you can’t help but break into a giggle.

“So,” he says once you’ve composed yourself, “how’s the small one?” He puts a hand out at roughly Gemma’s height and gives you a significant look.

Your heart drops. Gemma. Right. This isn’t about you. You step back and stuff your hands into your pockets. “Oh, she’s fine. Nothing ever happened—but you must already know that.”

“Sure,” Bucky says. There’s a slight furrow in his brow. “But she’s a cute kid. I was wondering how she was doing. Being like that is… not always fun.”

“She is very cute.” You rock back on your heels and worry the inside of your cheek. “I mean… she seems normal. I don’t think she gets it, you know? And that’s… yeah.”

Bucky lets out a slow breath between his teeth. “Yeah. Yeah.”

You look at each other, not saying another word. There’s no need. You know Bucky understands the enormity of the situation. A child, barely more than a toddler—practically still the size of a toddler—with powers they didn’t understand, let alone realize they have? How could it possibly end well?

“Well, she’s got you,” Bucky says at last.

“Yes she does,” you answer fiercely. Sharp affection cuts into you, and you look away to keep Bucky from seeing the sudden tears in your eyes. Your gaze lands on the bakery case. The heart-shaped cookies are prominent in the display. “Man I could use some sugar.”

Bucky snorts. Whoops—you hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“What, I’m not sweet enough for ya? Here,” he says, and he guides you to the register and looks at you expectantly.

You blink at him, then at the disinterested cashier. “Oh, uh, a medium coffee. And hell, one of those heart cookies, please.”

“Double that.” Bucky pulls out his wallet before you even think to reach into your purse. “I got it,” he tells you.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you murmur, bumping his shoulder with yours.

You try to look nonchalant when the cashier reads back the order as the lovebug special, but your face is warm. You do not glance at Bucky, though you can feel his eyes on your face. Sure, fine, he’s gorgeous and sarcastic and smart, but all the banter is just set dressing. The real reason he’s talking to you is Gemma.

Ugh. You screw up your mouth and look away. Gemma’s the only reason you encountered Bucky Barnes at all. Resenting a six-year old is a really, really bad look, but now that you’ve spent time with Bucky, you wish you’d met under different circumstances. No guns, no psychics, no children. Just two consenting adults.

And while you’re dreaming, might as well hope for some goddamned privacy.

“Here you go,” Bucky says. He holds out your coffee and cookie, already taking a bite of his own. They’ve given him a blue-frosted cookie, but the frosting isn’t half so bright as his eyes.

“Thanks.” You take his offering and turn away before he sees the flush in your cheeks. You have got to get control of yourself. No one’s eyes should be that distracting.

You step outside and take a bracing breath. It’s cold after the cozy cocoon of the cafe. At least the paper cup in your hand is hot against your skin.

“Don’t you have gloves?” Bucky asks.

“They’re in my other coat.” You take a scalding sip and wince. The liquid burns your throat, but warmth sweeps through you as the caffeine settles.

You glance at Bucky, who’s frowning down at his own hands and plucking at his gloves.

“Oh my god, Bucky, I’m fine,” you blurt. “Keep your gloves!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bucky blinks, pauses, and studies you warily as he takes a quick sip. “No insult intended.”

After his amusement at your joke about insult and injury back in October; you feel confident that he doesn’t mean any harm now. Still, you can’t help a little retaliatory snark. “All good, Sergeant.”

His eyes narrow on you. You keep your expression vague and pleasant until you can’t help a giggle from escaping. Bucky relaxes and edges closer as a clump of people pass by.

“It’s good to see you,” he says.

“You too,” you reply.

“Nice to see you fully upright, too,” he adds, and you swat his shoulder with a roll of your eyes.

“Just for that I’m going to flatten you again next time,” you joke.

“Well,” Bucky says, eyes twinkling, “I can think of worse fates. See you around, ma’am.” He shoots you one final breathtaking smile and ambles off, leaving you speechless in his wake.

“God I hope so,” you whisper.

He disappears from view before it occurs to you that you should have just asked the guy out. Now you might have to deal with three more months without seeing him again. No banter, no blue eyes, no sexy smirks. No lovebug special.

You head for home, fuming at your temporarily loss of brain functioning. Typical—he distracts you so much you can’t even get yourself to make sure you would see each other before the summertime, if at all. Of course, maybe come summertime you’d see him at the beach, in a bathing suit…

You flush and bite your tongue to contain your grin. Now there’s a sight you’d be glad to see.

God willing, one day you would.

Read Part 4 here!

Tagging @kentuckybarnes @noshitstark @fortheloveofjbbarnes @sgtjbuccky@bitsandbobsandstuff @buckitybarnes @the-whitewolfie @the-canary@buckybarneshairpullingkink @bambamwolf87 @moonbeambucky @itsbuckysworld @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @thechaoticargonaut @sebstanwassup @australianhorrorstory @lovingllamareview @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety  @dontneedbiologytoadopt @angryteapot @snowflkedivergent @amoonagedaydreamer @moonstruckhargrove @vanillanestor @hey-liz-hey @justahopingwriter @whitewolfbabylon @wishcommandress @susmita121 @kat-lives @tarithenurse @seasidespecter

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[aspiratinganxiety]

Happy Birthday, Darlin’

Happy 20th, Sweetheart. 

Sleepy drabble with an inexperienced 20 year old Jason Todd. ‘Nuff said, right? 

Super Fluff reader insert fic. 

Enjoy!

The lamp in the second story window of your home is lit. The buttery glow of the little antique seems to reach out through the dreary October morning and burrow down into his chest. Heat kindles in the tender spot, and he smiles to himself as a swell of joy rushes through him. He’s dizzy with it, tickled to feel that a flush of warmth has made his cold skin prickle all the way from his head to his toes.

You left the light on for him. It is an assent to his presence. When you want uninterrupted sleep or space, you switch your lamp off. The two of you settled on this method of indication after your roommates began lodging complaints about the odd hours Jason came knocking. Because he sticks to a relatively nocturnal schedule, early AM visitation is his most common time-frame. So early, actually, that it could still be considered extremely late from the night before.

When the lamp in your window is on, he easily scales the ramshackle siding of the 3-bedroom you share with 5 people and slides in through the unlocked framework. It’s tricky for him to do so quietly this morning. He’s eager, and the chill air is thick with the kind of moisture that doesn’t have the altitude to be rain, nor the commitment to become a proper embankment of dense Gotham fog. He slips twice, and knocks himself a good one in the shoulder against the gutter as he struggles to keep his boots in place on the slick shingles of the overhang beneath your window. He makes it though, stripping off his muddy boots and heavy jacket so as not to trail any mess and mindful not to break the delicate reading light that acts as a literal beacon of consent which allows him such liberties as creeping into your bedroom.

The swollen, fond feeling inside of him redoubles when his eyes fall on you. He is still for a moment, gaze wandering from the nip in your waist up over the soft curve of your hip. He always takes a few seconds to admire you as you sleep. To have the intimate space of your bedroom offered to him, to be so trusted as to be welcomed into such a space while you are unconscious...

Every time, he relishes the opportunity to enjoy the faith and consideration that you extend to him by allowing these ludicrous early visits. 

You always sleep half-curled on your side. Even swathed in a full comforter and an additional plush throw blanket, he can still make out parts of your figure which he admires. As he approaches your bedside, he reaches back into the pocket of his jeans, retrieving the present he’s carried with him all night through patrol. 

You stir before he moves to wake you, and so he forgoes gently climbing into bed. He drops his weight behind you, pulling you back against him. The blankets unravel as he weasels his free hand beneath them to rub up and down your side. He nuzzles his face into your hair and hums a low, wordless greeting while you draw in a few loud, lazy lungfuls of air. 

“Mmph,” you groan, tongue clumsy from sleep. It is a whiny, inarticulate sound, and it takes you a while to gather enough of your mind to form words. “Your hands are cold,” you say, flipping some of the blankets back over him. “So is your nose.”

You thread your fingers through his, dragging his hand up over your chest and tucking it beneath your chin. Doing so effectively tightens his arm around your middle, and you snuggle back toward him with a sweet, drowsy lack of inhibition. Every part of him is cold, you realize. Sort of damp too, at least his hair and his cargo pants. You nestle down against the hand at your throat, worried that he might get sick but too tired to verbally fuss. 

Jason procrastinates until you doze off again, soaking in your easy warmth and affection while his other hand reflexively tightens in a pattern over your gift. He’s got it under your pillow now, having unthinkingly helped pose the both of you into your common shared sleeping arrangement. Nervous energy keeps him from resting as the doubts he’s had all week about his gift selection begin to plague his mind with a keener ferocity, now that the time to actually give it to you is here. 

“Babe,” he whispers just above your ear. “Baby?” He gives you a firm squeeze before beginning to jostle you back and forth between his arm and torso. “Wake up, okay? I’ve got something for you.”

You take another one of your deep breaths, face scrunching into a malcontent contortion. “M’wake,” you mumble, clearly not. 

He gives an airy chuckle, pressing a firm kiss to your temple before hauling the both of you upright. You hiss, fighting to remain within the toasty, comforting blankets. When you’re good and vertical with at least one eye peeped open, Jason maneuvers so as to be directly in front of you. 

“Hey,” he grins, feeling suddenly foolish and a bit shy. You don’t look particularly happy, and he wonders if he should have allowed you to sleep. It’s your day, after all. 

You respond simply, clearly somewhat confused. “Hey?” 

Your voice is tender and soft, having worked through the gravelly portion of misuse and developed into a delicate, almost musical murmur. The sound gives him pause, and he goes back in to press another kiss to your hot, flushed cheek. He stays close for a moment, embracing you with only his nearness and not with his arms. When he leans back down on his haunches, he extends the bundle in his hand. 

“I wanted to be the first to tell you and, ya’ know, the first one to give you a present.” You’re really smiling now, both beautiful eyes wide and sparkling in the warm lambency from the little lamp in the corner. “It’s like... four o’clock in the morning, so I’m pretty sure I get to be the first one who says it.” He grips your chin with the fingertips of one hand, tilting your face up and planting a proper kiss over your lips, heedless of morning breath. “Happy Birthday, Darlin’.”

He says this while your noses are still touching, eye to eye and smiling like the devil on a stormy Sunday morning. You go sheepish looking at him when he makes faces like that, with his eyes so bright and his teeth flashing all white and sharp in just the right places. Demurring, all too aware of the stale heat emanating from your tongue and suddenly quite nervous about something like morning breath, you drop your head and set the crest of your cheek gently against his jaw before moving back.

“Thank you, baby,” you mumble, leaning back against your headboard and plucking at the plain, hearty paper and butcher’s twine he used to wrap your present. “You’re definitely the first one to wish me a happy birthday on my actual birthday, for sure.”

It is a book, as you thought it’d be. This one is a well-worn paperback that looks to be of a scholastic persuasion. It’s cover is creased and torn, baring a wild artistic image that you recognize as an engraving of William Blake. Your head cocks to the side as you gently look the battered work over for a title. It’s on the spine, and you shoot Jason a curious look when you can’t quite make out what it says because of the deterioration and damage done by copious readings. 

“Blake?” you question, wondering what in the world you were supposed to do with this gift.

Jason beams, practically puffing his chest he’s so proud that you recognized the artwork on the cover. “Yeah!” 

“Uh, I don’t know much about Blake,” you confess, turning the book back and forth in your palms. “I mostly know his art and, well, the tiger poem.” 

“Yeah..." he says, enthusiasm completely wilted. His sentences become halting as the room fills with the combined discomfort and awkward confusion of both you and your boyfriend. “I uh, I was kinda’ hoping you didn’t know much about him. He’s one of my favorites. Of the romantics, anyway. Really more like a proto-romantic. And he's not like my favorite, favorite author. Just a good one. Sorta’. He’s weird.” 

Silence grows as you try to process your reaction to the gift. It is very early, mostly the middle of the night, after all. You’re not entirely sure what you think of it. You are grateful though, grateful that he thought of you and that he was so excited to wish you a happy birthday. 

You catch his eye, and hug the book to your chest with a small smile. “Thank you,” you say, leaning forward a bit and deepening your expression so as to properly communicate your gratitude.

He nods, still obviously disappointed and perturbed. Just as you are about to reach forward to offer him a comforting touch, he extends his hand and gestures for the book. With only a bit of hesitation, you relinquish it back to him.

“This uh, this was the first book that Alfred bought for me after I moved into the manner.”

“Oh!” you say, his context suddenly tripling your interest in the paperback.

Jason rarely spoke about his past. You knew a rough outline of everything that had gone on, but certainly no details. 

He doesn’t look up at you, cracking the book open and petting some of the pages with the gentlest brush of his fingertips. “Yeah. Alfred and sometimes, well actually, pretty often Bruce too... they’d read me poems from this book. I made them read it over and over again. Always a poem from The Songs of Innocence and then they’d flip all the way back to the back and find the corresponding work to the first poem in The Songs of Experience. I hated it when they didn’t read one right after the other, even though the collections were published separately. I felt like they were skipping a chapter or something if the poems weren’t read together.”

You don’t know if it’s the somewhat stunned expression on your face or the silence that presses him to explain, but you are enchanted as he continues on.

“Like ‘The Tyger’ for example, it has a companion poem called ‘The Lamb.' They were written to contextualize one another and question... well God, basically. Intelligent design. ‘The Lamb’ focuses on purity, childhood innocence, and guileless trust in the watchful design of God. ‘The Tyger’ though, the one from The Songs of Experience, it details the hitches and complications in believing that the same God from ‘The Lamb’ would create such good, delicate, innocent creatures and then force them to live in the same world as monsters and fear and man-eaters.” 

“Wow.” You give the book another sly glance as it rests in his hands, feeling that you perhaps underestimated the contents and, certainly, that you underestimated the emotional connection Jason has to it. 

He chuckles again, humorlessly this time, still not looking at you. “Yeah. I stole it out of Bruce’s penthouse over a year ago. He um- he had a bunch of stuff from when I was a kid moved there after... what happened.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but your eyes find a way to go even wider. Jason never, never talks to you about that.

Never.

You learned about it from Tim. And the newspaper, of course.

Jason wants to shove the book down his throat. This is the first birthday in your relationship, and he ruined it with a dumb gift because he’s a dumb idiot. When he saw your face, looking down at the stupid freaking poetry book with zero surprise or delight, it’s like he started word vomiting. He can’t get it to quit, and he can’t look at you while this comes out of his mouth. 

“I thought he moved it there to, I dunno’, forget about me? Keep me off of his mind. Dick told me though,” Jason pauses to take a deep breath, obviously getting overwhelmed. “He told me a while after I broke in and saw so much of my stuff in there that Bruce had uh- he’d gotten real mean after. That he couldn’t be around anyone. Not even Alfred. He moved out of the manor with my things, and he kept them at the penthouse to visit them or something, I guess? It was a weird explanation. This is all weird. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten you a newer copy or maybe just-”

“No!” You lurch forward, snatching the book out of his hand and wrapping your arms around him. “No,” you say more calmly, touched beyond belief that he would give you what amounted to a piece of himself as a gift. 

“I love it. It’s perfect, and I love it.” 

He puts his weight behind the hug, folding around you and squeezing so firmly that your breath is short. “I love you,” he grumbles into your hair, still unhappy with himself for derailing this gesture so thoroughly. 

“I love you too,” you say, tapping at his elbow as a request for him to lighten his hold. He does, and you lean back with an infectious, dazzling smile. You hold the book up, eager and no longer self-conscious or sleepy. “Will you read me some of the poems?”

“Uh,” his face goes bright red, the blush running all the way to the tips of his ears. “I don’t really know how well I can read aloud, babe. But, I mean, it’s your birthday. If you want to pick a few, I’ll give it a try.”

With a giddy nod, you flip open the book to find an inscription in red ink on the title page: 

Happy 20th Birthday, my Sunny Girl!

This book is full of one man’s ideas about life, beauty, and the things that he thought were worth protecting. 

None of them are half as beautiful or worthy as you. 

Love, J.                                                              

[endemictoearth]

About Town Pt. 1

LONG TIME NO FIC

Hiiiiiiii guyyyyyys, sorry! I’m not convinced I’ve kicked my funk just yet, but this prompt from @i-dream-of-emus piqued my interest, and got me to sit down and write something! It’s not done, I’ve started part 2 and sketched out where I want it to go, but I really wanted to get something out there, and this seemed like a natural pause in the story while I gathered my thoughts.

PROMPT: Rae is well-known by the staff of Town Records, and when they don’t see their most loyal customer for a couple of weeks they get worried. Some how, they find out that she’s in the psychiatric ward, and want to do something nice for her during her time there.

So, each week, a member of staff visits her at the hospital with the latest NME and Melody Maker, and the week’s new releases. Rae borrows the CDs for a week, then buys what she can afford of the ones she likes most.

And guess who is Town’s grumpiest / best-looking part-timer?

* 

I didn’t keep exactly to the brief, and some of this will show up in the second half, but it seemed to scratch the itch of “What if?” for me. (Well, half-scratch . . . still got a bit of an itch.)

Not tagging anyone, but I’ll stick it on this month’s Round-Up. Hope you like it!

* * * * * 

It often takes awhile to notice when something’s missing. Like one of those “Can you spot the differences between these pictures?” puzzles they put in to pad out the Sunday papers. At a casual glance, it all seems the same, but when you have a think and start to really look, you see what’s gone from the scene, what’s been changed.

Finn chewed his thumb nail as he restocked the magazine rack with the shipment of latest issues.

“Dave?” He shouted to be heard in the back room.

A muffled “Yeah?” floated out of the half-open door.

“Where d’ya want me to put the Melody Maker Souvenir Issue? They sent us extras!”

Dave stuck his head out from the stock area. “They probably printed too many, the wankers.” He nodded to the counter. “Stick some by the till. Maybe we can shift ‘em as an impulse purchase.”

Finn nodded, chewing on the inside of his lip, now that both hands were occupied.

After stacking a bunch neatly on the counter, he plucked a copy from the top of the pile. Dave always let him have a couple of mags a week at no charge. For no reason he could name, Finn glanced guiltily at the open door to the back and slipped a second copy into his knapsack, then sat down at the stool behind the till, humming along to Elastica playing on the in-store speakers.

Waking up and getting up has never been easy,

Oh, oh, I think you should know.

Oh, oh, I think you should go.

Make a cup of tea, and put a record on.

Saturday mornings were always slow, but Finn liked putting things right round the shop. He’d straightened out most of the sections, filled all the magazine racks, even tidied the notice board. He wasn’t the most personable employee at Town, and he knew Rob generally liked a late night of a Friday, so he didn’t mind volunteering to come in at half-eight on a Saturday, even if he ended up bored for the last hour or two of his shift.

It also meant he could visit his nan after. Normally, he’d stop over at her cottage, which was much closer to Town than his own house, but she’d had to go into hospital for some routine tests earlier in the week, and they’d kept her over, saying they wanted to monitor some levels or something. It didn’t sound good, but they kept telling her not to worry, which she in turn told Finn, but his nails looked even more of a state than usual.

He was gnawing on another cuticle when Rob rocked up through the front door, looking rough but resigned to a full day of work.

He nodded at Finn, who nodded back, and then shoved the door to the back wide open as he went to deposit his stuff in his locker.

Finn didn’t have a locker, as he only worked about ten hours a week. His eyes flitted to the clock, and he was surprised to note that Rob had come in early. It wasn’t yet noon, and Finn was supposed to leave at one. Usually, they were ships passing.

Finn looked down at the cover of the Melody Maker special, the Brothers Gallagher staring deadpan back at him. The song changed over on the stereo system, and he could hear the clock tick a few seconds in the silence before Morning Glory (ironically) started up.

There were no customers in the shop, hadn’t been for most of the morning, but suddenly and unaccountably, it made Finn feel nervous, restless. He’d felt it was quiet for the past few weeks, really. It was like he was living the same Saturday over and over each week, waiting for . . . something.

Rob came out and plopped down next to Finn behind the counter, sighing.

“Y’alright?” Finn asked.

“Good as can be expected.”

Finn nodded.

“You?” Rob asked back.

Finn shrugged.

“Eh?”

Finn sighed now. Rob was a decent sort, and there wasn’t anyone else about. “Me nan’s ill. Well, maybe not, but she’s in the hospital for a bit, I guess to make sure she’s not? Anyway.”

“Hey, that’s shite. Sorry to hear it. Hope she’s okay, yeah?”

“Thanks.” Finn shifted on his stool, still restless. “This place has been dead. Deader’n usual, even.”

“I know. Haven’t even seen that girl, you know the one, is it Mae?, come in recently. Have you seen her?” Rob asked offhand.

Finn froze. “Rae,” he whispered. That was it.

He’d kept having these weird half-thoughts, just glimpses flitting across his mind, of a figure with long dark hair, moving around the shop. But they’d been so fleeting, so transitory, he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it.

She rarely spoke to anyone, just sort of appeared, usually around noon of a Saturday, this sort of time. Sometimes he’d see her in the late afternoon during one of his mid-week post-college shifts, but she’d been a fixture on Saturdays until recently.

He furrowed his brow. “Yeah . . . I mean, no. It’s been a few weeks, at least. Wonder what’s happened to her.” As soon as he said it, he realized he hoped nothing had happened to her. That she just decided to spend her Saturdays somewhere else, or was out of town, even moved. Though, he didn’t really hope that last one.

*

She didn’t buy much, but when she did, it was something good. Something he could tell she’d thought long and hard about, having saved and researched and listened to as many tracks as she could before committing to it.

He distinctly remembered her being near the front of the queue for the new Oasis on release day back in October, though. He’d asked his dad if he could bunk off and work, so he could get his hands on his copy first thing in the morning, before the shop opened to the public.

“Remember when that last Status Quo album come out?” he asked, eyes pleading his case. “You moved your morning meeting so’s you could get it first thing.”

His dad had rolled his eyes but relented, as long as Finn promised to take the bins out for a month without his usual whinging.

And when he turned up at the shop, there was actually a line down to the chemist’s a few doors away. He’d felt special, being able to walk past the crowd and wave to Dave inside, who came over to let him in early. “Not your usual release day, eh?”

Dave grunted. “I noticed you pre-ordered one, too. You can have your pick of the discs, as long as you’re quick about it. I’ll have to let this lot in soon, or risk the wrath of Mr. Singh next door. They’re blocking his entrance.”

Finn ducked his head behind the counter and saw nearly a hundred CDs in neat stacks. Logically, he knew they were all the same, but he wanted the best one. He randomly picked the third one from the top of the second pile, inspecting the case for damage, the wrapper for tampering. It looked good--pristine, even. He slipped it in one of the paper bags by the till and put it in his own bag, in a pocket all by itself.

Even now, months later, he could remember that feeling of satisfaction after so much anticipation. Before he’d even listened to anything but the two songs released for the radio, simply possessing it—the mere possibility of how much he might like it--had been tantalizing.

He wasn’t precisely sure why his brain was hashing over that day on this day, until the memory expanded to seeing her, Rae, come in with her eyes shining and cheeks flushed from waiting in the morning chill for more than an hour. He remembered noticing her uniform, which he’d never seen her in before. She looked like she felt uncomfortable in it, but possibly a little less uncomfortable than normal, since she was getting to pick up this album.

Dave was running the till; Finn was bagging the CDs. It only took them about half an hour to get through the line, but the moment when Rae was at the counter seemed . . . well, memorable. After all, here he was, remembering it.

“Yours was the third name on my list for this, love,” Dave chided Rae as he took her bills and made change.

“Yeah?” she asked, “Who was ahead of me, then?” She was in a good mood, all smiles. Finn couldn’t remember ever seeing her smile that big.

“Just this one,” he hoiked a thumb in Finn’s direction, “And Rob, of course.”

Rae turned to look at Finn, probably reflexively, and their eyes met. “Felt like today’d never come, eh? Been waiting for this for months.”

That might have been the first time she’d spoken to Finn without him speaking first. And the only time he’d initiated conversation was likely to be part of a transaction.

Finn nodded. “I know! It seems like I’ve been waiting forever, but their first album only came out last August.”

Her lips closed over her teeth, but she was still smiling. Then she said, “Hard to believe—feels like I’ve had those songs in me head for years.”

It was his turn to smile. How was it he could remember this moment so clearly?

That was when the moment ended, however. The man behind Rae cleared his throat in irritation. “Could you two hurry it up?”

The smile fell from Rae’s mouth; Finn handed her the bag with her new music and, as she turned, he said, “Hey, lemme know what you think of it, yeah?”

The corners of her mouth lifted a fraction and he would have sworn she nodded as she turned to leave.

*

He’d known something was missing; how could he have not realized?

He supposed she had always just been there, in the background of the shop, quietly . . . existing. He was intrigued by her, sure, but she seemed pretty private, and he wasn’t one to press anyone. He was more of a hang back and let them come to him sort of bloke. She seemed cool, and he liked to idly speculate about her, but that had been good enough.

Rob sighed. “It is bloody dead in here, isn’t it?”

Finn nodded, feeling a little disoriented. It was, but he was wrapped up in wondering.

“You can leave early, if you want. I’m here now, and there’s no reason for the both of us to be bored senseless.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, escape while you can. Go see your nan.”

“Thanks, Rob. Have a good one—hope business picks up.”

Rob smiled. “Usually does.”

Finn shrugged on his jacket and slung his bag across his chest, then waved to Rob as he headed out.

His walk to the hospital was fairly short, and he was so distracted by thoughts that it seemed like he arrived in less than a minute. 

He started to walk down the hall to the nurses’ station to check in, when he saw a flash of long dark hair down the corridor off to his right. His head turned instinctively, and there she was, like he’d conjured her with his jumbled thoughts. She was standing next to a younger girl, head bent down to listen to the girl whisper in her ear.

When the girl was done, Rae straightened up, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she did. The hallway was dim, but for the spot they were standing in, an open door let the light from the courtyard windows in, and the light played across the sweep of her hair.

He was staring at her, mouth open, when she spotted him. He watched as she went from noticing him as a presence, then as a person, to the second she recognized him. Her shoulders hunched up, and she looked down immediately, as if not looking at him could make him not see her.

She didn’t last long before glancing up to make sure. He held up a hand in greeting, and she nodded. Her little friend looked up at her, her expression bordering on incredulous, before shoving Rae in the small of her back to propel her towards him.

Rae shot the girl a dirty look before dragging her feet down the hall.

As she approached, he began to smile. He was glad to see her, see she was . . . well, she might not be okay, as she was in hospital, and he could see her tag despite her long sleeves. But she was here.

“Hiya!” he said, brightly, his usually mumble gone for once. “Funny running into you, we were just wondering about you at the shop.”

Her eyes flew to meet his. “What? Why?”

“Well, we just . . . hadn’t seen you in a while. Sort of got used to you coming in every week. Saturday mornings are pretty boring without you.”

The expression on her face was impressive, but still hard to read. “Really?”

“Well . . . yeah. Sometimes you were the only customer I’d see before noon.”

She scoffed under her breath, and half smiled to herself. Then, suddenly, asked, “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, visiting me nan. She’s . . . they’re observing her. For, like, levels, or summat.”

Rae nodded, like she understood. “Sorry to hear it. I won’t keep you. Nice to . . . I mean, thanks, or . . . whatever.”

She turned to walk away, and Finn found himself protesting. Out loud. “You’re not keeping me. I’m early this week. It were so dead, Rob said I could leave before one. I—“  

Rae pivoted cautiously to look at him while he floundered.

It was then he remembered the extra copy of Melody Maker. “Oh, hey! Do you, I mean, is it alright if I . . .” He fumbled with the clasps on the front of his bag. “I just happen to have an extra of this week’s . . .” He held it out to her, hopeful. “If you want it, that is. It’s a special edition, that’s why I grabbed an extra.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed in suspicion for a split second. “You sure? It’s not for someone else?”

“No!” Why had he practically shouted that? “No, sorry. I just . . . grabbed two instead of one. I can always get another; they sent us loads.”

She turned to fully face him, but snuck a glance over her shoulder at her little friend, who was grinning down the hall at them.

“Well, thanks, then. I’ve been starved for news of these two for weeks now.” She gestured to the brothers on the cover.

Finn grinned. “They’re still the same old arseholes, far as I know.”

“Arseholes who can make some bloody great music.” Rae smiled back, holding the magazine close to her chest, like it was something precious.

“It’s good to see you, Rae,” Finn said. “Hope we’ll see you at the shop soon.”

Her eyes softened at that, and she nodded faintly. “Yeah, hopefully.”

He wanted to ask her why she was there, what was going on, but he had no right, and from the little he knew her, he knew she wouldn’t want him to pry.

He waved again; this time in farewell.

When he got to his nan’s room, he still had a smile lingering on his lips.

“You’re happy about something,” his nan teased, before he even saw her.

He dipped his head, shaking it in denial, but said, “Well, yeah, happy to see you!”

She gave him a knowing look, but didn’t question him, just held her thin arms out for a hug.