whisper bench

Love Draught - A Sirius Black Imagine

Originally posted by kissableandsexy

Hi! :) I’m sorry I haven’t written in a long time, let’s say I had busy weeks lately. 

Warnings : None, really, maybe a little fluff. Would lead to smut eventually.

Masterlist


‘Of course you had to blow the whole thing!’ you scream as the boiling potion turns into a bright red colour.
It was supposed to be blue and Sirius freaking Black threw the liquorice roots too early in the process, messing up your third try.
'I love it when you talk about blowing things Y/N, really’ he replies, smirking.
'Oh shut up, Black. You know if we can’t manage that potion before the end of the week, Slughorn is going to make us fail the class!’
He looks at you, disgusted.
'He won’t fail you, you’re in his house.’
'Oh and you think he’s going to care? It’s supposed to be a team work, Black. Do you know what a team mate is supposed to do? Not fucking messing away with the homework!’
'Hey, Y/L/N, if you’re not happy, just do it yourself!’
'Fine!’ you shout back, emptying the cauldron with your wand.
Stupid Black. You roll your eyes. When professor Slughorn paired you together, you didn’t know yet how Sirius could be clumsy. He was so brilliant, nevertheless, he didn’t use his talent to achieve Potions carefully. He didn’t care about this matter.
But you did and there was no way he was going to make you fail the class. Your mid-term exam was at the end of the week and if you wanted to get your NEWT next year, you absolutely had to pass that essay.
'Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, leaving the class more frustrated.
It was always about that. Half on the year, you had been fighting with Sirius constantly over the work you had to do. He despised you because you were in Slytherin and you loathed him because he was a jerk. If he judged you by the colour of the tie you wore, that was his lost.
Still, you didn’t want to admit to yourself that he was kind of hot when he was angry. The way he was throwing his hands in the air in desperation made you wonder what those could do around your body. And even if you thought it was lame, the sexual innudendos he’d make once in a while turned you on more than you wanted to concede.
You sighed. He was a player. And you’d never stoop to that.
But he was constantly in your mind. His bark like laugh made you shiver inside.
The prick. The fucking prick.
He always got away of shitty situations with that handsome smile of his. But not with you. And he hated it.
You walked into the halls thinking about the exams coming up. You really would master the damn potion if it wasn’t for your shitty teammate. You both even asked Slughorn if you could change partners.
'It just doesn’t work out, professor.’
'Yeah she and I aren’t a good match.’
'He’s right. We hate each other.’
Slughorn looked at you with a wide smile.
'It just encourages me to keep making you two work together. If you can brew this potion in these conditions, you’ll be able to brew any potion at the end of the year!’
And now you were stuck with him.
After dinner, you saw Sirius in the corridor, babbling with his friend James.
'Black!’ you shouted.
He looked at you and rolled his eyes.
'What is it, again?’
'You’ll have to go get liquorice roots again. We haven’t any left since you spoiled the last of it.’
'How about you go get it yourself?’ he replied, turning his back at you.
You clenched your fists together.
'Hey, I didn’t ask for this either but I don’t want to fail Potions just because of you! If you don’t want to go alone, at least come with me! I won’t do the dirty work solo, again!’
James looked at the both of you, amused.
'Okay lovebirds-’ he said, Sirius looking harshly at James at the sound of the last word, ’-enough. Sirius, why don’t you be a gentleman and go with the lady?’
Sirius shrugged and sighed. You silently thanked James. He could be a pain in the ass when he wanted to, but at least he showed a little bit more brains than his best friend.
You walked in the deserted hall until you reached the wide closet where professor Slughorn kept the ingredients accessible for the students.
'It’s locked’ said Sirius, pulling the doorknob.
'Are you a wizard or what?’ you replied, annoyed.
You pulled out your wand of your pockets and pointed it at the door.
'Alohomora’
You heard a tick and you turned the handle.
Sirius gave you the angry look.
'It’s on the highest shelf’ you said.
'Why don’t you go grab it?’
'I’m too short!’ you replied.
'Are you a witch or what?’ he answered, stepping into the big closet.
After a few ramblings, you heard Sirius sigh heavily.
'It’s not here’
'It should be. Keep looking!’
'I already looked twice. There’s none left. We’ll have to wait tomorrow.’
You stepped into the little room.
'We can’t wait for tomorrow, we have to try again tonight!’
Sirius turned around, looking bothered.
'Says who?’
'If you hadn’t mess with the last attempt, we wouldn’t have to try again.’
'Well, the liquorice’s not here so I guess we’ll wait.’
'I don’t believe you! I’m sure you don’t find it on purpose!’
'Hey, Y/L/N, if you don’t believe me, come and take a look!’
You rolled your eyes and started to look everywhere. Sirius was right, after a few minutes of grabbing every pots and bottles, you realized that the main ingredient for your potion was not available.
'Shit’ you muttered.
'Told you!’
Frustrated, you walked to the door. You tried to open it. It was locked from the outside.
'Oh, for Merlin’s!’ you shouted.
You tried to open it with your wand, it didn’t work.
Sirius pushed you on the side as he tried to unlock it himself.
'Oh just great’ you cried. 'Now I’m stuck with you.’
Sirius turned around, facepalming. He let his body slip on the floor, hands on his raised knees.
You slipped on the ground as well.
'This your fault’ Sirius mumbled.
'What did you say?’ you replied, your face becoming red.
'You heard me just fine.’
'Hey, if you had taken this shit seriously, we wouldn’t be there in the first place!’
'I hate you so much’ he said, looking at you with a smirk.
'It’s mutual, I hate you too.’
He smiled, sighing heavily.
'You know you’re pretty when you’re angry?’
'Don’t start, Black, not in the mood.’
'You never are’ he replied, messing with his dark locks.
'Is there a time you aren’t?’ you asked, blushing suddenly.
'Only when you’re not around, Y/L/N.’
You looked into his silver eyes, he was grinning.
'Oh, shut it. We hate each other, remember?’
But you found yourself leaning closer on him. You could almost feel his heart beating next to you. The heat releasing from his body was unbearable. You felt like you wanted to melt into him.
Time felt like it stopped. You could feel the tension between you two. Both your bodies were burning with desire.
'I hate you’ you whispered, benching your face on his.
He licked his lower lips, still staring intensely in your eyes. You could feel his breath on your face as your mouths were about to clench together.
'But you want me’ he breathed.
You heard a loud click as professor Slughorn’s face appeared in the doorway.
'Merlin’s beard, children! What are you doing here?’
You both jumped as far from one another.
'We got locked inside’ you said nervously, tossing away the hair in your face.
You gave a furtive look at a disheveled Sirius.
You were almost disappointed you got interrupted.
But you were never going to admit it.

Protect my Honor- Tyler Seguin

Originally posted by jamiebenntrash

Ok anon I wanted to do Auston, but he just doesn’t seem like the type… so you got Tom instead! Hope you guys like this one! Enjoy!

Warning: Fight, cusses

Anon Request: hi i love your stories💓 if requests are still open could you do a tyler seguin one where like another hockey player starts hitting on you and he gets jealous and during the game they get into a scuffle? maybe the other guy could be auston matthews? tom wilson? (:

~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

              You were leaning against the wall, waiting for your boyfriend to come meet you before the game. It was part of his game day routine and one you were happy to partake in.

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Binary Star (II)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jaebum / Mark

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3,282

Summary: In some cases, these close binary systems can exchange mass, which may bring their evolution to stages that single stars cannot attain.”

You and Jaebum have been dating forever when Mark Tuan shows up in your classroom. You’ve always been against change - a bit debilitating, being a writer - but for some reason this new kid has you thinking there might be an upside to chaos.

Originally posted by jae-en-beom


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Assassin's Aesthetic Feels

(( according to what I think of when I think of them ))

Distant Altaïr: Black coffee, game show network, sudden rain, bitter chocolates, flashlights, late texts, nicknames, matches, petting zoos, apartment, park bench, whispers.

Love Story Ezio: Horizon, shoujo manga, silk sheets, shaggy dogs, art gallery, bath bombs, never sent letters, white shoes, missing hair ties, Netflix, apple cores.

Warm Connor: Slow kisses, beige apparel, bird watching, hand puppets, write apologies, homemade breakfast, gold candy wrappers, coffee creamer, Disney movies.

Hasty Edward: Whiskey, piercings, bear hugs, eye bags, leather jackets, sea-salt taffy, cartoon Saturdays, pearls, maple syrup, ferry rides, light blue, cactus plants, buckled boots.

Urban Arno: Cotton sweaters, city walks, herb charms, chevron, pink lemonade, new books, hellos, night lights, library, pastry shoppes, indie music.

Vague Jacob: Beanies, movie night, Ferris wheel, heavy breathing, tickling, Internet explorer, cold tea, strawberry jam, clocks, fogged mirrors, mementos, faint cologne.

Average Evie: Coffee shop with friends, midnight, melting candles, suitcases, tabby cats, star gazing, alarm clock, pale, blackberry jam, trinkets, orange juice, baggy shirts, keys.

A trip to Hogsmeade with Draco would include
  • Him being anxious af when he asked you to come with him
  • You find it fun to watch him struggling to find his words
  • He would wait for you in your common room so you could walk together
  • To start your trip, he would bring you to The Three Broomsticks, and as the two of you would start to get more comfortable, you would notice Blaise, Pansy and Theodore laughting at how awkward Draco looks
  • Pansy winking at you and mouthing “you go girl
  • You would try to make Draco more comfortable by suggesting to go to Zonko’s
  • Both of you having fun like you’re 8 years old as you try almost every product in the store
  • You would finish your afternoon eating an ice cream on a bench and whispering mean things about the people walking in front of you

Thank you for reading this, please tell me if I made any mistakes, english is not my mother tongue ;)

Fan fiction: Proper Ventilation

Proper Ventilation

By: Shantelle, SheWhoFacesTheSun

The Get Down Fanfiction

Pairing: Dizzee x Thor

Word Count: 6,138

 

Part 1

Summary: Dizzee explores his inner world on his way to meet Thor.

Blistering sunshine and city noise poured though the window as Dizzee Kipling rolled over in bed, the sheets sticking to his skin. Opening his eyes slowly and gently, he faced a new day. The sun heated his chest, seeming to light him a flame with an itching burning, energy. Down the street the sound of drums and tambourines echo loudly between the tall buildings and dirty stairwells.

Man, drum beats in the air this early and it throbs my heart in time to it, thinks Dizzee to himself as he squints, trying hard to study his unchipped nails, the polish glinting in the new angles.

 “Dizzee? Dizzee, are you awake man?” comes Ra Ra’s voice from the narrow hall, “Mom made breakfast. You better hurry up if you want some.”  

Dizzee lazily pulled himself from the damp sheets, reaching up to tug at clumps of his kinky afro. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and smiles. His lips still managing to appear pouting despite his grin and rosy cheeks. Shaking his head, he dresses quickly, trading his sweaty night clothes for his striped bell bottoms and a wine colored fitted muscle shirt. Standing at full height, he slips on several beaded and corded bracelets, a ring and his two favorite necklaces.

 After a quick stop to the bathroom, and feeling mildly refreshed, Dizzee sits down at the already full table. He trades smiles with his little brother Boo Boo, who has a face full of eggs. “What’s up brother?”, he asks with a glint in his eyes, “Get enough sleep?”

Ra-Ra looks up, and nudges his shoulder, “Stop Boo, leave him alone. It’s too early.”

“Nah, he had a late night too. I wanna hear more about this Thor guy,” Boo said, his eyebrows bouncing obnoxiously, clearly betraying serious his interest, even though his voice is still light.  “Is he nice?”

“I said leave it,” answers Ra, looking Dizzee in his eyes and noticing his big brother let out a sigh of relief. Even Yolanda glanced over at his sharp tone. Picking up his fork, Dizzee looks around the bustling room, enjoying feeling of fondness and affection that blossomed in his stomach. Yolanda shimmied in her seat as their dad crooned an old song to her from his place at the head of the table.

“You girls are coming up so quick. I can’t believe it. This Jackie man, he’s good? That good?” Dad questions, his deep voice sounding jazzy, although his words were straight forward.

“Yes Dad! Of course he is. I told you we gonna be big disco stars! We’ve been practicing so hard. Its like it’s meant to be. Mylene was right,” Yolanda responds. Her hair seeming to vibrate with excitement.

“Cool it girl, I believe ya. My babies all have talent. Look at me,” He gestures grandly to himself, then tapped a beat out on the table top, “I’m simply magnificent myself, why wouldn’t you be, Sunshine? Look around, we’re all stars! Even Boo Boo.”

“Hey! I’m the funny one. With the quickest hands on the block,” Boo jeers, pretending to hit a punching bag above his messy plate. “You need to be ready to keep hittin’ them books when school starts back up,” Dad yells with a cool smirk painting its way across his face.

Mom smiles to herself too, as he turns back and continued sing-talking to Yolanda. Ra Ra rolls up his current comic and finally digs into his pancakes. Dizzee can’t help but think of his family as mosaic of color and sound. Zeke was right to compare the Get Down Brothers to different instruments. Everyone has beautiful unique sound. And what is sound without color, in a section of the world this clouded with darkness, fear and temptation?

“What do you boys have planned for today?” Mom asks, slipping into her own seat.

“Well Ma, since you asked so kindly,” starts Ra Ra, as he tapped his rolled up comic book on his skinny thigh, “I’m going to chill with Shaolin and see if we can come up with some kind of business plan for the Get Down Brothers now that he’s been given the clear to deejay again.” Ra liked Shao but wasn’t too sure Shao liked him or his brothers. He was determined to find out and make some money in the progress. Ra Ra understood great teams didn’t just form strong bonds instantly, not even in comics, but he wanted to see how far they could grow in this city of broken dreams and concrete hearts.

“I’mma go down to the arcades, win myself enough tickets for some candy and meet myself a fly girl,” he chuckles loudly to himself, rubbing his hands together. “Whatever Boo, no girl want you. Take some time this summer to focus on growing,” Yolanda wise cracked before sipping her orange juice. Ra Ra stifled a chuckle while passing Dizzee the tray of cooling bacon.

“Its cool Boo,” starts Dizzee in a mellow tone, “You might be small. But you’re not small. Hear this man, you are the universe in delirious undulation. You flow.” 

 Boo Boo stares, then blinks and shakes his head laughing. “You weird. If you mean I’m flier than Michael Jackson, I can dig it.” Ra Ra smiles, turning the page of his book adding in, “Good weird my man, the best kind of weird. Its like your super power Dizz.”

Dizzee glanced at his brothers, spacing out a bit. Everyone is always calling me weird. They are always laughing at me, he thinks to himself, but I’m just trying to think deeply for all of us. We are all but fireworks in this great universe. I am reaching for new treasure in daily life, using words to spread love and become art. Life is art. Right? Maybe my mind is just flying freely, fearlessly. He takes a long sip of his warming orange juice.

“Dizzee? Dizzee?” enters his mother’s voice through the hazy fog of his thoughts. “Yeah?”

“I asked what you were going to doing today? I don’t want you getting into any more trouble. I want my babies safe. This summer has already had its fair share of madness.”

 His mother face was soft with worry and gentleness. Dizzee loved his mother. They both carried tender spaces within them and saw opportunities for creativity when others saw only ruins. Like the moon, they both went through phases. And in the darkness of night and the overwhelming brokenness of this metropolis, people just mistook it for weakness.

 “Uh, I’m just gonna chill at The Writer’s Bench and walk around a little.”

“Just walk around he says,” injects Dad, “Don’t believe that for a hot minute. Don’t be spraying all over the city. Keep them hands clean boy.”

Dizzee looks down briefly before saying, “I won’t. I told you I’m into pop art now.”

Everyone began to clear the table and walk their dishes over to the sink. “Yo, Dizz, you really going to The Bench?” whispers Ra as they start rinsing their plates off shoulder to shoulder.

 “Yeah, Thor wants to meet back up so we can plan a piece together.” Ra looks out of the corner of his eye, skeptical. “Really? I don’t want to be in all in your business man but,” he pauses, “forget it. I just want you to be yourself.” Ra may always have his nose in a book but he’s rarely out of the loop, and is always looking for hints in the world around him. For him life is a comic book and we’re all discovering our powers, second by second. He refuses to miss any of character development.

 “Honestly man, fuck. Reason is powerless in the face of…,” Dizzee trails off, staring out the window into the bright blue sky. Ra Ra examines his face intensely, then looks away. “Do yo thing. Good luck on your next piece. I’ll see you later.” Ra steps back and dries his hands on the towel near the windowsill, slapping Dizzee’s shoulders before walking back to his room. Dizzee stands alone in the empty kitchen, soaking in the residual energy of every member of his family. He feels full but he also feels empty. It’s like there was a hollow space inside of him. He feels emotion pass though it, briefly sustaining him, but never satisfying him as deeply as he instinctually knows it should. Picking up the same old towel, Dizzee dries his hands, noticing his polish chipping off in smooth pieces. He immediately experiences the loss.

 Stopping in the small living room to grab his messenger bag, checking for his sketch books, LSD tabs, drawing markers and graphite pencils. I’ve got all that I need right here, he thinks as he slips quietly out the door, making sure it’s locked tight.

The hallway is much dimmer than his home was, and it feels chilled in the darkness. Walking gracefully, Dizzee shoves his hands into his pockets and starts down the stairs. Seen and unseen. Moving and unmoving. I am that, he thinks as his feet pound out a fast cadence. “Should I take this trip now?” questions his voice within him. He stops in the doorway to the street, and pulls out a tab of LSD and slips it into his mouth. He wonders only for a moment if he looks like a young brown god savoring the moment before taking an offered delicacy, and tastes his own finger tips as it starts to dissolve.

Dizzee sighs, feeling his conscious self relax and release with his measured exhale. Time to run from all which is comfortable. Forget safety. From this point on I’ll be a little mad, whispers his mind again.

The sunshine again lights Dizzee’s skin with fever, as he breezed from darkened hallway of his building. Gingerly swinging his arms in time to his heart beat and foot falls, Dizzee took off down the side walk, noticing the slow shift of color saturations as he traveled. Grays melted into whites. The varying shades of Bronx browns and blacks shimmer and glitter. The noisy voices of people and machinery ebbed and flowed with his focus. It’s like he could flip in between many invisible lens as his head turned back and forth.

Several minutes into his journey Dizzee’s mind takes notice of the moisture gathering in his top lip. Stopping at the cross walk, he slips his tongue out sensuously, and samples himself. Behind his eyes he imagines Thor, his own vigilant suitor, dancing in the afterglow of their kiss. The very ozone around them was so tight and high with their nervousness and delight. They were drunk on each other. A harsh push from behind almost sent him to the dirty ground.

“Hey faggot, some of us got places to be!” The shout comes a man, built of narrow bones and thin, rigid muscles. He was completely decked out in red checked pants and a tight brown printed button up. His eyes were completely blocked by large, dark sunglasses. For a second, Dizzee stops breathing. His head snaps around and his eyes darken with grief before he puts on a cordial smile.

“Hey man. It’s all cool. It’s all cool,” he countered. The older man wipes his hands on his pants and swerves around him smoothly.

Dizzee’s feet move lethargically, as the sheen of tears forced him to blink. If only this hot place could speak with the language of love. But it’s too much of a slaughterhouse to hearts like mine, he thinks to himself as he carries forward to the subway. How can I fly if I’m always picking myself up and need patch my own wings?

Again, Dizzee enter the darkness, leaving the sunshine hanging between the horizon and the Bronx’s smog painted skyline.

Like an unnatural cave, the subway station smells of urine, trash and the pungent funk of sweaty, sour bodies. He could feel the odor crawling over his still warm flesh, cementing itself to his clothes like expired perfume. His lungs struggled to expand as the sounds fluctuated in intensity around him. The clicking of a woman’s heels stood out first, like shrill punctuation. He could see the sound. It was red and bloody and mature. He could hear the swoosh of the doors opening, suddenly reminding him that he had some were to be. The counterfeit lightning flickered above, making Dizzee picture the ceiling being filled with fireflies and dimming flashbulbs.

For an instant he could feel his jaw slacken and his body calm before he came back to into himself. His bag bounced against his hip as he slipped deeper into the crowds. As Dizzee weaved with confidence through the tightly paced space, the dark stains on the ground swirled into lively pastel colors between the feet of his fellow patrons. In the empty space across the tracks Dizzee could see what looked like steam curling up from the railways. The graffiti on the pillars wiggled, jerked and twitched whenever Dizzee glanced their way. He felt less like himself but he could appreciate his world without judgment. He easily pictured himself as an alien among a new species, like shades of himself, walking across the surface of his consciousness. Dizzee pulled a thick marker out his bag, and rolled it in between his palms. It helped him think.

“To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man,” yells a homeless man, wearing grungy khaki pants and a large cross pendent, laid out beside a pillar. Dizzee examines his face, noticing how his wrinkles appear to thaw like ice cream and slip into a younger mask, one lacking pain and weariness. Looking to his left, he spots a couple trying to discover each other with hands, eyes and finger tips. The two were are molded to each other like wet clay. With every second, they appeared to grow big and bigger until he finally walked toward them, passing silently, only for them to expand in details before they started to shrink back down to nothing but star dust and ash.

Every thing around him seemed to slow down, and pulse, as his train came into the station. His breath stops. When the doors slid open, and he immediately sees himself reflected in the scratched up windows. He looked sad. His faced shifting and appeared to liquefy then suddenly snap back into shape. Shaking his head, he stepped on. Looking around he found an empty seat and leaned back, happy to feel the cool metal and plastic against his skin.

The train wasn’t too crowed and the chatter of the passengers wasn’t too loud. The inside of the car was coated with thick lines of graffiti. Bubble letters and sharp words were stacked on top of each other, overlapping and dancing on the walls. Dizzee watched them. There was a pale girl sitting across from him. Her thick unruly hair was pulled into a side pony tail, and sprinkled with steel gray bobby pins. Dizzee noticed that the cover of her book was in Spanish.

He secretly admired the shapeliness of her thighs in her bellbottoms, and wondered if they were soft and doughy in the tight denim. Farther down, a group of kids laughed and joked, poking each other and sliding in the seats. Laughter is so pure, he thinks, giggling to himself. One kid split off from the group, walking over to Dizzee.

“Hey, wanna piece of candy? We got extra,” he says. The boy looked older than his friends, about 10 or 11 years old. He wore a pair of bright white knee socks and a too-small tee shirt.

“Yeah, little man. I’ll take a piece. Thanks,” answers Dizzee, as a Sugar Daddy sucker fell into his palm. The boy reaches out and pats Dizzee’s large afro.

The boy nods his head, like he’s agreeing with himself about something and grins, bopping back to his friends. Dizzee looked down at the candy, studying the waxy paper like it held the answers to the universe. Opening it slowly, he relished the sugary smell of the caramel. He leisurely put it in his mouth. It tasted like the sweetest thing in the entire world and it was like time slowed down, allowing him to apprise the different textures of the treat. He could feel his tongue and cheeks maneuvering over the thin layer sticking to his molars, and with great effort, he felt it release and get pushed to the back of his mouth.

The train continued to move for what felt like hours. Reaching into his bag, Dizzee pulled out his sketch book. Unlike the one for his signatures, it was worn around the edges and the cover was held on with thick strips of duct tape. He flipped past Rumi quotes, original poems, and realistic portraits. His brothers have only see his train burners. He would never expose them to his realer stuff, fearing critique and laughter. People prefer you exist as they have always expected you too, never stepping out of those lines, he thinks.

He pauses on the parts were pages have been ripped out. Those are the one he tries to hide even from himself, tucking them away in the attic with his cans of Krylon, waiting until the day he felt brave enough to see those thoughts in the light of day.

Dizzee pulls out a box of pencils a starts to sketch, his lines fine and delicate. Inside of him lies a door that he keeps locked. He starts to draw the alien in the top hat, feeling the shallow grooves in the paper were the pulp dried loosely. What is it you fear the most, he asks himself quietly? Rejection? Reality? Don’t they say the truth will set you free? What is my truth? I don’t have the answer to that yet for I am but a pilgrim still, he finishes.

The intercom crackles with static. A grainy voice announces Dizzee’s stop as next. Quickly placing his things back in his bag, Dizzee stands ready to pass the threshold. Looking around the car one more time, he casts his gaze toward the girl and the kids and the wiggling graffiti. His face appears vacant. The doors slide open and he moves forward. Swoosh.

The platform was bustling with people but Dizzee ignored them and headed for the stairs. Exiting the tunnel, he could smell rain and steam. The sky was still bright blue, but the ground was littered with wet trash and oily puddles. Each puddle is made of a thousand rain drops, each one holds a story of its journey, he thought, staring down as he walked. The sounds of passing cars pulled him out of his thoughts once again. On a small stoop he spots a beautiful couple kissing. They were both so beautiful, and intriguing. The woman had long, thick dreadlocks, and wore a loose lavender sundress. The man had dark cocoa brown skin that appeared to glowed in the light. He was all hard lines and tough muscles. She was soft, supple and yearning. Her feet were bare, and her toes were painted a cool shade of turquoise.

Could I hold her like that? Would she lay, soft sides exposed in my arms? What does she smell like, paprika and chocolate or sugar cane and lemonade? I would love to feel her nimble fingers rooming through my kinky curls, he thinks. Suddenly his focus shifts.

What if I was her, he thinks, his chest tight with apprehension. Would he feel just as solid as he looks? My hands would pass gently over his swollen arms and come to rest on the nape of his neck. Would his mustache tickle? Would I enjoy the texture of his chest hair against my own body?

Dizzee looks away suddenly feeling ashamed of himself. These are the thoughts he tries to purge onto paper and put under lock and key. But maybe they aren’t bad thoughts. Maybe they are just a different side of himself, a side that has always been there. Like the shadow behind his smiles, it’s just a part of him that he doesn’t quite know yet.

Dizzee keeps walking, priding himself on only looking back at the beautiful couple once. The giver or the receiver. He could be both with ease. He would fit either role. He could trade places with many characters of love. Again, he thinks of Thor and breaths deeply.

Dizzee continues walking, and decides to cut through a small park on a whim. Any park in this city is a splendid oasis. It’s a break from the stone and steel. This particular park had several wide flower beds, smelling of pollen and infatuation. He saw pansies, daisies, rose bushes and many brightly colored tulips. Their petals were perky and healthy despite the intense heat of the summer. He walked unhurriedly through the greenery. Here he felt at peace. Unbound by his name, free from his sadness, and time.

A bee drifts into his line of sight and steals his attention. Dizzee’s mind split then, into a thousand multicolored fragments. Linking and unlinking, as the bee drifted to a daffodil. The flower had a masculine face, and the bee kissed its way down the style in the middle. Dizzee kneeled down on the path, waiting for it to emerge. When it did, it was covered in dusty, yellow powder. The bee danced and shook happily, bouncing back into the humid air. Dizzee followed its journey closely, still kneeling. The bee took off toward a daisy. This time its face was lady-like, and landed gently on its cheeks. The bee kissed this one too. The yellow dust sticking to it again, thick and bright.

Here in this garden, Dizzee accepted himself. He was like a bee. I have seen your descent, dear garden bee, he spoke to himself, now I will watch you rising, for love is like a water. Who decided if the pond or the river is more fit to taste? Men. Women. Men. Women. Men. Both. Feelings.

Dizzee grinned and continued walking through the twisting path. Eventually the foliage gave way to the hard concrete of the city. Back on the sidewalk, Dizzee continued toward The Writer’s Bench. He past several store fronts. Some of the signs painted in windows, and others were brightly printed on cloth. Trash stuck in wet, ugly clumps in the gutter. He was passing a window that had posters advertising hair products when he noticed a panel of vivid colors. Nail polish.

Glancing down at his hands and saw that almost all of his was gone. Dizzee’s own blank nails were pale, even ovals. Why not start over, he thought to himself, opening the door.

The space wasn’t very big, but it was packed full of inventory. Dizzee’s eyes skimmed over the many shelves and counters. He was impressed. It was like any art store, but instead of walls and canvas, they focused on bodies and hairstyle. Walking down the narrow isles he swept his finger tips over the stiff bottles and small jars.

“Hey honey, you lookin’ to buy? Or to browse?” came a rich voice from the back. Dizzee nearly jumped out of his skin. In the back isle, on a small wooden step ladder, stood a gorgeous man. Not beautiful in the way Dizzee had been uncovering, but in the conventional way women were. The man was tall and slender, like a dancer. His skin was a reddish brown and enhanced by tastefully applied cosmetics. Dizzee loved that his hair was stretched into lovely corkscrew coils down past his shoulders.

“Uh, I’m just looking around man,” Dizzee answered, try hard to make his voice sound relaxed.

The stunning man stepped down, spreading his arms flamboyantly.

“Welcome to the Beauty Emporium, a place that nurtures beauty, style and grace in every member of the human race,” he rhymed. This dynamic, showy man was amazing.  He sauntered toward Dizzee. The store was currently empty, so Dizzee was his only audience.

“Well, Honey, what are you looking for today?” he questioned. Dizzee stood awkwardly, feeling a mixture of fear and fascination, much like he did in the art gallery party nights ago. He held his bare nails up, shifting his messenger bag to his left shoulder.

“My hands are my tools, and I come here seeking an expression of new beginnings,” he answered, his voice cracking a bit.

The man walked until he stood in front of Dizzee, gently grabbing his hands. He turned them this way, and that several times.

“Honey, you are indeed a little work of art. You must be searching for some color in a world that’s not always so bright,” he finally said, taking in Dizzee’s androgynous features and clear complexion.

Dizzee rarely met people that understood exactly what he meant, and in such a short interaction.

“My name is Eugene,” said, letting go of Dizzee’s hands. He turned and walked behind another small counter. Eugene bent down and pulled out several glass bottles of polish and a smaller version of the chart in the window.

“I’m Dizzee.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Dizzee,” responded Eugene. “Take a look at this chart and see what catches your eye. Have you worn nail polish before?” the question standing out over the closing and opening of several drawers.

Dizzee stepped up to the glass counter and looked over the chart closely. “Um, only once? Is that okay? I mean I’m…,” Eugene had been watching him closely from the corner of his eyes and cut him off with a practiced eases.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to clarify,” Eugene said, shaking several of the little bottles jammed between his long fingers, much like Dizzee would rattle up his spray paints.

“We are all free to try out new things, or keep a single routine.” Eugene gestured to himself.

“You know, give the people something to look up to. I personally like to switch it up and keep it fresh. I like not being what people expect,” he proclaimed tugging on his dangling earrings with a smile. Eugene seats himself on a stool behind the counter, and does a little spin, chuckling.

Dizzee stared in awe. This soul is here for its own joy, he thought, and finally allows himself to unwind. “Yeah, that’s exactly how I try to be in my art. I spray all city, praying to uplift the people looking for the beauty in the insanity.”

“Graffiti? How fascinating. What are your favorite colors?” Dizzee considered his options, looking up from the chart, pointing to red, blue, and green.

“I wear these colors the most,” he answered. Eugene meet his eyes. “I thought this was about new beginnings. Why keep repeating the same old thing?”

Dizzee thought about Thor, the art party, and the bee. He thought about the alien in the top hat, his buttons and patches. He thought about boundaries, boxes and freedom. Finally, after what felt like years, he looked at Eugene. Brown eyes meeting, finely lined browner eyes.

“I think I’d like to wear yellow or purple,” he answers.

Eugene flips his curly hair, and undoes the top two buttons of gray and white flannel. “As an entertainer myself, I must ask that we go a little fancier. Your hands shall put on a show, a personal spectacle. I have Glittering Gold and Spirited Plum. Give me your hands love.” The names were a little showier than the actual merchandise but the names did make Dizzee smile.

Dizzee rested his hands out flat on the counter, and Eugene started painting. The store was still quiet but the sounds of the street crept in, muffled and subdued. The shop smelled like his mother, warm and comforting. The hum of the countertop fan was relaxing as well. Eugene seemed to understand that Dizzee was lost in thought and embraced the silence as well. Dizzee thought the polish smelled stronger than his aerosols. On trains Dizzee was free to spread his thoughts across the city without opening his mouth. There he was a living myth. When his trains pass, he feels accomplished and could breathe easy. His nails made him brave, and these colors made him feel beautiful too. Men. Women. Those tried of being what people expected them to always be. They should brave, beautiful and free.

“Now, sit with me for a few minutes and let these little beauties dry. I don’t want you rushing back into the streets and messing up all my good work,” Eugene said, capping the polishes.

“If I may be so forward,” Eugene asks with a smirk and twirl in his seat, “What else are you exploring today, besides new colors?”

Dizzee had hopped up on the counter, letting the artificial breeze from the fan cool his sweating face and was surprised to hear another question come his way. Thinking, he flexed his hands, observing how his thin tendons rolled beneath his tawny skin.

“I think I’m on a journey. I haven’t left the city limits, not physically any way, but my spirit is soaring to new heights. I met somebody. This somebody,” Dizzee pauses to sigh, “they make me want to be more than I thought I could ever be. And it’s new and scary and infinitely magnificent all at once.” Dizzee’s eyes began to water and he felt several tears dribble down his cheeks. Eugene leaned beside him, and reached one hand up, cupping Dizzee’s cheek. Using his manicured fingers, Eugene lightly he wiped away the tears.

Eugene shook his head. “Oh Dizzee. You poor, innocent thing. You’re just finding your wings. I know you are afraid. But when we come into this world, we are meant to learn. We don’t come out the womb complete and all knowing; otherwise, what’s the point? I’m going to try and meet you where you are.”

Dizzee wiped his nose on his wrist and sniffled, carful not to pull on his bracelets too much.

Eugene pulled Dizzee into a hug, then started pacing in the small space behind the counter.

“You can be driven by fear or by love. I want you to continue to embrace life, be art and love yourself. You are already beautiful. You are already at your destination because you’re where you are supposed to be. Don’t put any ideas on a pedestal or crawl through the world on your knees, hiding the parts of you that are Glittering Gold in the shadows. You should bloom, Dizzee. You do not need to earn freedom. Just breath and shed tears of healing, not fear.”

Dizzee looked a Eugene like he was preaching the gospel. This man was a beautiful angel. Dizzee understood that Eugene was different, different like birds of the art show party, that kind of different. Dizzee saw a light in this man, that also glowed in himself. And that was great thing.

He who cannot discover himself, cannot discover the world, Dizzee thought to himself. The two of them shared this moment, acknowledging the depth of their conversation with smiles. They shared a synchronized inhale and exhale, allowing their emotions to settle without force.

Dizzee looked again at his nails. Glittering Gold and Spirited Plum. New beginnings. New wings. Freedom to breath and just be. Dizzee could do that. He could see himself as the light, not just in it.

 

“Hey man, that was really deep. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my chest,” Dizzee says, watching Eugene as he straightened up one of the messier shelves. Dizzee rarely tells people how he feels, preferring to keep things to himself.

“That’s good to hear honey. I know we just met but I’m glad I could but you at ease,” Eugene answered. Eugene, too felt much lighter knowing his words helped somebody.

“Now come here. Let’s see if them nails are dry. It usually takes longer because of the humidity, but we’ll find out together.” Dizzee hops down, careful to hold his hands way from his body. Eugene, again, takes Dizzee’s hands in his, turning them over and holding them toward the light.

“Well, honey, their all dry. I won’t keep you much longer but I do want to give you some free samples,” Eugen says as he steps back behind the counter, this time walking closer to the register.

“Oh no that’s okay. I have money to pay,” Dizzee starts, reaching into his pockets for the few dollars he kept on him. He was happy the the colors they’d chosen, and looked forward to coming back for more.

“It’s fine honey. Think of it as my treat, from one artist to another,” Eugen replies with another secret smile, “And hopefully, I’ve also made you into a new regular Mr. Dizzee.”

“Definitely,” Dizzee answered. Eugene pulled out a small red bag and put in five small bottles of nail polish. They clinked and clacked together as they were passed over to Dizzee, who accepted them with an easy grin. My spirit is opening a new door, he thought, and what if the wall is an illusion?

Eugene pulled Dizzee into a quick hug and walked him over to the door. “Don’t be afraid to come back Dizzee.”

“I look forward to it,” replied Dizzee, stepping out the door. The hanging bell rang behind him.

The street was just as busy as it was when he entered the Beauty Emporium, but Dizzee barely noticed as he continued his walk toward The Writer’s Bench. The tab of LSD was losing its effect but Dizzee continued to notice the roses among the figurative thorns of the Bronx. Women gather in small groups, gossiping and laughing. They had wide smiles and sparkling eyes. Kids splashed joyfully in the cold spray of an open hydrant. They were all soaking wet, slipping and dipping, and their curls were kinking almost instantly. Dizzee smiled and ran though the spray, playful waving his hands in the air. He truly felt his sadness being washed away.

After a few more minutes, Dizzee started to descended the stairs into subway. He traded hellos and hand shakes with a few guys chilling on the dirty steps. They were the keepers of the gates. They were an eccentric group archangels with nothing better to do, especially now that school was out. They watched for any police coming to harass suspected writers. The best look outs.

The subway here was still dirty, the most common colors being brown and gray in the dim light but the artist managed to be pinpoints of color. They each had spirited personalities. They all had something to share or to prove in this area that feed on the dreams of it youth. As Dizzee approached the bench he held his breath. These were his compatriots in the ongoing creative struggle. Yet, with them I still feel alone, Dizzee thinks.

The Writer’s Bench was buzzing with conversation. Kids were discussing the importance of color and how certain textures effect its shine. The older artists were talking about the legal crack down on those that carry the Krylon cans. Each voice was full of emotion. Dizzee learned so much here. It’s here that we create our own purpose, he thinks.

“Aye, Rumi. What’s up man? I thought you had gone ghost,” said Crash, standing to exchange a hand shake with Dizzee. Crash was a cool white guy with a great style. And were there was Crash, his friend Daze wasn’t far way. To many artists they were known as the Chill 2. Unlike Dizzee, they didn’t spray all city, instead choose to focus on claiming the Bronx and Manhattan as main their street galleries. Dizzee loved that they were a harmonizing team of bright paints, bubble letters and wild style.

“Nah man, just working on some new ideas,” answered Dizzee, swinging his bag over his shoulder and sitting down. The wood of The Writer’s Bench was engraved with the names of its most regular visitors, curse words and boughs. Dizzee ran his fingers over the chiseled grooves, imagining the tools that made them. Pens. Knifes. Razor Blades. Pencils. Your weapon of choice reflects a bit of who you were, Dizzee thought.

“Mind sharing what you’re planning? We saw that last burner you put out. Pure greatness,” Daze said. Daze pushed his glasses up his nose. His brown skin appeared dewy in the heat of the subway station.

Dizzee took in their excited expressions, trying to decide if he should tell them the truth or a beautiful lie.  

Starbucks II

<-[previous]
(h2omini)

.

Craig is standing outside the front door, a large bouquet of flowers obscuring his face as he tries to work up the strength to go inside.

There are a lot more people milling around inside the Starbucks today than there were late last night. And just thinking about walking in front of all of them, carrying his bundle of daises and daffodils up to Delirious (Jonathan, his mind gently corrects) and asking the question that’s been burning a hole in his brain all day has his nerves running rampant.

“Will you go out with me?”

Keep reading

The Nanny Ch.7

Fandom: BIGBANG/ Choi Seung Hyun

Synopsis: The Cookie Invasion pt.2

Warnings: None for this chapter, perhaps later

Author’s Note: Fluffiness ahead! I <3 this chapter!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This story contains fictional representations of real people. None of the events are true. This is from an American standpoint, so some of the situations may not happen the same way they might in Korea. I make no money from the writing of this fictional work.

Chapter Masterlist


The day after Ji Yong’s surprise visit and cookie making session had been a completely normal day. Wednesday, however, was a totally different story.

About 30 minutes after Yeon Jun had already left for the day, the doorbell rang. You were just coming back downstairs after changing out of your uniform. Now you were wearing jeans and a t-shirt. You had also let your hair down into a low ponytail. After chasing a five year old all day, all you wanted was to be comfortable.

This time when you opened the door, there was an incredibly athletic looking man on the other side. He was dressed similarly to the way Ji Yong had been, but this style was less high end fashion. He wore a tight black t-shirt, ripped jeans and sneakers.

Keep reading

A promise is a promise - Owen Grady imagine

Warnings: violence, cursing, more violence, yelling, abusive relationship.

 Words: 3k (ish) sorry for it being super long




- I can’t believe you ! After all I’ve done for you ! You dare stab me in the back ?-  John said walking towards you with fury in his eyes

- I didn’t do anyth- you tried but were soon cut off with more yelling

- You fucking whore. You dare lie to my face. - he roared slamming you against a wall 

- I swear he was just a drunk customer, you saw - you stuttered finding it hard to keep your breathing steady. You knew he was the jealous type but this took you completely off guard.

- I know damn fucking well what I saw. -

- Please, just listen to -  a searing pain shot up your left side as his knuckles met your cheek. He took a fistful of your hair and dragged you up from the floor.You let out a scream.

- Do you want more? - his eyes were looking right into yours.

- Stop - your whimper was met with another punch. You felt blood drip from your cheekbone.

This is all your fault - his yelling has turned to whispering - I must teach you a lesson - He grabbed your arm and dragged you to his jeep. -it is your fault after all - he repeated as he got on to the road- you must be taught a lesson- his arms were shaking -you understand, right? You understand why I’m doing this? - his face showed madness as he turned to look at you. With tears leaking from your eyes, you nodded. He was crazy. Absolutely mad. You needed to get away from him. Now. He smiled at you lovingly and turned his eyes back on the road. His right hand moved towards you and you breathed in sharply, but he only turned on the radio. 

“If you like pina coladas
And getting caught in the rain”
-he sang along

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

-Why are we at the raptor pen ? - you thought looking around you 

He dragged you out of the jeep with ease .  - Its time you see where I work , don’t you think ? - this time he didn’t wait for an answer . - Its only fair, wouldn’t you say. I’ve been in margarita ville many times. - he pressed some buttons and the gates opened. -You will love them I’m sure- he said grinning. 

Your eyes widened as you realized what he was planning. You tried to sprint away but his grip was iron. He grabbed your shoulders and threw you in. By the time you turned around the gates were already closed. You knew screaming for help was not an option since it would only alert the raptors. You could only hope they weren’t awakened by the gates. 

- Wakey wakey, I have a present for you - he yelled banging his fists on the gate. 

- Stop, let me out , be quiet, please - you yelled at him. It was a bit counter productive, true. But you were panicking .His eyes shone and he smiled wickedly.

You turned around slowly and sure enough there they were.Three pairs of eyes staring at you.You thought about running but then decided against it. Today was your day. It was as good of way of dying as any. Plus your legs felt numb and you felt like any attempt at walking would not only end in death(that was inevitable ) but also with your face in the mud. And that would be embarrassing to say the least.

Another pair of eyes emerged from the trees. The newly awaken raptor ran towards the pack and joined them. The one in the front let out a growl. As a sob escaped you the new raptor turned his head, almost looking curious.

“What the hell is happening here?!”- a man yelled and the raptors snapped their heads towards the voice. 

You didn’t dare turn around so instead you stood there biting your lip trying to keep from making any noise.The closest raptor turned her head back towards you.

-Eyes on me- the voice spoke again and the raptors head was back on the man (or maybe it was a very manly sounding woman.)

The gate opened and the raptors roared once more.
Don’t give me that look blue - the man said  - Stay back - he said holding his arms out. - Good. Good. - giving them one last look he grabbed your forearm and pushed you out through the gate - The button - he said pointing towards it without breaking eye contact with the raptors.

You slowly walked towards it still shaking severely and hit it as hard as you could manage. Which turned out to be not hard at all. The gates closed all the same but not before the guy rolled underneath .Your legs gave out underneath you and you greeted the floor.

  - What the hell were you thinking -he said turning to face first you and then your boyfriend. Noticing the blood on your face he furrowed his brow.

- Look, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here, I’m sorry we disturbed you.-

- Disturbed me? Are you serious ? You almost died- the last part he yelled out at you

- Grady, its okay, she just needed to be taught a lesson.I work here. Its all good. -

- A lesson? - he looked at you once more and then back at him.

- Yes. She cheated on me you see. I’m sure you know what’s its like. Owen. May I call you Owen? -

In response to that he turned around and threw a punch straight to your (now ex)boyfriend’s face knocking him to the ground.

- You’re officially fired. -

- It’s okay - he said walking towards you slowly. When you let out a sob he kneeled down to your level -I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise -he said giving you his hand which you gladly took. Hanging on to his shirt with all your might you stood up together. 

- What’s your problem man? Get the fuck off my girlfriend. Y/N in the jeep. NOW- your ex boyfriend said wiping the blood from his nose.

- Do you want to go with him ? - Owen looked down on your shaking figure as you managed a small no.

- She isn’t going anywhere with you, other than court maybe. - he said his face hard.

- What ? Yes she is ! She is mine! Y/N get away from him now and get in the jeep. - in response you only held on tighter, balling his shirt in your fists.

- You fucking bitch! I will fucking kill y- 

- Do I need to get my gun? - Owen said calmly but his eyes held murder.

- Come on man, this doesn’t have to be personal.- he said , panic evident in his voice. The two held each others eye contact for a minute and then Owen moved towards his hut and John sprinted away.

He held you like that for a while until your sobbing stopped and your shaking reduced. 

- I live with him - you whispered. There were many benches in the park, surely one of them would be comfortable enough.

- You’re coming with me, there is no way I’m letting you face him alone. He almost got you killed. Crazy mother fucker.- he said shaking his head 

Following his lead, you got onto the motorcycle holding onto Owens back for dear life .

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<


-Its not big or anything , but its cozy- he said as you pulled up next to his bungalow- sorry if its messy, I wasn’t expecting anyone - he scratched his neck awkwardly glancing at the amount of papers messily scattered on top the table. The dishes were pilled up high in the sink and the sofa was surrounded by empty cans of beer.

You crossed your arms over your chest somehow feeling much safer that way. - I don’t mind, I’m the one intruding anyways. -

-Not an intruder. A guest .- he opened the fridge,- there isn’t much food- you leaned over so you could see what he had to offer. There was a lot of beer and the only edible thing was- got some leftover pizza- he turned to look at you - pepperoni. want some ? I can heat it up if you would like it mor- he would’ve kept rambling if you didn’t cut him off .

- I love pepperoni- you said reassuringly 

-Great- he visibly relaxed.

Honestly you preferred your pizza heated but considering all that has happened you couldn’t care less what kind of a pizza it was. Plus he was obviously worried about not having anything you could eat and you weren’t about to rain on his parade. Especially since he let you spend the night.

-Do you maybe have a shower?- you glanced down at your muddy attire.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Your showering was interrupted by a knock.

-Im gonna leave some clothes for you in front of the door-

- Oh, right, thanks - you yelled over the water. You put on your underwear and took the pile he left outside. You put on his shirt (which came to half your butt) but the shorts were way to huge for you. 

- Do you have any shorts that are a bit smaller ?- you yelled through the door.

- Umm, let me check - a long pause - yeah , I’ve got nothing, sorry.-

- Its fine - you stepped out in the T-shirt and headed for your pizza 

When you heard his foot steps you turned around and handed him the shorts. His eyes snapped to yours  when you turned, but you noticed his eyes were locked on your legs or maybe it was your butt (couldn’t blame him, your ass was pretty majestic)

You felt your face heat up  -shorts didn’t fit - you gave them to him

- I can see that - he smirked

You turned your attention back to the pizza. 

He sat across you - you seem familiar - 

- well that would probably be due to you meeting me earlier , in the raptor pen, you know where I almost died, I’m a bit offended you forgot - you grinned

- yeah, sorry, you weren’t all that memorable and I save people all the time - he played along 

You stared at him smiling and felt like he was an old friend. He was so relaxed and judgment free.

- Margaritaville -his face lit up - that’s where I saw you- he looked like a puppy who got a treat - you work there, right -

- I do, stalker - you laughed 

- hey, I go there a lot, plus who wouldn’t notice you ? - he said wiggling his eyebrows 

- that’s my cue - you got up and walked towards his bedroom - is that the only bed ?- he was nice and funny but you didn’t trust him that much. You had only met him after all. And considering what had just happened with John you obviously didnt have the best taste in men.

-Yeah, I’ll take the couch, don’t worry about it -

That made you feel bad, but you were really tired and the bed looked so soft.
- you sure its not a problem? - You prayed to all the gods that he would say no.

- the couch is super soft ,you don’t know what you’re missing- your prayers have been answered and you were right. It was the softest bed ever. 

- Good night - you said… you think

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

- Rise and shine - your boyfriend said

- I love you but if you say one more word you’re dead- you said turning away.

-Oh,we are on love already are we?- a voice that definitely didnt belong to John said. That did it. You were sitting up trying to find the closest thing you could defend your self against the intruder… only he wasn’t an intruder. If anything you were. One glance at his face and you let out a breath you didn’t remember holding .

- Owen… you scared the shit out of me - you relaxed

- Had to wake you up somehow,-he looked guilty - I didn’t want you to wake up in an empty house. I have to take care of the raptors. There is no food at the moment but I’ll bring it as soon as I’m back - that wasn’t right, he was avoiding your eyes.

- what is it?- 

- what do you mean ?-

- why won’t you look at me ? - you jumped of the bed and ran to the bathroom. You heard him behind you 

- its noth… I just…its not that bad-

You got your answer soon enough. One glance in the mirror made you wanna break it and cry and break something else. Yesterday you only had a couple of cuts, but now the bruising kicked in. You had handprints across your neck, your lip was swollen. The worst was the cheekbone. It had a couple of cuts across it but they were lost in mixture of red and blue and and sickening yellow.  

- not that bad, huh? -you sighed 

-sorry- from the way he looked you would’ve thought he had given them to you.

-Not your fault, if not for you I wouldn’t even have a face to look at.-you splashed water and took a paper towel trying to wash out the dried blood - I probably ruined your sheets- you felt awful. You were so ungrateful

-I couldn’t care less about the sheets- he was still concerned - you sure you’re gonna be fine here on your own, I’m sorry I have to go but hoskins is coming at 10 and by then I need to..- he didn’t finish his thought - but you don’t care about that. I gotta go. Sorry again- 

You cut him off - I’m gonna be fine. Thank you, for everything.- you smiled as he rushed out and got on his motorcycle. He waved as he took off and over the noise you heard something about you being beautiful.

- Dork - you said to no one in particular, chuckling.


<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<


You got a lot of concerned looks, both from the guests and your coworkers. You told one of them what happened and guessed that everyone knew by the end of your shift. At least no one bothered you. Plus your boss gave you a raise for being so determined and not calling sick. What he didn’t know is that you didn’t have much choice. 

You sent John a message yesterday (with the help of Owen) saying he had to pack his things and leave if he didn’t want to face charges (and as Owen added looking smug - his fist -)

The only thing he left was a note:
- good luck paying your bills now, bitch. Like you could afford to sue me. - 

He left the island, and you couldn’t be happier. The only thing was… he was right. You couldn’t afford this house, but it was too far from the margaritas shop anyways. You still had this month to pay hence why you were at work in the first place. You had a couple more days to gather the money and then find another place to live.


<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<


- He is probably home - you thought - why didn’t I text him - you mentally slapped yourself. The raptor paddock wasn’t buzzing with life, but it wasn’t empty like the last time. One of the guys that were on the catwalk walked up to you.

- Can I helped you mam? - he asked eying your bag with bottles of beer. You must’ve looked ridiculous. 

- umm,maybe? Do you know where I can find Owen?- 

For a second terror flashed on his face - sorry mam, but I don’t know whoever this Owen is, but he doesn’t work here - he started going backwards - and I’m sorry if he gave you the wrong number or left while you were sleeping or hurt you in some other way. But if I ever meet him I’ll tell him he is a douche and that he shouldn’t treat women like that.- he smiled reassuringly - now if you could please.

You were lucky it was pitch black outside cause you were certain you were red as a tomato

- No, I’m not… I’m his friend… just a friend. No screwing involved. Are you Barry ? 

He seemed surprised, you weren’t sure if that was because you knew his name or because you weren’t screwing Owen .- I was here yesterday so I know he works here and yeah. - you ended awkwardly 


- well, you did bring beer, so I guess Im letting you pass, here follow me -



- I got beer - you said as you opened the door to Owens office

  - y/n, what are you ? Beer ? - he looked at the bag in your hand - nice. - you sat on the chair opposite him 

- I brought pizza you know- he paused to take a drink - pepperoni, also some ice cream. -another sip- but you were gone 

- I had to go work - you made a grimace at the aftertaste of it - plus I didn’t want to overstay my welcome - 

- you’re always welcome if you bring beer - he wiggled his eyebrows - especially in my bungalow -


You talked for a while, mostly about the raptors. It was easy to tell he loved them. You could imagine him spoiling them with extra meat or cute raptor toys (do those exist?). After that he talked about this guy named hoskins who seemed like a total ass. He wasn’t at all happy about you returning to your house but you reassured him and told him about John leaving the island.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Tomorrow you came again, a bit later due to some asshat guests. This time you brought two beers for him and a somersby for yourself (you weren’t the biggest fan of beer)

You said hi to Barry(who still looked embarrassed about yesterday) and continued into Owens office.

-I got beer- you said cheerfully. He looked up at you and smiled

- Is this gonna become a tradition?-

- Only if you want it to be- you both drank in silence and for once it wasn’t awkward. You talked about the older couple who wouldn’t stop yelling at each other and everyone around them. You weren’t sure if he was staring cause he was listening or because he wasn’t.

- did you at least spit in their cocktail ?- he asked his eyes gleaming  

- mayhaps I did - you liked it when he laughed. He was one of those people who laughed with their whole body. Doubled over, shoulders rising and falling and slapping himself or sometimes others. You found it refreshing.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

It was pitch black outside and you were all alone . You welcomed the cold breeze, while he checked the time. 

-we got a bit carried away- you followed him to the gate , sat near it and continued talking. 

- you and the raptors didn’t have the best meeting, we should give them something else to remember you for.- he paused - they are probably sleeping no…- before he could finish a raptor emerged from the darkness.  - or not, this is Delta. Delta-he gestured toward you - Y/n

- I remember her, she was the one who didn’t seem as eager to eat me- she cooked its head to the side - I’m grateful for that-

- she is the least hostile, other than Charlie maybe, but Charlie usually gets distracted when hunting. And then there is also Blue -

- the one that was most intent on biting my head off - you interrupted 

- that would be blue. And last but not least we got echo. Blue and her used to fight a lot but they worked it out.- 

- Let’s see if delta is in the mood for petting - you approached the gate slowly. Owen raised his hand to pet her but she moved away. 


- seems like she isn’t - you laughed 

- Craaagh- delta cocked her head again and looked at you. Turning away from Owen she walked over to you and made the same noise… or maybe it was different… you didn’t speak raptor 

- what’s that supposed to mean - you were beyond confused 

- Craaagh - she put her snout thru the gates and touched your arm. 

-What the fu- you flinched backwards and looked at Owen - maybe she wants to eat me after all-
- Cragh
-what is she saying ?-


He looked starstruck- I think she wants YOU to pet her-

You raised your hand slowly and Delta kept her eyes on you.
-please don’t kill me- you whispered as your hand touched her scales. And then she purred ? 

- she likes you - he was impressed - a lot. More than Barry I’d say, and she likes Barry a lot. -

You stood there petting her for a while, mesmerized

 .


- I sold the house- you told him when delta decided to go to sleep -it was too expensive and too big and too far from work.I’m gonna stay in a hotel until all the apartment paperwork is done. I’m gonna roommate with one of my coworkers and the lot is right by margaritas. -

- I have a better proposal - you waited for him to elaborate - there is no way you can book a room this late. So I’ll go ahead and save you the trouble and offer you to stay at my bungalow, my only condition is… that you come to the raptor paddock again tomorrow. What do you say? - he held out a hand for you to shake all dramatically. And to your own surprise you did. 

- Deal -

You couldn’t see much of his face in the darkness but you would bet he was smiling like a toddler.

- well then what are you waiting for- he said jogging over to his motorcycle before you could change your mind -get on,and hold tight -


<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< 


3,2,1 GO ! - you yelled in unison as you took a shot. 

- oh, my god that’s nast..-you started 

- no time! Get another one !!! - Owen yelled panic in his eyes.

You were playing a drinking game Owen came up with. Needless to say it wasn’t super smart. You needed to take as many shots as fast as you could. You agreed to it because tequila had already been in your system and you felt like having some more.

- Go, go, go, go!!! - he cheered as you tried to get the tequila into a shot glass and failed 

- How bout we drink from the thingy instead? - you asked your words slurring together

-The bottle?- he asked and laughed at you - well you’re wasted - 

You couldn’t argue with that. He was drunk but you were hammered.
-The bottle it is - you yelled for no reason,you were a loud drunk. 

3,2,1,Gooooo!!!! - it burned your throat but made your soul feel nice. Like cuddling a 100 puppies.

-Do you want to buy puppies ?!- you weren’t sure you could walk so you took hold of his shirt with one hand and his bicep with the other.

- what, now ? - he was extremely hot up close, not that he wasn’t extremely hot from a distance… what were you talking about again ?

- let’s dance - you pushed some buttons on your phone and music came out (how cool is that?!?!?! )

He watched your swaying hips and swallowed, the fact that you were wearing his shirt wasn’t helping, and the fact you weren’t wearing pants definitely wasn’t helping.

-Come on, don’t be a party pooper- you said talking his hand and leading him to “dance”

You tried to teach him tango and salsa and polka but he was just rubbish (it had nothing to do with you falling every .2 seconds) 


- You suck - you said straddling him on the floor (after you fell on him and managed to drag him down with you , but that was obviously his fault) lowering your face to be inches from his you whispered - come catch me - and got up and ran towards what you though was the bedroom but seemed to be the kitchen.

 You heard him groan and say something about how you would be the death of him but payed him no mind. You exited the kitchen only to have Owen wrap his hands around your waist his head on your shoulder - caught you - he whispered and goose bumps ran down your neck.

- good job - you giggled and slipped from his hands and bolted to the bedroom (this time it wasn’t the kitchen ). You threw yourself on his bed and let out a soft moan at the softness. 

You turned around to see Owen standing in the doorway staring at your ass. He looked away quickly and cursed under his breath.

- I’m tired, come sleep with me - you grabbed his arm and dragged him to the bed but not before giggling at his surprised face. - not like that, raptor boy -

He was trying to be a gentleman and keep to his side of the bed but you really wanted cuddles. You turned around and faced him. He looked like he was in pain. 

- cuddle with me? - you put on your best puppy eyes

- you’re drunk - his voice was stern

- and so are you - you challenged

- I’m gonna go sleep on the sofa - before he could get up you grabbed his hand

- please stay. I know I’m drunk, and I get that you don’t like me like that. But just please don’t go, I don’t want to be alone- you let his arm slowly as he laid back down.

- If you want me to stay. I’ll stay - 

You smiled and turned your back towards him.
A hand snaked around your waist - and I do like you like that - he whispered as he pulled you in a tiny bit closer.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

You woke up to sunlight streaming through the curtained windows. You admired the chiseled???? Chest you were lying on. Wait, what ?

You tried to bolt upwards but were stopped by Owens hands holding onto you tightly. Instead you fell right back on his chest.

- what the f- he yelled throwing his hands off you and wincing at the loudness of his own voice. 

-shhhh - you whispered rolling of him and then rubbing your temples - when did you lose the shirt? - you said silently

- I was hot - he said, getting up from the bed slowly - I’m gonna get an aspirin, - he rubbed his temple - you want one -

- more like do I want ten -you grumbled pressing your head deeper into the pillow. You let yourself sneak one last glance at his back and groaned. He would be the death of you. Even tho you couldn’t think straight due to the constant hammering in your head, you knew one thing for certain.

You would be at the raptor paddock tomorrow.

 After all, you did promise.





Let me know if you have any requests, or questions, or corrections or if i haven’t written all the triggers i should’ve had.

Hey Angel Chapter 13

It’s been two weeks since you and Harry became official. It was weird though because you’re relationship had actually changed from what it was before. You two were closer, more connected somehow. You two also didn’t have to really hide anything, but you were still respectful when you were around Abby. There was a week break in between the last leg of the tour and the next, so you all were back in LA. 

So, far you haven’t had any issues with Simon since he had left for LA after you two had ran into each other those few weeks ago, but now that you were back home, you were afraid he might try something. You were getting ready to meet Harry at the park with Jackson and Ella. You two were going to go on a walk with the kids. 

You get Ella into the stroller and grab your things throwing them into bottom of the stroller and heading out the door. You walk to the park, since it’s near by, and you see Harry walking up already. 

“Y/N!” Jackson gasps seeing you first. He lets go of Harry’s hand so he can run over to you and Ella. He hugs your legs tightly and you smile. 

“Hi, buddy.” You smile. “How are you doing today?”

“Great!” He smiles before going over to Ella and kissing her head. 

“Wack-Wack!” She smiles reaching out for him. He smiles hugging her tightly. 

Harry finally catches up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Hey, baby.” He smiles giving you a quick kiss. 

“Hi.” you smile. “How was it sleeping back in your own bed?” 

“Amazing, although I definitely missed one thing.” He smirks. “You.” 

You laugh rolling your eyes. “I was just glad to have the bed to myself again.” you smirk at him. 

“Hey now! That’s just mean.” He says. 

You smirk and look down at Jackson. “Ready to go on our walk?”

“Yeah!!!” He giggles. “I even wear my new shoes!” He says showing them off. 

“Those are awesome! And they match your shirt!” You gasp. 

“Yep!” He smirks and starts walking, holding Ella’s hand. 

You smile and you all start walking. 

“Have you heard from Simon at all?” Harry whispers over to you. 

“No, thank god.” You say. 

“That’s good.” He says. “But uh, what if he does reach out to you. What would you do?” 

You sigh. “Honestly, I don’t know. It would definitely depend upon what he had to say to start off with. Then, I would just base where I go from there on that.” 

“What if he tells you he wants to see her.. see you?” He asks. 

“Look, if you’re worried that Simon would bring up him and I getting back together again, you have nothing to worry about. I don’t want to be with him. I don’t love him anymore and honestly, looking back I don’t think I ever really did love him.” You sigh. 

“It’s good to know.” He smiles. “That I don’t have to worry about someone trying to snatch you away.” He jokes. 

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, unless it’s like Nick Jonas or something.” You joke. 

Harry gasps dramatically looking over at you. You smirk kissing his cheek. He laughs taking your hand and lacing it with his. 

“And as far as him wanting to see Ella…” you sigh. “I don’t know… I know that has her father, she should see him and he should want to see her, but I just don’t want her to be around him whenever he feels like it, you know. I want her to know a father that is always in her life not just when it’s convenient. Like how you are with Jackson. He may not live with you 24/7, but you’re still in his life as much as you can be and he knows that. Ella deserves to have that.” 

“Yeah, she does.” Harry whispers looking down at Ella, who was giggling and smiling in the stroller. 

**

After the walk, you all go get some smoothies from the nearby shop before going back to the park and letting the kids run around. You and Harry sit down on a bench watching the two. 

“I love how close they are.” You smile. 

“I do too.” He smiles. “They’re like best friends. It’s so cute.” 

Harry isn’t paying attention at the moment, so you smirk and lean over taking a sip of his smoothie. 

“Hey!” He laughs. 

“What?” You say innocently. 

“I saw that!” He laughs. “How dare you drink some of my smoothie?”

“We’re official now, so that means I have rights to your smoothie anytime I want.” you joke. 

“Oh, does it now.” He smirks. “Then that means I also get to take some of yours.” He says leaning over. 

“Nope!” You smirk pushing him away gently. 

“But we’re supposed to share.” He smirks. 

“Nope.” You smirk. 

“Hey! I know ya!” You and Harry hear Jackson say. 

You both look over and see Simon talking to Jackson and Ella. 

“Shit!” You say quickly. 

Harry gets up following you as you both walk over to them. You pick up Ella, while Harry picks up Jackson. 

“What are you doing here?” You say to him. 

“I came to see you and Ella.” he says. 

“No.” You say. “You don’t just show up and expect it.” You say handing Ella to Harry. “Take the kids over to the bench.” you whisper. 

He looks at you reluctantly but does it anyway. 

“How did you know that we were even here?” you say. “Are you following us?” 

“No, I saw where you were on the internet.” He says. 

“Fuck.” You whisper. “That still doesn’t mean you can just show up!” You say. 

“Well, I figured if I called you wouldn’t answer!” He says. “I have a right to see my child!” He says. 

“No, you gave up that right over a year ago!” You say. “You’re the one who walked away. You’re the one who fucked someone else in every city that you’ve been too, while we were together! So, no don’t come at me and be like Oh I have a right to see her and just expect me to be like, of course Simon, you can see her anytime you want.” You say.   

“Fine if you want to be a bitch and keep my daughter away from then I’ll be contacting a lawyer!” He says getting close up to your face. 

“Oh, please do, because I’m sure they and a judge would love to hear about how absent you’ve been in her life and how much you don’t care!” you say. 

Simon just gets angry as he looks at you. “If you think that, that dick over there is going to take my place as her father, you have another thing coming.” he says getting closer to you. 

“Hey!” Harry says walking over, the kids standing behind him. “I think you better step back.” 

“And again what are you going to do?” Simon smirks. “Do you think you’re just going to be the father to my kid?” He asks. “Do you think that you’re just going waltz in start fucking my sloppy seconds?” 

“You better watch your mouth.” Harry says pointing to Simon. 

“Harry.” You say. 

“Yeah, listen to her. You don’t want to get what’s coming to you, if you put your hand in my face one more time.” He says. 

“Wow. Such an example.” Harry smirks. “If you really cared about your daughter, you wouldn’t act like this in front of her. What a great guy you are?” 

Simon glares at Harry as he just smirks at him. “Come on, baby.” Harry says looking over at you. “Let’s get the kids and head home.” 

Harry picks up Ella, while you grab Jackson’s hand and walk away, leaving Simon standing there alone, fuming. 

Sasuke’s Twentieth

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this wil be quite a long fic, but I hope that you find that it was worth sticking to the whole way. I wrote this in June when the idea popped into my head, and I figured it would be the perfect post for Sasuke’s birthday. If you do decide to keep with it until the end, do enjoy! It was a pleasure writing it, so I hope it will be a pleasure to read it!

The sun had barely begun to rise over the trees in the distance. Sakura rubbed her eyes before she opened them and adjusted to the dim light crawling in from her window. She allowed herself to lay in bed for a few moments longer, trying not to grow too excited. She stretched her limbs, sore from her training the afternoon before, Her arms and legs could have groaned with the gentle force of her stretches, but she continued until she knew there would be a hearty release at the end. She exhaled slowly, then pulled herself up.

The sky was just beginning to glow a dull pink, a sign of the morning light fighting through the darkness. Sakura had an ample amount of time to get ready, but she couldn’t help but move faster than shen normally would.

Today is not an ordinary summer day.

After she was done in the bathroom, the pink-haired girl fumbled through her dresser to find her typical civilian clothing: white capris with a light, pastel green shirt. Slinking into her outfit, she couldn’t help but remember the last time she was able to take a break from her daily missions and have the ability to wear civilian clothing: she was exhausted in the spring, absolutely fatigued. She had begged Kakashi to let her take any small mission for her Jounin rank to keep her mind off of the disappointing news that Sasuke would not return until late-July. She wanted her body to be busy so her mind would rest. All the missions were unavailable, she was training incessently, taking up extra hours at the hospital, trying to find friends that would take a break from their own schedules to keep her company.

But now, today is no ordinary day. It is July 23rd, and Sasuke Uchiha’s twentieth birthday. She and Naruto were able to convince him to come home and have a small celebration with him in the village, if only for a few hours. And a few hours is all Sakura needed, for any amount of time with him was enough to satisfy her.

She made her way to her apartment’s little closet and pulled out a gift no bigger than her palm. It was wrapped in a simple blue paper with a dainty white bow Sakura learned to tie herself. under the bow was a small paper that read his name, carefully written and made to look pristine. Sakura trailed her fingers along the box’s sides and sucked in a breath. Good luck, she told herself.

Sakura closed the closet door and grabbed her phone and the keys to the apartment. Just as she was leaving, she stole a glance at the first Team Seven picture they had taken together and the new Team Seven they took before Sasuke left on his journey. This time all of them were smiling and close together like a family. Looking at Sasuke’s face made her heart yearn louder in her chest, so she quickly left.

The village was still quiet outside, save for the first few chirps the morning birds sang. Sakura smiled to herself at the comfortig noise. She tried to slow her pace, reminding herself that Naruto probably was just getting ready, and decided to take the long way to the village gates.

Despite Sakura’s slow pace, she made it to the gates within thirty minutes. The sun was brightening at a surprisingly fast rate, expelling the clouds for it to burst into the scene. Sakura looked down at her phone instinctively, just as she received a brief text from Naruto: “Won’t make it to the gates, but will meet for dinner tonight. Errands.” Sakura smiled to herself, knowing all too well that Naruto had put some of his duties off. This both disappointed but excited Sakura; she would be the first to greet Sasuke and have the entire day to spend with him until tonight.

The two ninja watching the gate looked over at her curiously before their eyes flickered with recognition. “Ah, Sakura-san!”

She turned and waved to them politely before making her way towards them. She had forgotten their names; she had become somewhat well-known around the village since the war and found it difficult to keep up with everyone that greeted her. They asked why she was up so early in the morning, and she replied, “Well, someone very special to me is coming home today. I’m here to wait for him.”

“What a lucky man,” one said, resting his chin on his hand. His friend did the same and teased her gently, telling her good luck and so on.

Sakura smiled and made her way to a bench sitting under a shady tree. She took her place and waited. And waited. And waited.

Sakura looked at her phone to check the time frequently. Twenty minutes late. Forty minutes late. An hour late. Her heart grew saddened. She tried texting Naruto, but gained no response. Other shinobi left and entered the village to leave and return from their own missions. Before she knew it, she dozed off, exhausted from her training and constant missions.

As she slept, the shinobi watching the gates glanced at each other with concern. They made sure she was safe as she slept on the bench, but whispered, “She’s been sitting there for a few hours now.”

“Yes, it seems unusual, doesn’t it?”

“Do you think the man has already passed through the gates?”

“No, he definitely would have seen her sitting there, right?”

All the while, Sakura’s hands rested on her little blue box with the dainty white bow. She protected it as if it were her own heart. Even as she slept, however, Sakura had a disheartening feeling that churned in her stomach. Where are you, where are you, where are you?

She was jostled awake at two in the afternoon by the two shinobi watching the gates. She awoke, for an instant excitedly, but was quickly disappointed. They were changing shifts and just letting her know. Sakura rubbed her eyes and gave them a polite smile, one she had to forcefully grow on her face. She thanked them, they wished her good luck, and two new shinobi took their place as they walked off.

Sakura looked at her phone once more. One text from Naruto: “Busy, will call later.” She raised her eyes in surprise at the time. She had been sleeping for so long. Is it possible Sasuke came by but he didn’t see her? No, of course not. She was right in front of the gates. Just because he covers one eye doesn’t mean the other is blind. Sakura straightened herself and urged herself to stay awake.

2:45pm.

3:33pm.

4:52pm.

6:20pm.

The afternoon sun was beginning to lessen the burning heat on the village as it started to go down. Sakura was trying to remain hopeful until the sun began to set. She had wasted her entire day on the park bench only to find that her waiting effort was in vain. The two shinobi from this morning took their positions again at the post for the night shift and watched her when she stood up, her eyes downcast. She weakly held up her small blue box and ran her eyes over its dainty white bow.

He could have told me, Sakura thought, that he changed his mind. She closed her eyes tightly before her tears could escape and allowed the box to fall and rip its paper against the gravel road. Her heart ached in her chest as it beat a solemn rhythm. She turned her back to the gates and started her walk home alone.

Two hours later, with the sun already below the horizon and engulfed in the dark blue of the sky, a dark figure appeared to be running toward the gates. The two shinobi that spent their morning with Sakura first felt alarm alarm, but received no sign of a threat from the shinobi watching the forest. They squinted into the darkness. “Could that be…?” one asked the other.

Sasuke Uchiha huffed as he made his way to the village gates, a film of sweat covering his face. When he finally entered the village, he wiped the sweat away and looked instantly toward the bench where Sakura had been sitting hours earlier only to find it empty.

“Sasuke-san.”

The Uchiha turned to look at the gate guards. Before he had the chance to dismiss them, one reached behind his chair and pulled out a simple blue box with a ripped edge. On top was a dainty bow and a little card that read his name. “Where did you…,” Sasuke’s voice trailed off.

“Sakura-san was here all day,” the guard piped up, offering Sasuke the box. “She was meaning to give you this.”

Sasuke gently took the box from him and cradled it in his palm. He looked up at the shinobi. “Where is she now?” he asked quietly.

They shrugged. “She left just a few hours ago,” the other piped up, biting his lip nervously. He felt a little ball of sadness well up in his chest for the girl. They sat back in their chairs and watched as Sasuke examined the box further, thinking about where she could have gone. His phone had died, so there was no way to contact her that way.

Sasuke rested the box on the table in front of the shinobi. As he carefully lifted the little lid, all three of them peered into the box. Inside was a shiny silver key and what looked to be a red woven necklace that had intricate patterns and beading. Sasuke picked up the necklace and key.

“May I?” one of the shinobi said, pointing to a little note sitting within the box. Sasuke nodded. The shinobi pulled out the note and moved closer to the light that kept their station bright to read, “Sasuke-kun: I hope your travels went well and that you aren’t too tired. If you ever are, here’s a key to my apartment; you’re welcome anytime. I also made this necklace for you from silk that Ino taught me to cultivate from the silk worms that she nursed in her shop’s trees. I wove and dyed it myself. I hope you love it, and happy birthday.” The shinobi put the note back into the box and turned to look at the Uchiha man.

Sasuke put all of his focus on the silk necklace. Although they couldn’t see it, Sasuke had an intense amount of guilt building up in his chest.

“Sasuke-san?” one of the shinobi said carefully.

“Thank you,” Sasuke grunted, closing the box and putting it in his back pouch. He tightened his grip on the necklace and key. “I’ll find her,” he told them, but was mostly speaking to himself. The two shinobi exchanged amused glances, proud that they did their part. Sasuke pushed of the ground as hard as he could and ran in the direction of her apartment first.

The streets were not as crowded as they were during the day, making it easier for Sasuke to run through them. When he made it to Sakura’s apartment, he ran up the steps and knocked on the door loudly. No response. Sasuke then pushed his new key into the lock, twisted it, and opened the door carefully. He looked at the floor first and saw that Sakura’s shoes were missing. She wasn’t home.

Sasuke, cursing under his breath, closed and locked the door. He stuffed the key in his back pocket and turned to begin running toward her favorite dango shop. He pushed the cloth entrance and peered inside. The owners looked up and smiled at him, recognizing his face. “Oh, Sasuke-san!” the woman chirped.

“Was Sakura here?” he asked.

“She left about an hour ago, son.”

“Did she say where she was going?” he probed impatiently.

The woman shook her head. “No, unfortunately not. She was with the Uzumaki man, though, and walked down that way,” she nodded to the right.

Sasuke thanked her hurriedly and rushed out. The only thing in that direction that Sasuke would think Sakura would remotely want to be in…was the Hokage mountain. He sped off in the direction of the staircases engraved into the rock.

He passed many faces that recognized him, most of them being from his Academy days. He didn’t bother to acknowledge them, however. He was too focused on finding her, finding her, finding—

A hand reached out and jerked his poncho backward, causing a pull at his throat that startled him. He spun around to find Naruto’s bandaged arm gripping his cloak. “Sasuke, you idiot,” Naruto hissed. “Where the hell were you? Where the hell have you been?”

“Where is she?” Sasuke demanded, huffing.

“Sitting on Old-Lady-Tsunade’s head,” Naruto spat. “You really messed up, you know that? You really did.”

Sasuke was not in the mood for his friend’s griping, so he turned and ran towards the mountainside. Naruto shook his head at the sight of him, and only thought about Sakura’s broken expression when he found her. Her eyes were tired and her mouth seemed to weak to form a smile. She walked without a sense of direction and barely managed to say hello to him. Naruto tried to take her out to her favorite dango shop, but she refused to eat. Instead, he took her to the Hokage mountain and talked about what happened. In this case, what had failed to happen. Sakura had such high expectations, such high hopes. Naruto knew this visit home was not for himself, but for Sakura. No words were needed to exchange that fact. And now, Sakura was devastated. She wanted time alone, away from the friends she made time for so often recently, away from her errands, away from her patients, away from anyone and anything. Good luck, Naruto thought, giving the mountain one final glance before making his way to meet Hinata at Ichiraku’s.

As Sasuke was just about to hop from Sarutobi’s bust to the Fourth’s, his gaze locked on to the pink-hair that was being caressed by the cool night’s breeze. He had a moment of awe as he stood on the mountain, admiring her. Her legs dangled off of Tsunade’s forehead, allowing bare feet to swing to a tune only she could hear. Her face glowed with the lights of the village, radiating off of her like a mysterious being. Slowly, Sakura turned to face him. Her expression had him taken aback. Her eyes were swollen from her tears and her cheeks were splashed with red. Another crystal tear slid down her face as their eyes met. The happy woman he yearned to see was crying because of him.

Sakura wiped her cheek of the tear and sniffed. Sasuke jumped onto the Fourth, then on Tsunade. He was, now, but a few feet from her. Sakura pulled herself up to stand up and gave a little gasp when she saw her necklace in his hand. “Sasuke-kun—”

Sasuke took two long strides towards her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her into a tight embrace. Sakura gripped his cloak and breathed in his scent. “I’m sorry,” Sasuke whispered. He felt her tremble beneath his arm. He pulled back and looked into her reddened eyes. He strung the necklace around his neck before cradling her face in his hand. “Thank you,” he said. Although he was a man of few words and struggled with showing affection, he tried desperately to convey his apology and gratefuless.

His movements were stiff, for he was entering a whole new realm with his gestures of love. Sakura knew, though, that he was trying very hard.

She gave him a genuine smile that broke into a chuckle, then a laugh. Sasuke stared at her, confusion painted on his face. Sakura couldn’t stop laughing, however, until she held his face in her hands and stood on her toes to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. When she pulled back, the genuine smile that Sasuke admitted he loved to see returned. No words were needed between them to know that Sakura had forgiven him.

“Happy birthday, Sasuke-kun,” she whispered.

  • John: I'm gonna grab something to eat from the cafeteria. Anyone need anything?
  • Sherlock and Molly: *sneakily glance at each other and shake their heads no*
  • John: Okay, then. *leaves*
  • Sherlock: *waits a few seconds to be sure he's really gone* Finally! I thought he'd never leave!
  • Molly: *jumps into Sherlock's waiting arms and starts kissing him*
  • Sherlock: *pulls back* There isn't much time. I calculate we have exactly 8 minutes before he returns.
  • Molly: *smirks and hops onto a lab bench* *whispers into Sherlock's ear* Eight minutes will be more than enough, Sherlock.
  • Sherlock: *snogs her senseless*

What’s in a name? that which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet,” Ashton reads out, a smile gracing his features as he looks up at you. “Damn, Romeo really had a way with words.”

You roll your eyes at Ashton’s statement, taking a couple more pictures of the flowers and the trees in the garden before tugging on his hand. “Come on, we still have a lot of ground to cover.”

You and Ashton had made it your mission to explore at least half of Central Park that day but since Ashton stopped you for pictures almost every five minutes, it looked like it would take two days just to explore half of the park. But to be honest, you didn’t mind that much. You liked seeing him like this; how excited he would get over the simplest things like Shakespeare quotes next to flowers and-

“Why are those people staring at a bench?” Ashton whispers, nodding his head at the bench in question as you chuckle beside him.

“It’s called a whisper bench,” you explain, leading him down the steps and towards the group of people. “Two people sit on either end and because of the shape, the two of them can have a whispered conversation and their voices will sound like they’re sitting right next to each other.”

“Did you Google that this morning?” he asks, amusement evident in his voice since you actually had been looking at all of the “secret” parts of Central Park.

You scoff at his question, letting him lead you towards the bench once the group of people had left. “I learned that in a math class I took in high school, thank you very much.”

Ashton playfully shoves you to the other end of the bench before he sits down and leans back. The two of you make eye contact and he nods, so you hesitantly whisper, “Is this working?”

He jumps at your voice, not really believing that it would actually sound like you were talking right in his ear until it happened. He gives you a thumbs up so you urge him to whisper something back. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?/ Thou art more lovely and more temperate,” your boyfriend whispers, that one line being one of the few Shakespeare lines he knows.

“Okay Romeo, chill out,” you roll your eyes teasingly after getting over the initial excitement of the bench.

Ashton laughs at that, shaking his head as he says, “I hope I’m not Romeo because then that means you’re Juliet and we’ll die in like four days.”

With a sigh, you get up and take Ashton’s hand in yours, the two of you picking a random path to go down and hoping that it leads somewhere interesting. “Then I guess we better make the most of it, loverboy.”

Reasons to ship Camsten 2x01-2x05

Here’s the start of the “Reasons to ship Camsten” for season 2. I hope you all enjoy reading this and revisiting all the amazing moments Camsten shared so far (here’s to more amazing Camsten moments in the remaining episodes of season 2). Share this as much as possible to promote this awesome show called Stitchers. Watch the show every Tuesday at 10pm on Freeform, talk about the show, tell everyone why you love Stitchers so much by using the hashtage #StitchersFansVoice and let’s make a renewal happen! @lovelyair @girls-of-science @stitchedatbirth

2x01

-Kirsten can feel Cameron’s not dead and wants to come back.

-Kirsten having a complete meltdown down when it seems Cameron’s dying.

-Kirsten is SO relieved when Cameron’s revived.

-Cameron had a dream about Kirsten being an angel and himself being a hero (1x11).

-Concerned Kirsten in the hospital.

-Kirsten staying with Cameron in the hospital all night.

-Stitching into Cameron rebooted Kirsten.

-Kirsten’s never been more scared than while almost losing Cameron.

-Kirsten “Check out the testicals on Cameron 2.0.”

-Camsten high fiving.

-Concerned Kirsten while Cameron climbing buildings.

-Camsten 2.0

-They both already miss each other’s “old versions”. 

-Kirsten jumping in front of Cameron being tased.

-Cameron punching the guy who tased Kirsten.

-Camsten getting arrested together.

-Camsten on the bench moving close together

-Camsten smiles

-Kirsten telling Cameron they met when they were kids.

-Cameron apologizing for telling Kirsten her mom would be okay.

-Kirsten thought Cameron was very sweet to a scared little girl.

-Camsten getting their NSA badges.

-Cameron stopping the elevator to talk to Kirsten.

-Cameron upset about Kirsten thinking he lied to her.

-Kirsten upset about Cameron having secrets.

2x02

-The way Kirsten looks at Cameron on a motorcycle.

-Camsten on a motorcycle.

-Cameron has pictured him and Kirsten on a motorcycle before, and for the future.

-They’d be cruising down the high way.

-There won’t be wind in their hair cause they will be wearing helmets.

-Camsten laughs/smiles.

-Camsten pretending to be a couple.

-Cameron calling Kirsten Pumpkin.

-Kirsten calling Cameron Snookums and Muffin.

-Camsten motorcycle cuddling.

-Even the sales lady thinks Camsten is the hottest couple ever.

-Kirsten’s worried about Cameron buying a motorcycle/riding a motorcycle.

-Camsten phone conversation.

-Cameron immediately rushes to Kirsten’s place when he hears she’s being “arrested”.

-Cameron is Kirsten’s rider.

-Kirsten calling Cameron “baller”.

-Camsten discussing Ed.

-Kirsten smiling at Cameron not knowing what an I and D scan is.

-“Look how cute you two are. Your heads all close.”

-The second time Camsten’s assumed a couple: “Do you guys have a ship name yet?”

-No one believes Cameron doesn’t know what a ship name is. ;)

-Camille about Cameron “As we bid farewell to the wild one.” Kirsten “We’d better not.”

-Kirsten knows about Cameron’s super special black credit card.

-Camsten mocking each other’s new life policies.

-Cameron is convinced that Kirsten will find Ellie.

-Kirsten calling Cameron Agent Goodkin in interrogation.

-Kirsten calling Cameron a genius again.

2x03

-For every Camsten moment: the way they look at each other = perfection!

-Cameron being all sweet and considerate when asking Kirsten about her dad.

-Kirsten still sometimes being annoyed by Cameron’s jokes, love the faces she makes.

-The way Camsten can go from having a serious conversation to a joke to continuing there serious convo.

-Kirsten asking Cameron about his motorcycle plans.

-Cameron saying that he didn’t get it whilst Kirsten smiles in relief (worried Kirsten alert!)

-Kirsten being all worried when Cameron is a bad ass.

-Kirsten letting Cameron know he’s being too reckless: “What the hell were you thinking”.

-Kirsten warning Cameron to let Fisher do the chasing, which Maggie can her (so Cameron’s being benched).

-Kirsten whispering ‘I’m sorry’ to Cameron after he’s benched.

-Kirsten stepping in between Cameron and the police guy to not let it escalate.

-Their cop bar banter about Cameron wanting Kirsten to order a mojito for him.

-Cameron hesitating when Dr Blake asks them if they’re partners (that’s another bad guy who’s shipping Camsten!).

-Kirsten being awkward.

-Camsten likes each other ALWAYS instead of sometimes.

-Cameron quickly changing the subject to keep Dr Blake from asking more about them.

-Kirsten actually sees her and Cameron as a couple: “Did we ask for couples therapy?”

-Cameron ordering an mojito for Kirsten (haha!).

-Dr Blake thinks Cameron & Kirsten could have something wonderful together.

-THAT HUG! (x10.000!)

-Cameron is all right now that worried Kirsten hugs him. <3

-THE TALK (x a million) à the understanding, the looks, the worries, the caring – just everything! (see my post about the talk!)

-THE HOLDING HANDS!

2x04

-Kirsten knows caramel is Cameron’s favorite coffee flavor and insisting him to take the last one. Cameron’s being a gentleman by telling her she can have it.

-Even their awkward banter is cute (Fisher’s laughing at them).

-Cameron & Kirsten standing next to each other really close while Maggie’s giving instructions.

-They talk on a private channel at work.

-Cameron was so worried about Kirsten during the first stitch and immediately calms her down right after.

-Cameron wishes he got a hug from Kirsten instead of the guy at the supermarket.

-Cameron’s still the only person who Kirsten tells everything to about her dad.

-The ALMOST KISS.

-Cameron defending Kirsten to Linus! (Go Cam!)

-Cameron telling Linus he knows how Kirsten feels about him.

-Kirsten asking advice about when you know you love someone to Fisher = Kirsten trying to figure out if she LOVES Cameron.

-Cameron trying to talk to Kirsten about their almost kiss.

-Kirsten’s a little jealous while Cameron’s on the phone with Nina so she just continues the job.

-Cameron also asking Fisher for advice.

-Kirsten doesn’t want to lead Cameron on. Kirsten tries to do what’s best for Cameron by not making him wait.

-Kirsten NEVER said she didn’t have feelings for Cameron.

-Kirsten appreciates her friendship with Cameron so much that she doesn’t want things to be awkward, she really doesn’t wanna lose him.

-Cameron taking a step closer to Kirsten so that their faces are really close together.

-Their sad faces make us all heartbroken :(

-To be a good couple, being BEST FRIENDS is a great start! (They will be when Kirsten is ready!)

2x05

-Kirsten is the first who knew about Nina, of course.

-Kirsten “I already knew about Nina, so don’t worry. You know, I told Cameron not to wait around while I figured out my feelings, so… I can’t be mad. And I’m not.”

-Camille is 100% a Camsten shipper as well (telling Liam Kirsten is completely, completely over him, worrying if Kirsten knows about Nina, “You had him at hello”).

-How quickly Cameron says yes to Kirsten. (Kirsten really did have him at hello!)

-The way Cameron’s voice sounds when he agrees with Kirsten to do the Midnight Stitch.

-Other’s (Camille) steal their nicknames for each other (Cupcake).

-Banter about Hobbit feet.

-Kirsten knows if Cameron knew about her not remembering sleep walking, he’d never let her stitch.

-Cameron “Women are a lot harder to read than sine waves.” (And who walks in? Kirsten!)

-Cameron’s surprise when Kirsten grabs Fisher’s gun.

-Cameron worrying about Kirsten!!!

-CAMERON’S SPEECH!

-Cameron’s the only one who can talk Kirsten out of her ‘activation’/brainwashing.

-Cameron knows exactly what to say, and says exactly the right things.

-How many times Cameron calls Kirsten “Stretch”.

-Cameron to Kirsten “I know how strong your mind is okay? It’s one of the strongest minds that I have ever met.”

-Cameron’s willing to die for her again.

-Kirsten gets teary when Cameron mentions he died for her, and that’s when she comes back.

-Kirsten thanks Cameron for “saving her”.

-Cameron “We’ve been in each other’s minds. I know you better than you think.”

-Kirsten asking Cameron to do something that night. (ARGH! Cam, never say ‘no’ again!!!)

-After Cameron’s look is like ‘Did I really say no?’