#we have been wandering this fucking airport for an HOUR and we have not found the group nor a way out of this fucking place

[supercantaloupe]

blind leading the fucking blind over here

[panvani]

Tokyo districts we've visited RANKED:

14. Akibahara: inhospitable for human life. only place in Tokyo where they not only spelled out why they specifically had 24hr surveillance on escalators but they felt the need to put signs reminding you on every available surface. so many signs telling you to Speak Up if you think someone has been molested. genuinely felt like an insane person there but at least my girlfriend found a Transformer there (we did discover that Akibahara is vastly more approachable when you get off the main roads)

13. Harajuku: this one also felt inhospitable for human life but in like an extreme gentrification way instead of like Literally Not Made For Humans way. very weird walking through THe Clothes District and finding no clothes I wanted. almost all of the food vendors were selling extreme overpriced meme foods but we did find a surprisingly good katsudon place

12. Shibuya: the Scramble ! nowhere else in Tokyo played as much Western music. clothes were either Y4k for some shit that looked like it would disintegrate in 5 days or Y20k for like. some canvas with stains on it. a robot served me a mid as fuck highball

11: Asakusa: It was insanely fucking hot the day we happened to be in Asakusa so maybe I'm not judging it entirely on its own merits but kind of an insane area in which to exist. Very touristy (largely towards people natively from Japan/Tokyo) ergo very expensive. Maybe if we had spent longer there I would have liked it more but for now my most vivid memory is of the rickshaws which my girlfriend pointed out were almost exclusively used by Japanese people

10. Ginza: This was not unexpected in any capacity but everything is so expensive here. Ginza was the only location we visited in urban Japan where we could walk for an hour and not encounter either a vending machine or a convenience store. "Do rich people not need to drink" - my girlfriend

9. Kichijoji: We bought Blue Ham Ham here and then ate at one of those restaurants that lets you pick from a selection of raw eggs to eat with rice which was good as fuck

8. Akasaka: kind of nothing here but bars, office buildings, and an entire block dedicated to Harry Potter so we didn't do anything of note here. Yu Gi Oh Curry !

7. Nagano: Pretty unremarkable except for having a mall full of old stuff but we went to some shitty hole in the wall where we were served by someone my girlfriend described as "definitely transgender" the moment we left the restaurant

6. Shimokitazawa: We saw some cool clothes here and like 15 seconds of an indie band playing in a building. Kind of the most insanely hipstery area in Tokyo by a huge margin like astonishingly so. Only time I saw anything be specifically marketed as vegan in Japan

5. Shinjuku: Shinjuku, or at least my personal experience with Shinjuku, is sort of hard to describe. It was the first district in Tokyo that I'd seen after leaving the airport and it imposes this vision of a city that is incomprehensibly vast and dense. I don't think other districts dispelled this image but Shinjuku is by far the most successful at affirming it

4. Ikebukuro: Kinda like Akibahara lite which makes it a lot more tolerable. I could not stop saying "are you inspired with lust for Irish women yet" any time we encountered a location that was even slightly notable. I don't think either myself or my girlfriend ended up buying anything here but we went to a nice restaurant so it all worked out. There's something charming about the police outposts that seem to be present on every 2 blocks and the number of cameras randomly scattered about

3. Ueno: We rly only saw the zoo here (it was mid) but upon stepping out into Ueno park we discovered a Pakistan-Japan Friendship Festival where we watched some women dance and bought some good as fuck sweets

2. Sumida: Quite cutes :) we spent a lot of time wandering around residential areas which always make me feel way more amiable towards an area. Skytree was cool though I probably wouldn't pay for it again. Katsushika Hokusai museum was very cool.

1. Jimbocho/Ochanomizu: We went to the Museum of Modern Art in Tokyo and walked around for 1 million years looking at books and posters and various other items and got some lovely coffee. Wonderful place

SPECIAL MENTION: Chiba: I got a really bad sunburn here

[brettyimages]

year to date little adventure journal, in case you care

jan 28: edinburgh, nadine shah. spent my sunday afternoon shopping for the important things (bed sheets and bath sheets) and the fun things (hair dye, book club novels). had a ramen lunch at the yo sushi on princes st watching sushi plates sail past the scott monument. dinner and drinks with friends then centre barrier at the assembly rooms. my 9th time seeing nadine, 3rd time since she started teasing the new album so 3rd time hearing topless mother, even light and greatest dancer live. she was sensational. always is.

jan 31: glasgow, depeche mode. as soon as i got back from seeing nadine i was on ticketmaster looking for a cheap seat. had to work on the train and in waverley station but worth it. arrived to find myself in the back row of the hydro but i loved it. nadine supporting was stunning, first time i've seen her from the back of a room and her voice filled the place. depeche was amazing too, a couple of hours of songs i adore including strangelove, behind the wheel, somebody, in your room, just can't get enough, policy of truth, black celebration, etc etc etc. i got up when they started walking in my shoes and danced through the entire show from that point on, safe in the knowledge that there was nobody behind me as i flailed around. it's given me the last-minute trip bug.

feb 9: glasgow, the 1975. a long trip with many connections to get to my airport hotel and then back out to the hydro. early entry door was so slow that i got in as the normal doors opened, damp from the rain, but i got a good spot down the front. didn't know the japanese house were making upbeat tunes now so their set was a surprise. still... at their very best was much like the show last year but loved it, especially the surprise of bagsy not in net. i swear matty made eye contact with me a few times; he's so good at that. staging was beautiful, as always. mad rush to get back to town for the airport bus.

feb 10: london, suedemas. a couple of months late this year because of tour in december. early flight to luton and a morning in maida vale, an afternoon in highgate wandering aimlessly in waterlow park and hanging out in the boogaloo. italian food and gossip and gifts at paddington, drinks then trekking across to hackney for an indie club that played 6 AM songs in the hour we were there. heartwarming to spend the day in the company of dear friends.

feb 22: leeds, nadine shah. filthy underneath on repeat on the train down. a little shopping time before dinner but the second hand record store prices appalled me. over at the brudenell there was no queue for the show so i hung in the lobby as nadine soundchecked her new songs. front and centre in the main room, 6 songs: the three she'd been playing at all her pre-album shows, plus keeping score, hyperrealism and french exit. stunning, again. she spotted me wearing her merch and gave me a big grin and wave. i love her.

feb 23: birmingham, the blackout. a huge french toast brunch at moose coffee, a train to brum, a wander round the bullring. ready for a weekend of big nostalgia seeing the band who defined my student years and first flush of independence; found myself singing along to the songs and doing all the little actions as if it had been weeks and not years since the last time. ended up on the barrier for the last couple of songs and snoz immediately pointed a drumstick at me with a grin. saw some old friends, waited a long time in the freezing cold to get a chat with each of the 6. lots of big hugs, catch ups, a "fucking love you!" greeting from Gavin. so special.

feb 24: london, the blackout. trains to kentish town, bumping into matthew on the way to the flat. an afternoon with my besties, tokyo diner bento, hot chocolates, the Cute exhibition. we hung out in the hello kitty disco and pretended to have a sleepover in the hannah diamond installation. seeing an old band with a new band friend - same set, different side of the stage. waited out in the cold to chat again, more big hugs and catch-ups including a long conversation with sean. so much easier to chat as adults when i pretend we're old friends and not a girl with the singer from the band she has a huge crush on. a perfect weekend.

mar 9: galashiels, swim school. a local gig, a band i barely know but have high hopes for. the kind of show where i can have a normal day and then hop on the bus in the evening; macarts, a place that feels like home now. swim school and her picture both great bands, the kind of gig where i didn't know a single song but wasn't wondering how many songs they had left.

coming up: sprints. a week of adventures with a brett anderson cameo or two. nadine again. olivia rodrigo. for one night only, the ninth wave. finally, eventually, being in front of suede again.

[rinnysega]

Yes! 

So long story short, in my first year of college, I kept getting this weird feeling I was being watched in my dorm room. There was a low bookshelf that divided the room between my half and my roommate’s half. Every night I could feel on her side of the room there was a white man with blonde hair staring at me. 

One night around 1am, my roommate came back from her shower pissed off. I asked what happened and she said there was a guy wandering around the hall after hours in the girls only dorm. She told him to leave and he walked around a corner. She followed him and he was gone. I asked what he looked like - she confirmed the same description of the guy I felt who was staring at me in our room in the dark. She told me she got the creeps at night too and thought she was just being weird.

Her boyfriend at the time was a skeptic so one night he came over and blindfolded me and my roommate. He said to point in a direction of the room where we thought the spirit was. I pointed toward her side (and so did she I found out later). I heard him walk over to that side of the room and when he did, I pointed over to another corner (and so did my roommate, to the same corner). 

My roommate got sick that year and had to commute from home, so I was alone in that dorm room for the second semester. Afraid of being alone with a fucking ghost, I kept her bedside light on every night, just to illuminate that side of the room. I had that lamp on every night except one night when a friend was sleeping over. She asked if she could turn the light off. I said yeah, go ahead, because I have her there, so I didn’t think I’d be scared. The next morning, she asked why I kept turning the light on when she asked if she could keep it off. I said “what?” and she said that twice during the night and when she woke up, the lamp was on. She’d wake up, turn it off and go back to sleep, then wake up later to it being turned on (the ghost knew i liked the light on so he kept it on for me).

He followed me home over the summer and to another dorm hall the next year where little things happened here and there, but a major moment was waking up in the middle of the night to the sensation of him (and I knew it was him) sitting at the foot of my bed. I sat up, wide awake, waking up my new roommate who asked “is it the ghost again?” I nodded and when I did, someone was trying to break into our room (a guy was drunk and thought it was his room, but stil!!!)

The last time I felt him around me was one morning the following summer when I was driving to the airport on a dark road at 4am. I was driving alone, along a road in the deep woods of Florida and suddenly I could feel him sitting in the middle seat of the back of my Honda Accord. As soon as I felt him back there, I was more alert and paid extra attention to the road. Literally like a second later, a deer ran in front of my car and I hit the brakes in time. 

A friend of mine said he was probably following me around to protect me so he could move on from this world? i don’t know, I don’t know much about spirits I’ll be honest - but after that night with the deer, I never felt him again and it’s been like 10 years since then.

@brunos-rat​ @cheetour​

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 1 - In Which I Am Confused By Pastry

In addition to starting later, being significantly shorter and, presumably, being filled with a much higher percentage amount of me complaining about being on a bus*, this year's trip also differs from the norm in that it actually began a few days prior to the commencement of this blog. An outrage, by anyone's metric, yes, and one I can only apologise for, however this was due to my sneaking in a little friend-y jaunt to Sweden for a couple of days at the start of the trip, which I had neither the time, nor the inclination to chronicle, nor, I think you'll realise, if you think hard about it, would you have had the inclination to read about. So we're both to blame, actually. (mostly you).

(* I didn't realise how prescient this sentence would be when I wrote it. Stay tuned for tomorrow's blog! Ha ha! What fun!)

Briefly, though, I travelled first from Edinburgh to Poland, where I found I had enough time to venture out to purchase some ingredients for a horrible, makeshift sausage wrap from a garage forecourt and not much else, before flying to Sweden the following morning, where temperatures quickly hit minus eleven. (My mother, on finding this out, immediately delighted in informing me that the temperatures in Scotland had hit minus twelve, down in Dumfries and Galloway where she was holidaying, herself, so she wins, apparently. Of course what she didn't factor in, however, is that I went on a seven hour walk around a frozen lake in that weather, whereas she probably just had a dither around a garden centre while complaining that one of their signs was wrong or something, so actually it's me that's the winner.) I also found a giant icicle,

Pictured

which, troublingly, I insisted on having a maternity style photoshoot with

I'm positively glowing

And generally ate a lot of food and fucked about loads and it was excellent (if slightly disinteresting to an outside observer.) 

Then, I got a bus down to Denmark, where I found I had enough time to eat a, frankly, not even close to Swedish pizza and not much else before sleep, in preparation for my flight the next day.

And so, my first day of actual, factual vagrancy had dawned. I left the GoHotel and it's weird black mattress stains behind and travelled briefly from Tårnby's dimly lit and almost certainly haunted train station to Copenhagen airport, where I duly milled around and ate some crisps for a bit. 

May god have mercy...

After being corralled into a big holding area like the revolting human cattle we were, myself and the swarms of Milanese travellers now flanking me were finally allowed to board the plane, which stunk of off milk. To my delight, I very quickly realised that the source of the milky stinkness was in fact not the plane itself, but instead my aisle-mate; a tubby old Danish businessman whom I mentally named Arne who bought about four drinks during the two hour flight and was either blissfully unaware or willfully averse to the unwritten rule that the middle seat get both arm-rests on a plane. The big milk smelling prick. There was also about eight different screaming children dotted around my seat in such a way as to give a sort of stereo surround sound effect to their insufferable, grating, incessant screeching, which to be honest, probably sounds nicer than it actually was in reality. Eventually, though, we landed. Arne farted off on his merry way and I could finally release the breath I had been holding since take off as I wandered, blind and stupid, into the airport's concourse.

Milan airport - like most others, but worse somehow - is a real pain in the cock to navigate. Signs point in one direction for ages then mysteriously stop, leaving you unsure if you've missed the thing you were after or simply lacked the conviction and mental fortitude to persevere towards your goals, without the reassurance of signposts. As it turned out, in this instance, it was the latter and so, after about half an hour of searching and largely by process of elimination, aided by dumb luck, I finally found myself at the train station - my self confidence torn to ribbons by the object lesson imparted by the airports inadequate signage - where I promply boarded a train to the city centre and stood next to a man who openly smelled of piss for the entire journey. The half hour spend lost, terrified and openly weeping in an airport, coupled with the unannounced forty minute delay to my flight, the hour long train ride to the city and the torrential rain that greeted me upon my exit from the station on the other end had rather put the kybosh on my original plan of a brief, evening walking tour of the city on the way to my hostel. Instead, I made a brief stop at the nearby Cimitero Monumentale di Milano, just to claim I had done something with my day

Neat.

And then, unhindered now by the constraints of the possibility of things I wanted to see, closing, I opted to undertake the hour long walk to the hostel in the pouring rain, partly in order to take in the essence of the city; it's quiddity; it's very vibe

Mmm. Feel it...

and partly because I hadn't figured out how to buy a metro ticket yet and couldn't be bothered to try to find out.

Millan, itself, actually seems quite nice. My only experience of Italy this far had been a trip to the truly horrible Palermo in the summer which was overly hot, overly rude and littered with trash, animal carcasses and microscopic, biting anemone in the ocean, so the sprawling, well laid-out - if slightly impersonal - cityscape that greeted me in Milan was a very welcome surprise, even if the roads are absolute carnage to traverse on foot and look even worse by car. No wonder they all beep their horns so witheringly constantly.

I made my way slowly and sorely through the ominously empty streets of the city (I'm currently operating on the assumption that Italian people are all like the witch from the Wizard of Oz and melt when they become moist - I have seen literally no evidence to the contrary and expect my nobel prize for science to arrive very soon), stopping only to drop into a carrefour supermarket to collect my dinner for the evening.

I made quick work of Carrefour's pitiful, mewling aisles and soon stood, triumphant and very physically strong over the cowering self check out machine that lay prostrate before me. Was this what it was to be a god? Probably.

I scanned the contents of what I had the audacity to call my evening meal through the machine briskly, before coming to my final item. Two doughnuts, from the bakery aisle. I realised I had no idea how to scan them; their bag had no barcode and there didn't appear to be an option to key them in manually. Noticing the mounting queue forming behind me, I jabbed wildly at the screen, hoping one to stumble across the 'buy doughnuts now' button, but alas, to no avail. Quite the opposite, in fact. Whatever I had done had locked me out of the system entirely. Crippling social anxiety setting in, I realised I only had one option: to press the 'call for assistance button, which sounded a frankly needlessly loud alarm. I was having trouble scanning a pastry; not trapped in a well.

Assistance came in the form of a burly, African security guard, who very well may have talked me through how to scan the little chocolatey bastards, but honestly I have no idea. His accent was too strong to understand and he had already repeated himself twice and obviously when that happens, the only realistic solution is to nod like you understand and pray for divine understanding be beamed directly into your brain by some omniscient supermarket god. What I had taken in, however, was the direction in which he was ushering me: back to the bakery. I surmised that I needed to get the barcode printed over there, and so, thanking the man, I packed my, now bagged food, back into the basket.

"No, no. Is fine."

I looked at the queue behind me

"...are you sure?"

"Yes. Go quick." Came the only response.

Right. Excellent. I left my shopping where it was and slunk, big swinging supermarket dick tucked between my legs and rapidly shrinking, past a not insubstantial line of irritated shoppers. 

Back at the bakery, I quickly located the 'print barcode now' machine though it's workings remained a mystery to me and so had to be talked through how to use the thing no less than twice by a roaming cashier and once by just some guy who was there, trying to buy a croissant, before finally a kindly old woman just grabbed my bag and did it for me in the most devastatingly undermining act of genuine helpfulness I have experienced in some time.

I squeezed back through a throng of now near-rioting Italians, making extremely liberal use of one of the three Italian phrases I had retained from my previous visit ('mi scusi') and finally, mercifully paid for the doughnuts which, frankly, I no longer even wanted. I then failed to grasp that I needed to scan the barcode on my receipt to exit the shop (because, honestly, why would you need to?) And had to be talked through that, also, by the same security guard. Excellent. Strong start.

I stepped back into the Milanese night and set about undertaking the final twenty five minutes of the walk; pain brought on by lumping a heavy backpack around for days throbbing intolerably in my shoulders and feet and the rain just beginning to seep through my apparently-not-as-waterproof-as-claimed jacket, unpleasantly moistening my undergarments.

I finally arrived at my hostel for the evening and took a moment to steel myself before pressing the buzzer. Subsequent to my panicked booking of this place the night before, I had looked up reviews and they were, to put it kindly…not glittering. Boasting a proud 2.6/10 on Hostelworld, complaints about the place ranged from "the receptionist yelled at us when we checked in" to "they lock the toilet door when not in use and you need to ask for the key and sometimes they say no and I'm not sure why" to "they told us their rooms were all full after we arrived at midnight and so cancelled our booking in front of us and told us to find somewhere else to stay", so naturally I was extremely excited for some high quality blog-material to bob to the surface. Fans of schadenfreude, or indeed just enemies of me, however, will no doubt be devastated to learn that the place was absolutely fine. I'd venture so far as to say "quite nice". Check in was straight forward and while the owner - a Chinese man - wasn't exactly the most welcoming, it seemed entirely possible that his bruskness stemmed largely from not having the firmest grasp of the English language rather than any actual innate hatred for travellers in his soul - which, honestly, wouldn't have been unjustified, even if it was. Check in was as smooth as I have ever experienced (in fact, the owner even dropped the price of the room for me, as I had accidentally booked for two people and the cost was apparently based on a per-person, rather than per-room tariff) and the place itself was warm, clean and spacious. It even had under-floor heating, which I have since decided that I can no longer live happily without. 

...Not so convinced about the shared bidet, though...

And so, quietly content on a personal level, albeit absolutely seething on a professional, bloggy one, I slumped into bed, too tired to function and lay, half comatose, while watching absolute bilge on my laptop, eventually falling into - what I do have to say - was one of the best nights of sleep I have experienced for quite some time, despite the ridiculous, unignorable cacophony of horns (which Italian drivers seem to sound for almost any reason, ranging from "I'm about to hit you with my car and you need to move, immediately" to "I'm a bit bored and feel like a loud noise would liven things up a bit") and an admittedly unsettling number of passing ambulances hooting away outside, ceaselessly, for the entire. Fucking. Night. I didn't miss this.

[gay-jesus-probably]

OF ALL THE WAYS YOU COULD'VE ENDED THE 9/11 REBLOG I WAS NOT EXPECTING "We're Canadian" ??!!::";??¿ WHY WAS YOUR TEACHER OBSESSED WITH IT THEN

I HAVE NO IDEA. Like, I was understanding at first in the unofficial 9/11 unit, it began with the novel study of the book, and even though I found it a bit weird that there was a book about a pair of fictional 9/11 survivors, it wasn't so bad. It was definitely interesting to read a disaster survival book where all the action happened at the start of the disaster, and half the book was just going down a whole lot of stairs; from what I remember, there really wasn't a focus on patriotism, and there was some interesting stuff of the kid abruptly faced with his own mortality, and the specific terror of being stuck in a life threatening situation with your child. And definitely some exploration of survivors guilt near the end, as the kid was friends with a classmate whose dad was a firefighter, and passed his friends dad going up the stairs while they was going down. And sure it was a little weird that the teacher cried a little at the start about how we were her last class that had any memory of 9/11, but y'know it was a big tragedy and American media has been dedicated to making sure people who experienced it can never heal from the trauma, especially focusing on not letting anyone forget it happened. So I can understand why someone might get a bit emotional when confronted with the reality that the passage of time meant that she was never going to teach students that actually remembered it.

After we did the novel study we watched the documentary, and I was like yeah okay, this still makes sense, we read a fictional novel about this real event, now we're getting some visual context and looking at the real disaster. And then after that we watched the Nic Cage 9/11 movie, and I started thinking man we sure are spending awhile on this topic, I'm not really sure if this still counts as a novel study given how far we've wandered away from the actual novel. And then we were given a 'creative writing project' to write OBITUARIES, specifically for people we invented who died in 9/11, and then I was really wondering what in the fresh baked fuck was going on. But again, the justification was there, because we did ask the teacher what the fuck she was thinking, and she explained that knowing what an obituary is and how to write one is unfortunately useful knowledge, and it's probably for the best if we know how to do it long before we're ever going to need to. Very fucking strange and kind of insensitive, but there's some logic to the whole thing so I guess this train is still on the tracks.

...But then we had to take the fake person from our obituaries and follow it up with writing a eulogy for them, and then deliver our fake eulogies in front of class, to give us more public speaking practice??? With part of the grading rubric being how well we sold the act of being the grief-stricken parent of our fictional 9/11 victim? And that was about the point that I realized no, this train hopped the tracks a long time ago, and we've somehow kept on rolling anyways.

All of this fucking nonsense was in direct contrast to our Social Studies teacher, who frequently joked about how post 9/11 paranoia and aggressive airport security standards ruined his life, because some fucking asshole tried to blow up a plane a few months after 9/11 by hiding explosives in his shoes, and that asshole happened to have the exact same first and last name as my social studies teacher. So literally every single time my teacher had to fly somewhere, it would begin with him arriving at airport security, immediately being arrested on charges of having a name, and spending several hours sitting in a holding cell while they quadruple checked that no, the Shoe Bomber has not somehow been quietly pardoned of his three consecutive life sentences, he has not escaped from maximum security prison without anybody hearing about it, this is literally just Some Guy, and it's not actually illegal to be named Richard Reid.

[sharkneto]

I would very much like to read about Five cooking a hamburger

Don't worry anons, I hear ya <3

Luther is later than he meant to be. Honestly, he’d meant to be home hours ago.

Allison’s flight back to California had been bright and early, practically before the sun rose, and Luther had volunteered to be her ride to the airport. It was supposed to be a there-and-then back trip, really, but he’d gotten sidetracked driving back through downtown. In that he’d never really explored the downtown – of his own city – outside of missions for Dad. He had nothing else planned for the day, so he’d shrugged, found a parking space, and just wandered. Enjoyed a coffee from a local shop. Enjoyed a second from another one a few blocks down. Meandered through an art gallery. Found a weird little knick-knack shop that he’d picked a few things up from, thinking of Klaus. Enjoyed some ice cream in a little park.

He wasted the entire day like that and it was fantastic.

It’s dinnertime, now, though, and Mom’s on her first vacation ever with Diego, so he figures he should be home to help figure that out for whoever is there.

Luther softly shuts the door behind him, takes in the quiet entryway. Sets his little bag of things for Klaus on the side table. Maybe he didn’t need to rush home – seems no one is here anyway. Still, he wanders towards the kitchen, figuring anyone here and hungry will be there.

As he nears, his nose catches the faint smell of meat cooking. He picks up the pace and enters, expecting Klaus.

It’s Five. Luther blinks. “Hey, Five.”

Five turns to scowl at him, which Luther blinks at again.

He’s not sure what that’s about.

“What’re you making?” he asks, pushing past Five’s apparent mood as best he can. “I thought we’d order take-out tonight, what with Mom not here.”

“Oh, you figured,” Five bites. “Right, that should have been my assumption, too, with no one else here all day.”

Shit.

Luther hadn’t let Five know he was going for the day – hadn’t planned on being gone for the day – and he’d sort of assumed someone else would have swung by at some point. He hadn’t even had a chance to remind Five they were heading out early this morning; Five had been sleeping, and that’s so rare for him that Luther hadn’t had the heart to wake him.

“I’m sorry, Five. I got distracted downtown, I should have let you know where I was at.”

“It’s fine. You don’t owe me an explanation or anything. We’re all adults here, we can do what we want.” Five spins back to the stove to aggressively poke at whatever he’s got there with a spatula.

It is obviously not fine.

They’ve been back for a couple months, now, figuring out this new normal together. They’re all still figuring out Five, this damaged, prickly person he is now, but Luther already knows one thing from their weeks of quietly orbiting one another.

Five does not like to be alone.

He won’t admit it, but he spirals pretty quickly. Luther isn’t sure if it’s an apocalypse thing or a leftover paranoia for their safety after everything. It’s probably both.

He studies Five’s back, trying to gauge how badly he’s fucked up. Five looks deceptively comfortable. He’s in a long-sleeved t-shirt that doesn’t quite fit him, which means he probably stole it from Viktor, and a pair of athletic shorts, with only socks on his feet. His hair is lightly tussled and hangs over his forehead, not combed into his usual order.

He looks like the regular thirteen-year-old that he isn’t.

Luther isn’t sure how to make this right. Five’s shoulders are still taut. Luther steps further into the room. “What are you making?” he asks again.

Five glances at him and then back to his pan. “…some meat.” Before Luther can respond, Five glances at him again and adds, “I can make some for you, too.”

Luther isn’t sure what emotion is bubbling up in his chest, but there is definitely one there. “Sure, Five. Thanks.” Five just nods and then steps over to the fridge to grab another of whatever he’s cooking now. Without him in the way, Luther can see what he found for dinner. He almost laughs.

A lone burger patty lays very slowly sizzling in the middle of the pan. Five needs to turn the heat up on that if he wants it to cook in any reasonable time.

Luther swallows, working to choose his words as Five blinks back to the stove to nudge his lone burger to the side so he can add a second for Luther. “Alright, hamburgers are a good choice. What should we have with them?”

Five takes a second to squint at the circular meat patties in front of him – Luther can only just hear his mumbled “Oh, those are hamburgers,” to himself – before he refocuses on the question. “Umm.” His brow furrows as he thinks about that.

Something else bubbles in Luther’s chest. Five was definitely going to only eat a lone, unseasoned burger patty for his dinner. Five blinks over to the cupboard to open it and stare blankly at it. “There are beans?” he offers.

Luther knows there is a lot more than beans in there. “It’s just us, tonight, let’s live a little,” he says. He goes to rummage through the fridge and then the freezer. There are some frozen fries in there, tucked in the corner. They seem like a Klaus purchase, not something Mom would keep on hand. Luther pulls them out to show Five, eyebrow quirked up for his approval. Five shrugs and Luther takes it as agreement. Five jumps back to the stove to poke at the patties some more while Luther finds a pan to empty the bag on and reaches around him to get the oven heating up.

“You should turn the burner up, they’ll cook faster,” he offers as he steps back.

Five ducks to look at the tiny flame under his pan. “If you fire is too hot, you risk burning your outside while the inside is still cold,” he counters.

“Sure, but I think you’ll be ok with a little more. Is your pan even hot?”

Five frowns at him but does nudge the dial up an infinitesimal amount. Luther lets him do his thing. They have time before the fries will be ready anyway.

They sit in the quiet together. Five moves to lean on the table, picks up a beer there that Luther had missed coming in.

Yeah, he fucked up leaving Five all day. At least he hadn’t gone for the hard liquor. Small mercies.

Luther reaches a hand out for the bottle, and Five narrows his eyes in suspicion at him. “I just want a sip,” he says. It’s not going to be a small sip, but if he can get Five done with that bottle maybe he can switch him over to juice or something for the meal.

Five passes it over, as Luther knew he would, and he takes the largest gulp he thinks he can get away with before handing it back. Five tucks away his surprise at Luther actually returning his drink.

The quiet continues. The oven finishes preheating and Luther shoves the fries in, tells Five to let him know when it’s been fifteen minutes. Five pokes the burgers some more. His heat is so low it still isn’t time to flip them.

“How was downtown?” Five asks eventually, breaking the silence.

Luther nods to himself. “It was good. Found some cool little shops. There was this one with figurines I thought Klaus would like. Weird little animals.”

Five considers that, his gaze going distant. “Near a little park shoved on a corner and shaped like a triangle?” he asks.

“Yeah?”

Five pulls himself back to the present. “Yeah, Klaus would like those.”

“You’ve been there?”

Five shakes his head and then pauses, his head tilting as he considers his answer. “Well. Not now.”

Ah.

“I found some, in the rubble,” he continues. “They’re like…” His hands move vaguely in the shape of the creature, trying to conjure up the word he doesn’t have. “Animals,” he has to repeat, obviously disappointed in himself for not having a better descriptor. “With crazy patterns, right?”

Luther nods. “Yeah, that’s them. Good to know they’re durable, I guess. Good for Klaus,” he says without thinking, panicking as soon as the words leave his mouth. He glances to Five, checking how his glib remark landed.

Five just snorts. “Yeah, they’re durable, alright.” He escapes back to the stove, finally flipping the burgers. They’re just barely brown.

Luther bites his tongue to not tell Five to turn the burner up again.

Five glances at Luther and then away, then back again. Luther waits him out. “How… how do you know when they’re done?”

“The burgers?”

He nods. Sighs. Admits, “I’ve never cooked meat before.”

“Never?” Luther asks, taken aback. In fifty-eight years, Five has never cooked meat? Luther isn’t a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s done some very basic cooking. Mom showed him when he was bored and the only one left.

Five somehow tucks into himself without actually moving. “Where would I have gotten meat, Luther.”

“No, no. I guess that makes sense. I’d just never thought about it. What did you do for protein?”

“Canned meat, precooked. And cockroaches.” His eyes dart to Luther and then away again.

“Yeah, sure,” Luther says, still processing that. “Um. It’s easy. I’m sure Mom has a thermometer around here, there’s a specific temperature you need the inside to get to. With burgers it’s simple, though. They don’t even have to be cooked all the way through.”

Five turns to frown at him, incredulous. “What do you mean they don’t have to be cooked all the way? Isn’t that how you get sick?”

Luther huffs a small laugh. “If the meat is good then you’re fine. Some people like their beef almost raw. Still mooing.”

This information is obviously not sitting well with Five. He shifts his squint to the meat in front of him, sits for a moment trying to find words. “That’s just asking for food poisoning, though,” he eventually splutters. “How do you just know the meat is good to begin with? Just trust?”

Luther laughs again. “We can cook them all the way.” He uses Five’s moment of distraction to subtly reach in and turn the burner up. The fries should be done, soon.

“What did you do with your day?” he asks to keep Five talking.

Five shifts. “This and that.”

Nothing, then. Luther isn’t sure what they’re supposed to do about that. It feels weird to suggest hobbies to Five. “That’s good,” he says anyway.

Back to quiet. Five finishes his beer. Luther pitches it and pours them both a glass of lemonade, which Five rolls his eyes at but accepts without grumbling.

“Fifteen minutes,” Five says out of nowhere.

“What?”

“You said to let you know when it had been fifteen minutes. It’s been fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes and eight seconds now. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.”

Luther snorts but gently pushes Five out of the way so he can pull the fries out. They could be browner but they’re hot, at least. Good enough. And, thanks to Luther’s subterfuge, the burgers should be done, too. He steps to the fridge to pull out buns and condiments.

Five watches him.

Plates set and ready, Luther holds them out for Five to deposit the patties. Five gives them one last poke. “Are you sure they’re done?” he asks.

They’re practically black, at this point (Luther may have upped the burner a little too much). They’re past well done and are solidly in over done territory. “I’m sure, Five.”

Plates back on the table, Luther and Five stand next to each other. Five doesn’t move. “You can pick whatever you want to put on top,” Luther tells him, grabbing the ketchup and then mustard.

“I have had hamburgers before,” Five scoffs. He still copies what Luther puts on his.

They end up sitting across from one another at the table, burgers piled high with sauces and lettuce and tomato. The burger is a hockey puck, but Luther eats it like it’s the best hamburger he’s had in his life. Five actually eats most of his, too.

It’s much better than takeout.

[teddy06writes]

I feel there isnt enough sapnap x karl x quackity x reader, so can I request sap x karl x quackity x y/n where everone js tired at the end of the day, and despite having separate rooms, they all collapse together in one person’s bed

sapnap x karl x quackity x reader (HOLY SHIT THE POLY SHIP REQUESTSSSSSSS)

Trigger warnings: swearing

premise: vidcon pannels and meeting fans can be tiering, and maybe by the time the day is done you and all of your crushes collapse into bed together without realizing until the next morning  ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

“Blep” talking

‘blep’ thinking

(y/n/n)- your nickname

(y/s/n)- your screen name

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

Ah vidcon, a content creators dream, or worse nightmare, or in your opinion, wild trip that lasted three days.

~~

It was your first time seeing anyone from the Dream SMP in a while, and your were practically buzzing with excitement by the time you were getting off the plane in California.

You fiddled with your carry on as you made your way towards baggage claim, grinning upon hearing a yell of “Oh my god is that (Y/n) from the internet!?”

You turned to see Alex standing just outside the gate he’d landed at, quickly you ran to hug him, stomach filling with butterflies at his touch. “Wait it’s Alex from the internet!”

You both laughed as you pulled away, starting back to baggage claim, “Are you excited for vidcon?” He asked.

“Yeah, what I’m not excited for is having to share a house with you idiot for a weekend.”

He scoffed, “What do you mean? It’s gonna be fun!”

“Oh yeah, the entire SMP together in one house, is such a good idea. It’s gonna be chaos!”

“That’s the fun part!”

“I like to sleep at night without being interrupted by random screaming and stuff.”  You argued.

“I’m sure there won’t be random screaming.”

“You seriously underestimate Tommy.” By now you had made it to baggage claim and began to look around for the right carousel.

You split up, planning on meeting back by the door to wait outside for Bad, who had arrived the day before and was picking people up, a few at a time.

After waiting at one carousel for a few minutes your suitcase came rolling out, but as you went to grab it someone else grabbed it from behind you, a familiar voice drawling, “Hey, hey.”

Grinning you turned to see Nick smiling back at you, “Hey yourself.”

He hugged you, and again your stomach filled with butterflies.

Pull away you smiled, “Come on, I think I left Alex just over there.”

Grabbing your suitcase in one hand, and his hand in the other you tugged him off toward where you’d left Alex, calling, “Alex look who I found!” as soon as he was in view.

Nick dropped your hand to grab Alex’s to pull him into a hug, and you found yourself fighting a grin at how red Alex's face turned.

“Bad texted me that he’s almost here!” You announced after checking your phone.

“Who else is he picking up?” Nick asked.

“Uhhh,” You pulled the messages back up, “Karl and Fundy, and then Wilbur is supposed to be getting another rental car and driving the rest of the Europeans when they get here, minus George cause apparently he also flew out early.”

You all headed out towards the pick up area, weaving through the crowds of people you felt Nick grab the back of your shirt, and when you looked back at him in question he muttered, “So I don’t lose you Idiot.”

All you could do was hope your face was clear of any blush as you smiled back.

You all ended up stood near the curb when a voice cut through the chatter, “Hey gu-uys!”

“Karl!” The three of you exclaimed as he ran through the crowd towards you.

Upon reaching you he some how managed to get his arms around all of you enough for a group hug, and you laughed, “Shouldn’t you be at the other gate?”

“Yeah, but I thought I saw you guys so I came over here, and I was right!”

Alex cocked an eyebrow, “What if it wasn’t us?”

“uhhh, I dunno, awkwardly ran at random people?”

You all laughed, and Nick scoffed, “You’re ridiculous.”

After a few more minutes of waiting, a car slowed near the curb, Fundy’s head practically falling from passenger window, “I’m looking for some youtubers, dumb American ones, you seen any?”

Bad smacked him, “they aren’t dumb, hey guys!”

You waved at them as the guys started loading their suitcases into the back of the car, and after Karl insisted he take yours as well, you slid into the back seat, “What’s the house situation like?”

“It looks like just about everyone will get there own room,” Bad reported, “But Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo and Purpled are sharing the room with the bunk beds, because Clay designated it as the kids room.”

You snickered as Alex climbed into the back next to you, leaving Nick and Karl to take the spots in the middle row of the van.

“And obviously cause Kristen’s coming she and Phil are sharing, and then Eret said he, Puffy, and Niki would take the room with the double beds,” Fundy offered, “Which means the rest of us should get single rooms.”  

Alex elbowed you, “Told you wouldn’t get stuck with random screaming.” 

“Oh there's still time for that.”

~~

After getting to the airbnb and racing Fundy for one of the bigger rooms that was left (it was decided Phil and Kristen would get the master bedroom, and Clay had already claimed the biggest guest bedroom), you dropped your suitcase in one corner and brought your toiletries bag in the shared bathroom between your and Nick’s rooms, before flopping back onto your bed. 

No more than three minutes passed before Karl wandered into your room, flopping down next to you, “Ranboo and Sam are making nachos, and Dream and Nick found a foosball table in the garage, so a mini tournament is being organized if you want in.” 

“Foosball?” You questioned. 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be fun.” 

You allowed him to tug you up, and followed him down from the left hall of bedrooms, through the living room and to the connected garage where George was yelling over everyone to try and form teams. 

“Me and (Y/n) are a team!” Nick announced, grabbing your hand to pull you towards him. 

“Okay, that leaves Big Q and Karl as the last team for now! When other people show up they can join.” George announced. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur of foosball games, nacho’s nearly being spilled everywhere and the rest of the people arriving. 

~~

The next day was the first day of vidcon, and after getting dressed in some casual clothes you grabbed your laptop and headed out to the living room, mostly empty in the quiet house, with the exception of Tubbo, who was flipping through tv channels, and Phil, who was tinkering around in the kitchen. 

“So what’s your plan for the day?” Tubbo asked, finally having settled on a baking show. 

“Uhh, stress about the panel until it’s time for the panel, hang out, maybe find a pizza place, you?” 

“Me and Tommy are just gonna wander the convention center most of today cause I don’t have anything until the meet and greet tomorrow, then when he has to go I think me, Ranboo and Fundy might be going to mess with dream george and sapnap during the dream team panel. What’s you first panel about?” 

You glanced back down at your laptop, “It’s listed as ‘small creators with a big part’” 

From the kitchen you heard Phil chuckle.

“Oh cool.” Tubbo smiled, turning back to his show. 

You looked back down at your laptop, reading over the possible sample questions and discussion topics, you wanted to be mentally prepared for this.

At some point, as the rest of the house began to stir Alex shuffled out from the hallway and plopped down in between you and Tubbo on the couch, throwing his legs up in your lap.

“Good morning.”

He groaned, “Why is it so early?”

“It isn’t,” you laughed, flicking at his forehead, “Your just jet lagged.”

“Is there coffee here?”

As if on cue Nick, who had come over from the kitchen, offered him a mug, “Phil made a big ass pot of it.”

“Oh thank fuck!” He took the cup greatfully.

Nick smiled, handing you the other mug before going back for his own as Karl flounced into the room and plopped down on the other couch, “Good morning!” 

“Morning Karl!” You smiled. 

“oooo, are we watching cake wars?” He asked excitedly. 

Tubbo nodded and launched into an explanation of what had happened so far in the episode. 

Eventually everyone woke up and was gathered around in the living room and kitchen, drinking coffee and tea as they planned for the day. 

“Well if most of us have different things planned why don’t we just plan to meet back up here before dinner?” Niki suggested. 

A half asleep Wilbur nodded, “Sounds like a good idea.”

Techno snickered at his grogginess, elbowing him lightly, “I guess the first panel really will be sleepy boys inc.” 

If Wilbur had been fully awake he probably would’ve elbowed him back, but instead just muttered, “Shut up.” 

“Okay! So we meet back here for six yeah?” Bad asked. 

Everyone nodded, and disappeared back to their various places around the house to get ready. 

Back in your room you put your laptop away and got the last of your things ready for the panel, even though it wasn’t starting for a few hours.

“(Y/n)! Your panel’s at 12 right?” Nick half yelled through the open bathroom doors. 

“Yeah?”

“Okay cool, do you wanna come with me, Alex and Karl? Apparently Jimmy and all them just got in.” 

“Sure.”

You had talked to the famed, ‘Mr. Beast’, a few times, and had even been in one or two of his gaming videos, so before you knew it Alex was stealing the keys to one of the rental cars and you were off. 

“Yeah we just left the airbnb.” Karl, said into his phone. There was a pause before he said, “Oof, I’m glad I came out early then.” Another pause and then he laughed, “Nimrods. We can stop for food if you want?” 

A few minutes later he ended the call, leaning up between the front seats, “The gang requires food, we’re taking a pit stop to taco bell.” 

“Taco bell? At 9 in the morning?” Alex questioned. 

“Yeah apparently the nimrods forgot to get food before they left the airport, and now their stuck in traffic. We’re gonna meet them at the hotel.” 

You chuckled, “Sounds like a Jimmy move. Let me guess, they forgot because none of them slept and they took a red eye?” 

“What the fuck is a red eye?” 

You looked back at Nick, incredulous, “You don’t know what a red eye is? Oh my god you privileged fool!” 

Alex snorted, “It’s a really early flight Nick. Like, a you get to the airport for 11pm, and end up eating breakfast when you get to the other airport, flight.”

“Or, a get to the airport for anytime between 11pm and 4am and regret your life choices while waiting for your plane.” You offered. 

“In other words, hell.” Alex finished, pulling into a drive thru. 

“Yikes, why would anyone do that?” Nick asked. 

“It’s cheap.” Karl said. 

“Planes are less crowded, so are the airports.” Alex added. 

You smiled, “I do it for the feeling of a lineal space. There's no vibes like airports from 11pm to 4am.”

They all laughed, and Karl quickly unrolled his window to order an ungodly amount of food. 

~~

Unsurprisingly,  after that the day passed in a blur, the panel going pretty well, and then the impromptu meet and greet outside the meeting hall, trying to make it through the convention center with Clay and Nick without being mobbed, and then suddenly everyone was back at the airbnb getting ready for dinner. 

“(y/n) you bitch why are you taking so long in there!” Tommy yelled through the bathroom door. 

“I’m trying to fix my hair from when you threw water at me prick! There's five other bathrooms in this house go find another one!” You yelled back. 

Distantly you could hear Bad yell, “Language!” 

“Everyone is in the other bathrooms!” 

Giving up on your hair you set the brush back down and recapped the container of paste, turning and opening the door to your room, “Alright, fine.” 

“That wasn’t that hard was it?” Tommy asked, moving past you into the bathroom. 

“Don’t touch my stuff.” You instructed, striding out of the room and down the hall. 

Out in the living room Eret was humming as they cleaned up the last of the later Tommy had gotten everywhere as the rest of the group started to assemble. 

Once everyone was finally ready, and the final arguments of who would take which car, you were shoved into the back of one of the vans with Karl and Alex, making all of the anxiety that had dissipated after the panel came flooding back, especially when Nick, who was sitting on the bench seat in front of you, turned to join the conversation. 

The night was spent trying to keep blush off your face whenever Karl’s knuckles brushed yours, when Nick’s arm found it’s way around the back of your chair, or when your and Alex’s knees bumped. 

‘God’, you had thought, ‘this is like some romcom shit.’ 

After Tommy’s fail attempt to steal a set of car keys and try and drive home  -Phil smacked him upside the head, Niki snatched the keys from his hand, Kristen started to lecture him, all while the rest of you laughed your asses off- The bill was paid, and everyone piled back up into the cars, already starting to plan a movie night. 

Upon getting back to the airbnb, you headed back to your room to change back into the hoodie and comfortable pants you had been wearing earlier, heading back into the living room in time to steal Punz’s seat on the couch with Nick and Karl. 

When Alex squeezed into the spot between you and Nick, you could’ve sworn you saw Techno smirking and Puffy waggling her eyebrows toward you, how they found out about your stupid group crush you had no clue, but then Clay and Skeppy started to argue over what movie to put on. 

Tubbo ended up taking the remote from Clay, and from where he was sitting In front of one of the couches, tossed it over to Phil on the other side of the room, who said, “We’ll do a vote then!” 

A movie was selected democratically, some cheesy action movie began to play, and at some point you half turned, propping your legs up across the boys laps as Alex maintained a running commentary on the movie, just loud enough for you and Nick to hear, and Karl absently traced small shapes into your ankles. 

~~

The second day of vidcon was the most hectic, with you, Nick and Alex were going to watch the Mr. Beast panel Karl got to be a part of, plus both the dream smp panel and the meet and greet later in the day. 

You had woken up to Karl and Alex jumping on top of you, “Wake up! You’re gonna be late!” 

You groaned, struggling to shove them off, “What time is it?” 

“8:27.” Alex said, sliding off your bed. 

“Fuck,” You muttered, “Get off me, what the hell happened to my alarm?” 

“You left your phone in the other room, when it went off it woke us up.” Karl explained. 

“He means it woke him up and he felt the need to wake me up,” Alex complained as you sat up now free of the people laying on you, “Why the hell is your alarm set so early?” 

“It’s not early, I just wanted to be able to get ready without being in anyone’s way.” 

Karl nodded, “Makes sense.”

“C’mon, let’s give them time to get ready.” Alex grabbed Karl’s arm, half dragging him out of the room.

You quickly got ready, pulling on a nicer button down, plus a jacket that was one of the first from your new merch line.

You finished your hair, plugged in your phone and headed out to the kitchen where Fundy seemed to be attempting to make pancakes, dragging Karl into the process as well.

You sat down next to Alex and Ranboo, “How long do you think until they burn the house down?”

“I am not going to burn the house!” Fundy exclaimed.

You reached over and turned down the heat on the griddle, “Well you were gonna burn something.”

Ranboo snickered, “They aren’t wrong.”

“Shut up Ranboob!” Fundy retorted.

They continued to bicker as Tubbo emerged from up stairs, shoving Fundy out of the way to take over the griddle. “You’re all ridiculous.” He muttered.

“Yeah no shit.” You sighed.

“Language!” Bad yelled from the dining room.

“French!” Eret called back as she entered the kitchen, “Morning guys!”

“Morning!” Tuboo chirped, starting to flip some of the pancakes. 

“It’s panel day!” Tommy yelled, charging down the stairs, “Those best be chocolate chip Tubbo!” 

Karl held up the bag of chocolate chips he been scattering into some of the pancakes, and Tommy grinned, “Karl my man!” 

~~

Once breakfast was eaten and the dishes cleared everyone loaded back up into the cars to head to the convention center, everyone splitting up again, planning to meet back in the right area in time for the full panel. 

Karl headed off to meat with Jimmy and the guys as You Alex and Nick took spots in the audience. 

Once they took to the stage Nick leaned over and elbowed Alex, “Bet you 10 bucks when they open for questions you don’t go up just to flirt with Karl.” 

Alex glared at him, “10 bucks isn’t worth it.” 

You held back a laugh, “I’d throw in another 20.” 

Alex considered this with a sigh, “Deal, but only if we get milkshakes later.” 

You and Nick agreed, and soon enough when they opened up for audience questions Alex started to stand up, but immediately sat back down blushing slightly, “No.” 

“Damn.” Nick sighed. “We’re still getting milkshakes.” 

Once the Mr. Beast panel had ended you all went to meet up with Karl and head off to the dream smp panel. 

2 o'clock rolled around and the panel moderator began to announce everyone, one by one, and you managed to force down your anxiety, taking your place on the stage between Karl and Nick when the mod called, “(y/s/n), one of the first people to actually join the dream smp.” 

You sat down, smiling at the audience and quickly sneaking out your phone to take a quick video of your friends and then a pan of the crowd to put on twitter later.

Once everyone was on stage the moderator looked up and down the long table, “Wow, there are a lot of people on stage right now, is this everyone from the server?” 

Clay nodded, “Just about, we have a few others, Alyssa, Callahan, Ponk and Antfrost, who had other stuff going on, but for the most part, this is everyone from the server.” 

“This is honestly incredible, how, how are you guys all feeling about being here? I know this is the first Dream SMP panel, but you guys have been to vidcon before right?” 

“Most of us,” George laughed, “I think the only one who hasn’t is (y/s/n), there first ever panel was yesterday.” 

The mod looked over at you, “So, how does it feel to be at your first vidcon?” 

You laughed nervously, “Well, I mean, I’ve been to vid con before, but I was always out there in the audience, it’s- it’s pretty nerve wracking to be up here.” 

The topic shifted and after that things seemed to move more quickly. 

In the blink of an eye the first hour and a half was spent and people from the audience began to ask questions. 

“Wilbur, as the main writer for roleplaying on the server is it hard to keep track of character specifics and story arcs or is it all just written in with the scripts?”

Someone asked.Wilbur hummed, “Well I guess in part it’s written in the scripts, but I think I should turn this question over to (y/s/n), they’ll have a more interesting answer.”

Everyone turned to you. 

“Well, in my mind it isn’t all that hard, but I am literally the kid who memorized long monologues for fun.” You chuckled, “Once the first revolution arc started and the server really started to turn to roleplaying I started a google doc that now gets updated constantly. I have running tabs on current arcs, details on arcs that have ended and then there's detailed character descriptions. 

“I don’t necessarily write down bits to add while I’m streaming or anything, but most of the time it has to be the middle of the night or I won’t file anything correctly.”

Nick chuckled, “I have seen the document, it is terrifying.” 

“Didn’t someone open it to see you updating in the middle of the night once?” Ranboo asked. 

Alex nodded, “Yeah that was me, it was very traumatic, like, I blinked, and then there was another fifty words on the page.” 

You dropped your head in your hands, “It was the night after the whole election thing! Techno joined the server and then I had to add a whole ‘nother character profile, and he and his stupid English major were making things complicated!” 

“Listen man, I just wanted to make sure I had a backstory that fit into the story line, ‘s not my fault when Wilbur lets Dream have partial control of thing the storyline ends up non cohesive.” 

People laughed, and the topic was changed with the next question.

~~

Two and a half hours later, an extra hour after the panel was supposed to end, (there was just so many extra questions), you headed off stage, and were all rushed across the center for the meet and greet, which had been pushed back in time with the panel.

You felt bad for making the fans wait, but the organizers assured you that it was fine, most of the fans had been at the panel anyway.

In the big open hall the orginizors spilt everyone up into groups of threes and fours, the way fans could move down the line and see everyone.

Inevitably you ended up with Karl, Nick and Alex, at the end of the long sections of people.

“Holy shit man, how is it already 6?” Alex asked.

“Who knows.” Nick muttered glancing down at his phone.

“Dude this is supposed to go for like three hours too.” You complained, rocking up on your heals to look down the line, seeing the first groups of people starting to move past Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy.

“We’ll be fine! It’s always fun to meet fans!” Karl said, though he did look slightly wary.

After another three hours of talking to fans, signing things, and taking pictures the last group of people finally made it to your section.

“Hey! They saved the coolest for last!” The boy exclaimed.

“Hell yeah they did!” Alex half yelled back, some how still managing to keep up the enthusiasm.

“Here, let’s get you guys all in a picture together!” His mother said, motioning for you to all stand together. You slung an arm around the kids shoulder, smiling at the camera. “

“Okay serious question time, which one of us is the best?”

“Uhh,” the boy looked from person to person, “probably you (y/s/n), your contents really cool but your under rated.”

You grinned, offering him a fist bump, “ha! See that’s the third person in the last hour!”

Karl scoffed, “but I got like six people over all.”

“I only got five.” Alex pouted.

You rolled your eyes as the boy asked, “So if you guys are in a poly relationship on the server does it create problems with your friendship in real life?”

You all froze, except for Nick who somehow seemed to know this was coming, “Well, in game and out of game relationships are different, sure you can ship all you want, but that doesn’t mean stuff actually happens in real life.”

The kid nodded, “Cool, hey I saw your stream like, during quesrentine, just a question, how many people have tried to fight you today?”

You laughed, “at least 15 took pictures with him squared up.”

A few minutes more and the kid was gone, being ushered away by his mom, and you glanced at your phone, “holy shit it’s already 9:15.”

“Where did the time go?” Kale asked incredulous.

~~

After meeting back up with the rest of the group you all headed off to terrorize a McDonald’s, drawing a lot of attention from random fans as you all scarfed down food.

By the time you got back to the Airbnb it was nearly 11pm and everyone was exhausted.

After quickly getting ready for bed you a collapsed.

~~

The next morning you woke up, and for a moment worth your eyes still closed you were perfectly content with the warmth pressed agasint you.

Then you came fully too, realizing that, no, you weren’t fully swaddled in your comforter, you were laying in a bed with other people.

Opening your eyes you blinked away sleep, looking down, confused to see Alex asleep with his head on your chest.

Turning your head you saw that it was Nick on your other side an arm wrapped around you both.

Karl was half sprawled across all of you, similarly to the airport, as if he could hold all of you at once. You sat in shock for several moments before realizing you were in fact, trapped in bed.

Alex’s fingers were tangled with yours, Nicks nose was pressed into your neck, and you could have sworn Karl shifted in his sleep, as if to get closer to you.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘might as well make the most of it.’ As settled back down to fall back asleep.

~~

Once you had all woke again, no one spoke as they headed back to there own rooms, and your crossed back through the bathroom form Nicks.

~~

The rest of the day past, still no one speaking about it, and that night you found yourself laying in your own bed, wondering why it felt so wrong.

There was muffled whispers from Nicks room, and you quietly got up, moving into the bathroom to hear better.

Unfortunately for you Nicks door to the bathroom was still open, so you couldn’t eavesdrop as planned.

Karl and Alex were both sat on the bed next to each other as Nick paced. “What’s going on?” You asked quietly

“Would- would it be weird if we cuddled again?” Alex asked hesitantly.

“We were debating asking you.” Karl admitted.

Nick nodded, “You don’t have to, it’s just- we-“

Quietly you crossed the room, climbing into the bed instead of answering the question outright.

~~

“Is- I- am I stupid, or is this something?” Alex whispered.

Vidcon had ended and even with the long weekend everyone was staying in California the time had gone all to fast.

You, Alex, Karl and Nick had continued to cuddle every night, still not talking about it during the day.

“Do you think it could be?” Was your only response, continuing to card your fingers through Karl’s hair.

“It seems like it already is.” Nick said.

Karl yawned, “I think I’d like it to be.You nodded,

“me too.”

“Me too.” Nick agreed.

Alex smiled, “I guess it’s decided then.”

The dark room was quiet another moment before you snickered, “It’s cannon irl now guys. What will the fans think?”

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part eighteen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of +sex

word count: 2k

series masterlist

“Sam and I will take the bunk beds.”

The room was a decent size. It was definitely bigger than Sam’s dad had made it sound. A large window on the back wall flooded the space with natural light and offered a view of the city below. By the door was a small fridge and a countertop with a sink and a couple of burners built in so that guests could cook their own meals. There was a queen sized bed jutting out from the western-facing wall and built into the adjacent wall were two twin-sized bunks, one on top of the other, making the room feel... cozy.

Harry and Tom traded looks with each other.

“Kidding.”

The boys visibly relaxed and chuckled awkwardly.

“If I ever have to share a bed with Tom again it’ll be too soon,” Harry sighed.

“Is that any way to treat your big brother?” Tom scoffed.

“I’m taller than you.”

“For now.”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean? You’re twenty-five, you’re done growing.”

Tom shrugged. “Yeah, but I could always make you shorter.”

“Oh, what are you going to do, cut my legs off?” Harry challenged.

“I never said that.”

“Jesus Christ guys,” Sam said, finally cutting in. “Can we not threaten each other until we’ve had at least a few hours of sleep?”

“Whatever,” his twin grumbled, kicking off his shoes by the door.

Tom slung his backpack onto the top bunk and pulled his sweatshirt off over his head, exposing a strip of his stomach in the process. You looked away instinctively, hoping that you hadn’t drawn any attention to yourself while doing so.

“You always get the top bunk,” Harry whined.

“Yeah, because I’m older.”

“That’s not fair!”

“My brothers are actually ten years old,” Sam explained to you, raising his voice so that you could hear him over the bickering.

“No, I think ten-year-olds know how to take turns,” you said dismissively, not missing the glares from the other two Hollands.

“You’re right,” Sam agreed. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and sighed. “Reminds me of the family vacations we used to take. The six of us used to share one hotel room when we traveled.”

“Four boys... I don’t know how your mom did it.”

“None of us do.”

“I thought we were going to sleep,” Harry muttered from where he was already laying down on the bottom bunk, clearly irritated.

“Give us a minute to settle in, dude,” Sam shot back before dropping into a whisper. “It’s going to be a long week.”

You shook your head, putting your hands on his shoulders. “Everyone’s just cranky because they’re tired,” you reasoned. “We’ll get some sleep and then grab some food and then maybe they’ll be in a better mood.”

“You don’t know them like I do,” Sam warned.

“That’s true, but won’t they tone it down since I’m here?”

Sam snorted. “Wishful thinking.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, I’m going to hop in the shower. I feel gross after being on a plane for so long.”

“I’ll go after you,” Sam replied with a nod. “Let me know if you need anything.”

You thanked him with a kiss under the watchful eyes of his brothers who both groaned in protest.

“Oh, fuck off,” Sam growled against your lips.

“By the way, sharing a bed doesn’t mean you get to mess around because I don’t want to hear that shit.”

“Harry!” Sam and Tom shouted, Tom going as far as throwing a pillow at his younger brother from the top bunk.

“Just being honest! We heard you going at it like rabbits when you had your own room, and I didn’t say anything about it then-”

“Harry.” To your surprise, it was Tom who cut him off, raising another pillow in warning. Thankfully, Harry took the hint that time and shut up, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance.

You smiled to yourself with the knowledge that your little Easy A stunt had worked, and looked over to see that Sam was wearing a matching smirk. He winked at you before turning to glare at his brothers.

“On that note, I’m going to shower,” you said, mostly to Sam, and made your way over to where you had dropped your suitcase by the door.

You gathered a set of pajamas to change into and then wandered into the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind you. It was one of those rolling doors so you had to be extra careful not to knock it off its hinges or the track and cause even more noise than necessary. You set your change of clothes on the counter next to the sink and began to undress, leaving your worn clothes on the floor.

The shower was kept in a room separate from the room with the sink and vanity, something you had read was common for Japanese washrooms. Inside the second room was a bathtub with a complicated looking panel next to it. With a closer inspection you determined it was used to fill the bath with water and customize the temperature. The showerhead was secured to the wall just to the side of the tub which meant you would have to hold it while you showered, but you didn’t mind. You were used to holding the showerhead for... other reasons.

Your shower was quick. You didn’t want to take too long when you knew other people were waiting for it. You were drained too. Even as you dried yourself off with a towel you could feel your arms start to get heavier.

You wrapped your hair in your towel and put on your pajamas shortly after, trying not to cringe at the way the fabric clung to your still-damp body. Usually you wouldn’t get dressed in the bathroom right after taking a shower because it was always so humid and sticky, you’d go out in the bedroom to do it, but as Sam’s girlfriend the latter wasn’t an option. So you dealt with the discomfort and ventured back into the main room.

It was dark now. Someone, you assumed Sam, had pulled the blackout curtains shut so that the daylight could no longer stream through the window. Harry was already fast asleep, but Tom and Sam were still awake, scrolling through their phones on their respective sides of the room.

Sam was perched on top of your bed, resting comfortably. He wasn’t underneath the covers, probably because he knew you didn’t like to share a bed with someone who hadn’t showered.

He smiled when he saw you and pushed himself up onto his elbows.

“Shower’s all yours,” you said.

“Thanks.”

You watched him rifle through his suitcase for pajamas and then eventually disappear into the bathroom before finally flinging yourself onto the bed. You still needed to take your hair out of the towel and brush your teeth, but you took a moment to just. Lay there.

Tom didn’t acknowledge you, hadn’t so much as looked at you since you came out of the bathroom, but you still found yourself looking over to him.

At the airport he had seemed at least a little concerned that he would have to share a room with you. Even in the cab to the hotel he kept sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. But now he looked completely relaxed and you were second guessing yourself. Maybe you’d been projecting. Maybe he hadn’t been anxious at all.

You, on the other hand, felt like you hadn’t been able to exhale since Dom had announced that you’d be sharing a room with Sam’s brothers.

It had dawned on you as soon as you stepped into the hotel room that you’d never be able to let your guard down. Before this point you had at least been able to take breaks, retreat to your hotel room with Sam and be yourselves without worrying that one of his family members was around. You hadn’t needed to keep up the act 24/7, but now you had no other choice. It was only for a week, but you knew it was going to be exhausting. You weren’t even sure that your current performance was believable, and that was without all of the more intimate interactions couples had in private. The good night kisses, the cuddling in bed together, falling asleep in each other's arms, the good morning kisses, all things you’d have to take into consideration. Most couples you knew moved in harmony, like they were one person, half of a whole. You and Sam were more like the hands on a clock. You were always moving in the same direction, and once in a while you’d overlap, but more often than not you were facing each other on completely opposite sides of the clock. It was what made you such good friends. Best friends. But what would make you terrible lovers.

To be fair, a lot of people misunderstood your dynamic, which you had been using to your advantage. They assumed that since you were always together you were basically the same person- and they weren’t necessarily wrong. You and Sam spent a majority of your time together. You knew each other well enough to finish each other’s sentences, to voice aloud what the other was thinking before they even said it.

The vibration of your phone next to you disrupted your train of thought. It was a text from Sam.

Can you come here rq? I need help lol.

Confused, you pushed back the covers and stood up. You dropped your phone back on the bed and walked over to the bathroom, keenly aware of the way Tom stiffened in his bed.

You rolled back the door and found Sam standing in his boxers next to the tub.

“What is it?” you asked, shutting the door behind you.

“How did you figure out the shower? I can’t get the water to be hot.”

“This is what you called me in here for?” you said, exasperation dripping from your voice.

“Yes! I don’t want to take a cold shower.” He said it like it should’ve been obvious.

“Did you try messing with the knobs? That’s how I figured it out.”

Sam’s cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as he pursed his lips, thinking about how to answer.

“Not all of them,” he admitted.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Sorry?”

“It’s the one on the left, dumbass,” you said and twisted the knob for him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I just didn’t want to fuck up the shower or anything.”

Men, you thought to yourself shaking your head.

“I’m going to bed,” you told him. “Before your brothers think I’m in here giving you head or something.”

“Let them think what they want,” he said, shrugging it off.

“I want to preserve what little amount of respect they have for me, thanks.”

Sam just chuckled and thanked you again as you let yourself out into the room with the sink. While you were there you hung up your wet towel and brushed your teeth with your finger and the toothpaste the hotel provided. You were too lazy to go get your toothbrush out of your bag.

“That was fast.”

You jumped, hand racing to your heart when you realized it was just Tom. He was still in his bed, but had rolled onto one side so that he could talk to you.

“You scared the shit out of me!” you hissed.

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound very sorry. “What did my brother want?”

God damn it, Sam.

“Why do you ask?”

Tom shrugged. “Just wondering.”

“He needed help figuring out the shower,” you explained.

“Glad he has you for that.”

You narrowed your eyes at the boy in the top bunk. He was trying to get under your skin. Why?

The ball was in your court. You could be the bigger person and let it go, or-

“He has me for a lot of things.” You pushed your tongue against your cheek so that there was a visible outline and brought your fist up to your mouth, moving it back and forth subtly so that he’d get the idea without being too obscene. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?"

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[queenshelby]

Locked Down (One Shot)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 1806

-----------

Today was the day you’ve been waiting for. Your boyfriend was due to return back home from filming Season 6 of Peaky Blinders.

Due to the pandemic and the strict isolation requirements on set, you didn’t see him for four months. This was the longest time you hadn’t seen each other and, despite the fact that you skyped every second day, it was the most difficult time of your life.

Dublin was in full lock down for the entire time he was away and you felt extremely lonely.  

The upside was that, for the next 14 days, he was all yours, being required to isolate with you after having returned from the UK. Whilst the recommendations were for him isolate separately, you were willing to take your chances and insisted you be locked down together. After all, you had lots to catch up on.

You tidied up the house and put on some nice clothes and then the moment had come. You finally heard the key in the door.

‘Hi Babe’ was the next thing you heard as you shot of the lounge.

‘Hi…I missed you’ you said as you fell into his arms, barely giving him a chance to let go of his bags.

‘I missed you too’ Cillian said before kissing you gently.

You could tell that he was tired. Due to the pandemic, his earlier flight from London got cancelled and he had to wait 5 hours at the airport for the next one.

After giving you some attention, he sat down on the lounge with a loud sigh.

You sat down next to him and asked him how everything went on set. You would usually skype when he was away but this time around, he was filming back-to-back and you were lucky if you got to speak to him for 10 minutes when you did.

Cillian was fairly short and you soon began to realise that he wasn’t in the mood for talking about work.

You changed the topic, but Cillian still seemed somewhat disinterested and distant.

‘Are you alright babe?’ you asked as he continued to give you short answers.

‘I am just tired’ he responded as he gave you a small kiss.

Over dinner, he wasn’t really talkative either and you became quite upset with the lack of interaction from his side.

‘You know, I might go to bed. I am a bit tired myself’ you said at about 9pm after you sat together quietly and watched a movie.

‘Alright babe’ Cillian said before giving you a kiss and walking to the wardrobe to get himself a towel so he could have a shower.  

After he came out of the shower and walked into the bedroom to get dressed, he noticed you sitting on the bed in your nightgown. Tears were running down your face,

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ Cillian asked gently, taking you into his arms.

‘Nothing babe, it’s nothing’ you said, wiping away your tears.

‘Common, I can see that you are upset’ Cillian said determined.

‘It’s just, having been in lockdown without you and not seeing you…it was so difficult and I was lonely and now I feel like you aren’t even happy to see me’ you said.

‘Hey, look at me Y/N’ Cillian said, cupping your face. ‘I’ve just had a long day. I am glad to be home with you, alright’ he added before giving you a gentle kiss.

‘And I love you so much’ he whispered as your lips drifted apart for a brief second.

‘I love you too Cillian’ you said before crashing your lips back onto his. Your lips tasted like salt from the tears but he didn’t seem to mind.

Cillian then moved your hair aside and his mouth began to trail from your lips down to your neck.

You closed your eyes and allowed the sensual kisses and nibbles, taking in the love and energy you could feel being transferred from him.

‘I am sorry for having not given you much attention today. Let me make it up to you’ Cillian said as he lifted the nightgown over your head and you let your back sink into the mattress.

Cillian then leaned over you and continued to place kisses over your neck, but now wandering downwards until he began rolling his tongue teasingly over one of your nipple and blowing his warm breath over the wet nub causing it to swell and harden more.

You moaned, arching your back to his mouth as jolts of electricity flew through your body.  

You grabbed his hair in your hands, grinding his mouth onto your breasts, your thighs moistening with want of him.

In response, Cillian tugged at your panties, lifting your bottom to pull them down over your thighs and legs, tossing them to the side.

The sight of your naked, laying in front of him, caused his breathing to stop as his eyes began to drink your every curve and crevice.

‘Hmm I missed this’ Cillian hummed while his erection pushed against the towel wrapped around him.

With a teasingly light touch he slid his fingertip over your skin crossing over your stomach. You sucked in a sharp breath as goose bumps formed over your body and jolts of heated electricity passed through you.

‘I missed this too Cillian’ you moaned as he gave your nipple one final tug before sliding his tongue down the heated trail his finger traced.

He nips and bites at your flesh, flicking his tongue against you and rolling it in a light circle around your bellybutton as he moved his mouth lower.

As he reached his destination, he briefly leaned his head back drinking the sight of your trimmed mound; moist and swollen with want.

Within moments, Cillian groaned against your flesh, sliding his tongue towards your treasure.

He then gently slid his tongue down your wet slit curling his tongue as he lapped up your sweet juices.

His fingers soon found their way to your sweet lips pulling them slightly back as he ran his tongue up finding your hard swollen clit. He flicked his tongue against it causing you to grab his hair and grind your hips up with a loud moan.

‘Please Cillian’ you said with a deep lusty groan. ‘Please make me cum’ you added.

With piercing eyes, Cillian glanced up at you. He sees the want and the need in your eyes and it immediately made his lay his mouth on your nub sucking hungrily, twisting his tongue over it.

In response to his actions, you began to fist his hair and buck your hips against his lips.

‘Fuck Cillian...that's it right there, oh my god’ you moaned.

Cillian groaned against your nub as he slid a finger inside your soaking wet hole. The feeling of your tight sheath grasping at his finger hungrily made his cock even harder.

Cillian blew a warm breath against your clit causing you to moan just as Cillian slid a second finger inside of you.  

He curved his fingers upwards finding your most sensitive spot as he slides them in and out of you while his tongue continued to circle over your clit.

‘Oh my god, yes’ you moaned as your body began to tense and you felt your release coming.

Your breaths came in short gasps as you thrusted your hips against his relentless fingers.

Within seconds, electricity was bolting through your limbs making your toes and fingers curl.

Just as your orgasm washed over you, Cillian could feel your walls tightening around his fingers as your screams of pleasure began to fill the air.

He absolutely loved seeing you like this, squirming beneath him.

Cillian then began to kiss and lick his way up your body, sending your body shuddering in little aftershocks of your orgasm.

His lips crashed down on yours with an unquenchable need, the taste of you still on his lips. You parted your mouth to let his tongue explore and taste.

Groaning against your mouth, he sucked your tongue into his mouth twisting his against yours.

After a few seconds, he broke the kiss looking down at you with a wild look in his eyes as he positioned himself in between your legs.

As Cillian finally placed the tip of his cock against your hot, dripping entrance you pushed against him, not being able to take much more. You wanted to feel his hard cock deep within you.

‘You want this baby?’ Cillian smirked as he pushed the very tip inside teasingly. You moaned deep in response, pleading with him as you began grinding against him.

‘Cillian please, stop teasing. Just fuck me already, it’s been months’ you said demanding.

Not wanting to disappoint, Cillian reared back and slammed deep inside you, filling you to the hilt.

The feeling of your hot, tight sheathe around his cock made him shudder.

For a second, you stopped breathing when he slammed into you.

His cock always feels so good filling you just right, hitting all the right spots.

Your body began to tingle as his hardness hitting your cervix forced a shuddery moan to escape your lips.

Your noises and your tightness drove Cillian to pull out completely and slam into you again.

In and out, so it continued for several minutes. You missed this, the passionate sex with Cillian.

‘I love you babe’ you moaned as he made love to you with deep but firm thrusts.

‘I love you too’ he moaned, just as he was hitting your g-spot once again.

After a while, you began to feel the coil of tension in your stomach as you felt another orgasm building.

Cillian could feel your body tense, your walls tightening around his cock feeling like they are milking his hardness.

Just as your orgasm washed over you, you took hold of Cillian’s shoulders with a death grip as your eyes rolled back.

Your back arched upwards as your body bucked wildly against him, your body quivering with every movement he made.

You screamed his name at the top of your lungs just as Cillian could feel his own release coming on.

‘Fuck’ he moaned as he released hot, thick ropes of his seed deep inside of you with a few final thrusts.

You groaned in response, your body still shuddering from your orgasm and Cillian collapsed next to you, trying to catch his breath.

‘God, I missed this’ Cillian said with a smirk on his face as he took you into his arms. He was exhausted to say the least.

‘So did I’ you said, cuddling into him gently.

‘Well, we are locked down together for 14 days now. This is one way to kill the time’ Cillian grinned.

‘You will not be leaving this bed for 14 days Mr Murphy, trust me’ you smiled.

[eideticmemory]

TWO GHOSTS | MATTHEW G. GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right?

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Stop the World, I Wanna . . . - Artic Monkeys

Space Song - Beach House

May 16, 2002.

New York City, New York.

“[y/n] . . .” Claire whispered. “Honey, c’mon . . . just, try to sit up.”

You couldn’t. You just, couldn’t. It was as if your entire body was filled to the brink with sand — coarse, wet, heavy sand — and it was weighing you down, keeping you anchored to Claire’s bed. Your head rested in her lap, and your fist gripped, tightly, onto the fabric of her jeans — which were stained with your tears. Her hand ran along your spine, and her arm wrapped around you, protectively. She wanted to shield you, she wanted to keep you safe, happy. She wanted to distract you from your luggage laid out on the floor.

But, the pressure of her body, coddling you, God, it just hurt. Everything hurt, and you couldn’t get it to stop, and you couldn’t stop sobbing, ugly sobbing, snot running down your lips.

“Cl—Claire . . .” you whined. “I . . . I . . .” your hand flew to your mouth, muffling a loud and painful sob that echoed throughout the room.

“I know, I know . . .” she cooed, kissed the top of your head, and ran her hand over your hair. “It’s okay, don’t try to talk, just rest.”

Claire held you, all day and all night on May 16, 2002. She held you until you lost your voice, until you cried yourself to sleep, and after that, she still held you.

Because it was May 16, 2002.

And May 16, 2002 was day one without Matthew Gubler.

After crying yourself to sleep that morning, you awoke alone in Claire’s bedroom that night. You rubbed your tired and sore eyes, and sat up, surprised to see the sun had gone down. Your mouth felt dry, and your throat was sore. Claire had left you a bottle of water, and you chugged it in one gulp. You stood from the bed, slowly and groggily, stumbling your way through the boxes of clothes, and decorations that Claire hadn’t even put up yet.

You wandered aimlessly into the bathroom, and switched on the light. You didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. Only a faint resemblance of what you looked like that morning, before the airport, before the tears.

You had dressed up. Did your makeup. And now, your clothes were wrinkled, and your face was smeared with mascara. You looked miserable, you felt miserable, you were miserable.

Claire walked in just as another tear rolled down your cheek. You looked at her reflection, and saw she was eyeing you, sadly.

“Hey,” she attempted to smile. She stepped over to you and held onto your shoulders, catching you as you fell back, dramatically, into her arms.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” she whispered. You hiccuped as you looked in the mirror, making eye contact with her. “It’s just day one . . .” she said. “It’s just . . . day one.”

And it’s true, what everyone says: one day turns into one month, and one month turns into one year.

And one year turns into one decade.

October 13, 2017.

New York City, New York.

Today, is Friday the thirteenth.

Day 5,629 without Matthew Gubler.

And somehow, someway, you feel just as stuck, and frozen, and scared shitless as you did on day one.

You haven’t felt this way in a very long time, though. And of all the days, of all the nights, to feel like this, to be stuck and frozen and scared . . . tonight is not the night.

A knock rings at the dressing room door, startling you from your thoughts. You cleared your throat, and found yourself, once again, focused on your reflection.

You know this person. You’ve spent 5,629 days growing into this person. And y’know what? She’s fucking hot.

“[y/n]!” Another knock follows.

“I’m coming!”

“When?”

“Ramona, I will fire you, and trust me, I really need an assistant!” You shout, fixing your dress in the mirror once again.

“Oh, yeah, right. Then who would make your coffee and make sure you’re on time?” she replied. “. . . You’re late!”

“Okay!” You stumbled to the door in your heels, flung it open, putting your hand on your hip.

“Wow . . .” Ramona said, nearly speechless. “You look . . . hot.”

“That is not how you speak to your boss, dude,” you laughed. “You really think I look hot?”

“Marshmallows on an open fire, smoking, kind of hot.” She winks.

You chuckle, “Thanks, I needed that. Walk with me.”

“Okay, um,” she starts, walking beside you as you strut down the hall. “Hair and makeup are gonna take care of you in no less than thirty minutes, that gives you, approximately, two minutes to get into the studio.”

“Two minutes?” You stop in your tracks. “That’s it?”

She can’t help but grin, just a little, “Told you you were late.”

You scoffed, “Okay, so are we shooting when I step into the studio?”

“Yep!”

“Great . . .” you sigh, walking over to the cosmetic chair.

“But, hey, you’re the big boss, they can’t film without you.”

“Yeah, except big boss told everyone we’re filming at seven sharp, and big boss probably won’t even be ready at seven sharp!” You ramble.

“Okay . . .” Ramona nods, slowly. “Are ever gonna tell me why you’re so nervous about tonight, or . . ?”

“Uh, why am I nervous about a major, televised, celebrity event that I not only put together myself, but choreographed?” You rambled. “I don’t know, pick a reason!”

“Wow . . .” She says. “As valid as all those reasons are, I think something else is going on and I will find out, so you might as well spill.”

“Can’t talk!” You pip. “Getting my makeup done! Tell them I’ll be in at seven.”

You exhaled deeply the minute Ramona stepped away, closing your eyes. Not opening them until your hair was done perfectly, and the makeup artist added her final touches.

You, once again, came face to face with your reflection.

“[y/n]!”

But you didn’t have time to process it.

“[y/n], cameras are rolling, thirty seconds to seven.”

Of all the days, of all the nights, you tell yourself, looking into the mirror, to feel like this, to be stuck and frozen and scared . . . tonight is not the night.

“[y/n]!”

Because you are the big boss now.

Your purple dress — perfectly matched to the NYU logo — hugs your body tightly as you walk across the floor, the hem splayed over feet, which are covered in tall, silver heels. The clack of your shoes silences everyone as you walk by. Everyone, except for Ramona, who steps in before you can enter the studio.

She clips an NYU pin to your dress, “For good luck,” she smiles.

“3, 2, 1 . . . rolling.”

You enter the studio, and the room fills with a flood of “oooooh!” from each and every one of your students. The camera pans over their faces as you walk across the hardwood floor, smiling at them, laughing at their expressions. Their jaws are dropped, hands clutched over their chests.

“[y/n]! Holy shit!”

“Hey!” You laugh. “Language! We’re rolling!”

“You look great!”

“Thank you, how are you all?” You ask.

“Nervous, thanks for asking.” They all laugh.

“You guys will be fine, I’m an excellent teacher,” you giggle.

“Damn right, but are you sure you can’t hold our hands while we’re on stage? Just for a little bit?”

“Big babies!” You shake your head. “You’re ready. Signals from off camera indicated a time crunch, and you quickly brought the group together for a big hug.

It’s been a long time coming. Tonight. Or, as printed on all invitations and promotional materials:

New York University’s 2017 Celebrity Alumni Event: In Support of the Ballet class of 2017.

Coordinated and Choreographed by [y/n] [y/l/n], executive producer and star of the hit reality show, New York Best and Ballet.

Big boss.

The camera follows you as you exit the studio, walk down the hall, “They’re gonna kill it,” you smile into the lense. “I know it.”

All you can think about is the blatant, gross hypocrisy. The way you’re completely, beyond a shadow of doubt, confident in your students and their ability to pull this off.

And you can’t even say the same thing about yourself.

With the cameras off of you, you put your hand against the wall, and steady yourself. Ramona walks up to you, walking along your side. “Got you a water, you should stay hydrated tonight.”

You give her an appreciative look, taking the bottle of water and standing up straight, “Is it too early to start drinking?”

“I guess not, guests are starting to arrive.”

“Holy shit, already?” You gasp.

“You did plan this thing, right?”

“Ugh,” you huff, dramatically rolling your eyes.

“You’re expected in the ballroom, a margarita will be waiting for you at the bar.” Ramona grins.

You continue down the hallway, as she watches you walk away, a crew of people following behind you.

“[y/n]!” Ramona calls.

You turn to her, stopping in your steps.

“Marshmallows on an open fire, smoking, kinda hot,” she smiles.

You laugh, out loud, and give her a nod. Then, you continue on your way downstairs.

More people had already arrived than you thought. The ballroom was packed, covered by a sea of people, tables, cameras and crew meandering through the crowd to catch every ounce of footage they could. You were filmed as you walked down the steps, passing the stage and stepping onto the floor with a grand smile.

“Pretty good turn out, huh?” You chuckled, beaming at the camera as you branch out to greet your guests.

This helps.

The smiles, the laughs, the presence of people that support you and your program enough to show up, pay a lot of money, and witness the magic of NYU ballet in all its glory. The light highlights the brightness of your smile, the glow around you in your element. Your chuckle echoing around the room, as you coasted from table to table, person to person, thanking them for coming.

Reconnections were made, stories were told, and retold, and thoughts of college had you blushing on the spot. You’re so lost in the whirlwind of energy, of being the proper hostess, and managing everything in sight, you didn’t notice that an hour had passed.

Until a crew member taps you on the shoulder, and tells you it’s five minutes to show time.

“Excuse me,” you nod, removing yourself from your current conversation and heading backstage.

You blow kisses to the band of nervous students, give them two thumbs up as cameras trailed behind you. “And . . . you’re on, [y/n].”

You stand up straight, hand your margarita off to a crew member, take in a deep breath. And walk. You march up to the podium, the bright lights beating down on you as you stand in front of the large crowd.

“Hello, everybody, welcome!” You announce, bringing the room to a gentle silence. “Thank you all so much for being here. I’m [y/n] [y/l/n], director and head of the ballet department here at New York University.”

You become flustered at the wave of applause, cheering the crowd and backstage. “Thank you, thank you so much. As a NYU alumni, there is truly nothing that makes me happier than to teach this extraordinary class of students. They’re focused, they’re determined, incredibly talented, and the best of the best. So, without further ado, I present to you the NYU ballet class of 2017, presenting a remastered rendition of their first performance in 2014.”

You exited the stage, the curtain behind you shielding the students that were already positioned in place. You stood backstage, watching them on screen, with your hands bound against your chest. The curtain was drawn, the music kicked up, and they went.

They move effortlessly, dare you say it . . . perfectly. In sync, and with a wide range of motion that rolled without a hitch. The crowd watched in awe, and you were right there along with them. Cameras focus on your face as you’re entranced by the class, and so immensely proud.

“They’re incredible,” you beam. “Aren’t they amazing?”

The full set took about half an hour, and when the curtain flies down, closing dramatically, you jump up and down, and run over to the group of kids who couldn’t wait to see you. The joy can be felt through the lense of every camera trained on you.

Their energy and excitement is putting you on cloud nine. Your own adrenaline is rushing, and pumping in your ears.

You let your guard down. You hand out kisses and hugs left and right, and step back in the crowd on a high, head empty, no thoughts. No feelings except for happiness and pride.

“That was incredible, [y/n], absolutely incredible.”

“Wonderful show!”

You were saying thank you faster than you could hear the accolades, caught in a rush of people passing you by.

You turn to see your students trailing behind you, shaking hands as they’re showered in praise. You grin at them, entirely consumed with elation by their looks of satisfaction, of relief, of relaxation and accomplishment.

You let your guard down.

You got comfortable.

“[y/n]!”

You let yourself slip.

“[y/n], [y/n]!” A hand is placed on your shoulder, causing you to turn around, a smile still plastered across your face.

“You know Matthew, right?” Your co-producer asked. “You guys graduated the same year?”

You nearly collide with him. You stop on the toe of your heels, and come to a screeching halt. Your eyes connect like magnets, the pull is strong and intense. Your breath catches in your throat, you smile fading along with your breath. You instantly begin to sweat under the light of the cameras, your skin heating up, your hands shaking.

“U—u—uh,” you stutter. “Yes! Hi!”

“Hi, [y/n]!” He exclaims, happily, opening his arms to give you a hug.

“Oh!” You gasp as he pulls you into his chest.

And he smells, so good. He’s grown, and it feels different holding his tall frame in your arms. But the embrace is quick, and brief, and he holds your shoulders in his palms as he speaks to you, “The show was amazing, blew me away!”

You’re expected to talk. You’re expected to breathe. But you’re left speechless by the scruff lining his jaw, the curl atop his head, the suit shaping his body, and topped off with a jet black bow tie.

“Thank you, thank you,” you ramble. “Thanks for coming, um, let’s catch up later,” you nod, to which he politely nods back, and clears a path for you to walk on by.

You let your guard down.

And now you can’t seem to catch your breath.

Your feet were killing you by the end of the night. You didn’t get to take a proper seat — without the cameras, and the crew, and the crowd, until nearly ten o’clock at night. As you were trying to regroup, Ramona found you hiding away in your dressing room, halfway asleep.

“[y/n]?” she taps your shoulder. You groggily lift your head, and look to her, “There’s a car waiting for you out back. It can take you home or to the hotel across the street. What do you think?”

“Mm,” you hum. “Hotel. Hotel is fine.”

The Lillian Hotel had been acquired specifically for tonight’s event. A cozy room, with an even cozier bed was waiting for you, calling your name. And after tonight, after day 5,629, it’s all you can think about.

You give Ramona a quick hug, and thank her for everything before you sneak out of the building. You take the back exit, avoiding an entanglement of people and paparazzi.

The atmosphere of the elegant hotel was much calmer. You were given the key to your room, and you turned on your heels to head to the elevators. Your shoes created an echo against the tile, and the sound suddenly silenced when you saw him. Waiting for the elevator.

“Matthew?” You call, timidly. The courage comes out of nowhere, flies out of your chest before you can catch it in your throat.

He stops in his tracks, and turns to you, holding the strap of his bag. “Hey!” he grins.

You give him a shy smile, as you let out a dry laugh and step closer to him.

His eyes darken, not noticeably, but just a little. He looks down at you, and you look up at him, and all you can say is . . .

“Matthew . . .” you clear your throat. “Thank you for coming tonight, and supporting the program, and for . . . being so professional about everything, I know it . . . couldn’t have been easy, I really appreciate it.”

His eyebrows furrow, only for a second, and his face almost goes blank. He looks down at his shoes, taps his foot as his mind swirls with words to say. But all he can is chuckle. Laugh.

“I knew you were gonna do this,” he says.

You tilt your head, “Do what?”

“This . . . think . . . think that what I did today had anything to do with you.”

“I—“ you stutter. “Okay . . .”

“I came tonight to see friends, to catch up, to visit New York. And I knew I would see you, and I knew . . . I knew you’d, I don’t know, expect me to fall to my knees the second I saw you. I can’t do that . . . I, personally, see no reason to do that. I acted professional, because I am professional, not to cushion your feelings.”

And although, he’s changed, he’s grown, he’s matured, and he’s a completely different person than when you saw him last, Matthew Gubler still knows how to make a dramatic exit.

He turns away from you and continues down the hall, boarding the elevator without looking back at you. You — who’s paralyzed, stuck, scared shitless. Standing in the foyer of the hotel lobby, wondering why you’re unable to move, to breathe, to keep your eyes from misting.

And back to day zero.

You knew for sure that you’d struggle to sleep. That Matthew’s word would eat at your gut and brain like a parasite, haunting you, rattling around your head. But, the second your head hits the pillow, you were out like a light.

And you dreamt of him instead.

The way he was 15 years ago.

The way he made you feel.

Bing, bing, bing!

“Huh!” You jolt awake, spasming out of your sleep violently. Suddenly, the sun had risen again, and it was burning your eyes through the windows.

Bing, bing, bing!

“What the—“ You sit up, rub your face, and anxiously search for your phone, wondering why you were being called so early in the morning.

Ramona’s name flashed upon the screen, and you swiped to accept her call. “Hello?”

“[y/n] . . .”

“Ramona . . .” you slur.

“Have you checked twitter this morning?”

“Tw — no? No, it’s . . . seven in the morning, of course I haven’t checked Twitter.”

“Check it.”

“Ra—“

“Check it!” She shouts.

You groan, and navigate to the Twitter app. “Oh . . . oh, I’m trending . . . that’s good, right?”

“Yeah, uh-huh, check who you’re trending with . . .”

“Okay . . .”

Clicking on your name, you instantly sat forward, your eyes going wide, “NO!”

TAGLIST:

@muffin-cup

@pinkdiamond1016

@ncsls0515

@spencersbed

@safertokiss

[outerbankspreferences]

Is It Just Me? - Chase Stokes

Is It Just Me – Chase Stokes

 Word Count: 2893

 MASTERLIST

It's been way too long for me to find it this hard Sitting alone, my fingers picking the sofa apart An attempt to distract from the fact that I miss you I wonder if your friends have had to carry you home And stay for the night because they don't want to leave you alone Way before it was fun, it's becoming an issue

I know it's cruel But I kind of hope you're tortured too

 It had been exactly 3 months and 13 days since you and Chase had broken up. You wished it would have been a shock to you, but you had seen this coming. Things with Chase were great in the beginning. He was caring and sweet towards you. You could remember a time someone had cared for you as he had. You always supported Chase with everything he wanted to do with his life. You met him when he had just started out acting, and you were proud to watch his career blossom to the extent it had.

 But had someone told you 6 months ago that you guys wouldn’t be together anymore you would have denied the accusations. 6 months ago, you thought Chase was in love with you.

 Chase had been going back and forth to North Carolina for auditions and eventually got the leading role in the television series. You spent the first month with him and his new cast mate Rudy, having the time of your lives with the other people on the show. The whole cast would go out to different clubs every weekend enjoying spending time together.

 Just a little over 6 months later you were still going to clubs but this time on separate sides of the country. You couldn’t process what had happened in a healthy manner and instead turned to going out with your friends every weekend to keep your mind off things. It always ended the same, one of your friends dragging you up the stairs of your once shared apartment because you were too drunk to do it yourself. They had grown accustomed to the weekend ritual of getting you sleep wear and a bucket for the morning.

 Then you would wake in the morning, puking the nights content in the bucket popping Advil for the headache and dragging yourself to couch, throwing on some stupid movie that you wouldn’t be able to watch anyways. Instead, you would pick at the loose strings of the sofa thinking of all the times you spent in the apartment with Chase.

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 As you sit picking away at the sofa, you mind wanders to Chase. You still follow everyone on Instagram, and you were still good friends with Rudy, so you could see everyone’s stories. Rudy had been the only one to keep in touch with you, which surprised you because he and Chase seemed to be such good friends.

 You wondered if Rudy ever asked about you to Chase, and then you wondered what Chase’s reaction would be. Would his heart be in his stomach at every mention of your name, or would he simply shrug like you guys had never been more then distant friends?

 You sat wondering if Chase ever thought back to the day at the airport. The way he let you walk through security with no more then just a side a hug you would give a sibling. Wishing you a good flight and see you later before leaving. He hadn’t even waited for you to board the plane.

 There were so many things you had wanted to say to him. You want to tell him you loved him, that you would fight for him. More so you wanted him to fight for you, for the years you had spent together. To fight for the promises he made to you, the ones you made together and the ones to come. You wanted to apologize for not being enough, but you couldn’t find the right words, so you watched him walk out of your life.

 I heard a rumor you've been spending some time With that blonde girl that you work with and I know she's exactly your type And my miserable mind's running wild with the picture Or are you there by yourself, dialing, redialing my number? And I'm calling your mother, spilling tears on my jumper again The way I am

I know it's cruel But I kind of hope you're tortured too

 1 month later, Chase’s mother, Jennifer, had called you because she had seen the announcement on Instagram. The two of you had been close while dating Chase considering how close he was with her. Your mother lived down south, and you didn’t get to see her that often, so Jennifer was a close second.

 You had heard rumors from Drew and Rudy about Chase and Maddie hanging out together more, and it didn’t come as a shock to you. In the last bit of your relationship, you played second fiddle to her on multiple occasions. “It’s probably nothing, it because they have scenes together.” Rudy would make excuses over facetime when he watched your face drop at the mention of her name. “Yeah, you’re probably right, nothing to get worked up over.” You responded in a less then convincing tone, “she seemed super cool the couple of times I met her.” “Yeah she is. I think under different circumstances the two of you could have been friends.” He encouraged.

 When the nights started to get cold in LA again you found yourself struggling to sleep. It was at these times you would reread old text messages and look through old pictures of the two you. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but you weren’t ready to move on. Chase had extra time to mourn the lose of the relationship while you were still grieving. It was on these cold nights alone in the apartment you shared that you began to wonder if he was thinking about you. Was he sitting next to her thinking about you? Was he wondering whether he should call you or just delete your number?

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 It was early in the morning in North Carolina and Chase was sitting on the patio of his shared apartment with Rudy. The sun was just starting to rise in the distance as he found himself restless yet again. He had been awake for about an hour just laying in his bed when he finally decided to get up. He was careful not to wake the sleeping girl next to him. She felt different next to him compared to you. When the two of you slept together you always liked to be the big spoon. Chase let you, finding comfort being wrapped up in bed next to you. Maddie was different, she preferred to lay her head on his chest, letting the sound of his beating heart lull her into sleep.

 Not soon after Rudy came on the patio too, and Chase cursed him for being a night owl. “Not tired?” Rudy asked pulling out the bong they kept under the table. “No, and I didn’t want to wake Mads’” Chase spoke up tossing Rudy the lighter next to him watching the blonde inhale the smoke.

 “I can’t stop thinking about her.” Chase finally spoke up, keeping a hushed tone just in case. “Oh yeah?” “I shouldn't have left her like that. It wasn’t fair to her I just didn’t know what to do.” Chase explained and Rudy didn’t need to be a love doctor to know he was talking about you.

 “It’s been 2 weeks, she’s okay.” Rudy explained and Chase gave him a confused look. “When you guys broke up, I stayed in touch with her. She was mine friend too, and I felt bad that we all sort of dropped her when you guys broke up.” Chase nodded his head in understanding but was still jealous that Rudy got to talk to you. “Why did you break up with her? Not that I’m judging, I just thought things were going good between the two of you.”

 It was Chase’s turn to have a hit from the bong while he thought of his answer. “Shit man I don’t know. Things just feel different with Maddie then they did Y/N. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did.” “Are you sure you’re not feeling too much as an actor oppose to being a person. Sometimes having a love interest on show can be different and confusing.” The blonde tried explaining to him but even he saw the demise of the relationship before Chase start acting with Madelyn. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” Chase asked looking at Rudy and he could tell by the look in his eyes that it was doubtful. “You hurt her man. I think maybe one day, but not right now. I think right now she’s just trying to figure out how to do this without you.” Rudy could see the few tears in Chase’s eyes, and he knew that this wasn’t easy on him ether.

 Chase got up but before leaving he spoke one more time. “If you talk to her again, just tell her that I never meant to hurt her the way I did.” Chase still wasn’t sleepy but the effects of the marijuana did aid in his problem, so he finished off with a shower. He turned the water to steaming hot and then got in. He let the water soak his hair while he wondered what you were doing right now. It only took a few more minutes for the tears to start. Chase stayed another hour in the shower wondering if he made the right decision.

 'Cause this would be one whole lot easier God, I know that's selfish but it's true If underneath some calm exterior You're all fucked up too

 The first few months of quarantine had been rough on you working from home. You also felt alone all the time but seeing Chase’s Instagram post sent you spiraling down another unhealthy path. You had just started to get better. You weren’t drinking as much, and you had let your friends set you up on a group date. You knew you weren’t ready for another relationship just yet, but you also couldn’t hide in your apartment for the rest of your life.

 You had also been talking to Rudy a lot more. He had been your biggest support through all of this. He had flown back to LA a couple weeks ago to help you move to a new apartment. You figured if you were going to move on you had to move from the place you spent the most time with Chase. It was bittersweet because not only did you have good memories at the home with Chase, but those memories extended to your other friends as well. Rudy had ensured you that you would make knew memories in your new place.

 But when you woke up on June 14, 2020 you almost had a heart attack. It had been 3 months and 13 days to the day, and he had already moved on. Now you were stuck trying to grabble with the emotions you were feeling. In some messed up way at first you didn’t want him to be happy. You wanted him to hurt the way you did, but you knew it wasn’t right. There was a small part of you that was happy that he was now happy.

 Then you were reminded that you owed Chase his half of the damage deposit. Rudy had told you they all moved back to LA and were waiting for season one to come out. You debated on just giving the money to Rudy for him to pass along, but you also wanted to face Chase, to show him that you were now okay even it was a lie.

 You took the latter of the chooses and sent him a text. (Y/N) It’s Y/N, I have your half of the damage deposit from the apartment. I can drop it off or you can pick it up if you want. You stared at the text message for fifteen minutes before sending it. It only took five for him to answer and you dashed to look at the phone. (C) Oh shit I forgot about that. I mean if you want to keep it, that’s fine. You scowled at the text. You didn’t need or want his pity money. (Y/N) I’m fine without it, if your busy I can send it with Rudy the next time he’s here. (C) Okay, no that’s fine I can come by today and get it just air drop me your address. You did just that deciding against messaging him back.

 Chase’s heart fluttered a little when he saw your name come up on his phone. He hadn’t heard from you in months, and he assumed it was going to be about the post on his Instagram. He made the decision that Maddie made him the happy he wanted to be and left you. He had just gotten back in town when you told him about the deposit, and he didn’t mind letting you keep the money. It was the least he could do after everything he put your though. His heart sank when you declined his offer but lite back up when you offered for him to come over.

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? With only cigarettes for company? Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 He honestly thought of this as his chance to apologize for everything that happened. You didn’t deserve for him to treat you like that, and he owed you an explanation. He drove over to your house, white knuckled the whole way. You lived in a small, gated apartment building and he remembered Rudy telling Maddie B. about it. He remembered Rudy saying how excited you were for a new place, and he wasn’t sure if Rudy was just saying that to upset him. Every time Rudy mentioned something about you it always made his heart sink underground and he was reminded about the way he treated you.

 Chase started to walk up the stairs to your apartment once you buzzed him in but to his surprise you were waiting outside on the step. You looked tired and had lost weight which worried him because you were small to begin with. “Hey.” He spoke not really knowing what else to say. “Hi.” You said and he could hear how sore your voice sounded almost like you had been crying. You were smoking, which was something new, but he figured this was just as stressful for you as it was him You handed him an envelope with his name on it. “Uh, I cleaned the whole apartment, and nothing was broken so we could all the money back. Your half is in there, so I just need your key to give to the landlord.” You explained looking at Chase. He pulled his keys from his pocket fumbling with the ring.

 “Y’know, I never meant”- “Please don’t” “Please don’t want?” Chase looked at you confused. He thought you wanted an apology. “I can’t listen to it Chase. I know it’s mean, but I’m not ready to hear you apologize. I’m just starting to get better, and I don’t need you to set me back again.” You explained looking him the eyes. He flinched when you said again. He handed the key back to you. “Thanks, I hope everything works out. I’ll make sure to watch the show.” You smiled at him and he didn’t realize how much he missed seeing you smile. He returned the smile before turning on his heels to leave. “For the record Y/N, you weren’t the only one to get hurt in this.” And it was your turn to flinch at his words. “I guess grief looks better on some people.” And with that you escaped back into your apartment sliding down the door letting out a silent cry. What you didn’t know was that Chase was going back to his car to the same thing.

TAGLIST:

@drewstarkeysbitchh @taylathornton @jjmaybankzz @lemur46

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Hello! ¡Hola! Ciao! Salut ! So question: what would you do if you ever met Gilbert, Lovi and Arthur in real life? And possibly where would be the location of your meeting? 🙃

Dear Ancients are you trying to kill me? @_@

Salutations, Lovely~ I'll try to be as... realistic as I can here, I guess.

First off, I at least know from experience that I would keep my panic at bay until I was finally alone again, when I would have a full on meltdown. I don't-

How do you cope with meeting someone you've been lowkey daydreaming about for the past ten years? Silently vow to yourself to keep calm and carry the fuck on, and make sure you never let them find out that you've been writing fanfiction about them for near a decade.

As for how I would meet them?

Well, that's honestly a really hard one to answer, luv. ^_^; Despite my severe social anxiety, I casually befriend people all the time, in some of the most unpredictable ways.

I based each of these loosely off of how I actually met some of my friends, as realistically I can't even begin to narrow down just how I meet/befriend people.

Arthur I know would be the most likely candidate for actually, unintentionally running into. My ultimate goal for years has been to move back to London on a permanent basis, hopefully earn my Masters equivalent in History or Journalism. Now, I gotta be honest, I was rarely ever in my dorm except to sleep; there was a whole city to see!

I got roped into a giant game of Manhunt in Southwark with a bunch of (at that time) strangers, I wandered the damp silt along the Thames when the tide was low, bonding with some Crawlers over the cool ass artifacts we found, and there was Brazilian student I became Whats App buddies with during a weekend bus trip to Belgium, bonding over our books, the fact we were the only singles in a tour group filled with couples, and everything we thought the other should explore back in London.

I can honestly say that Arthur is... Welp, I just think out of the three of them, however we meet would be the most random happenstance. Maybe he's the punk I bonded with while in the queue outside Garfunkle's, singing along to the vintage tunes and gradually loosening up into overly dramatic faces and silly dances.

Gilbert would... As much as I love him, I feel like in real life he would probably intimidate me at first.

He reminds me of these guys I met in Montmartre that started walking with me, rambling at me in French, then English, trying their damndest to convince me to let them buy me a coffee. I thought I was in the clear when I used Italian to say I didn't understand what they were saying, and my fucking luck that one of them was fluent in Italian, too. Or maybe he's like the guy who was at the Venice airport waiting for the same flight, bored out of his mind and playing wallball with a small bouncy ball he had in his pocket, who I ended up asking to join when my roommate fell asleep on her then-boyfriend, now-husband. Or he'd be like the kid who accidentally got locked into Regent's Park after hours, and I helped him climb over the fence to get back out. Or maybe he's the guy I made laugh in an Amsterdam grocery store because of my mini meltdown over finally finding Cool American Doritos at 10 pm, who then helped me figure out exactly which pre-sliced deli meat was turkey-esque.

The thing with Gil is that he's such an extrovert that I could see him being the one more likely initiating any possible friendships.

And then there's Lovino.

If he were true to canon, he's more than likely the one approaching me. Maybe he's the guy who rescued me in Rome from the tourist trap gladiator actors, who will gladly take pictures with you, but don't tell you till after that you're suppose to pay them for each photo. Or maybe he's the guy from the flight to Roma, who was on the phone before takeoff cursing lowly in Italian about politics, and for my dumbass and smart mouth to immediately start commiserating with him, the next hour and a half spent venting to each other about our nations' mutually terrible politicians, and the woes of living in the hellishly expensive London. Or, or! Lovi could be the man I saw in the Barcelona airport at 4 am eating breakfast, who was just so beautiful that all of my party kept checking him out. My philosophy has always kind of been to regret the things that you do rather than didn't do, so as we all got ready to head for our gate, I politely approached him to tell him that he was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. And his smile-

To this day, whoever that man was, he is still the most beautiful person I had ever seen. But when I said that, and he smiled at the compliment, only to return it with this earnestness that still makes my heart flutter even as I write this well over five years later-

Anyway.

I'm sorry this got so long, but really I'm not quite sure how else I could go about this. ^_^;

I make friends in all kinds of situations, something that's both a curse and a blessing. I couldn't possibly guess the circumstances, couldn't even begin to imagine how or when it'll happen.

Just keep an open mind, an open heart, and find confidence in who you are, and the rest pretty much follows~

Thanks for the ask, Lovely!

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: Ethan Hunt Must Die 1/1

Pairing: August Walker x YOU

Word Count: 10,420

Summary: You are a medic and a member of what’s left of  The Apostles. And it’s not rumour anymore. August Walker is definitely not dead. All you want to do is help him with his cause, kill those responsible for his grave injuries (and foiling his manifesto) and make Ethan Hunt pay. Falling in love with August Walker is just a given ;)

Rating: Mature to Explicit some Violence, sex and fluff and yearning and impetuous kisses, explosions and delicious August Walker.  And, this story is not as serious as it may appear, so have fun reading.

Note: If you have been around you’ve seen the original iteration of this story, but maybe not in its entirety. It was originally broken up into 10 parts as A Month of August Walker Challenge. Now, in all of its revamped glory is the complete story all in one place.  

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Your contact was a pleasant woman. She’d collected you from the tiny airport in Kashmir and on the way to your destination, she’d offered to buy snack food for you from a nearby shop.

‘The cabin is fully stocked,’ she reasoned pointing to the squat building by the side of the road, ‘but in case you want a Coke or something.’

You did want a Coke in fact and you took her up on the offer. Along with a few cans of cola you grabbed other items – chocolate bars, fishing tackle, and feminine hygiene products. You didn’t know how long you were going to be out there in the middle of nowhere, and you didn’t want to use up the precious bog roll when your cycle eventually came.

The woman was leaning against the side of the battered truck and smoking a cigarette when you stepped out of the shop. Eyeing your purchases, she nodded with approval.

‘Good idea,’ she said, making a vague gesture towards you with her cigarette. ‘We didn’t think about a woman’s needs during such a long excursion. Next time. There are all sorts of painkillers in the stocks though… just so you are aware.’

She put a gloved hand on her lower belly and laughed a little.

‘I know how it can get.’

You smiled, grateful to be sharing this moment with her, woman to woman, and thanked her before getting back into the truck.

‘Is there gonna be a next time?’ you asked, sweeping the seatbelt across your chest and clicking it into place.

She didn’t look at you as she started the truck and set off down the road.

‘I hope this is the last, ‘ she said finally and as it seemed like such a struggle for her to come up with an answer that she seemed satisfied with, you didn’t continue to press the matter.

Settling into the seat, you unwrapped a chocolate bar, and with three large bites, had it stuffed into your mouth. The salty chocolate and nougat were glorious and you moulded the sweet wad into the roof of your mouth so that you could savour it with slow licks.  You folded the plastic-coated wrapper into a small square and tucked it in your jacket pocket.

The woman drove along the rough frosty mountain roads as if you two were being chased. She didn’t seem at all phased with how the truck bounced and jumped dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, as if one wrong turn of the wheel wouldn’t send the two of you plunging down into the river below.

That imagery triggered sudden rage in you.

Goddamn you, Ethan Hunt, you thought.

You wanted just two minutes alone with Hunt to make him regret having ever laid eyes on August Walker. Hunt deserved nothing but a long slow torturous death.

Ever since the incident, The Apostles had been split on what to do regarding  August Walker. Should he be left out there and forgotten? Or should his remains be recovered and given a proper burial?

The thought that there was nothing left to recover prevailed until reports that August had survived the fall started trickling in. With this new knowledge, it was impossible to prevent the uprising that voted to scour the mountains to find him. This time, your only mission was to man the cabin in the event one of the search teams found him.

‘Not far to the cabin. Ayami is apart of the search team. You know her, yes?’ asked the woman.

‘Yes. I know her.’

‘Good, Ayami planned all of this, coordinated us, and was able to pinpoint a location not far from this cabin.’

Not enough planning for a menstrual cycle, you thought, petulantly.

‘It will work out,’ she continued and nodded. ‘He will be found.’

‘This is the third time someone has,’ you made inverted commas in the air with your fingers, ‘pinpointed his location, only to run into IMF lies. We are wasting precious time. August is alive and we need to find him.’

The woman drove on in silence for a moment.

‘I agree with you, yes. I agree. But what do you suggest that we do? If not this.’

You relented and sighed. You had no idea what to do other than this.

‘If I could snap my fingers…’

You clicked your fingers and she chuckled, clicking hers as well.

‘He would be safe with us,’ she finished for you.

A half hour later, she slowed and finally stopped the truck and pointed through the windscreen at what looked like a stack of fallen trees.

‘Unfortunately, my friend,’ she said. ‘There is a way to drive up to the cabin. However, it is many, many kilometres that way and petrol for me is hard to come by right. It’s easier to drop you here and you take the trail. It’s only a few hours hike.’

You grabbed your rucksack from the foot well, reached over and one-arm hugged the woman and then got out. She did a wide circle turn around and pulled the truck up to where you stood.

‘Good luck, my friend. And take care.’

‘Take care,’ you said. ‘See you soon.’

She gave you a two-fingered salute and drove away.

**

It was cold that far up in the mountains and the beginning of the trail looked desolate. Securing your rucksack on your back, you began your long trek, and the cabin was a welcome sight after hours of navigating the rocky hard terrain.  Inside was small and utilitarian, but it was more than enough for you. You didn’t bother to take off your boots before falling onto the cot and into a deep exhausted sleep.

In the morning, you took stock of your surroundings. The cabin was pretty well-appointed with a wood stove, a table with two chairs, an amazingly comfortable cot and stacks and stacks of supplies. The gold-painted metal ammo closet in the back was comforting to see and you were going to familarise yourself with its contents later. But first, breakfast.

You got up to make coffee and noticed a medium-sized cardboard box sitting on the small dining table by the stove. There was a note.

‘Your name was given to me at the last moment. Here are some things you may need.’

And it was signed, ‘Ayami’.

You slit open the box with your pocket knife and laughed when you saw the contents. Ayami had packaged not only tampons and pads but several different styles of menstrual cups for you and you felt guilty for earlier, being such a brat about the supplies you needed.

‘You planned everything, Ayami,’ you said aloud to the empty room. ‘Thank you.’

You lit the fire in the stove and put a pot on to boil some water. A noise outside pricked your ears. It sounded like the heavy motor of an ATV and out of the noise you picked out the sounds of other engines drawing closer.

Shit! you thought, rushing to the ammo closet at the back of the cabin.

Flinging open the doors, you dragged out a single barrel shotgun, loaded it, and scrambled back to the front cabin door. Peering out through the narrow window you watched as several four-wheelers and one battered Land Rover raced towards the cabin. In a cloud of kicked up dirt and dust, the Rover drove straight up to the door and to your absolute surprise, the passenger door popped open and Ayami jumped out.

You opened the cabin door and came out.

‘Good!’ she shouted over the noise of the engines. ‘You’re here. Get the first aid boxes ready, now!’

You were a medic and understood the urgency in her tone. You ran back to the cabin and were piling bandages, antiseptics, and other items on the table when three men carried in a limp body between them. Ayami strode across the room and captured you in a hug.

‘I am happy to see you,’ she gasped breathlessly and grabbed your hands. ‘We found him!’

With heart crashing against your ribs, you looked to the man being stretched on the cot as Ayami continued.

Oh God… they found him.

‘Somehow some wanderers discovered him months ago and took him in.’

She trailed off and shook her head. She still seemed to be in shock.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ you told her and squeezed her hands. ‘We’re looking after him now. Radio in for helicopter transport. It may take a few days to get someone out here.’

You cleaned your hands and went to assess the situation. August was alive and badly burned, but gladly not beyond your repair. Ayami came back into the cabin after making the call and joined you at the bed.

‘You planned all of this, Ayami,’ you said. ‘You made this happen. What’re our next step?’

Ayami put her hand on your shoulder and smiled viciously.

‘To make Ethan Hunt pay.’

**

You were wrong.

It didn’t take a few days for the helicopter to arrive. It took two weeks. Although the cabin was well stocked and had nearly everything you needed to tend to August’s wounds, it wasn’t enough.

Ayami wanted to leave and take August the long way through the mountains. They had the power to transport him over land and it was fucking stupid to leave him at the cabin to succumb to something that could be fixed. His body was fighting a raging infection and frankly, he was losing. You explained to her your reasons for why it would be tough on August to try to drive with him through such hard terrain.  He was in a fragile state and jostling him all around in an unstable car could exacerbate any internal injuries. A chopper ride would be better.

Ayami understood that, however…

‘We’ve got plenty of antibiotics,’ she said reasonably. ‘Why can’t we give him some?’

‘Because we don’t know what he has. He could have a bacterial or viral infection and just picking something to give him might do more harm than good. I don’t want to take that risk.’

It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to pump him full of all of the pills you had, just to scattershot the infection, but incorrectly dosing him, in his weakened state,   might kill him. August Walker was alive and you were going to keep him that way.

So you did your best. With Ayami’s help, you kept him clean and dry and in order to manage his temperature, iced. August, however, foiled your attempts to tend to him effectively. He was delirious and unaware of  what was happening to him. More than once you had to extract yourself from his vice-like grip as he held onto you and growled guttural threats of violence to your person. All you could do was try to soothe him and mop his brow and use the aspirin to dull his obvious pain.

**

During the wait for air transport, you stayed up some nights with August. Sometimes you just sat at his bedside and read by the light of your headlamp. Sometimes you just watched him, held his hand and stroked his hair when nightmares haunted his sleep.

He would heal pretty well, you observed, and, without too much lasting damage to his face. He was fortunate that the hot oil missed his eye, although it ruined his ear. But you knew that too could be reconstructed.

‘We’re gonna get you back on your feet, August,’ you murmured on those nights when he was at his most fitful. ‘And we’re gonna get those people who did this to you.’

Even though you weren’t sure he could even hear you speaking, you continued to encourage and comfort him.  It was the least you could do.

**

‘You met John Lark before?’ Ayami asked over breakfast one morning, using August’s real name for the first time.

‘When he was going by John Lark?’ you asked for clarification and she nodded. ‘No. Not then. He had already assumed the new identity and was in the CIA when I turned up.’

‘He was not always like this,’ she said a bit cryptically.

‘How was he?’

Interest sparked in you.

She shook her head.

‘Just different. Maybe he’ll tell you someday.’

Ayami smiled at you and you turned, alerted by the soft groan coming from the bed.

‘Oh God, he’s waking up again,’ she chuckled and then asked you, ‘Top or bottom.’

You laughed inspite of yourself and gave the choice a moment’s thought. ‘Top’ meant that you got to administer medication, clean up his face and check his bandages, while ‘bottom’ meant that you would have to wrestle with his strong flailing arms and risk getting punched in the face. Ayami looked at you expectantly and you grimaced.

‘I had top last time, so…’

She smiled and got up, patting your arm in passing. ‘Then you get top this time.’

‘Ayami, c’mon,’ you protested rising from the chair. ‘I don’t want to be unfair.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ she said lifting her arms and flexing her biceps. ‘But, I need my workout.’

**

Ayami needed to stay in Kashmir to tie up some loose ends. So, you said your farewells and parted company when the chopper transport finally arrived.

You, on the other hand, were headed to New Delhi where another contact would meet and relieve you of your August-sitting duties.

Exhausted and battered, it was just after midnight when you finally arrived at the airport.  Out through the cloudy bubble heli-window, you saw the second contact rush to the settling helicopter. You unlatched an dragged open the side door.

‘Hello!’ he shouted over the roar of the blades overhead. ‘It’s Janus. You can come with me!’

‘Where am I going?’ you shouted back, not moving from where you were sitting next to August’s prone body.

He was still blissfully unconscious and sleeping quietly.

‘There is a safehouse here. You can rest. We will transport Walker to the small plane over there and continue on to London.’

You shook your head and were able to speak normally when the blades finally shuddered to a stop.

‘I’ll go on,’ you told Janus. ‘I’ll go on, it’s ok. I’ll stay with him.’

Janus looked puzzled.

‘No, you are to go to the safe house. I am to continue on.’

You had come this far. You weren’t going to leave August, so you again declined the offer of a trade.

‘Now. Come on. I’m not going to quibble with you,’ you said, kicking open the other door so that the two men accompanying Janus could wrangle the stretcher out of the chopper.

You watched them carry August off and jumping out of the heli, you turned to Janus.

‘Be well, my friend. But I’ve got it.’

Janus shrugged a little and nodded, seeing that you weren’t going to be swayed.

‘Is it really him?’ he asked and you could hear relief seeping into his voice.

You put your arms around him in a farewell hug.

‘It is,’ you said. ‘You have Ayami to thank for that. Make sure that you do.’

You ran after the two men carrying the stretcher. The men secured the stretcher inside and turned to help you into the back of the plane. You pulled closed the small plane’s door and made sure that August was securely strapped in. It was going to be another long ride to the final safe house.

**

It was raining in London, and as the small plane approached, the cool precipitation rinsed away grey foggy clouds to reveal the golden city. Through your headset, you listened to the pilot talk to air traffic control and learned that you were headed to Blackbushe Airport.

‘How far is the safe house from the airport?’ you asked the pilot.

‘Not far. Maybe 20 kilometers. Not far.’  

You were so ready to put your feet on land that you closed your eyes and envisioned a soft bed, a hot meal, and an even hotter bath. Glancing down at the still sleeping man on the stretcher at your feet, you felt a rise of tender feelings in your heart. Not only had your team recovered August Walker, alive, but you had a personal hand in his convalescence.  Reaching down, you touched his face. He felt hot, but not as feverish as before and you were relieved. Elevated fevers for sustained periods of time were dangerous and although he wasn’t out of the woods yet, he was better. You brushed a curl of brown hair off of his forehead and smoothed the edge of your thumb across his eyebrow. Yes, he was going to heal well and regain his strength to be able to fight another day.

Blackbushe Airport was small but efficient and there was a black, solid paneled van waiting for you. You helped the men with the stretcher and once August had been secured, you pulled yourself into the offered front passenger seat.  The driver nodded to acknowledge your presence and you put on your seatbelt as the van drove off.

Someone tapping on the window jarred you from the nap you didn’t realise you had fallen into. With a wet grunt, you sat up, reflexively swiped the back of your hand across your mouth, and dried the drool which had pooled in the corner. Hand still to your mouth, you shifted to look through the window. It was the driver and he made a gesture for you to get out.

You nodded to show that you understood and he moved off. Behind you in the cargo part of the van, you could hear men talking and then sounds of strain when they lifted the stretcher. Even unconscious, August wasn’t for the weak or fainthearted. You chuckled at your own analogy, unclipped the seatbelt and opened the door. Your legs wobbled when your feet hit the ground and you pressed back against the closed door until you felt that you could walk without collapsing. It took a while for your legs to finally firm and when they did you followed the men into the medium sized country manor house.

Inside smelt of cedar and pine. Your footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as you walked into the charming front room and looked up at all of the old portraits and paintings and decorative weapons. Twin staircases, one on each side of the front room,  dog-legged up to the next level.  You approached a tall round table with a large vase of fresh flowers and walked around it. You peeked into dark rooms and soon found yourself in an equally as charming country kitchen. There was a man in there wearing a black jumper and blue jeans, drinking from a white mug.

‘Ah!’ he said when he saw you. ‘Come in, come in. Coffee?’

Aware that you looked particularly filthy and bedraggled, compared to his crispness, you cleaned your hands on your cargo trousers and stepped into the room.

‘Yes, please.’

The man obliged, saying, ‘It’s only instant, I’m afraid.’

Instant was fine and you didn’t protest when he handed you a cup.

‘And it’s terrible,’ he added with a laugh. ‘I’ve only just arrived and haven’t had a chance to flush out all of the pipes. Everything happened so fast.’

You nodded and drank the metallic tasting coffee without complaint.

‘Ayami, then. Right?’

You knew what he was asking. Ayami was the conductor of this orchestra and she deserved all of the credit.

‘Yes.’

‘Fuck… she’s a legend.’

Finishing the cup without much tasting it, you handed it back to him.

‘I’d like to clean up and make sure that he’s… that August is ok for the night.’

He took the cup and was nodding as he put both yours and his into the sink.

‘Sure, sure. I can do that. There is a room ready for the both of you. Come on, I’ll show you.’

You followed him up the stairs and down a quiet, thickly carpeted hallway which was also lined with gaily painted portraits. Upon reaching the room at the end, he stepped aside to let you go in first.

There was a trio of men in there, that you recognised as the medical team and the room had been set up like a well-stocked hospital room. The lemon yellow wallpaper with its sunflower print was a pleasant contrast to the medical equipment and other paraphernalia. The men greeted you and they all shared a happy look. You knew why and yes, you shared it too. You said nothing as you watched them undress and bathe August, glad that he could finally receive more focused treatment.

‘And my room?’ you asked.

August didn’t need you now and you had to look after yourself. Mr instant coffee led you back down the hall and showed you your bedroom and amenities. When he left you, you threw your rucksack on the floor by the bed, stripped out of your filthy clothes, and immediately ran a bath. When you finally emerged, refreshed, and clean down to your toes, you found a sandwich and cola waiting on the table next to the bed. You devoured it in a few bites but drank the cola slowly as you unpacked your rucksack. All the way at the bottom,  and rolled around a pair of thick socks was a clean shirt and sweatpants which you quickly pulled on. You sat on the edge of the bed and finished the cola.

Flopping onto your side and closing your eyes, you intended to rest for only a moment. However, sleep had other ideas.

**

Sunlight streamed in through the windows behind you and you woke suddenly then rolled over. On the wall at the head of the bed, a pleasant-looking woman smiled down at you from a pastoral painting and you were groggy enough to smile back. Rubbing your face you sat up, yawned, and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, staying there a moment to contemplate the night before. You hadn’t slept that well in a very long time and you were grateful to have finally got some rest. That old bed was a godsend.

After washing and dressing in clean clothes, you stood in the corridor outside your room door and looked down the hallway to where August slept.  His door was closed. The scent of coffee wafting up the stairs alerted you that someone else was awake and you wondered if it was Mr Instant coffee down there still flushing out the pipes and drinking metallic tasting coffee. You decided to leave him to it and you walked to August’s room.

You tapped on the door but there was no answer, so you turned the doorknob and let yourself in.  August was still asleep. The IV drip bag was half empty and the bandages on his face were bright and clean. He looked much better in the warm morning light and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. You smoothed down the patch of  IV tape on the back of his hand and August startled a yelp out of you when he moved.

His eyes were open and you found yourself under the clear scrutiny of the infamous August Walker. Before your inglorious meeting at the cabin, you had never been this close to him. The two of you never spoke nor had you even been in the same room.

His eyes moved all over your face as if hunting for something and you stood still letting him complete his inspection. When recognition finally bloomed in his eyes, he relaxed.

You ventured to put your hand over his.

‘Do you remember me?’ you asked.

‘I remember,’ he answered, voice raspy from disuse.

August fell silent and it seemed to take effort for him to speak.

‘I… remember you read to me.’

Your heart skipped with elation.

‘Yes.’

Breathing out a breath, August closed his eyes.

‘Thank you.’

‘We’ll make him pay, August,’ you said when he was quiet. ‘All of them.’

It didn’t matter that he had succumbed to sleep again and probably didn’t hear you. Ethan Hunt was going to pay.

**

It was fortunate Mr. Instant Coffee, as you dubbed him, was around to cook and clean because you weren’t about to look after Walker and do the domestic duties as well.

As the weeks drifted by and August grew stronger, you turned your interest away from him and to revenge.

Retribution, you liked to say to yourself. It was a much better word and to pull it off, you needed a team.

Ayami, of course, was on board. She was always up for some violence and you loved her for it. She knew exactly who you needed and how to contact them. And, if you were going to go through with it, all the way, you needed a solid plan. Every piece had to be in place for the whole machine to move forward. No stone could remain unturned.

You spent a lot of time in that country kitchen with plans and schematics and blueprints spread out in front of you on the table. The first order of business was to find the persons responsible; Benji, Ilsa, Luther and Hunt.

Find them, and observe.

‘That’s it,’ you’d told Ayami. ‘Find them and observe. Record their patterns, their travel, their habits, their pubs, markets, clothing stores, everything.’

You made sure to have rotating team members on each target so that said target would not recognise any reoccurring faces and become suspicious. IMF was a clever, skittish bunch and the way to lure them into the trap was to be patient and deliberate.

Early one morning, about three months into your stay at the safe house, a heavy thumping down the stairs distracted you from your research.

You got up, refilled your coffee and then poured a second fresh cup. Returning to the table you put the second cup in the space across from where you had been sitting. For two weeks now, August had been testing his newly found strength and had insisted on getting up and moving around own his own. He’d recently been cut out of his arm cast and was able to navigate his way on crutches. And on mornings after breakfast when he could get himself out of bed, he usually banged down the stairs and hobbled into the kitchen.

After a few days of this, you started preparing a cup of coffee for him. Whether he was looking for coffee or not, you always put out a second cup when you heard him coming down. And August was actually polite and thankful for the gesture. It surprised you. You expected him to be this gruff and grumpy take charge team leader who didn’t have time for underlings. When, in fact, August Walker was a very pleasant man.

‘Morning,’ you heard him say from the kitchen’s doorway.

‘Morning,’ you replied, nodding to the coffee cup.

He took up his regular place across from you, and leaned the crutches against the bench seat.

You looked at him finally. The bandages were all off of his face now (except for the one remaining to protect his damaged ear) and the swelling had gone down.

What was at first considered full-thickness burns were actually only partial-thickness and he could heal without skin grafts.

He looked, you decided, pretty normal. Handsome, in fact and you wanted to reach out to touch him.

He saw you examining him and he made an aborted attempt to touch his face.

‘No, it ahh… it’s good. You look much better. Really,’ you said quickly.

He picked up the coffee and drank slowly.

‘Does it still hurt?’

‘No,’ he said into the cup and changed the subject. ‘What have we got?’

Right back to business, you thought. Of course. None of this ‘feelings’ stuff for him.

‘The only one we got consistent eyes on is Luther. I guess they’re not using him these days, so he’s staying put. He’s in the States and looks to have a vacation home in Florida. If he has a third place, we don’t know about it yet.’

August listened and nodded and you swore you could see a little smile starting to play across his mouth. Not wanting it to disappear, you showed him photos of Ilsa.

‘I think, she thinks she’s clever. At first she was darting around, doing the whole ‘spy’ thing. It was cute. Now, not so much. I’d like to take her… if you agree.’

August looked up at you and that little smile was still there. In fact he looked particularly pleased with you.

‘Don’t worry. Hunt’s for last. We’re saving him for you.’

August held your gaze and you felt a thrill race through you.

‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘I want you to do whatever you want to do. I trust you.’

You brightened considerably and resisted the urge to clap your hands with delight. Having August Walker’s trust had made the day golden.

**

A few days later, the thumping down the stairs distracted you from your work. Smiling a little, you got up and poured a fresh cup of coffee and sat it on the table across from you. Then as an afterthought, you got up again and plated a few chocolate Hobnobs that Mr. Instant Coffee had bought with the weekly grocery. You had barely put the plate down before August appeared in the kitchen doorway.

Seeing the mid-morning snacks waiting for him, he smiled a little and now down to one crutch from two, he hobbled into the kitchen and sat down in his usual spot across from you.

‘Look at you, speedster,’ you teased.

August’s brows rose with pleasure, but he smothered his growing smile by lifting his cup and drinking the coffee.

‘I prefer your coffee to the other one,’ said August, raising his eyes to meet yours.

You hesitated to meet his gaze, and when you did, the praise in his face melted you.

August quickly looked away and down at the plans on the table between the two of you.

‘So, tell me.’

He gestured with the cup to the papers.

You grinned, feeling pleased with your progress.

‘Ilsa. I finally got a bead on her. And I will be travelling to her location today.’

‘Today?’ he asked, sounding surprised and your brows drew together a little.

‘Too soon? I mean.. do you want to come?’

August shook his head and suddenly looked concerned.

‘I don’t want you rushing into something.’

Ah, was that it?

You reached out to tap the back of his hand with your index finger.

‘Whilst I thoroughly enjoy your concern, there’s no need for it. Do you umm, want a trophy? An eyeball? A finger?’

August was clearly surprised, and your offer startled a laugh out of him.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘No, I don’t want any of that. But ah… I appreciate your vigour.’

You smiled at him.

‘You sure?’

He laughed a little, again, and asked, ‘And your flight?’

‘Coupla hours,’ you replied checking your wristwatch.

‘And your plan?’

‘Delicious,’ you promised.

And it was.

**

Los Angeles was hot and sweltering and you were not prepared for the weather. But you didn’t let that deter you, for you had a mission to accomplish.

You found the target sitting at a table beneath a colourful umbrella at a crowded outdoor cafe.

Carrying several bags emblazoned with names of high-end shops you stopped by her table, made a show of looking into the cafe and then down at the chair across from her.

She looked up at you and you tried a smile.

‘Hi, I am sooo sorry, but do you mind if I just sit here. I am dying in this heat!’

As you were actually dying in the western heat, you knew that you came across sincerely. She took a moment to consider you. Judging you harmless, she nodded to the chair and you collapsed onto it gratefully.

‘Oh, thank you, honey. That’s so good of you. I thought I was going to get all of my shopping over and done with before noon, but you know how it is. Just one more shop, one more try on…. maybe they got those shoes in the back in your size, right? Am I right?

You giggled easily and she nodded, then glanced into the cafe.

‘I gotta wear these gloves to that my hands don’t tan,’ you said watching her. ‘There’s nothing worse than having your arms one colour and your hands 5 shades darker.’

Ignoring you, she raised her hand hoping to alert the waiter standing inside.

He eased up to the table.

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘I ordered my…’

‘Yes, I know ma’am. We are working on it right now, please give us some time. The broiler is currently holding on by a thread. May I offer you a cold drink? On the house?’

You looked at her and she sighed.

‘Sure, go on. You want one?’

Her attention was on you.

You shrugged.

‘Sure! I’ll have what she’s having.’

The two of you chatted amiably for a little while and the waiter returned with your drinks. You immediately sipped at the fizzy fruit drink and put your glass down next to hers.

Several minutes later someone inside shouted, ‘Janie Fellows?’

The woman across from you stirred and then stood up.

‘Finally,’ she said and went inside to pick up her order.

You watched her go and quickly, unobtrusively, dumped the contents of your travel perfume bottle into her glass.

Ilsa returned with a plate brimming with meat and salad and set it on her placemat.

‘Looks good,’ you said admiring the dish. ‘I might get one, but I do need to get on, I think.’

‘You can stay as long as you like,’ she assured you and began her meal.

You sat and chatted whilst she ate and finished her drink.

You were in the middle of a long drawn out story about your imaginary husband when she stopped devouring the rare steak.

Ilsa dropped her fork and you turned towards her.

‘Something wrong?’ you asked, faux concern in your voice as you let your natural accent slip. ‘You’ve gone quite pale… Janie.’

Ilsa’s wide eyes shot up to your face and she spat out her chewed mouthful.

‘I probably overdosed you,’ you said quietly. ‘I mean, you were ten pounds heavier the last time I checked. But you and your hot yoga classes have done wonders. I might take it up myself.’

Eyes bulging as the poison squeezed closed her throat, Ilsa gurgled and staggered upright. The chair screeched on the concrete, fell away and you got up.

‘August Walker says, hello,’ you snarled at her. Then changing your attitude to something more helpless you shouted, ‘Oh My God! I think she’s having a seizure, help, help!’

A crowd began to form allowing you to slip away, but not before giving the thumbs up to Mr. Instant Coffee who had posed as your waiter who had perfectly distracted the mark enough for you to poison her drink.

**

‘Went well, I take it?’ August asked when you bustled into the kitchen the next morning.

There was coffee waiting for you at your usual spot.

You threw your arms round his neck and gave him a hearty kiss in greeting.

‘Better than you could ever imagine!’ you crowed and left him in stunned silence.

**

Distracted by the noise coming from the upper floor, you looked up from the laptop. The thumping down the stairs had been sounding a little less clumsy lately, now that August had finally regained control over his healing limbs. You were glad for it, because it meant that the infamous August Walker was out of the woods and on the mend.

You got up, poured a fresh cup of coffee, and was just setting it down when August came into the kitchen.

‘Morning!’ you called brightly, like the little homemaker you fancied yourself to be.

Well, you fancied yourself to be the kind of homemaker who didn’t keep house, but made coffee and assassination plans. You turned the cup so that the handle faced August when he straddled the bench and sat down across from you.

‘Thank you,’ he said picking up the cup and drinking deeply.

Smiling fondly, you considered him a moment and looked at the fresh bandage on his ear.

‘It’s ear day soon, isn’t it?’

Ear day, as you called it, was literally when August got his new outer ear to replace the one that had been damaged.  Contacts in one of the world’s leading biotech labs had been cultivating new skin and cartilage from his own cells and were ready for transplantation.  August had been putting off the surgery, ever since the fire of killing off the IMF team had been lit. He wanted a clear conscience before proceeding with any additional cosmetic surgery.

August lifted his gaze, but not directly to you. He looked at a spot on the table which was still littered with papers and blueprints and your laptops and a muscle bunched in his jaw, alerting you that he was uncomfortable with this line of discussion. You were never one to back down from a subject you wanted to pursue, so you pressed him gently.

‘I think… well, I think it’s gonna be fine. The surgery will be fine. You’ll have a brand spanking new appendage and everything’s gonna be fine.’

You watched his eyes sweep the length of the table, in an obvious attempt to avoid looking at you.

‘You suffered no hearing loss, on that side, the skin is mending itself nicely and the doctors even said that there was no follicle damage. Those curls will be coming back in no time.’

He scoffed.

‘I don’t care about that.’

‘Yes you do,’ you said with a tiny grin. ‘Yes you do, you care. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t look like this.’

You waved an appraising hand in his direction.

‘August Walker, meet August Walker. He cares about his looks.’

‘I’m not vain,’ August scowled, putting the cup down and finally looking you in the face

You softened your teasing just a little.

‘I didn’t say you were vain. There’s nothing wrong with a man who looks after his appearance. It’s… sexy.’

That stopped him and a spark of pleasure brightened his face.

You continued to lay it on thick.

‘Come now, a good looking guy like you? And you don’t know it? I find that hard to believe.’

He snorted quietly.

‘Do you ever think something that you don’t say?’ he asked, lifting a dark brow.

You leaned in on your elbows.

‘There are loads of things that I think, that I don’t say. That doesn’t mean that I won’t say them eventually.’

August’s lips lengthened into an inquisitive smile.

‘Like?’

‘Like?’ you repeated and decided to come clean. ‘I just said that you were sexy.’

You made an airy, dismissive gesture.

‘That’s not a new thought.’

You felt a chill manifest as a soft, insistent tingling that skittered all along your skin. Everything you’d hidden about your feelings for him was almost all the way out and you couldn’t stop yourself.

‘It’s not new that I’d do anything for the manifesto to be realised,’ you continued.

When August put down the cup, you reached out and clasped both hands over his.

‘That I’d do anything for you, August.’

The passion in your own voice stunned you. Surely, you had once again overstepped his boundaries.

First, it was kissing him without asking,  and now this, though August didn’t seem bothered by your audacity. He turned his hands up to enclose yours.

‘And I reward loyalty,’ he answered, voice low and full of promise.  

You drew in a long breath through loosely pursed lips, which August seemed to appreciate for his eyes lowered to your wet mouth. His own lips parted in response and you wondered if you climbed across that table and onto his lap, would it have been considered outlandish.

You didn’t think about any of that, as you stood up onto the wooden bench. With his handsome face brimming with delight, August held onto your hands and steadied you as you scrabbled across the table and landed astride his muscular thighs with a satisfied ‘ooof!’

He grimaced from the sudden pressure slamming down on his still tender leg and you were immediately contrite.

‘I’m sorry,’ you murmured, sliding your arms around his neck and curling your fingers into his shaggy curls. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll not play so rough next time.’

‘I like it rough,’ said August, running his hands over your hips to grip you close.

And then you kissed him, softly, fully, feeling his lips come apart beneath yours. Breathing him in, your thoughts ran wild.

I could get used to this. I could indulge in this all day. I could–

Then, ever a man of ill timing, Mr. Instant Coffee bustled into the kitchen, and it took him a moment to realise what he was interrupting.

‘Oh, shite, ok… uhh so that’s happening. Ok, great, but ah, you two… we need to get a move on. The car leaves in ten.’

And then he was gone, leaving you staring at the recently vacated kitchen doorway with your arms dangling over August’s shoulders. Reluctantly, you backed off of August’s lap and smiling, you cupped his cheek, pressed your thumb against the dimple in his chin and walked off to grab your travel bag.

It was back to the States again, the keys of Florida where Luther Stickell was vacationing on a secluded houseboat.

**

Stickell was not hard to find. His boat was moored in one of the farthest berths and was lit up like Christmas. He was having a party.

So much for keeping a low profile, you thought as you stepped off of the elegant cabin cruiser that had been rented for your mission. Your craft was berthed far enough away from his that no one in Stickell’s party could see August in his scuba gear, stepping off the low deck and into the dark water.

Standing on a nearby wooden piling, a pair of seagulls watched you suspiciously, the way birds do, and you lifted a finger to your lips, shushing them.

Holding a pair of strappy heels in your hand, you walked down the slatted dock between yachts and other smaller boats.  You purposefully wore a skimpy sequined dress, in the hopes of talking your way into the party. There were casually dressed men standing on the dock and smoking and they stopped talking as you approached. They didn’t look like bodyguards, but just like regular blokes. Easy to manipulate.

‘Hullo!’ you called happily, flapping your hand at them in greeting, affecting tipsiness. ‘I couldn’t help coming over. I just came from another get-together, but I’m not done partying yet. Ya��ll mind if I… ’

You made a walking motion with your index and middle fingers towards the boat. One of the men smiled and swaggered towards you. He held out a hand which you took and he led you to the edge of the boat, then helped you down the stairs.

Too easy.

There were people milling about on the port deck and some people playing cards inside, but not a lot was going on. It appeared to be at the tail end of the party, where people were trying to drink the last of the booze and eat the last of the food before they were forced to go home. You spotted Luther at the card table. He was laughing around a huge cigar clamped between his front teeth and then he threw the cards down on the table with a triumphant cry. The men sitting there erupted in jeers and hoots as he raked in the pile of money from the centre of the table.

Scanning the area you then went down the stairs to the toilet and stood in the dark narrow corridor thinking about August swimming around beneath your feet as he planted bomb charges against the boat’s hull.

The thought of him down there was strangely arousing.

August was stronger now, strong enough to cause mayhem with his own hands, and it was all you wanted for him. You crouched by the toilet and dug about in your handbag, pulling out one of Ayami’s personal creations – something she’d called her ‘cherry bang bang’. You drew out a black device that was flat on the bottom and round on the top. It looked harmless enough, almost like a little cake, but you knew the massive power packed into that sweetly named bomb. She had given you and August a personal demonstration of the destructive power of her little sweets. You placed a kiss on its glossy surface and adhered it to the underside of the toilet bowl.

‘You are a gem, Ayami,’ you chuckled and pushed upright.

You made your way back to the upper level and moving about unnoticed you planted more cherry bang bangs, even adhering one to each of the fishing chairs bolted to the port side deck.  

A chill settled over the harbour. The guests soon drifted inside and eventually left the party altogether.

You walked back to the rented cabin cruiser to find August waiting for you. His hair was curly and damp and there were pressure marks from the dive mask across his brow. You went up on tiptoes to kiss him. August caught you about the waist and wrapped you up in his arms, lifting you to deepen the kiss. Trapped like that against his big, hot body,  your heart throbbed excitedly. If he could elicit such wonders from your body with just a kiss and an embrace, you couldn’t imagine what other magic he could work.

‘Ready?’ he asked, bending to put you back on your feet.

You nodded and tossing your shoes aside, went to sprawl on one of the long creme coloured couches. August started the engine and guided the cruiser out of the berth. When you were a safe distance away, he reached for your hand and helped you up to the top deck.

You could see the lights of Stickell’s boat twinkling in the distance.  And after about twenty more minutes, once everyone was finally gone, Luther shut off the boat lights.  You and August got up from your deck chairs. You held up the binoculars and adjusted them until the houseboat came into sharp focus. All you could see now was the red glow of Luther’s cigar as the man sat out in one of the fishing chairs and enjoyed the rest of his evening.

August put one arm about your waist, big hand splaying across your stomach, and held up the detonator with the other.

‘Two down,’ you said and he depressed the button.

The explosion was brilliant.

Through the binoculars, you watched the boat burn and sink, but August was more interested in kissing the back of your neck and exposed shoulders to pay attention.

‘Mmmm,’ you purred slyly, leaning your head back against his shoulder. ‘Did you like that? Was it good for you?’

‘So good,’ he answered giving you one last kiss before releasing you.

You opened your mouth to say something but the distant sounds of sirens broke the silence.

Time to go, you thought and the both of you disappeared into the night.

**

You didn’t want to go back to the safehouse right away. As nice as the country house was, being cooped up between those four floral walls drove you crazy. August paid for a few nights at the Shangri-la hotel in London so that you could shower in temperatures above lukewarm, and sleep in a broad bed beneath washing detergent scented sheets.

And when August made love to you on those soft sheets,  your earlier conjecture regarding his sexual prowess, did not prepare you for the bliss you experienced with him buried deep inside you.

It was nearly nine in the morning, a few days after your expedition to the Keys, and propped up with a pillow under your armpit, you lay on your side across the hotel bed, a bowl of spag bol, and your open laptop on the white duvet in front of you. You were half under the thick covers and half out of it because the room was warm, but not uncomfortably so. August emerged from the adjoining bathroom, wearing one of the luxurious bathrobes and towelling dry his hair.

He tossed the towel across the footrest by the chair and stretched out on the bed behind you, looking over your shoulder to read the Miami Herald’s bold headline. He slid his hand beneath your tee-shirt and caressed the skin between your shoulder blades. How he figured out that you liked that, still remained a quandary, but you were glad that you didn’t have to ask for it.

‘Oh, dear,’ you said feigning distress. ‘Did you hear about the accident that happened in Florida? Tsk… such a shame.’

‘Is he dead?’ asked August, as he nuzzled your shoulder.

‘Yes, sir,’ you teased, reaching back to playfully push him off. ‘You are not paying attention.’

‘I am. I’m paying attention to what’s important.’

The implication of his statement drifted right over your head as you were too focused on proving him wrong.

He kissed your neck again and grunted when you jabbed him with an elbow.

‘Well, if you were paying attention to what was important, you’d know that…’

‘That Dunn is here in London,’ August finished for you and continued to lazily caress your back.

That shut you right up. How did he know?

‘Of course, you knew,’ you chuckled.

‘I suggest,’ said August, changing the subject and lifting his head to take your earlobe between his lips. ‘We take one more day here and then find him.’

As he spoke, August slid his hands beneath you, turned you away from the laptop and pulled you atop him. You wriggled with delight, and grasping the robe’s belt, you pulled the knot free and let it fall open.

‘Just one day?’ you asked, sliding down the length of his body to ease his cock into your mouth.

‘Anything!’ he gasped, the heat of your mouth robbing him of coherent through. ‘Whatever you want.’

You wanted at least two extra weeks after the mission.

**

When you woke hours later, August was gone. There was a note left for you on the nightstand and in his neat print he’d written, ‘Supply Run.’

You stretched under the duvet and tapped the stiff cardstock against your lower lip.

Supply Run either mean food, or guns and knowing August, it was probably the latter. You were just raiding the over-stocked minibar refrigerator when he returned to the hotel room, carrying a long black duffel which he dropped onto the chaise at the end of the bed.

‘Guns,’ you said aloud, looking up from the chilled box of chocolate.

‘What?’ he asked, shrugging out of his jacket.

You smiled and shook your head and switched on BBC World Service.

Unzipping the duffel, August asked, ‘what do you know about Sage Software?’

‘Nothing,’ you answered truthfully. ‘Who are they?’

‘They supply small business software. Dunn is working with them and hacking them.’

Taking the chocolates to the bed, you opened your laptop and searched the business. With a laugh, you rolled over onto your back and looked up at August with interest. He was smiling slightly back at you.

‘Well, what do you know?’ you said with amusement. ‘Sage is located in the Shard, which is… ’

August nodded to you and his grin widened.

‘Right downstairs,’ he finished.

‘Did you plan this? Getting a room here because he was downstairs?’ you giggled, when he leaned over to kiss you.

‘Of course. Leave nothing to chance, Princess.’

Well, that nickname was new, you thought, delighted.

‘What’s the plan, then?’

August stretched out on his back next to you and folded his hands on his belly.

‘He’s got an office on the 13th and is there most nights.’

‘Most nights,’ you repeated and waited for him to finish his thought.

‘Tonight.’

**

Dunn was surprisingly easy to pick off. You had expected for him to have cameras and monitors and other high tech stuff to alert him to the presence of anyone who came unannounced to his office. And, you were surprised that /he/ was surprised when August quietly opened the thin office door and let himself in.

You stayed in the corridor and watched the scene unfold through the narrow decorative glass panel next to the door.

Dunn obviously recognised and remembered August,  because he bolted out of his swivel chair and threw himself against the wall behind him.

‘I thought you were dead!’ you heard him shout before the silenced round splattered him across the frog poster that announced ‘work hard, play hard, live hard’.

You clapped lightly as August exited the office.

‘Well done, baby,’ you praised him. ‘But come on. I heard the lift bell. It would be stupid of us to get caught.’

All the little piggies had gone to slaughter. All except one.

**

Ethan Hunt was not a stupid man.

In fact, he was quite the opposite. He was cunning and clever and suspicious which were characteristics that helped him to remain one of the top Mi6 agents.

He also had a golden streak of very good luck and August Walker was just about to ruin that man’s whole career.

‘He went squirrely, ’ said Ayami who was pawing through a tin of broken Danish butter cookies from where she sat perched on the kitchen counter-top.

Two weeks after you returned from the Dunn business,  Ayami just turned up at the country safe-house. Much to your delight, you’d found her one morning sitting at the kitchen table having a bagel and cream tea. And you knew why she was there. Things were winding up to the big payoff and the team needed to be as consolidated as possible.

‘What does that mean?’ you asked her but it was Mr. Instant Coffee who answered.

‘Means that he knew what’s good for him and went underground.’

‘Because all of his peeps were getting murdered,’ Ayami finished cheerfully and you half expected her and Instant Coffee to slap hands in a celebratory high-five.

August sat silently in his usual place, thoughtfully turning the small white coffee cup in a circle on the table.

‘Last time he was seen?’ he asked finally.

‘Park hotel, Berlin,’ Instant Coffee read from the reports supplied by the ‘boots on the ground’ team. ‘Been there for about a week, but he hasn’t really stayed one place for more than that. We should have moved earlier.’

‘No,’ said August, not looking at him, but at the cup. ‘No, we want to give him enough rope to hang himself. Let him get complacent.’

‘Do we have time to let him get complacent?’ Instant Coffee said. ‘I mean, the longer we wait, the more time he’ll have to burrow in like a fucking tick.’

You looked at Instant Coffee for a moment. He did have a point.

‘Okay,’ August replied easily. ‘You’re right.’

At that moment, your respect for August Walker increased ten-fold. That he was able to take in the opinion of the other members of his team was unbearably sexy. He may have earned a little leg over for later that night.

‘I’m going alone,’ August announced finally, drawing the sharp attention of everyone in the room.

You reined your own reaction because an emotional response in that instant would have been inappropriate. You knew exactly why August wanted to hunt down Ethan alone. Hunt had not only gravely wounded August’s body but also his pride. His revenge was personal.

‘That’s probably not a good idea,’ said Instant Coffee, obviously feeling confident that he had scored a few brownie points a few moments earlier.

August scowled and looked to you. Meeting his gaze,  you nodded once.

‘August should face Hunt alone,’ you said to the room and then to him, added, ‘but I don’t think you should go alone.’

There was so much gratefulness in his eyes that you felt embarrassed and looked away. You didn’t want August to see the answering distress in your eyes. If the fight on the cliff side had been fair, and luck hadn’t been on Hunt’s side, August wouldn’t have lost. Tossing August over the edge was poor sportsmanship. You were afraid that Hunt would employ other clever tricks and defeat August for the second time. And now that August wanted to take on the IMF leader alone ensured that he would be left vulnerable to losing the upper hand.

You didn’t want to lose him again, but you remained silent. This was ultimately August’s decision and he had made his choice.

**

The two of you didn’t speak much on the trip to Berlin. There wasn’t much to say. You didn’t dare express to him your fears, because that would only serve to distract him with your possibly misplaced doubt. And distraction was the last thing August needed.

When he pulled up to a local hotel to drop you off, you stayed in the car, sitting quietly for a moment, unsure what to do or say. Sighing, you turned to him and reached to cup his cheek.

‘See you soon,’ you encouraged him. ‘Bring me a trophy.’

August nodded and you got out of the car.

Come back to me, you thought watching the car disappear in the afternoon traffic.

Your room faced the Berliner Fernsehturm and you could hear music from the festival going on in the square below. You took a long hot shower and stretched on the surprisingly comfortable bed. It wasn’t the Shangri-la, but it was charming and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep.

The room door thunking shut as if a heavy weight collapsed against it awoke you hours later. With a gasp, you shot upright and reached for your weapon. You couldn’t remember where the light switch was, so when you scrambled up from the bed, you backed up to the table under the window and jerked open the curtains to let in the artificial outdoor light.

The scent of sulphur and petrol filled the room and as your eyes slowly adjusted to the differences in the light you could just make out the bulky form sitting on the floor against the door. You knew that form as the impression of it was etched on your own flesh.

You put your weapon aside and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor, grabbing a towel and wetting it as you passed the small bathroom alcove. You crouched before the shadowed figure and put your hand beneath his chin. You lifted his face to the light and it was clear that Hunt had given August a run for his money.

You gently cleaned the dried blood from his mouth and chin, carefully working it out of his moustache and scruff.

You wanted to say something reassuring, something positive, but you were too overwhelmed with relief.

‘Well,’ you murmured, stroking his face. ‘I hate to see the other guy.’

August was silent and you hoped you hadn’t over stepped the line.

He then held up a small package wrapped neatly in butcher’s paper and tied with white twine. You took it from him, pulled the string and the paper unfolded  to reveal your trophy. Holding it up to the light, it took a moment for you to recognise the carefully extracted evidence of Hunt’s death and you smiled.

‘Come on, you big brute,’ you said fondly, attempting to pull him up from the floor.

When August didn’t budge, you stopped straining against his weight and gasped with exertion.

‘You’re gonna have to help me here, babe!’

Groaning miserably, August managed to get his feet beneath him using the door and you to heave himself from the floor. You struggled to get him out of his clothes  and under the soft yellow light above the sink you examined him. Big swollen bruises bloomed across his chest and back accompanied by several shallow scrapes and slashes. You wasted no time washing him up, patching his wounds, and getting him into bed.

Lying on his belly, August was still asleep when you woke the next morning. You went to the minibar refrigerator, withdrew your trophy and admired it in the morning sunlight. Your mobile beeped.

It was a message from Ayami.

‘Tell your boyfriend to be a little less conspicuous next time, ok?’ she’d written.

Curious, and glancing at August’s sleeping form, you rang her.

‘What’s that mean?’ you asked when she answered.

‘I mean that August didn’t need to leave that fucker’s burning corpse in the warehouse. He damn near burned down the place.’

‘He was obviously sending them a message,’ you answered, smiling gleefully, proud of your little murder puppy.

‘I can understand that,’ she shot back sounding uncharacteristically irritable. ‘But that also earned us more attention than we wanted.’

You sobered.

‘Is this something that needs to be taken care of?’

‘It’s already handled,’ she answered and some of her good humour crept back into her voice.

You sighed and relaxed, wrapping an arm about your midsection.

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ you said after a moment with no conviction in your voice and she laughed incredulously.

‘When are you coming back?’ she asked, changing the subject.

‘I dunno. Depends on what August wants.’

‘Ok, you two lovebirds hash it out and I’ll see you… whenever.’

‘Thanks, Ayami. I love you!’

‘Get something from the Wall museum for me, ok?’

You disconnected the call and tossed aside the mobile.

Feeling a warm sense of well-being, you re-wrapped your trophy and stored it in the refrigerator again. Climbing into bed next to August, you lifted his arm, crawled beneath it, and curled your body against him.

August had exacted his revenge and you felt satisfied for him. But you weren’t sure what was going to happen now. The mission that had consumed so much of your year was over. You felt un-moored and a little panicked, but when August tightened his arm round you, your hamster wheel of thoughts scattered.

There was time to worry later, now in the heat of August’s embrace was peace and with a small smile still on your lips, you put your head against him and slept.

-end

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 10- These Are Strange Times

Summary: Could something positive be truly on the horizon? With the random intrusion of though-to-be-dead Scott Lang at the Avengers Facility, your hope for seeing Bucky again may have yet to be a possibility.

Warning: yeah nothing enjoy the ride

Masterlist

-Five years since the Blip-

Throwing on a dark sleeveless top, you suddenly feel the overwhelming urge to sneeze which evidently causes your little furry companion to startle at the unexpected noise. The furry tigress lets out a meow of protest that pulls forth a humored snicker from you, while the little beast sends you an annoyed look.

Recovering her bearings in a flash, she walks across the short wooden dresser like a model strutting on the runway, her thick mane of mahogany and dark chocolate fur glossy and adequately brushed to perfection, just how your spoiled Main Coon, Silver, likes it.

She purrs happily as she begins playing with Bucky’s dog tags that lay across the small dresser top.

“What are you do..? Oh give me that you little shit.” Silver ignores you until she’s rudely lifted and placed firmly on the carpeted floor before you snatch up the valuable memorabilia. Placing it around your neck where it belongs then glancing down to give her a casual shrug, “Don’t give me that look Silv, I bought you a cool bird feathered cat toy like three days ago. What happened to that?” Silver meows, running her head against your worn out old boots as you smile, “Guess it’s as good as dead huh, you little beast. Now you staying or coming with me to find Nat?” Nothing but purrs of affection.

You lean down to gently rub her head before standing up fully and heading for the door, Silver hot on your heels. Soon you’re both traveling down the hallway until you finally reach the large study. Natasha’s on a conference call with Carol, Rodney, Okoye, and the last two guardians of the galaxy, Rocket and Nebula. And by the looks of it, nothing new has been reported. How disappointing.

Soon they all log off, leaving Natasha alone with Rodney who stays to give Nat a little insight into Barton’s violent whereabouts from the last couple years since he’s been rouge. Apparently he took out a whole cartel in Mexico, so he’s been busy. Definitely not keeping up with those group therapy sessions Steve makes you go to to help cope with the loss. Not that you’ve actually been that consistent with them if we’re being real here.

Quickly enough, Rodney logs out, leaving a tearfully conflicted Natasha as she slouches in her comfy swivel chair. Head in her hands as she holds back the waterfall that threatens to spill within her. You take a step forward, leaning casually against a steel rimmed display area for random nick-nacks. “I’d join you in the fun, but I’m limiting my crying sessions between 1 and 2 in the morning on Tuesdays. So, uh....I brought Silver.” You smile, pointing a finger down to your loyal companion, “Well I guess she brought herself but you know.”

Natasha breaks out into a reluctant grin, genuinely happy to have a bit of positive company within her gloom, “And you didn’t even want her to begin with.” Laughs the red head, “Now I never see one without the other.”

You nod with an almost shy smile, “Yeah, she’s alright.” 

You hear soft movement making its way through the hallway behind you just as Silver meows when Steve casually saunters into the room, coming to stand next to your side as the furry beast paws at his shoes, “What are you here for? Doing some laundry?” You tease at the tall blonde.

Steve smiles at your little jab since he’s not usually always present, doing Captain America stuff and whatnot, “Just here to see some friends.”

Natasha chuckles through glossy eyes, “Well clearly your friends are doing just fine.” Steve knowingly nods paired with a small smile, both you and Natasha look relatively well kept and functional as usual. It’s just, there’s a palpable pain and hidden darkness that always appears to simmer lowly on the surface. Just enough for a skilled eye like Steve’s to notice.

“Exactly.” You add, wandering over to sit cross legged on Natasha’s desk as Steve moves to lean against the display, “But if you’re here to tell us to look on the bright side...”

“I’m gonna hit you in the head with this peanut butter sandwich.” Finishes Natasha with a pursued lipped grin as the 90 year old nods. “Um, right. Force of habit.” Admits Steve, pushing himself off the surface to find a seat next to you and directly across from Natasha. 

The three of you keep to a mutual silence for a long moment until he finally speaks, “You know,” Starts Steve thoughtfully, “I keep telling everybody they should move on...and grow. Some do.” He pauses for a moment as you frown, Natasha looking elsewhere as Steve finally continues, “But not us.”

She shakes her head, “If we move on, who does this?”

“Maybe it doesn’t need to be done.” Suggests Steve, he means well of course, but maybe he’s right after all, its been five fucking years with absolutely nothing to make for it. Nothing of any significant progress or even a possible way to fix what's happened. 

Natasha blinks through bleary eyes of saddened green while you pet Silver’s furry mane, refusing to give in to that notion, “No.” You whisper softly, causing them to look at you, “We can’t, it wouldn’t be right...at least,” You let out a gentle sigh, “at least not for me....before all of this, before I met all of you. I had nothing.” You admit thoughtfully, “Not a soul in the world who gave a damn whether I lived or died. Then I found Bucky, then I found this. This.....family. And because of it, I’m better off now then I was ten years ago.”

They keep a respectful silence as your breaths become shaky, teary eyes now trained onto Silver’s little ears, “And I know they’re gone now, believe me I fucking know it, but I’m still trying to be better.” Natasha nods in deep understanding, a couple stray tears falling down her cheeks as Steve crosses his arms.

“I think we all need to get a life.” He muses, his tone light as he tries to pull you two back from the edge of grief. You give him a friendly nudge at his annoying brotherliness, “You first.” He chuckles as you throw him a playful glare while Natasha checks an incoming call.

“Oh, hi! Hello! Is anyone home?” Speaks a man frantically from one of the security cameras, an orange van behind him, “This is, uh, Scott Lang. We met a few years ago at the airport.....in Germany?” Now you’ve got his attention.

“What the fuck?” You mutter in bewilderment at the blue tinged image of Scott as Steve and Nat share a confused glance, the three of you quickly rising to your feet while Scott keeps talking about who he is, how he got here, and what he’s learned about the world so far.

“Is this an old message?” Wonders Steve as he studies the image of Scott who’s still waving his hands up at the security camera.

“It’s the front gate.” Replies Natasha with a hopeful smile.

——

All you came here to do was shoot the shit with Natasha and maybe make some actual dinner, but here you are, laying across the study’s plush couch as Scott rambles on and on about the quantum realm. Whatever that happens to actually be, you’ve never heard of anything like that before, but then again you didn’t know aliens existed at one point. So perhaps anything's possible.

Silver brushes her fluffy head across your fingers as they dangle over the couches edge while Scott keeps at his long-winded tellings of how he got there, what it was like, that he’s been technically gone for only five hours, and now he thinks there’s a way to enter this new plane of existence and travel to a fresh alternate reality. Like through a time machine type deal, or whatever he’s on about.

Apparently he means one before Thanos. But it honestly sounds like a load of horseshit and gibberish coming from a desperate man refusing to acknowledge that this is the new shit reality. There’s no fucking way that’s even goddamn possible, right? No way. 

Maybe?

Drifting back out of your doubtful thoughts, you swiftly move yourself into a seated position as Scott begins to self doubt. Head lowering as he mumbles about how crazy that it. You start chuckling as he throws you an almost embarrassed look. “Scott.” You speak to gather his attention, “Nat gets emails from a raccoon. Your idea is admittedly a bit nuts, but nothings that crazy anymore considering all the wild shit I’ve witnessed in the past six years. So I don’t know, maybe there’s a way.”

Scott flashes a hopeful smile as his brows furrow in thought, uncertainty seeping right back into him, “So, uh...who do we talk to about this?”

——

“Stark! Miss us?” You shout at Tony as he holds Morgan in his left arm, an Ironman helmet grasped firmly in the right. He gives the four of you a less then enthusiastic nod of acknowledgment before wordlessly turning around and taking a step up onto the wooden porch.

You give Steve a shrug, “He misses us I can tell.”

Soon Tony let’s Morgan go off to play with you as you opt in to be the babysitter slash distraction from the grownups who are currently discussing if time travel and gathering the stones for ourselves is even a possibility, or even a palpable option that can be done. You skillfully listen to everything they’re saying as the little Stark shows off her array of multiple plant-life assortments picked from the local greenery.

“So I got this cone from that tree over there and then I put a frog in a glass but dad said I had to let him go so I did.” Babbles on the five year old as you entertain her constant musings.

You raise a brow, knowing her shenanigans all too well, “Is he in the garden?”

She mischievously smirks, sneakily peaking over at Tony who’s seated up on the porch, before giving you a nod, “Yeah. I made him a little house from some flat rocks I found too. I named him Froggo.”

You chuckle, “Oh really, Froggo? I like it, has a nice ring to it.” She nods in delight before walking into her tiny tent to retrieve something new as you catch either Scott or Steve saying something about a time heist, what the hell are they going on about now?

“Y/N! Look at this!” Calls Morgan excitedly while bursting out of the tent to run on short legs over to you who’s seated comfortably in the grass, “I got a cool rock from the lake but I didn’t get to show you last time cause you left early.”

Raising your brows in surprise, though you don’t exactly feel as thrilled as she is, you make sure she knows you care, “Woah! A cool rock from the lake, why Morgan I gotta see this.”

“Look.” She hands you a dull grey rock with a tiny fossil shell indentation on it, “It’s from the dinosaurs.”

Examining the small round object, you nod, “Next thing you know I’ll come back to a whole dinosaur excavation site. Impressive Professor Grant, I’m thoroughly amazed.”

She giggles in excitement, “Y/N I know what that means now.” You give her an inquiring look as she smiles proudly, “That’s from Jurassic Park.”

“And your dad let you watch that, with the big Trex eating the goat and everything?” You tease before handing her the prized object, “Next thing I know you’re going to have a whole dinosaur skeleton in your house.”

“Yeah that would be cool. Thanks ninja turtle.” Cackles Morgan as she hugs her rock, smiling brightly as you throw her a puzzled look before joining in on the laughter. “Okay, now you’ve lost me kid, I can’t say I have any idea what you’re talking about.”

She shrugs innocently, “Dad told me to call you that.” Clearly not understanding what she just called you either. A ninja turtle? The fuck is a ninja turtle?

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” You muse before looking up to the four of them getting closer to a heated discussion, “Alright Morgs let’s go save your dad before he decides never to invite us back for dinner again.” You add, quickly rising to your feet as she laughs before racing past you, on a beeline for Tony.

You choose to stay out of the conversation and instead wait for Steve, Natasha, and Scott to start walking back towards the car. You lean against the metal as Steve round the corner before catching your eye as he goes down the three steps, “Are we banished from the castle? I was kinda hoping not cause I actually like Pepper’s cooking.”

Steve smiles, “No. He’s not gonna help us is all.”

“Damn that’s shitty.” You retort with a tinge of genuine disappointment, you don’t completely believe this shit is even possible. But dammit if you don’t want them to at least try for all it’s worth. “So what now? I’m guessing you bastards aren’t gonna let this go anytime soon. And cause Tony’s out for the count, we obviously need some different brain power.”

Steve nods while walking closer to the car, “We wanna do this right. So, yeah, we’re gonna need a really big brain.”

Scott turns from Steve to point a thumb in Tony’s general direction, face a mask of confused puzzlement, “Bigger then his?”

-

After a less then pleasant adventure to some cozy little diner in New Jersey where the four of you were subjected to Banner in his weird Hulkness body or whatever the hell he is now. Turns out he was most definitely on board for this time traveling experimentation. Of course he was, the weirdo takes fucking selfies with children nowadays. 

So here you five are now, in the giant glass and metal garage of the Avengers Facility getting things ready for whatever nonsense is about to take place next. The back of Scott’s orange van closed for the moment, keeping hidden some reactor core thing behind its doors. Scott in some safety quantum realm suit while Banner and Natasha stand behind a large intricate assembly of high tech equipment in preparation for the events to hopefully follow.

You keep an amused yet genuinely curious stance off to the side as Bruce gives you a thumbs up, nodding, you face Scott who’s walking over to the van. “Okay, here we go. Time travel test number one everybody! Scott get that bitch open!” You shout with a small bout of rare enthusiasm while he opens up the doors.

“Emergency generators are on standby.” Announces Steve as he walks into view from behind some large plastic containers covered in safety rope.

Banner nods, “Good, because if we blow the grid, I don’t wanna lose, uh..” He points a green thumb at Scott who’s getting his helmet ready, “Tiny here in the 1950’s.”

Scott’s head snaps up in an instant, “Excuse me?” He worries.

Natasha smiles while looking down at her touch pad, “He’s kidding.” She sing songs before shaking her head up at Banner, “You can’t say things like that.”

Banner turns around to face a fearful Scott as you snort at the small bout of humor that you did happen to find rather amusing. Then again, you’re not the labs guinea pig, so instead you casually shrug while giving Scott a half persuasive grin and a thumbs up of reassurance, “Bad joke.” You add as Bruce nervously laughs, “Yeah, it was a bad joke.”

Scott nods apprehensively before turning to walk over to the reactor, appearing to believe the two of you, “You were kidding, right?” Asks Natasha as you raise a brow at Bruce in question. Albeit a smidge doubtful he actually one-hundred percent knows what he’s doing.

“I have no idea.” Whisper yells Banner, confirming your suspicions, “We’re talking about time travel here. Either it’s all a joke, or none of it is.” Explains Bruce, suddenly smiling as he lifts his attention back over to Scott, “We’re good!” He shouts with a positive thumbs up of that prominently famous green.

“Oh we’re so fucked.” You mutter humorously while Natasha shares an uncertain look with you.

“Get your helmet on.” States Banner as Scott does just that, “Scott, I’m gonna send you back a week...let you walk around for an hour, then bring you back in 10 seconds. Make sense?”

Scott smiles brightly, waving him off with confidence, “Perfectly not confusing.” He muses with an almost annoyingly positive expression.

“Good luck Scott. You got this.” Encourages Steve while Scott grins proudly. “You’re right. I do, Captain America.” Then just like that’s he’s gone, sucked into the reactor like a crumb into a vacuum cleaner.

“On a count of three..” Begins Banner, “Three, two, one.” Bruce flips some switches as the machine whirs before a second later and there’s Scott. In the body of a teen. “Uh, guys? This doesn’t feel right.” Worries teen Scott as his brows furrow in confusion, clearly not aware of how he looks. This just got interesting.

“What’s going on?” Questions Steve as Bruce urgently flicks more switches. “Who is that?” Wonders Natasha as you snort at teen Scott, snickering at how absolutely ridiculous your life is becoming and the weird shit you’re adding to the list.

“Oh my god he looks so innocent, like before the world hurt him.” You muse as Natasha’s brows raise in bewilderment, giving you a side glance as she focuses back on the person in question. “Is that, Scott?”

“Yes, it’s Scott!” Protests the sassy little 14 year old before whoosh and he’s gone once again while Banner squats down out of view to mess with some more buttons. A hot second later Scott’s back, this time looking significantly different.

“Oh, my back!” Complains the short wrinkly 80 year old man, Steve sending the back of Bruce a troubled look, “What is this?”

“Hold on a second. Could I get a little space guys.”

Steve hastily jogs around Bruce as he makes his way over to you and Nat, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you bring him back?”

“I’m working on it.” Mumbles Banner with underlying urgency as he flicks more switches in hopes of getting a better result, whoosh, and Scott’s gone again before reappearing as a...

“It’s a baby.” Deadpans Steve in astonishment.

You burst with laughter, “It’s Scott! Let’s just keep him this way so we don’t have to hear him ramble about how amazing you are, Captain America.” You tease playfully as Steve throws you a what-the-fuck kinda expression. “Y/N! He’s a baby!”

“He‘ll grow.” Adds Bruce as you shrug in agreement. Crossing your arms as you study baby Scott, “Steve you can change the diapers.”

“Bring Scott back.” Urges Steve as he ignores you and Banners amusement of the situation.

“Alright fine.” Chides Bruce, “When I say kill the power, kill the power.”

Natasha rushes past you while mumbling, “Oh, my God.” As you await for Bruce’s fantastic technological skills.

“And....kill it!” Natasha turns the breaker switch downwards and a moment later Scott’s back, this time fully Scott. Whether that’s good or not is debatable.

He stands there, arms open and face twisted in confusion, “Somebody peed my pants. But I don’t know if it was baby me or old me.......Or just...me me.” Speculates Scott as you snort in amusement.

“It was probably just you.”

He sends you an unsure look that’s half offended yet he can’t exactly counter that claim considering he’s just jumped between three different age groups of himself. Bruce claps his hands together before spreading his arms out wide in excitement, “Time travel!” He shouts enthusiastically as Steve shakes his head before turning to walk elsewhere, “What?” Wonders Bruce, “I see this as an absolute win. 

——

In the following weeks after Banner’s half-successful attempt at legitimate time travel, Tony and Rocket have been toiling away tirelessly on Starks actual time machine since he’s agreed to help fix the mess that Thanos left behind. The Avengers base has honestly never been busier; with Tony, Banner, and Rocket working on the giant machine. Everyone else is going about their business helping when needed and hoping for good news.

So here you are now, in the middle of the night with all light sources retired for the evening, hanging out in the kitchen with a bowl of watermelon chunks in your hand, and greatly enjoying the recently rare peace and quiet. Though soon your silent midnight snacking is disrupted when the sounds of human feet padding on tile reaches your ears from down the hallway. Dammit.

The lights flicker on in an instant, blinding your vision for a brief moment before they adjust accordingly to find the blue eyes of Steve, he yelps in surprise, hand holding his chest as he relaxes once more when he realizes it’s just you. Then he does a double take, considering you’re seated crossed legged on the counter with a bowl of watermelon, “Uh, hey there Y/N.”

You nod, awkwardly taking a bite out of your snack, “Steve.”

He raises a curious brow, deciding to step farther into the large kitchen area, “Huh, never seen anyone eat watermelon like that before, but I respect it.” Says the blonde, nodding towards the chopsticks held in your right hand.

“Yeah. Less of a mess.” He nods before taking a Gatorade out of the fridge, “Mind if I sit?”

“Go for it.” He nods before promptly seating himself next to the marble table. “So, eating in the dark? Your inner night owl keeping you from sleeping again?”

You shrug, “I can kinda see in the dark so....yeah, a bit of a night owl.” You admit with a growing frown, not sure why you suddenly feel so down in the dumbs again, “....guess I haven’t really slept well for some time now....well, now since I think about it actually, I probably don’t get as much sleep as your average person.”

“I get that, yeah....I know what you mean.” Lightly chuckles Steve in understanding, taking a small moment of silence to let his mind think of something to sway the atmosphere away from an awkward tension. Parting his eyes away from his clasped hands, he looks up to meet your stoic gaze, “You think all this is possible? I mean they’ve made some real progress and I guess Tony really knows what he’s doing. Still after all this time I can’t help but find it amazing.”

Pursing your lips together in thought, you let a small sigh emit from your parted lips before answering, “I hope so, cause if not. Well, guess that would be as expected.” You admit with a frown, “Maybe that’s just how it’s supposed to go....a fitting punishment for my lengthy list of crimes. I guess that’s fair.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Counters Steve as he sends you a sympathetic look, “What happened to you isn’t your fault, neither is what they made you do, or everything Thanos did to the universe....”

“Yeah, guess you’re probably right....it’s just...just so difficult to move on you know? From all of it, everything swirling in my head, and even though it’s been five fucking years now. I still think of that shit, even worse, I still think of Bucky every single day, I miss him.....I just, I miss all of them.” You admit sadly, setting your snack down as Steve takes a moment to reflect on his own losses.

Suddenly his lips curl into a humored smile as he shakes his head, eyes looking down at the table before they connect with your curious ones, “God he was so different back in the 40’s....Y/N you wouldn’t believe the stuff we got up to, jeesh, the stuff he got up to.” Chuckles Steve as you raise an intrigued brow. 

“Alright Rogers care to elaborate?” You press with a growing smile at the thought of Bucky and learning more about him, “Bucky never told me a whole lot about that time. Considering he’ll probably never get the chance, I think I’d like to learn more about him and what shit you people did back then.”

“Aren’t you from the 1950′s?” Inquires Steve with a humored grin as you wave him off.

“Yeah, yeah, I was a baby back then I don’t remember what happened okay,” You explain, “I was born in 53 alright, and let’s not forget I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood.”

Steve nods, “Right. Fair point.....Okay so..” He laughs, “There was this one time and if you knew me back in the day, of course I was getting in an unsolicited scuffle with some boys who thought it was funny to argue with the paperboy.”

Raising a brow, you begin to smile as his eyes light up, “An unsolicited scuffle?” You muse, “Or is this when skinny Steve got his ass kicked by a couple of mangy dogs?”

“Dogs. Yeah that’s probably more fitting, well you know, of course I had to step in and do something.”

“As expected.” You quickly add as he continues.

“Which I did. And let me tell you they were not a fan. Those assholes ran me for two blocks till I got cornered in some market when who would you know it.....Bucky was there, taking some cute strawberry blonde out for a date while he got groceries for his mom.” Chuckles Steve, blue eyes shimmering with the humorous memories coming back to him about his old friend.

You heart subconsciously swells with the thought of Bucky, “Clever man. Sweet talk your girl while doing something useful.”

“Exactly. I would have gotten a bloody nose if he hadn’t thrown a tomato right at the biggest guys head. That thing coated his hair like red paint, then...” Steve balls his fist as he presses it against his mouth to try and keep himself from losing it with laughter, “...then, his friend turned around and smack! Another tomato right in his face.”

Snickering in amusement, you run a hand down the side of your face at the vivid image forming in your head, “oh Bucky..”

“It was pretty damn accurate too. The other guy booked it down the sidewalk before Buck could get him. Then when he started walking towards us, the other guys took off like a couple of scared birds....fortunately leaving me with no bruises that day.” Says Steve proudly, no doubt thinking fondly on that old memory, “Then of course he told me I gotta be more careful and all that stuff, I said I was fine and he want back to shopping with that girl......huh, don’t think I ever saw her again, well....at least with him.”

“Don’t blame her, he sounded like a real ladies man back in the day, she probably got too jealous.” You joke with a small brow wiggle before your smile lessens again, God you miss him so fucking much, “Thanks Steve.....he seemed, so different. It’s just when I knew him, when I first met him that is, Bucky was very different.”

Steve’s face looses it’s once vibrant glow, he keeps a steady gaze set on you now, knowing your time with him was such a chilling contrast to Bucky in the 40’s. You sigh, “I think I would have liked to see that version of Bucky just once, but I liked the Bucky I got after everything we went through.....after everything’s that’s happened. Maybe 40’s Bucky wouldn’t even look in my direction, I’d probably scare the socks off of him anyways.”

Steve shakes his head, “No way Y/N, you’d have him wrapped around your finger so fast, not a doubt in my mind he’d do anything for you in a heartbeat. That’s just who he was, a player yes, but a kind one who treated everyone with respect through that famous charm of his.....and you, you’d have caught his attention in an instant.”

Looking down at your hands, you raise the corner of your lips into a small half grin at the thought of Sergeant Barnes losing it all to the dangerous vixen that is no doubt yourself, now that’s an interesting thought indeed. Bucky in the 40′s, how about that.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re not....but I know one thing. That I’m glad to have even known him at all, he was...so special and he didn’t even know it.” You pause for a moment, lips pursing together as you think fondly of your past lover. Steve keeps silent, studying your disheartened features as you gather your words, “So if, if they can somehow do this....if it’s even actually possible to get those fucking stones again. I’ll do whatever it takes, Steve.”

Whatever it takes.

-

Tagged:  @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes​ @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94​  @iamasimpingh0e

[jalapeno-princess]

Be Mine Again

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst (With a happy ending)

Word Count: 10.6K

Summary: Mark practically lived on airplanes; being a KPOP idol meant he was constantly traveling. Waking up early to head over to the airport was something he was used to. However, these last few months for Mark have been an actual living hell. He was exhausted beyond belief, having only three hours of sleep and so he decided to grab some coffee. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary; the Seoul airport was busy as always, yet that doesn’t stop him from noticing that the customer that was currently being rung reminded him of you. It’s been a while since he’s last seen you, but Mark knew you like the back of his hand. When he comes to the realization that it is you, he comes to accept the fact that the two of you at the same place at the same time wasn’t just merely coincidence and he wasn’t going to take this chance for granted.

A/N: Hey guys, I have two papers due in less than two hours, but I wanted to post this by tonight (PRIORITIES) hahahahahaha if I don’t graduate in May, we all know why. I actually wrote this last year but I never had the motivation to finish it. However, the words just kept flowing out and here we are. I’m still trying to get my motivation back to continue other stories, but until then, please enjoy this one! This is based on the song “Wake me up” by Ed Sheeran.

I should ink my skin With your name And take my passport out again And just replace it

See I could do without a tan on my left hand Where my fourth finger meets my knuckle And I should run you a hot bath And fill it up with bubbles

'Cause maybe you're lovable Maybe you're my snowflake And your eyes turn from green to gray In the winter I'll hold you in a cold place And you should never cut your hair 'Cause I love the way you flick it off your shoulder

And you will never know Just how beautiful you are to me But maybe I'm just in love When you wake me up

Mark was never a morning person but it was quite understandable. He’d always have to wake up at the crack of dawn and head to dance practice or to the studio for a recording session. Luckily today was his first legitimate day off in months and he wanted nothing more than to sleep in till noon and spend the rest of his day doing nothing with you. 

To his dismay, he found himself waking up a bit too early for his liking because he noticed the bed seemed more spacious and you weren’t there when he reached out to pull you closer to his body. Your boyfriend knew you weren’t a morning person either and with the way your job was overworking you to the bone these days, Mark knew you were just as tired as he was and needed a well deserved break; so where exactly could you have gone? 

His questions were soon answered when the scent of bacon and blueberry pancakes filled your bedroom and he couldn’t help but grin at the idea of you making breakfast. It’s been a while since the two of you really got to spend time together. He’s been on tour with Got7 for the last six months and you were only able to visit him three times during the entire tour because your schedule was just as hectic as his was. 

He couldn’t wait to spend time with his favorite girl and hopefully you had the same ideas of how the day was going to play out. Once he put on some boxers and a t-shirt to look more decent, he made his way in to the living room and toward the kitchen but stopped once his eyes landed on your curvaceous figure. 

You were currently wearing his t-shirt from the night before and a cute little thong that left little to the imagination and his mind began to wander to your little love making session a few hours prior. He had to bite his lip to prevent himself from groaning at how sexy you looked and making his presence known but he didn’t care. 

Mark loved making it aware just how much of an effect you had on him. Your boyfriend wasn’t all that secretive in trying to hide that he had just joined you and you could hear his footsteps as he made his way toward you, so you weren’t as surprised when you felt his arms wrap lazily around your waist as he placed his chin on your shoulder. 

“Good morning baby. Smells good, and I’m not talking about the food.” You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment and although you couldn’t see him, you knew by the intonation in his voice that he was smiling. 

“How are you feeling this morning? I didn’t go too rough on you did I?” You decided to turn around and stole a chaste kiss from the corner of his mouth before playfully pinching his cheek. 

“You give yourself too much credit Tuan. I’m walking around just fine aren’t I?” 

The adorable pout he gave you after your cheeky response sent warmth to your cheeks but you know it was all just an act. Mark knew you were just messing with him because as the two of you were having sex, you wouldn’t stop screaming his name in pleasure and begging him to go faster. Normally your love making sessions were always so passionate and tender; full of love confessions and sensual touches. However, last night was a little more on the dominant and rough side not that you were complaining. 

Got7’s world tour ended just three days ago and as soon as Mark landed back in Korea yesterday afternoon, he made a beeline straight to your shared apartment and both showed you and told you just how much he’s missed you since he’s been away the entire day. You had a couple of bruises on your hips, thighs and around your neck but you didn’t care. As much as you loved how soft and extremely caring Mark could be whenever it came to you, you loved his kinky and animalistic side just a little bit more. 

“Hmm, I guess I’m just going to have to change your mind by fucking your brains out the entire day then huh? Oh, by the way, you look so fucking sexy in my shirt y/n. God, I don’t know how I can go so long without seeing you and kissing you, it’s fucking torture. I missed you so much baby.” 

You smiled widely in to the kiss when he practically smashed his lips against yours and you automatically wrapped your arms around his neck; wanting to be as close to him as possible. He only deepened the kiss and turned off the stove before hoisting you on top of the kitchen counter and finding his way in between your legs. Being in a long distance relationship was extremely tough and it was even harder knowing that your boyfriend was one of the biggest international celebrities in the entire world. 

Sometimes, you’d forget you were dating a Kpop idol because Mark seemed like such a normal guy. To the world, he was Got7’s main rapper Mark Tuan but to you, he was your cheesy and extremely corny boyfriend who cried at Disney movies, didn’t know how to multiply numbers once they went in to the double digits and always left the toilet seat up no matter how many times you’d remind him to put it down. 

You never viewed him to be anyone other than the man you were in a relationship with and he never did or said anything to make you feel uncomfortable in your relationship. He did his best to keep in touch with you as much as he could and he used every minute of his free time to check up on you and make sure you were doing okay. Your happiness was Mark’s number one priority and he did anything in his power to make sure you were happy and got whatever you wanted. 

“I missed you too. I actually took the rest of the week off because a little birdie told me you guys don’t have any schedule until Tuesday so I want to spend as much time with you as possible. I’m all yours Mark. Do whatever you want with me.” 

You regretted those words the minute they fell from your lips because of the mischievous grin that quickly rose on his face. Mark was a very playful and cheeky guy. From previous experience, you learned that your boyfriend had many tricks up his sleeve. Making love to you was his favorite past time and he would take advantage of any time he physically had with you. 

“Anything?” You nodded in agreement; you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see what Mark had planned for the two of you but knowing him, it had to deal with him being the dominant one and maybe even getting to accomplish one of his kinks. 

“Yes, but to an extent. No anal—don’t look at me like that I told you it’s a big no babe. Oh and no bondage. You know how I get when I’m tied up. But I do want to try that one position I sent to you.” His grip on your waist tightened and he sneakily hid his face in the crook of your neck only to leave a couple of sloppy love bites there. 

“Mmm, I’ll do anything you ask of me baby. Why don’t we skip breakfast and I can eat you out instead—ow! I hope you’re this rough with me in bed later on.” 

The airport was extremely busy today and Mark cursed his manager for scheduling a couple of photo shoots for him during one of the busiest seasons of the year; winter. Everyone was either going on a trip or returning home for one and with him being the former, he was frustrated with how long the lines at security were and how many paparazzi showed up at his gate just to take photos of him. 

It wasn’t that Mark didn’t love being an idol. He loved performing and entertaining all of his fans alongside of his six best friends. He loved writing songs, loved traveling the world and experiencing so many different cultures, food and adventures while they were on tour. However, he was willing to give it all up if it meant getting you back in his life. You were everything Mark could ever want and need in his life. 

The two of you were together for almost four years and if soulmates existed, you were Mark’s as he was yours. You meant the world to him and he loved you more than he could ever put in to words. Which is why he was completely devastated when you told him you were breaking up with him. The break up wasn’t completely unexpected; that is why Mark wasn’t too shocked when you told him you could no longer handle the long distance and that you felt like you weren’t too important to him. 

Mark knew that wasn’t the truth and he could only hope that you didn’t ultimately think so either, but after five months of being away from you, it gave Mark time to think where he went wrong and what caused you to finally give up on your relationship with him. Being an idol wasn’t all that easy, but dating one must’ve been ten times more difficult. 

Not only was he gone most of the time, but the time difference really did interfere with your communication schedule. If he was waking up, you were getting ready for bed and if he was right about to go to sleep, you were clocking in to work. You only really ever got to talk to him on the weekends if you were lucky and even if Mark did his best to contact you and to check up on you, it wasn’t the same as spending time with him and talking with him face to face rather than through a phone screen. 

Then came your insecurities. Mark knew how insecure you could get when it came to dating him. If he was in your shoes, he’d be pretty insecure too, so it was understandable. But he never failed to reassure you that you were the only girl he genuinely ever loved and planned on loving for the rest of his life. He told you on a daily basis that he planned on marrying you and settling down with you one day once his idol life were to simmer down. 

You tried your best to be patient and understanding when it came to dating him because not only was he in a relationship with you, but he was in a relationship with his career and as much as Mark tried to prioritize you and your relationship, deep down you knew you’d always come second to his job. When you confessed your feelings and thoughts to him, to say he was upset that you were breaking up with him was an understatement. 

Did you fall out of love with him? Was there someone else? Did you finally come to the realization that you deserved better? There were so many thoughts that ran through his head and all he could do was sink to his knees and cry while pathetically wrapping his arms around your legs and begging you to stay. In your four years of dating, Mark grew to know what an independent and determined person you were and how you had such a great head on your shoulders.

He knew that when you set your heart to something, you always accomplished it; a breakup was no different and no matter how many times he’d beg and pleaded for you to stay, your mind was already made up and there was nothing he could do to stop you. Mark knew it was selfish to want you to stay. Your relationship wasn’t the healthiest; the two of you had your fair share of arguments and disagreements. But your love was always enough to defeat any negative thought or idea you had. 

This time was different though and you were extremely tired of not being as important to Mark as he was to you. You put him on a pedestal; you gave him the world on a silver platter and he could barely give you a couple minutes of his time because he was always so busy. For months, you’ve been debating on breaking up with him, especially because you were so in love with him and just like Mark, you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him and only him. 

However, the longer you continued your relationship, the more unhappy you became and sometimes it felt as if you weren’t even in a relationship. Breaking up with Mark was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do in your entire life and as soon as he sank on to the floor, sobbing and heaving; begging you to change your mind, you knew you made a mistake. Mark has never been the same since you’ve left. 

Although it’s been over five months since the night you broke his heart and took whatever was left of it with you, things only got worse for him as the days went on. He missed you more and more every day and even if the guys did their best in cheering him up and attempting to help him move on by setting him up with other girls, there was just no getting over you. 

As soon as Mark and his manager got settle down at their gate, they took their seats and Mark decided to stay away from his phone for a while. Sometimes, all the comments, posts, direct messages and tweets on social media could be so toxic and he couldn’t help but overthink at all the negativity. It was in those moments where he would run to you. 

Other than Got7 and his family, you were the only person he trusted and he trusted you with his entire life. That says a lot. Mark was an extremely private person. He had a hard time trusting and opening up to people. The only reason why he portrayed himself as such a shy and introverted person was because he didn’t want people taking advantage of him and his kindness. 

After meeting you, getting to know you and dating you for so long, Mark learned that his happiness, health and success was your main priority. You always stayed up until the wee hours of the morning to talk to him and to listen to him vent about his worries and all of his problems and not once did you complain about how tired you probably were or how repetitive he was sounding but that’s because you loved him so much and wanted to be there for him no matter what time it was, who you were with or what you were doing. 

You’d drop anything and everyone for Mark and he was forever grateful. You were so selfless and never expected anything in return for your patience and generosity. Mark always felt so safe with you. You were his home and God, he was homesick. He took a look at his passport in disgust. This was one of the main reasons why you could no longer handle being in a relationship with him. 

Almost every single page was filled out with many difference countries and cities all around the world. China, Japan, Australia, New York, Russia, Italy, Brazil, Philippines. He only had a couple of pages left to fill up and he knew he’d need a new passport by the end of the month. What bothered him even more was knowing that he had just gotten this passport less than five months ago. 

Right after he returned back home to your upsetting decision, his management gave him a new passport and informed him that he had a schedule in Thailand just three days later. It wasn’t that he hated traveling; no. Mark loved seeing all these different places, trying their food, meeting their people and learning about their cultures. 

It was being away from you that he hated the most. No matter how many times you told him you were excited for him to explore and live his best life, he knew you wanted to be there alongside of him experiencing it all too because that’s all he wanted. Every high that went on in his life, he wanted you right there by his side basking in his excitement with him. 

Learning how to live without you was a painful experience and he became so unhappy to the point where he took a few days off from the tour in order to see a therapist for his depression. Mark knew how much you meant to him the minute he told Jaebeom he wanted to leave Got7 in order to be with you. 

The leader thought it was an extremely abrupt and stupid decision on Mark’s part but he understood where his older friend was coming from. He witnessed the way you and Mark looked at one another. If he had to describe what love was, it was in your gazes alone that could explain what the four letter word meant. 

Everyone and their mothers knew just how much you and Mark loved and cared for one another. When Mark told the six of them that you broke up with him, they were in disbelief. Sure, the six of them had girlfriends and even a couple of flings and one night stands every now and then but you were the only constant girlfriend amongst their group and they all felt that you both would get married to each other once their careers were to settle down. 

Jinyoung and Jackson were the closest with Mark; so they saw just how much the breakup had wrecked him and no matter how much they tried to tell him that you were going to come back and that you just needed some time without him, he didn’t believe anything anyone had to say. If you still loved him, you’d still be with him no matter how hard your relationship was. The passport began to taunt him the longer he stared at it. 

“This is all your fucking fault.” He began to flick at the pages earning himself a look of confusion from his manager. 

“Hey, everything okay?” Mark shook his head in disagreement. 

“I’m just tired. I’ll go get some coffee or something. Be right back.” 

He didn’t care what his manager’s response was and he couldn’t care less if he were to get followed. Mark wasn’t even much of a coffee person. You were taking up the entirety of his thinking process and he just needed some time to think. Something to distract him. When he walked up to the coffee shop, there were two people in front of him but he paid none of them any mind and went on his phone. 

The guys were wishing him safe travels and hoped that the photo shoot and filming for a reality tv show he was going to be on went well. A small smile rose on his face at the idea of how much they all loved and cared about him. He really didn’t know what he were to do or how he would cope without them. 

“I’ll have a venti iced matcha latte. Thank you.” 

It was in that moment that time froze. He knew that voice anywhere. It was etched in to the back of his head and imprinted on his heart. Your laugh along with your sweet, soft voice was one of Mark’s favorite sounds and he would listen to you talk all day if he could. He looked at the person currently at the cash register and shook his head in disbelief. Mark had to be hallucinating. It must’ve been the lack of sleep. There was no way that could’ve been you. 

The girl had extremely short hair, up to her shoulders compared to the long, silky waves you’ve had for the last few years that Mark loved so much. She was also wearing something completely different than what you had in your wardrobe. The older boy knew you like the back of his hand. He knew each and every curve on your body; on top of every birth and beauty mark scattered throughout your skin. Surely he would’ve known if it was you. It was possible for someone to have the same exact voice as you—wasn’t it? 

Sure, the girl ordered your favorite drink, but everyone seemed to be in to matcha these days. It didn’t mean anything. Bringing his attention back to his phone, he tried his best to take his mind off of comparing you and the girl in front of him. However, once the cashier asked for the girl’s name, his entire world came crashing down on him. 

“Y/n.” 

It was you. But so much has changed about you in the last few months. Once you got out of line and made your way off to the side, it was in that moment Mark confirmed that yes, it was you. So many questions began running through his mind. What were you doing there at the airport? Why did you cut your hair and change your style? Was it an effect of the breakup? Did you know he was there? You had to—or least have heard that some kind of celebrity was there with the way that the paparazzi and fans were filling up the gateway. 

A part of him wanted to turn around and pretend as if he didn’t see you, but another part of him, one he understood was his heart was begging for him to go and talk to you. It would be alright wouldn’t it? It’s been months and the two of you started off as friends in the first place. It was only normal for him to say hi. Matter of a fact, it would’ve been rude if he didn’t. Once he made his way up to the cashier, he was quick to see the way a grin quickly rose on her face. 

“Hi, what can I get for you to—today.” He gave her a polite smile before looking up at the menu board. 

“Just a grande iced caramel macchiato with two shots of espresso please—oh and one cream cheese scone. Thank you.” He reached out to take out his wallet but she shook her head. 

“It’s on the house Mark. I’m a huge fan. Have a nice rest of your day.” 

He thanked her politely and wished her a nice day before making his way toward where you were standing. You were currently on your phone and he began to have an internal argument with himself on whether or not he should go up and talk to you. What could go wrong? 

Well, you could pretend as if you didn’t know who he was and just leave him looking like an idiot, or you could start a conversation with him like you normally did. Right as he was about to open his mouth and say something to you, his order was being called. He looked over to where you were standing to see if hearing his name had any effect on you, but you continued to stand there and scrolled through your phone. 

Just go you idiot. She’s obviously moved on, let her be. 

Listening to his conscience would’ve been the smart thing to do, but Mark was never all that bright and he bought that scone specifically for you. Taking in a deep breath, he walked over to you and before he could say anything, you looked up to see the new presence that joined you in the corner and practically jumped as if you saw a ghost. Although you looked completely different, you still looked breathtakingly beautiful. 

You lost some weight which was expected from how hard you’ve been working, you weren’t wearing any makeup other than what Mark knew was tinted moisturizer and when he noticed you were wearing the necklace he bought for you on your third anniversary, his heart rate increased. 

“Hey.” 

You continued to look up at him in shock and he couldn’t help the giggle that fell from his lips at how adorable you looked. Your eyes were widened in shock and it was as though you saw a ghost. Technically, he was considerably a ghost of your past—so seeing your blank expression did tug on his heartstrings. He might have thought that approaching you was a good idea once he first laid his eyes on you and confirmed that it was indeed you, but now he was regretting it. When he realized you weren’t going to say anything, he handed you the scone. 

“I uh—I got this for you. I know how much you love your cream cheese scones.” 

After taking in a couple of deep breaths, you finally allowed yourself to process what was going on and that’s when you felt a tear fall down your cheek. 

“Thank you. Um—hi—sorry, I—hi. How have you been?” 

Although it was you who initiated the break up, you found yourself following and keeping up with everything Got7 was doing. Specifically the man standing in front of you. Seeing him again after your last night together made you feel a whole bunch of emotions. You were excited but your heart felt as if it was about to burst out of your chest. You had no right to crave his presence, you broke his heart and decided you no longer wanted to be the lucky girl who got to love him and be loved by him. 

It wasn’t that you wanted to break up with him. Breaking up with Mark was the biggest mistake you’ve ever made. He was your person. Your soulmate. Your safe haven. The man standing in front of you was all you wanted for the rest of your life. But it was all getting too much for you at one point. The long distance was getting too much for you to handle. 

Then came the rumors; no matter how quick he was to shut down any rumor, it was only natural for you to grow insecure and feel as if there was something going on with him and the idols he was included in rumors with. Your mental health was worsening the longer he was away and it was affecting your job and your education. You knew that breaking up with him was a permanent decision and that there was no going back once it happened. However, all you knew and have ever known was Mark. 

You always lived for him; always put him first. You needed to live without him. You needed to grow and learn to love yourself before you could continue loving him. The feeling of his finger wiping away the tear that fell made butterflies erupt in your tummy. His touch felt all too familiar yet so foreign and you wanted nothing more than for him to continue. 

“I’m uh—I’m alright. What are you doing here? You look extremely beautiful by the way. Although, I always preferred your long hair, short hair looks really good on you.” 

You didn’t have to see yourself to know your cheeks were probably red from his sweet words. Mark always knew exactly what to say to make you blush. Plus, it’s been a while since someone complimented you and the last time someone did, it just so happened to be the beautiful boy standing in front of you. Mark complimented you on a daily basis as if his life depended on it. He was very vocal about wanting you to know just how beautiful you are and how he thinks the entire world of you. 

“Thank you. I wanted to try something new I guess. It was getting too hard to manage and Korea is extremely hot during the summer. You look great! Your hair is really long now, but I like it. I’m actually going to Vietnam for a conference. What about you?” 

He gave you a knowing look as he shrugged indifferently. He didn’t want to bring it up, he was afraid of what would happen once he brought up work. The last thing he wanted was to ruin things before they could even begin to bloom. 

“I have a couple of photo shoots in China and then I’m meeting BamBam in Thailand for a reality show. What time is your flight?” 

There was nothing more that Mark wanted than to pull you in to his embrace but he was afraid of your reaction. It’s been so long since he last held you in his arms and he still had yet to really understand why you left, but he wanted you to come back home. He wanted you to come back to him. 

No matter how many wonderful things happened to him on a daily basis, nothing else mattered to him the way you and your presence did. He couldn’t fathom in to words just how much you were a literal ray of sunshine on his many cloudy days. He was nothing without you; and he didn’t realize just how much of a positive impact you had on him until you were no longer his. You were his reason; the meaning behind his entire existence. 

A life without you was one he no longer wanted to continue living. You were at the same airport at the exact same time—it had to mean something. Mark knew you like the back of his hand; being with someone for such a long time would do that to you. He could tell what you were thinking or how you were feeling just by looking at you and your mannerisms, yet looking at you right now, he had no idea what was on your mind and it worried him. 

Were you also thinking that the two of you meeting in the same area after months of being apart was a sign that the two of you were meant to do so? You were a firm believer in fate, soulmates and anything that had to deal with supernatural powers. Did that mean you too felt the same way Mark was currently feeling? You had to. You lived in Los Angeles and you only ever visited Korea when you were still dating Mark. 

There wasn’t a reason he could think of for you to come back. His flight could have been the day before and yours could have been set for the next week but no. You were both there; both deciding to stop by for coffee before your flights. This was no coincidence and even if it was, Mark was currently thanking whatever higher power brought the two of you to the airport that day. 

He was determined to bring you back in to his life, even if it was just to be a friend. Since the break up, you practically dropped off the face of the earth. You deleted every single social media account, changed your number and you even had your mom come up with excuses as to why you no longer wanted anything to do with him. There was no way he could keep up with you, so he had no idea if you already had someone else in your life. 

He wasn’t going to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable, but he was going to do whatever he possibly could to return things back to what they were. He missed his old self; the Mark he was back when he had a purpose. Back when he had something—someone worth fighting for. Someone worth surviving for. 

You. It’s always been you from the time you walked in to his life all those years ago and it’s always going to be you. 

There was really no getting over you. You were the owner of his heart and he was afraid that he would be alone for the rest of his life because he was confident you were it for him. He’s been thinking about you every single day since you told him you no longer wanted to be with him anymore. How were you doing? How long have you been wanting a breakup for? When did you realize Mark wasn’t the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with? If you were suffering and missing him the way he was with you? 

The two of you could have worked things out; he knew there was a lot more meaning behind your words. Deep down, Mark knew a huge part of your decision to break up with him was because of his career. The idol life was extremely rough; the guys received so much hate on a daily basis, their company treated them like shit and they didn’t get the recognition they obviously deserved. 

They promised Mark many different photo shoots, deals with top fashion houses like Hermès, Chanel and Tiffany co. They also told him that he could return back to California to spend time with his family. Unfortunately, every single thing the company promised to him turned out to be a lie. Some of the other members got to experiment with acting, dancing and putting out solo albums. 

However, every time Mark would bring up wanting to try out any of these activities, his company was quick to shut him down every single time. He had a gut feeling that a lot of the employees under the division that made the decisions all had it out for him and he never understood why. The older boy was one of the kindest, generous, soft spoken and gentle people not only in the company but just in general. 

In fact, it was Mark’s polite personality that caught the attention of the people who scouted him over a decade ago. Honestly, the mistreatment was getting too much for him to handle. He knew he and the rest of Got7 deserved so much better. They all had so much potential to be one of the greatest groups in KPOP, but their company continued to hold them back for no reason at all. All the mistreatment they were receiving on top of losing you—it got too much for Mark to handle and at one point, he even thought about leaving Got7. He didn’t have the courage to talk to any of the members about his feelings or anyone for that matter. 

Although he didn’t know the entire reasoning behind your sudden disappearance, it didn’t take a genius to know that you were fed up dating a KPOP idol. Hell, even if Mark knew you were the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, he wasn’t wholeheartedly sure that you felt that way too. For all he knew, every time you talked about your future with him, you could have said it in the moment. 

Nobody knows what the future holds but God—Mark wanted nothing more than for you to end up in his. If he could, he would go back in to the past and change everything negative that went on in your relationship. The two of you hardly ever got in to arguments; there wasn’t anything for the two of you to fight about. Sure, there were a couple disagreements every now and then, but it was only ever about food or chores. If and when the two of you did argue, It was about the distance. 

Got7 had gone on tour every single year since the beginning of your relationship. Their tours normally lasted for six months and unfortunately, being a full time college student with a full time job prevented you from getting to travel along with him. This meant that you only ever saw him when he was in Korea and even then, he would be at practice or in the studio. 

It had to be hard on you; you were still so young and quite the romantic. It was only natural for you to want to be around your boyfriend as much as you could. Mark hated any time spent away from you. As much as he loved hanging out with Got7, if he had the choice, he’d spend all of his time with you. If only he tried harder for you—if only he fought harder to get you to stay, he’d still be coming home to you and finding solace in your arms after a long day. He wouldn’t be so torn—so broken and so depressed. You brought out the best in him; you might have been standing right in front of him, but you were so far away. 

“I’m actually supposed to be heading to my gate here pretty soon. My flight is in an hour but we’ll be boarding in less than half an hour—“

“Order for y/n!” 

You gave him a small smile and walked over to the counter, quickly taking your beverage and making your way back over to him. Mark could feel his heart rate rapidly beating against his chest. Did he really spend almost five years of his life with you? It felt like a fever dream? He felt like a school boy watching you—his gaze not leaving your frame once. 

“Oh—cool.”

“What about you?”

“My flight isn’t for another two hours. My manager just wanted to get here early so that we wouldn’t have to worry about checking in.” 

The truth was, Mark and his manager weren’t actually supposed to be there so early. In most of his trips, they would show up to the airport with only minutes to make it to their gate. Since they would always fly first class, there wasn’t too much of a wait. That’s why he knew seeing you there was more than just a mere coincidence. 

You hummed in understanding and averted your gaze to the ground. Seeing your sudden change in emotion on top of your now awkward demeanor made his stomach sore. Being an idol was a once in a lifetime experience which he was extremely grateful for. He loved performing, he loved meeting fans and traveling the world with his six other best friends. But he would give everything up just to be the man you called your husband. 

That’s all he ever wanted. Being an idol would never allow him that freedom whatsoever and that was one of the cons he hated the most about his career. If people were to know that he was in a relationship with you, then maybe the two of you wouldn’t have had so many arguments about the dating rumors that surrounded him. 

KPOP fans could be so delusional sometimes. Whenever two idols would interact with each other or simply glance at one another, people would call them out and say that they were dating. Mark being the friendly person he was would always do things for the female idols he would work alongside. He knew that no matter how many times he would reassure you that there was nothing going on with him and a female idol, it was only human of you to grow insecure and feel as though something was up. He was very jealous and insecure whenever it came to you. 

One time, you went out with a few of your friends to a bar and got plastered to the point where one of your guy friends had to take you home. Since nobody other than the members of Got7 and both his and your family members knew about your relationship, this meant that Mark had yet to meet your group of friends but he was familiar with a few of them because you would talk to him about them. 

This friend however, wasn’t one that he was aware of, nor did he want to be. When he heard a buzz on his door and opened it to see your friend carrying you bridal style with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as your face was smashed against his chest, he could feel is blood boiling and it wasn’t a good feeling. 

You weren’t purposely trying to make him jealous and because you didn’t think too highly of yourself in the first place, you didn’t think Mark had any reason to be jealous. He wanted to rip you from out of your friend’s arms and hide you away—it wasn’t that he was jealous of your friend’s looks although Mark could see that he was pretty good looking. Mark wasn’t cocky, he was very humble but he was well aware he was extremely handsome. Yet, he knew that your friend could give you what Mark couldn’t. 

Your friend could provide for you in ways that Mark couldn’t. Your friend could spend all of his time with you—call you and text you on an hourly basis. There were so many men that could do things for you that Mark wasn’t physically able to and it bothered him. Come to think of it, although he had no right to worry about what you did anymore, he was curious if you were in a relationship—and if you were dating that friend. 

He never said anything about it once you sobered you the next day in fear of a fight breaking out, but he’s been very cautious about who you hung out with while he was away. Mark was confident in the love that you held for him. You would confess your love for him physically and verbally every single day, so cheating wasn’t even a thought on his mind. However, he was afraid of you coming to the realization that you didn’t want to continue staying in a relationship with someone you hardly ever saw. 

“Nice! Oh, congratulations by the way! You finally released a solo song. I’m so proud of you! It’s amazing by the way. I had to look up the English translation since I don’t speak a word of Chinese, but it was beautiful.” 

I wrote it about you. 

From the day you walked out on him up until now, every single song he wrote was about you. Missing you—wishing you were still his, wanting to give up the game and fortune to be with you. The misery he was suffering; every word he wrote came straight from his heart. You actually kept up with him? You actually listened to his music? It didn’t come as a shocker; you were the definition of supportive. 

If you were able to, you’d attend their concerts, you’d constantly listen to their music and you’d wear and even purchase some merchandise. Everything you did never failed to put a smile on his face. Why did he take you for granted? Whoever said the famous line you never know what you have until it’s gone was right and he hated that they were. 

“Thanks. I’m glad that you enjoyed it.” 

That had to be the understatement of the year. He was over the moon that you listened to it. Right as he released the song, you were the first person he wanted to hear it. You were who the song was written about, so of course he wanted you to listen to it. It made him wonder though, how did you stumble across of it? Were you just scrolling on social media and it popped up, or did you search his name—curious as to how he was doing? 

What did you think about the lyrics? Did you think he wrote it about you? You had to know; you were the only girl in his life, a lot of the songs he’s written for Got7 were about you and you were aware of it. This time was no different. He had no intentions of telling you, well, at least not right now. But he was hoping you already knew without him having to confess it to you. Silence surrounded the both of you and he mentally cursed himself for not knowing what to say. Mark felt like an idiot. There were so many questions he had and so many things he wanted to tell you, but it wasn’t the time and he didn’t want to scare you away. 

“I should get going. I can’t afford to miss my flight. It was nice seeing you again Mark. I hope you have a wonderful day and a safe trip. Take care.” 

You gently waved at him and thanked him once more for the scone. His heart began to beg him to at least go in for a hug or to ask you to maybe start all over. It’s been so long since he last held you in his arms and it just felt so tempting. Only then did he realize where he was and there was no way he could get caught hugging someone—even more so his ex-girlfriend. Korean reporters would have a field day. 

“You too. Have fun in Vietnam!” 

With one last smile, you were gone and it all felt like deja vu to him. Seeing you walk away with your luggage brought back painful memories of him crying on the kitchen floor, wrapping himself around your leg—begging you to rethink your decision. He felt like such a child then, not allowing you to leave because he could tell that once you were to finally leave the apartment, that was it. This time though, it hurt him so much more. 

You were back in his life even if it were only for a couple of minutes. He had hope—he prayed that seeing him again would make you realize that you missed him and that maybe at the time, the break up was something you thought would be a good idea but now you were regretting it. He dragged himself slowly back to his gate and slumped in to the chair next to his manager. If the older man thought something was wrong, he didn’t say anything and Mark was glad. 

This manager was one of his favorites. He was very nice to Mark and took good care of him. However, he knew it was protocol for him to report any funny business back to the higher ups in the company. The image of you began to haunt him; he couldn’t think straight knowing you were less than a mile away from him. He started to weigh out his options; there was no way he’d allow this chance to go to waste. 

It’s only been a few months; but heartbreak really does change a person. He didn’t want to suffer anymore. That’s why he found himself standing up and apologizing to his manager, stating that he’d be right back. Knowing that you were just minutes away from boarding, he practically sprinted throughout the gates—doing his best to find the flight to Vietnam. It wasn’t as if there were many gates. All Asian countries were in the same area and both China and Japan were next to his gate, so he had a hunch your gate wasn’t too far away. 

“Flight 0904 to Vietnam will start boarding passengers in ten minutes. Please begin making your way to the gate.” 

He swore under his breath as he was running around looking like a madman. Only you had this effect on him. At this point, he didn’t even care if someone recognized him and either took photos of him or recorded him. He needed to find you and tell you how he felt. 

There was a possibility that you’d either freeze or tell him that you didn’t feel anything for him any more. In that case, there was nothing he could do about it. He’d just have to accept the truth as it was. Once he saw the word Vietnam in bold letters, he took a sharp turn and looked throughout the passengers—wanting nothing more than to finally find you. Actually, it didn’t take too long for his vision to land on you. 

Mark could point you out in a crowded room. In concerts with thousands of fans in attendance, he would always find you without trouble. That’s just how love worked. He wasted no time walking towards you and immediately sank down on his knees. There were so many red flags going off in his mind, telling him to turn around and that it was too late but he refused to listen. 

It took you a couple of seconds to register what was happening and you brought your gaze up to the other passengers who were waiting to board. Their expressions of shock and interest made it clear to you that no—you weren’t hallucinating. Seeing him in the coffee shop was already a lot to take in. It almost felt like you were asleep and you dreamt this entire thing but no; he was kneeling right in front of you. 

“Mark, what are you—“

“I shouldn’t have let you go. Not ten minutes ago. Not five months ago. Fuck—I couldn’t just sit and pretend that it’s a coincidence that we’re both here. You know me better than anyone else y/n, I never used to believe in that fate bullshit. But that was before you became my life. I could have flew out yesterday and you could have flown out later on this evening but here we are. At the exact same airport at the exact same time. You never told me why you left—I’ve been trying to come up with reasons for myself just so I could get closure but nothing makes sense. Look—I know I was a shit boyfriend and I know you deserve someone so much better than me, but I’m selfish. All I’ve ever wanted in my life was someone who could love me the way you do—the way you did so passionately. I know I took you for granted and there aren’t enough words in the English dictionary for me to explain just how sorry I am for all that I’ve put you through. I’m sorry for not being there for you as much as I should have, I’m sorry for not giving you the love and support you’ve never failed to give me, I’m sorry for not giving you the time and attention you deserved. There’s no excuse for my actions, there really isn’t. But I just need you to know, these past few months have been an actual living hell for me. I didn’t realize how blessed I was to have you in my life until you were no longer mine. I don’t expect you to come back to me. I’m sure you were suffering in our relationship, so this is my karma. I just want you to know that I still love you, I never stopped and I don’t think I ever will. That’s what scares me the most. Damnit, I don’t even know if you’re in a relationship or not. I shouldn’t have assumed—ahhh, forget I said anything. Have a safe flight.” 

You felt the need to throw up. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it was one of those situations where you were extremely lightheaded and on the verge of passing out. Why did he think that confessing all of that was the right thing to do? Especially in the middle of an airport with dozens of eyes now staring at the both of you. It’s as though he knew exactly what he was doing putting you on the spot like that. He knew you’d give in to him seeing as though you brought attention to a growing crowd. 

People enjoy watching couple’s drama and the thing was, Mark wasn’t exactly quiet while pouring out his heart to you. Then again, you knew Mark wasn’t the type to do that. He was extremely soft spoken, so with the way he was practically raising his voice at you, it was obvious he meant business. 

You were hoping that nobody would recognize him—fearing that he would get in a lot of trouble if word were to get out about the two of you. His reaction amazed you though; he didn’t seem the least bit phased at the idea of both his and your photo being plastered all over newspapers. 

You could see the headlines now; KPOP idol Mark Tuan causes a scene with unknown female at airport. Is this his current girlfriend? Or a former flame? 

The gentle tug on your shirt is what broke you out of your thoughts. His pained expression felt like a slap to your face. He was right; you never gave him an actual reasoning for breaking up with him, but who could blame you? You were a coward. If you were to tell him of your insecurities and the fact that you were genuinely unhappy because you couldn’t even consider your relationship a legitimate one, he would have made promises on changing and making things better and you would probably have listened to him and these last couple of months would never had happened. But you were confident that nothing would change. 

You weren’t stupid; Mark was both a man of words and actions and it was a trait of his that you appreciated. Yet, sometimes he made promises only to break them not too long after. A lot of the time though, it wasn’t his fault. His schedule kept him from many dates, vacations, trips to visit your family and just spending time together back at your shared apartment. You’d always feel like the odd one out; being the only person without a significant other. 

Things like that never really bothered you until one of your friends pulled you to the side after dinner and asked you if you could really see yourself putting up with the current situation you were in with Mark for however long more he’d be an idol for. You should have been honest with him; he deserved to know the truth but then again, you were very good at running away from your problems. 

Although her words weren’t the only reason why you ended things, they did open your eyes to the fact that if you did continue to stay with Mark, you’d lose yourself completely. Mark was your main priority. You would always put him first no matter how busy or tired you were. It was when you realize he never did the same for you that you accepted the idea of leaving him for good. Hearing him confess that he was still in love with you though, and that he was genuinely nothing without you made you feel something you haven’t quite felt since you left. 

Even if you were the one who decided that you didn’t want to continue having him as your person for the time being, your romantic feelings for Mark never stopped nor did they ever waver. There were days where you missed him dearly; even if he was gone all the time, he was still your boyfriend and they two of you stayed in contact enough for you to forget about the distance even if it were just for a little while. 

Sometimes, you’d find yourself typing in his number and writing a message to him, but then you’d stop yourself mid sentence, only then remembering the breakup and that you were the one who initiated it. You constantly reminded yourself that the breakup was the best decision you could make not only for you but for Mark too. 

Your relationship probably held him back from so much and although he never once complained about having a significant other, you could visibly see that he was exhausted from all of his scheduled activities—having to come home, entertain you and show you affection had to add on more weight to his shoulders. You couldn’t blame him for being so tired; Got7 practiced for ten to twelve hours a day then they’d go straight in to the studio to write and record songs. 

They’d also film reality tv shows and other kinds of segments, so when he’d come home—his body language would speak for him since he never seemed to have the courage to tell you that he was worn out from a long day. The idea of wanting him back was stupid since you were the one who walked away. But you missed him just as much as he claimed to miss you. You wished things could be different so that you could actually enjoy the experience of an actual relationship—yet, you would rather go months without seeing Mark, kissing him, holding him and being held by him, running to him whenever life could get too tough and being the girl that all his fans and the people who adored him could only wish to be in the place of. 

You were confident that there would be no one else for you and being without him for such a long time made you accept that you no longer wanted to continue doing so anymore. You continued to sit there; not knowing what to say or do really. Your mind was drawing a complete blank. Slowly, Mark got up from off the floor and softly bowed in your direction, taking the silence as your answer. As he began to walk away, the tight grip on his wrist made him smile like an idiot to himself. 

“When do you get back?” He turned around and looked at you in curiosity, but quickly grabbed his phone from out of his back pocket and flipped through his calendar faster than you’ve ever seen anyone do before. 

“Two weeks. How come?”

“Can you wait for me?”

Wait, did this mean what he could only hope and dream that it meant? Were you—were you going to give him another chance? Sure, he would have preferred an explanation as to why you broke up with him and what went on in your mind for the last couple of months. But he understood that there was a time and place for such a serious topic.

He wasn’t thinking when he literally poured out his heart out to you. When the two of you were together, the entire world would disappear. Maybe that’s why he pushed away the thought of causing a scene in the middle of an airport, surrounded by at least fifty strangers. He lost all his sanity whenever it came to you and he was just so focused on trying to bring you back in to his life to even care about the consequences that would come with the news of his relationship with you. 

“Of course I can—I’ll wait however long I need to for you. But, um—what am I going to be waiting for?” To his surprise yet excitement, you brought one of your hands up to his face and gently grazed his cheek. He wasted no time leaning his face in to your palm and left a soft kiss against your wrist.

“I’m yours, if you’ll have me again. I’ve missed you, more than I’m willing to admit. I won’t lie and say I made a mistake in breaking up with you. We needed this—well, I needed this. I gave my entire being; my mind, heart, body and soul to you. I did everything for you. To make you happy and by doing so, I became so depressed. I wasn’t myself anymore and I wanted to fall back in love with myself before I could continue loving you. You’re right, there’s no way us meeting up is mere coincidence. As soon as you walked up to me, I knew God brought us together. I love you Mark. I’m sorry, I know I have a lot of explaining to do but it’s going to have to wait. I love you, so much. I’ve missed you so much.”

Without hesitance or scanning the area to see whether or not the eyes were still on you, he threw himself at you and connected your lips with his. Although it’s been a while since you’ve last kissed him, your lips melded perfectly together as if the break never happened. His lips were soft and tasted like cherry chapstick and coffee. 

God, how did you go so long without kissing the beautiful man in front of you? As much as you wanted to continue your little make out session, only then did it occur to you that you and Mark weren’t alone and that there was a chance someone recognized him. He whined adorably when you pulled your mouth away from his but with the knowing look you sent his way, he understood why you did so. 

“Wow, I just—wow. Kissing you was always one of my favorite past times with you. Well, other than cuddling, taking naps, making love and—ow! What? I’m being honest baby. I’ve missed every single thing about you. I’m so fucking happy. This time will be different, I promise. I know how it is to live without you and let me tell you, it was actual hell on earth. Every single day felt like a month. Not hearing that contagious laugh of yours, not seeing that breathtaking smile and not having your arms around me—it fucking sucked. I should’ve fought harder to prevent you from leaving, but none of that matters anymore. You’re here now. You’re back in my life and I have no intention on ever letting you go again. I love you so much y/n, more than you’ll ever be able to fathom with that pretty head of yours.” 

He pulled you in for a tight hug; placing his chin on your head and rubbing your back soothingly. The two of you stood there for a couple of minutes, it didn’t even hit you that he was there and that he was going to be yours again. Honestly, you wanted to just say fuck it and reach out to your supervisor, stating that you were unable to make it to Vietnam. Now that the two of you were rekindling your relationship, you wanted to be around him as much as you could. You trusted that he was going to keep his word and take care of you this time. He left soft kisses in your hair and began running his hands along your sides. 

“Mmm—I’ve missed this.”

“Me too.” He was about to lean in for another kiss but you playfully leaned away. 

“Babeeeee—“

“Mark, if anyone recognizes you—“

“I don’t give a shit. Let them. If people find out that I’m in love, then good. I want everyone to know about you. My heart has been yours for years now and it’s going to stay that way for the rest of our lives. I’d give up being an idol if it meant finally getting to settle down and start living the life we’ve always wanted. If I can’t wait too long, maybe I’ll just fly to Vietnam and we can—“

“Flight 0904 to Vietnam is now boarding. Please take out your tickets and start heading to the gate.” A soft groan fell from Mark’s lips and you took this time to steal a few kisses from him. He smiled against your lips and cheekily squeezed your waist. “Do you still have the same number?”

“Mhm, you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I never deleted it, but just like everything else about you, your number is tattooed on my heart. Have a safe flight. Text me as soon as you land. Have a great trip baby. I’ll try to call and text you as much as possible. I love you y/n. Thank you for coming back to me. See you soon.”