#while people were wearing bloody SUNGLASSES

[sebnameyourcar]

if the aussies get a draw out of this because of the manchester rain………..

[ladykailitha]

The Rise of The Fallen Part 2

Here we are at last, the end of an era. Other than a short Christmas ficlet this is the end for our boys.

Thank you to everyone who tagged along with me for this long adventure.

Part 1

Abbadon reveals himself and the two most important people in his life. And we see a bit of the aftermath.

~

Abbadon: So before I take off the mask and let the whole world see who I am first I want to thank our manager, who the world had only known as Miss Celeste Baptiste. Robin Buckley. She is my rock and as Shane said, my platonic soulmate and twin. We might not be related but if feels like we were separated from birth.

A picture is shown of their fashion plate of a manager. Dark black bob, dark sunglasses, slinky feminine clothes. The woman that walks into frame is not that. She still has the slender frame and sharp features but she’s wearing boxy, masculine clothing. Her blond hair is a choppy bob that frames her pretty face and bright blue eyes. She grins as she sits on one of the arms of the chair and Abbadon puts one arm around her waist.

Robin Buckley: Hey guys! To all my friends and family: gotcha! As if someone as wonderful as me would ever be just some rockstar’s low level PA. Slubs!

I laugh. She winks at me and I can feel my cheeks flush.

KL: Were you their manager from the beginning?

RB: Yeah. Abbadon and I have always worked together since our first jobs. There was no doubt that I was going to be their manager.

KL: Tell us about those first couple of years.

She huffs her annoyance, not at the question but at the memory: It was pretty hard just getting into the doors of dive bars. Like really hard. I didn’t look like a manager and they didn’t look like a metal band. They looked like the dads of a metal band.

She kisses the top of Abbadon’s head.

RB: It was Abbadon who came up with the idea. At first it was just me. I’d dress up like some high powered manager maybe they would stop fielding my calls. And it worked to get them in the door, but the second they walked on stage, they’d get booed right back off again.

The band shifts uncomfortably in their seats at the memory. They all seem affected by the booing. Even Shane Kendrick who exudes sunny by nature.

RB: So I suggested they do the same. Dress up as metalheads and the metalheads will come. It was Abbadon that suggested the masks and hoods. All the members in the band have features that can’t be covered up by makeup to make them unrecognizable.

She starts counting off on her fingers.

RB: Spence’s crooked nose, Shane’s red hair and freckles. Simon’s high cheek bones and sharp jaw. And Abbadon’s hair.

I frown

KL: Is it red like Shane’s or something?

Robin and Abbadon laugh. And even Abbadon’s partner smiles widely.

Abbadon: I was famous for my hair in high school. It was even one of my nicknames. The Hair. So yeah. Hoods were the only thing that would cover it for sure all the time.

KL: Why not a wig?

Abbadon: I allergic to whatever they use for them. I’ve tried all kinds but I always end up with a rash and a bloody scalp.

I wince.

KL: That must be painful.

Abbadon: There’s something else the mask covers. I have distinctive moles on my face and while they can be covered with makeup, it’s still visible in certain lights.

RB: Like the stage lights in a stadium. You can tell there’s a bump there.

KL: So masks it was then?

Abbadon nods

Abbadon: But I never thought to cover the ones on my neck. I didn’t think that anyone would be paying attention to those.

Robin smacks his arm playfully.

RB: And we all saw how well that worked out for you.

Abbadon shrugs, clearly unrepentant.

Abbadon: I got a boyfriend out of the deal.

Then Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin walks into frame and sits on the other side of Abbadon on that arm of the chair.

Eddie Munson: That would be me! He waves cheerfully at the camera. I had a crush on Abbadon when we were in high school so I mapped every freckle, every mole, every line that I could see. A lot.

KL: Tell us about how you figured out they were one and the same.

He grins and Abbadon shakes his head fondly.

EM: I went to a concert of theirs with the friend everyone wants to see the reaction to this video filmed. I grilled the kid to figure out if he was in on the secret, too. But nope. He’s definitely caught on by now, though. He winked at the camera. Sweetheart, I have my own confession to make.

Abbadon looks up at him expectantly. Don’t ask me how I can tell with the mask still on. The best I can figure is that he looks like a puppy. Head tilt and all.

EM: Jeff’s known who you are for almost as long as I have.

Abbadon’s laugh is bright and clear.

Abbadon: I know, babe. He told me that first tour together. I thought you knew.

Eddie turns toward the camera slowly.

EM: Jeffrey Oliver Lawrence, I am going to murder you and no one will ever find your body.

Everyone laughs.

Eddie and Abbadon share a look and Abbadon takes a deep breath. He pulls off his mask, but his head is still down. He pushes back the hood and takes a deep shuddering breath. Both Robin and Eddie take one of his hands and gives it a squeeze. Abbadon raises his head. They give his hands another squeeze and exit frame, leaving Abbadon alone in the hot seat.

He’s a good looking man with an easy smile and yes, very distinctive moles. His hair is floppy and a warm honey brown.

Abbadon: Hey, Dustin. I know you’re about ready to murder me right now, and I can absolutely explain if you’ll let me. I’m really, really sorry I didn’t tell you. Hiding this from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I know you. There is no way you would have been able to keep this to yourself. You would have been too excited.

Your two best older guy friends frontmen of their own metal band? You would be vibrating out of your skin to tell people. And you wouldn’t mean to, but someone you thought you could trust would sell me out for a tidy check and whole lot of hurt. Not just me and the rest of The Fallen, but for you too.

I know it’ll be some small consolation, but the first album is about you and your friends. I hope you can forgive me.

Abbadon chokes back tears.

Abbadon: Right. Now that the apology is out of the way. My name is Steve Harrington and I’m 33. Like Shane said, same birthday, year and all. I wasn’t always a metalhead. I only started listening to it because of Corroded Coffin. They were from Hawkins and Dustin highly recommended them to me. So I started listening to them. They were so good that I kept going back to the music store–he rolls his eyes yeah, yeah. Lame I know. But the internet! he waves his hands I wanted a person’s recommendation not some algorithm. And I got really into it.

KL: How long had you been singing?

Abbadon (SH): Since I was a kid. I learned how to play piano, sing, and dance. My mother wanted to me to be a little gentleman. Hell I even had allocation lessons.

My eyebrows shoot up.

KL: Was your mom trying to live out some Jane Austen fantasy through you?

Abbadon (SH) laughs: Something like that.

KL: I’m a little furious about the names, if I’m honest.

Abbadon (SH) throws his head back and laughs. The rest of the band joins in.

Abbadon (SH): I would like to take credit for it because it is so fucking hilarious. But no, that was all Shane.

Astraeus (SK) grins.

Astraeus (SK): Hell yeah it was. Robin hated it at first but once people started using them it just kinda made sense. And the rest is as they say is history.

Abbadon (SH) gets up and moves out of the hot seat to sit with his band.

KL: It must be so strange to be calling each other by your real names.

Asmodeus (SO): Fuck no. We’re friends outside of the band.

Abbadon (SH): I know we don’t have the decade long history of playing together before making it big the way Corroded Coffin does, but we’re solid as friends. We were all invited to Spence’s daughters’ Christening. Shane couldn’t make it because he had another family thing crop on the same weekend, but we support each other.

I am taken back at how fierce Steve Harrington is about the love his bandmates. I can see around him his band relaxes when he takes charge, like a commander of a military unit. They all look up to him, even though Shane and Steve share the same birthday, it’s clear they love Steve like an older brother.

KL: So what’s next for The Fallen?

Azrael (SP): I know fans will be disappointed to hear but we are taking a two year break. We need time for our families to get use to the fact we lied to them for the last twelve years.

Asmodeus (SO): There maybe some heavy fallout that we have to deal with and we don’t want our attention divided like that.

Astraeus (SK): Our music would suffer for it and we don’t want to do that to our fans. We love you guys.

Abbadon (SH): Trust the process. Trust us. I know that seems like a lot to ask right now. But please respect our privacy at this time.

KL: Thank you so much for joining us today. The Fallen everybody!

There is a smattering of claps from the crew and Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley whistle and cheer.

Looking over at the four men that felt they had to hide themselves to be treated with respect in the genre they loved you can see the weight of the world has lifted from their shoulders and they are happy.

*

“Why does Eddie have to record this?” Dustin whined.

Eddie laughed. “You are the self-proclaimed biggest fan of The Fallen, I’m honestly more surprised that you didn’t want to record it yourself.”

Steve bumped his shoulder into Dustin’s. “And it’s not like we’re going to stream it. If you have a bad reaction, it won’t go up on TikTok. I promise.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. “Pinkie swear?”

Eddie and Steve both held out their pinkies. Dustin used both of his hands to shake on it and then settled in to watch the video.

Steve shifted nervously in his seat as his three best friends in the world revealed themselves to be members of a famous metal band. As they dropped hints about Abbadon’s identity.

Dustin’s face went from excitement to confusion to anger and Steve braced for the explosion.

But it never came. Dustin, for all his bluster growing up, had changed. He waited until Steve’s reveal and his apology.

Dustin’s anger vanished like mist in the morning sun as he watched TV Steve fight back tears about having to keep this secret from him.

He slowly turned to Steve. “Which songs are about me?”

Steve barked out a laugh. “There’s only one about just you. The rest are about you and your friends. The one about you is ‘Brother’. The ones about you and your friends are ‘The Heart and the Flame, ‘My Lullaby’, and ‘Kiss the Girls, Kiss the Boys’, from the third album is about you guys, too.”

Dustin frowned for a moment. “That last one was directed at Mike and Will specifically, wasn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “It was aimed at all of you. Kissing who you want to should never have to hurt. Boys or girls. And at the time it was also partially about me being bisexual, too.”

Dustin thought for a moment and then launched himself at Steve, throwing his arms around the boy that became his surrogate older brother.

“I forgive you!” he mumbled into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve sighed in relief. He gave Eddie the thumbs up and he stopped recording.

“I almost told you so many times, Dusty,” Steve murmured. “You have to believe that.”

Dustin nodded. “I’m a little hurt at the moment but I think once the shock wears off, I’ll agree with you. But I’ll be grumpy about it.”

Steve squeezed him tight. “As is your right.”

“I still can’t believe you and Robin told us that you were gofers for the record label!” he huffed.

Steve and Eddie laughed.

“As if we would have stayed if it sucked that bad, bud,” Steve said. “We’ve always moved on and up with every job we’ve ever taken.”

“I guess I didn’t really look hard into it,” Dustin admitted. “The rest of us had all gotten these amazing jobs.”

He began counting on his fingers, “Max is a software designer and motion capture stunt skateboarder for all the Tony Hawk games. Lucas recently retired from a decade long career in the NBA. Mike and Will are New York Times best selling children authors. Ellie is a fashion designer that has had her work featured at New York fashion week. Eddie’s a rockstar, Nancy and Jonathan are an epic journalist duo. Argyle has three food trucks and a Michelin star restaurant in LA. And I work for freaking NASA, man, with my wife.”

“I’m still upset you and Ellie didn’t work out,” Eddie groused.

“She got invited out to London at the same time I got the job at NASA,” Dustin said with a wry smile. “We knew then we wanted different things.”

He huffed out a sigh and rotated on the sofa so he was facing Steve. He twisted his fingers together and bit his lip. “When Azrael talked about how isolating it felt that no one in your lives figured out that you were in one of the biggest metal bands in the country, I scoffed.” He looked down at his hands.

“Because I was so sure if I had known anyone in The Fallen I would have guessed,” Dustin continued. “Only I did know someone and I would have never guessed. I was so willing to believe that you and Robin just didn’t have the ambition to chase your own dreams. And I’m sorry.”

Steve, Robin, and Eddie all hugged him.

“Now you’ve got hella bragging rights at work now,” Robin said with a smile. “You’re friends with Corroded Coffin and The Fallen.”

Dustin lit up and started talking a mile a minute, hands waving and grinning from ear to ear.

Steve pulled out his phone and read the messages he was getting from his best friends and bandmates. There had been a couple of rough moments, like Steve knew was going to come from his own parents and maybe even a couple of their group, but they would make it just fine.

The least surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Chrissy and Robin were dating and had for a couple of months after their trip around the world, but waited until the reveal to come out to tell people.

The most surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Simon had plucked up the courage from somewhere to ask Vickie out on a date. She said yes.

There were hints on the horizon of another relationship forming too. And judging from Shane’s texts, once Gareth got over the shock of Abbadon being Steve, the two of them were going to be a pretty sure bet.

Nadia was the only one who really took it in stride. But that woman was unflappable. She just calmly sat Spence down to discuss the sudden invasion of their private lives and how to handle all that. Spence had admitted in the group chat that he cried in relief when she took over.

It looked as though The Fallen was going to rise from the ashes of this experience just fine. Hell, they might even get a album or two out of the deal.

Because “The Rise of The Fallen” sounded like one hell of a song title and album name, too. Their future was going to be as bright as their past. He just had a feeling.

~

Yes, Robin flirted with Karla but only to make her blush. She is faithful to her Chrissy.

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @chameleonhair @eyehartart

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @clockworkballerina

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Do we know how Price came to his hat?

How about Nik gave it to him shortly after they met, because young Price got horribly sunburned on his face and neck, the translucent (and at that time not yet so freckly) fucker. He kept it every since. It's practical! It's only because it's practical, you see. No other reason.

Nik POV: That's my ha- nevermind, I'll never get it back (insert budding feelings accompanied by possessive pride that Price wears some of his)

Fuuuck, I love this so much. I usually have the cigar habit as something Nik gave him, but this is equally as delicious.

Maybe they were conducting an op in the middle east somewhere. It was a dry heat out in the desert so Price didn't notice it as much. He was used to the clammy, uncomfortable heat we get in the UK. To him, that's heat, the kind that makes you soak through your shirt at the back, under your arms, under your damn tits.

The dry desert crept up on him and while he absolutely recognised the importance of maintaining himself properly so that he didn't jeopardise their mission, he had been single-mindedly focused on everyone and everything else besides. He didn't realise he was dehydrated until he started getting dizzy while looking over a map with Mac and Nik.

Mac took one look at him and grunted. "When's the last time ye took a pish?"

Price couldn't fuckin' remember, could he? He looked at his captain stupidly, dry mouth sticky and cloying.

"Fer fuck sake, g'wan back tae the tent, ye dafty. If ah see ye out here before ye've sunk a litre, ah'll skelp ye. Nik, get him outta my sight."

So, Nik walked Price back to the tent they were storing a few crates worth of explosives in and sat him down with a Camelbak full of cold water. Once Price started drinking, he couldn't stop, it was possibly the best thing he had ever tasted in his bloody life. It didn't matter that half of it sloshed down his stubbled chin onto his shirt.

"Ah, ah, take it easy, lieutenant," Nik said, placing one of his big hands over Price's wrist. "You will make yourself sick." He smiled big, unabashed, and Price looked at himself in those mirrored aviators with a faint scowl. It was unreasonable how good-lookin' Nik was in a backwards khaki patrol cap and sunglasses. Shouldn't Russians burn in the heat? They were fifty percent snow, weren't they?

"'m fine," Price sniffed, always a little defensive around Nikolai, and now feeling extra sensitive after getting bollocked in front of him.

He hated that Nik made him feel his age. Twenty-three was young for a lieutenant but it was never usually a problem. People saw his scores, his records, his medals even now, and they forgot his age. But Nik had a way of reminding Price that, while he was looking up swearwords in the French dictionary at school to try and impress Tracy from class 9B2, Nik was already flying Sukhois and learning fifty ways to kill a man.

Nik nodded and they sat in silence for a while. Price's eyes wandered to the tent flap, and he was returning to the map in his mind when Nik's fingers, cool from where they had been holding the water bottle, touched his ears. They felt like shards of ice. "Ah, wossat fer, ya muppet?" He grumbled.

Nik's grin grew a little wider. "Your ears have burned, and the back of your neck."

"Fuck sake, I put factor fifty on this mornin'..." Price traced his fingers from his ear down his neck. The burning stopped at the line of his shemagh, which had offered some protection, even soaked in sweat.

"Da, but you are... hmm, svyetlokozshee, uh.." Nik's eyes flicked back and forth as if reading from an internal dictionary, "ah, fair-skinned."

It was damn impressive how he did that. His file had said eight languages. English was number eight. Mac had said something about mensa international having a file on Nik too. Too intelligent to be slumming it in the desert with the SAS, and yet here he was.

The way Nik said fair-skinned sounded far too fond and Price's skin would be blushing if it wasn't already red. He decided not to examine the reaction too closely. Price touched his ears gingerly, and scrunched his nose. "Great."

"You must look after yourself, lieutenant. You are the most valuable asset here." Nik dropped his pack from his shoulder and began rummaging through. He pulled out a roll of khaki and shoved it into Price's hands. When Price unrolled it, he puffed a laugh.

"A boonie hat, you jossin' me?"

Nik looked at him blankly.

"Oh, uh... Takin' the piss, as in, I'm gonna look like a twat if I wear this."

Nik rolled his shoulders in an 'eh' shrug that made Price want to shove the hat in his mouth. "You will look like a twat if you faint in the heat and the captain has to carry you out under fire."

Price licked the salt from his lips, fixing Nik with a long stare, hating the fact that he was right more than he hated the boonie hat. "Fair," he said, finally. He unrolled it, flattened out the brim, and shoved it on his head, picking up the water bottle for another long drink.

Nik watched him, eyes invisible behind his aviators, but Price was sure he was... admiring. Just felt it. Nik always looked at him in ways like that. Fuck knows why. "Wot?" Price asked, wiping his mouth on the back of his wrist.

"Hm, just... an echo of tomorrow."

"You are bloody odd, Nik."

"Da," Nik conceded, slapping his knees before he rolled to his feet. "I will tell the captain you are almost ready. Two hundred and fifty more millilitres to go, such a good boy."

A shiver of something not entirely unpleasant ran down Price's spine, and he growled. "Just for that I'm gonna tip it on the floor."

"No, you will not." Nik didn't even look back as he walked out of the tent.

Price scowled, flashed his middle finger at Nik's back, and drank the last quarter of a litre as petulantly as he could muster. "Fuckin' wanker..."

[killersfool]

Special Guest | ROBERT KEATING

PAIRING: robert keating x original f!character

GENRE: strangers to lovers

SUMMARY: hina and her band are invited as special guests to inhaler’s show in germany

WORDS: 7.3k

WARNINGS: kissing, swearing, alcohol use

I clutch onto the handle of my suitcase, feeling it bump against my fingers as the wheels roll along. It's a boiling day. It's so stuffy within the airport and the pace of our steps really isn't helping. My other hand is clutching a cup of iced coffee from Starbucks. It's freezing cold and as I gulp it down, I start to feel a little bit cooler. Sweat lines my back and neck. I really need to get out of here.

Michael, the band's bassist, has decided to lob all of his things into a luggage trolley.  I pile my suitcase and rucksack onto it. My arm needs to rest for a while. Especially since I'm going to be playing piano tonight. I need to make sure that my fingers are actually intact. Or else everything would probably go wrong.

"Where's the exit?" Sadie calls out. She's got her drumsticks out already. Eager. She's walking around in circles, glancing around corners, shifting through people. She stands out amongst the crowd of tourists. Her blue, braided hair shines under the glimmering lights above her. She's wearing a silk dress and fishnets, completely oblivious to the world around us. She doesn't seem to care. She's instead focused on trying to find the way out. If only airports were simpler. Us idiots can never understand what the bloody hell is going on. The fact we're in Germany in making it a lot worse. My German skills are almost nil.

"Hallo! Wo ist der Ausgang?" Michael is the only mildly intelligent one out of the band. He's got google translate on his phone and is talking to a random man.

"Es ist hinter dir. Hast du kein Augen?" The man seems to be rather pissed off.

"Danke!" Michael points to the sliding doors only metres ahead. Sadie had somehow looked in every direction except the right one. "Wasn't that hard was it?" Michael says.

"What would I do without you?" There's sarcasm dripping through each of Sadie's words. She shakes her head at the sight of the sliding doors.

We walk out of the airport. Michael's bass case gets trapped in the door. He groans frustratedly and uses all the strength he has to pull it out. We laugh at him. German families side-eye us.

"I want to see Bobby Skeetz already, " I say as we leave the airport. There's dozens of cars and taxis dropping off groups of people. "I'm still pissed at him."

"About what?" Eric, the lead guitarist, is clueless as always.

"About blocking me on Instagram, that's what. Just because I commented that his hair needed a wash or summat. I'm going to have a right word with that—"

"Hina —" Michael interupts me. I ignore his attempts.

"—complete total bellend-sucking rat." I grin to myself, downing my drink. The rest of the band are staring at me as if I've killed someone. Sadie's eyes are so wide I wonder if her eyeballs are going to fall out. Eric has a hand over his mouth. Michael is completely frozen in place which is rather unusual.

"Nice to meet you too."

I stop in my tracks. An Irish accent rises behind me. It's close. I can almost feel the words press against my sunburnt neck. I'm trying to mouth questions to my band mates, trying to ask them who it is that's standing behind me. If it's Bobby, I'm fucked. If it's Eli, we could probably laugh it off. If it's Ryan, he'll throw his drumsticks at me. If it's Josh, I'll jump off a cliff. All great options.

I pluck up some courage. Cautiously, my feet swivel around. Then my legs, then my torso, then my head. I take a thankful breath at the sight of dark, curly hair. This feeling deteriorates when right beside him, blue, piercing eyes are staring me down. Arms are crossed across his chest. Lips are pursed tightly shut. Messy hair has been blown in all directions due to the light, fluttering wind. Sunglasses are resting atop his head. I try to look anywhere else but him. He's taller than I'd expected, he looks down at me and I'm finding it very hard to escape those eyes. I stare at the sliding doors we'd just passed through. Eli is laughing to himself. Just as I had suspected.

Josh and Ryan are beside the two other boys. They're laughing as well. At least they're not taking it too seriously. I didn't mean it. I think.

I'm caught in the most awkward silence of my life. My lips have parted out of pure confusion. No one is saying anything. I don't know whether I feel stupid, embarrassed or proud. I just stay there, rooted to the ground like an oak tree, standing as tall as I possibly can.

"I was not expecting that," Eli tries to ease the tension rising in the air. I silently thank him through the motion of my eyes. Who knows how long we'd just be stand there if he hadn't have said anything?

"Well, shit. Hi," I say. For some reason I'm standing in front of the others. They've left me to fend for myself. I probably shouldn't have said that. I can never really control my mouth. I guess this is karma. "Nice to meet you too..."

Robert isn't speaking. I take a look at his clothes. He's got shorts on and a plain white tee with the words 'The Strokes' upon it. There's a hat atop his head which barely fits him and sort of hangs off his head. His long eyelashes flutter upwards and downwards as he traces his gaze towards me. He's still giving me a certain look. It's angered but it also seems as if he's trying to contain a smile.

"Sorry about that." I look at Robert.

"I'm very hurt." He feigns a look of sadness. He lowers his gaze to the ground, downturns his lips and shakes his head from side-to-side. "I can't believe you could ever say that."

"Oh shit-" Michael murmurs behind me. I kind of want to hit the three of them. They're not helping at all. God... is he joking or not? Elijah and the other lads seem to be taking it seriously. They're patting his back awkwardly.

"Where's the nearest exit?" Sadie's already planning an escape route. She's taken a few steps away from the group to look around at the airports different paths.

"Geez, Robert, I wasn't being serious-"

"Only joking, you tossers." He cuts me off with the biggest laugh I've ever heard. He finally breaks through the morose facade, revealing a toothy grin. His earrings glint as he tilts his head. The other members are having none of it. They all punch him playfully in the stomach. He groans. "Welcome to Berlin," Robert continues, raising his hands up in the air. My friends are still unsure about this whole situation. I am too. We start to stride down past the airport to a long stretch of streets.

"I really fucking hate you sometimes," Elijah says to the blue-eyed boy with an irritable sigh.

Robert grins. "Oh, I know you do." He then approaches me. "Did I actually block you?"

"Yeah, you did. I was heartbroken."

"Don't remember doing that." He snorts. The tension between us is starting to diminish. "Must've been drunk. Or played one too many rounds of bird bingo. Gets me angry, to be fair. Probably went on a blocking spree. Went through all my followers and eeny meeny miny moed them."

"Bird bingo?" I try not to make fun of him. It's proving to be a difficult task.

"Don't even try to disrespect it- I will actually burst into tears if you dare say a word against it. We'll show you at some point. It's life changing." He's stepping down a stone path, trying not to step on the cracks. It's the most Robert thing I've ever seen. "How's the new album going?"

I didn't expect him to ask that. By the cheeky smile upon his face, I was sure he was going to make some weird comment. "A lot worse than the first one."

"I'm sure it's class," he assures.

"It really isn't."

"I bet it is."

"It's not."

"Alright. It's shite then."

"Better."

Eli has somehow become our tour guide. We're following him now down the streets. "We've booked you a hotel down in Berlin. It's grand."

"Brill, thanks," Sadie says. She's been flirting with Josh for the past half hour. She'd been eyeing him up and down at the airport and is now making him laugh like crazy. They'd be a great couple. I watch them walk together. I just know that they'll be a thing by the end of this.

"Where are we actually going?" Michael, as usual, is the one asking the sensible questions. We've been following Eli like blind puppies. We could literally be walking into a trap. They could kidnap us right now and we would never have expected it.

"The tour bus," Eli explains. "It's green. If you see it, shout."

Michael and Eric are talking to Ryan. They're talking about all things music theory, tour, favourite songs. Just your typical musician conversations. Eli is at the front, navigating. He's spotted the green tour bus in the distance and is making sure we're all going the right way. It's helpful because none of us really have a sense of direction. Robert is walking with me for some reason. He's been a few steps in front of me for the whole time. It's probably because he's got longer legs. I think he's cute. Sure. I might have stumbled across some Twitter edits of him and daydreamed about him a few times. In person, he's just as pretty— prettier in fact. I feel annoyed at myself for making a fool of myself.

I watch the muscles in his back as he strolls before me. His shirt has stuck down due to the nightmarish temperature. I thank the sun for it's service. I don't think it gets any better than this.

We continue through the streets of Berlin: winding paths, brick graffiti-stained walls, little German cafes. I've been to Berlin only once before. It feels different this time. My brain has somehow warped and I can now appreciate the simplicity of each street. Maybe it's because I focus more on the world around me as a songwriter. Ice creams are melting, music is thrumming from little speakers where buskers are singing in German. I close my eyes, feel the heat dance across my skin.

"I'm sorry about earlier." I decide to break this weird oath of silence we've somehow agreed to.

"What, the bellend-sucking rat thing?" Robert says with distaste. He now turns to look at me. He raises a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. Silver rings adorn his slender fingers. He seems to be taking a long, hard thought about what to say next.  "I forgive you. I mean, fair enough."

"What?!" I'm flabbergasted.

"I deserved it. Had it coming. I guess I've learnt my lesson to not block Hina Irvine." The way my name falls from his lips is so effortless, so smooth. Honey spilling onto a morning toast or yoghurt upon granola. It almost feels practiced. As if he's said it countless times before. I let the two words echo in my mind, dance through my skull.

"Good," I say, an afterthought. I'm glad it's settled. "Are you going to unblock me then?"

"Later. Phone's dead."

"That's what they all say."

"No, honestly. Eli drained the battery because he was calling his mam. They would not stop talking." He rolls his eyes.

"Why didn't he use his own phone?"

"He 'left' it in the bus." He moves his index and middle finger to make parenthesis. "Five minutes later, lo and behold, out appears the phone he'd supposedly 'left'. I don't know why I trust him. He's just got such a trustable face. God. I hate him."

"If any of my friends did that to me, there'd be consequences."

"I'm sure." He nods.

We follow Eli into the doors of the tour bus. It's pretty much a physical form of the band. Posters are scattered across the walls, stuck in by little silver pins. Their instruments are leaning against the two little green sofas sat in the corner. There's music playing on a bluetooth speaker. It's a song by 'The Strokes' which is perfectly matching Robert's shirt. There are a few cowboy hats sat on top of a coffee table. They've probably started accumulating them after each show.

"Ignore the hats." Josh is the first to address the mess. He picks up the hats and takes them away. He passes a green curtain to what I assume are the beds.

There's still one hat to spare which has the words 'Cheer up Baby' made with black glitter. It's bright pink with little frills across the sides. I plonk it onto my head without a second thought. I'm sure glitter has just splattered everywhere.

"Make yourself at home." Eli points over to the sofa. There are dark green pillows planted all over the place and a black blanket is draped across it. I glance at the polaroid pictures of each of the band mates that are pinned to the walls. There is one where Robert is half asleep on the ground. His hair is messy, his arms are across his chest as if he is a vampire. Each of the photos tell a story and they are all set out in chronological order. The oldest is from 2017. As I take my gaze to the first ones, I notice how much younger they all look.

The keyboardist, Louis, appears out of nowhere. He's been in the other room and is holding a cup of coffee. He greets all of us, compliments our music then begins talking to Eli.

I sit down. Ryan passes each of us a cup of orange juice. I accept it gratefully. I'm parched after being in the heat for so long. The tiny fan beside the coffee table is a welcome relief. I sigh as the cool air reaches my skin. I watch the ice cubes swim inside my cup, nudging them along with my straw.

Robert has sat down beside me. He's adding songs to the Spotify queue on Ryan's phone. He's been swiping through a playlist. I see one of our songs on it. His thumb hovers over the 'add to queue' button. I push it down onto the screen. He startles at my touch. I only realise how close I am when he turns around.

"Good song, right?" I joke. His hair has just swiped across my cheek. I try to ignore it just happened.

"Yeah..." He continues staring at the screen. It's almost as if he's scared to look at me.

"Who wants to drive?" Ryan asks.

Michael jumps up. "I will. I'll need some directions though."

"I'll co-pilot," Elijah offers. "I think I know where we're going."

The pair walk to the front of the bus. It starts moving. I drift from side-to-side as we turn corners. My head hits Robert's shouder more times I can even count on my fingers. He's still evading my gaze. He's pulled out his bass guitar and is playing through some of the songs. I watch his thin fingers dancing across the fretboard. He's got his eyes closed as he plays. I'm trying not to stare down at his hands or the muscles in his forearms. It's proving to be a very difficult task. His movements are so skillful. He makes it seem so easy.

Sadie somehow has a sixth sense which helps her detects where the nearest bottle alcohol is. Every party we've been to, every place we've performed at. She arises from the most random of places with a glass of wine or vodka. I remember one of our first gigs was in Edinburgh. There was a room backstage where we'd been left to get prepared. Michael had mentioned wanting some drinks. Sadie literally picked up a piece of the wooden floorboard to find a secret stash of whiskey. I never doubt her powers now.

She's pulled out a bottle of vodka which had been left behind the sofa. Fleetwood Mac is playing. She turns the music up and starts waving her hands in the air, already drinking shots. Eric never really know how to control her. Ryan and Josh entertained. They're bopping their heads to the music. I contemplate moving away from Robert. They're all having so much fun. Robert has gone quiet. He's still picking notes on the bass guitar.

"Hina? You want a shot?" Sadie shouts for me over the loud music. She pours some vodka into each of the boys' cups.

"Yeah, sure." I'm about to hold out my glass. Instead, I grab the bottle and take a swig. I instantly regret it. My features contort into a look of disgust. I can barely even feel my tongue. I hold it in place at the roof of my mouth to try to find any sensation. Nothing works.

Robert, now awoken from his trance, peels his head from the sofa. His eyes open until they're half-lidded. A little blue is visible under those long eyelashes. His head is tilted to the side as if he's questioning something. The bass guitar is still resting on his thighs.

"D'you want some?" I manage to say after staring at him for far too long.

His eyes fall from my face to my hands. He takes the bottle from me. His fingers brush softly over mine, all calloused yet delicate. He, similarly to me, takes a drink straight from the bottle. The others make some drunken noises of excitement. I don't even know if we'll be able to perform in this state. Sadie is standing on top of the coffee table, holding Josh's hands. Eric and Ryan are jokingly slow dancing together with cheesy smiles. Elijah has appeared and is on the phone to his mum yet again in the corner.

"We'll be at the venue in five minutes everybody!" Michael shouts down the bus.

Everyone begins to cheer. I lean against the sofa, now suddenly realising I'm sort of alone with Robert.His hands are behind his head and his eyes are closed again. He's humming along to the song that is playing. It's Love Story by Taylor Swift. Eric surely suggested it. He's obsessed with Taylor. Robert is sitting with both of his legs parted. Manspreading. I don't think he understands the effect he has on me. Especially on my intoxicated mind. I just want to crawl onto him and-

"Hina," he whispers, eyes still closed. I like the sound of my name from his mouth. It sounds like he's singing it. "When we perform tonight. Can I sing a song with you?" He looks at me. His hands are wrung together. One goes to play with his hair and his voice is hushed, nervous.

"Really? One of my songs?" I remark. I can't help but smile.

"No.. nevermind." He turns to face away from me. "Yes. Really." He says those words with more force. He leans forwards in a way of accentuating his point. "It'd be an honour."

"What do I get in return?" I challenge. He's getting closer by the second.He smells like blackberries and melted chocolate. It's a cozy scent. Inviting. I'm trying to figure out what's going on in his head. He's lost in his thought. Gears are cranking, mechanics are whirring. Until, he nods to himself as if an idea has appeared. A lightbulb has turned on. I hope he'll spit it out. Hopefully soon because the bus is going to stop any minute now.

"After the things you've said about me... I'm not sure if you deserve the incredible the thing I'm about to offer you. Like, not to burst my own bubble or anything but this is just- out of this world," he begins to ramble. I wonder if it's nervous dribble or if he's buying time because he doesn't want to say it. He leans away from me. His cheeks are a little flushed and his lips are parted the slightest bit.

"What is it, Rob?"

He takes another sip of the vodka before murmuring something incoherent.

"What was that?" I put a hand to my ear.

"A kiss!" He says it far too loud. Ryan gives us both a look, his eyebrows thread together in confusion.

I feel like we're teenagers again. "That's a shit offer." I glance down at his lips, they're pink and a little chapped. I then see how red his cheeks are now. His hair has fallen over his eyes. I ask myself whether he'd be a good kisser. Would he cup my face with his hand or grip my waist? Would he be delicate and soft or rough and practiced? My mind begins to wander to all kinds of places. I've got into a spiral of thoughts. Would he kiss me here on the sofa or press me against the wall of the bus? In the venue? At the hotel? In a bed..? I swallow. Breathe out.

"Well?" He runs his tongue over his lips, teeth appearing. He's trying to tease me, trying to make me nervous.

I bite down on my bottom lip. I try to find an answer in those angelic eyes. There's nothing. Singing with him would be great. He's got an amazing voice. Kissing him would be... well-

"Fine," I murmur.

"Now or later?" He points between us with a devilish smile.

I scoff. "Later. Don't get too excited. Which song do you want to sing?"

"Nightmare," he says. It's the title track of the album and my personal favourite. His harmonies will surely add more to the song, flesh it out all the more.

He's sat there, studying me as if he's a painter. Maybe he's asking myself the same questions I had been asking myself a few minutes ago. That's a strange thought.

"We're here!" Eli announces. Thank God. Saved by the bell. I take this as an excuse to run away from Robert. I meet with Sadie. She wraps her arm around me to steady herself as we step off the bus.

"Think you can still play drums?" I pass her the drumsticks she'd left on the sofa.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, of course. I'm not even that drunk." Her words are incredibly slurred.

"Doubt that."

"What's going on with you and Bobby?" She winks.

"Nothing."

"Hmm. Didn't look like nothing. I think he likes you. Josh said he wouldn't shut up about how great your songs are."

I blush. "Oh? That's..."

"Yeah."

It's still warm outside but there's a slight chill that strikes me. It's windy. It's nice. After being cooped up in the bus for so long, fresh air is a gift from the heavens. My hair blows away from my face and I breathe in.

We've reached the venue and parked at the back entrance. There's thankfully no fans around. They'd probably be scared of us, seeing how drunk we are. We walk over pebbled ground. Stars are glittering up above us. There are street lamps everywhere, illuminating everyone's faces.

I'm pretty sober compared to the others. I make fun of them as they stumble around like total idiots. It's my favourite pastime when touring with the likes of Sadie Green. They're all unloading their instruments from the bus, carrying them on their backs. As the keyboardist and singer, I don't have to take anything. They already have a piano in the venue and microphones. Louis has his own keyboard and synth stuff. I feel a little out of place with everyone else.

A crash sounds. The backstage door opens. We all turn at the exact same time. There's an old man with hair like a storm cloud who waves at us. "Willkommen! Welcome! I'm Albert. Come in, my friends!" His strong German accent catches me off guard. "You're just in time. The crowd is getting loud."

"Hi!" Eli shakes Albert's hand.

We follow Eli into the building. It's has a pale, beige exterior with moss growing against some of the upstairs windows. Robert walks in before me and holds open the door. He's staring right at my lips. Not even being subtle. I kick his shin once I've got inside. He makes a mouse-like squeak.

"What was that for?" He trying to act serious but he's most definitely holding in a laugh. He softly kicks the back of my leg once I've passed.

I ignore him and continue down some stairs into a dressing room. Eric, Michael and Sadie are already getting their stuff ready.

"You four are on in ten minutes, we've already set up everything for you on stage." Albert steps into the doorway. He looks like the type of guy to wear a monocle. His pocketwatch is in his hand. He gives each of a bag of German sweets. "I must say, I am a fan."

"Thank you," Eric says as he rips open his bag and begins munching.

I put my bag into my blazer pocket. I drop the cowboy hat down onto the floor, forgetting I even had it on. I sit down in front of the mirror and begin to do my makeup. Eyeliner, mascara, lipstick, eyeshadow. The speed of my movements is impalpable. I never knew my hands could move this quickly. By the time I'm finished doing my dark blue eyeshadow, the Inhaler boys come to the door.

"Good luck. You're gonna smash it," Josh says. Sadie jumps towards him and pecks his cheek. There's a lipstick stain left there once she pulls away. He cups his hand over his face with a nervous smile.

The other boys all wish us luck as we begin to file out of the room. Eli gives us all fist bumps, Louis gives us hi-fives. Ryan, Josh and Robert just wave us off. I'm the last to leave the room. I pick up my water bottle then pass all the instrument cases to get to the door. I give Eli a fist bump and I'm about to give Louis a hi-five when Robert grabs my arm. My gaze falls down to the hand on my bare skin. His fingertips are warm and soft. He just whispers into my ear, "Be prepared for the unexpected."

"What?" My nose scrunches out of confusion. I didn't think he'd be sending some random quotes in my direction.

"Hina! Hurry up!" Eric shouts from upstairs.

I just shake my head and keep walking. Now, I'm worried. Is he going to do something when he comes onto stage? Something stupid? Am I going to regret agreeing to this dumb deal? I just continue forward. I need to focus on what I'm about to be playing, how I'm going to cope multitude of people just down the hallway.

We reach the wings of the stage. Sadie is the first to go on. The crowd erupt into a frenzy at the sight of her. I glance around the corner to see dozens of smiling faces. The majority of people are hidden under the cloak of darkness. But, the ones at the front are coloured blue by the lighting above us. The crowd looks endless from here. There's a knot forming in my stomach as Eric and Michael follow Sadie onto the stage. They plug in their instruments to the amps laid out. I finally step onto the stage. The crowd screams all the more. I wave as I place my water bottle beside the mic stand. There are little golden stars painted all over the floor of the stage. I step onto one, deciding that it's going to make me lucky. This is all going to be great. Definitely.

I sit down at the piano. I press my foot onto the peddle. Sadie begins playing. The beats of the drum crashing through the air sound perfect. There's not even a single sign that she's drunk at all. This is probably the best I've ever heard her play. We play through two songs from the album. The crowd recognise them and they sing along at the top of their lungs. They're punching their arms into the air, filming us, laughing as Eric cracks his signature jokes.

By the end of the second song, I'm sweaty and pretty out of breath. I don't know how Inhaler cope with the amount of songs they do. I already feel like I'm on the verge of passing out.

I take a sip of my water. I turn to the side to see all of the Inhaler boys in the wings. They're holding their thumbs up. They had been singing along to both of the songs.

"I'm going to have a special guest for this song-"

At that, Robert decides it is his cue to run onto the stage. He doesn't even let me finish a sentence. The crowd begins chanting: 'Bobby Skeetz. Bobby Skeetz.' I laugh awkwardly into the mic. Robert sits beside me at the piano, wrapping a lazy arm around my waist. My head bumps into his side. The other band members are all mouthing words to eachother.

"Hello," Robert whispers into the mic. The crowd go silent. He's changed into some flared jeans and a white button down shirt. There's a silver chain around his neck, sitting just above his collarbones. It's weird to see him on stage without his bass guitar. It doesn't really feel right. More people have pulled up their phones to film this strange interaction. "This will be the duet of a lifetime." His hand is still at my waist, fingers lazily moving around my lower back. I drop my head upon his bare shoulder, closing my eyes at the feeling of his cooler skin.

"Are we sharing a mic then?" I whisper into his ear as Michael starts playing the bass riff. Some people at the front of the crowd instantly figure out the song. They're jumping around like lunatics.

"Is that really a bad thing?" He smirks.

"Fuck off."

"You're stuck with me now, darling." His fingers traipse up the length of my spine.

"I could stage dive right now."

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

The introduction finishes. I start to play chords on the piano. Robert sings the first line. He sounds like a fucking angel. He waves his hands along with the audience. They're loving this. No one is singing. They're all listening to his voice. I'm in some kind of trance. I can barely even remember the words. Words that I literally wrote myself. He's driving me crazy.

I near the microphone. My head brushes against his. He doesn't want to move. He's still holding onto me. I sing along with him. He starts to harmonise and I almost melt on the spot. He's looking at me with those eyes. He's smiling, freckled cheeks tinged pink. His nose bumps against mine once we get to the chorus. I swear I hear someone below us scream. There's a little beard growing that I hadn't noticed before. Little spots of acne are on his jawline. I'm using all the strength I have in myself to not kiss him right now.

As we sing the next verse, for the whole time, he just rests his head on top of mine. Strands of his hair are drifting over my forehead. He harmonises every other line. Each word is spoken softly as if he's speaking to me. It's like the crowd isn't there, or the band, or anyone. It's just me and him and the piano.

His mouth reaches my ear again. I shiver as his lips brush across the lobe. "I want to kiss you so much," he says, breathless.

"Don't." I feel a warmth in my lower stomach. I point to the crowd. They look like they're waiting for something.

"I know." He removes his hand from my back, moves away. He's using all the strength he has to not kiss me right now. He grins at the crowd. The song draws to a close. Michael plays the bass riff for a final time.

Shouts reverberate throughout the room. Robert puts his hands up and down as if he's worshipping me. I smile. He laughs. The crowd are loving it. Eric and Michael are still extremely confused but they also seem pleased. We walk towards the wings after bowing. I have a bouquet of flowers in my hands. It had been thrown in my direction by a fan.

"After our set..." Robert is at my ear again. He's panting like a dog after a walk. "Meet me in my dressing room. For, you know, bird bingo of course."

"Yeah, yeah. Course." I leave him to get prepared for their performance.

"That was bloody awesome!" Ryan gives Robert a pat on the back before they walk on the stage. "We fucked up not making you the lead singer."

Eli snatches a drumstick from Ryan's hand. He holds it centimetres from his friends face. "Don't make me do this!"

"Chill out, Eli. I'm just better." Robert crosses his arms over his chest.

Eli just scoffs. "You tell yourself that, mate." He pauses. "But, honestly, you two sing so well together."

They all go onto the stage and start playing. I'll admit this, I have seen them on stage before. I went to one of their concerts about a month ago in Dublin. We had been touring up and down the UK and somehow ended up in Ireland.  I kept it a secret from my band mates that I was going to watch Inhaler. I needed some time to myself. It gets tiring being with the same people for such a long period of time. That was one of the best nights of my life. The music, the atmosphere, the band. It was brilliant. I don't think any of them remember me being there, thank God. Sadie still thinks I disappeared that night because I'd met a fit Irish actor in a pub.

I sit down on the ground, taking a massive gulp of water. My friends are all breathing heavily. I always enjoy the feeling after the show. I always have the best sleep. I'm so tired. I can barely process any thoughts. A comfortable silence dances between us. We're all drinking and laughing.

"Should we just hire Robert at this point? The chemistry you two had was- can't even describe it." Michael is leaning against the wall, his long legs are sprawled across the dusty floorboards.

"I thought you two were going to start making out or something," Eric admits. "Sexual tension was off the charts."

"Stop." I laugh to myself.

Sadie hasn't spoken. She's too focused on Josh. Her eyes are gliding across his whole frame. She gasps everytime he plays a solo.

"You too as well. Get a room. I swear to God." Eric has had enough of us. He really can't take us seriously. "I mean, fair enough. They're pretty hot."

"Exactly!" Sadie seems to be thankful of where she's seated. A front row view of Josh. Robert has been looking at me for this whole time. He's making that unbothered face. Each time that he sings into the mic, I can't stop myself from looking at his lips. I can't stop thinking about how they'll feel against mine.

-

Robert's dressing room is a mess. His bass case has just been left on the floor. There are picks everywhere. His jacket is on the chair, his cologne is also on the floor. I glance into his open bag. There are a few records inside. He must've bought them recently because they've still got plastic seals on them. I pull them out carefully. One is 'Bleach'. I love Nirvana. I slide my fingertips over the plastic. I contemplate strealing it. I replace the record then pull out the other. It's our record. I'm in the centre of the picture with the others staring at the camera beside me. I hold it to my chest, trying not to smile too widely. I then place it back as if I'd never even seen it.

I lie down on the cold, hard ground. It's so quiet down here. They must've finished playing. My eyes fall shut. I want to fall asleep. My mind then goes to Robert. I'm in a daydream. We're both walking through a field. He's holding my hand, pointing out the birds up above us. I'm trying to focus on the words leaving his mouth but in the harsh light of the sun, he looks perfect. I'm just about to lean it to-

"Hey, Hina." The door opens. My eyes first land on long legs that seem to go on forever, then a belt, then a sweaty shirt and a sweaty face. The thin material sticks to his chest. He closes the door behind him. "What you doing down there?"

"I don't know. I'm tired."

He wipes a hand over his face. "Same."

He sits down beside me then falls back, resting his head on the floor next to me. I roll my head over to see his side profile. Perfect nose, perfect lips, perfect jaw. His hair has gone wet from all of the sweat and he's tried to move it out of his face. I'm sure he can feel me staring because he starts to smile.

"It's nice down here." He's staring at the ceiling. Our hands are so close together. I hold onto his thumb. His fingers twitch at the sudden touch.

"How was the show?" I ask him. He's still not looking at me.

His fingers intertwine with mine. "Good. I couldn't stop thinking about something though."

Now, he looks at me. His eyes run from my chin to my lips to then they meet my gaze. I don't think a guy has ever made me this nervous. I don't know why we're still on the floor. I kind of like it though.

"We don't have to... if you don't want to." I press a hand to his cheek, moving any stray hairs from his face. His skin is so warm. I want to keep my hand there forever.

"I want to," I say. I start to close the gap between us. He parts his lips when I'm just about to meet them.

"Wait." He turns away from me. I press my forehead to his ear, pepper a few kisses along his jaw. He's going red. I love it. "You were at that show, weren't you? The one in Dublin."

"No I wasn't." I grin as I nibble on his earlobe. "Must've been someone else."

He sighs as I start to kiss along his throat. I keep it delicate. I run my hand though his hair, feel each strand fall between my fingers. "Yes, you were. Near the front. You had that dark green cowboy hat. You knew all the lyrics to every song. I remember seeing you and thinking: 'I know who she is'. For the whole show, I was trying to figure out who on Earth you were. Well, now I know."

"Don't tell the others. It's a secret, okay?" I now hold my face just above his.

He places his hands carefully at the back of head. He rubs up and down the nape of my neck. "Okay."

He brushes his lips across mine, teasing me. I close my eyes as our mouths crash together. There's passion in the way he kisses. I imagined him to kiss slowly, softly but instead he's kissing me as if the world is crumbling around us. He's rough yet the movement of his hands across my skin are gentle. He tastes of coffee. His tongue drifts into my mouth, searching, tasting.

I grab fistfuls of his hair, pulling a few pieces. He groans into my mouth. I found his weak spot. I smile into the kiss.

I pull away from him. He raises an eyebrow at the movement. I then clamber on top of him, my legs wrapping over his sides. He puts both of his hands onto my hips to hold me upright. He looks up at me. He's exasperated. I think he's trying to formulate some snarky comment but all he can do is stare at me.

I lean down to kiss him again. He starts playing with my hair, kissing along my collarbones. He sucks and bites every now and then. I play with the chain at his neck, my other hand nearing the top button of his shirt. I tilt my head up to allow him better access. He licks along the base of my throat.

"I thought you said one kiss," I mutter. He's surely painted my skin with a whole load of lovebites.

He just shuts me up by kissing me once again. This time is more passionate that the last. He's bring down softly on my lips, tongue still looking around my mouth. My body is pressed flush against his. He loosely wraps his fingers around my neck, thumbs running up and down. I grind my hips against him. He grunts. "Hina..." He looks up at me. He's now bright red. He's still got his hands around my neck.

I hook my fingers to get under his shirt, slide my hands under the fabric. He leans his head further against the floor as I lean down to press my lips to his lower abs. My fingertips feel every part, as if I'm sculpting a God. His body is too good to be true. I start to suck down on his skin. He's sighing and breathing heavily. He holds onto the back of head for dear life. I start to unbutton his shirt. He puts his hands underneath my shirt as I do, cautiously sliding upwards. Once I've undone every button, I lick a stripe from his lower abs to the centre of his chest. I'm driving him insane. He keeps muttering words under his breath.

"Do you regret blocking me on Instagram now?" I move away from his torso to admire my work. There are at least ten lovebites on his skin, all scattered around his body. He pulls his body upwards to allow me to take of his shirt. I then throw it off to the side.

"Maybe." His hands are cupping my boobs over my bra. He just lets them stay there for a while.

I run my fingertips over the muscles in his back. His shoulder blades shift around. I fall on top of him. We're both tired out of our minds.

"I want to— you know. But, I'm so tired," he admits. "I don't think we'll enjoy it that much."

I glance down at his jeans. I could feel how hard he was. "I could..."

"It's fine," he whispers. He pulls me down against his bare chest. He starts to fiddle with the little braids scattered through my hair. "I just want you here. Hina, you're fucking perfect."

"Says you." I still can't get over how good of a kisser he is.

"I want to stay here forever." He presses his lips to my forehead.

I take a deep breath. Kiss him again. Now, he kisses me slowly. I drift back down to his chest and listen to each pounding beat of his heart until I'm lulled into a deep sleep.

[justforbooks]

David Soul, who has died aged 80, stormed to fame in the 1970s as half of the television “buddies” detective duo Starsky and Hutch, who careered across Los Angeles in their red and white Ford Gran Torino, over the roofs and bonnets of other cars, and through piles of cardboard boxes.

“When the Starsky and Hutch series was showing, police on patrol duty were adopting sunglasses and wearing their gloves with the cuffs turned down,” claimed Kenneth Oxford, a British chief constable. “They also started driving like bloody maniacs.” In south London, a council lowered a wall after fans of the tyre-squealing screen action used it as a launchpad to jump on to parked vehicles.

While Paul Michael Glaser played the streetwise, cardigan-wearing, junk food-eating Dave Starsky, Soul’s character, Ken “Hutch” Hutchinson, was the quieter, yoga-loving, healthy-eating one – two cool cops looking after each other as if they were brothers.

Over five series (1975-79), they patrolled a rough area populated by muggers, drug dealers, sex workers and pimps. They also fraternised with Huggy Bear (played by Antonio Fargas), a snazzily dressed, “jive-talking” informant with his own bar.

Soul traded on his newfound stardom to return to his first love, music. He recorded the ballads Don’t Give Up on Us (1976), a No 1 in the US and UK, and Silver Lady (1977), another British chart-topper.

His television career continued, but the starring roles rarely resonated beyond his homeland. An exception was the miniseries World War III (1982), in which he played an American cold war colonel trying to avert a nuclear holocaust. It also chimed with his political and social campaigning, which included supporting the anti-nuclear movement.

He took up the tempting offer to play Rick Blaine in Casablanca (1983), a five-part TV prequel to the film classic, in the role originally played by Humphrey Bogart, but it proved a flop.

Soul found renewed success – particularly on the West End stage – after moving to Britain in the 90s. He even hit the headlines beyond the review pages in the title role of Jerry Springer the Opera (Cambridge theatre, 2004-05), taking over from another American actor, Michael Brandon, as the “shock” talkshow host.

The BBC’s decision to screen Richard Thomas and Stewart Lee’s musical, complete with thousands of swear words, transvestites, tap-dancers dressed as Ku Klux Klan members and a nappy-wearing Jesus, received more than 60,000 complaints from viewers.

Soul simply relished the chance to fulfil his “dream to play in the birthplace of English-speaking theatre” after failing to “cut the mustard” when auditioning on Broadway.

He was born David Solberg in Chicago to June (nee Nelson), a teacher who had also performed as a singer, and Richard Solberg, a Lutheran minister of Norwegian descent. His father’s work as a representative of the Lutheran World Relief organisation during the reconstruction of Germany after the second world war meant the family moved to Berlin in 1949, returning to the US seven years later to live in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where David attended Washington high school.

He then acted in plays while studying at Augustana College, before moving to Mexico with his family. Influenced by his father’s work, he initially had plans to join the diplomatic service, and learned Spanish and studied Latin American history. He was also taught to play the guitar by Mexican students.

After a year, he hitchhiked to the US, landed a job singing Mexican folk songs at a coffee shop in Minneapolis and set his sights on a career in music. He also gained some acting experience with the city’s Firehouse theatre company.

While talking with friends about the metaphorical masks people wear, he came up with the idea of wearing a real one while performing so that the music stood on its own merits, and billed himself “David Soul, the Covered Man”. The William Morris Agency signed him up after hearing a demo tape, and he soon had bookings. One was in The Merv Griffin Show on TV between 1966 and 1968, when he eventually dispensed with the mask. More significantly, a talent agent spotted his acting potential.

He had a regular role in Here Come the Brides (1968-70), a comedy western series set after the civil war, as Joshua Bolt, one of the brothers running a logging company in a male-dominated Seattle frontier town and importing marriageable women.

A guest star, Karen Carlson, became Soul’s second wife (1968-77), following the dissolution of his first marriage, to Mirriam “Mim” Russeth, in 1966, three years after their wedding.

Soul was then popping up all over American TV in guest roles himself, and had a short run in 1974 as Ted Warrick, the defence lawyer’s assistant, in Owen Marshall, Counselor at Law, before wider fame came in Starsky and Hutch. By then, he was living in an “open” relationship with another actor, Lynne Marta. When he moved on to his third marriage, to Patti (nee Carnel, 1980-86), former wife of the 60s pop idol Bobby Sherman, he hit the headlines for all the wrong reasons.

In 1982, having already struck Patti several times, he returned home drunk one night following a day’s filming on Casablanca – which he correctly feared would bomb – and hit her repeatedly. He was arrested on a charge of misdemeanour battery, but a judge spared him jail on condition that he underwent therapy. Soul admitted to having a violent streak and, although he and Patti were reunited, the marriage was soon over.

He kept working, landing starring roles as Roy Champion in the cattle ranch soap-style drama The Yellow Rose (1983-84), the private eye of the title in the TV movie Harry’s Hong Kong (1987), and “Wes” Grayson, leading an FBI forensics team, in Unsub (1989), but his star was on the wane. Another marriage, to Julia Nickson (1987-1993), also failed, before he had a relationship with the actor-singer Alexa Hamilton.

Soul’s career was revived when in 1995 the theatre producer Bill Kenwright was looking for an American to star in the comedy thriller Catch Me If You Can on tour in Britain. He played Corban, a newlywed whose wife goes missing. There were other tours and Soul was in the West End as Hank in The Dead Monkey (Whitehall, now Trafalgar, theatre, 1998), Chandler Tate in Alan Ayckbourn’s Comic Potential (Lyric, 1999-2000) and Mack in Mack & Mabel (Criterion, 2006).

In between, he had one-off roles on British television, including as a locum surgeon in two episodes of Holby City (2001 and 2002), a Boston detective helping to investigate his wife’s murder in Dalziel and Pascoe (2004) and a criminology lecturer in Inspector Lewis (2012). Soul and Glaser had cameos in the 2004 film spoof Starsky & Hutch, alongside Ben Stiller as Starsky and Owen Wilson as Hutch. In the same year, Soul was granted British citizenship.

He is survived by his fifth wife, Helen (nee Snell), whom he married in 2010, and five sons and a daughter.

🔔 David Soul (David Richard Solberg), actor and singer, born 28 August 1943; died 4 January 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[archiveoftara]

Behind the scenes (part 2)

Part 1

Part 3

"Cam, we got a day off"

Impeccable timing Ali.

*Cameron's POV*

"Oh, you're awake. How's your hangover?" Ali gave you a grin.

"My head is still aching. Thanks for bringing me in, mate." Y/n said while scratching her head. Where's my thanks?

"What were you saying earlier?" I asked Ali.

"Ah. Our manager texted me that we have a off day. Change of plans, I guess." He said.

"Why don't we go out? I wanted to visit London for a long time. Can you guys show me around, if that's fine with y'all?" Y/n said in a timid voice.

"Why are you being so formal?" I asked in curiosity.

"I'm just being nice, Chapman." She glared.

"Let's meet at the lobby at 10?" Ali asked.

"Sure." Y/n said and left for her hotel.

"Did you confess?" Ali's eyes sparked at me.

"Thanks to your timing, I couldn't." I sulked.

"Hey, we got all day. We show her around London and when the timing's right I'll give you a signal. You can do this Cam!" He gave me a thumbs up.

I can do this, right?

......................

You got all dressed up in your favourite outfit. You made sure to take your Polaroid camera with you. You were excited to travel visit the city for the first time. You couldn't wait anymore and found yourself in the lobby ahead of schedule. You went to the nearest coffee shop to grab some coffee.

"Ah, it feels so good. This coffee is a bomb."

"Do you always talk to yourself?" You spun around to find a lad in a leather jacket with black jeans, wearing black sunglasses. He looks hot...what is wrong with me?

"Are you done staring?" Cameron smirked at you.

You looked the other way while sipping your coffee.

"Where's Ali?" The atmosphere turned awkward.

"He's still in the shower. I needed some fresh air so I left early." Chapman said. You responded with a nod.

God, this is awkward.

"Y/n, I am sorry." You gave a confused look to the poor boy. Before you could ask him, Ali showed up.

"Hey, sorry I took so long in the shower." He huffed and checked his watch.

"Damn, we're kind of behind schedule. Let's explore and have a great time guys" He said while holding you both in his arms.

"Someone's in a good mood." You muttered to yourself.

"Well why won't I be? It's a bloody day off. I need some quality time with my friends." Ali exclaimed. You grin in response.

At first, The boys took you to the minibus for the city tour. (we call it a double decker bus in our country, I don't know what English people call it. I hope you got the idea. Pardon me, if I'm wrong). The weather was sunny. Ali was cracking jokes and you were having the time of your life.

Then Cameron introduced you to his favourite restaurant. You had a delicious meal which led to a food coma.

After lunch, you found yourself surrounded by celebrities all around the world, of course wax figures. The Madame Tussauds. You saw pictures on social media and dreamt to visit this place before you die.

You couldn't contain your excitement and blurted "this is the best day of my life."

You didn't notice the way Cameron was looking at you. He looked at you with awe and adored every part of you.

You were too busy beaming in joy. You captured those lovely moments in your Polaroid camera.

Lastly, you found yourself sitting on the soft ground near the tower bridge.

The day was ending and the moon was rising above the sky little by little. You were shuffling through your pictures and talking to the lads.

"I'm so hungry. I'm gonna grab some snacks. Do you guys want anything?" Ali announced. You looked up and responded with a no. You carried on with your thoughts.

*Cameron's POV*

Ali gave me a signal and left the scene. Now, it's just me and y/n under the night sky.

"Hey, look here." She said while holding a picture of me and Ali making faces in front of the wax figure. "You guys look so funny, Jesus." She laughed. She seems so happy and pure under the moonlight.

"How was your day, y/n?" I asked her.

"Couldn't be better. The best day in my life, Chapman. When I first came to London, I didn't know a single soul here. I was so scared and felt homesick but you guys really made me feel at home." She said giddily.

Don't give me that look I'll fall for you even harder

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

"Did you say something?" She asked.

"Nothing." I said and got up from the ground.

I gave her a hand and she took it reluctantly.

"Y/n, I've been meaning to tell you this for a really long time." I said.

"Are you okay?" She asked in concern.

My palms were getting sweaty and my heart was beating faster like how I saw her for the first time.

"I like you. I've liked you since the day when we first met for the screen test. I know I've been a prick lately. I treated you awfully. I thought maybe If I make you hate me then I wouldn't have to confront my feelings but I was wrong. I tried to lose these feelings but I can't do it anymore." I poured my heart out to her.

"Cameron, I.. I don't know what to do with these feelings." She frowned.

"You don't have to do anything. I'm happy just the way we are, just the way we're friends. That's all I need. You make me happy, y/n." I look deep into her eyes.

"I thought I lost my friend." She whispered.

"No" guilt was taking over me

"That was a stupid move, Cam." She smirked.

"I'm sorry." I looked down.

Suddenly I felt her arms around me.

"I missed you, Cam." She nuzzles on my neck.

"I missed you too, y/n." I caress her hair.

"HEY, WHERE'S MY HUG?" Ali shouted at us.

We pulled and gave each other a smirk.

Y/n went to Ali and took the snacks from him. She came back to me with snacks in one hand and the other hand holding mine. "Would you like some snacks?" She said in mischief.

"Absolutely." I took her hand and ran.

"GET BACK HERE."

.

.

.

It's safe to say y/n found her old friend back and Cameron doesn't have to hide his feelings anymore.

Do you think y/n will like him back?

Do let me know in the comments.

[david-tennant-sunglasses-id]

Another mini round here! David has been wearing the same yellow OPs for ages now so I'm scraping the barrel a bit. That's fine! Send me photos of David Tennant wearing sunglasses that AREN'T those ones and I'll ID them if I can! Also, if anyone wants links to somehow purchase these I can start adding them to posts. Ok sunnies time

BIldaddy!

Thanks SeraphCrowley on xitter for pointing out that these, too, are Rigards. Because of course they bloody are lmao. This particular style is called "Niteowl", but they're part of a whole line of Rigards collaborations. This particular style runs in the $700+s but the less ridiculous ones of the same style are more like $500.

Here's an uncertainty with my favourite Crowley

Look, I'm relatively sure these are Persols: the bridge is a perfect match AND these are supposedly "women's" sunnies, which goes with the whole femme situation here! BUT! BUT...

something about the shape seems off to be Persols and the other possible option is that they are OLIVER FUCKIN PEOPLES lmao

The Persols are a mere $250ish...I lost the link to the verryyyy similar OPs but they were obviously about double that. The more searching I did on these, the greater lust I developed for them so uh watch out I guess.

EDIT: on further comparison, those are ABSOLUTELY Persols. Here's the meme which shows the temple screws which made me sure:

Ok on to more Crowley lewks!!

Except not exactly!

These are the (exact??) same style that Vincent Price wore in the 1967 "Tomb of Ligea" and I cannot tell if they are dupes or the actual glasses. I'm leaning toward dupes, since the sideshades appear slightly narrower on DT. But!! I would certainly not put it past the production team + David Tennant, Fellow Sunglass Addict to actually find the originals for this scene! He has the sunny disease and it makes us do things!

That's it for nowwwww, I'm gonna start digging to figure out what brands of standard glasses David's worn (because the Prada vibes are just vibes, I has no proof) but that's so much more difficult for obvious reasons so it could be a while 😎

[hikarry]

Do you wear the sunglasses all the time just because of Crowley and liking to look like a douchbag? Maybe you're taking method acting too far, sweetheart

You know, I saw your ask back when you originally sent it last month, but I was waiting to get out of the slump I was to actually answer you with a good dose of humor and a lil pat in the back

It so happened I saw your ask again today and it ticked the lil scratch in my brain that's squirming to be an absolute asshole

Will I regret answering this when I have my emotions in heat like a starved dog? Most probably. Worst case scenario, I delete this and we move on. You're just a lil guy asking another lil guy that has no weight over the world something dumb.

So, answering you directly: yes, but actually no

In the beginning it was a joke I had with some friends: Get the hair done, get the sunglasses, enjoy yourself.

Nice plan, solid plan. I liked the plan

I don't give a single fuck if people think I'm a douchebag or an asshole for wearing bloody sunglasses inside, for God's sake. What a stupid thing to fucking care about

So, I was just about to have some fun

And yet, it quickly stopped being fun

A week before getting the sunglasses I actually went to the Oftalmology to get my eyesight checked cause I hadn't been back in...oof...almost 8 years?

Exams were done. My eyesight was worst than before - well, yes, Spencer, no surprise. You haven't checked yourself in almost 10 years, what the absolute fuck did you expect you fucking idiot

And then, I was asked: How much do you suffer with headaches?

Bro, what a dumb question for a doctor to ask, eh? Headaches are headaches. Everyone has them often

Turns out, that's not actually normal, eh? Spencer boy has bloody cataracts.

Great

I mean

Sure

I can live with that

"Have you considered wearing sunglasses more often?"

Well, funny you say that, doc. Cause I have the perfect obsession to hide behind as an excuse to do exactly that

But wait wait wait

Spencer, sit down

"Dear boy, come here". I am a softy for people calling me dear, let me tell ya, and of course I approached the doctor. He showed me a thing. A thing he said "You're coming next month to make more exams. Be sure to be the first in line cause these might take a while. But, don't worry. Probably nothing serious. For better or for worse: keep your sunglasses nearby." about

Okay, cool. I mean, having cataracts is cool and all, but now I have to wait a month before opening Mystery Door #3? Unfair, doc, but alright

Ding dong. Spencer spent 8 hours running around followed by 2 doctors, being pushed into chairs and having greens and whites and reds and oranges into my bloody eyes like I was in a mad psychedelic trip

They didn't tell me SHIT

Doc was all smilies and "everything is absolutely okay" and patting my back when I said my head was hurting like God herself had been hitting my head for the past 8 hours with a full on tree with 0 mercy towards the poor

It's fine. Everything is okay

Until doc holds my arms and apologizes

"I can't do more. I'm gonna send you to another specialist that can actually take a look at it."

I'm sorry, babe. Didn't you just spend 8 bloody hours telling me repeatedly everything was okay? Eh? What? Did yall figure out I'm the new Virgin Mary and need a doctor to take a babe out of me in the next month or so?

The very nice young man that spent 8 torturous hours guiding me from exam to exam, looking in my eyes like no other lover has ever done before - and he was kinda cute too. Can't complain there - followed me like a bloody dog the whole time. He barely talked, and I was so exhausted I stopped caring

"If he doesn't have symptoms, I can't just send him to make an exam like that."

"Yes, but. He might not have symptoms now and start having them tomorrow. His brain is a ticking time bomb."

Now, don't get me wrong

I'm very flattered. My brain has been called many things through the years, but never something as badass as a ticking time bomb

The guy grabbed doc by the arm and took him outside the exam room. Shit is, you bloody idiots, I can fucking hear you

I'm walking my merry way into going blind, not fucking deaf, you fucking morons

The dude started fighting with my doctor because "it's a ticking time bomb"

Ticking time bomb

Ticking time bomb

Ticking time bomb

Those 3 fucking words have been playing jenga inside my veins for the past 3 hours

Right now, I'm sitting at a bar uptown - God bless the Irish Pubs Amen Lord - and I'm drinking a fantastic whiskey while I keep watching the guy whispering with the woman where you mark the appointments to make it quick. It's urgent. December is too late. Do something. It's too late

Now, you can be a dear and ask me: what is late, exactly?

I wish I had an answer. I don't. They gave me the papers and the exams and I threw them in my backpack and I've been reading Fahrenheit 431 in a dimlit pub trying to figure out how the absolute fuck am I going to get money to solve or check or cure or whatever the fuck can possibly be wrong with my brain

So yeah

Sunglasses? I need them or else I have very mean headaches and, apparently, as a safeguard for whatever is in my eye that's fucking my brain or vice versa

However, it's for Crowley. It began with Crowley. It began as a joke. As a bit of fun amongst friends. And I won't let whatever the fuck the ticking time bomb is gonna spoil my fucking fun with my fucking favorite character and fuck you if you think I'll let yall lil people with sand for brains drag me down for enjoying myself doing whatever the absolute fuck I want with this ticking time bomb as my new found background

Thank you, Crowley, for being the perfect scape goat. I never loved you more, my man

With all that said, my organism for some reason doesn't let me get drunk for as much as I try, so getting absolutely hammered isn't an option. So, I'll be around. Might take a small break to deal with whatever the fuck God decided to throw at me this time

None of you will notice I'm gone. My queue is fat and ready for harvest

Most probably none of you will even notice when I return, because I won't announce it like I'm the King of England returning from his Christmas Dinner. No one cares. I'm just a stupid guy that writes stupid gay shit and simps over a Scottish dude

But, baby boy, here's your answer. Enjoy it while it's up. I know myself, I know I will probably delete it when I come to it

So yeah, douchebag? Absolutely, my dear. Come and kiss me if you like it

[mygainyear2024]

Day 27 I ate a Dom Rodrigo and I liked it!

Today I had so many options. I really wanted to go find those flamingos in the Rio Formosa Lagoon, as it was beyond where I was headed today, to meet Esther in Vilamoura. I was excited to see Vilamoura, apparently a little more expensive to live than other places I've seen. Esther is one of four women who responded to my FB post earlier this year, seeking travellers / expats to catch up with. I've now met three of them (Crystal from the US, Rosie from Canada and Esther from South Africa), I'm not sure what's happened to the fourth!

I decided this morning it was a bit too ambitious to head out to Vilamoura at 10.30am, a one hour drive, catch up with Esther, then potentially drive another hour, then go on a flamingo hunt in an area that I'm not familiar with on my own. There were so many other options I'd thought about asking Esther’s opinion on instead.

Esther, like the waiter I'd met in the first week, left South Africa five years ago with her Portuguese husband and two children because of safety concerns. Esther mentioned her father had been murdered there, her mother had been attacked (she said luckily not raped), she had been involved in a car hijack and her husband I think an armed robbery, bloody hell, no wonder she's taken to liking cocktails, after 20 years of not drinking. They arrived and her husband became an Uber driver and then COVID hit and they were eating into their savings. He now does Uber driving and is a real estate agent, but that sounds very competitive here. Esther has started to do cleaning and gets paid €12 per hour. She was so surprised when I told her I pay $40 per hour and that's cheap in Australia. Esther mentions the more exclusive areas, where the footballers and other famous people live is not that far, in Quinta do Lago and Vale do Lobo. I was keen to visit.

After one coffee and a pastel de nata, then another coffee, I asked Esther if she wanted to join me wandering around the marina at Vilamoura. We were headed to lunch at an Indian restaurant she'd recommended but sadly it was closed. We ate pizza and drank a glass of wine instead and she was keen for me to try a cocktail, rattling off how yummy Sex on the Beach and a few others were. I think she assumed I might not have drunk cocktails before! She rang her husband for a bar recommendation and we ended up at an Irish Pub called Northwoods. It was pretty empty apart from five guys and a rather grumpy woman who said there'd be no cocktails until the real bartender arrived. We said we'd wait. We got talking to Stewart, from Glasgow I think. He moves between Scotland and Vilamoura. We then couldn't help but engage with the other four guys who were singing about three lines of some song quite loudly and badly. Well that then gave them licence to join us. Four pissed Scottish dudes from Fife, over for a few days of golf. It was like they'd never met an Australian woman in Portugal before, in fact they pretty much said so. They asked if I played golf! I said the game was a bit too boring for me and I got them quite worked up when I knowingly called the clubs "sticks"! They were all talking over each other to me, it was quite chaotic for a while. I challenged them to a push up competition, one dude took me on and lost! The one wearing my sunglasses in the picture below. Luckily they needed food and I declined their offer to join them for a Chinese buffet! They departed quoting from Crocodile Dundee about the knife!

I then carefully drove the one hour home, knowing that I'd be adding another degree of difficulty, driving at night! Stewart told me driving on the N125 was dangerous and I should take the toll road. I'll be checking out turning the tag on for the two remaining days I have the car. The Portuguese don't seem to obey roundabout etiquette and I've checked my understanding of what lane I'm supposed to be in to go straight. I now realise I've been driving in the overtaking lane, and I need to check that what I'm assuming is the give way sign onto a highway might be a merge sign!

I made it home! Cooked myself a late dinner and ate the Dom Rodrigo I purchased in Lagos yesterday. It's interesting the woman at Casa da Isabel didn't think I'd like it, but it tastes pretty good, like a much softer baklava. It's a local sweet made with egg strands, ovos moles, almond kernels, sugar and cinnamon, having been served throughout its history in three different ways. The first was in the form of a candy, the second was served in a porcelain bowl, so it could be eaten with a spoon and the third is served wrapped in coloured aluminium foil, in order to draw more attention to it, but still needs to be eaten with a spoon!

In case anyone is curious about my Netflix, I've moved from Baby Reindeer (what a head fuck that series was) to Nyad (great movie) and now about to watch Derry Girls! It’s ok Leigh Sales has only just started watching it too!

[shadowycreatormentality]

Black Air and Black Black Lungs

Chapter 7: Never love an anchor

"I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel. I am all the things they might have said to you"

Satoru Gojo is not one who loves easily. Heck, he hasn't even loved anyone else except for him.

He hates himself for it. How can he be a good teacher and mentor if he can't love?

No, he would definitely not call himself a father. After all the things he has done, he could never care for a kid in that way.

Many people think Hideyo, Tsumiki and Megumi are his children, they are not. Those three are merely his wards, kids who needed someone to protect them from the leeches that are those disgusting clans of theirs.

They deserve a somewhat normal childhood, and that's what he gave them. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Sensei? You're staring." The pink haired boy said while waving his hand over his mentor's eyes.

"I was? Sorry about that, Yuji. Come on, let's start sparring again." Satoru said while taking off the pitch black sunglasses he wears to reveal his blindingly blue eyes.

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

Hideyo though would like to think differently though. To them, Satoru Gojo is the Moon to their Earth. He is that constant presence that makes their existence complete.

It's his technique and fighting style they always are inspired by.

It's because of him that they were made the heir of the Kurosawa clan and not be subjected to that.

They felt a shiver running down their spine as they thought of what would happen if it weren't for Satoru.

Suddenly memories began flooding back of a bloodied body of a young boy with his bright blue and red eyes staring right in their direction.

They began hearing screams, their screams. A younger version of themselves fighting back against the hold of an older man. Then that man began feeding them something that made their vision blurry .

They then felt something rise up their stomach to their throat. Hideyo then felt themselves puke.

Hideyo finally was brought back to reality when a hand was placed on their shoulder.

They flinched before a familiar voice rang through their ears, "Easy there, kiddo. I ain't gonna hurt you."

"G-Gojo-sensei? What are you doing here?" Hideyo asked while wiping their mouth with a napkin Satoru handed to them.

"I just thought of surprising you guys. Plus, seeing Utahime annoyed is always a nice sight. You okay there? You're not one to easily get sick." Satoru answered before ruffling Hideyo's hair with a gentle look in his eyes.

Hideyo chuckled at the gesture before noticing the lack of sunglasses covering Satoru's eyes, "Not wearing your glasses, huh? That's a rare occasion." Hideyo pointed out before resting their head on their sensei's chest. "Missed you, sensei."

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere Rei hurting reader Pt 3

I couldn't write anything for Valentines, but I hope you like this. Enjoy!

Pt 1 here.

Pt 2 here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Enji wasn’t surprised at your funeral.

He wasn't surprised when Rei had begged him to have you frozen, keep your body encased in a glass box at home.

He wasn't surprised when the kids held her, letting him make proper funeral arrangements.

He wasn't surprised when Rei had a breakdown, punching his chest and thrashing around in Shotou's and Dabi's arms.

Enji wasnt surprised when the divorce papers came. He knew the kids were making her do this, but he didn't care. He signed them without hesitation.

He wasn't surprised when he heard the kids had sent Rei to an asylum. She kept escaping the house to run to the graveyard; she wanted to dig your body up. He understood why the kids sent her back.

He wasn't surprised when he heard Rei had killed herself in that place, 6 months after you had died.

He wasn't surprised when his kids didn't inform him of her death or funeral. If he was being honest, he wasn't even sure if he would've gone to pay his respects.

Enji poured himself another glass of vodka, taking the bottle with him as he sat on his recliner, almost tripping on a few empty bottles.

He wasn't an alcoholic, he was just trying to numb his pain. Its the only thing that helps him fall asleep.

Enji pulled out a cigarette and pushed it between his lips. He snapped his fingers to light it, closing his eyes as he inhaled the carcinogen.

"Again, dad?"

Enji didn't have to open his eyes to know its you.

"You know these things are not good for you."

Enji smiled. You were always so caring.

"Ah, so you do smile? I didn't think you were capable of doing that."

Enji opened his eyes. You were standing in front of him, a grin on your face.

"I smiled a lot more when you were around." Enji said.

You chuckled. "Me too." You sat next to him, before putting your head in his lap. "But you weren't around often."

Enji felt tears prick his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I know."

Enji woke up the next morning with a massive headache. He went to his kitchen to get himself some coffee. He checked the calendar as he sipped the hot drink.

Friday.

He finished his coffee quickly, before wearing a large coat. He grabbed his car keys and drove away from his house.

When he reached the graveyard, he made sure to wear his sunglasses and a baseball cap, before grabbing the bouquet of white lillies.

Your grave was a little away from the rest, he wanted you to have space, and his family to have privacy when they visited.

He stood in front of your grave. It was clean and the bed of grass of fresh as ever. He had paid the caretaker good money to regularly clean up your resting place.

Enji stared at your tombstone for some time.

Y/n Todoroki.

Heaven's brightest angel

A loving daughter

Now resting safe and at peace

Tears fell free from Enji's eyes at that. "Safe and at peace". Safe and at peace. Two things he failed to give you.

The image of your bloody face flashed in his mind for a moment. Blood coated your teeth and mouth, your gut was also bleeding heavily. Your face was contorted in pain, confusion and betra-

Enji needs to stop thinking.

He sat down beside your grave and pulled out the flask from his coat pocket. He knows he has to drive back. He knows he shouldn't drink, not in front of you at least, but he can't help it. "I'm sorry." Enji whispers before he started drinking. It didn't take long for him to finish the entire flask. It was getting dark and he knew he had to leave before the caretaker came.

Enji pressed a kiss to your tombstone before he turned on his heel to leave.

"Endeavour?"

Enji was stunned to hear his hero name; nobody had called him that in a long time. God, he wished it wasn't the paparazzi. They had no respect for anyone, not even for the grieving or the dead.

But he looked up to see an old face.

"Keigo?"

Hawks smiled. "How are you?"

"Fine. What are you doing here?"

He scratched the back of his head nervously. "I've been meaning to talk to you." Hawks sighed. "I tried contacting you several times but you're impossible to track."

Enji knew that. He disappeared from the public eye after your death. He left his agency to Hawks, and got himself a home hidden in the woods. People assumed that he was just distraught over his wife's death or something. They didn't know about you. Nobody did. He paid off the hospital staff to keep their mouth shut because he didn't want his kids to suffer anymore because of his mistakes.

"What do you want?" Enji asked, gruffly.

"I just wanted to talk to you. Check up on you, y'know?"

"I'm doing great." Enji replied, stepping around him, about to walk away, but Hawks put a hand on his shoulder.

"Enji, its not your fault-"

"Shut up." Enji walked past him and made his way towards his car.

"Enji, listen to me-"

"I said. Shut. Up." He growled out. He didn't need anyone's pity. He reached his car with Hawks running up to him.

Enji tried to open his door but he suddenly felt lightheaded as he fell down.

"Enji! Are you okay?" Hawks kneeled beside him.

"I'm f-fine. Leave me alone." Enji was slurring.

Hawks grimaced when he smelled his breath. "God, you reek of alcohol. You weren't planning on driving in this state?"

Enji pushed him away. "I said I'm fine." Enji stood up before stumbling towards his car again, fumbling with the keys, his vision blurring the more he strained himself.

"Let me take you home, Enji." Enji felt his hands on his shoulder, but just as he tried to tell Hawks to fuck off, his vision faded to black.

Enji opens his eyes and finds himself in his house again. His old house. He's laying in bed when he hears laughter from outside. He gets out of bed and walks towards the source.

The kitchen.

He walks in and sees his family, the sun rays flooding the room, and the golden orange hues illuminating their faces. Rei is mixing something in a large bowl, Fuyumi is greasing up some pans. Natsuo and Touya are eating the chocolate chips from the bag, and Shotou is telling them to save some for the cake. And you. You're there too. Sitting beside Shotou, laughing as Touya sneakily gives you some chocolate chips too. Suddenly, they all turn towards him. Rei motions for him to come in. "Enji! Come in. We're making a cake!" Enji walks towards her, wrapping his arms around her. Rei kisses him, making his kids cringe and tell them to stop. They all laugh. Rei pours the batter into the pans, before raising the spoon. "Okay, who wants to lick the spoon?" And suddenly Touya, Natsuo and you yell "me!" before trying to reach for the spoon. Shotou freezes Natsuo's foot to the floor, while Enji pulls Touya back. Fuyumi grabs the spoon from her mom, and gives it to you, making you smile as you eagerly lick the spatula clean, while Touya and Natsuo whine how its not fair. Everyone laughs as Rei cleans up the batter smeared on your nose with a tissue. Its a heart warming scene. Its all he ever wanted.

But its not the reality he was given now, was it?

As Enji closes his eyes, basking in the warmth of his family, he suddenly hears someone crying. He snaps his eyes open, but the kitchen is empty and dark. He hears the crying again. He gets out of the kitchen quickly, trying to find the source. Its coming from Fuyumi's room. He bursts through the door, looking for Fuyumi, but finds you there instead. You're on the floor whimpering as you're trying to rub your arm with a towel. He kneels next to you. "What's wrong?" You cry when you remove the towel to reveal the huge ice burn on your arm. There were ice crystals littering all over the skin. Enji begins to heat up his palms as he melts the ice downs, slowly allowing the sensation in your arm to return. "What happened?" You sniffled. "F-fuyumi came to my room and said that she wants to go shopping with me, I told her I had to study for my test." You hiccuped. "She didn't like that, she- she said I'm ignoring her, blowing her off- I'm not!" You cried. Enji focused on your arm, heating it up slowly. "I know, you didn't do it on purpose. But maybe you could take some time off school? Think of it as a little break. You could spend more time with Fuyumi, with us." You looked at him in confusion. "B-but she hurt me-" "no, she was just a bit frustrated. You know she didn't mean it, right? She's your big sister, she loves you." You hesitantly nodded. "If you say so..." Enji smiled. "See, its all better now. Let me heat up the towel and wrap it around your arm." He turned to get the towel, but when he turned back, the room was empty.

He heard quiet sobs coming from your room. He made his way to your room and opened door and found you lying on the bed. "What happened?" He asked, taking a seat on your bed. "I saw him, I saw Natsuo put crushed pills- sleeping pills in my food! That's why I've been feeling so sleepy lately. When I confronted him, he told me its for my own good. B-but I know its because he doesn't want me to go out with my friends! He forcefully fed me the food, and then he took my phone away too! He said its because its not good to sleep with your phone but I know he took it because he wants to go through my stuff!" Enji hushed you. "Can you talk to him? Tell him to stop or something." Enji raised an eyebrow. "Natsuo is your big brother. He's just looking out for you. And he's not wrong about going through your phone either. Do you have something to hide?" You shook your head no. "But-!" "Natsuo wouldn't do anything to cause you pain, okay?" You closed your eyes. "Okay." You whispered. Enji closed the door as he left your room. But as soon as he did, he heard banging coming from the basement. He rushed down the stairs and found the door locked. Bursting through the door, he was suddenly engulfed by a small body. It was you again. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, help me!" Enji pulled you away from him. "Hey, shh. Its okay. I'm here. What happened?" You sobbed into his chest. "I just went to the grocery store- just for 20 minutes!" Enji already knew what went wrong. "You didn't go with Shotou, did you? You didn't even inform him, right?" You shook your head no. "It slipped my mind. I promise I wasn't running away!" Enji sighed, petting your hair. "How long have you been down here?" You sniffled. "I dont know. It was Wednesday when Shotou pushed me in here." Three days. "Its okay. You've learnt your lesson, right?" You nodded. "Please, I don't want to be down here anymore." Enji led you out of the basement. "Just don't forget to tell Shotou next time, or tell us what you need. We'll bring whatever you want." Enji closed the basement door, but suddenly someone whimpered from inside. He opened the door again, but he found himself in the main bathroom. You were standing in front of the sink, putting some ointment on your shoulder. Enji looked closer and found burn marks on your skin. "Did Touya-" You turned around towards him. "Yes." Enji couldn't take his eyes off the red, burnt skin. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "Does it matter?" You slammed the door shut in his face.

Enji didn't even realise he had begun walking away from the door and towards another one. He instinctively opened the door and found Rei and you. Rei had her arms raised, a sharp knife in her hand. "Rei- what are you doing? Put the knife down!" Suddenly, the rest of his kids appeared in the room. They stood between Rei and him, like a barrier. "Honey, its okay! We know whats best for her!" Rei spoke. Shotou nodded. "Yes. You said so yourself." Fuyumi spoke this time. "We're her family! We wouldn't hurt her!" Touya walked towards Enji. "Besides, if something happens, you promised you would save her, won't you?" Enji nodded. "Of course." "Then trust us. Like you always have." Natsuo said. Enji's eyes moved towards you. You opened your mouth to say something but all of a sudden, Enji was pushed out of the room and the door slammed closed. Enji jumped to the door when he heard your painful, gut wrenching screams. "DAD! STOP THEM! HELP ME! DAD!" Enji kept on banging his fists on the door but the door wouldn't budge.

Then it was silent. All too quiet. The door creaked open a bit. Enji didn't know if he wanted to see whats behind there anymore, but he still pushed the door open. How he wish he hadn't.

Lying on the floor, blood spilled from your mouth and your gut. Your body bore burns and scorch marks, the smell of burnt flesh wafting through the air. Enji fell to his knees. Its too late. "D-daddy? It- hurts."your voice was so quiet, so soft, he almost didn't hear you. "Save me?"you coughed out more blood, with each word. Enji started crying. "I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I-I can't." Your eyes dimmed when he said that, your chest finally stopped moving.

Enji finally woke up from his recurrent nightmare. He had been haunted by them ever since your death. Sad thing is, they didn't stray that far from reality. You had come to him many times, begging for help, but he turned you away, assuring you that they're just messing around, that it was an accident, or it was just a one time thing.

It wasn't.

Enji couldn't count how many times you had told him how his family had been hurting you, before you stopped asking all together when you realised he would always take their side.

It took a few minutes for Enji to register that he wasn't lying in his bed, or was in his home for that matter.

Enji groans as he sits up, rubbing his head. He remembers he was at the graveyard and then Hawks was there too. Hawks must've brought him to his home.

Stupid bird. He should just mind his own business.

Enji got up and left the room, leaning against the wall for support as he made his way around the house. Where was Keigo anyways?

He was passing by a garden when he saw someone move there. Enji focused his eyes and saw...you. He sighed. Enji sat down on the porch that opened into the garden. He realised he must've had drank a lot yesterday. Clearly, the effects of intoxication were still there.

You were sitting next to some bushes, trimming up their rough edges, your face turned away from him. You were humming to yourself as you worked.

You always did like plants, flowers especially. That's why he made sure you were buried where there was enough space for some flowers and grass to grow.

"I see you've found her." Hawks handed Enji a cup of coffee. He didn't even realise when he had walked-

Wait.

"You can see her?" Enji asked. Was he still dreaming?

Hawks chuckled. "Of course. She's right there- Enji, did you drink again?"

Enji looked at you, then at Hawks, then back to you. "What?" There's no way. There's no way. Hawks looked at Enji weirdly before he called for you.

"Y/n! Sweetie, come here!" You whipped your head around at Hawks voice.

And Enji sees you.

He wasn't hallucinating. You're real.

You skipped towards them, smiling. And Enji didn't even realise it until you were right in front of them. You had eyes. They were different than your real ones. These new ones, they were the same colour as his. Sharp, turquoise blue.

Were you a doppelganger? Is this some kind of sick joke? He couldn't help but wonder, but some part of him knew that wasn't the case.

Enji stood up when you reached them, the cup falling from his hand.

"Hey, dad."

In a second, Enji had his arms wrapped around you. You're really there. You weren't dead. You're still alive. "Y/n? Is it really you?" Enji asked, tears falling from his eyes as he held you tighter, still in disbelief.

You hugged him back. "Yes. Who else would it be?" You chuckled.

He pulled you away from him, his eyes scanned your face. There was still some charring and faded scars around your eyes, but they were mostly healed. It really is you.

"B-but how?"

You smiled. "Hawks-"

It was like something snapped in him at the hero's name.

Enji suddenly pushed you behind him, taking a protective stance. "What the fuck did you do?!" He growled at Keigo.

Hawks held his arms up in surrender, trying to pacify the man in front of him. "Nothing. I just helped her." Enji pounced at Hawks, pushing him to the ground. He was going to murder Hawks if he even looked at you the wrong way. "Oh yeah? And what the fuck did you want in return, you sick bastard?!" Enji raised his hand to punch him, but he stopped when he felt your tiny hands pull on his arm. "Dad! Please, stop! He saved me! Please!" He could hear the fear in your voice. He got off Hawks and yanked you back to him. "Tell me. Did he threaten you? Harm you? Touch you?" Although Enji's eyes held concern for you, he was scaring you with his grip on your wrist turning painfully tight. "No! Please, stop." You replied, struggling as you tried to free your wrist.

"Enji, calm the fuck down! You're hurting her!" Hawks finally managed to pull his hand off of your wrist. As soon as he did, Enji saw his handprint around your wrist.

Fuck.

You moved behind Hawks, peeking at Enji from between his wings, your eyes pooling with unshed tears. Enji's heart sank.

Looking at your scared form, Enji couldn't help but recall how different it used to be before. How you used to run to him for help, seek his protection.

And now, you need to be saved from him.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean to." He reached his hand out for yours. When you moved further behind Hawks, his heart broke. You were scared of him. Your eyes holding the same fear as they once held for the rest of his family.

"Y/n, darling, why don't you go tend to the bushes. I need to talk to your father." You scurried away as soon as Hawks said that.

"She's scared of me." Enji's voice held guilt.

Hawks patted his back. "Don't worry. She'll come around soon."

Hawks sat on the porch step, motioning Enji to sit beside him as well. He sat but kept his eyes towards your form. "What happened, Keigo?"

"Well, when you had called me, informing me how Rei had stabbed Y/n, I came as quickly as possible. I remember you were holding Rei back, stopping her from entering the hospital room. Once your kids had arrived and taken their mother away, you told me to keep guard while you sorted out some hospital forms." Hawks took a sip of his coffee before continuing. "Y/n had woken up a few minutes after you had left. And she started crying as soon as she was conscious. I tried calming her down, but she was- hysterical. She kept on saying how they were going to torture her again. I told her that Enji would make sure they wouldn't. She kept on insisting that you were going to take Rei's side." Hawks looked at Enji. "And you and I both know know, you would've." Enji held his head shamefully, because he was right. He would've taken his family's side yet again.

"She asked me to kill her, Enji."

Enji's eyes widened at that, turning his head to Hawks. "What?" Hawks nodded, his eyes stone cold. "She said she'd rather be dead than return to your house." Enji felt like someone had drove a spear through his chest. Oh god, how long had you been feeling like that? "Thats when I decided to take her."

"But how? We buried her." Hawks rolled his eyes.

"It isn't hard to find a body. You know that."

Enji nodded. Right. "And her eyes?"

"Got a quirk doctor to replace them."

Enji's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But Natsuo said that they were irreplaceable-"

"Natsuo lied, Enji. All of your kids did. They were going to side with their mother, no matter what. And Rei wanted her to remain blind, so everyone made sure she did." He took another sip of his coffee. "You have a fucked up family."

Enji clenched his jaw at that, but it was the truth. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Hawks raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "You're hard to track. You went into hiding and I had to run your agency, clean up your mess so that the public doesn't find out and I had a daughter at home to look after too. I guess you could say, I was a bit occupied."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Enji looked towards where you were, happily tending to your garden, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You looked so lively, so content. "Is...is she happy?" Hawks smiled at that. He still adores you. "Yes. She stays at home mostly, tending to the garden, but she occasionally goes out as well."

Enji looked at Hawks. "Alone? What if she runs away? What if something happens to her?"

Hawks shook his head. "She won't. Where's she going to go? She knows that your kids are still out there, and if they ever saw her, God knows what they'll do to her." Hawks crossed his arms against his chest. "Besides, I gave her a special bracelet. It has a tracking device in it and if she ever runs into trouble, all she needs to do is tap it and I'll be there!"

Hawks really had it all figured it out. Everything was under control, so why was he there? "Why did you bring me?"

"To save you." Enji stared at him in confusion. "You can't live without her, Enji. The past few months are evidence that you can't. You almost drank yourself to death." Hawks ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Look at yourself. Your eyes are bloodshot, you drink, you smoke, you're depressed as fuck. Is this the kind of hero you imagined yourself becoming? Is this the kind of father you want to be?"

"Keigo I-"

"You know, she never spoke ill of you once. Never. If anything, she told me that her good memories with your family, were mostly with you. Almost like she misses you."

"What do you want me to do, Keigo?" He asked helplessly, because Enji truly didn't know.

"I want you to stay here." He began. "Be the hero she needs; the father she needs."

"Keep your promise to her." Hawks eyes were full with fierce emotion as he reminded Enji of his promise.

I'll keep you safe. I promise.

Those word had been echoing in his mind forever, always accompanied by gore filled images of you.

"Raise the family you always dreamt of."

As if something had finally clicked, Enji nodded before he slowly made his way towards you. Hawks watched as Enji sat down beside you and talked to you. You smiled slowly before handing him a pair of gardening gloves as you taught him how to plant some flowers.

It was a good thing that Hawks cared about both of you deeply.

He was happy he was going to save his hero, Endeavour.

He was happy that he was going to start anew with you guys.

He was happy as he saw the love of his life and his goddaughter, now daughter, playing in the mud.

He was beyond ecstatic when he had slit Rei's throat in the asylum.

"What?" Hawks asks you, the person reading this story. He leans towards you, face mere inches away from yours, and smirks.

"That bitch had it coming."

So...

How was it?

Oh and yes, I will be taking asks for this (and answering some previous ones as well)

[bestialchorus]

Dating Bloody Mary would include:

-Life had been difficult for a bit. You remember crying in your room that night as a thunderstorm brewed outside. The faintest touch against your cheek pulls you from your misery. You should have been terrified when you first saw her, considering a stranger had suddenly appeared in your room out of nowhere….but with how tired you were, you were more confused if anything. Looking back at you was a woman who was as beautiful as her eyes were eerie. A quiet moment passes as she mentally ponders whether she should move her hand or not, eventually deciding to break the silence. Her voice comes out low, with a bit of a grit to it, “You’ve…been crying a lot lately…just wanted to see if you’re okay.”- she almost finishes with a whisper and ever since that night your life has never been the same.

-Regardless of where you are she’s only a mirror away. This especially helps in the moments when you need her- all you need to do is find a mirror and call for her and she happily appears (though probably best in private, not too many people react well to a person suddenly coming out of a public bathroom mirror).

-Her being an incredible listener. You both can cuddle for hours. You feel safe in her arms as she listens about your day while playing with your hair.

-You’re used to waking up with a lipstick mark on your bathroom mirror in the morning with a sweet message. She has also suddenly appeared to give you a quick peck on the lips whenever you use a mirror to check if you should fix your appearance, which surprises you at first but you quickly find a way to turn tables on her….ultimately, by cupping her face and kissing her first which always brings a deep blush to your girlfriend’s face, sometimes she instances disappears from being overwhelmed.

-Her having to wear either coloured contacts or sunglasses whenever you hang around your friends and family as a couple (you’re not quite sure how youll be able to explain your girlfriend’s eyes are in fact black and void-like….)

-Having your photo as her phone background to mimic the whole “keeping a picture of your beloved in your locket”.

-Being the only person who gets to see her “haunted” form and live afterwards. In fact, you remind her that regardless of how she looks, she’s still beautiful in your eyes (which admittedly makes her teary-eyed for several reasons)…..and perhaps you cant help but be slightly attracted to it (hey, people like what they like). Her alternative form consists of bloody tears running down her face, sharp fangs, elongated body (covered in scarification) and claws, with an equally long forked tongue. She is truly a terrifying sight if you’re not expecting it….and yet, the first night she showed you her “true face” it eventually led to both of you intertwined in your bed.

-Introducing her to all of the simple pleasures associated with your modern time; movie theatres, rollerskating, theme parks, etc. She also surprisingly ends up being a big fan of arcade dates- something about the colourful light and the child-like atmosphere that brings a twinkle to her dark eyes.

-An old-fashioned lover who will court you at a steady and patient pace. 

-The kind of girlfriend who will get lost in lovingly gazing at you and when you ask her if there’s something on your face, she’ll gently grab your face and start kissing you (that seems to get her message across).

-Her eventually opening up to you about how she became the “monster” she is. Much like you, she was once a normal girl….. unfortunately, she was sacrificed by her extremely religious town after someone caught her kissing another girl. Even worst, said girl insisted she had “jumped her”, when in reality it was far from this (but even now she doesnt blame the girl, it truly was a life or death situation). You tightly hold her as she explains her dark origins.

-Eventually finding out how impressive her forked tongue really is.

-Her writing you poetry about how you make her feel and leaving you surprised love notes in your lunches. Her poetry has heavy religious overtones and she often calls you “her salvation”.

[mywitheredloveslastforever]

Rosemary and Laura were enjoying themselves on a late afternoon out in Camden. They'd just come back from an MP, former Eton choir boy, who'd wanted his garden to be filled with statues of the David of Michelangelo. His wife looked on awkwardly. We didn't want to break the news to her, and we don't believe we needed to. He'd asked poor Rosemary about whether his purse fit with the leather on his outdoor chairs, and how it would coordinate with the roses. We told him that with the right soil, any colour will spark against these healthy additions to his admittedly very well kept garden. We'd advised him on the purple roses and rhododendron he wanted in his garden, and had spent the entire day digging around, investigating the ground, and Rosemary had gone to the garden centre, during peak hours. At the end of the day they sat down a terrace, and sighed in relief. Rosemary looked at Laura, and for a moment she smiled, then shook her head. The terrace seemed a bit empty, but there was another woman sitting there, with her back towards us, and a huge sleeping poodle besides her. She was wearing this enormous white straw hat, with a black ribbon. She wore a pantsuit with refined striped, and judging from her hands, she seemed about our age. What a character, Laura thought. They ordered a coffee and a wine and enjoyed the Sun, as they threw glances at the plans for their garden, but had to stop each other from looking. "Rosemary, stop it. We've been working on it since 7 o'clock this morning, you deserve a break. It is on me, you've done absolutely terrific. You'll get to pay petrol though, getting through traffic was awful, and I think I had two hippie climate activists look at your car in disgust." The waiter came with the drinks they'd ordered, and the women thanked him.

"Children, how can they not appreciate such beauty?"

"Tasteless, of course, but I need some emotional compensation now. It almost felt personal."

"They must not have seen the driver, then they would've known there was an expert working."

"Well, I've gotten better at driving your car. I suppose that was a gift on its own, getting to drive your baby through London. After all of these years, you're really starting to trust me." Laura winked at Rosemary.

"Oh come on!" Rosemary laughed. "I trusted you since day one." She laughed so hard she spilled a bit on her blouse. "Bloody- Well, first time in a while we've seen a red spattered blouse and it being wine instead of blood. I'm going to fetch a tissue."

Rosemary stood up and the dog reacted, she waved at the dog as its owner looked up to look her straight in the eyes. "Well, Bernie, look at that friendly wo- Rosemary?"

Rosemary turned pale. The woman's expression turned from a friendly expression to what Laura could only describe as a haughty one. "Clare!" She said. "How have you been? I haven't seen you in ages! You look great. Love the hat, very stylish. And what a lovely dog you've got there." She seemed to want to approach it friendly, an emotion Laura not seen combined with such a nervousness in her before. She was usually so confident when meeting old friends, and Rosemary seemed to have many of those.

"Rosemary, Rosemary. That out of all people you must be the one I encounter on my holiday with my husband."

"What a coincidence." Rosemary said, awkwardly looking at the stain on her blouse.

"Well, look who's only gotten poutier and less subtle over the years! You've finally got the looks to match your attitude." The mystery woman called Clare said as she lowered her sunglasses. Laura felt that his was not going to be a very joyful rendezvous. Rosemary sat back down, trying to hide the stain, as Laura shoved her tissue underneath the table, feeling Rosemary grip over it, briefly touching her hand. Like there wasn't enough tension in the air already, Laura thought. "I hear you scissor bushes now. Not a far stretch from whatever you used to get up to down in Bristol. Trying to seem more understated and common with your car choice, I see." She snickered as she sipped her wine and gestured at the car that she'd probably seen Laura get out of. "See this ring? My husband, Paul, got it for me on our twentieth wedding anniversary. My lovely son Marcus even got my old ring all polished up for me, so now I wear two. Did you have any children, Rose?"

Rosemary turned red, her eyes narrowed as she pointed at the lady. "You... You..." Laura noticed that the hand she'd had on her mouth was now resting on Rosemary's lap, which she quickly retracted when Rosemary turned around. After all, that would've been awkward, had her hand been on her- Well, not as awkward as this whole ordeal. Who is this woman? Rosemary looked at Laura briefly, and there seemed to be an air of relief, but also a sense of inhibition. She breathed in hastily, and tried to put on her lecturer voice, putting her glasses on top of her head as she put on a fake smile. The fact that she was trying to look composed but was still shaking, didn't really help her case, Laura thought, but in that moment she really admired Rosemary's strength more. "It surprises me, Clare, that you've been able to apply your bush skills on trees so well that your man still spoils you after twenty years. Hopefully this has been a more successful experiment, and you've not just turned into the box filled with decorations he can use to make himself look brighter every appearance. I heard he's done well for himself, sometimes I can almost see him wanting to thank you. But usually he looks like he just needs to." Oof. Okay, so Laura thought, these women definitely don't like each other. At all. Stark observation, Laura, she thought to herself. But what is all this talk about bushes and trees? And what on Earth could it have been that has made a woman like Rosemary, who can be very fiery, very feisty, but doesn't appear resentful at all, still so angry at this woman I have never seen before, in all those years we've spent practically attached to the hip? Briefly she started reminiscing about the joy that has brought her, but then she composed herself, she had to stay locked in. Maybe interfere. But first, and it happened before she really grasped it, the following words came out of her mouth: "Well then, tea's done. What is going on here?"

Clare looked her up and down. "I could ask you the same, Rosemary. You're not still in that phase of your life are you? Your taste is like a supermarket wine, Rosemary, and you always drink it alone."

Rosemary stood up, still pointing her finger: "Don't you dare talk about Laura like that! She is more sophisticated, lovely, beautiful, and sensual than you ever were or even I ever will be. And bitch, don't even try to compare her to any less than the finest champagne. And at least I like to only drink from one glass at a time, those rumours existed far beyond me, out of those five years we were only together for one. Yes, I don't like going back to Bristol, yes, I should've locked the doors, yes, I should have probably told you it was irresponsible to want to get it down the shed of a church. Yes, I am sorry that twenty years down the line it is still awkward for us to go back. But the reason they heard us is because you were enjoying yourself and you look like you've not had any other positive emotion other than smugness on your face since the day I last saw you." Clare gasped.

Apparently, Clare had the most elaborately toilet visiting husband ever, because when he finally came back from inside, he asked "Babybell blue Clary of mine, what is the matter? Who are these people?"

Laura leaned in, starting to get it: "Seems like you are not too fast for the first time in your life, Mr. Clare!" Laura put the money on the table as she waved to the waiter. "The view was absolutely lovely, sir, but I am afraid we must go. Thank you, great coffee, by the way. Lovely spot. Would absolutely come back. Chairs were great." She walked up to Rosemary, grabbed her by the arm, and in her angry state, made sure she did not forget her purse and her coat. "Here."

"Lesbians!" Clare yelled in a last attempt of hurt.

"AND HOW WOULD YOU KNOW, MEAN COW?" Laura yelled back. "Bugger off!"

They got in the car, Laura was allowed to drive again, because no way was she going to let Rosemary drive in this state. They were two blocks away from the incident, when she noticed that Rosemary was crying. She shook her head. "Laura, you know. That time was awful for the both of us. I know what just went down was horrid, but it really was bad back then. You could feel it in the air, that people just knew. Oh I was so stubborn, there was a guy that liked her and I thought, if I loved her enough, made love to her enough, we could see it through. I went to Oxford eventually, she went to Brighton University, ironically, and we never saw each other again. It was, Laura, it was really bad. It surprised me myself that I went there to teach, and it surprised me even more that I went to teach her son for a bit. He's not a bad kid, Laura. We were teens, Laura, just teens. It is- But I know she hated me for going back there. She must've. There was no love behind her eyes just then. Those streets, Laura, we felt eyes on our backs wherever we went. It traumatized us both. I'm sorry you had to see me this way."

"Rosemary, what I saw were two hurt women. Back when I was in the force, I'd seen women who'd done much worse to each other over love. This was pretty brutal already, I must admit, and I'd never been that close up with the action, usually dealt with the filing of complaints afterwards, but you defended yourself. You are so strong, Rosemary, and I could tell you didn't want this to happen. Here." She pulled a licorice package out of her purse. "Different flavours. Go on."

"Too soon!" Rosemary laughed as she cried.

"What? The different flavours bit?" Laura laughed along with her.

"Maybe." Rosemary grabbed the bag from Laura's hand and put one in her mouth. She started laughing again. "But I really could not insult her dog. That dog looked adorable."

Laura teased her: "You like posh dogs?"

Rosemary teased herself back, it seemed. "Can't change your colours. I feel so... Awkward, Laura. I don't usually feel this way. I've not felt this way in a long time, not since I met you."

"What you have to feel awkward about? Except for maybe that wine stain, but I'm sure we'll find a solution for that."

"I feel awkward about... Well, you must've noticed that Clare was a woman."

"I only saw a bitch most of the time." Laura said louder than she intended, but probably the right amount of loud.

"Laura!" She bumped into Laura's shoulder. "Shush it. No. I mean it, seriously."

"Yeah, Clare's a woman."

"I don't feel bad about having felt that way for a woman, Laura." Rosemary looked straight at her and Laura felt butterflies, she even caught herself having tingling fingers from the nerves she suddenly felt.

"And I hope you never will again." Laura said as she put her hand on hers. "You are my best friend, and I will never forgive myself if I am something that makes you less likely to accept yourself. But then what does make you feel bad, or awkward?"

"I never told you before. It wasn't anything deliberate, I think. Oh Laura, I don't even know for sure. I don't know why I've kept it a secret, I don't know why I didn't just tell you when I kept telling myself that this part of me doesn't matter, when we know so much about each another."

"It matters to me as a part of you, Rosemary, and I- Well, you know I think you are fabulous indeed. Why would this change anything?" Laura sighed and thought to herself, maybe this does change things. Not in the way she views Rosemary, but maybe in the way she dares to view herself with Rosemary.

Rosemary said: "So that officer was sort of right."

"About us?" Laura said.

"No silly, about me." Rosemary put her hand on Laura's shoulder.

Laura breathed in. "Why not about us?"

Some Rosemary and Thyme fic ideas I won't use, for public use:

(fair warning my ideas can be wildly disjointed)

Rosemary leaves Laura a note that says "Be back soon, love Rosemary." What if Laura keeps it? she doesn't fully know why, it just gives her a happy sort of thrill, so tucks it a way in her sock drawer at home. Then one day, Rosemary is out of socks and decides to borrow a pair of Laura's and finds the note. And she wonders why Laura would still have that? why would she keep a meaningless note? be back soon doesn't mean much, but "Love Rosemary" could mean a good deal more to her, couldn't it? and she wonders about that, and wonders and wonders and wonders until she's distracted by it nearly every minute and now she can't get a moment's peace. I don't know where this one goes.

2. that bit where laura thinks rosemary is dead and goes to tell her mum and Rosemary shows up in a bathrobe and Laura goes "Rosemary!" and we don't get much of a reaction. They probably hug, and Laura cries, and probably keeps touching her to remind herself rosemary is there. And then… what if she wakes up in the middle of the night and goes to check if Rosemary is still there and it turns into an only one bed fic because of course, Rosemary is like "why don't you just stay"

3. Your standard, we got drunk, woke up, and oh damn, are those rings on our fingers? fic

4. drunk flirting

5. drunk sleeping together?

6. one of them arrives first to a job. The client has gotten confused and called them by the other's last name. He's such a poor old thing that they don't want to correct him. Little do they know, he thinks they're married. "Mrs" Thyme, etc. And when they try and protest, the client doesn't take no for an answer and now everyone thinks they're together. and maybe whichever one it is kind of likes the assumption. likes people assuming they belong together. Likes as the suitor's backing off the other one when she arrives, because they think she's taken. and then you know, feelings realization.

7. Season 2 the Gongoozlers

Rosemary breaks her leg and Laura goes to the hospital to see her. the nurse (?) asks if she's a relative. And Laura, fearing she won't be let in if she isn't a relative, tells them she's her wife. She still can't go in because they're busy operating but the son of the family at the place they're working overhears (he's a porter at the hospital) and mentions it to the fam and pretty soon the entire film set thinks they're married or the equivalent since it's not legal yet and Rosemary doesn't know and Laura is just wondering around like oops. Because she is getting to see Rosemary now and she's scared if she denied it, that it'll get back to the hospital and she won't be allowed to see her at odd hours anymore. She's having to adlib answers to how did you two get together? Etc.

A lot of these are excess ideas i trimmed off of a potential "5 times everyone thought they were gay and 1 time they were" fic, if one couldn't tell

8. They run into Rosemary's ex. A female ex, and not a very nice one. Laura gets defensive, even though up till now, she had absolutely no idea Rosemary liked girls.

alright random dialogue prompts time:

"we are going to have to talk about this at some point."

"I know. But please not right now, I've got to have a sexuality crisis first."

"Oh right. Me too I suppose, but it's not so much of a crisis for me. To hell with men, remember?"

"Yes, but I think you took that to heart more than I did."

"Well you started it."

"I started it?!" Laura said indignantly. "I seem to recall you kissing me!"

"You might want to get over there. Your partner is verbally assaulting a police officer." And Laura gets there, sees it's Nick Rosemary is yelling at, and dives behind a bush.

3×2 seeds of time: "Even Caroline Pargiter! I was only introduced to her a couple of hours ago. What do I get but "oh this is er, er." I'm going to start calling myself er. Save people the trouble."

"Well you do have that effect on people. Sometimes I look at you and you're so beautiful I even forget my own name, let alone yours, and I've known you for years. You can't expect them to remember a thing after meeting you again. Poor things were so flustered they could hardly look at you."

Laura gave her a look. "I'm going to choose to believe that's it."

They were silent as they got into the car. Then Laura said "You know, it's been a long time since anyone's called me beautiful. I'd forgotten how it feels."

"this is why people think we're lesbians." "quite right."

and these are just the ones I don't want to use. I probably could come up with fifty more. look I just remembered another one.

9. the Gongoozlers.

Laura and Quinny are driving in the rover and Quinny asks if she can ask Laura some thing very forward and every single time I think she's about to ask if Laura likes women or of Laura and Rosemary are together. It also would fit pretty well if she asked Laura out. So perhaps those are three ideas.

I'm going to stop now.

Edit: here’s another.

When gay marriage is legalized in the Uk, Rosemary goes “well, shall we give it a go then?” And laura… is confused because they’re not even together. And Rosemary gives her this whole speech about how they should take advantage of this for the people that came before them etc.” And laura is like but we’re not gay.and Rosemary says it wasn’t legalized because of love, but so that the gays could visit each other in the hospital and inherit each other’s property, and doesn’t she want that? And laura finds she does want that, and that the more she thinks about it, the more she thinks she’d live Rosemary as Swidden

[astranva]

Basic Fucking T-Shirt

Word Count: 1.3k

Category: Fluff

Warning: Just some language, not much. not proofread.

Summary: Y/N learned how to sew, and Harry is getting spoiled by it.

..

While quarantine had been melancholic and tiresome, between the stress and pressure of staying sanitised to worrying over family and friends, to checking up on people who were stuck in a country that wasn’t theirs, most people took to trying new home activities to maintain sanity in the chaos that was very much like Gotham City’s.

You remember how worrying it was to be without Harry when they declared the virus as pandemic, having had been separated by Harry’s job in another country.

You remember crying together on the phone, promises of staying safe until you reunite being spoken among the heavy sighs and clenched hearts.

But then Harry came, and he was so close yet so far, after he had self-isolated in your home; staying in the guest room, getting food in a tray in front of the door, not moving out of the room without a mask and gloves, for 14 days, only to make sure you were safe.

It wasn’t until the both of you embraced that the both of you, as cliché as it might sound, could actually breathe.

You started joining Harry for morning walks in your masks outside, both of you trying to make the best out of the situation – even if that “best” was just going outside for very limited time.

Among quarantining together and trying out new recipes, ordering and sanitising board games to play, connecting on another level, you had decided to try one new thing.

Sewing.

Harry had become used to seeing you in the office room, sewing machine on the desk, you in your eyeglasses and concentrated face on.

It was as domestic as domestic could get.

“H! H, look!” You had practically zoomed to where he was, replying to emails in the living room.

He had known that you were working on something upstairs with your machine, having had heard the sound of it and knowing by then that you only disappeared when you were sewing.

And seeing you standing in front of him, wide grin on your face, hair a little dishevelled, a new tote bag that had “HS” embroidered it, he couldn’t help but fall in love all over again.

“I made you a tote bag!”

And God, he teared up right there and then.

It only made sense that he began to wear no bag, no purse, nothing else, but the tote bag you made him.

“Yeah, my girlfriend made this,” he’d say whether somebody asked or not, “First thing she sewed. Can you see these pink and blue threa- yeah, that’s for Fine Line. Bloody talented, isn’t she?”

But then another tote bag was sewed, and then a headband to keep his hair back when he trained, and then a sunglasses case, and then two pillowcases for the both of you.

You had taken 4 days away from your sewing machine after that, but it wasn’t until one night that you went back to it.

Waking up in the middle of the night after suddenly feeling the absence of your body beside him, Harry had reached out to feel you, only to receive a confirmation that you weren’t in bed.

His eyebrows were close together in a frown, lips slightly swollen and head a tad dizzy from standing too quickly.

“Love?” He called gently, just making sure that you weren’t in the ensuite, despite the lights not being on, but don’t judge him — he was sleepy.

Stuffing his feet inside his fuzzy slippers, Harry let out a sigh as he walked outside the room, one hand reaching to brush back his hair before rubbing his face.

And then he heard it.

The sound of your sewing machine coming from the office room.

Knocking gently, Harry didn’t wait before he opened the door, “Baby?”

You were in your own world, focused to no end on the fabric and your hands as you worked on your newest work, unaware of the tall, sleepy man leaning on the doorframe.

Noticing that you were too focused, Harry pushed himself off of the doorframe before moving to you, “Baby,” he called again, this time, your head snapping to look at him, “Hey.”

“Did I wake you? Was it too loud?” You instantly asked gently, face softening as you looked up at him, your hands reaching to hold on to his after he placed his rings-bare hands on your shoulders.

He shook his head, “Not the sound. Just noticed you were gone,” he answered, “It’s late, love.”

“I know, I just couldn’t sleep without working on this, really,” you chuckled, almost laughing at how impatient you were, “I’ll be in bed soon.”

“What are you working on?” Harry smiled, amusement seeming to make his eyes twinkle as he absorbed you sitting there.

“It’s a surprise.” You smiled up at him, “Let me just finish this up and I’ll be there, yeah?”

He nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t be gone for too long.”

“I won’t.”

And you stayed true to your words because 5 minutes later, you were back in bed, in his arms, sleepily mumbling an “I love you” back.

It took you two more days of locking yourself in the office room before Harry came back from the studio one night to a messily wrapped gift on the table.

“Babe, I’m home!” He announced, leaving his keys on the table before looking at the present, finding a little note attached to it;

To Harry, From Y/N x

“You’re home!” He looked up once he heard you, seeing you rush to where he was with the widest smile on your face.

Greeting you with a kiss, Harry had a loving smirk on his face, glancing down at the present before looking back at you, “What’s that?”

“Newest work.” You dusted off his shoulders, looking at him with excitement.

“You’re showering me, love.”

You gave him a shrug, “I like it.”

“Thank you.” He said genuinely, leaning to peck your lips one more time.

“Go on, open it.” You moved back, hands going to your hips as you impatiently waited.

Holding it in his hands, he took notice of how light it was and he instantly guessed that it was probably apparel.

Being careful as to not tear the wrapping paper, Harry’s stomach erupted in butterflies as he took out the white t-shirt.

A t-shirt, made from scratch, was what you made him, but right there in the middle, a small sized text of embroidery was placed;

‘my girlfriend made me this t-shirt to remind me that i don’t have to spend thousands on a basic fucking white t-shirt.’

Harry’s laugh filled the house, eyebrows going up in surprise and his face, quite literally though not so scientifically, lit up.

Not realising yet knowing how much of an effect Harry had on you, and you on him, your face lit up with an excited smile, shyly clasping your hands together under your chin, “You like it?”

His laughter died down into chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief before approaching you in a couple of steps, his hands reaching to cup your cheeks, “You’re incredible, you know that?”

You giggled – a sound that made it to the top of Harry’s “favourite sounds” list.

“I love it,” he said before pressing his lips against yours, “So much,” another kiss, “Thank you for making it,” and another, “I love you.” And yet, another kiss was gently placed on your lips.

To nobody’s surprise, Harry wore the t-shirt at every moment he could; online interview? Restocking food necessities from the grocery’s? Writing sesh with Tom and Mitch? Walks?

It was also no surprise when fans started making their own version of the t-shirt, adopting a name for it that had you all surprised and giggly, taking to Twitter to directly fangirl with them:

Basic Fucking T-Shirt.

[gorgon-goddess-of-chaos]

Promise

Platonic Murdoch? Does that even exist? This might be one of the more difficult things I’ve ever written. But, here we go! No promises on quality. I’m shaking The Discord right now. Older Brother!Murdoch, TW: knife, offscreen kill, small bit of blood Words: 675

Murdoch has been working a lot recently, but he promised you that he’d take you somewhere fun on his day off. Sometimes it’s the diner you both like for their floats, sometimes it’s the park. But the fair was in town today, and you begged him to take you. He was hesitant at first, a little concerned about safety with how many people were going to be there, but he promised, and he’s not a man to break promises to his only younger sibling. You were four years old when he ran away at age sixteen, and six when he adopted you out of the household. Sometimes the line between dad and older brother blurred, but he always found time for you. You knew what he did, but you also knew he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. He promised that he’d never let anything bad happen to you, and ten years later, it still held true. You found it amusing how he always would say that he was a little “tied up” with work whenever you needed him to come home and help you with your homework, but he always did. You pull into a parking spot in his purple muscle car, his second favorite. Murdoch used to tease that if you were bad, his car would become his new favorite, but they were always empty threats then filled with laughter. He’s wearing fairly normal clothes, a dad joke t-shirt, his red sunglasses, and cargo shorts. Nearly unrecognizable except for his smirk and shades. He locks the car, the both of you walking into the fairgrounds after he pays. “Anything you wanna do specifically?” He quirks an eyebrow at you, scanning the crowd between glances at you, keeping a hand on your back to keep you close. Anyone could recognize him, and he’s reasonably worried of you getting taken, or worse. And that’s not a chance he’s willing to take. “Maybe the haunted house? Or maybe the rollercoaster first? The park is still pretty empty, so the lines will be faster.” “Good ideas, we’ll get a snack after the rides.” You both genuinely enjoy the rides, laughing at all the childish jumpscares of the haunted house, and him cackling as you scream on the rollercoaster. You both enter the food court, stalls lined with various fried foods, various cuisines you normally don’t order from. You settle on a stand with classic corndogs, enjoying them on a bench together when you see a dark figure dash between a few of the booths. “Hey Mur, we might have trouble…” “I know, he’s been following us the whole time. I wasn’t going to take care of him until either you noticed or he did something stupid. For your sake, I’m glad it’s the first one. I’ll get you a cotton candy while I take care of him, but we might need to leave afterwards…” “Can we come back next weekend?” “Absolutely. Promise.” “Then cough up my cotton candy, Mur.” He chuckles, buying you a bag as you both head over to the Ferris wheel. Now aware of him, you see the man following you out of the corner of your eye. Before, you used to get scared when this would happen, but you frankly just don’t really care anymore. You both get to the Ferris wheel, leaning against the side of the attraction. The man tries to sneak up on you both, but a knife to the throat quickly stops his movements as Murdoch leads him around the back. You keep watch, eating your blue cotton candy. Murdoch comes out shortly later, a little bloody, but nothing terribly noticeable. You both head for the exit, him discarding his knife in one of the trash cans as you pass. You get back to the car, climbing in as you start to hear a commotion from beyond the gates. He cackles, pulling out of the parking spot to take you home. He’s not the perfect older brother, but he tries. Plus, he’d never break a promise to you.

[glitteryhellhole]

alright lets do this

here we go

Title: The Tent Fandom: Z nation Pairing: 10K x female reader Word count: approx 3k Rating: 18 Description: fluffy smut with awkward cinnamon roll 10K

A gas station. A real life, untouched gas station. Apart from the bloody handprints smeared on the concrete walls.

It didn't take long to sweep and secure the area, then fill up the truck and the reserve cannisters. Afterwards Warren gestured with her gun to the convenience store. “Look for anything useful.”

The place had been untouched since day one. Mummified hot dogs still sitting on a rack. The register hanging open- perhaps in the beginning some people had looted cash, but it didn't take long to realise money didn't mean anything anymore.

You shoved bottles of water and packets of candy into your rucksack before following Addy's gaze to the toiletries shelf. Pads and tampons, little travel-sized bodywashes, an actual toothbrush.

“It's a whole new kind of mercy,” she whistled.

You picked up the first aid kit and the two crushed boxes of painkillers, turning to ask Doc if they'd be any good- and found him and Murphy kneeling on the counter, pulling away the plastic panel which guarded the cigarettes.

Priorities, huh.

Loaded up, you looked around you. Warren was on watch so 10K had let his guard down for once and was poking at the faded magazines. You saw his pink lips move as he mouthed the titles to himself. Something familiar caught his eye, probably the one with guns all over, and he reached up- and the whole top shelf came tumbling down. Suddenly 10K was surrounded by glossy double-page spreads of unnaturally bronzed and perky breasts and butts.

He froze like an animal in a trap.

“Found what you're looking for?” Doc's voice was loud and his arms were cradling an impressive quantity of alcohol. “There's a lot of generic lesbians, over forties, asian fetish, but for a beginner I'd recommend-”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a crash as 10K backed rapidly out of the shop, cheeks ablaze, taking down a stand of air fresheners and sending sunglasses skittering across the floor in every direction.

The rest of you laughed, for the first time in a while. Back in the truck and passing round bags of only-slightly-stale chips, you all agreed that the gas station was your best find in quite some time.

Except perhaps for the tent.

A little way back, a stranded family had been incredibly grateful for a tow out of the ditch, and had gifted you their spare tent. No ordinary camping gear, this thing was foil-lined and had a built in waterproof, cushioned underlayer. On an especially hot night you'd probably want it to yourself but the rest of the time it comfortably housed two people, keeping in the heat. You'd been taking turns each night, with priority to the injured, meaning that every morning there was at least one person who was fully rested and recharged. Ideal when every day was a battle for survival.

Of course, there was one other advantage to the tent. Privacy. Human needs didn't really get talked about in this un-human world, and whatever got overheard in the night would also go unspoken.

It was nearing dusk and you were pulling over to make camp. “Who's turn in the tent?” Murphy called out as he threw himself down on the ground. “Dibs.”

Warren, who was unloading a heavy bag, gave him a kick in the side. “Get up and help. I don't think 10K's had a turn yet.”

“Neither's she.” He nodded at you.

“Settled then.”

Murphy sniggered.

Since there was plenty of water, there was a rare chance to wash up a bit. Ladies first while the men stood watch with their backs turned, and then vice versa. Nowhere near to having a hot shower in privacy, but it was something. You noticed that 10K didn't bother putting his shirt back on afterwards as he squatted by the fire cleaning his weapons, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

How could somebody so skinny be so strong? Must be the result of life outdoors.

He raised an eyebrow and you realised you were staring. Oops.

“Here.” Somebody passed you a can of cheap beer that had come from the store along with the snacks and cigarettes. It was almost like being at a camp-out. The beer was gross but it gave you a nice warm feeling in your chest, and the idea of lying down somewhere soft started to seem quite appealing, so you said your goodnights and retreated into the tent.

You weren't sure how long it was until you were joined, perhaps you'd started to drift off- the sound of the zip jolted you back to your senses as 10K flopped unceremoniously into the tent, stretching out next to you. “Beer makes shoelaces hard.” He complained.

You giggled and sat up to help. “When was the last time you slept without shoes on?”

“Probably before my voice broke.” He scratched his head while watching you remove his boots and then said, “I'm not good at talking, especially to girls, but you don't scare me.”

“Thanks for the compliment, I think?” You laid back down, closing your eyes and pulling your blanket over you. There was silence for a minute but it was oddly comfortable, the security of a warm person breathing next to you.

“What was your first word?” You asked into the silence. “I bet it was gun.”

“Actually it was primrose.”

“Huh?”

“My momma's favourite flower.” He rolled over onto his stomach, closing the gap between you, and rested his cheek on his folded arms. “I was six. Doctor said I wasn't learning but I was paying attention to everything. She used to take me to the library in town to look at all sorts of books, that where we learned to sign.”

You couldn't help but ask. “When did she...?”

“When I was nine. Pops wanted me to try and be a normal kid but once she'd gone he didn't want anything to do with the rest of the world and stopped sending me to school.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.” He wriggled a little to get more comfortable. “Can you talk for a bit now?”

So you talked about your own parents, and your hometown, and it surely wasn't very interesting but 10K watched you intently as he sobered up, studying your face, and you hoped you weren't blushing. After a while you came to a natural conclusion in your story and realised that his fingers were twitching, as though he were nervous.

What's up?” you asked softly.

He blinked slowly. “Ain't always easy to tell when you're supposed to say stuff and when you're not.”

Unsure what to expect, you gave him an encouraging nod.

“Can I... touch your hair?”

Your heart started to beat a little fast and you nodded again. 10K's fingers reached out timidly to feel you hair, twisting strands and brushing them away from your face.

You hadn't felt human touch in so long, and you couldn't help but rest your head on his arm as he stroked. The pair of you seemed to breathe in unison. It was almost peaceful.

Almost. Apart from the little sparks of electricity that seemed to fizzle into life where your skin touched his.

Could he feel it too? It didn't seem so. There he was growing more and more serene, while you were   warming up in a way that had nothing to do with the insulated tent.

“Um...” You fidgeted awkwardly, trying to choose the right words. “10K? You know why they were giggling right?”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were closed. “People do stuff in the tent. Its pretty obviously I've never... y'know.”

“Does it bother you?”

“A bit, but its not like I can go meet a girl and ask her Pops if I can take her to the barn dance.”

You couldn't help but laugh a little. “I mean the teasing.”

“Oh.” He blushed slightly as he opened his eyes to look at you. “I get why, you're near my age and you're pretty. Any guy would be lucky to date you.”

Oh indeed. Maybe he did feel it then.

“You could...” You bit your lip and steeled yourself. “You could pretend that you were.”

He sat bolt upright, making you jump, and a wide grin spread across his face. “I could ask you on a picnic, at my favourite place in the woods.” His words were tumbling out fast from nervous excitement. “Make nice bread, Mom's special recipe with the dried fruit. And we could talk like we did earlier and I could pick you flowers and then I could kiss you.”

His lips were clumsy as they first met yours, but eager, and didn't take long to find a groove. You sighed and leaned in, one hand reaching up into his hair, and-

A single gunshot cracked through the air.

In an instant 10K was lurching for the tent entrance where his gun was propped. You reached for your shoes, panic rising in your chest.

“False alarm.” Doc's voice came from outside. “Nothing to worry about. Hey, you okay in there kid? Need me to give ya a quick pep talk on anything?”

“I'm good.” He zipped the flap back up then turned back to you. “Actually do you think maybe I should? I don't really know what to do.”

You couldn't help but laugh again. He was way too innocent for someone so good-looking.

You put and hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.  “Just do what feels natural.”

“Okay.” He gave you another wide grin, showing those adorably crooked teeth, and then practically launched himself at you, so you landed on your back and he was on top of you, lips moulding to the shape of yours. You gasped for air and 10K made an apologetic sound without pausing the kiss, propping himself up on one elbow so that you could breathe.

His hand rested on your stomach, fingers still for a moment before balling up your shirt and gently navigating the exposed skin. Tentative. Like soothing a spooked animal.

You reached your hand up to touch his shoulders, feeling hard muscle under surprisingly soft skin. Tracing his collarbones and around the back of his neck. He shivered and broke the kiss, and you saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

“Maybe I could take your shirt off too.” He mumbled. In answer you sat up and held your arms above your head. 10K pulled your shirt over your head- sending the little lamp tied to the tent roof swinging- then looked confused as his thumb hooked into the shoulder strap of your sports bra. You kind of wished you'd been wearing something nicer for this occasion, but you'd dressed for practicality before hitting the road.

“Here. Let me.” You wriggled out of the bra, trying not to elbow him in the process.

“Wowee.” 10K let out a whistle. “You look even better without clothes on. Why would anyone want to look at random pictures?”

It seemed like he could have sat there and stared forever, but you didn't have forever, and so you pulled him in to kiss again. He trailed his lips across your face and on to your neck, one arm supporting you from behind and the other hand landing on your chest, squeezing experimentally.

“Not so hard,” you gasped.

“Sorry. They're squishier than I expected.” He let out a humming noise into the crook of your neck as his fingers found a hard nipple and brushed back and forth.

You dipped your head down too, lightly touching your teeth to his throat. A low growl escaped and he pushed you back down, pressing his body close to yours, and you could feel his eager hardness against your hip.

10K tried the same move, nipping at the skin under your ear. His breathing was very shallow and rapid as he licked and sucked experimentally, moving down over your breasts.

“You taste good. But not in a zombie way.”

Your hands rested on his hips, fingers splaying out to softly squeeze his ass and then dipping below the loose waistband.

“Oh, wait.” He rolled off you to shed a pile of concealed knives and the little sharp discs that he used in the sling shot.

“What else are you hiding down there?” You smirked. For a moment he turned beetroot red and covered his crotch with his hands, but then met your smile with one of his own.

“Just means I like you and I like this.” He shrugged. “Do you-”

“Mmhmm.” You reached out to ease his trouser buttons undone, fumbling slightly, but you weren't nervous. It just felt right with him. “I like you. And I like this.”

He groaned softly as the restriction on his hardness eased and grabbed you for another kiss, this time hungry and slightly sloppy. 10K's fingers found the fastening of your own jeans and made quick work, tugging them down to your knees. Then he paused for a moment, putting a finger to your lips.

There was no noise from outside.

“We're good.” With a bit of awkward shuffling, you both shed your trousers and then looked at each other.

“We probably shouldn't go all the way,” you said almost reluctantly. “No protection and all that. But there's still stuff-”

“Anything.” 10K blurted out without a second's pause. “Everything. I'll do whatever you want. But not what you don't want.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips again as he stared at you earnestly.

You felt a shiver travel down your spine. Nobody had ever looked at you quite like that before. Not just lust but something deeper, as though he was seeing through your skin and right inside you.

“Come here,” he whispered huskily, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You sighed into the kiss and slowly moved your hips, letting your centre rub against his as you straddled him, tangling fingers in his messy hair.

10K moaned something that sounded like “shucks” and you couldn't help but snort. What would it take to make him swear? You dug your nails in a little, catching his lip between your teeth.

“Want to touch you.” He moaned, gripping your hips. “Want you to touch me.”

You trailed your hand from his cheek all the way down to cup the pronounced bulge in his boxers and his eyes rolled back in his skull, but then he visibly shook himself and swatted your hand away. “Ladies first.” The hand slid a little clumsily down into your knickers.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against 10K's, feeling how hot his skin was. His curious fingertips traced your labia and in between.

“It's wet.” He sounded surpised, and brought a thumb to his mouth to taste.

“That's a good thing.” You felt a little self-conscious as you explained, watching him suck his thumb. “It means I'm, you know, turned on.”

“Show me how to make it feel good,” he murmured, lifting you off his lap and laying you back down before tugging your knickers all the way down and spreading your legs.

You took his hand in yours and guided him, showing him your clit. His marksman fingertips quickly picked it up and he kissed you again as he touched you. “Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah you're- oh, yeah thats good.” Your voice was high-pitched and breathy. 10K made a satisfied “hmph” and nuzzled into your neck. He smelled of safety. Less dirt and blood than usual, traces of soap, whatever he was using for hair gel, engine oil. Sweat but not in the just-been-running-and-fighting way, in the musky hormonal way.

The feeling swelling inside you was something you hadn't experienced, hadn't even thought about, in a long time. But here and now it was growing, consuming, and you couldn't imagine anything other than his touch, his hot breath on your cheek.

“Hey.” 10K's voice was husky again. “You need something else?”

You became aware that your hips were twitching. “A bit faster maybe?”

A moan escaped your lips as he obliged, and 10K grinned. “That's hot.” Then he cocked his head to one side, raising his eyebrows. “I assume girls can- y'know-”

“It looks a bit different but yes.” You were gasping now as you spoke, chest rising and falling.

“Do it for me.” He murmured, watching you as though hypnotised and biting his lip. His words and his gaze loosened the coiled spring that was weighing down your abdomen and the endorphins came rushing as you climaxed.

“Shh.” He pressed his mouth to yours and swallowed your moan, pressing his fingers harder as you moved beneath him until it became almost too much. “Do you want them to hear us?”

You shook your head, trying to control your breathing.

“Maybe you do.” He raised an eyebrow again as his fingers finally slowed to a halt. “I kinda do. So they all know what I just did to you.”

“Do you want your turn or not?”

That shut him up. He glanced down and you followed his gaze. He was still very much erect, and there was now a distinct wet patch where he'd leaked a little in excitement.

You pushed 10K onto his back and settled yourself next to him. “Let me know if something's not ok,” you told him. “I won't do anything you don't want.”

He nodded and closed his eyes. He flinched a little as you pulled his boxers down but then his face relaxed and his lips parted as you touched him.

“Have you done this to yourself?” You asked. “So you know what you like.”

He nodded, looking somewhat bashful. “A few times. But this is different. Better.”

It was your turn to grin as your fingers circled his erection and found a rhythm. 10K's head tilted back and the smallest of high-pitched noises escaped his open mouth. You lowered your lips to his exposed neck and sucked gently at the skin. There was a red mark when you pulled away.

“Mmmph.” He rasped through gritted teeth. “Again.”

“It'll leave a bruise.”

“Don't care.”

You began to create a trail of little hickeys down his throat and across his collarbones as you continued to stroke, and his tiny whimpers grew more frequent. You knew it wouldn't be long.

10K was holding onto you tightly, nails digging in, droplets of sweat visible on his forehead. “I think I'm gonna- ahh....” He seemed to lose the ability to speak as you attacked his neck again, eyes rolling back. A few moments later, his hips bucked and you could feel hot sticky warmth coat your fingers.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

So he did swear after all.

You kissed him again, and then looked down. “Um, got anything to clean up with?”

Still breathing heavily, 10K sat up and reached for his trousers, pulling a bandana out of one of the many pockets. “It's my least favourite. I'll burn it.”

Like the gentleman he'd been raised to be, he wiped your hand off first before tending to himself, then tossed the soiled cloth out of the way and pulled you close. You rested your head on his chest. You'd heard the term 'afterglow' but never really thought that it was a thing; it apparently was. The chemicals your brain was releasing and the protective hold of his arms made you want to laugh, and cry, and drift off to sleep, and run a mile, all at once.

Just for a moment, there was no apocalypse. There was only you and him and the little lamp above your heads.

It was 10K who broke the spell. “I need to pee.” he said apologetically. “Like, real bad.”

You laughed at the face he was pulling and threw his trousers at him. 10K slithered with some difficulty into them, kicking the side of the tent, and then stumbled outside.

You realised how cold it was now and reached for your own clothes. As footsteps indicated 10K's return, you could have sworn you heard the sound of a high-five.

“What was that?” You demanded as he re-entered the tent.

“Never mind.” He grabbed the blanket and laid it over you.”I  want to do that again. But we should probably get some sleep.”

“The whole point of the tent is to get proper rest right?” You scooted closer as he laid down, offering the blanket, but he refused, tucking it round you and then wrapping his arms round too so you were tightly cocooned against his side.

“Yeah. Sure.”

>>>>>Thanks for reading! This is the first fanfic i’ve done in literally years. Open to feedback and even perhaps requests :) PS i am v english so I apologise to any Americans insulted by my attempts at your words