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ijustwant2write · 4 years

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The Nice One-Fred Weasley x Muggle!Dursley!Reader

(GIF credit to @avocadosalad2)

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Requested by anonymous: 'I have this idea about Fred Weasley falling in love with Harry’s muggle cousin. a dursley. Maybe y/n and Harry were always really close and she obviously knows all about magic. She’s the only person, Harry actually loved and trusted as a child and that didn’t change when he found out he was wizard so there really close, he sees her as a sister. Maybe he wants to introduce her to ginny because Harry wants her approval. And reader ends up liking Fred, and Fred likes her back.'

Characters: Fred Weasley x Muggle!Dursley!Reader, Harry Potter x Muggle!Dursley!Reader (cousin), Weasley Family x Muggle!Dursley!Reader (platonic), Hermione Granger x Muggle!Dursley!Reader (Platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mention of neglect/child abuse, lots of fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sitting back in a plastic chair, I looked out of the huge window of the coffee shop, sighing as I realised it had started to rain. I never minded the rain really, but it had been like this since May, with no sign of a proper English summer in sight. Harry returning to the table with two mugs of tea distracted me, and I smiled as he set them on the table, sitting opposite to me.

“It feels like ages since we did this.” I said, blowing over the top of the tea.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I’ve not called or contacted you in any way recently.” he apologised, casting his eyes down.

“Harry, you don’t have to be sorry for anything.” I reassured him.“You’ve been making your life in...well, your world. We’ve all grown up, had to get used to becoming adults and such. Though it is a shame we haven’t seen each other for over a year.”

“Year and a half actually.”

“I wasn’t surprised when you invited me here though. Of course, this is under better circumstances. I’m not having to drag you out of the house to avoid my parents.”

“No, this is much nicer.” he chuckled.“How are they by the way? I was able to see Dudley last month.”

“They’re fine, same as always. I don’t see them as much as I should, though I do call them often. Sometimes it’s hard you know, especially after all that’s happened in the last few years.” I took a sip of tea, finally able to start drinking it.

Harry seemed hesitant to speak again.“Actually, I was wanting to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember me talking to you about a girl called Ginny?”

“Ooh, has my little cousin fallen in love?” I was teasing until I saw the genuine smile on his face.“Wait, Harry, do you really like this girl?”

“W-well...I h-have for a while, we actually told each other our feelings when, when other things turned serious. And it’s been going good between us, really good, which leads me to my question.”

I was confused as to where this was going, but waited for him to carry on.

“I was wondering if you would come meet her?”

“You want me to meet her?” I excitedly repeated.

“Yeah,” he smiled back,“there’s going to be a birthday party for me at her family home. She’s a Weasley.”

“Wait, isn’t that the last name of your friend Ron?”

“It is.”

“You’re dating your best friend’s sister?”

“I’ve already talked about it with him! Do you remember I stayed with him over that summer, and I wrote to you from there?”

“The Burrow!”

He nodded.“They’re more than happy to have you there.”

“Of course I’ll come Harry! For now, you have to tell me everything about this Ginny girl.”

The party was two weeks away, and I could not contain my excitement as it got closer and closer. Although Harry had told me much about the wizarding world, he was the only wizard I had ever met (unless I counted that giant man that had tracked us down when Harry first found out he possessed magic, though there weren’t any introductions), and I was extremely excited to meet more of them. Would they constantly be using magic? Would they just conjure up food and drink? And would they be comfortable with me there? I knew that Harry wouldn’t leave me alone unless I was one hundred percent comfortable with everyone.

It was surprising that Harry hadn’t become irritated with me on the day of his party. He was coming to pick me up, and I had greeted him with an over excited tone, setting off a party popper which made strings of confetti land on his head. I had never been able to celebrate Harry’s birthdays publicly, always sneaking into his room or under the cupboard to give him a small present and a hug to wish him happy birthday (once I was earning my own pocket money, or sweetly asking dad for a few pounds, I would buy him cupcakes as a birthday cake, stashing away sweets for him after he saw how much we were given). Dragging him into my flat, I demanded he close his eyes, dashing in and out of the kitchen with a stupid grin on my face. Counting down from three, I giggled as Harry opened his eyes, smiling when he saw me holding a cupcake with a candle in my hands.

"You didn't forget."

"Of course I didn't. Is it...is it alright?" I became worried, wondering if I had brought up bad memories.

"No, no, I actually missed this. It was one of the things I looked forward to each year."

He blew out the candle, sighing when I urged him to close his eyes and make a wish. Harry then pushed me to get a move on, his eyes widening when he saw me pick up two presents with wrapping paper, as well as a smaller one on top. I walked past him before he could say anything about them, handing him the keys to lock up.

As we turned up at the infamous Burrow, I couldn't help but stand back in awe. It was like nothing I had ever seen, and although shabby looking, very put together, it had some sort of charm to it, it was so different to other houses. Harry had already taken a few steps forward, stopping when he noticed me not move.

"(Y/N)?"

My eyes snapped back down to him."Oh, sorry."

"It's going to be fine." he said, coming to stand beside me.

I just nodded, walking next to him and standing back when he knocked on the door. A short woman opened it, squealing with excitement when she saw Harry, and as she dragged him in for a hug, she playfully scolded him for knocking, claiming that he could waltz in whenever. Staying outside, I poked my head in, still holding the presents in my arms. I watched as Harry was engulfed in numerous hugs, everyone wishing him happy birthday as well as joking and laughing with him. It shocked me. The only time I saw him this happy was when I was able to cheer him up as kids (and that was extremely hard to do when he lived in the hell hole I called home), but a sudden wave of emotion attacked me, I was so happy to see him being treated right.

"Everyone, this is my cousin, (Y/N)." Harry interrupted my thoughts once again, gesturing for me to step inside.

Sheepishly walking in, I held onto the presents a little tighter, smiling through the awkwardness. There were so many of them standing there.

"Here, let me take those from you love." a man who seemed to be the dad offered, placing the presents on a nearby table. Now I was out in the open.

"So this is the decent one?" one of the younger lads said to break the silence.

"Ronald Weasley, you mind your manners!" the woman scolded him."Don't mind him dear, it's lovely to meet you. Harry has never stopped talking about you."

"He's right though," Harry said,"this is the nice one."

"It's nice to see that Harry stayed in such a lovely place, and with lovely people."

Really (Y/N)? That's the first thing you come out with?

"Oh what a sweetheart." the woman gushed."Believe me, they look like angels, but they don't act like one."

Harry soon broke us into a general conversation, attempting to introduce me to everyone. This family was so different to mine. It felt more loving, as if they didn't hate to be around each other all the time. They included each other in every conversation, they laughed together, joked around with each other. And they also included me.

We were sat around a long table, squeezed amongst one another with food and drink laid out. I had Harry one side of me, and his old friend Hermione on my other. I believed that she and Ron had romantic connections, but I was hoping she would shed some light on Harry's love life, as Ginny was sat beside him.

"They've only recently become public. Everyone knew that they were together, it was bound to happen. But we all acted surprised anyway." Hermione and I giggled, drowned out by the sound of everyone talking.

"Oh bless him, he seemed very happy when he mentioned her. That's why he invited me actually, he was wondering what I would think about her. They don't seem to be able to keep their eyes off each other."

"Someone else seems to have their eyes on someone." she smirked.

I followed her eye line, seeing one of the twins looking in our direction before averting their gaze. I had remembered that they were each wearing the same jumper but with different colours, thankfully making it easier to tell them apart. It had been Fred looking my way, and I hated that I was blushing already; no one had looked at me like that for a long time.

"I'm sure that was nothing." I mumbled.

"If you say so." I heard Ginny say, making me whip my head round to her. She was leaning forward to look at me, and I saw Harry holding back a laugh.

"Come on, I haven't even spoken to him."

"Maybe you should. Perhaps this was meant to happen."

Molly stopped all chatter across the table, standing up to announce that it was present time. Heaps of presents were pushed down to our end of the table, Harry was shocked by how many there were, but stuck right in. After thanking all of the Weasley’s for their sweet presents, especially Ginny. With my presents left, I felt all eyes on me, nervous as to what they would think of my gifts.

One was a collection of books he read when he was younger (until my brother got angry at him and ripped out the pages), the other was two shirts I knew would look nice on him. The last present was a photo book, which I had had personalised; on the front it said ‘Harry’s Memories’, in a beautiful swirling style of writing. The toothy grin on his face fell slightly, and I began to panic again. Everyone waited for him to open the book, a slight tension in the air. Harry slowly opened the book, reading the message I had left for him in his head. It entailed fond memories we had, and how proud I was of him for setting out to school by himself, and how many times he was brave enough to put himself on the line for his friends and family. Turning the next page, a breathless laugh left his lips when he saw the photos I chose. Unfortunately there weren’t many of us together, or of him in general, but I had raided our old cameras back home to find any photos I had taken of him without my parent’s knowledge. After flipping over another page that turned out to be blank, he looked up at me, as did everyone else.

“It’s blank so that you can fill it. I knew you wouldn’t want memories of home, just...just me I suppose. But I’m sure you’ve got better memories to put in there now.” I shyly explained.

“This is amazing, thank you (Y/N).” Harry said, hugging me tightly.

“The pictures aren’t moving?” Ginny questioned.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.“Your pictures move?”

Once dinner was done with, along with a round of singing as the birthday cake came out, we all broke off into smaller groups. This would have given me an opportunity to speak to Ginny, I had a strong feeling that she was absolutely perfect for him, they seemed well matched, but I still wanted a chat at least. However, Harry had stolen her away, and it wasn’t the right time to intervene. As I thought about who to talk to, Fred walked up to me, leaning against the kitchen counter top as I was.

“Thought you looked a little lonely over here.” he said, but it wasn’t in a cocky way, he was being genuinely kind.

“Thanks.” I laughed.

He smiled.“I-I didn’t mean it like that.”

I looked up at him.“No I know what you meant. I was actually thanking you.”

“Ah.”

There was a moment of silence as neither of us were sure what to say next. Suddenly, something popped into my mind,“You know, I’ve seen you before.”

“What?”

“When you came to rescue Harry, in your flying car. I was in my room, but my room was next to Harry’s, so I could just about see you and your brothers.”

“That was so many years ago.”

I nodded.“I just remember how shocked I was when I saw the car, but also how relieved I felt when I saw Harry get in there. I was in trouble for not going to my parents straight away though.”

“You don’t sound like a typical Dursley at all.”

“I suppose I’m not. I was never the favourite, for some reason Dudley was. But I was so focused on keeping Harry somewhat happy that it didn’t matter. I just got good results at school, made friends and kept the biggest secret in the world.”

“It is slightly strange having a Muggle about.”

“How do you think I feel? The dishes are doing themselves over there!” I gestured to the sink where there was a floating plate and sponge. He laughed at that."That would be so useful to have at home, especially after a long day."

"So," he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning towards me,"what do you think about our families combining?"

I took a sip of my drink, following his eye line to Harry and Ginny."I can't express how happy I am for him."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I'm not just saying nice things because Ginny is your sister. Harry had a long talk about what happened in the past, he's mentioned her, well, all of you, a lot. You've all been able to give him much more than I have."

"That's not true. Harry has expressed multiple times how he didn't know what he would have done if you weren't there for him."

"Seems like everything has worked out perfectly in the end. It even feels right me being here."

"I can agree on that."

"Even if I'm a Muggle?"

"Can't say that's the first thing I noticed about you."

My eyes widened slightly, slowly looking down into the content of my cup."Fred, if I didn't know any better, I would say you were flirting with me."

"Thank god you noticed, thought I might have to start using pick up lines."

"You still can if you want to."

"Nah, think I'll save that for a first date."

"If you're asking, then the answer would be a yes."

"Well, glad that's been sorted."

I giggled quietly, trying not to show how much I was enjoying this."Do I get to find out where you're taking me?"

"If I'm honest, I wasn't sure if I would get this far."

We laughed together, catching the attention of his parents who were with Hermione and Ron. We quietened down, finding it hard to hold back on giggling. Before we could even continue speaking, Harry was approaching me, and I knew he wanted to find out what had happened since he left me alone.

"So, uh, what are you two talking about?" Harry failed to play dumb.

I rolled my eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder."OK, whilst you interrogate my date, I'll go talk to your girlfriend. Sound like a deal?"

"D-date?"

"Don't act like you weren't listening. Relax Harry, this is your party after all."

I heard him sigh to Fred as I walked away."You two are going to be trouble, I just know it."

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #harry potter x reader #harry potter one shot #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

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“I am not going to join your band”

Summary: You’re longtime best friends with Mitch Rowland and you’re in love with him. When he starts working with Harry you tag along and watch as Mitch falls in love with Sarah. But Harry watches them too and you realize you have each other.

A/N: Why is this lowkey a Mitch fanfic at the beginning OMG - i didn’t mean for it to be like that but it kind of reads that way. I will definitely be doing a part 2 I just wanted to kind of set the stage for what is to come (likely another three part kind of thing). NOT (really) PROOFREAD AND FEEDBACK MUCH APPRECIATED (I love hearing from you)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, otherwise this is just HS1 Studio FLUFF

Part 2

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All your life had been exceptionally boring. And you had no complaints. You were from a family with two parents, two siblings, and a pet. You went to public school and performed well, but never excelled in anything because you didn’t care to. You chose to go to college just an hour away from your hometown, a small liberal arts school. Your life was, by all accounts, average. You weren’t super popular and you weren’t bullied excessively around town. You just existed there.

The only thing, or person, rather, in your life that you really thought made it exceptional was Mitch. Mitch grew up next door to you when you were kids, he was a few years older but he didn’t mind hanging with you. You eventually became best friends and did everything together. Sneaking in through his window to play with his pet lizard when you were seven. Sneaking out with him to drive around in his car and drink stolen alcohol when you were sixteen. You did everything with Mitch. You thought he was your soulmate. While he was quiet with others and that sometimes freaked them out, you either enjoyed the silence or got to see his truly imaginative and beautiful personality.

Mitch was a musician all his life and you sat with him when he learned to play on his thrifted first ever guitar and attended every one of his high school rock band’s shows, even if that meant sneaking into a bar at fourteen.

Staying close to home wasn’t hard because that’s where Mitch was. Even if nothing ever had even remotely happened between you and Mitch, you held out hope. He had thought about it just once, if neither of you found anyone else it might be nice to have a family together, but he had dismissed it quickly. Mitch saw you as a little sister and loved having you as his best friend who he could tell anything to, but it was never going to be anything more for him.

So there you and Mitch were, living your little lives in Middle America, nothing to your names, but some average education, affordable apartments, and going-nowhere jobs. That is, until one day Mitch’s roommate called him up to ask if he could come play guitar for some musician’s album he was working on. The musician’s guitarist had called in sick and Mitch’s roommate had volunteered Mitch for the job. That’s when Mitch’s life changed, but what about yours?

It was heading into the second week of Mitch working on the musician’s album, who you had found out to be the famous Harry Styles. Mitch had come home after the first day and called you to come over. When you arrived, he told you how Harry and him had gotten along so well and Harry had invited him to keep coming back and playing on the album. You had never seen Mitch so excited and you were happy for him. You couldn’t help the twinge in your heart though when he kept bringing up someone named ‘Sarah’. She was apparently the drummer and had been very nice to Mitch, as well.

Now Mitch had this whole other life and you were sat there like what the hell am I supposed to do now? Then on that Saturday evening, after a long day in the studio for Mitch, he had come over to watch a movie and unwind with you, he asked if you wanted to tag along to the studio with him on Monday and see how it’s going. He was always telling you how cool everything was and you were quick to jump at the chance to both hang out with Mitch and see him doing what he loved.

On Monday, Mitch picked you up and drove you to the studio. When you got inside the building you were already amazed. The place was small, but so incredibly cool to you. You had never been to a real recording studio before and one of the things you and Mitch loved to do together was music - listening to it, playing it, buying it, so this was an unforgettable experience. Mitch walked through one of the bigger studios doors and the two of you entered the part of the studio that was where all the soundboards and tech was.

Harry, the man who had practically fallen in love with Mitch as well, was inside the room already. He turned to Mitch and beamed his large smile, his teeth a shiny white. You could tell why everyone in the world was in love with Harry just from that smile, it was truly an ‘award-winning smile’. “Mitch!” he exclaimed and gave him a tight hug. Mitch only smiled softly. When Harry pulled back his eyes flitted over to your figure standing just slightly behind Mitch. “You’ve brought a friend ‘round, that is so lovely!” he first said to Mitch and then turned back to you, “What is your name, love?” You extended your hand and said your name, Harry only glanced at your hand and then pulled you into a hug as well, a slightly less exuberant hug, but a hug nonetheless. You loved Mitch, but you didn’t understand how this bright and bubbly man had warmed up so quickly to Mitch’s quiet and solemn exterior.

Harry looked at Mitch with something in his eye you couldn’t quite place after the three of you chatted for awhile. “Well, you’re very lucky to have this man in your life, Y/N, he’s one of the best guitarists I’ve ever met, like, holy fuck, he is good.” You smiled at his praise for Mitch, and glanced adoringly at Mitch. Mitch only ducked his head at Harry’s enthusiastic praise. Whatever reasons Harry had for adoring Mitch, you were pretty sure it meant Mitch’s chance to get out of his old life, including you.

Then, it was time for them to get to work. Harry and Mitch had already written one song together, or at least Mitch had helped Harry to finish it. Today, Harry wanted the band to play it for the first time all together. Harry had told you to make yourself comfortable on the couch in the soundboard room. You watched as the band set up all of their equipment and you felt your ears burn when you saw Mitch talk to the woman you identified as Sarah. You didn’t want to be jealous, you hated feeling possessive over a man that you weren’t even with, but you just felt like you were watching Mitch slip from your life more and more as every moment passed.

The band started playing the opening chords of what Harry had called Woman when he said into his microphone, “Take 1...of many for Woman.” You smiled as you watched Mitch get into his guitar playing for the song, he sounded amazing. But as much as you liked to watch Mitch play, you couldn’t help but stare at Harry when he began to sing. He was talented, beyond talented, his voice sounded angelic to you. He grooved a bit to the instruments as he sang the lyrics. It was a beautiful song, you thought, wishing you could have someone write a song like that about you.

As the song reached over half way through, Mitch breaks into a rad guitar solo and for the first time since Harry began singing you looked back over to Mitch. That was kind of where the song ended, there was just a final time when Harry proclaims “Woman!” and it ends. You weren’t sure if it was normal to stand and applaud after a studio recording session, but you did anyway. You jumped up and down a little and clapped. The entire band smiled back at you and Harry leaned into the microphone, “Y/N, why don’t you come in here and join us?” You happily agreed and went into the adjoined room.

Harry told everyone to take a breather for about five, so the band was drinking water and chatting. When you got there you immediately belinned to Mitch and began to gush over how much you loved his solo and his playing throughout. Mitch talked in hushed tones back to you, saying where he thought he might speed up or slow down at parts. You didn’t notice Harry had walked up behind you and you jumped a bit at his voice. “Didn’t mean to give you a fright, love. How’d you think it sounded?” Harry inquired. You tilted your head to look up at him, while Mitch was perched on an amp, Harry stood tall beside you. “It was lovely, the lyrics were epic and I loved the beat of it. I was just telling Mitch how amazing his guitar solo was…” your cheeks brightening when you mentioned Mitch. Harry had some knowing smile again.

“You’ll have to thank Sarah for delivering that beat, however, Mitch and I wrote those lyrics,” Harry continued the conversation with you. You couldn’t believe how normal he was for being a world famous singer and boy band member - just a year ago. One Direction was a huge deal, yet here Harry was asking you how you’d liked the song and talking to you like you knew a thing or two about music. You and Harry talked about the song for a bit more, Mitch staying silent for almost the entirety of the conversation, you noticed his eyes wandered over to Sarah who was talking to Adam, the bassist. Then, it was time for Harry to listen to the song when the tech crew came back. When he did, he made notes for both the band and the tech crew and everyone got back to work. On the third go around of the song, you decided you were done giving them a round of applause.

They worked on Woman for half the day. When lunch time rolled around, Harry decided he was happy with how the song sounded, ‘good for now’ was all he said, obviously still not satisfied with how it sounded. During lunch you sat beside Mitch and across from Harry. The more you got to know Harry, the more you liked him. He was very playful and free spirited, but also took his passion very seriously and was endlessly grateful for the opportunities he had been given. As you warmed up to Harry, you noticed Mitch being a bit more animated. Had he been keeping his guard up because he wasn’t sure if you and Harry would get along?

There was still sometime before the break ended, but everyone had finished eating. You excused yourself to the bathroom, but when you came back, you saw Mitch occupied with Sarah. You looked helplessly on as he smiled and laughed with her. You felt left out as you really didn’t know anyone else but Mitch there. Sure you had gotten to know Harry a bit, but he was a rockstar and a guy you barely knew, you couldn’t just go up to him and ask to become your new best friend. Harry noticed you standing alone and walked up behind you, this time knowing to tap your shoulder to make you aware of his presence. You turned around at the touch you felt on your right shoulder, you were greeted with Harry’s bright eyes and soft smile. “Do you play any instruments?” Harry asked you. That’s random. “Eh, I can play some piano and guitar. I love piano, but I don’t keep up with it as much as I should.” “Well, you should keep coming here with Mitch. You could get some practice in, we’ve got a piano here somewhere,” Harry said as he raised his head and started to look dramatically around the room. “‘S right behind you,” you smiled at the man who had given Mitch a chance and now seemed to be giving you a chance, too. Harry whipped his head around, “Ahh…Well I’ll make sure it’s tuned for you for tomorrow.” You thanked him and the two of you began chatting about Harry’s visions for the album.

Three Weeks Later

“I am not joining your band, Harry, I’m not even that good of a piano player!” You threw your hands up. “Will you hush? You’re amazing, quit denying it,” Harry grinned as he pinned your arms down to your sides and flipped you around, “Now play exactly what you showed me earlier.” He marched you to the piano and plopped you into the accompanying stool. You huffed a sigh and placed your fingers on the keys. “You don’t even have piano on all-” “Ap, bahp, bahp! Plaayyy…” Harry cut you off and then added, “Please?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Such a baby.

You had been coming with Mitch to the studio for almost a month now. After your first day, Harry had retuned the idle piano for you and you had messed around with it when they weren’t recording. You and Harry had become closer over the time, he realized you were almost the female version of Mitch, but slightly less shy and slightly more opinionated. And you had realized that Harry was the kindest man you knew, only after Mitch. Mitch and Sarah had also become closer in the past three weeks. As much as it pained you to watch, you could never look away. The band and you started to go out every night and every night Mitch and Sarah always ended up sitting apart from everyone else wrapped in their own world. It hurt your heart so much, but you pushed through, happy to be around all the amazing people you had gotten to know. As well, whenever you were left alone, Harry always seemed to pop up, chatting about what was next for the album and what you had been doing on the piano earlier in the day.

Today, you had sought out Harry, wanting to show him something you’d been playing with since yesterday. When he heard what you played he brought up something he had mentioned a couple weeks ago, that you had thought was a joke, he wanted you to join the band - to play keys. You laughed it off, but Harry persisted. Now he was having you play the little random piece you had made up for everyone: the band and the crew. Your stomach was doing flips and your heart was in your throat. This was one of the main reasons you didn’t think you could be in Harry’s band, anxiety. It was minor, but you definitely had some - if your nerves in your physical body and your thoughts in your brain were any indication.

Finally, you began to play. It was the tune of what would become Sweet Creature. When you finished the early sound of it, there was silence. Sarah was the first to clap and then everyone followed quickly after. You ducked your head down and then looked up again with a smile on your face. It widened when you looked over at Harry and Mitch right by your side. You had never had people saying something of yours was great. Harry and Mitch stayed in the studio room with you, excited at the new prospect of a song. The album had reached a roadblock a couple days ago. Harry wasn’t liking any of the songs they were making and he was struggling to write any new ones. This, your art, was a breakthrough. After you had played, Mitch picked up one of the acoustic guitars laying around and began to play the same tune on the strings. Harry began to hum along. They twiddled with your tune a bit, but eventually they had to let it go for the time being. Lunch had ended and they still had to keep working on the other unfinished songs.

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pregnant-piggy · 4 years

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World Tour

Sirius Black x reader, band AU

Words: 12k

Written for @slytherinquill‘s writing challenge!

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write a band AU for so long now and here it is! I worked really hard on it and I so hope you like it!

Never in your whole life had you thought that you would get where you are right now; rushing through the airport with no one less than James Potter, the guitarist of the world famous band The Marauders.

You had been a fan of them for years, ever since they started. You watched them grow from little teenage boys doing covers on YouTube to the twenty-four year olds they were now, selling out arenas. The aforementioned James Potter and his electric guitar were a golden combination, Remus Lupin mastered the art of playing the bass, Peter Pettigrew never missed a single beat on the drums and then you had Sirius Black. Lead singer. He looked like how you would imagine one; thick, black hair, angelic bone structure, mysterious eyes and a voice like a child of the devil and an angel. To say that thousands of girls were just fan of him was an understatement.

Even you bore a little crush on him. But how could you not? The man was a god.

How you ever ended up in this situation was still vague to you. Not because you didn't know what had happened but because it all went so fast. Just a month ago you were still in your own apartment, plucking on your guitar, contemplating whether it was all worth it. You had been making music for years now and you had never had your big breakthrough. Though your friends and family told you that it would come and that you were a wonderful singer and your songs were amazing, you had been close to giving up. It was then that James reposted an Instagram video of you singing their song She's not mine and everything blew up. Your Instagram got a boost and the comments wouldn't stop. The Marauders' management hit you up, asked you to record a song with the men and a week later you were a big star.

The experience with the four men in the studio was something you had never done before. You wrote your songs in the safety of your bedroom, where all the failed ones never left. Now you suddenly had been surrounded by four professional artists plus another three songwriters. The song was written in three days, the title Don’t rush assigned to it, and recorded in two. The sixth day was a day for rest, that you had spent at Remus' house with him and Peter. You had gotten to know the men better. You had learned that James had an obvious crush on the manager's assistant, Lily, that Peter lived with his parents because he didn't see the need of buying a house when he was away all the time, that Remus had learned how to play the bass from his grandfather and pictures had shown that that man was the embodiment of rock'n'roll-grandfather, and that it was Sirius who had come up with the idea of starting a band.

The seventh day had been release day. The song came out at midnight and you had anxiously waited at home with your roommate, Tiffany, until it was time. She had been the biggest fan of the song at the first note and when your voice synchronised with Sirius' she had started to cry. She had kept on playing the song, while you got phone calls from your family and friends.

To promote the new song you and the boys had visited radio station after radio station. You had existed on coffee that day; you had promptly fallen asleep in your living room at three in the morning, while Tiffany was still gushing over your song and the fact that you had met The Marauders, and you had to be at the first studio at 6 AM. Coffee had been your saviour.

Interviews were something you had never done before, just like anything you had gone through that week. At the first radio stations, the boys had taken you under their wings, helping you with answers and pushing you in the right direction. Over the day you had learned how to act in interviews and how to laugh away questions, an useful skill you had noted as the interviewers had asked you about your personal life.

You had thought that that would be it. Or at least, that the song would be the end of your collaboration with The Marauders. They had explained to you that they were going on tour just three weeks later and that maybe they would invite you to one of their shows.

Of course you had been a bit sad to see it end there. In just that week you had grown to like those men a lot. You had spent a lot of time with them and your personalities matched. It was easy and fun to hang around with them.

So when the week was over and it had been time for you to get back to your normal life, that you thought would never be the same again, you had spent the first day home with Tiffany, telling her everything about your experience. You had stayed on the couch with her the whole day and fell asleep late at night, relaxing for the first time that week.

However you relaxation had not been long. The next morning you had gotten a call that had turned your life upside down and was the reason why you were at the airport now;

You were going on tour with The Marauders.

‘What took you so long?’ Remus asked, tilling his suitcase on the counter of the check-in desk.

You panted and bowed forward to catch your breath. James patted you on your back and brushed it lightly. ‘I lost my lock.’

‘You lost your lock?’ Remus said and he turned away from the lady behind the desk to see if James was serious.

The lady behind the counter watched the back of Remus’ head impatiently as this one burst into laughter and shook his head. Peter, who had noticed that the lady was looking rather grumpy and might have realised that she wouldn’t get any happier by the fact that there were more suitcases coming, pushed Remus back to the desk.

Meanwhile you had caught your breath and were standing straight up again. You pushed your suitcase behind Remus and stood next to him, waiting for him to finish with checking in his bags. ‘We lost it somewhere on our way and James wanted to get it back.’

‘How good a lock can it be if it fell off?’ Peter asked, raising his eyebrow so high that it disappeared behind his blond hair.

‘It wouldn’t have fallen off, if someone didn’t bump their suitcase into mine!’ James whined and he looked at you.

‘It was not my fault! You suddenly took a turn! What was I supposed to do? Jump over it?’ you asked sarcastically, sending James a smile.

It was your turn to check in and while you smiled at the grumpy lady, you apologised for making such a scene. She just shrugged and said nothing as she continued to weigh your suitcase and then pushed it to the space behind her desk, where the bags disappeared to be loaded into the airport. She handed you your boarding pass and then called for the next one.

- - - - - -

The air in the airplane was cold. You hid your hands in the sleeves of your sweater and wrapped your arms around your body. You were sitting next to the window and you looked outside. The plane had to take off yet, but you already felt the nerves rushing through your body like you always had when you were in plane. Not that it happened that often, but enough to recognise the feeling.

It was still early in the morning. The skies were just turning blue and there was dew on the windowpane. The first rays of sun broke through and the windows of the airport-building reflected the orange light.

You figured that this wouldn’t be the last time that you would be on a plane this early. Another city every day, or every two days, meant that you would be travelling a lot. But something about the cold and humid morning air was refreshing. The promise of another great day rose with the sun.

However, despite the fresh air and the rising sun, you were tired. You hadn’t slept a lot last night; Tiffany had thrown a little bon-voyage party and had invited your friends. Before the party you had had dinner with your parents. Your mother had cried tears of happiness as she had said goodbye and you just had hoped that was because she was happy for you. Your father had made you promise to him that you would be careful around the four men. You had laughed and told him that nothing would happen with them, but you had promised him, since you feared he wouldn’t let you go if you didn’t. The party Tiffany had thrown wasn’t big; just a few friends, but it had lasted till late at night and you had had to be at the airport at four o’clock.

Your sleep schedule was completely messed up and you feared that it wouldn’t go back to normal for a while.

The voice of the pilot sounded through the airplane and you were pulled from your thoughts. His calm voice soothed none of your nerves, instead only made them worse. You clasped the fabric of your sweater in your hands and took a deep breath as you closed your eyes.

‘If you’re scared of flying, we have a problem,’ James’ voice sounded next to you and you opened your eyes at him.

‘I am not scared of flying, don’t worry,’ you said, your voice quivering a bit. ‘I’m just nervous and excited for everything.’

‘I get that,’ James said, nodding his head. ‘I remember our first time going on tour. Remus knew the whole planning by heart and he took every opportunity to tell us it. Peter cried when he had to say goodbye to his parents; they’re very close you know?’

‘I heard,’ you said and James looked surprised at you. ‘He told me when I was at Remus’ a while back.’

‘Oh, right. Anyway, he cried and we did not hesitate to mock him about it. Poor guy had a terrible first day,’ James chuckled and his eyes glistened with mirth, ‘Sirius was nervous too, but he wouldn’t show it. To this day, he still thinks that we didn’t hear him whispering motivating words to himself before the show-’

‘I wasn’t!’

Sirius, who sat in front of you and James, turned around and looked at you through the space between the seats. You giggled and rested your hands on your thighs, not in your sides anymore.

‘You were!’ James cried out, while Sirius shook his head. ‘I clearly remember you telling yourself that you “could do it, because I am good”.’

Sirius opened his mouth and then closed it again. He shot James an angry glare and then turned back around in his seat, starting to talk to Remus. You looked at James and smiled. ‘What about you?’

‘Oh, I was nervous too. But I kept myself together quite well, if I say so myself.’

Remus and Sirius snorted in front of you and turned around in their seats. Their faces, as they looked at James like he had just told a joke, made you chuckle. James made sputtering sounds, but Remus cut him off before he could say anything.

‘He held my hand the entire flight and was so nervous for the first show that he forgot his lyrics in the first song.’

‘Remus!’

You laughed and nudged James playfully. ‘Come on, it’s funny! It could always be worse…’

‘What do you mean?’ James asked and Remus and Sirius looked curious at you. You shrugged and played with the sleeves of your sweater as you answered.

‘When I had my first performance, I threw up right before I had to go on stage. I had to play three songs while smelling like vomit.’

James and Sirius burst out into laughter and Remus shot you an apologetic look. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched James wipe away a tear from the corner of his eye. For a moment you had forgotten about the take-off and when you looked outside you realised that you were already in the sky. The airport was left behind and you watched the city get smaller and smaller with the seconds.

The little scene down on the earth had your attention until the plane flew into the clouds and you could see nothing but white. You turned back to James, who was watching a film on the little screen installed in the chair in front of him. He mouthed along the words of the protagonist as this one spoke.

You fished your earbuds out of your pocket and put on your music as you turned back to look outside. You pulled your knees up to your chest and closed your eyes for a second as the melody took over you.

Music always had a way to make you feel all the emotions at once. For you it wasn’t just a way to pass time, it was something so much bigger than that. Ever since you were young you had been singing. You had driven your parents crazy, though deep down they were happy to see you passionate about something at such a young age. Any music you could get your hands to, you would listen to. Your mother had dozens of records and you always asked her to play them. Often your brother had complained because he wanted to listen to different music than you. But with your angel eyes you could always win your parents for you.

Guitar lessons had seemed like the most logical thing for you. You had enjoyed learning the chords and soon you could play guitar better than your father, who had been trying to learn how to play for years then. At twelve you had started to write your own songs. Back then they were simple songs with simple lyrics about that one boy crush you had had. As you matured, so did your songs with you. More often they were about the things you felt and the darker periods in your life. Many times your mother had said that you had gift to turn emotions into words.

At the age of sixteen you had recorded your first cover. You had posted it on your Instagram account and then the anxious waiting had begun. A week it had been before someone had commented saying that you had a great voice and that they wouldn’t be surprised to hear more of you. You had been euphoric. After a month you had ten comments, all good ones. The second video you posted was a cover of a song of The Marauders; Lies are fine. It was, at the time, your favourite song of them and to this day the song held a special place in your heart. Again you got some good comments, but for the first time in your life, you had read that someone didn’t like your voice. Now you were quite good at handling hate, but back then it had been enough to break you down. For a month you hadn’t sung and your friends had to show you all the good reactions for you to realise that it was just one opinion.

Ever since you had started to sing your own songs, you had felt liberated in a way. It was easier to sing your own words than someone else’s. The hate had gone on, of course it had, but you had built a wall in front of it. Only a few times something had broken the wall down and then it was patched up quickly again.

You had grown strong over the years and music had formed your life.

- - - - - -

The first place was New York. Management had wanted to start the tour with a big show. Two nights the band would perform at Madison Square Garden. The venue had been booked full both nights. There was not a single place left.

There was one day to install yourself in the city and to get used to the big stadium. You arrived in the city just as it was waking up. Cars were already driving like maniacs over the busy streets and you feared for your life as you looked out of the window of the van you were sitting in. Cars drove by fast and close. The so typical yellow cabs were the worst; driving almost straight into the sidewalk to stop for people and then racing away as soon as the passenger had taken their seat.

The driver of your van wasn’t much different either. He took sharp corners and only stopped abruptly for red lights. With ever turn he took you were pushed out of your seat, one time against the window, the other time against Sirius, who was sitting next to you.

As the driver took another turn, you shifted so you were practically in Sirius’ lap. You placed your hand on his leg not to fall over and his hands caught you.

‘Watch out, darling,’ he smirked when you pushed yourself back to your seat.

‘It’s not my fault that guy drives like he’s got a death wish,’ you grumbled and pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. Sirius laughed and shook his head as he watched you shoot an angry glare at the driver’s head.

‘So got any plans for today?’ you asked, turning your gaze away from the man and looking at Sirius. ‘Other than checking out the venue?’

‘Not really,’ Sirius shrugged. ‘Why, do you got plans?’

‘My plan is to drop dead on my bed and sleep for the rest of the day,’ you said. ‘Care to join me?’

‘I don’t think there would be much sleeping when I’m in bed with you,’ Sirius smirked. ‘There’s no way you can resist me.’

You laughed and shook your head. ‘I don’t know, I seem to be doing fine now.’

‘That’s only what you think, darling. Deep down you’re burning with desire.’

‘Huh, so it seems…’

It was like this with all Sirius’ jokes around you. The flirtatious tone, winks, nicknames. You knew he was only kidding, but still the jokes made you get hot on the inside and a little flustered. You tried to comment back on him, but that didn’t work all times.

The van stopped at the hotel and the driver, much to your surprise, as you had thought that he would drive off the second you stepped out of the vehicle, took your suitcases from the back of the car.

Together with the boys you stepped into the luxurious hotel. The floors were white marble stones and on the ceilings hung golden chandeliers with crystals that sparkled in the sunlight that came through the big window at the front of the building.

It was a surprise to you how the hotel wasn’t loaded with fans yet. From what you had always heard, fans would find out where artist were staying before even they knew. But there was no one on the streets and not one of the people in the lobby looked up when your group walked in.

Your footsteps echoed in the silent hall. You felt utterly underdressed in your sweater and black jeans as you looked around you and saw women in neat dresses and men in suits. You tried to fix your hair, which you feared was peeking out on all sides. Your fingers untangled a tiny knot while you listened to the manager talk to the receptionist.

‘Alright, your rooms are on the fifth floor. Two to six. Tonight we’ll go to the venue but I’ll text you the details,’ the manager said and handed you, Sirius, Peter, James and Remus a room key.

Your room was number six, on the corner of the building so you had windows on two sides. It was by far the most luxe hotel room you had ever stayed in and you were a little disappointed you would only stay here for three days. Though it wasn’t a massive room –it only existed of a bathroom and a bedroom with a small corner where a big chair stood –it looked like everything, from the rug on the floor to the paintings on the walls, was more expensive than your apartment.

You opened the curtains in front of the windows that lead to your balcony, that was connected to the balconies of the others, and the light washed over the room. It was only ten in the morning, but sleep took over you as soon as your head hit the pillow. You didn’t even change; all you had done was take off your shoes.

- - - - - -

Anxiously you sat in the dressing room, staring at yourself in the big mirror that covered one side of the wall above the dressing tables. The round, yellow light bulbs that surrounded the mirror were reflected in your eyes.

You were nervous. More nervous than you thought you would be. The silence in the room only added to your anxiety. The boys had been called away for a moment, to take a last view of the stage before the stadium filled with fans.

Your phone lied open on the sofa next to you. Maybe you shouldn’t have gone through Twitter, but you just couldn’t resist. There were a lot of people wishing you good luck, but you also saw some tweets saying that taking you with The Marauders on tour was the worse decision they had ever made. Doubts had started to play in your head and now it was all you could think about in that silent room.

Luckily the silence was broken when your phone started to ring. Scaring up from the sound you almost fell of the couch as you looked around the room to see what it was. Quickly you noticed your phone and a feeling of relieve washed over you as you read your roommates name on the screen.

‘Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU AT THE VENUE YET? ARE THEY THERE?!’ Tiffany yelled through the phone before you could even say hi to her.

‘Nice to talk to you too, Tif,’ you laughed. ‘I am at the venue actually. The show’s in two hours.’

‘I know, I wanted to talk to you before all the madness begins. How are you holding up?’

‘Nervous. What if I mess up? What if I forget the lyrics? What if I do something embarrassing on stage? There are so many people who will see it.’

‘Don’t worry, sweetheart,’ Tiffany said. ‘You have had performances before and the guys wouldn’t have asked you if they didn’t think you were any good.’

You sighed and smiled to your phone, though Tiffany couldn’t see it. You asked about home and while Tiffany started to tell you about your friends, you heard some noises coming from the hall. Not two seconds later, the door of the dressing room burst open and a laughing James and Sirius entered, followed by Peter and Remus, who had a smile on their face, but weren’t as much laughing as their two friends.

You took one glance at them and then turned back to your phone, catching Tiffany’s last words. ‘…so now I have to visit her parents, while she is away with Jason. Can you believe it?’

‘What can I say, I always thought she was weird,’ you answered and only now the boys seemed to notice you were on the phone. They silenced and watched you as you awkwardly continued to talk to Tiffany. ‘Just be careful around her, okay? I don’t want to see you all caught up in her things, when she is out having fun. You’re better than that.’

‘I know,’ Tiffany sighed and then there was a silence. ‘Well, call me tomorrow, okay? I want to hear everything!’

‘I will. Goodbye, I love you,’ you said and put down your phone after Tiffany had said her goodbyes too.

The four men were looking at you expectantly, but you ignored their looks and walked to the corner of the room, where a little fridge stood, to grab a bottle of water. You felt their eyes pricking in your back and when you turned around you were met with four staring gazes. You suppressed a smile and sat back down on the couch, next to Sirius.

‘So, everything settled for later?’ you asked, taking a sip from your water.

You met Remus’ eye and he noticed you were teasing them. Everything about their faces told you that they wanted to know who you just told ‘I love you’ to, but you wouldn’t give in so easily. Remus shot you a smile and then started to talk about the stage, taking the other three’s attention of the cause for a while.

It was only an hour later, as James, Peter and Remus were out checking their instruments, the subject of your phone call came back. You were walking up and down in the room and Sirius was lying on the couch, his eyes focused on his phone. You were softly rehearsing your text one more time, as the nerves were making their way up to your throat now. You feared that if you didn’t find a way to calm down soon, you would not even be able to sing.

‘Who was that on the phone?’ Sirius asked out of nowhere, startling you in your walking.

‘Why?’ you asked, tilting your head to the side.

‘Just curious who the subject of your love interest is.’

‘Don’t be jealous, you know you’re the only one,’ you smirked and grabbed an empty water bottle. Your fingers played with the label on it for a few seconds and then you threw it away.

‘No boyfriend then?’ Sirius asked and you stared at him for a minute before you shook your head. ‘Come sit,’ Sirius ordered while he pushed himself up from the couch and patted the empty space next to him. Hesitantly you sat down next to him. ‘I won’t bite,’ Sirius laughed. ‘Unless you’re into that of course.’

You blushed and shook your head, not able to keep the scoff inside your mouth. Staring at your hands you took a deep breath. Sirius’ gaze was focused on the side of your face and when you breathed out he placed a hand on your back, rubbing it lightly. You felt butterflies fly up in your stomach and you closed your eyes for a second.

‘You don’t have to be nervous, darling. You have a beautiful voice, you fit really well with the group and not to mention you’re gorgeous,’ Sirius said and his hand kept still on your back. The blood rushed to your cheeks and you smiled, looking up to Sirius as you opened your eyes again.

‘Thank you,’ you whispered.

‘And if that doesn’t help, you can always imagine everyone naked. That helps in all situations,’ Sirius added with a wink, his eyes gliding over your body for a second.

‘I’m going to strangle you,’ you said with a laugh, pushing Sirius away from you.

‘Is that a threat or a promise? Stop confusing me,’ Sirius said, his smirk evident on his face. You got up from the couch and walked to the door, swaying your hips exaggerated and throwing your hair over your shoulder as you looked back at him. His eyes were focused on your bum and you smirked as you stepped through the door.

‘Whatever you want it to be, dear,’ you said before disappearing and your smile grew at hearing Sirius sigh as his body hit the cushions of the couch.

- - - - - -

The crowd was cheering and yelling as The Marauders played a song from their newest album, Disaster. You mouthed along the words while you stood backstage, watching the band play from the side. They performed with such a passion and love for their music that you couldn’t but smile. You had seen their performances countless of times online and you had been at a show once, but that was four years ago. In those four years they had grown from teenage boys to men. Their style had matured with them, but still their music had something that had been there from the start; passion.

‘You’re up next,’ the stage manager told you and pushed you to the stairs that lead to the stage. You wrapped your hands around your waist and took in a deep breath. Someone pushed a microphone in your hand and pushed you even closer to the stairs, so you were almost standing on them now.

‘Our next song is one we’re particularly proud of,’ Remus said and from your place you could see James trying to calm the crowd down a little. ‘It’s something we have worked hard and specially fast on.’

The crowd eased a little and you felt your heart beating in your chest. This was it; the moment you had been waiting for ever since you started writing music. A big stadium filled with people who wanted to listen to your song.

‘Please welcome to the stage the lovely Y/N!’

With fierce steps you climbed the stairs. The view that came to your sight as you took your place next to Sirius was something that you already knew nothing in your life could top. Thousands of people cheered, yelled and screamed your name. There were lights from phones and cameras everywhere and you were blinded as a spotlight was placed on you.

Anxiously you turned to Sirius, who was standing next to you and he gave you a smile and a wink. You relaxed and even dared to smile at the crowd in front of you. You could hear the screaming of hundreds of girls somewhere in the section closest to the stage and you chuckled lightly, remembering what it was like to stand there and be so close to your favourite band.

‘You ready?’ Sirius mouthed at you and when you nodded he looked at Peter over his head, who started to tick his drumsticks to the beat of the song. The bass joined in and you forgot about the crowd as the tunes of the song you had worked so hard on the past month filled the stadium.

‘Don’t you think about me tonight

I’ll still be there in the morning

In the sunrise we’ll reunite

Our heads empty and dark inside’

Every last nerve that you had disappeared as the first words left your mouth. At the first verse, the crowd was totally silent, never having heard you live before. But when you sang the last word of the verse, they burst loose and the screaming filled your arms, likely to be remembered for a lifetime.

As you looked at the people in front of you, you realised why singers loved touring so much. The adrenalin that filled your body before now had turned into excitement and utter happiness as you heard all the people sing along with you. The words left your mouth without thinking and you interacted with Sirius as if you had been doing so your entire life. His grey eyes were what you were focused mostly on as you sang the words of the chorus together, your voices synchronising in a way no one had ever heard before.

‘Don’t rush

I will wait for you

Take time

Leave your love behind’

You smiled at Sirius and he smiled back at you, the first honest and happy smile you had gotten from him and you were enchanted. All his smiles had been smirks and sarcastic grins till now, but this was a sight that was just as impressing as everything that was happening around you. And as Sirius took over and his smile disappeared as he sang further, you realised that you would anything to just see that smile again.

‘So just take your time

Cause I’ll wait for you’

The last notes sounded through the stadium. Sirius took you in his arms and lifted you off the ground as he spun you around. You laughed relieved and excitedly and pressed a kiss on Sirius’ cheek when he put you back down again. The audience screamed like it was the end of their life and you felt like crying, so happy.

- - - - - -

The sunlight was shining through the curtains in front of the windows. It was still early in the morning. Early meaning 6.30 AM.

The alarm on your phone woke you from your sleep. Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes and searched with your hand for the phone on your nightstand. Your hand passed various objects before it found the phone. With a sigh you turned off the alarm and plummeted back in your pillow.

The high of last night still hadn’t fully disappeared and when you thought about it, you still got butterflies in your stomach. It was surreal to you to see the thousands of people in that concert hall, all singing along to a song that you had helped writing, that you were singing.

And maybe the high would have stayed all day, if you didn’t have to get up so early in the morning. But you would not complain. You were on tour with a world famous band. This was your dream and if that meant getting little sleep and early mornings, then so be it.

An interview had been planned for eight o’clock, but you had to be there at least twenty minutes earlier. Another sigh escaped your mouth as you got up from your bed and stumbled to the bathroom.

Surprisingly, you didn’t even look so bad for so little sleep. The bags under your eyes were not even that dark and though your hair was a big mess, you looked like you had at least a six hour sleep. Which you hadn’t.

After the show, the boys and you had had a little party with the crew to celebrate the first show. It had been fun to learn everyone better. You had talked to Lily, the manager’s assistant and the girl James had a crush on. She was really nice to you and you hit it off well. You laughed with her at James’ lame attempts to ask her out, what made James a little annoyed as he was sitting close to you and listening to your conversation.

The hot water of your shower relaxed your muscles. You let the warm water stream over your face, the drops rolling over your cheeks and nose. You washed your hair and when you breathed in the scent of your shampoo that was spreading in steam through the whole bathroom, you were in a different world for a moment.

You were so deeply concentrated that you didn’t hear someone entering your room, until the person knocked on your door and you were startled from your daydream.

‘Who’s there?’ you asked loudly, making your voice clear over the running water.

‘Sirius,’ the answer was.

‘Hold on a minute!’ you yelled and finished your shower.

As the water was turned off a silence filled the bathroom. You reached for your towel and dried your body as quickly as you could. You turned around to take your clothes and then you realised that you had left them in the bedroom, since you had not expected any company so early in the morning.

Cursing under your breath you wrapped the towel around your body and brushed your hair so it looked at least a little presentable. You unlocked the bathroom door and barefooted you walked to your bed, where Sirius was sitting, playing with the remote of the television.

You tried to ignore the blush on your face as you made your way over to your suitcase and took your clothes out of it, your back to Sirius. You could feel his gaze on your body as you bowed forward to grab a shirt.

‘What’s up?’ you asked, killing the awkward silence.

‘I was wondering if you were awake yet,’ Sirius answered and he quickly averted his eyes when you turned back around.

‘I was,’ you said and you smiled at Sirius. You walked back to the bathroom to get dressed, but let the door open so you could talk to Sirius.

‘So how’d you sleep?’ Sirius asked, his voice echoing on the tiles of the room you were in.

‘Fine, little, but good,’ you mumbled.

You informed after Sirius’ sleep and after that a silence fell over the two of you. You were doing your make-up in the mirror, not having your shirt on yet in case you’d drop your mascara, which unfortunately happened more often than you liked, while you listened to the news anchor talking about a robbery in a local supermarket.

The silence was broken by your phone that had started to ring. Your hand flinched at the sudden sound and the brush of your mascara shot up against your skin, making a big black stain below your eyebrow. You quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned the black make-up from your face as the phone kept on ringing.

‘It’s yours…’ Sirius said from the bedroom.

‘Gimme,’ you muttered, lowering the towel from your head. You left the bathroom and walked to where Sirius was sitting with your phone in his hand. Immediately you recognised Tiffany’s picture on the screen and you smiled to yourself. You took the phone from Sirius and raised your eyebrow at him as he was staring at you. It was only then you realised that you were wearing nothing but a bra and pants. You scoffed and pushed Sirius back on the bed, making him flash his smirk at you. You rolled your eyes and answered your phone.

‘Y/N, YOU’RE ALL OVER THE INTERNET!’ Tiffany screamed through the phone. ‘HAVE YOU SEEN IT YET? I’M SURE YOU HAVE! YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!’

You chuckled at your friend’s enthusiastic voice, that was so loud Sirius probably had heard it too. ‘Tiff, Tiff, relax please,’ you eased her. ‘Listen, I have to get ready, so I’ll give you to Sirius for five minutes, alright?’

‘y/n, don’t you dare-’ Tiffany started, but you had already given the phone to Sirius, who had his mouth open when he got the phone from you. You gave him a smile and disappeared in the bathroom again.

Continuing with your make-up, you listened to Sirius talking to Tiffany, who was probably going to kill you when you got back home. You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Sirius laughed a few times and by his words the conversation seemed to flow quite easily.

Once you were totally dressed, you got back to the bed and sat down next to Sirius who quickly gave your phone back.

‘Love, it’s me again,’ you said and Tiffany sighed relieved.

‘y/n, I swear, the next time I see you…’

You laughed, while you put on your shoes. Catching Tiffany up with what had happened last night, you walked with Sirius to breakfast.

‘Your friend’s a handful,’ Sirius said after you had hung up on Tiffany.

‘She is, but she’s wonderful and has been nothing but supportive ever since I met her. I couldn’t wish for a better friend,’ you said as you stepped into the hall where they served breakfast. You sat down next to James, who was already sitting there with Remus.

Sirius sat down next to you and poured you coffee from the can that stood on the table. ‘I’ve got to say, I am a little disappointed you decided to put on a shirt, darling,’ Sirius grinned and next to you James choked on his orange juice.

‘Excuse me?’ he coughed.

You patted him on his back and shook your head. ‘Nothing, Sirius just can’t get the picture of me in my bra out of his head.’

‘I don’t think anyone ever could, dear.’

‘Sirius, please,’ Remus said. ‘It’s breakfast. Save your jokes for later.’

‘And how is it a joke, Rem?’ Sirius asked looking at his friend over his cup.

- - - - - -

‘Welcome back to Sirius XM, where we are currently joined by no one less than The Marauders and y/n, who is joining the band on their tour! Their new song Don’t rush, is out since a month and last night was the first show, kicking off The Marauders’ world tour. We have all five of them in our studio!’

The two radio hosts, whom you had learned were Raj and Marshall, sat on the other side of the table. You sat on the far left with Remus next to you. Since the studio wasn’t exactly built for five guests, you and Remus had to share a microphone, just as Sirius and James had to. The only difference was that you and Remus were both mature enough to let each other talk, while Sirius and James kept pushing the mic in the other’s nose.

‘Peter, starting with you. Are you excited for this tour? Any cities you are looking forward to visit?’ Marshall asked.

‘I am really excited for tour, yes. This album is something we worked really hard on and I think I speak for all of us when I say that this might be the best we have written so far,’ Peter answered, a smile spreading on his face as he talked about the album. ‘That being said, I am looking forward to every city we will visit. Every show is special and every crowd is awesome.’

‘Remus, Peter says this album is your best yet. Care to weigh in?’

‘I agree with Pete. We poured our heart and soul into this album and I really love how it turned out in the end. This music is different than our previous albums, but I think that doesn’t make it any less better. These songs are more about ourselves, about our insecurities and fears, but also about our happy moments.’

‘It’s our up and downs,’ James chimed in and Remus nodded.

‘Yes. And I think that is the beauty of it. It has something that everyone recognises. Nobody’s life is perfect and nobody lives on “ups” alone. We wanted to create something that shows that’s it’s okay to feel down or scared. It is okay to be insecure, because everyone is,’ Remus said and the other three boys nodded.

‘y/n,’ Raj said. ‘As a listener of the album, someone who didn’t know the thought behind the album, did you feel the same way when you listened to it?’

‘I did,’ you answered. ‘I first listened to the album alone at midnight, when it was released, and I am not ashamed to say that it definitely brought me to tears. I really think the guys got the message across.’

Remus nudged you thankfully and you smiled at him, as Raj asked Sirius and James about a particular song. You listened with interest and smiled at the passion that the men had as they talked about their music.

‘And then y/n came into the picture, working with you on Don’t rush, which is a banger by the way. y/n, how was it working with the band?’ Raj asked.

‘It was all very new to me. I am used to writing songs on my own and now there were suddenly a lot of people around me. But it was an experience I will never forget.’

‘Did you have a lot of influence on the song?’

‘I think we all equally contributed to the song. The meaning behind it is definitely one that I recognise. We all tend to rush into the things that seem exciting and in doing so we often forget the way we get there. It is important to take your time and I think the song described that perfectly.’

‘James, how was working with her? What was she like?’

‘She was such a good person, not like us,’ James grinned and Sirius sniffed. ‘It was refreshing to work with y/n. She took us all back to that feeling we had when we first started writing songs. I think in a way she has improved us all, because she made us stand still and look at how much we have accomplished already. Sometimes you forget to look at that when your life is so busy. I am forever thankful for the friendship I have built with her.’

‘You’re gonna make me cry here, James,’ you said and wiped away a tear from your eyes. Remus put his arm around you and placed a kiss on the side of your head, while the others chuckled at you.

‘Sirius and y/n, we have to talk about your performance last night,’ Marshall said and he looked at you and Sirius. ‘I assume you have seen the way social media exploded after last night’s show?’

You nodded and chuckled as you thought back of the reaction of your friends and family. Your brother had sent you a video of your parents watching your performance for the first time and their reaction warmed your heart. Your mother was jumping around and had waved her arms through the air and your father had stood watching the video with tears on his face.

‘Fans have been speculating all around and I hope I am not crossing any boundaries here, but I do have to ask,’ Raj said and he leaned forward over the desk. ‘Are you two together?’

A silence fell over the studio as you looked at Sirius. He smirked at you and you smiled as you shook your head. ‘No, were not,’ you said and Raj frowned.

‘Really? You seemed to have quite some chemistry on the stage.’

‘The art of music,’ Sirius shrugged. ‘It can make anyone believe anything.’

- - - - - -

At the next show you were more relaxed. Now the nervousness of the first show was gone, you had found that you quite enjoyed the adrenalin that was rushing through your veins right before you went on stage. And even better was the joy that filled you when you stood on the stage.

Singing the song with Sirius had something magical to it. It wasn’t just the crowds that screamed the lyrics along or the music that reached to your bones. No, the best part was the smile that Sirius wore when he looked at you. For a moment you forgot everything around you when Sirius flashed you that smile.

The band played show after show and travelled all through North America. The cities you passed were all greater than the other. You went to places you had always wanted to visit and met new people.

The other thing that was just as fun as singing on a big stage every night, was meeting all the fans. And not even The Marauders’ fans; you had even met people that were fan of just you. People asking for pictures with you, for your autograph, anything. It was a new experience for you, but you adored every one of them. It had thrown you off at first when someone told you that you had saved their life, but the band had taken you under their wings and had explained how to deal with such situations.

You were beyond thankful to have those four guys around you. You had learned so much from them and you knew that you would have never made it if it wasn’t for their help.

In the time you spent with the boys, preparing before the show, talking after, the interviews, sleeping on the tour bus together, you really got to know them. You learned so much about them in such a little time and you were sure that even after the tour you would stay friends with them. You teased each other continuously , but where the teases with Remus, James and Peter were all innocent, with Sirius there was always another layer to them. Always a smirk or a wink. Not that you minded; you liked the little jokes and innuendos.

And if you were completely frank with yourself, you just liked Sirius.

- - - - - -

It was long dark as you lied in the uncomfortable bed of the tour bus. You were glad to at least have a bed and not have to sleep on a couch or something, but you had to admit that sleeping was very hard on those things.

You stared at the empty ceiling that was way too close to your face for your liking and thought of what you had read earlier.

You had been warned before not to believe the things people on social media said, but that was easier said than done. How could you not let those hateful words get to you?

Though you had dealt with hate comments more, these had been worse than ever before. There were people saying that you couldn’t sing and that you were ugly and fat, but that was nothing new. The things that hurt you the most were the people that said you were just on tour with the guys because you were an easy lay. Someone even said that you were just there to help them blow off some steam.

A tear escaped your eye and rolled over your face to fall on your pillow. You sighed sadly and got up. You jerked away the curtains before your bed and stepped out of it, bumping your head in the process. You cursed something under your breath as you walked to the back of the bus, where there was place to sit.

‘Who hurt you?’ Sirius chuckled as you sat down sighing.

He was lying on the couch in his grey sweatpants and an old T-shirt with his headphones in. He had a smile on his mouth, but that changed when he saw how you were looking. He took of his headphones and threw his phone to the side.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked genuinely.

‘It’s nothing,’ you muttered, playing with the edge of your sweater sleeves. ‘Just stupid people that suggest I’m a slut.’

‘What?’ Sirius asked and he moved closer to you.

You took out your phone and showed him the tweets. Sirius cursed out loud when he read them and he threw your phone behind you on the couch. He took your hands and forced you to look at him.

‘Listen to me,’ he said, his voice low. ‘You are not a slut, okay? You are the most incredible woman I have ever met. You are magnificent, lovely, beautiful, intelligent, witty and you have the most beautiful voice. My dear, if I couldn’t hold you in my arms, I would believe you are an angel.’

You smiled through your tears and wrapped your arms around Sirius’ neck.

‘They are just pity, little, jealous people that have nothing better to do in their lives. I wish I could protect you from them, but there will be more. Will you just promise me one thing?’ Sirius asked and you pulled away from him. ‘Never listen to them. Never doubt yourself. If you weren’t a good singer I wouldn’t have asked for you to come to tour with us.’

‘You asked for that?’ you said surprised.

‘Uh, yeah,’ Sirius said and he suddenly became a little awkward. ‘I had such fun writing with you, and the guys too, and I could not stop working together with you after just one song. So I asked out manager if you could tour with us.’

You smiled thankfully at Sirius and pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Thank you, Sirius. And I promise. If I’m good enough for Sirius Black to come to tour with him, I am good enough to not believe those haters.’

‘You’ll always be good enough for me, darling,’ Sirius said with a wink and he got his usual cocky smile back. ‘Even better, if I say so.’

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you leant in to his chest. His cold fingers rested on your forearm and you felt a sparkle rushing through your body. You tried to ignore the little butterflies in your stomach, but the longer you sat with Sirius, the bigger they became.

‘I like having you here,’ Sirius said, his deep voice reaching to your bones.

‘You do?’

‘Yeah, you’re a refreshment from James’ lame jokes, Remus’ boring facts and whatever Peter tells. He’s not a great storyteller, that man.’

‘Well, I like being here,’ you said, turning a little so you could look at Sirius. His arms lowered and his hand rested on your hip as you leaned with your elbow on the back of the couch. You draped your legs over Sirius’ lap and played with his curls as you talked. ‘I do miss my family and friends though. Talking on the phone and face timing is not the same as actually being with them.’

‘I know, I hear the guys complain about that too.’

‘You not?’

‘No, I don’t talk to my family anymore.’

‘Oh,’ was all you said and you stopped twirling his black curls around your finger as you looked at him. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’

‘It’s alright,’ Sirius smiled at you. ‘I left home when I was seventeen, moved in with James, lived there for a while before I got my own place. I got the perfect tragic background for an artist.’

You chuckled sadly and reached for Sirius’ hair again. There was a silence that stretched out through the whole bus. You stared at the black hair in your hands while you tried to ignore Sirius’ gaze on you.

‘Thank you for telling me,’ you whispered as if breaking the silence was a crime. Sirius nodded and rested his head back into your hand. He closed his eyes as your nails scratched his skin. It was something you used to see your mother do to your father when he was upset and you did it to your brother when you were younger.

‘I should go back to bed,’ you said after a while and made effort to get off the couch.

‘Or you could stay here,’ Sirius said as he pulled you back against his chest, making you fall on top of him on the sofa. ‘Those beds suck. I am far more comfortable.’

The couch was deep enough for two people to lie next to each other and you settled close to Sirius, his chest against yours.

‘Well, I can’t disagree with that,’ you grinned as you buried your neck in his chest.

Sirius placed his arm over your waist and pulled you closer to him. You listened to his heartbeat and you quickly found yourself dozing off.

‘Goodnight, love,’ Sirius whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

‘Goodnight, Sirius.’

- - - - - -

One benefit of touring with a band was that there was always someone around. If you wanted to play a game you could go to James, if you wanted to have a conversation you could go to Remus, for fun stories Peter was available and Sirius was always there if you needed a cuddle.

You appreciated the company but you were also glad if you had some time alone. And though that was hard as you woke up in a bus with the men, rehearsed, spent free time with them, then played a show with them and after that hung out with them until you fell asleep in the same bus, only for the cycle to start again the next day, there were some moments that you were alone. Like when you got coffee in the morning for everyone, while the boys were still asleep. Or if they decided to practice on the stage longer and you could sneak off to the back of the bus with a book. Those were little moments of peace that you found yourself enjoying more and more as the tour continued.

However, you were immensely grateful for all the fun moments you had with the band. You were basically living your lifelong dream right now and you’d be an idiot if you didn’t realise that. You got to see what it was like to have fans all around the world, to have people come up to you and ask for a photo, to be recognised in the streets. At first it had been a bit weird to you, but over the time you had learned how to handle such situations and how to say ‘no’.

Maybe that was the hardest part. Saying no. You knew that you had to set boundaries between personal and public life, but if someone came up to you, you were quick to take a photo with them or to talk to them. The guys taught you that it was important for yourself to sometimes just say no. Your fans had to respects your boundaries and if they didn’t then they couldn’t be called your fans.

- - - - - -

‘Ready for tonight?’ Peter asked as he sat down next to you and handed you a cup of tea.

‘Thank you. Yeah, I think I am. My family’s coming over, so I’m really excited,’ you answered.

This night, Tiffany, your brother and your parents were coming over to see your show. You had been talking to Tiffany over the phone for the past time and she was super enthusiastic to see the show. You had gotten them backstage-passes so they could see you before the show.

‘Are we gonna meet them?’ James asked, taking place on your other side.

‘Oh, you’re not going to get out of that,’ you chuckled. ‘Tiff is asking about you guys all the time.’

‘Tiff, eh? And what’s she like?’ Sirius asked as he pushed Peter aside to sit next to you. ‘Anything we might enjoy?’

There it was, that cheeky wink that made your stomach turn upside down. Combined with the smirk that seemed to be glued to his face.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ you said. ‘She’s pretty fond of Remus.’

You grinned back at him and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. A shiver ran down your spine as you felt your butterflies in your stomach. The blood rushed to your cheeks and you tried to play it cool by starting a conversation with Remus and James.

Sirius was listening to your conversation while his fingers drummed on your upper arm. He hummed a song and you felt the bass of his voice thrumming in your chest. He brought his head closer casually and his voice was closer to your ear. Subconsciously you placed your hand on his thigh and his humming stopped. He twisted his head to you and you looked up from your conversation with the others.

‘What?’ you asked when you saw Sirius was raising his eyebrow at you.

His eyes shifted to your hand and then back to your face. ‘Enjoying yourself?’

You gave his thigh a little squeeze and smiled. ‘Very much.’

He opened his mouth to say something but nothing left his mouth. A smirk formed on your face when you turned back to your conversation. James cocked his eyebrow at Sirius and you heard the latter sniff next to you.

The ringing of your phone caught your attention. You jumped up from the couch, Sirius’ hand falling off your shoulder and sliding along the curve of your body, and you reached for your phone on the other side of the dressing room.

Tiffany’s voice was yelling through the room as you answered your phone, telling you that she and your family had landed and were on the way to their hotel. ‘It’s so great here, honey! I can’t wait to see you! I am so- What do you want?! Och, just leave me alone for a second!’

You laughed at Tiffany’s angry words as you heard your brother’s voice in the back. You knew she had always had a thing for him. Every time he came over she always made sure she was at her best. You had teased her endlessly about it. She made dinner for him countless times and always gave him a little more than the other guests. She was always stealing glances at him and sitting next to him, their legs pressed together.

But you didn’t think your brother minded. He liked her just as much if not more. And you teased him with it too. But he was reluctant of his feelings. Though he seemed to flirt with Tiffany now, from what you could hear.

Lily, the assistant, knocked on the door and when it opened revealed her head. She, when she noticed you were on the phone, whispered something to the men on the other side of the room. Tiffany was still talking to you about how much she liked wherever she was right now and you let her ramble on, turning to the guys to ask what Lily said.

‘We have to leave in five minutes,’ Remus mumbled.

‘Tiff, I have to go, honey,’ you said, cutting off Tiffany’s speech. ‘Okay? I’ll talk to you later. Love you.’

- - - - - -

The crowd was making a lot of noise as they filled the hall. You stood backstage in the hallway of the dressing room, but you could still hear them. You could feel the nerves slowly rising in your body. This wouldn’t be a night any different from the other nights the past month, but yet you felt more nervous than normal.

Anxiously you paced up and down in front of the door of the dressing room, waiting for your family and Tiffany to arrive. Your brother had sent you a text, saying that they were at the venue but after that you hadn’t heard from him.

Maybe that was why you were nervous. You had never played for such a big crowd with your family there. They had been at many of your little shows, but never one this big. You knew they were proud of you and that they would like it, but you couldn’t stop the nerves.

‘Darling, calm down. What are you so nervous for?’ asked Sirius as he left the dressing room and found you walking up and down.

He lifted his arms and you buried your face in his chest, as he wrapped his hands around your waist. ‘I don’t know,’ you mumbled, hugging more tightly onto Sirius.

‘You’re a great singer, your family will love you, the fans love you, the band loves you,’ Sirius’ voice got to a whisper, ‘I love you.’

Maybe he thought that the crowds were so loud that you wouldn’t hear it. Maybe he thought that if he whispered you wouldn’t hear. Or maybe he wanted you to hear. You didn’t know what he thought, but you knew one thing.

You heard.

Your body froze for a second and you lifted your head from Sirius’ chest. You stared at him with big eyes and you were unable to answer. Unable to tell him that you loved him too. Because you loved him too. You had known for a while, but you were too scared to admit it to yourself.

Sirius stared back at you with questioning eyes. A tiny smile formed on your mouth but before you could say anything, you heard footsteps.

You let go of Sirius, your hands lingering on his body and your chest aching for letting him go, and at the same time your parents, brother and Tiffany came around the corner. Your friend launched herself at you and you caught her in your arms. She immediately started talking about how much she had missed you, how silent the house was without you and how all your other friends were jealous of you.

Tiffany was still talking while you hugged your brother, who looked at your roommate with a goofy smile. You pinched his cheek and stuck out your tongue at him before you whispered: ‘So are you together yet?’

Your brother immediately averted his eyes from Tiffany and stared at you. He scrunched his eyebrows together at you and hit you playfully on the head. ‘Are you together with Mr. Singer yet?’

Your happy smile disappeared for a second as you were reminded of the moment that was just interrupted. But your grin came back quickly and you laughed at your brother. ‘Hm, I think I have made more progress than you,’ you said mysteriously and you winked before you stepped to your parents.

‘Oh, princess!’ your mother exclaimed and she engulfed you in her tight embrace. ‘Your father and I are so proud of you! We have seen ever video of every show!’

You hugged your father and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. ‘Good job, angel,’ your father said and your eyes watered up as you saw the tears in his.

‘And dare I say, you have quite the chemistry with that long haired man!’ your mother giggled. You looked over your shoulder at Sirius, who was occupied with Tiffany talking to him. He looked as distressed as when he first talked to Tiffany at your first night in New York. He caught your gaze and you waved at him before turning back to your parents. Your mother had a smug smile on her face and your father was looking over your shoulder at Sirius, with furrowed eyebrows.

‘Yes, Sirius has proven to be an absolute gentleman,’ you said, pulling your father from staring at Sirius. ‘You should meet the others too! Everyone is so nice!’

You saved Sirius from Tiffany, who seemed could not stop talking, and pulled your friend with you to the dressing room.

‘You have to tell me everything about you and my brother tonight,’ you whispered at her, while everyone else followed you. ‘And don’t tell me nothing has happened!’ you said when you saw her opening her mouth. ‘I know him and the way he looks at you tells me something has happened!’

Your family meeting The Marauders was as if your two families met. Your father immediately was drawn to Peter, your mother fussed over James, who was quickly saved by your brother and Tiffany sat down next to Remus. You winked at him and then raised your eyebrows at Tiffany and he burst out into laughter.

You sat down on the chair furthest away from everyone and watched the scene happily, though a little embarrassed at the way your family acted. The nerves that you had felt a while ago had gone and you were excited to play the show tonight.

After a while, James sat down next to you, after he was released from your mother’s conversation. He handed you a beer and you greedily accepted it. Maybe inviting your parents and your brother and Tiffany at the same time wasn’t such a good idea after all.

‘Where’s Sirius?’ James asked you.

Sirius hadn’t joined you and your family in the dressing room and you feared you had messed up by not answering to his confession. You wanted to look for him, but you knew all hell would break loose if you left your family alone.

‘I don’t know,’ you said, taking a sip from the bottle. ‘I was talking with him, but we were interrupted by these idiots.’ You gesture at your father who is doing a little weird dance in the middle of the room.

It wasn’t unusual for you to see this side of your parents, but you had hoped they would not show it in front of people whom they had never met. You knew they were crazy, but no one else needed to know.

‘Oh, well,’ James said nonchalant. ‘I am sure he’ll come back soon.’

- - - - - -

But Sirius didn’t. The next time you saw him was long after your family had been brought to their places and right before he was about to go on stage. In the dark you could see his silhouette contrasting with the lights from the stage. He was fumbling the microphone in his hands, as you had learned he only did when he was nervous.

You walked over to him and placed your hand on his shoulder. ‘Hey,’ you said softly. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ he snapped back and you removed your hand from his body.

‘Sorry,’ you mumbled. ‘I know we never got to finish our conversation, but I just-’

‘Twenty seconds!’ the stage manager yelled, interrupting you.

‘I’ll see you there, right?’ Sirius asked, his voice cold and distant. ‘Just… do what you always do.’

Sirius stepped away from you to the stairs and you watched his figure with tears in your eyes as he climbed the stage with the rest of the band. James looked back at you and pointed at Sirius before ticking the side of his head. You chuckled through the tears and blew James a kiss before he disappeared into the bright lights.

Watching the men perform was still so inspiring to you. The passion that they had was something that you hoped to achieve some day yourself. They didn’t just make music, they made magic. You would never get tired of watching it.

‘Now I think it is time we bring out the person who is an immense support to us and who you all love. And if you don’t, well, then just cover your ears or something… Here’s y/n!’ James shouted and the audience screamed as you walked on stage.

You stood next to Sirius and for the first time since the tour started you felt like you were back at the first show again. All the insecurities came back to you in a wave and you felt a little dizzy. You grabbed Sirius’ arm for balance and he looked quickly at you, before averting his eyes again.

You knew that his was the only way to reach him. Through music, through his lyrics. If he didn’t want to talk with you, then fine. But you knew that he would listen to you if you sang to him.

So you sang the song with all the passion and love that you had in your body.

‘Won’t you please just look at me?

And listen to my heart

As I tell you all the stories

To never be apart

If this is what you’re feeling

Then tell me one more time

Will you take my heart along

And leave this all behind?’

Sirius looked at you, like he had done all those nights before, but something in his face was different. You smiled at him and put out your hand for him to take. He looked from your hand to your face and then the biggest smile you had seen all tour appeared on his face as he took your hand in his and squeezed it a little.

‘Don’t rush

I will wait for you

Take time

Leave your love behind’

A tear slid down your cheek as you looked at the big crowd in front of you that was singing along every word that left your mouth. The flashlights of phones waved through the air as in one movement.

‘Love, don’t break my heart again

Just push it to the side

I will still be waiting here

So you just take your time’

Sirius wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You both stopped singing for a minute and listened to the audience as they sang from the top of their longs. Even the band stopped playing and all that could be heard were the thousands of voices from the fans.

Pressing a kiss to the side of your head, Sirius whispered: ‘I love you, darling.’

You looked at him and smiled, while he wiped away the tears on your cheek. ‘I love you too.’

‘So know that I will love you still

Even if you take so long

Leave this place but come back please

For you are everything to me’

The last melodies of the song started and you intertwined your fingers with Sirius’ as you poured all your feelings into the last words.

‘So just take your time

Cause I’ll wait for you’

----------

Taglists

Sirius Black @treestarrrrrrrr @bumbelbeeesblog @with1love1anu @transparentttttttttt @sirius-satellite @cheoco @malikinglove @alwaysinmydaydreams @eateraa @bi-andready-tocry @fangirlofbooksandpasta @littlemissgothgirl @always394patronus @heavenly-ascended-melodies @mrs-moony @coldlilheart @fific7 @april-showers-and-flowers @susceptible-but-siriusexual

Marauders @secretsthathauntus @ronniethelost @sognatrice-as-a-hobby @hxrgreeves @wecouldbreakthedistance @valentina-007

General HP @kitkatkl @girllety @yuptha-tsme @sleep-i-ness @iamak20 @thefuturelawyer @weasleydream @missmulti @deafgirltingz @moonstarrnghtsky @bloodblossom73 @mytreec @lilulo-12fanfiction @emmaloo21 @kashishwrites @ananad1 @figlia--della--luna @kylosleftbuttcheek @mrs-malfoy-always @obsessedwithrandomthings @thefandomplace @magicwithaknife

let me know if you want to be added/removed/replaced

MASTERLIST

#haraces1kchallenge #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius x reader #marauders x reader #marauders #marauders imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #peter pettigrew x reader #sirius black fanfiction #marauders fanfiction

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hellfire-munson · 4 years

Text

Looking Up Luke x Reader Pt 1

Pairings: Luke x Reader (Briefly at the end), Julie x BestFriend! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Brief mention of sad memories.

Word count: 2211

This is My first post so bare with me. I’ll get better at the edits and stuff as I learn my way around Tumblr. I also took inspiration from Paramore and the reader was strongly based on Hayley Williams in my mind but you can make her in your image. I don't own Paramore or their music. The song I took inspiration from is Looking Up.

“Jules, you and Flynn are coming tonight, right?” You ask while you and your best friend throw you school books in your locker after your last period. Julie looks over and smiles at you.

“Of course! The boys were wanting to tag along especially after I told them how you were in a band of your own. They wanted to know why you denied their offer after Luke heard you shred the guitar solo during that one rehearsal.” She says.

“If he thought I was shredding that guitar, just wait till they see what I really got going on. Right now all they know and all anyone knows and thinks is I play guitar for the band. Also Luke wanted me to join so he could see me everyday.” You smile.

“Wait, Jackie walked?!” She screamed excitedly.

“Yeah, after her and I got into this huge argument about the upcoming shows and letting me actually sing vocals for MY songs she walked away, and someone had to take her place. I wrote this new song we are going to play tonight, you’re going to love it.” You smile at her.

“Y/N this is amazing! Our mom’s would be so proud of us.” She smiles longingly.

“Maybe we could collaborate one day, I know you’re a bit more popish than what Paramore is but we could make something work!” You smile at her. She jumps up and down loving the idea of the whole thing.

“Yes! That would be amazing! Let's head home, we have to get ready for tonight. Oh how will we get in? I thought the venue sold out in minutes?” She asks turning to look at you as you two walk through the doors to your car. You pulled 5 vip lanyards out of your bag and handed them to her.

“I got you covered girl, don’t worry.” You smile unlocking the door. The drive back to your house was filled with you blasting all your bands old songs and singing along. You were lucky enough to live in the same neighborhood as Julie and the boys so you often carpooled to school but the boys had things to do after school before the show so they went their separate ways. Julie was trying to help you choose your clothes for tonight but with you two being so entirely polar opposite it was hard. If anyone was to help you it should have been Luke since you two share almost the same fashion sense with a hint of Reggie mixed in. You eventually settled for an old cut up Sunset Curve shirt you “borrowed” from Luke with a lace bra underneath and you paired that with your highwaisted, ripped black skinny jeans and your studded Doc Martens. What you decided to do with your hair and makeup will come to you once you hit the venue. You gathered your things to pack into the car while Julie made some final accessory details to your look. She handed you your chain to attach to your jeans along with an assortment of rings and bracelets. Everything was looking perfect for your first big performance as the lead singer.

“Okay, I gotta head to the venue for soundcheck. You, Flynn and the boys should be there around 6, the show starts at 7:00.” You smile, dropping her off at her house. You see the boys sitting in the garage waving at you. You smile and wave back before backing out of Molina's driveway and head towards The Orpheum.

Soundcheck went perfectly and it left a little time to grab a light snack before you had to get ready. You knew not to go to the street dogs stand after the incident with the boys that ended their lives 25 years ago before they met Julie and you and somehow were brought back by the two of you. Your drummer’s girlfriend decided to have catering come out with healthy choices which you were enjoying as we speak. Heading back to your dressing room the security guard stopped you saying there was a group of people here to see the band.

“Oh that’s my friends from school, you can let them on back. Thanks Alan!” You smile popping a strawberry in your mouth.

“You didn’t tell me you were playing the Orpheum!” You hear Flynn yell causing you to turn around with a piece of cantaloupe hanging out of your mouth.

“Well you didn’t ask.” You say chewing the part that was in your mouth.

“Okay smartass. Also when did you change your hair color?” She asks pointing to your now orange hair. You smile slyly at her.

“I did last night, but I wore it up in a hat today so people didn’t see it until now.” You say getting up to hug your friends. The boys are just standing at the door staring at you.

“I don’t bite, you can come in.” You joke ushering them in.

“You’re playing the Orpheum tonight Y/N how does it feel to make it big?” Alex asks.

“I’m not sure yet, maybe I’ll know after the show. Which speaking of that when you guys head down to the floor just find Alan and he’ll take you to the spot that’s reserved for you guys.” You smile at them.

“Your hair is so bright.” Is all Reggie can say making everyone burst out laughing.

“I can’t wait to see you shred the stage tonight. That day at rehearsal when you and Julie were goofing off… Holy shit, that was sick!” Luke says jumping up and down.

“It runs in the family to be honest. Our moms were in a band when they were our age and my dad is a world known rockstar so I learned at a young age.” You smile winking at Julie.

“Well we should start heading down so you can get ready. We are going to dinner after this to celebrate just so you know.” Julie says smiling at you. Once they left you started getting ready to meet up with your band to do your before show ritual handshake.

“All right guys, this is the Orpheum. The place is packed with execs. This will be our big break. Let’s rock it!” Andrew says putting his hand in the middle as the rest of you follow. The opening band finishes their set signaling your time to go. The band runs out causing the crowd to erupt in screams of your name. You stay back to surprise everyone as they begin playing your new song.

“Los Angeles! Are you ready!” You scream from backstage as the beat picks up.

Things are looking up, oh finally!

I thought I'd never see the day

When you smile at me.

We always pull through, oh when we try,

I'm always wrong but you're never right.

Oh you're never right!

You run out causing everyone to scream as you work the stage to the music. Luke, Flynn and the boys look up in awe hearing your voice for the first time. The way you rocked out was breathtaking to Luke.

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

And it's not a dream anymore!

No. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

You interacted with the audience as you sang the lyrics. You shot a wink over at Luke when you noticed his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Julie looked over at him and knew right then and there he has fallen in love with you even more than he already was. She smiled at her bandmate. She saw the smile break across his face as he began banging his head to the beat.

Could have given up so easily

I was a few cheap shots away from the end of me

Taken for granted, almost everything that I would have died for

Just yesterday,

Just yesterday

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

It's not a dream anymore!

Oh. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

You interacted with your bandmates as they played their instruments, dancing around the stage as you had the time of your life. Jumping and head banging with your guitarist.

God knows the world doesn't need another band, (whoa, whoa!)

But what a waste it would've been! (whoa, whoa!)

I can't believe we almost hung it up (whoa, whoa!)

We're just getting started (whoa, whoa!)

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

It's not a dream anymore!

Oh. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

You stood there smiling, taking a breath letting the crowd think you were done before you jumped off the drum stage singing the final line of the song.

I can't believe we almost hung it up!(whoa whoa)

We're just getting started! (whoa whoa)

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

You dropped to your knees as you held the final verse as the lights went out sending the crowd into a fit of cheers and screams. You smile to yourself as you hold the microphone in your lap. The lights come back on letting you see the crowd still cheering you on. The surreal feeling you had was causing your heart to sing and you were pretty sure you saw a sign off in the distance of the audience that let you know your mother was proud of you. Composing yourself, you finished the night with 6 more songs.

“Thank you guys for coming out to support a small band from this sleepless city. We are Paramore! Good night!” You said before running off backstage. You are met with your friends and a very starstruck Luke.

“Oh my god! That was amazing! I mean we knew you could sing but that was epic! Why haven’t you fronted before?” Flynn asks.

“Jackie wouldn’t let me. The band was my idea back when I was slowly getting back into music but I was still wanting to stay back and play. I wrote all the songs and let her sing them. When I finally said I was ready for a shot she threw a fit and when the rest of the band sided with me she walked.” You say taking a swig of water.

“So this is why you refused to join us?” Alex asks.

“That and your style isn’t my style of music. It’s to pop centric but I told Julie there might be a chance of collaboration in the future.” You smile seeing Reggie get excited about the idea.

“And then we can do a country album!” He yells causing your bandmates to start laughing at your reactions. During your laughter you didn’t see a man dressed very businessy walk in.

“Y/N…” Julie says tapping your shoulder pointing to the doorway.

“Oh, hi!” You say walking over with your band to meet the man.

“I’m Eric from Capitol records. Are you Y/N?” He asks.

“Um, y-yeah I am.” You say reaching out to shake his hand. Your friends are eavesdropping behind you while pretending to hold a conversation of their own.

“I’ve seen many bands here, I’ve scouted some of the biggest names in music but the energy you displayed tonight is something we’ve never seen but have been looking for, for our label. Capitol records would be happy to have you join. Here’s my card. Give me a call and we will set up a meeting with the head of the label and get you signed.” He says handing you his card.

“Oh my, wow! Thank you. Also if you don’t mind me spreading the word but I know of another you might be interested in. I’ll send you their latest video if you’re up for it.” You smile sneaking a look over at your friend and her bandmates.

“Of course, we are always looking for new talents.” He says before exiting the room.

“Was that?! YES!” You scream jumping into Luke’s arms. Everyone starts dancing around cheering.

“We are being signed to Capitol Records!” You yell into the air as Luke holds you close to him. His eyes never leave your smiling face. He throws caution to the wind when you look back at him and he crashes his lips onto yours making everyone stop and gasp.

“Well it's about damn time!” Alex shouts as you two pull away.

“Well damn Patterson, if that’s what I get for getting signed I wonder what I’ll get after I tell you I sent your video to him as well.” You smile.

“YOU DID WHAT?!” The band screams together.

“We’re all getting signed.” You smile.

“I’m going to marry this girl.” Luke says kissing you once more with more passion than the first. Everything was falling perfectly into place and you couldn’t wait to see what the future holds for you all.

I don't know how good this is, it sounded good and looked good when I was writing so I’m throwing caution to the wind and going for it.

@parkeret I promised I’d tag you in my first one, I hope it doesn't suck!

@issaxcharlie thank you for also pushing me to do this as well!

@cookiebuba

#luke patterson x reader #luke jatp #luke patterson #julie and the phantoms #jatp alex #jatp reggie #julie x reader #julie and the phantoms imagine #charlie gillespie #jatp luke #jatp imagine

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jennagrinsoverml · 3 years

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20 Questions: Writer’s Edition

Thanks @kasienda for the tag!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

197,322

Although this includes two fics co-written with Karen, the other half of my main, so my personal total is lower. Of course, it also excludes quite a bit of writing I did before I created my AO3 account, so it probably evens out lol)

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

I’ve written for more fandoms than you see on AO3 since I haven’t transferred over any of my old stuff (and have no intention of doing so.)

Unless I’m forgetting any, there’s 8: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, Charmed, Sailor Moon, Digimon, Avengers, Darkest Powers, Miraculous Ladybug. There’s also the Magic Mike fic I wrote as a joke for my friends back in 2004, but we don’t talk about that lmaooo

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Standard Deviation (Steve/Tony, Avengers)

The Closest Thing to Love (Love Square, Miraculous Ladybug)

Extrapolation ( (Steve/Tony, Avengers - the E-rated sequel to SD)

You Know Where My Heart Is (Love Square, Miraculous Ladybug)

La Soeur de Mon Coeur (Love Square, Miraculous Ladybug)

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I definitely try! I’ve fallen behind and haven’t answered comments in a couple of weeks, but I will be playing catch up at some point. I just like to thank people for taking the time to comment, but I especially love when readers comment on a specific aspect of the fic and give me an excuse to talk about my writing lol

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Love Without Weakness ends pretty angsty, although I fix it in the sequels. And although I’ve been trying to write a second chapter to all this hope you sent into the sky (by now had crashed), I haven’t managed it yet, so as it stands its ending is pure angst.

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics end pretty happily! The Closest Thing to Love, La Soeur de Mon Coeur and On Bended Knee all end with (SPOILER ALERT) engagements, which is pretty damn happy! So until I get around to writing that wedding fic I’ve been planning, I guess I’ll have to say these.

8. Do you write crossovers? If yes, what’s the craziest thing you’ve written?

My very first fanfic was a Buffy/Charmed crossover lmaoooo. It might still be floating out there somewhere, I don’t know, I’m too afraid to check. I also have a half-written Sailor Moon/Digimon crossover fic on my hard drive that I started I think in high school? It will never be finished lol I’m not really interested in crossovers anymore though, and doubt I’ll write any in the future. Although I will be subtly stealing characters from other shows to round out the cast of my Big Bang fic since if I wanted to invent a million OCs I’d write original fic lol

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes. I’ve been posting on the internet since 1999 and ff.net was terrible for that.

10. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do, but feel like I’m definitely in the minority for that in ML fandom. Most fandoms I’ve been in ALL the big fics end with smut (or start with it or feature it throughout lol). But ML seems to prefer the more innocent stuff.

Extrapolation, mentioned above, is the E-rated sequel to mine and Karen’s Steve/Tony Avengers college AU friends to lovers fic showing that transition to the lovers part of it. It’s not intercourse

Love Without Lies and Love Without Limits are the two sequels to Love Without Weakness that again focus on that transition to a sexual relationship. First through dirty talk/fantasy, and then the reality of it.

Sex, Interrupted has non-explicit smut with married with kids sex. I tried to show something loving and desirous, but with the comfort of having been with the same person for a very long time after that initial passion and excitement has long since faded away.

Sweet, Sweet Fantasy was basically written because I hadn’t written a love square blow job and I wanted to fix that lmaoooo It’s just smut for the fun of it.

I guess all of my smut could be characterized as loving, sex positive and consensual.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! A lovely reader translated Standard Deviation into Chinese and we got all kinds of fanart from those readers and it was a wonderful, wonderful experience. This was almost 10 years ago and it still makes me so happy every time I think of it.

I also got a request to translate The Closest Thing to Love into Russian, which I’ve agreed to.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, published there’s Standard Deviation and Extrapolation, as mentioned above.

My best friend at the time and I had written more than half of a Sailor Moon Christmas fic back in undergrad, and had the rest of it plotted out. It would’ve been amazing if we had finished it. Sadly she moved on from the fandom before we could finish it, and we’re no longer friends, so it will probably live half-written on my hard drive for eternity.

And @chatonne-rousse and I have a few planned fics, but we haven’t started any of the actual writing yet, so we’ll see.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

This is hard to answer for me because yes, right now I’m in full love square obsessive mode, but I’ve been here before. And while I’ve never written so much for any other pairing, I don’t know if it’s my ALL TIME favourite ship.

Like, Usagi/Mamoru is my original OTP and the fandom I return to over and over again through the years, even if I haven’t written anything for them since 2002 lol And I’ve found myself returning to Darcy/Elizabeth many times as well. By contrast, Buffy/Angel was the first ship I ever wrote for and it’s probably still the couple I’ve written the most fics for by number, but I don’t really think about them anymore.

Will Love Square be one of those ships I keep coming back to? Only time will tell.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I still feel sad that Karen and I didn’t finish Confidence Interval, our planned third fic in the Statistically Significant universe. About half of that is written, but we kept running into issues with the plot and it wasn’t coming together and then we both lost our Avengers hyperfixation.

For ML, I’m not sure. I know objectively that I can’t possibly finish all of my WIPs. I just don’t have enough time. But I’m still hopeful that I’ll get to them all!

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Dialogue.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

Description.

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

I’m not a fan.

I spent a long time in anime fandoms and there was a tendency to have random Japanese phrases and words floating in the fic. I probably did it too at some point.

But it’s kind of stupid? Like, the anime characters are speaking Japanese, the ML characters are speaking French. Regardless of what language you’re writing in, that’s the language of the characters. So when you randomly use words from that language, it’s pointless and usually just fucks up the grammar and syntax and, for me, distracts from the story.

I think it’s okay when you’re using an expression that doesn’t directly translate, or are using the French to make a pun work (because, of course, Adrien would be punning in French) or are using Chat or one of their nicknames. I think it has effect there.

But generally, I just don’t see the point. Sorry if that’s kinda salty.

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

My very first fic was a Buffy/Charmed crossover, and then I wrote a bunch of BtVS fics.

20. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

The Closest Thing to Love. I spent about 6-8 months working on that fic obsessively, to the point where I could barely even handle reading other people’s fics because I kept getting distracted with thoughts of my own. But I’m so happy and proud of how that one turned out! It’s the longest fic I’ve ever written on my own, and I’m so pleased with how it came together.

Thanks for giving me the chance to ramble on about myself, @kasidenda! lol

Tagging: @chatonne-rousse, @somethingvaguetodo, @overworkedunderwhelmed, and anyone else who wants to play!

#my thoughts #life of a writer #ask games #(not really but I don't have a tag for these kinds of things)

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livingmybestfictionallife · 4 years

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I’m Glass

Anon Request: Mgk and reader's first appearance together publically? Or their first time openly talking about each other in an interview?

Hauntober Prompt: Leaves

A/N: I own the poem in this story. Do NOT take or repost the poem without credit to me.

It seemed innocent enough...at first. It was supposed to be a voice-over recording for a song, but when Colson got the idea of making a music video instead, the innocence seemed to fade away.

(Y/N) had known Colson since he first moved to Los Angeles. She too was one of the many people who trekked across the country in search of fame of any sorts. She had a talented voice and was a brilliant writer, both with songs and literature, but she didn’t even begin to see the amount of fame the scrawny kid from Cleveland now known as Machine Gun Kelly had acquired over the years.

She found a simple life in LA, befriended photographers, helped open a fairly popular coffee shop, and continued to pursue her dream of writing. She never thought she would see Colson again face to face, but a friend of hers was close to Machine Gun Kelly’s manager, Ashleigh VeVerka. After a poetry reading at the coffee shop (Y/N) co-owned, her friend found a poem left behind at the coffee shop and brought the piece to Ashleigh.

(Y/N) was more than shocked to see the gangly blonde man she’d met so many years ago. Colson’s lips fell into a tight smile as he noticed the woman who was the first person to show him genuine support in his new town. He never forgot her. Even when he was dating model and actresses, (Y/N) was still in his mind--a constant question of ‘what if?’. Seeing her before him, standing there in a metal t-shirt, high-waisted jeans, and Doc Martens, Colson felt as if he was the same person he was when they first met. Suddenly, it felt like she was his truest supporter and the rest of the world had faded into a bleak distant memory.

It didn’t take him long to reconnect with (Y/N), and it took even less time for him to ask her to dinner and on a number of proper dates before he proposed they label their relationship. As their relationship progressed, Colson grew much more comfortable asking (Y/N) for her input with lyrics. One night, after drinking a bottle of wine each, he asked about the poem Ashleigh had received.

“Do you know who wrote it? She said your friend found it at your store after a reading,” Colson tried not to slur his words as drunken curiosity came over him and he pulled a small, pocket-sized piece of notebook with sharp and precise letters inked across the lines. (Y/N)’s eyes scanned the page briefly without even reading the words on the page.

“Th-this is mine, Colson,” she stammered as she sat up from laying against her boyfriend’s chest between his legs.

“No way? You wrote this?!” The wicked grin that spread across his face quickly infected his girlfriend as a crooked smile formed over her face in return.

“Yes? Why?” Her cheeks were red and hot with anxiety and anticipation of his feedback. Even when they met, she kept her works close to her chest, and before this excerpt, Colson hadn’t read a word of anything (Y/N) had written. It was astounding to him how someone as talented as her didn’t find the stroke of luck he had that made him everything he was today.

“I love it! I’ve been holding onto it since Ashleigh gave it to me before I saw you again. It’s that kind of raw, personal shit that resonates,” he slurred as he looked at the woman before him. “Damn, you’re incredible.”

It didn’t take long for Colson to decide he was going to incorporate (Y/N)’s poem into one of his songs, but it took much longer for him to convince her to read the poem aloud as a voice-over recording. She was still a nobody in the world and he was MGK; their relationship was a secret from everyone other than the people closest to them. The world had no idea the bad boy of the rap and punk scene was in a serious, committed relationship with a woman he cherished. He wanted to scream it from the highest rooftops, but (Y/N) knew better than to let the world become involved in their personal lives. She was normal, a private and discreet person who would lose all sense of privacy upon being even remotely connected to a star like Colson. If the press learned she was in a relationship with a woman who works in a coffee shop, her life would turn upside down, and that wasn’t something Colson wanted to put (Y/N) through.

“Are you sure?” she asked after he explained that the voice recording was turning into a music video.

“It will be amazing! It’s just going to be you and me in the woods. They’re even having a special dress made for you to wear in the video!” The excitement in Colson’s eyes was too much for her to deny him of. She trusted him and knew that he knew what he was doing. (Y/N) would have loved to tell more than four people about the amazing man she’d come to love, but there was a hesitancy in her, a doubt that she never wanted to address but knew she would inevitably have to: would their relationship last through the public scrutiny? He couldn’t hide away for the rest of his life or pretend he was single whenever he was deeply committed tot his amazing person that he was more than blessed to have met let alone fallen in love with.

On the day of the shoot, too many nerves had strung themselves out all throughout (Y/N)’s body. Her neck and shoulders were tight and she tried her hardest to loosen up in front of the camera.With a deep breath, she allowed herself to relax into the curve of Colson’s body as he lay in the grass. A cool breeze tossed a strand of her hair over her shoulder, and the gentle touch of Colson’s fingertips against her cheek helped to put her mind at ease. With a deep breath, (Y/N) rolled onto her back; her head rested on Colson’s shoulder as his arm wrapped around her back. Together, they gazed up at the branches above them. Pale shades of orange, rich yellows, and deep reds hung above them and fluttered in the gentle tossing of the wind. Soft whistles captivated their attention as they watched the leaves dance in the air. Glints and gleams of the sun’s rays had poked through the branches of the trees surrounding them, and both Colson and (Y/N) had forgotten they were being filmed, that their actions and words were being documented and would be publicly accessible in a matter of weeks if not days from now.

“Did you ever think the world could be so peaceful?” Colson’s voice broke through the silence.

“Your world or mine?” (Y/N) asked with a smile curled onto her face.

“This is us. Together. It’s our world,” Colson deep voice firmly stated as he leaned forward and propped himself up on his elbows.

“You’re you. Colson Baker. Machine Gun Kelly.” Her voice was becoming distant as she fixated on how different the pair were. “You’re electricity; vibrant, energetic, lively... me?

I am glass,

Shards of glass

Strung together by an invisible thread of hope,

A hope which I refuse to believe in

Because hope has broken me

Too many times.

Yet I hold on,

Because it allows me

To help piece you back together.

And I think: Will we work?”

Colson’s breath hitched in his throat as (Y/N) effortlessly delivered the words she’d written about him in secret so many years ago. Without hesitation but wit delicate care, Colson leaned over and pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s forehead. With a soft breath escaping his lips, he smiled against her soft skin and said, “Yes, I think we will.” Again, his lips lowered to meet any part of (Y/N) they could find, and this time, they were fortunate enough to graze her mouth.

The pair moved together into the kiss, adjusting their bodies and mouths to best accommodate the other’s body and mouth. The moment they shared together was gentle and passionate and wrapped in desire and intimacy. In that moment, (Y/N) suddenly became aware of the cameras pointed in their direction, but it didn’t seem to matter. She was happy. The answer to her question posed in a poem years ago had come in the form of the man she loved, a brisk fall day, and a kiss she never wanted to end.

#colson baker #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker fanfic #colson baker x reader #anon request #mgk #mgk request #mgk x reader #mgk fanfic #mgk fanfiction #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfiction #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly fluff #machine gun kelly request #colson baker request #colson baker fluff

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

only the black rose (chapter 5)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: talks of parental abandonment, off-scene injury, drug use (legal!), fluff, and me waxing poetic about one of my favourite books. and more fluff.

words: 3.1k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: this one wrote itself. i expected to take longer with it cause of this. this is the start of the Chaos seen in the 1975 North American tour, so hold onto your hats and enjoy! congrats! you’ve unlocked layla’s tragic backstory! unbeta’d as always, and here’s the link to the playlist :)

masterlist

playlist

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

----------

Soon enough, the band make their way home, basking in the golden glow of a couple of excellent shows. It’s only a matter of days until the start of the North American tour, and the excitement is palpable. The boys find themselves at the studio, running through some last-minute tour details, accompanied by a certain brunette firecracker, who sits reading comfortably in the lobby.

Layla, sitting on a luxurious couch just outside of the meeting room, is drowning in a hardcover book, consuming every word at a ravenous pace. The sound of pages flipping periodically is accompanied by the light din of voices detailing the upcoming tour. Lost in the story in front of her, she is surprised when she hears a person clearing their throat, seemingly right in front of her. Looking up, she spots the secretary of Swan Song Records, a woman with glasses and long brown hair ran through with gray, pinned up in a low bun. Light freckles dusted her cheeks. Judging by the crow’s feet at the corners of her hazel eyes, the secretary had to have been older than Layla, perhaps around 50, though her bright smile gave the impression of youth.

“Sorry to interrupt, Miss… I just couldn’t help but notice the book you were reading. I don’t see many fans of the classics around here, especially ones so young.”

Recovering from the shock of being ripped out of the hypnotising story she was wrapped up in, Layla gestures to the seat next to her. With a bright smile, the secretary smoothes down her pencil skirt, and sits down.

“My mother was a literature buff, and it seems she’s passed that down to me! My name’s Layla. You’re Evelyn, right?”

“Y-Yes, I am! How do you…”

“Well, I had to put a name to the lovely secretary that gives me a smile whenever I see her. Makes my day, if I’m being honest.”

“You’re too sweet, darling,” Evelyn says, lips turning up warmly, eyes dancing with joy. “If I may, what are your thoughts on the book? It’s a personal favourite of mine, and it’s always nice to hear new opinions.”

“Well,” Layla starts, lighting up as she speaks. “Wilde’s language paints such a beautiful, vivid picture, and the characters are so interesting, even if they aren’t morally likeable, most of the time. They make mistakes… Many mistakes… but we sympathize with them.”

At this, Layla cups her hand around her mouth, whispering to Evelyn mischievously, as if what she was about to say was the world’s most important secret.

“It’s a favourite of mine too.”

The two women laugh, Evelyn’s hand falling across Layla’s arm, a comforting, grounding weight. Evelyn, with a warm smile gracing her face, crow’s feet as prominent as ever, sends a pang of longing into Layla’s heart. Not for love, but for her old life. Her friends worried out of their minds over her disappearance; her mother, left alone not once, but twice. Her father had left when she was a child, and it had been her and her mother ever since. Layla learned to put up walls, so that she’d never be hurt like that again. They all leave in the end. It’s better that way. Better not to get attached. Better not to get hurt.

“That’s a lovely interpretation, Layla. You know,” Evelyn says, interrupting Layla’s train of thought. “For someone so young, you have an old soul. Wise beyond your years, for sure.”

“You have no idea…”

“Well, I must get to work, darling,” Evelyn claps her hands together, and stands up, resting a hand on Layla’s arm once more. “I’d love to chat again, though. Such refreshing opinions from such a young woman. I’ll let you get back to your book.”

“I would love to! We’ll make plans soon, I promise. Have a wonderful day, Evelyn!” With that, Layla opens the novel, and is taken once again by the current of the story. Minutes pass, until Layla is interrupted once more, this time by a soft press of lips against the crown of her head.

“Everything alright, Layla?”

“Of course, Jim,” Layla says, reaching out to grasp Jimmy’s hand in return. “How did the meeting go?”

“Well, you were right outside the door, I’m surprised you didn’t eavesdrop,” He takes a seat beside her, and reaches down to tap at the book still nestled in Layla’s hand, her finger keeping the page. “You were too engrossed in this, I bet. What are you reading anyways?”

Layla lifts the book to show the cover, which is a slightly worn navy blue, with golden accents in the form of small droplets. In metallic lettering, read ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’.

“Oscar Wilde, hey? Wouldn’t have pegged you for a lover of the classics.”

“I spent my teenage years with Austen and Dickens, after all.”

“I didn’t think you were that old.”

Layla rolls her eyes, a fond look upon her features. Smiling at the man in front of her, she puts a hand to his cheek.

“Yeah, I’m a real cradle-robber.”

“Just make sure my mum doesn’t hear about this relationship: she’ll have a fit.”

“I’ll be careful, angel,” Layla laughs, putting a pensive finger to her chin. “Hey, Jimmy? Do you have a good relationship with your parents?” Jimmy smiles wide at the question and nods, dark curls bobbing at the movement. He absentmindedly takes Layla’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb in soft circles across her wrist.

“My parents… They’ve always been very supportive of me in every way, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to find a way to thank them,” Jimmy squeezes her hand briefly, meeting her eyes. “You know, I bet they’d love you.”

“Do you really think so?” Layla’s cheeks grow warm, and her lips tilt upwards in a smile that is uncharacteristically shy.

“Of course I do, petal,” Jimmy says, pushing a fallen lock of hair behind Layla’s ear, his touch featherlight. “How about you? What are your parents like?”

“Well… My dad… He left us when I was young, so it’s been me and my mom ever since,” This is marked with a moment of silence, and Layla’s eyes meet her shoes, pointedly not looking at Jimmy. “My mom’s probably the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I truly can’t thank her enough for everything she’s done for me. She’s my best friend.”

The silence continues, until Layla feels a calloused finger at her jaw, lifting her chin. Finally flicking her eyes up to gaze at the guitarist, she’s shocked by the concern and sadness she sees in those emerald green eyes.

“Petal, I…”

“Jim, it’s fine. It—”

“It’s not fine, Layla. It’s not. I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve that. Either of you.” Jimmy pulls her into a tight hug, long arms wrapping around her, making her feel safe. They stay like this for what feels like hours, breaking apart slowly.

“Jimmy, I… Thank you.”

“Of course. Now, how about you read me some of that book of yours?”

Layla laughs brightly, albeit a little watery, and smiles at Jimmy, eyes shining with gratitude. Shuffling, she positions herself in his lap, legs hanging off the end of the couch as his arm comes to rest across her back, holding her steady against his chest. She opens the book, dog-earing the corner of the page she was reading, before flipping back to the start.

“Petal, as much as I like this, I thought we were gonna take it slow? I don’t think public places are the best idea to… Well…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jimmy,” Layla says, smirk gracing her face as she speaks. “You just make a very comfortable chair.”

Jimmy’s laugh is music to her ears, and she presses a light kiss to his cheek. Focusing on the book in her hand, she begins to read:

“The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.”

----------

‘Was it all true? Had the portrait really changed? Or had it been simply his own imagination that had made him see a look of evil where there had been a look of joy?’

The next day had arrived, and Layla sits at her kitchen table, enraptured once again by the writings of Oscar Wilde. The words on the page enchant her, and she has no desire to put the novel down anytime soon. She’d have to tell Evelyn all about it, the next time she sees her.

‘Surely a painted canvas could not alter? The thing was absurd. It would serve as a tale to tell Basil some day. It would make him smile. And, yet, how vivid was his recollection—’

A shrill ringing pulls her out of the carefully crafted narrative of Dorian Gray. Layla huffs, annoyed at the intrusion, and moves to pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Layla! Hi, good to hear from you, hope you’re having a great day so far! Lovely weather we’re having, hey?” The slightly nasal voice of one Robert Plant, crackles through the phone, and Layla sighs at his exuberance.

“Robert, hey. What is it?”

“Uh… Please don’t freak out. It’s really not that bad, and everyone is… mostly… fine?”

“Rob—”

This is followed by a noise in the background, a sort of crackle, as if Robert had shifted the phone to his other hand. Layla can hear the way his breath picks up, the way panic seeps into his voice. “Just a heads up that we’ll be at your place in about… 10 minutes! See you then!”

“What is going on? I was reading, I’m really not in the mood for—”

Another crackle, and a sigh from Robert’s end of the line. Layla runs a hand through her hair, biting her lip in an attempt to quell the panic rising in her throat.

“Promise me you won’t freak out, little dove.”

Layla exhales sharply through her nose, unimpressed at the plea of the man on the other line. Coiling the telephone cord around her finger to calm her nerves, she responds.

“Fine, I’m not gonna freak out. Now, tell me what happened.”

“Well… Um… Jimmy, well, he kinda… got his… finger slammed in a train door?”

“...”

“Layla? Are you still there?”

“How?!”

“I told you not to freak out…”

“Robert!” Layla exclaims, concern painted clearly on her flushed face.

“Okay, okay, he told us he was holding the door open for someone on the way to Swan Song, and well… You know the rest.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

Another sigh sounds from the other line, and Layla waits in anticipation for his response, growing anxious with each passing moment. Finally, she hears the man’s response, and deflates with relief, sinking into the chair beside her.

“He should be fine. Like I said before, we’re gonna come get you right away. He’ll be okay, Layla.”

“Okay…Robert?”

“Yes, little dove?

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Robert chuckles lightly, bringing a smile to Layla’s face, the undercurrent of anxiety still coursing through her. She thinks it will stay that way, until she sees Jimmy, makes sure he’s okay. “We’ll be there in 10 minutes. Sit tight, Layla.”

Layla sits at the kitchen table, biting her thumbnail, mind elsewhere, until she hears the telltale sound of a car pulling up, engine cutting out. Flying out the door, She spots Jonesy in the driver’s seat, Bonzo next to him, with Robert in the back. Opening the door, she sits next to the blond, and he gazes over at her, putting a hand to her shoulder. Sympathy flashes across his face as he takes in the shocked look Layla’s sporting.

“He’ll be okay, Layla. He will.”

“Robert, I… Jonesy, please, just drive?”

“Right.”

The engine rumbles to life, and they’re off, no doubt speeding to whatever hospital Jimmy’s holed up in. Layla lets her thoughts drift to Jimmy. She wonders how he’s doing, if he’s in any pain, if they’re treating him well. She’s distracted enough that she barely feels Robert’s hand, warm and comforting, on her knee. Layla is snapped out of her thoughts by a particularly sharp turn, and she looks up at Robert, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Rob… What if he’s… not okay? It was his finger. That means that he might not be able to play, if it’s bad enough,” She stammers, eyes frantic in their search of the blond’s face. “His guitar is his life, and—”

“Layla, calm down. It’ll be okay. It won’t do us any good to think like that.” Robert leans over, throwing his arm around her shoulder as best he could in the cramped car. To his surprise, she leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Layla unconsciously brings a hand up to bite her thumbnail, and catching the action, Robert places his hand on hers, pushing it back down to rest in her lap. They stay that way until the car rolls to a stop in the hospital parking lot. Layla lifts her head from Robert’s shoulder with breakneck speed, scrambling out of the car.

“Layla, wait!” Jonesy calls out, running after the woman, who dashes through the door. Robert and Bonzo catch up, just as Layla reaches the front desk, panting from exertion. The nurse on shift looks at her, eyes wide, shocked at the display.

“Excuse me, love,” Bonzo says, tucking Layla under his arm as he speaks to the nurse. “We’re looking for James Page? He was brought in for a fractured finger, I believe?”

“...Yes, right. What is your relationship with the patient?”

“We’re his bandmates, we can call our manager if you need proof. Please, we just need to see if he’s okay.”

The nurse eyes the group dubiously, and grabs the chart sitting next to her, looking through it. Glancing at the group again, she points behind them, to a room packed with seats, posters and pamphlets lining the walls.

“It seems that Mr. Page is still with the doctor getting X-rayed, so I’m going to need you to take a seat in the waiting area. Give that manager of yours a call, and we’ll see what we can do for you.”

“Thank you, love.” Bonzo says, as he herds the group over to the soft, patterned armchairs, plopping down with a sigh. Jonesy excuses himself to make a phone call to Peter, the others left waiting for news that won’t come fast enough.

Jimmy has to be okay. He has to.

----------

“For James Page?” The nurse’s voice rings out across the waiting area, and the group shoot up from their seats, stiff backs groaning in protest. “Follow me.”

The nurse leads them through a labyrinth of hallways, stopping finally at a room with a large 164 pasted on the closed door. Through the window looking into the room, Layla spots Jimmy asleep under the covers, his hands atop the sheets, resting on his stomach. He looks peaceful, she thinks, like he’s devoid of pain. If she couldn’t see the injured hand at all, she’d have thought he was perfectly fine.

The group finally walk into the room, the sharp smell of antiseptic burning their nostrils. Hearing the click of the door opening, Jimmy opens his eyes, pupils blown wide. His irises are almost black, and he sends them a dopey smile, a giggle bursting out.

“Hey, guys. Fancy seeing you all here.” Jimmy slurs, laughing harder now, as though he had told the most hilarious joke in the world. The boys join in, amused by the antics of their guitarist. Layla hangs back, staring at Jimmy, concern clear on her face. She had spotted the injured finger on the way in, which was already bruised a deep purple, the fingernail completely blackened.

“They give you the good stuff, Pagey?”

“You know it, Jonesy.” Jimmy shoots the bassist a sloppy wink, and the group erupts into soft laughter once more. Taking a dazed glance around the room, the raven-haired man pouts, completely endearing in his drugged state. “Hey… where’s Layla?”

Peter, who had been standing next to the bed, moves aside, and glassy green met warm brown. The guitarist smiles softly, relaxing back into the pillows. He sticks out his uninjured hand, and she walks closer to take it. Never lessening her grip, Layla threads the fingers of her free hand through Jimmy’s messy curls, and looks down at him fondly.

“How’re you doing, champ?”

“Good, now that you’re here. I would kiss you right now… if I wasn’t seeing two of you.”

“They must have him on the really good stuff…” Layla throws over her shoulder, looking back at the injured guitarist. He’s looking up at her with unabashed affection, and she can’t help but blush at the adoration in his gaze.

“Sorry to interrupt,” comes from the open doorway, as Jimmy’s doctor steps through. “I’m Dr. Vane, I treated James when he came in. If you’d kindly step out for a moment, I’d like to go over his prognosis.”

The boys file out of the room, and Layla goes to follow, stopped in her tracks by Jimmy tugging her back towards him with a whimper. She gives in, sinking back down in the chair at his bedside.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Jimmy. I was so scared when Robert called. I thought...”

“I’m glad you’re here, petal. Now, come into bed with me. I want to see you better.” Jimmy mutters, scooting over to make room for her to fit in the small hospital bed. Layla laughs, nodding, and crawls in beside him, careful not to hurt him. She turns on her side, her hand landing in his hair again. Jimmy looks up at her, pupils still dilated, and presses a quick peck on her lips, giggling anew.

“You’re so beautiful. Have I ever told you that you’re beautiful? ‘Cause you are.” He insists, slurred speech returning in full force, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Go to sleep, Jimmy. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He hums softy in response and a few seconds later, Jimmy’s breathing evens out. He’s dead to the world. Through the door left ajar, Layla can hear snippets of the conversation with the doctor.

“... Fractured the tip of his finger… At least a month.”

“Will he be able to play anytime soon?” That was Peter, voice soft with worry for the frail man in the hospital bed.

“He should rest… Not good to put too much strain on it… Keeping him here until the anaesthetic wears off.”

Tuning them out, Layla looks down at the man sleeping beside her. His hair is matted on one side of his head, and he snores louder than he’d ever admit, but he looks peaceful. He’s not in any pain, and that’s enough for Layla. She drifts off, as the sound of footsteps against the floor draw near. Her tired eyes open to slits, and she sees a shadow with dark, shoulder-length and a beard. It must be Bonzo, she thinks. The last thing Layla hears before succumbing to the exhaustion that plagues her, is the drummer’s soothing voice, hushed to a whisper.

“Let them sleep.”

----------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 (let me know if you want to be added!)

#only the black rose #led zeppelin #jimmy page #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fanfic #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic #jimmy x oc

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shefanispeculator · 3 years

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I'm slightly disappointed to log onto Zoom and find Gwen Stefani in Los Angeles. I wanted to see the ranch. Stefani spent most of the pandemic in Oklahoma with her fiancé and fellow The Voice coach Blake Shelton, with whom she has recently collaborated on a string of country radio hits, alongside a kitsch Christmas song. For a ska-pop superstar, it's a pivot, but Stefani and Shelton are cute together — picture-perfect in their opposite attraction.

Country Gwen exists, her urban counterpart assures me, but on this particular MacBook she's nowhere to be seen. I'm not sure what crude regional stereotypes I was expecting (Stefani spitting sunflower seeds? Shelton line dancing in the background?) but I get Californian sunshine instead, illuminating a version of Stefani more familiar from my teenage years, when Love. Angel. Music. Baby and its follow-up The Sweet Escape spawned millions of fans, haters and imitators. She's platinum blonde, red lipsticked and wearing a black-and-white outfit that matches the decor. The checkerboard pattern can be traced back to an even earlier era, when Stefani and her No Doubt bandmates were '80s teenagers obsessed with two-tone acts like Madness and The Specials.

Cowboy boots wouldn't fit this picture, and nor would Stefani's glitzy showgirl outfits from The Voice, where she just wrapped another season as a celebrity coach. As she prepares to release her fourth solo record, and enters the fifth decade of an extraordinarily successful music career, Gwen Stefani is re-re-branding as... Gwen Stefani.

Top: Local Boogeyman, Pants: GCDS, Shoes: Valentino, Earrings, bracelets and rings: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience), Necklaces: Gwen's own, Engagement ring: Gwen's own

"But what is that?" Stefani asks with seriousness, as we consider the possibility of some essential, inherent Gwen. "Everyone's interpretation of what I am and how I sing, I mean, that's what this era is about for me."

Said era kicked off late last year, with the music video for "Let Me Reintroduce Myself." It saw Stefani playfully revisit the wardrobes of album cycles past, from the ab-bearing tomboy tank tops of "Hollaback Girl" to the club kid blue hair mascara of '90s No Doubt. Her Harajuku Girls also make a return. The entire visual is a huge flex, not only for the sheer volume of iconic career moments recreated in dutiful detail, but the fact Stefani can still fit into the clothes originally worn during all of them. She looks eerily the same, frighteningly good, ageing in reverse at the same pace as her frequent collaborator Pharrell.

"It's really a blessing to be able to have such a long career, where there really is nothing to prove anymore."

Pop stars are expected to be young forever, in looks but also in their capacity to innovate new trends. Which makes the nostalgic music video a curious choice. Doesn't Stefani know by now that the cardinal rule of pop is to avoid repeating yourself? That even the hottest artists in the world are basically required by law to create completely new eras from scratch every six months in order to appease fans and maintain maximum TikTok-ready relevance?

Of course she does, but that doesn't mean she has to participate. Stefani isn't trying to chase down her contemporaries, despite clearly possessing the physical fitness required. "It's really a blessing to be able to have such a long career, where there really is nothing to prove anymore," she says. "It's a different energy. You know, it's really just about doing it to do it, as opposed to trying to make a statement or make a mark."

Corset: Ronald van der Kemp, Bracelets: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience), Earrings: Lana Jewelry (The Residency Experience), Engagement ring: Gwen's own

Even the Saweetie remix of her latest single "Slow Clap" happened on a whim, after the younger artist happened to post a video of herself vibing to Stefani's 2004 single "Luxurious" on Instagram Stories. They knocked out the song and accompanying video in a day. Neither seems bothered by the Old Navy meme. "It was just this little video that we did on the fly," Stefani says. "It just happened. It just feels good to put new stuff out there."

Stefani completed a two-year Vegas greatest hits residency in 2019, which gave her a sense of perspective on her own legacy. "You make a new record because that's what is exciting for you," she says. "But people really just want to hear the records after a while that were the backdrop to their lives, a 'Don't Speak' or a 'Just a Girl' or a 'Hollaback Girl,' or whatever it was for them. So, you know, it's hard — you can only be new when you're new, and that's just the truth, and I know that."

She says she was pleasantly surprised that "Let Me Reintroduce Myself" charted at all, and that she only found out it did when Shelton walked into the kitchen to show her the iTunes numbers. "I burst out crying with joy, because it was like, 'Whoa, really?' I think I'd set myself up to be quite realistic about where I'm at."

Stefani, endlessly polite and self-deprecating in conversation, which on her end mostly consists of endearingly earnest run-on monologues, says she still has "tons" of insecurities. I get the impression she has been trying harder to give herself credit lately. She recalls recently hearing Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" on the car radio and finding herself in awe of the song's timeless catchiness.

Suit: Balmain, Earrings and choker: Lana Jewelry (The Residency Experience), Necklaces: Gwen's own

"But then I started thinking," she says, in a goofy Cher Horowitz tone. "Like, I have a few of those myself." She talks of this realization as a genuine breakthrough, which is a little worrying for a woman who has sold 40 million records. No shit, she has a "few of those." More of them than Lauper, actually.

More new music is coming along slowly, but I've caught Stefani on a day when the horizon looks closer than usual, and while things haven't quite fallen into place yet, she's feeling more confident that they eventually will. "I'm at the end," she declares. "The idea of going for a session and not being with my kids or the idea of taking time away from Blake doesn't fuel my fire like it did two months ago. I need to decide, wrap it up, put out the project."

Crucially, there's no rush. The album will simply arrive sometime this year, tracklist and title currently undecided.

"You're talking to me at a weird transitional time," Stefani says repeatedly throughout our conversation, which sometimes takes on the cathartic tone of therapy. But having time in the first place is a new feeling.

Bracelet and choker: Dana Kemp (The Residency Experience), Obsession necklace: Lidow Archive, Gold necklaces: Gwen's own, Clothing: Blumarine, Boots: Philipp Plein

NO DOUBT WERE A BAND for nine years before getting on the radio. Enough time for Stefani and bassist Tony Kanal to be in a long term relationship then break up and write a whole hit album about it. All of the Fleetwood Mac drama was resolved pre-fame, which enabled the group to capitalize on the surprise success of Tragic Kingdom singles like "Don't Speak" and "Just a Girl" with a world tour that lasted almost three years. Three more albums followed, and Stefani has reinforced her household name status in every decade since, launching a solo career and multiple fashion lines while never totally cutting the cord from her original musical project.

In other words, record executives have been dictating Stefani's schedule since the mid-'90s. She even sings about it on Love. Angel. Music. Baby opener "What You Waiting For," in which her biological clock ticks like a metronome. Interscope Co-Founder Jimmy Iovine, who discovered No Doubt and continued to work with Stefani on her solo output, was quick to point out that his client's prime childbearing years were also her last opportunity to cross over into pop stardom. And after her first record went number one, it only made sense to lay down some new tracks straight away.

"Whether or not I get the response that I would hope to get — because that's what I'm used to, because I'm so damn spoiled and I've tasted the blood of success — I still got to do the creative journey."

"I had the baby, the first one, and it was only like eight weeks after I had him, that Jimmy was calling me saying, you've got to go in the studio with Akon," Stefani recalls cheerfully. "Like, Akon wants to work with you. Like, no, I'm nursing my baby. But then I couldn't say no." And then? "We wrote 'Sweet Escape.'" And then? "I went on a world tour." And then? "In the month that I got home from that one hundred and whatever shows it was, I got pregnant with Zuma. So then that was that." (It wasn't. Admittedly: "Then it was like, No Doubt, let's do another record.")

Things are different now: "You can just drop singles and you don't have to put a record out. But if you want to put a record out, you can work on it slowly." But even as she talks of slowing down, speculating that she might not even go on tour after the pandemic ends, in the next sentence Stefani's back to admitting that there's more work to be done, that she wants to write a couple more songs for her new record, "just to make sure."

Earrings: Lana Jewelry (The Residency Experience) Choker: Chanel, Necklaces: Gwen's own, Gloves: Laurel DeWitt, Top: Local Boogeyman

"The creation is the thing that fuels me so much," she says. "Whether or not I get the response that I would hope to get — because that's what I'm used to, because I'm so damn spoiled and I've tasted the blood of success — I still got to do the creative journey."

Like any good lyricist, she reaches out to her listener, hoping to convey a more universal point. "It's just probably the same for you as a writer," she guesses. "You know, it's the anticipation. You're in it now. You're getting the information. This is what you live for. You're doing the interview and then you're going to write it. And that's going to be the challenge."

GWEN STEFANI WAS PUTTING out diary entry pop when Olivia Rodrigo was still in diapers and Taylor Swift was but a humble Pennsylvania Christmas tree heiress. She struggles to pen lyrics that aren't confessional ("I'm not a creative writer when it comes to like, 'Oh, let's just write a sad song about something that didn't happen to me'"), and occasionally re-traumatizes herself when performing old hits. Return of Saturn deep cut "Dark Blue" triggers "crazy, just horrible" recollections of a past relationship. Even "Don't Speak" felt emotional onstage in Vegas.

But after releasing an excruciating divorce album, This Is What the Truth Feels Like, in 2016, Stefani is back to writing happy songs only. She's getting married, after all. She won't be releasing any of her trademark breakup anthems anytime soon. "Girl," she laughs, "I think I've had my fair share."

Bow: Laurel DeWitt, Earrings: Lana Jewelry (The Residency Experience), Bracelets: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience), Shirt: Vintage Archive, Dress: Erdem, Tights: Capezio, Shoes: Marc Jacobs (Lidow Archive)

Stefani and Shelton's relationship has puzzled some fans. Shelton, a country radio phenomenon, never endorsed Trump in the 2016 election, but he did come close. Earlier this year, he was criticized for releasing a song called "Minimum Wage," about finding small joys during periods of economic struggle, at the peak of a recession.

Is Gwen Stefani a Republican now? She's not offended by the question, or really anything I have to ask. She has been famous for so long that she expects and even embraces scrutiny. "If you're going to be a star, that's what you get," she says. "You know what I mean? You get what you get, and you don't get upset, at all."

As for her politics, it's read-between-the-lines."I can see how people would be curious, but I think it's pretty obvious who I am," she says. "I've been around forever. I started my band because we were really influenced by ska, which was a movement that happened in the late '70s, and it was really all about people coming together. The first song I ever wrote was a song called 'Different People,' which was on the Obama playlist, you know, a song about everyone being different and being the same and loving each other. The very first song I wrote."

One of very few multi-racial bands playing stadium shows for hoardes of American teenangers in the 1990s, No Doubt did very literally embody those second-wave ska principles of inclusion. Stefani even wore bindis and saris on stage as a symbol of cultural exchange with Kanal, who is Indian-American, briefly kickstarting a white girl facial jewelry trend that it's safe to say would not fly in 2021.

Rings (left): Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience)

"The Specials and The Selecter and all those groups, and what they were doing in the late '70s was this whole kind of anti-racism, we come together, Black and white ska movement," Stefani elaborates on the band's founding principles. "And we were sort of echoing that in the '80s when we did it, we were like the third generation of ska."

Ska she's always happy to discuss, but Stefani was brought up to keep her electoral preferences personal, and that rule has held for her entire career. "The whole point of voting, is you have this personal space to feel how you feel," she explains. "I use my platform to share my life story and to engage with people and to exchange whatever gift I was giving. I'm not a political science major. I am not that person. Everyone knows that. So why would I even talk about it?"

"I don't need to go on Instagram and say 'girl power.' I just need to live and be a good person and leave a trail of greatness behind me."

It never has been. Looking back, it's weird that "Just a Girl" is so integral to Gwen Stefani's brand. She's never written anything else with remotely the same message, and or publicly identified as a feminist. To Stefani, it's just a song about growing up, and "all of a sudden you realize your gender." It wasn't meant as a protest or anthem: in fact, being her breakout hit, she didn't think anyone other than her bandmates and some local fans would ever hear it.

"I don't even know if I knew what feminist at that time was," she says. "I was very sheltered growing up with my family. I wasn't political. I wasn't angry." Even now: "I don't need to go on Instagram and say 'girl power.' I just need to live and be a good person and leave a trail of greatness behind me. Stop talking about it and stop trying to bully everybody about it. Just do it. And that's how I feel like I've lived my life."

WHEN STEFANI WAS GROWING up in 1970s Anaheim, her father got a job doing market research for Yamaha, which required frequent business trips to Japan. He'd bring home Sanrio toys, as well as anecdotes about the Tokyo district of Harajuku, where teenagers were dressing like Elvis, and "taking all these American things and making them Japanese." His daughter was entranced. "He would be telling me these things my whole life, like my whole life. I had a deep fascination."

So when No Doubt played Japan in 1996, Stefani describes, "It was a pretty big deal for me." The tour was the first time she'd traveled outside of the United states, save one trip to Italy when she was 21. "I just was inspired," she recalls. "It's a world away. And at that time it was even further, because you couldn't see it on the internet. I don't think a younger generation can even imagine what it's like to not have access to the world."

From then on, Japan became one of Stefani's biggest career motivations, especially when it came to her solo albums. If she could just write more hits, she'd get to tour there again, see the street style, visit the vintage stores. "If you read the actual lyrics [in 'What You Waiting For?'], it talks about being a fan of Japan and how if I do good, I get to go back there," she says.

In the meantime, she decided she'd bring Japan to Los Angeles. "I never got to have dancers with No Doubt. I never got to change costumes. I never got to do all of those fun girl things that I always love to do. So I had this idea that I would have a posse of girls — because I never got to hang with girls — and they would be Japanese, Harajuku girls, because those are the girls that I love. Those are my homies. That's where I would be if I had my dream come true, I could go live there and I could go hang out in Harajuku."

Earrings, bracelets and rings: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience, Gold Necklaces: Gwen's own, Top: Local Boogeyman, Pants: GCDS, Shoes: Valentino

Dancers Maya Chino ("Love"), Jennifer Kita ("Angel"), Rino Nakasone ("Music") and Mayuko Kitayama ("Baby") would go on to accompany Stefani for her next two album cycles, dancing on stage and in her videos while also making silent, but very well-dressed, awards show appearances. Kita, who'd grown up in LA, visited Japan for the first time on Stefani's tour.

In a 2006 interview with Blender magazine, comedian Margaret Cho compared the Harajuku Girls to a minstrel show. The backlash against them has been consistent ever since. Stefani, to this day, disagrees.

"If we didn't buy and sell and trade our cultures in, we wouldn't have so much beauty, you know?" she says. "We learn from each other, we share from each other, we grow from each other. And all these rules are just dividing us more and more."

Hello Kitty merch was harder to come by when she was a kid, but in other ways, life felt easier. "I think that we grew up in a time where we didn't have so many rules. We didn't have to follow a narrative that was being edited for us through social media, we just had so much more freedom."

Earrings, bracelets and rings: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience), Necklaces: Gwen's own, Dress: GCDS, Shirt: Faith Connexion, Tights: Capezio, Shoes: Marc Jacobs (Lidow Archive)

Stefani's penchant for rule breaking has always been apparent in her music as much as her aesthetic. Genre-wise, she's a randomista. The chart success of No Doubt's bouncing ska beats felt like an accidental post-grunge-era glitch in the matrix, and it's insane to this day that one of Stefani's biggest solo hits samples "If I Were a Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof, by way of '90s British dancehall duo Louchie Lou & Michie One. That another, "Wind It Up," features earnest Sound of Music yodeling.

"I just make up whatever comes out," Stefani says of her songwriting process. "I don't even know where it comes from. I feel like it just comes from the source. It's not trained, and it's not perfect, it's just real."

She looks back on the Love.Angel.Music.Baby era as unusually experimental and artistically fulfilling. "It was just a really incredible time, and a very creative time. I feel like it was just a really creative project."

STEFANI VIEWS HER CAREER success as mostly a matter of luck. Pop stardom is God-given and mysterious."Because the fact I made it, it doesn't make any sense," she reflects. "It's written in the stars. You know what I'm saying? I'm not the most talented. I'm not the most pretty. I'm not the most smart. None of those things. But I made it, right?"

Clothing: Blumarine, Bracelet and choker: Dena Kemp (The Residency Experience), Obsession necklace: Lidow Archive, Gold necklaces: Gwen's Own

Every week on The Voice she watches objectively gifted musicians fail at becoming artists. "I watched people that went through that without seeing their faces, without knowing what color they are. And I chose the ones that pulled my heartstrings. And even though they were so talented, none of them have had careers. It's made me look at myself and even feel even more amazed by the fact that anyone cared or cares."

If all of this is actually so out of her control, then Stefani feels safe stepping back a little bit. "I don't have that fuel in me like I used to, because I already won," she says. And now she has other victories in mind. "Being a good human, a good mother. I want to have a good marriage. I want to be a good wife. I want to win at finding peace. I want to win at finding other hobbies that I'm good at."

But at the same time? "If I'm inspired, I'm going to try to do something with that inspiration." That's the most fun part: whatever else comes after has always been an amazing bonus.

The "Let Me Reintroduce Myself" era, whatever form it may eventually take, isn't a desperate grab at former glory. It's Stefani refusing to evolve for the sake of it. She's poking fun at the whole idea of having to compete with past personas alongside current ones, while acknowledging the fact she's grateful to still be in the game at all.

"You don't know what you're doing," she says, somehow both confident and resigned. "You're a cartoon of yourself at this point, and you don't know what people are thinking. They're wondering, what? Why are you still here? And I'm like, I don't know. They said I could be here. So I'm here!"

Photography: Jamie Nelson Styling: Nicola Formichetti Hair: Sami Knight Makeup: Michael Anthony Nails: Carolyn Orellana Wardrobe director: Marta Del Rio Production: Katrina Kudlick Digitatech: Sean MacGillivray Logo design: Luca Devinu Story: Kat Gillespie

FROM YOUR SITE ARTICLES

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crazedtmnt · 4 years

Text

Misshapen

Turtles X Autistic F!Reader

Hello! So, this is something I’ve been working on for a while. Fun fact about me, but I’m actually autistic. I didn’t find out until I was in college, though, since my mom was terrified to find out the truth (she’s much better about it now). As such, this caused me a lot of trouble growing up. I was constantly missing signals and making people mad without realizing. And I had no way of knowing what was wrong with me.

So I wrote a little self-indulgent thing about that! It was kind of an experiment, so it came out more abstract than I was expecting. I hope that’s okay. I focused mostly on the hyper-fixations, since that caused me the most problems, but I tried to get more in there. It’s a little hard to describe everything. Hope you enjoy!

[y/n] = Your name

~~~~~~~

“No.”

We tuck our hearts behind logic and manners, but every now and again someone’s pokes out, showing the world their true feelings. At the sight of one, we smile and laugh. Its appearance indicates further understanding between us—a bond of trust. Some wear their hearts more readily, while others keep it under lock and key, even as their logic falls apart. But whether a heart is social or shy, one thing remains constant: the more we view each other’s hearts, the more we learn.

“No, no one understands what you’re saying.”

But sometimes a heart is misshapen. Not due to cruelty or malice, but due to life. Not every heart can be made the same. Everyone has cuts or lumps along their veins, but some are born with entirely new designs, foreign and strange to the average person. The sight of these hearts confuses and even angers others.

“I’m sorry. I was just—”

“You were just being annoying! Can’t you read the room?!”

Even if their appearance marks a display of love, trust, or wonder, the twisted form screams a meaning unheard by its owner. The misshapen heart will parade this misinformation happily, unaware of the contempt boiling beneath the surface. That is, until the earth cracks open and reveals what all other hearts could already see.

“I-I… I didn’t mean to…”

“Of course you didn’t. You never think of anyone but yourself. You’re always babbling on about whatever you’re into and never stop to consider others. Do you know how exhausting that is?”

“I’m sorry, I… I’m sorry…”

A misshapen heart can stare itself in the mirror all day long, but even if it realizes that its design is unusual, it cannot change what it already is. The bumps and cuts are familiar—comforting—and the heart itself works just fine. Whatever could be wrong with it? The misunderstanding it keeps exclaiming is just that: a misunderstanding. Its true feelings should be easily heard. It can hope that other hearts hear the truth behind the oddities, but if not…

“God! All you do is apologize! You never actually try to be better! Do you seriously think we enjoy listening to you talk about the same two things every single day? You never even let us get a word in! How would you feel if we ignored your interests to only talk about our own?”

“…”

“What? You won’t even look at us anymore? …Oh God, now you’re crying. You’re such a pain. Learn some social skills and maybe realize that you aren’t the center of the universe. Other people want to talk too.”

“…”

“Stop crying! You just… Ugh! Nevermind. Come on. Let’s leave her to feel sorry for herself.”

A misshapen heart can break just the same as any other.

~~~~~~~

[Y/n] could barely see her friends leaving through the torrent of tears cascading down her face. She couldn’t even stand straight. Under the weight of her shame, guilt, and confusion she was practically doubled over. And once the slam of a door pierced her ear, echoing its hatred through her very soul, she completely broke down.

Sobs wrenched through her body, her chest heaving as she barely managed to hold back full-blown wails. As crying overtook all other functions, [y/n] collapsed on the ground, her hands thrown out to prop her up. All she could do was watch as teardrops fell to the ground at a growing rate and feel a burning sorrow choke her lungs.

“What is wrong with me? What is wrong with me?!” she screamed into the void, knowing no one was listening—nor did anyone care to listen. After all, she was an annoying little child whose passions drove away the few people who could stand her. She should know exactly what’s wrong with her… right?

“What is…? What is…?” [y/n] hiccupped, her squinting eyes forcing out more tears so that maybe reality would slip away. If even the floor was blurred, she could imagine she was home in her bed. She could escape to a familiar place where routine was king.

Escape… Escape… Pretend the world worked in a way that made sense. Pretend that every sentence that fell from a stranger’s lips had an obvious tone—no one hid their feelings behind passive aggressive words that slipped her notice. Pretend that background noises didn’t drown out everything else until all that’s left is a sense of anxiety and the realization that she couldn’t breathe. Pretend that she could laugh at jokes thrown at her instead of wondering later if it was even a joke.

Pretend the world’s normal… Not her normal that was weird, boring, or disruptive. No matter how she bent it, it never matched everyone else’s that they fought tooth and nail for. It had to be the normal that suffocated her with expectations she could never hope to meet, since the starting line was nowhere in sight. Her normal was wrong.

…But in the end, it was all she knew.

“What did I… do wrong?”

“Nothing.”

[Y/n] gasped, feeling a warm hand sliding up and down her back. She was still doubled over, but another shadow combined with hers. How long had it been there?

The soothing voice spoke again. “You’re absolutely perfect. It’s not your fault.”

[Y/n] tightened her hands into fists. It was so comforting to hear that… Too comforting.

“No. I… I made them mad…” She wiped her eyes and tried to stand up—tried to escape the calming presence before she forgot her place. She was a broken human who deserved to be hurt. Obviously, she wasn’t working hard enough to be a better person. “I act like a child… and… and ignore… ignore everyone around me.”

The tears had slowed, but it was impossible to catch her breath. Hell, the lump in her throat made her more likely to choke than speak. So she needed to leave before her selfishness made her accept his comfort.

Her love. Her turtle hero. [Y/n] couldn’t let him indulge her any further.

But those strong hands were persistent. In one smooth motion, he had wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. Once seated on the floor with him, all desire to flee left. [Y/n] merely gave in, though her gaze was fixated on the floor.

He hummed in somber amusement, the rumble of his chest almost tickling her. It was hard to believe this was the same [y/n] he had fallen in love with. She was so passionate about whatever caught her interest. It was his favorite thing to watch the sparkles in her eyes as she talked for hours over her obsessions. Now, she lay against him like a hollow doll, ready to obey whatever order her owner gave her.

Gently, he wiped her tear tracks with his thumb. “Love, I saw everything. You were just excited to talk to them. They could have stopped you and explained what was wrong, but they chose to get mad at you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I… But I should have tried to… be better. Be nicer and more considerate. I’m such a terrible—”

“No,” he cut in firmly, his grip around her tightening. “Don’t you dare say anything bad about yourself. You’re wonderful. My angel and my love. If they don’t appreciate you, then they don’t deserve you.”

He used his finger to gently push up [y/n]’s chin, guiding her gaze towards his. For a few seconds, [y/n] tensed and closed her eyes. That was the hardest thing in the world: looking someone in the eye. She didn’t deserve his comfort, much less his love. How could she ever meet his eyes?

“[Y/n], look at me.”

His breath caressed her cheek while his hands rubbed her face softly. It was so warm… So familiar and safe. [Y/n] gave in and opened her eyes.

Her gaze was met with calm kindness. It didn’t matter how excited or anxious she got. He always looked at her like she was a princess. His princess. Despite the circumstances, his smile was beautiful, lighting a fire within her heart. Suddenly, [y/n] felt a weight lift from her chest. He was here and he still loved her. He had seen her at her worst and yet he never showed any hint of regret. Instead, he made allowances. It didn’t matter what he was doing—if [y/n] called him in a fit of anxiety, he was there in minutes. He even altered his routine when she was around to better match hers. The stubborn, no-nonsense leader changed his routine out of love for her… And here Leo was right now: smiling that handsome smile, whispering sweet words into her ear, and gently rubbing circles into her back. In spite of all her supposed flaws, he wasn’t going anywhere. On the contrary, he loved every minute he spent with her. She was a blessing and he would do anything to listen to her pour her heart out. In those moments, he could forget all the bad in the world and stare into his love’s eyes.

The first thing she noticed was the solemn expression of understanding. He got it. He also had issues with driving people away. However, that was because of his temper, not unrestrained passion. If anything, his issue was much worse because, while he always regretted it, he purposefully drove people away. [Y/n] was only doing it on accident. She meant no harm. And yet she still chose him, the hothead, to love. With all the words in the world, he couldn’t explain how much that meant to him. So screw those other people. If they couldn’t see how wonderful [y/n] was, then they didn’t deserve to know her. He would keep her all to himself anyway, if he could. She deserved the world, but if she couldn’t have that then she would get all the love he could give. As Raph pulled her closer, inhaling her sweet scent, a wave of relief fell over [y/n]. No matter what, she had her strong protector right beside her. He didn’t care if she rambled on about nonsense; having her care enough to stay by his side meant the world to him. To both of them.

It wasn’t hard to tell what he was thinking with that big grin. Every day, if he didn’t get to hear her lovely voice rant on about whatever, it was a failed day. He loved it, every minute of it. She had the most beautiful mind and could see things from angles others never even knew existed. To society, the world was a 2D image on a piece of paper—simple, clean, and always the same no matter the view point. But to her, the world was 3D and bursting with possibilities. Each day, she viewed it at a new angle, discovering a new story or truth. And each day, she came to him with a surplus of ideas bursting out of her very being. [Y/n] was his muse, his light, and most importantly the love of his life. She needed moderation sometimes, but so did he. That didn’t make her a bad person. [Y/n] was overflowing with passion and potential, if only the right people encouraged her. So that’s exactly what Donnie would do. He gently kissed her forehead, reminding her that her “strange” mind was his favorite thing.

Love. Just endless love. It was all she could see on his face—that warm smile and those bright eyes holding all the love in the world. It was like he was radiating sunshine. Suddenly, the weight on her heart seemed to dissolve. He looked at [y/n] like she was the most beautiful thing in the world. A goddess that owned his heart and all he could give her. If there was ever a moment when he got annoyed at her rambling, he couldn’t remember it. He could only remember all the late nights of them snuggled together, enthusiastically whispering to each other about everything under the sun until Splinter showed up to shush them. Mikey leaned his forehead against hers, brushing some hair behind her ears. Watching [y/n] get excited and analyze her newest obsession was always the highlight of his day. He got to see her gorgeous smile and how her eyes sparkled with delight. In those moments, nothing stood in her way. She shined like a star and graced him, a mutant turtle, with her light. What more could he want?

It was almost too much. Tears filled [y/n]’s eyes again, but for a completely different reason than before. Her heart clenched with love… and the hope that maybe she wasn’t a broken person after all. If her turtle could look at her in such a way, without a hint of regret, then…

“I’ll always be here for you,” he whispered in her ear. Slowly, his lips brushed passed her cheek, settling on her lips. It was a short kiss, but one filled with promises she knew he’d keep. “…I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Then maybe her misshapen heart had found its match.

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aspenflower17 · 3 years

Text

Finding You (Part 16 of ??)

Hello metal husband and readers! Welcome to another update to Finding You! What’s on tap today you ask? Well, just keep reading and find out! New here and don’t want to spoil the story? Just hop on over to Part One through this link, and you can read through!

Word Count: 3,558

Tags for the Tagged: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @solomonismyman (If you want to be added to my tags list, just say the word down below in a comment or a message, and I will get you added to the list :D)

Trigger warnings: One character’s a total douche, talk of war and death

Mc twirled the pencil she had been sketching with debating if she should ask the question she had been thinking about. Her and Michael were the only ones in the room and no one would be coming in for quite awhile. This was probably the best time she’d get to ask, "Hey, Michael. Can I ask you a question?"

He looked up from his book, "Yes? What is it?"

"Well, I was reading a book the other day, and I came across something odd. It… it was about the Avatar's Fall," Mc couldn't look at Michael, so she just continued, "Eyewitness accounts say there were eight angels that fell that day. So, I was wondering: Was there an eighth angel who fell that day?"

The silence was heavy, threatening to crush Mc. After a long moment, Michael's voice sounded lowly, "And just why were you reading about something like that?"

"Meeting them in person got me curious."

"And you would believe an eyewitness account over the teachings of the Celestial Realm?"

"Well, not necessarily. I just was curious since I'd never heard of there being another angel who Fell."

There was silence, and Mc still couldn't make herself look over, "I suppose just because some of them have paid attention to you makes you think you know all about demons.”

“No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it then? If you haven’t forgotten, demons will lie about anything. Sinning comes naturally to them. In fact, the seven you keep coming into contact with are the embodiment of some of the most damaging sins. The lower demons are even worse.”

“I just want the most information possible. If there was another angel who fell that day, shouldn’t we tell everyone?”

“You forget your place, Mc. You may have luxuries other angels do not possess, but that does not raise your station. Questioning Father’s teachings. To believe something a demon wrote about another demon-"

"I'm not really questioning. I was just confused because-"

"And now you interrupt me? Just who do you think you are? I am an archangel, and the only reason you've been allowed down here. You are a simple angel that we have allowed to express her talents throughout the three realms. Do not make me wonder if it was the right decision."

Mc flinched at the door closing. Though he hadn't slammed it, nor had he raised his voice, she had felt the waves of displeasure rolling off of him. The threat about sending her back to the Celestial Realm had her really nervous. Before she was aware of what she was doing, the message had been sent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I could’ve come to the castle.”

“Hmmm… I don’t think that would be for the best right now.”

Satan cocked his head, “Did something happen?”

“Kind of. Anyway, thanks for meeting me here.”

“Of course. Is there anything in particular you’d like to do?”

“Well, I kinda thought, since I have an invitation and all, that you could show me around the House of Lamentation.”

“I… I mean, if you want to. I’m warning you now, it’s almost never calm there. My brothers are… a handful.”

“Sounds great!”

Satan looked over in shock, “Seriously?”

Mc nodded her head, “I grew up with calm. I want some excitement.”

“Well, be careful what you wish for.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“GIVE ME BACK MY LIMITED DIAMOND EDITION SUCREY FRENZY SIGNED POSTER MAMMON! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT’S WORTH!”

“Course I know what it’s worth! Why’d ya think I took it in the firs’ place?”

“SO YOU DID TAKE IT!!!”

“Oh. Whoops! Forget I said anythin’.”

“MAMMON!”

A blur of demon shot past Mc and Satan. All Mc could make out was white and brown, before Leviathan went past, considerably slower than Mammon, but still fast for a demon. At least, Mc thought it might be Leviathan. The shy purple haired demon was now in all black, with black horns and a snake-like tail. He also looked like he was going to rip apart his brother.

Satan sighed, continuing forward, hands in his pockets, “Welcome to the House of Lamentation.”

“Shouldn’t we do something?”

“Hmm? Oh, about them? I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Ah. I see…”

“We should probably get you out of the immediate vicinity though. There’s no telling what those two idiots might do.”

“Where should we go then?”

“Hmmm… Well, since we’re close, I guess we could start with the kitchen.”

“Sounds good to me!”

As they walked, Mc looked around her. Though the decorations were both a tad macabre and extremely grand, she found herself… comfortable. The candle light cast everything in an almost cheery glow, and the atmosphere, while a little daunting, made her feel like she was…

“... Home.”

Satan stopped dead in his tracks, and turned slowly towards her, “W-wait… Hwat did you say?”

“Oh, did I say that outloud? Sorry. That probably sounded really weird,” when Satan didn’t answer, Mc continued a bit awkwardly, “It’s just… This is the most comfortable I’ve been in a brand new place in a long time. I thought maybe my attraction to the Devildom was just because of how novel it all is to an angel. But… Being in this house, it just makes everything feel more like… Home,” Mc looked up to see Satan looking at her with a very tender but sad look, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. Let’s keep going.”

When they got to the kitchen, Belphegor and Beelzebub were there, former hiding his head in his arms and the latter consuming a concerning amount of food in a very short time. He stopped when Satan and Mc entered the room.

“Burfy! Wrok hus herr!”

“Hmmm? What? Who is it?”

“Ots Emm Fee!”

Belphegor lifted his head tiredly, but smiled when he saw Satan and Mc, “So, you took us up on the invitation?”

“Yup. Satan’s showing me around.”

“Do you guys want some food?” Beelzebub asked, mouth cleared for a second.

“Well, I-"

"Here. You can have this," Beel said, grabbing her hand and dropping what looked to be a kind of sweet bun in it. He gazed at it for a second then looked at her and grinned before walking back to his food pile.

"You should eat it," Satan said quietly, " He doesn't share his food with just anybody."

"Oh. Okay," Mc said, looking at the sweet. She took a small bite and then her eyes grew wide before eating the whole thing.

"Thought you'd like it," the Avatar of Gluttony smiled.

"It was absolutely delicious! What was it?"

"An orange roll. It's a human word treat."

"I'm going to have to have Luke make it later."

"Did he come with you?" Beel's eyes were shining.

"Ummm… Not this time."

"Oh."

"I'll make sure to let him know next time I'm coming."

"Please do," Beel said, smiling again.

"Well, I'm going to continue our tour if that's alright."

"Yes, please do," Mc smiled, turning back to him.

"Have fun you two," Belphie said, dropping his head back onto his arm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mc and Satan progressed through the house. The feeling of familiarity just kept growing as they went. There was a room off the kitchen that Mc felt very drawn to. Satan said it was just an unused bedroom, nothing of note, but it did nothing to curb her interest. In fact, it made her want to see what was inside even more.

When they got to the library, they had to stop because Mc was so excited. No matter how many library’s she saw, personal or otherwise, they never failed to excite her. The fact it was the personal library of the Fallen was not lost on her.

“Do you want to stop here for a bit?” Satan chuckled.

Mc turned to him with wide eyes, “Can we?”

“Of course. Spending time with books is always time well spent. Anything in particular you’d like to look for?”

“Ummm… Do you just want to give me a tour?”

“Of the library?... Hmm… I suppose I could do that. Lucifer does like it organized a certain way. And, of course, if there’s a book that catches your eye, all you have to do is say the word and we can stop to read.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re really after,” Mc teased.

“Well, can you blame me? Reading with someone in companionable silence is one of life’s greatest joys.”

“Well, I suppose it is nice to just sit and read with Sim, though he’s probably the only one I’ve read with.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Most other angels don’t just sit and read very often. Unless it’s scripture.”

“Sounds about right,” Satan said, rolling his eyes and starting to climb the stairs that lead to the second story of the library.

The “certain way” Lucifer liked the books to be organized was by genre, then alphabetically by author.If an author had multiple books, they were to be then sorted alphabetically by title, any series sorted by the first book’s title then in order. Many of the books were old though in impeccable condition. Mc was impressed by the breadth of selection available, and she could sense some spacial magic at work which housed more books than what was visible to the naked eye. While browsing, Mc found a book that looked interesting, and carried it until the tour was over. Satan happened to have a book in a hidden pocket in his jacket so they decided to sit and read awhile. Instead of the ground floor, Satan knew of a little nook on the second story which had a cushioned window seat and two plush reading chairs, so they went and sat there.

Though the story was interesting, she just couldn’t get into the book she’d grabbed. Her mind kept wandering back to her earlier conversation with Michael. She didn’t know how she could have brought up the subject in a way where he wouldn’t have gotten so upset with her. He’d reprimanded her before, but never had he been so dismissive and final about it.

“Are you alright?” Satan’s voice cut through her thoughts. She looked over to see him watching her.

She suddenly felt embarrassed, and averted her eyes, “It’s… Well, I got reprimanded by Michael.”

“Why?”

So Mc told him about her search for information, how Barbatos had told her to ask Michael and his rebuke. When she finished, Satan’s face was impossible to read. He was silent for long enough, she was concerned she had offended him somehow. Finally he spoke, “Lilith. Her name was Lilith. If you want some answers about what happened, I think Lucifer would be the best person to give them to you. I would suggest Beel, but he has enough trauma about what happened as it is. I don’t even know if he remembers, or if he’s blocked it…”

“Blocked what?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Satan knocked on a bookshelf on the ground floor. A deep voice sounded from behind it, “Enter.” At the word, the bookshelf sung open to reveal a secret room. Despite wondering what was going on, Mc was both delighted and intrigued.

“You guys actually have a secret room behind a bookcase?!”

Satan shrugged, “Yeah. The house has a lot more secrets too. It would’ve been my room had I not lost a bet with Lucifer. Now it’s his office,” and with that, he walked in.

The whole room was a lot cozier than Mc would’ve expected. Austere and imposing yes, but there was a level of warmth and comfort to the room Mc would never have expected.

“Satan, what is it?” Lucifer sat at his desk, quill scratching across some paperwork. He hadn’t looked up.

“Mc has a question for you.”

This got him to look up, “Ah Mc. How can I help you?”

“Oh, if I’m interrupting something I can come back later.”

“I could use a break anyway. Please continue,” Lucifer sat there expectantly.

“Okay. Umm…” the memory of Michael flashed through Mc’s mind, and she winced a bit, but continued on with her story. Lucifer’s eyes darkened the further into the story she got. When she got to Michael’s chastisement, Lucifer got up from his chair abruptly, and went over to his window, back to Satan and Mc. Mc faltered in her story, watching as his clothes changed, horns pushing up and out from his head.

“I told her you’d be the one to ask,” Satan intervened, coming to stand behind Mc.

“Why? You know everything. You were there,” Lucifer asked, back still turned.

“You know the whole story,” Satan shrugged, eyes on the black clad figure.

Lucifer was silent and unmoving for quite awhile. Mc’s tension was on high alert for quite awhile, not seeing the horns retreating, until he finally spoke, “Before I begin, I feel I must warn you. You are going to hear things you probably won’t like or agree with. You are not to interrupt me. There will be a chance for me to answer your questions at the end, but only at the end. I will not explain my actions. The only person I answer to is Lord Diavolo. Whether you believe them correct or not, I am not embellishing the truth nor am I trying to hide from it. Knowing all of that, do you want me to continue?”

“... Yes. I would like to know the truth,” Mc answered confidently, though the fact he was still angry put her on edge. She knew he wasn’t angry at her at least.

The eldest, having calmed down enough to revert out of his demon form, came over and sat behind his desk. Satan came and sat next to her, earning a look from Lucifer, “You’re going to stay?”

“She is my guest.”

Lucifer raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, turning his attention back to Mc, “Have you heard about the Great Celestial War?” Mc nodded, and he continued, “No doubt you’ve heard their version of what happened. Probably talks about me and my brothers rampaging around the Celestial Realm until they finally cast us out?” Lucifer looked to her for confirmation.

“More or less,” Mc conceded.

“I am sure they make me out to be a villain in every way?”

“They say before you became angry, you were the model angel.”

“That is… interesting to know. Thank you for that. Now, where to begin?... Do you know anything about our sister?” Mc shook her head no, and Lucifer sighed angrily, “To think they just… Lilith came into my little makeshift family with Beel and Belphie. They were almost triplets in a sense of the word. Beel was the sun, Belphie the moon and Lilith the stars, though I would argue she shined the most brightly out of them. She was... angelic. They should really point to her as the model angel. She was everything an angel should and could be. Though they were all very close, once Beel made himself my bodyguard, Belphie and Lilith spent a lot of time together. Belphie had a habit of going off the the human realm whenever he could, which was not seen as a good thing, though he knew how to keep himself unattached to the humans he happened to meet, so no one could really do much more than grumble. That is, until Lilith started going down him.

Her heart was so pure and full of love, she ended up falling in love with one of the humans she met. Belphie tried to talk her out of it, but it was no use. When the rumors started, I asked both of them what was going on. From what they both said, it was love at first sight. Though I was furious, I went down myself to meet the man in question, and found myself unable to criticize her. He was everything I could have wanted for my sister.

Unfortunately, he was mortal and he came down with a serious illness. Lilith was devastated. We all tried to tell her this was a good thing. He was a good enough person he would probably join us in the Celestial Realm. I even spoke with my father and got permission for her to lead him to the Celestial Realm when he passed. She wouldn’t listen however. He had told her all about his dreams for the future and she couldn’t let his life end. SO she concocted a plan. I wish she would’ve told me about it earlier, but I only found out about it after the deed had been done. She took a Tarel fruit and fed it to him,” Mc gasped despite herself. That fruit was precious. Michael himself wasn’t allowed any unless Father approved of it. Lucifer didn’t even acknowledge the outburst, “He recovered, obviously, but the damage was irreversible. As punishment for her sins, my father decided she would be put on trial, though we all knew the outcome, “ as did Mc. Either death or complete exile. They were essentially one-and-the-same.

“I had… many issues with the Celestial Realm and how it was run. How it probably still is. I was able to put those all aside however for the sake of my family and my position. This however,” and Mc could see the rage that still filled his eyes, “I could never forgive. Not if it meant the death of our dear baby sister. All my brothers felt the same way, especially Beel and Belphie. We all decided we were going to do something about it. Despite what anyone might say, I did try to go the “correct way” in the beginning. Supplications to my father. Speaking to others that might listen. I think we even tried a petition at one point. Very few would listen. I think there was a level of envy from most of the other angels. They saw in Lilith all their shortcomings, and so they had latched onto the one “bad” thing anyone could ever remember her doing.

“Tensions came to a head one day when I told my father and Michael I would do everything in my power to keep Lilith safe. Michael then looked me dead in the eyes and told me my sister was going to be punished, even if he had to do it himself. I left that meeting trembling with rage, and that’s when I knew I would wage war against anyone who tried to hurt my family, even if that meant fighting my father myself. I flew into the sky that day and sent my declaration of war over the entire Celestial Realm.

“Some came to our aid, but most sat on the opposing side. The war was long and bloody. Many that had flocked to our aid perished, low ranked angels who didn’t stand a chance against the likes of Michael and his bow. On what would come to be known as the last day of the war, we had so few left, my precious family had to be put near the front of the battle. Everything was going fine, and we were actually winning when I saw Michael emerge from the enemy forces. He had spotted Lilith, standing with Beel and Belphie, and I could see his intentions before anyone else. I tried my hardest to reach the three youngest, but a large crowd of angels came to attack me. Whether it was his plan all along to keep me tied up with so many, I don’t know. All I do know is that by the time I had fought off all my attackers it was too late. He had strung three arrows pointing them at my family. They all knew it was coming too, and I watched the panic set in to all three of them, with Beel in the middle. He chose to save Belphie. Lilith went down with an arrow to the wing, which was then followed by three more arrows shot by others, one to her other wing, one to the stomach, and then one to the chest. She looked over to me as she started falling and I…” Lucifer’s voice broke and he had to take a second to compose himself, “Well, let’s just say I will never forget it. After the shock had worn off, I flew after her as she fell. I tried to shoot down as fast as I could hoping to grab her, but it was no use. She crashed into the Devildom, wings singed body broken.

“I didn’t tell anyone about that day for a long time. Eventually I did tell Barbatos and Lord Diavolo who Lilith’s murderer was, which is why Barbatos knew who to send you to for answers. The fact Michael wouldn’t come clean about the whole thing, and that they’ve essentially erased her from history… It makes my blood boil. To see Diavolo acting so chummy with my sister’s murderer…” Mc could see, through the film of tears blocking her vision, Lucifer’s horns starting to emerge again.

Without thinking, she crossed over to him and hugged him, openly weeping. The thought was appalling. Whenever people spoke about the Great Celestial War, they always spoke of Michael’s brilliant tactical genius. They spoke of how he’d helped crush the rebellion, though they had never gone into detail. She now knew why. Lucifer was taken aback for a second by the behavior, but eventually hugged her back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, yeah. That happened.

Likes, shares and comments all vm appreciated.

If y’all got the reference in the beginning, I applaud you and offer the chance to quote her magnificence in the comments or you could send me asks and I will reply with another quote (please take me up on this!)

Part Seventeen

#obm #obey me!#obey me #obey me satan #obey me swd #obey me satan/mc #obey me lucifer #obey me michael #obey me lilith #obey me angst #obey me celestial war #obey me hol #obey me beel

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crowdvscritic · 3 years

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round up // JULY 21

‘Tis the season to beat the heat at the always-cold theatres and next to fans set at turbo speed. While my movie watching slowed a bit with the launch of the Summer Olympics on July 23rd, I’ve still got plenty of popcorn-ready and artsy recommendations for you. A few themes in the new-to-me pop culture I’m recommending this month:

Casts oozing with embarrassing levels of talent (sometimes overqualified for the movies they’re in)

Pop culture that is responding or reinterpreting past pop culture

Stories that get weEeEeird

Keep on-a-scrollin’ to see which is which!

July Crowd-Pleasers

1. Double Feature – ‘90s Rom-Coms feat. Lots of Lies: Mystery Date (1991) + The Pallbearer (1996)

In Mystery Date (Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 6/10), Ethan Hawke and Teri Polo get set up on a blind date that gets so bizarre and crime-y I’m not sure how this didn’t come out in the ‘80s. In The Pallbearer (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10), David Schwimmer and Gwyneth Paltrow try to combine The Graduate with Four Weddings and a Funeral in a story about lost twentysomethings. If you don’t like rom-coms in which circumstances depend on lots of lies and misunderstandings, these won’t be your jam, but if you’re like me and don’t mind these somewhat-cliché devices, you’ll be hooked by likeable casts and plenty of rom and com.

2. The Tomorrow War (2021)

I thought of no fewer movies than this list while watching: Alien, Aliens, Angel Has Fallen, Cloverfield, Interstellar, Kong: Skull Island, Prometheus, A Quiet Place: Part II, Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars: The Revenge of the Sith, The Silence of the Lambs, The Terminator, Terminator 2: Judgment Day, and World War Z. And you know what? I like all those movies! (Okay, maybe I just have a healthy respect/fear of The Silence of the Lambs.) The Tomorrow War may not be original, but it borrows some of the best tropes and beats from the sci-fi and action genres, so much so I wish I could’ve seen Chris Pratt and Co. fight those gross monsters on a big screen. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 6/10

3. Dream a Little Dream (1989)

My July pick for the Dumb Rom-Com I Nevertheless Enjoyed! I CANNOT explain the mechanics of this body switch comedy to you—nor can the back of the DVD case above—but, boy, what an ‘80s MOOD. I did not know I needed to see a choreographed dance routine starring Jason Robards and Corey Feldman, but I DID. All I know is some movies are made for me and that I’m now a card-carrying member of the Two Coreys fan club. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 6.5/10

4. Black Widow (2021)

The braids! The Pugh! Black Widow worked for me both as an exciting action adventure and as a respite from the Marvel adventures dependent on a long memory of the franchise. (Well, mostly—keep reading for a second MCU rec much more dependent on the gobs of previous releases.) Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

5. Liar Liar (1997)

Guys, Jim Carrey is hilarious. That’s it—that’s the review. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10

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6. Sob Rock by John Mayer (2021)

It’s very possible I’ve already listened to this record more than all other John Mayer records. It doesn’t surpass the capital-G Greatness of Continuum, but it’s a little bit of old school Mayer, a little bit ‘80s soft rock/pop, and I’ve had it on repeat most of the two weeks since it’s been out. Featuring the boppiest bop that ever bopped, at least one lyrical gem in every track, and an ad campaign focused on Walkmans, this record skirts the line between Crowd faves and Critic-worthy musicianship.

7. Double Feature – ‘00s Ben Affleck Political Thrillers: The Sum of All Fears (2002) + State of Play (2009)

In The Sum of All Fears (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), Ben Affleck is Jack Ryan caught up in yet another international incident. In State of Play (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10), he’s a hotshot Congressman caught up in a scandal. Both are full of plot twists and unexpected turns, and in both, Affleck is accompanied by actors you’re always happy to see, like Jason Bateman, James Cromwell, Russell Crowe, Jeff Daniels, Viola Davis, Morgan Freeman, Philip Baker Hall, David Harbour, Rachel McAdams, Helen Mirren, Liev Schreiber, and Robin Wright—yes, I swear all of those people are in just those two movies.

8. Loki (2021-)

Unlike Black Widow, you can’t go into Loki with no MCU experience. The show finds clever ways to nudge us with reminders (and did better at it than Falcon and the Winter Soldier), but be forewarned that at some point, you’re just going to have to let go and accept wherever this timeline-hopper is taking you. An ever-charismatic cast keeps us grounded (Owen Wilson, Jonathan Majors, and an alligator almost steal the show from Tom Hiddleston in some eps), but while Falcon lasted an episode or two too long, Loki could’ve used a few more to flesh out its complicated plot and develop its characters. Thankfully, the jokes matter almost as much as the sci-fi, so you can still have fun even if you have no idea what’s going on.

9. Double Feature – Bruce Willis: Die Hard With a Vengeance (1995) + The Whole Nine Yards (2000)

Before Bruce Willis began starring in many random direct-to-DVD movies I only ever hear about in my Redbox emails, he was a Movie Star smirking his way up the box office charts. In the third Die Hard (Crowd: 10/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), he teams up with Samuel L. Jackson to decipher the riddles of a terrorist madman (Jeremy Irons), and it’s a thrill ride. In The Whole Nine Yards (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10), he’s hitman that screws up dentist Matthew Perry’s boring life in Canada, and—aside from one frustrating scene of let’s-objectify-women-style nudity—it’s hilarious.

10. This Is the End (2013)

On paper, this is not a movie for me. An irreverent stoner comedy about a bunch of bros partying it up before the end of the world? None of things are for Taylors. But with a little help of a TV edit to pare down the raunchy and crude bits, I laughed my way through and spent the next several days thinking through its exploration of what makes a good person. While little of the plot is accurate to Christian Gospel and theology, some of its big ideas are consistent enough with the themes of the book of Revelation I found myself thinking about it again in church this morning. (Would love to know if Seth Rogen ever expected that.) Plus, I love a good self-aware celebrity spoof—can’t tell you how many times I’ve just laughed remembering the line, “It’s me, Jonah Hill, from Moneyball”—and an homage to horror classics. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10

July Critic Picks

1. Summer of Soul (…or, When the Television Could Not Be Televised) (2021)

Even director Questlove didn’t know about the Harlem Cultural Festival, but now he’s compiled the footage so we can all enjoy one of the coolest music fest lineups ever, including The 5th Dimension, B.B. King, Gladys Knight and the Pips, Nina Simone, Sly and the Family Stone, and Stevie Wonder, who made my friend’s baby dance more than once in the womb. See it on the big screen for top-notch audio. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

2. Good Morning, Vietnam (1987)

Robin Williams takes on the bureaucracy, disillusionment, and malaise of the Vietnam War with comedy. Williams was a one-of-a-kind talent, and here it’s on display at a level on par with Aladdin. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9/10

3. Against the Rules Season 2 (2020-21)

Michael Lewis (author of Moneyball, adapted into a film starring Jonah Hill), is interested in how we talk about fairness. This season he looks at how coaches impact fairness in areas like college admissions, credit cards, and youth sports.

4. Bugsy Malone (1976)

A gangster musical starring only children? It’s a little like someone just picked ideas out of a hat, but somehow it works. You can hear why in the Bugsy Malone episode Kyla and I released this month on SO IT’S A SHOW?, plus how this weird artifact of a film connects with Gilmore Girls.

5. The Queen (2006)

Before The Crown, Peter Morgan wrote The Queen, focusing on Queen Elizabeth II (Helen Mirren) in the days following the death of Princess Diana. It’s a complex and compassionate drama, both for the Queen and for Prime Minister Tony Blair (Michael Sheen, who has snuck up on me to become a favorite character actor). Maybe I’ve got a problem, but I’ll never tire of the analysis of this famous family. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9.5/10

6. The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean (1972)

This month at ZekeFilm, we took a closer look at Revisionist Westerns we’ve missed. I fell hard for Roy Bean, and I think you will, too, if for no other reason than you might like a story starring Jacqueline Bisset, Ava Gardner, John Huston, Paul Newman, and Anthony Perkins. Oh, and a bear! Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 10/10

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7. New Trailer Round Up

Naked Singularity (Aug. 6) – John Boyega in a crime thriller!

Queenpins (Aug. 10) – A crime comedy about extreme coupon-ing!

Dune (Oct. 1) – I’ve been cooler on the anticipation for this film, but this new look has me cautiously intrigued thanks to the Bardem + Bautista + Brolin + Chalamet + Ferguson + Isaac + Momoa + Zendaya of it all.

The Last Duel (Oct. 15) – Affleck! Damon! Driver!

Ghostbusters: Afterlife (Nov. 11) - I’m not sure why we need this, but I’m down for the Paul Rudd + Finn Wolfhard combo

King Richard (Nov. 19) - Will Smith as Venus and Serena’s father!

Encanto (Nov. 24) – Disney and Lin-Manuel Miranda making more magic together!

House of Gucci (Nov. 24) - Gaga! Pacino! Driver!

Also in July…

Kyla and I took a look at the classic supernatural soap Dark Shadows and why Sookie might be obsessed with it on Gilmore Girls.

I revisited a so-bad-it’s-good masterpiece that’s a surrealist dream even Fellini couldn’t have cooked up. Yes, for ZekeFilm I wrote about the Vanilla Ice movie, Cool as Ice, which is now a part of my Blu-ray collection.

Photo credits: Against the Rules. All others IMDb.com.

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jadedragoness · 4 years

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Battle Ground 1st Read Through Reaction

Can I just start off by saying, Holy crap. Chicago got curb-stomped hard. So freaking hard.

I really, really, enjoyed the story. I pretty much didn’t want to stop reading as soon as I cracked open the covers of the book but I did have to have periods of giving myself a break and just put the book down and go do something sensible like do the dishes instead of screaming or shaking my fists at the sky like a lunatic.

I do admit that as a story the continuous battle was draining and exhausting to read. But I think that was the point so I don’t really count it against the story. It is something important to know going in, and why I’d recommend breaks.

Let’s talk spoilers… just assume spoilers for everything Dresden Files related too. Ummm, also this runs long.

First Let’s Me Tell You About the Thing Which Exploded My Brain:

1. MARCONE IS FREAKING KNIGHT OF THE BLACKENED DENARIUS! WHHHAAAAT!!

...okay, I’m done screaming about it.

OF FREAKING THORNED NAMSHIEL!!! ...I lied, I wasn’t done. How long? What? When? I didn’t see this coming at all! And I’m so freaking torn about how to feel about it.

I am so damned (heh) relieved that Marcone’s didn’t die at Ethniu’s hands. I seriously freaked at the moment she snapped his neck that I went into instant denial and my eyes skipped several paragraph down out of the desperate wish to see if it was trick. I’m also very, very delighted that Marcone is now so much harder to kill. I mean, he was already pretty hard to kill being Marcone but this just takes it up to eleven.

On the other hand, a Fallen Angel is so freaking dangerous. *makes gargling worried noises* And while it looks like Marcone appears to have worked out a partnership with the coin I can’t help but remember that when we were first introduced to this Fallen he was called ‘Thorned Namshiel’ and not by the name of his bearer. So he appears to be the type to subsume the human who holds him. Which makes me worried that Marcone could be on that path and not even realize it. *goes back to making gargling worried noises*

I do find reassuring that the coin is on a chain around his neck and therefore easily removed and not buried in his body like some of the other Denarians will do.

However, I am feeling a little disappointed Marcone is no longer purely a ‘vanilla’ mortal who stood toe-to-toe eldritch beings and survived by simply being smarter, deadlier and amazeballs. I’ll miss that. I always thought that it was especially hilarious how much Harry would freak out about Marcone and how deadly Marcone is when even in the same room as scary monsters (like in ;Skin Game;, I mean seriously he was in the same room as Nicodemus and Harry was hardcore worried about upsetting Marcone… hilarious!) when Marcone was a vanilla mortal… but now he’s not.

And yet, now Marcone knows how to sling around magic and is incredibly hard to kill. *thumbs up at Jim Butcher* Yeeeessssss! *is so happy*

Although… if Harry doesn’t end up making all manner of ‘thorny’ jokes at Marcone I’m going to be very disappointed. =D

Things I Sorta Expected:

1. Murphy dying.

Now, I totally bawled at the scene after Rudolph shot Murphy. I especially lost it when Harry kept referring to her body as an ‘empty house.’ ARGH. But I wasn’t actually surprised that she died. I did feel like I got a very strong sense it was going to happen. Actually, from how often Harry’s thoughts seemed to be pinging in that direction I was partially convinced his wizardly ‘insight’ was kicking in and trying to warn him.

And he tried. He really did.

But ultimately it was Karrin’s own choice to be away from safety and be her badass self.

2. Hendricks’ dying.

I’ve actually have read the short story ‘Monsters’ from Goodman Grey’s POV and I’ve read it a little over a week ago and in it he notes Marcone’s bodyguard as a dumb Einherjaren. Which made my brain go: Whoa, wait… where’s Hendricks? Is Hendricks dead? Did Hendricks die and become in Einherjaren? Or is he off doing something and one of those guys is taking over for a bit? Fuck, Hendricks is dying in ‘Battle Ground’ isn’t he?

So I wasn’t exactly surprised, but I was still very, very upset. And when Ethniu picked up Hendrick’s corpse and smashed him into Marcone that’s where I lost it. Like totally lost it while also being worried about Marcone at the same time. Gah.

Curveballs I Did Not Expect:

1. Marva and Drakul. The deaths of Wild Bill and Yoshimo at the hands of Black Court vampires and the threat that we may see them again as Black Court? Did not see that coming. I expected to lose Wardens but not like that.

...and I may be in denial about Chandler (I like the guy, okay) being dead. Please. He’s a wizard. He’ll be back. Of course as soon as I wrote that I was instantly struck of by the thought of: “Yeah, but will you like what you get back?”

2. Also Drakul is a starborn? I get more and more curious about what it means! I’m with Harry in frothing in frustration over how people won’t tell him already! *screams into the void*

Also Kincaid worked for this guy? *shudders*

3. Marcone and Thorned Namshiel. *gurgles*

4. Justine had Nemesis in her! And for years?!

How in the hell are they going to save her? Mab barely saved Lea and she’s Mab!

Also I thought Nemesis was very infectious. Is there anyone else around who has been infected? Maybe among Harry’s friends with Justine as the vector? *is worried*

5. Not getting a resolution on the situation with the Svartalves. Or did I miss something? Seriously, the ending of the book felt like it was missing about 30 more pages to wrap up and work a bit more on characters.

Things I Did Not Like or Was Disappointed By:

1. Rudolph getting to live. Fuck that guy.

Okay, I understand that his not getting murdered at Harry’s hands wasn’t really for Rudolph’s sake but for Harry’s own soul. I just want him dead. Dammit, is it too much to ask for him to have been shot by a turtleneck or stomped by a Jotun or splattered by Formor acid that slowly ate away at his guts as screamed until his internal organs slowly dissolved?

I have may have a bloodthirsty vengeful streak. And yet: want.

2. I also may have narrowed my eyes at the end of the book there after Harry said that Marcone was dropping off the keys and then it turned out Lara had picked them up instead. I may have also said aloud, “Butcher, are you Marcone-blocking me?” And he was, dammit, because I didn’t get to read more Marcone.

… I do not have a Marcone-addiction.

3. This is more disappointment than dislike but I didn’t get nearly as much Goodman Grey as I thought I’d get. Aw.

4. Harry not getting to talk to Ivy. *grumbles*

Things I Really Liked/Loved

1. Harry got his home back! And it’s the castle! The castle he all but swindled out of Marcone. Yes, I love it! I love Marcone but doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it when Harry get the best of him too. Anyway, I just love the fact that Harry is claiming parts of his life back from the traumatic heart-stomp events which occurred in ‘Changes’. *bounces in excitement* Now he just needs an office!

2. Marcone. Always. Actually I was a little afraid when he vanished after the battle started that there would be very little Marcone in this book too because Butcher is so Marcone-stingy.

3. That Harry is no longer a member of the White Council. I mean, they’ve been pretty useless to helping Harry out. And honestly, Harry has gotten so many headaches from them that I can’t help but think this is a weight he needed to shed.

Although, it really feeds my ‘Harry needs to become a member of the accords in his own right’ thing again. Seriously, he’s the Warden of Demonreach. He bound a Titan. It needs to happen. Ooh, or the Paranet can see about becoming an Accorded organization in their own right and then Harry can be with them. Yeeeessss.

4. Bob is back in Harry’s hands! Freaking yes! Whoohooo! About time! Oooh, wait, has Bob meet Bonnie? Can we read this happening? OMG, I want it so much… or would Harry be too horrified to let Bob influence his spirit-kid? LoL.

5. Seeing Toot-toot and Lacuna again! And when Harry pulled his ‘Za Lord’ maneuver and got the Guard and a ton of other fairies to help in the defense of… well, pizza in Chicago, that was great I punched the air.

The I gloated even more over how Mab then explained Harry had scared some of the others with that move. Heh.

6. River Shoulders was so damn badass and amazeballs and like Wild Bill said, I’ll take two.

7. Michael and Charity already knowing that Molly is the Winter Lady and being the best parents and loving and accepting and… so much love for those two.

EVERYTHING MARCONE… yes, he’s getting his own heading

1. Gah, I love him. I have mentioned this before. That one of the first things he says to Harry when Harry is staring at him as he changes clothes is to paraphrase ‘did you forget how to get dressed or is this an awkward sexual reconnaissance’ nearly killed me. I was caught between giggling and choking on my own spit and then I nearly fell off the couch. Just remembering about it now, has me giggling at the computer screen.

2. Also, I find that ‘Excellent’ response from Marcone after they exchange threats to be fascinating. This was one of those points were I put the book down and wondered what Marcone meant by that. Then I had the thought that maybe in his own fashion, Marcone was doing the same thing that practically everyone had been doing with Harry since he got back from being shot. He was checking to see if Harry was still the same man he’d been before. And from Harry’s response, Yup. He was. So: “Excellent.”

Having also read ‘Skin Game‘ and how cold Marcone is in the end there? The difference with this Marcone versus the one where Mab was listening? I find that interesting too!

3. When Marcone showed up to the fight! So freaking badass! Love how he led the fighters.

Also I find it significant that both of the guys who are obsessed with protecting Chicago were the ones who manifested ‘banners’ which drew humans to the fight.

Really cool. And it reminds me all over again that for all their different life philosophies Marcone and Dresden do agree on the mantra of: Protect Chicago.

4. This book, especially the lake beach scene reminded me so hard why I love the banter between Harry and Marcone so much. When it just seems to be the two of them and they aren’t actively threatening each they have such a great rapport! Loved reading it! Wished we got more of it in the books.

5. Okay, with Hendricks’ death I’m rather worried for Marcone. ‘Even Hand’ gave the impression Hendricks often acted as a very gentle conscience to Marcone. Losing him has got to be hitting Marcone hard. And that I now know he only has a Fallen angel on his shoulder?

Yup, growing more worried for Marcone at the time.

6. I’m also wondering about what was said in that exchange between Mab and Marcone on the roof when Harry called out Marcone for about being the Lord of Chicago needing to be more than talk. Okay, I can guess. I just really, really want to hear the words because I bet Marcone was badass.

7. The Lord of Chicago giving Harry the title of the Wizard of Chicago? Freaking loved it.

8. Also Marcone freaking purred. Purred. “Prove it,” he purred. “Hero.”

I think Jim Butcher is trying to give me a heart attack or cause me to crack my skull on floor because I nearly fell off the couch again.

9. With Marcone now outed as a magic-wielding Denarian does that mean we get more of him in the future books? Because I freaking hope so... I say this even knowing I’d have the exact same wish even without him being a magic-wielding Denarian.

Things I Found Completely Hilarious

1. Marcone’s opening lines to Harry. Heh. Forever Lol!

2. Is Lacuna a tooth fairy? Her obsession with teeth cracked me up so much.

3. That Mab smacking both Lara and Harry with those wedding plans. *snickers* I mean, I find it totally hilarious because of how gobsmacked both of them were about it. I don’t expect Harry to go through with it at all, not with how we know how seriously he takes relationships. So either he’s going to get out of being the Winter Knight or find some other way to defy Mab. Or hell, maybe Lara gets them both out of it by marrying someone else first. Honestly, I can’t see her agreeing to marry someone who’d burn her with a touch.

Pure Speculation or Things that Just Excite Me for the Future:

1. Now I bet you’re all wondering why I’m not more upset about Murphy or Hendricks dying. Simply put, I’m 100% convinced that when both Murphy and Hendricks wake up in Valhalla, in drinking (with quaffing I bet) halls full of grunting, fighting obsessed Vikings and they will go ‘Nope, I’m out!’ three seconds later. Those two? Especially knowing how much trouble Harry and Marcone have got to be getting up to without them? They’d probably join forces and stage a breakout to get back.

This is what occurred to me the moment Gard explained what happened to their bodies. The whole not come back until everyone who knew them was gone, yeah, right. Not happening.

Or, jeeze, I can’t image Marcone not thinking this was a possibility and then not having made plans to bust Hendricks out and you know Murphy would demand to come along too. And with Thorned Namshiel providing help? I can see this happening.

...okay, this idea sneaked into my head but now I’m seeing Murphy (having busted out of Valhalla with a bunch of Einherjaren) and learning about the upcoming nuptials between Lara and Harry leads a raiding party (what else, with Vikings!) to bride nap (groom nap?) Harry away before he says “I do.“ Heh. This would be hilarious.

2. I’m sorta vibrating with the possibilities of what the future will bring with a Chicago that is waking up to the dangers of the supernatural while at the same time having learned that it is possible to stand up to monsters and kill them. Especially, what this means when bad things go down in Chicago again, because of course they will. And there may be more people joining in the fight.

Hmm, can the Paranet be deployed as a means of bringing vanilla mortals in or educating them so they don’t go after the good guys? They do sort of stand in the middle, more so than Harry. *lost in thoughts*

3. While I’m actually a little surprised that Ebenezar made it out alive as I actually had him down on my ‘Will Probably Die List’. I was relieved as I hope to see him and Harry actually have that conversation which Harry wants. Seriously, if only for Maggie’s sake, who shouldn’t have her first and last memory of her Great-Grandpa be him being a total jerk.

4. Harry can bind the prisoners of Demonreach to do his bidding? *blinks* Ooh, the possibilities.

5. These Librarians, the Men in Black of the DF ‘verse, sound amazing and I can’t wait to see them show up.

#the dresden files #battle ground #Harry Dresden #harry blackstone copperfield Dresden #The Curbstomp of Chicago #spoilers #battle ground spoilers #dresden files spoilers #karrin Murphy #mab #review/reaction #formor war #formor #river shoulders #nathan hendricks #john marcone #gentleman john marcone #book spoilers

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howlingmedic · 4 years

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Coming Home: Chapter 4

Coming Home:

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Synopsis: what happens when the person who finally made their world make sense is taken from them? What happens when the people who were supposed find her can’t? Warnings: high key angst, fighting (lots), miscommunication (so much), references to blood, idiots in love who don’t know what to do with themselves, Tony trying to be supportive Relationship: Stucky x Angel!OFC A/N: Instead of doing any of the things I should have, I wrote the flashbacks for this chapter. It’s long. Very long. I’m sorry. I’m a disaster human who can’t cut down on content. Word Count: 5k (I’m sorry)

Chapter 4: Memories, Revelations, and Hope

Knowing, or at the very least being fairly sure, Allie was alive did not mean finding her was a cakewalk. It turned out it was her blood on the angel blade. That piece of news had left Bucky in bed for almost 24 hours straight and convinced him she couldn't be alive. It wasn’t until Steve coaxed him out to try praying again that he redoubled down on her being alive. Whenever there was that intangible feeling of her grace to cling to, things got a bit easier. Further analysis of the blood came back a couple of days after the initial confirmation of her DNA, and it divulged information that proved far more useful: the blood was fresh, no more than a week old. “Of course, the blade could have been transported there to throw us off, but given that we didn’t have any leads, that just doesn’t add up,” Sam explained over the phone when he finished reading off the report the lab tech had sent him.

Sam hadn’t even finished talking by the time Bucky was headed for his suit. Steve hastily thanked their friend and darted across the apartment to slow Bucky down. “I’m going after her, Stevie. 104 fuckin’ days. We’ve been without her 104 days, and we’ve almost killed each other god knows how many damned times. I’ve waited long enough. ‘M gonna rip that fuckin’ base apart,” Bucky growled before Steve even got the chance to say a word or reach out for him.

“I wasn’t going to say we don’t go for the base,” Steve fibbed and quickly changed track, “I just was going to say we do some more scans of it and the surrounding area. It’s pretty obvious we missed something, and these fuckers have proven they’re slippery bastards.” The last few words slipped into his Brooklyn accent that only comes out when he’s truly emotional about something - even when that emotion is hatred. Bucky’s eyes snapped up to meet Steve’s at the change in his voice, and his hands stilled in the bag he was rifling through.

“You’re afraid of these guys,” he stated. And wasn’t that the damned truth. Tactically, Steve’s plan was probably the better option as well. Less emotionally charged. More measured. That didn’t mean shit to Steve this time, though. Nothing about what they had done to this point had been in the name tactical soundness. There had been more than one instance of busting into bases and hideouts with no plan other than “find Allie.”

Steve nodded and shrugged before he could find the words to answer. “Well, yeah, Buck. I already lost her to them. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you too,” he finally said and closed the gap between them. “Will you let me ask Tony if he could do a fly-by? A few more scans? Maybe look for some subterranean spaces?” Steve asked hesitantly as he reached out to grasp Bucky’s wrist. Their eyes met again, and Bucky pulled back from Steve; in the process, the bag flew across the roomy and hit the opposite wall with a heavy thud.

“Are you seriously going to try to coddle me? Fucking protect me?” Bucky seethed and stomped off to grab the bag. His entire body radiated rage from the way his shoulders were set and locked to the purpose with which he walked.

It hit Steve like a truck that the only time he had seen that gait was when he faced the Soldier. He rolled his shoulders and squared them. If Bucky wanted to fight, fine. Steve wasn’t going to let him leave for a suicide mission that easily. “Yeah. I am gonna fucking protect you,” He retorted. Each word out of his mouth became a little more thickly laced in his Brooklyn drawl, and by the time he got through the sentence, he sounded like he had stepped back into the ’40s. This time Bucky didn’t flinch at it.

“How do you plan on keeping me here, Steve?” Bucky asked drily.

“I’m not above fightin’ ya. Not if it’ll keep ya safe,” Steve answered, temper rising and eyes narrowing.

Bucky started digging in the bag again, searching for something Steve couldn’t identify. “Since fucking when have you given a shit about safety?” And that sounded so much more like the old Bucky that it stunned Steve to silence for a split second. Usually, a reaction like that would’ve made Bucky laugh no matter how at each other’s throats they were. Tonight it just made him scoff and roll his eyes. “See, even you know you’ve never cared before.”

“That’s fucking absurd,” Steve spat, finally stepping closer while eyeing Bucky’s hands.

“Well, I can’t come up with a single other damned time you’ve stopped for safety when it was a choice between having someone you love back in your life and losing them!” He shouted, and Steve thought he might finally see where this was headed.

“What? Because I stopped fighting you? Is that what this is about? Huh, Buck? Is this about me choosing not to kill you on that damned helicarrier? Are we really going to drag this back up?” Steve shouted back, matching Bucky’s volume, and throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Yes! Damn it, Steve! What’s different? You started an entire fucking war and nearly let me fucking kill you to save me! What the fuck is different about me charging in there guns blazing?” Bucky yelled. Just then, his hands closed around something in the bag. He drew it out, and he let out an unsteady breath. Steve’s furious reply about growing up and actually having something to live for now died on his tongue. Bucky drew out a book Steve had only seen once before. It was one of Bucky’s most treasured possessions, one that was intensely private, one that was from before it had been the three of them - when it was just him and Allie.

The first thing Steve noticed when he looked up at the sound of footsteps slowing at his office was that Allie was humming a Christmas song under her breath. It was mid-September, and apparently she was already thinking about Christmas. Steve smiled and listened as she explained she wanted to do something special, something Bucky could cling to on the bad days when his memory wasn’t great, or he was stuck reliving the bad moments. Steve was about to counter her statement with the same line he usually used when she got stuck in her like this, “You being there is enough, Alex. He only needs you.” This time he was cut off before he got the chance. She needed Steve’s help, “to pull it off,” she had said with a smile that lit up the whole room. When he had asked what that meant, she had blushed an adorable shade of pink and suddenly resembled a child who was certain their parent was going to say no to their request. “I need you to falsify some mission reports, make it look like I’m out doing reconnaissance or something. Bucky can’t know why I’m gone, it’ll ruin the surprise,” she had explained while twirling her hair around her finger, and that was the day Steve learned the angel’s nervous habit, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“If you’re doing it for Buck, Alex, I’m not gonna say no, but I have to know where you’re going, and you’re not going alone,” he had answered cautiously with his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I won’t be leaving New York, at least not immediately… I just won’t exactly be reachable,” she had answered coyly, her fingering never ceasing its movement.

“Alex, cut the crap. What are you up to?” Steve asked firmly but warmly, and she went scarlet as her finger stilled, and she began to chew on her bottom lip.

“Well, I - uh,” she started and sighed. “I’m going back in time to collect a few things to put in a scrapbook. It’ll take a lot of grace, which is why I need to have the cover story of some missions, but I shouldn’t be in any real danger. Nobody had any angelic weapons on Earth back then, and I know exactly where to pop into to get like 98 percent of what I need.” When she started explaining, the words rushed from her as though she had been dying to tell somebody her plan, and by the time she stopped talking, her eyes were shining with excitement, and that dazzling smile was back on her face. Steve was powerless to say no.

The next time he had been involved with the book, Allie had shown up at his office with an exhausted smile stretched across her face and a few pieces of blank paper in her hand. “It’s all finished except for your letter,” She said from the doorway, and all Steve could do was nod. She had told him two weeks ago that she wanted a letter from everyone in The Tower for the book, notes to help remind Bucky that he really did have a family here, that he belonged. Steve was the last one left who hadn’t been able to produce something. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to write a letter; he just didn’t know what to say. How can you sum up a friendship that ran as deep as theirs? Steve rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“Leave the paper here; I’ll text you when I’m done. Promise I’ll get it to you by morning,” he told her and glanced bleary-eyed at the clock. Two in the morning. He didn’t need sleep, and the reports could wait. That was the night he had fallen for the angel he could never have.

When Bucky showed Steve the book, Bucky and Allie were engaged, and Allie was in a coma. Or...they thought she was in a coma. Nobody was entirely sure if the daughter of an archangel could go into a coma, not even Loki. Bucky insisted she would pull through, but Steve had his doubts. Steve had been there when Allie tried to sacrifice herself to heal Bucky on the battlefield. He had been the one to pull Allie away from Bucky to stop her from doing just that. He had been the one to scream into the comms that he needed Loki. He had watched the God save them both. Finish what Allie had started with Bucky and somehow restore an angel who risked everything to save his best friend, and then he had sat in the MedBay with Bucky. Pouring over a book Allie had painstakingly assembled by hand and listening to Bucky as he recounted each memory stored in those pages, each way she had helped to hold him together, the ways she completed him. Steve’s heart broke, and yet he fell in love with both of them. One love that had always been there, and one that was new, and yet it wasn’t his to have. Until it was.

Steve’s mind hurdled back to the present, and he tried to shake off the last memory. It was a time he would always rather forget. He looked again at the book in front of him and realized it was different. The golden block lettering on the brown leather cover was an elegant, thin, silver script, and this one was less worn. It was new, brand new. That was the starkest contrast to the well-worn leather cover of Bucky’s book that had a permanent home next to Bucky’s leather chair in their living room at home.

“What - what’s that?” he asked lamely.

“Something that might just fuckin’ pull your head out of your ass,” Bucky groused and lobbed the book at him. Steve caught it effortlessly and flipped it open. It was similar, strikingly so, but not entirely the same as the one Bucky had at home. There were many of the same photos and ticket stubs filling the beginning pages. Then news clippings of the Howlies much like before, but interspersed were drawings Steve hadn’t seen in decades. Ones that had been “lost to time,” as the Smithsonian had put it. Steve faltered and swayed on the spot. She had done what she promised never to do again: gone back in time. She had risked everything for him to have these pieces of his past. The ones that were exclusively Steve. The intimate moments shared alone in his Captain’s tent with Bucky that he had captured and the dancing monkey drawing. She had saved all of them, and in doing so, she had kept them from the press. She had saved him again.

Steve’s legs started to buckle, and he less than gracefully got himself to the ground before falling. From his spot on the floor, he glanced up at Bucky, who had started to check his weapons. If the other man had seen him hit the ground, he didn’t let it show. Steve kept leafing forward. There were the notes from teammates and photos of the group, of him alone, of little moments spent with his family. Then there was a longer note. He stopped. He couldn’t. Not now. He couldn’t read her carefully chosen and delicately written words. The elegant swoop of her script danced across the page, and Steve snapped the book closed.

This wasn’t how he was supposed to given this gift, of that much he was sure. “How dare you,” he breathed from just behind his fiancé. “How fucking dare you?” He asked again when Bucky didn’t respond quickly enough. Steve’s fists were clenched at his side, and he was acutely aware of the fact that Bucky held a loaded pistol in his metal hand.

“I needed you to realize what she did just ta make ya smile,” Bucky snarled and spun around, discarding the weapon lazily. If this went to blows, it was going to be fists. “Needed you to know how much she fucking cares and see how absurd you sound asking for more scans!”

“Why? Why, Bucky? Because I want us to make it out of this alive?” Steve pleaded. He wasn’t even sure he was angry anymore. He was just frustrated and confused.

“Because she wouldn’t wait! She would fucking go in there without a second thought,” Bucky finally shouted and threw his hands in the air in frustration.

“Jesus,” Steve sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “that’s what’s got you this worked up?”

“Yeah, it bloody is,” Bucky growled as his anger started to mount again.

“Damn it, Buck! Listen to yourself!” He pushed a few weapons aside and sat on the table on which Bucky had placed the checked ones. “First of all, if we don’t make it, we can’t bring her home. She’s always reminding us we are still technically humans who can, in fact, die. Don’t do a whole lotta good to go rescue her if we ain’t there to help her recover, does it?” Steve asked but didn’t give him any time to answer. “And you think she could ever forgive herself if we got hurt or died trying to save her?” This time Steve paused and looked up at Bucky expectantly. The other man’s features had softened substantially, and he had the decency to look slightly bashful, finally.

“No,” he whispered and set the knife whose locking mechanism he had been inspecting down.

“Exactly. Besides, if we take the time to do some scans, we can organize the team. Tony has been working on isolating the energy signature of her grace from previous times she’s used it. He might be able to scan for her like you would for a heat signature.”

“Ok. Ok, fine,” Bucky huffed and shuffled away. Just like that, the anger was gone. The promise of backup, of not being alone anymore, was enough, and Steve let out of a silent sigh of relief.

Steve turned to go after him only to find him picking up the book. Every ounce of fear and heartbreak Bucky had weathered these past several months showed in his eyes when he stood back up. “Did you even read what she said, Steve?” Bucky asked tightly, the plates of his arm shifting anxiously.

“I couldn’t, babe. Not like this,” Steve admitted and came to stand in front of him. He didn’t reach out to him; he never was the first to initiate contact after a fight like this one. He would always let Bucky dictate the pace because he often needed longer to calm down, but Steve did take the book gingerly from Bucky’s hand and set it aside. “I’m guessing she was waiting for a special occasion to give it to me?”

“Yeah, your birthday,” Bucky answered quietly, his fear and frustration deflating into something more vulnerable, but Steve couldn’t place what. When his gaze finally met Steve’s properly, the pain written across every feature was enough to put a lump in Steve’s throat.

“Bucky… babe, what?” Steve asked disjointedly as his eyes darted to the book and then back to Bucky’s face.

“S’nothing that changes anything… just not sure, not sure she’ll be ready again,” Bucky mumbled and turned away, but Steve saw tears begin to well in his eyes.

“Doll? Whatcha mean ready?” he asked even though he thought he might know what Bucky had meant; he still needed to hear it.

It was a question she asked often and in many varied forms: “What do you see in our future?” It was usually asked under cover of darkness, with sweaty limbs tangled in sheets, and only the stars and city lights to illuminate the room. This time, however, it was asked in the Tony called them. Steve had a hunch they were only labeled safe houses because of how remote they were.

The latest mission went long, a month longer than anyone had anticipated, and Allie had proposed a vacation. Unsurprisingly, neither Steve nor Bucky protested. All three were a bit worse for wear, and Allie’s wings had suffered the brunt of an explosion. If a vacation would keep her from trying to get back in the field too early, Steve would take a vacation. Something sounded different in Allie’s voice when she asked what their futures might look like this time, though. She sounded less idly curious and like she was leading to something. Her gaze seemed far off as she took in the pool deck and the coastal view. Bucky’s hand that had been tracing up her bare thigh froze. Steve gave her a long considering look and cleared his throat to buy himself another moment to decide on an answer. He refused to jump to any conclusions. He and Bucky had concluded months ago that they wanted a family with her, but Allie said there were things she needed to handle first. Threats that had to be taken care of and people who needed to be behind bars, if not underground.

“Doll, why do you ask?” Steve asked with the utmost caution. He wouldn’t push it, not now. Not ever. No matter how much he wanted that life.

“I just… what if we got away from the fights? I’m so damned tired of fighting,” she grumbled and rolled so she was laying across their laps. “I don’t know about anything else, but I know I’m tired of fighting.”

That had been seven months ago. They hadn’t stopped fighting yet. Every time they talked about it, there was another group popping up who were threatening to end the world, or another alien invasion trying to enslave humanity. It never ended, and now Steve was holding his breath because here was Bucky implying he might have been free in a matter of weeks. The summer heat of the apartment suddenly melted away and left an icy chill in Steve’s chest where his heart should be.

Bucky turned back to face him, but he didn’t speak. He just stared at the book. When his gaze finally flitted back to Steve, the dam broke, and he started rambling. “She wanted to try… she was ready… and she wanted to tell you with something special, something that you could add memories to like I can do with mine. She put together one for the three of us too, but I left the others at home. I thought - I thought I would give you yours if we failed, so you would know how much she loved you. That there was no way in hell she gave up without fighting; so that we could look at the good times together, but I got so damn angry cause I knew what we should be going through together right now, and it ain’t this shit.”

There it was. The blow that sent Steve reeling. She had wanted to try. She had wanted to start a family. He should be painting a nursery, and instead, they’re squatting in a derelict building. He should be trying to figure what he can eat around her without making her sick, but instead, they’re stealing from the restaurant two doors down. This was all wrong. All fucking wrong. He stared unseeingly at Bucky. His eyes were glazed with tears, and yet none would fall. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He certainly couldn’t speak.

“Steve?” Bucky asked after several moments of utterly still silence, but no matter how hard Steve blinked to clear his eyes and look at Bucky, the tears wouldn’t budge. It took several more seconds for him to comprehend that his face was wet with them. Once that registered, a shuddering sob wrenched itself from somewhere deep in his soul, and he hit his knees. The contact with the ground stung, but he didn’t care. That didn’t matter. If anything, the pain was welcomed because it was the only thing that made sense. The life he had built with the only two people on this planet who could see beyond the walls he put up had crumbled in front of him. The future he had dreamed of had been within grasp, and then it had been snatched from him like every other good thing he ever had.

He couldn’t be sure how long he had wept when he felt Bucky’s metal hand close around his shoulder, heavy and cold. It grounded him back to the moment, and slowly his sobs subsided. “You with me?” Bucky breathed, and Steve hiccuped and nodded. “We can still have that life. It ain’t gone, promise,” Bucky continued, and Steve sat there numbly. “I went through this too when we first lost her, s’why I spent so much time meditating and alone. I had to grieve not only her but the life we were going to live, but Steve, we’ve got a lead. A real one. Yeah, we need to be a bit more measured than I was gonna be, but we’re on the brink of bringing her home.”

Something in what Bucky said clicked in Steve’s brain. He wasn’t sure what, but he knew Bucky was right. There was finally hope, and that was going to have to be enough for the moment. He took a shaky breath and finally faced Bucky. His cheeks tear-stained and puffy, his eyes red and swollen. Bucky smiled. The past two hours didn’t matter. “C’mere,” Steve rasped out, and Bucky moved to him immediately. They held each other as they had so many times. The extra weight it had seemed like Bucky was carrying made sense finally. Steve sighed and kissed Bucky for what felt like the first time in ages, and then he realized it didn’t just seem like the first time in ages; it was the first time in ages. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss, letting every ounce of remorse and love pour into it, communicating all the things he had failed to for so long. Steve’s hands found Bucky’s shoulders at the same time that Bucky’s flesh hand tangled into his hair, and the metal cupped his cheek.

When they separated, they both were panting and misty-eyed. “We gotta talk more,” Bucky told him as their breath leveled out. All Steve could do to answer was nod before his phone rang from somewhere across the apartment. There was a moment’s shared look -This can wait; we’re ok - before he got up to find the phone.

“Stark,” The screen read, and they shared a look of mingled dread and hope before answering. “Tony, whatcha got?” Steve asked without any preamble. Just like that, the fight, the revelation, and the kiss were all gone. Captain America replaced Steve Rogers, and it was time for work.

“I think I’ve got a distinct energy signature of Allie’s grace, or at the very least angelic grace. Now, Wilson told me about the angel blade and the blood and all of that, so I went ahead and did a bit of very fast flying and got Rhodey to do a bit of satellite maneuvering.” Stark paused for a just moment before his tone shifted from business to inquisitive, “Come to think of it, why hadn’t you called and asked for any of this? I usually can’t get anything done without you two breathing down my neck.”

Steve sighed and looked to Bucky, who just nodded. “We had some things to sort out. It’s been a long three months. For the love of God, Tony, please just tell us what you have, so we can get to work on our end.” “Alright, alright. Got it. Lover’s quarrel. Anywho! Given what Wilson found and the loose leads from Nat, we focused our search on the area where this all started and the surrounding town. Now, what’s the one thing we hadn’t searched for on that compound given that we had been inside it already?” Tony asked, and both Bucky and Steve groaned. Steve had to bat Bucky’s hand away from grabbing the phone. The moment made Steve grin. It was their typical banter, and it felt amazing. “We hadn’t looked for anything underground because there were no indications of a lower level,” Steve finally supplied when it was apparent Tony wasn’t going to proceed without their participation.

“Righto, Cap!” Tony quipped cheerfully, and they could hear the clatter of keys on the other end, “Well, we should’ve. There’s a whole network of underground tunnels and cells between the compound and the town. My guess is that’s how they got the drop on you before. Here’s where it gets good, though. I’ve got an energy signal down there that matches what we’ve identified as Allie’s,” Tony reported, but there was something off. It didn’t match Tony’s victorious, “I’ve solved the problem speeches.” Before Steve could open his mouth, Tony answered the unspoken question, “I’ve got to tell you two, it’s weaker than what I expected it to be. We almost missed it.”

The air had been sucked from the room. Steve was sure of it. His mouth had been glued together too, but he wasn’t sure how. Bucky grabbed the phone from him as he began to drop it. “What the fuck do you mean weak, Tony?” Bucky asked - no, growled - and it was the last thing Steve heard before he had to get up and start pacing to get control of his nerves. Suddenly, Tony’s voice filled the entire apartment, and Steve registered that Bucky had set the phone to speaker mode, so he could begin pacing too.

“What I mean is this energy signature is at a tenth of what it seems like she’s usually at when we start a mission. Now, this is all based on Friday’s previous biometric scans, so that reading could be faulty. Maybe we haven’t ever accurately clocked her energy before. Problem is we don’t have a ton of empirical data on these things, so it’s what we’ve got to go on.”

“And it’s not good,” Bucky added. He paused for a beat, looked at Steve, then stepped towards the phone, “Tell Fury I don’t give a damn about what else is going on. Assemble the team, tell Natasha I want her drawing up the plan. I need a full comm team back at the compound. Get medical standing by. Cap and I are going to be secondary on this. I don’t think either of us is fit to be leading it, but we sure as hell aren’t sitting it out.”

“You got it,” Tony answered, then paused for a beat and added, “but pull me off speaker for a second.” Steve waved Bucky some sort of a “go ahead” gesture and stepped away to finish checking their weapons. He didn’t care what Tony would say or ask. It didn’t really matter. There were a few moments of silence before Steve started to catch the snippets of Bucky’s end of the conversation, “Jesus Christ, Tony, no. We are not okay, but we’re doing alright… Yeah, sure, we’ll go to a fucking shrink. You think I don't already have about 19 em at home?... Yeah, yeah, fuck off. Go get everyone on a damn jet… alright, thanks.”

Bucky came up behind Steve and kissed the back of his neck, and Steve leaned back into him. “Tony being Tony?” he asked softly, which earned him an undignified snort and a nod from Bucky.

“He’s checking up on ya. Can’t say I blame him after you disappeared on the call. Gonna be alright?” “Cap will be just fine to get through this. Let’s deal with the rest together and one day at a time,” Steve answered firmly. He knew the distinction between himself as Steve and Captain America wouldn’t be lost on Bucky, but there would be time to handle that afterward. As gently as possible, he extricated himself from Bucky’s hold and went to the closet to pull out their uniforms.

Their uniforms were the only things that ever got hung up in the places they squatted. It was the easiest way to store them, and it made them infinitely simpler to get on in a hurry. The star on the front of his looked nearly alien to Steve when he pulled it out of the closet. These days he associated so little with the man who had worn it proudly for years. The thought of serving a world that had utterly wrecked the one slice of peace he managed to have for himself made him want to recoil from the suit entirely, but, with a heavy sigh, he pulled both of the suits from the closet before neatly laying them on the bed.

He wasn’t doing this for the world, though. His hand had moved before his mind made the conscious decision to do so. One moment the star was front and center on the stealth suit in front of him. The next, it was in his hand. He wouldn’t do this as Captain America, even if it was easier. It might even be the safer option, but he didn’t care about that. This was Steve Rogers getting his girl back.

#Stucky x Angel!OFC #Stuck x OFC #stucky x reader #Stucky x Angel #Bucky x OFC #Bucky x Angel!OFC #Steve x Angel #Steve x OFC #Steve x Angel!OFC #Angst #hurt and comfort #Coming Home #Coming Home: Chapter 4

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poptod · 4 years

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Who The Stars Belong To (Joe Mazzello x Reader)

Description: You’re an angel. Congratulations! Now you’re a fallen angel and you crash land through the roof of a building and right into a man’s apartment.

Prompt: Innocent Notes: I don’t usually do fics with real people. I wrote this one a very long time ago and never finished it, but it’s been a bit since I’ve posted (I’m working on something) and this was the best of my unfinished fics :) I mixed a LOT of religions into this. I hope I don’t offend anyone - I myself am not highly religious, but some of my beliefs are in here. Gender neutral. Word Count: 8.7k

I am a storm. I am an oncoming battle, the thunders of a thousand wars, of a million bloodshed plains. I am the breeze of summer and the wisps of winter frost. I am a god beholden to you but nothing to your universe. And in the dead of night, I am your savior.

All you knew was life in the heavens. Being God’s messenger had its perks and all that, like getting to know a lot of the higher archangels, but you would never know what the earth held. Stories were your staple, and other than God’s word, it was what you existed on.

Before you knew it you were hurtling down to earth a hundred miles an hour, watching your home in the stars disappear from view as your eyes became human. The light of God faded away, the guidance disappeared, and you could feel your halo burn into the sky, dissipating into the darkness. Though panic pulsed through you, fresh blood appearing through once empty veins, your expression was calm. As you pounded an imprint through the clouds as you fell through them your wings began to burn, and you became a falling star, a child’s wish to never be granted.

Once your back hit the hardness of ground, you blacked out.

Drearily you opened your eyes, feeling for the first time something you knew to be pain. It floated all throughout your body, caressing you gently and holding you in a grip so unfamiliar. Your throat burned, eyes tired, and your back ached. Shoulders tense and knees stiff you sat up, letting your vision fully develop.

White walls, firm and rigid in their position, surrounded you. To your right was a glass wall, letting you see the massive buildings outside. They seemed to stretch to the sky, clouds drifting lazily by. Gulping you grasped at the sheets around you, clenching with sore fingers at the roughness they had. To your left was a closed door and an open door, one leading to something that just had to be what you’d been told was a bathroom, and the other one with jackets hanging off it.

You tried standing up, feeling bile fill your mouth at the feeling. Was that normal? No matter - you stood, watching as the world began to spin.

That’s funny, you thought to yourself, before promptly blacking out with a nice, thick thud on the floor.

Upon waking up again, the light above you was dimmer than before, and looking to your right, night encompassed the sky. Blinking slowly you turned your head back to the ceiling, trying to get yourself to at least sit up. You were back in bed, you noticed, with white and blue sheets and blankets once more surrounding you. Grasping at the sheets you pulled yourself up, pulling your legs closer to you from their straight position.

From outside the closed door to your left came noise, a banging of pots and a curse. You raised your eyebrows, having never heard them before, but knowing them nonetheless. It was required information, as an angel. Which you guessed you were banned from being for a little while.

What you might’ve done wrong filled your head, but no matter how far back you went you couldn’t think of a thing. You’d done everything asked of you. Every single thing, even if you thought it to be morally wrong, even if you wondered why you had been chosen for the job, you did it. No questions. No hesitation.

Watching yourself in the mirror across from the bed, you tilted your head curiously to the left. You weren’t supposed to look like that. You were supposed to be… angelic. Strong. A storm, with the power of thunder and the will of hail. That was your form. Not this, with its’ flimsy hair, odd eyes, and dull skin.

Another curse from the other side of the door. You turned, watching as the handle jiggled. For a moment you remained unbothered, before very quickly realizing if this was a menacing force you didn’t have your angelic powers. Not to your knowledge in the least, and testing them out wasn’t really an option. If you used them for anything but official use then they would be taken away.

The door opened, and a man holding a plate came in, a concentrated look on his face, auburn hair falling over his face. He looked the least menacing thing you’d ever seen, and your shoulders relaxed. As the door shut behind him he looked up, smiling awkwardly as he walked forward, setting the plate on the small table beside the bed. You looked at him expectantly, still confused in all essence of the word.

He seemed just as confused, glancing to the side, unable to keep your eye for more than two seconds.

“You’re, uh. You should eat,” he finally said, gesturing with his head towards the plate on the bedside table.

You didn’t need to eat, right? Whatever eating really was it looked awful. Well, you knew what eating was. Sustenance to keep humans going, meant to distract them so they didn’t reach their full potential. Too much time spent doing stuff other than getting food, or getting means for food, would’ve been disastrous.

You must’ve been too quiet for too long as he kept going.

“I made pasta. I’m not great with food, but it’s not awful, I promise,” he chuckled, shifting his weight in his anxiousness. You kept staring. He cleared his throat. “Maybe you could tell me what happened to you?”

“What?” You asked, further confused.

“You know,” he said, clearly excited that you could talk, “why you fell through my roof.”

“What?”

He now looked exasperated that you only knew one word.

“You fell through my roof. I tried to take you to a hospital but you begged me not to. Said you’d, uh, ‘put the fear of god into me,’ if I did. Neat trick you did with your eyes, too,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. He seemed to be more relaxed, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“… details?” You asked further. He paused.

He’d just been home after a late night trip to the store after realizing he was completely out of Windex when you arrived. First was a whistling sound, and he looked up, wondering curiously what it could be. His first thought was that New York was under attack, but quickly proven wrong, you crashed through the roof of his apartment, going through the one empty floor above him, landing in his living room.

Staring at your crumpled form, surrounded by broken wood, dust, and concrete, his mouth fell open, dropping the two bottles of Windex in his hand. The most astonishing part was the fact that you were moving. That, and the giant cuts running down your back, bleeding openly and dripping all over his carpet. The one other surprising thing was the fact that you were entirely naked.

Stumbling only for a moment, he dropped to your side, helping you stand.

“Holy shit, okay, uh,” he breathed out, “what happened to you?”

“Arrghhhh,” you slurred meaninglessly.

“Never mind. Let’s get to a hospital, fast,” he said, and before he could even ask his brain to make the movement for a step forward, your hand was grasping the collar of his shirt, bundling the material in a tight fist, pulling him towards your face.

“I will tear your body apart till nothing remains but your soul and you will remember why you fear God,” you said, and in the moment he heard your voice in double, watching as your eyes rolled up into your head, the red veins glowing against stark white.

“Okay,” he replied immediately, almost dropping you.

He omitted many of these details when reporting this to you, not wanting you to believe him insane.

“You crashed through my roof, and I tried to take you to the hospital but you, uh, obviously said no, and after that you blacked out, so I put you to bed. Hoped you would wake up,” was what he said.

“Of course I did,” you said, miffed, turning to face your reflection once again. It looked… wrong. Where were your horns?

“Not… not of course. That fall tends to kill people,” he laughed nervously.

You swallowed, feeling your saliva burn down your throat. Pushing the sheets off of you you tried to stand once more, watching as the world began to swing into a dance once more. The man stood with a ‘woah there,’ holding his hand over your torso in case you fell. With lazy eyelids your head fell onto his shoulder, not quite fainting but halfway there.

“You’re pretty adamant about this whole standing thing, huh?” He said with a grunt, trying to help you stand on your own.

“I am stronger than the bones your king breaks,” you mumbled.

“I don’t - okay, you’re not hungry, so let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, heaving you across the room and into the bathroom.

The lights blared painfully against the mirror, reflecting directly into your eyes. You moaned, hiding your eyes behind eyelids and his shoulder. Behind you water rushed, falling into the silver and white tub. He sat you down on the toilet, making sure you would stay there, before leaving, promising he’d be right back.

You leaned against a nearby wall, eyelids drooping over burning eyes as you waited for him to return. The water continued rushing, filling the room in a warm haze. You watched as the mirror fogged.

With a creak the door opened, and he came through with a tight smile, putting a towel and a fresh set of clothes on the counter.

“I didn’t want to wash you or anything while you were out. Would’ve been a bit weird,” he mumbled, shutting the door behind him, sticking his hand in the water to test it after.

“Where’d I get these clothes?” You asked in a whisper, and he barely heard you over the water.

“Oh, uh, they’re mine. Yours were ruined.”

“I had clothes?”

“… Yes?”

“Lying is a sin punishable by an eternity of hellfire,” you muttered.

“Okay you didn’t have clothes. Happy? I was just trying to spare you the embarrassment,” he snapped, turning off the water. He glanced at you and in a second, his anger fell from him. “Let’s get you in.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling the shirt off your torso and throwing it into a corner of the bathroom. After that he tapped your hips, looking up at you expectantly. You cocked your head to the side, your brow furrowed.

“Lift,” he said, his face reddening with blood. Your nose twitched and, bracing yourself against the lid of the toilet, you lifted your hips. Off came two sets of pants, which confused you greatly.

“Why was I wearing two pants?” You asked, grasping his shoulders tightly as he made you stand, your legs failing you almost entirely.

“That was underwear,” he explained patiently, setting you gently in the warm water. You curled up, pressing your knees to your chest, feeling your rough skin brush against you uncomfortably. With bright eyes you stared up at him, watching him grab various bottles from the counter.

With a cup he poured water over your head, and a pleasant feeling washed over you as it ran down your back and over your eyes. He pressed two fingers to your forehead, tilting your head slightly so it wouldn’t fall into your eyes. He did this two more times, fully soaking your head before popping open a bottle. Out of it poured a white mixture, one he rubbed up against his hands before reaching for you.

You cringed backwards, baselessly fearing what it could’ve been. He paused, drawing backwards and explaining himself.

“It’s to wash your hair,” he said, and as you let him rub it into your scalp, you heard him whisper to himself, “what happened to you?”

You didn’t answer, assuming he didn’t really want an answer, and simply enjoying the pleasure his hands brought. As he dug deeper into your hair you keened upwards into it, letting your eyes close. He let his hands run the full length of your hair once, then twice, before rinsing his hands and pouring water over you to rinse the shampoo from you.

“Enjoying yourself?” He teased as he opened up another bottle. You waited as he turned the bottle upside down, pouring it now over your shoulders. From its cold temperature you shrunk, still letting him do what he thought he needed to do.

He rubbed the white soap into your skin, over your shoulders and neck, up into your cheeks. That was the most enjoyable part - letting him cup your jaw, one hand on either side as his thumbs rubbed your cheeks. Eventually he had to stop, gently washing your nose and forehead.

The silence clearly made him uncomfortable you noted as he washed the dirt off your arms. You, however, didn’t mind it in the slightest.

“Just one more,” he said, holding up the last bottle. You nodded.

This time, unlike the first time, he combed it through your hair. Relaxing into his touch you closed your eyes, once more leaning into him. You couldn’t trust him, not in any way, but…

“Feel better?”

You nodded.

The two of you tried to get your feet to work but they refused, and your wet body flopped uselessly into his arms.

“Sorry,” you said, noticing his own clothes getting soaked.

“It - it’s fine,” he stammered, his face growing hot and red. He held you up, grabbing the towel with one struggling hand and wrapping it around you. Half shivering you sat on the edge of the tub, watching as he leaned over you, draining the sudsy water away.

Eventually, all dried up and in fresh clothes that smelled very specifically of him, you sat on the bed eating the cold pasta he’d given you.

“I can warm it up you know,” he said, watching you eat by the bedside.

You shook your head, the food still hanging out of it. He shrugged, excusing himself for a moment, and coming back with a thin, silver block.

“What -“

“I thought you might want to watch a movie or something,” he said, setting it down and opening it.

Oh, you thought to yourself, marveling at the bright screen. I’ve heard of these computers.

Typing on the board he pulled up a website, clicking quickly on a movie and settling in beside you.

“If you don’t like it I can change it,” he said, allowing you your space on the bed.

White Christmas came up on the screen. The quality was grainy but colorful, the music wonderfully melodic. Music wasn’t a common thing in the heavens. That is to say, the music of the stars would hardly qualify as the music humans knew on earth.

As the movie came to a close he shut the laptop, sliding off the bed, the computer beneath his arm.

“Get some sleep,” he said, watching you shift downwards so your head lay on the pillows. You didn’t really need to sleep, you wanted to tell him. You never had, but for some reason you wanted to close your eyes anyway. As you did, the creak of the door signaled his leave. In the silence of night you wondered how long you’d be allowed to stay.

You didn’t wake again till the next day was halfway through. The man told you so, telling you it was 12, and with your confused face in return, he began to describe time.

“I really don’t understand why you don’t know this stuff. Are you sure we can’t go to a hospital?” He asked gingerly, his head tilted downwards but keeping your gaze.

“If you take me to a hospital -“

“You’ll turn me inside out. I know, yeah…” he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “Listen, I’m having friends over tonight. I think it’d be best if you just stayed in here. It’s a bit hard to explain, but I think it’ll be safer, okay?”

Slowly you nodded, half understanding that all you needed to do was stay in the room you were in. You were patient. Millenia of listening to Gods’ slow voice allowed for that.

“They’re coming over in about an hour. This,” he grabbed your wrist, latching a clock around it, “will tell you when that is.”

Examining the silver band, the light above you reflected into the glass, making you shut your eyes tight.

“Don’t do that,” he grumbled, pulling your wrist away from its position.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s fine. You hungry?”

You shook your head, knowing that you didn’t need to eat. You really, really, really didn’t need to eat, but your stomach growled loudly, your eyes widening as you stared down at it.

“You have no idea how your body works, do you?”

You gulped. How could he ever had found out?

With a sigh he helped you stand, and with his arm around your waist and yours around his shoulders, you limped to the door, heading out into the hallway and the rest of what you presumed was his home. It was nicely lit, with mostly white walls and rather comfortable furniture. You sat on the couch, watching him intently as he prepared some sort of food for you again. He finished, setting the plate in front of you.

“You eat it with your hands,” he told you, already assuming you’d never seen a sandwich before. He went to leave, but you grasped his wrist tight, forcing him to face you. Jarred by your strength his mouth hung open and he gaped at you, confused and alarmed.

“Thank you,” you murmured, staring directly into his eyes.

“Uh… yeah. ‘Course,” he stammered, wriggling free from your lessened grasp. With wary eyes, darting to you in fear, he left the room. Nose twitching, you grabbed the sandwich with your hands, taking a massive bite.

By your last bite, you still hadn’t seen him, but the door had been knocking for several minutes. As time continued the knocking got louder, more furious, till voices came as well, demanding that the door be opened. Pounding footsteps came from the hallway, rushing through the living room till the man, auburn hair flying as he ran past ran straight into the door, ramming his chin against the wooden door.

“Fuck! Ah, sorry, give me a - uh,” he turned to you, still jiggling the door handle, “room?”

“There’s room,” you replied.

“No, go to the bedroom!”

“I can’t stand!”

“What’s going on behind there?” Came the voice behind the door.

“One second guys, just, uh,” he helped you to your feet, “getting dressed.”

“I don’t mind you being naked,” another voice said, drawing a belt of a laugh from the man behind the door.

“They’re… joking,” he mumbled to you, kicking the door open and setting you down on the bed. Though rushed, he tucked you in, fluffing the pillow and quickly turning out the light. Disgruntled, you fidgeted under the covers, keeping your eyes open as you listened to the voices outside.

“I heard two voices,” one of them said, not your man.

“You’re crazy,” the other said.

You buried your nose under the covers. They continued their conversation, talking about things you couldn’t understand, things you knew you would get if you just had your angelic powers back. They allowed you to understand the non-understandable.

“Do you usually eat naked?” One of the men asked, and in an instant you recalled your nearly all-the-way-eaten sandwich.

“No,” your man replied quickly. “That was from a while ago.”

“Someone’s sloppy.”

“Yeah, Jesus Christ, clean up after yourself!”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that when I see him next,” your man said with a laugh.

They resorted once more into language you couldn’t understand, a switch clicking in the room and then the sound of many voices emanating from the living room. Your chest felt restricted, and your stomach still empty, so you dug yourself deeper into the sheets, hoping the uneasy feeling would soon cease.

A few more minutes clutching your stomach and it did not. Perhaps something was wrong with you? You knew very little about the complexities of humans. Maybe you needed to eat more. So, on shaky legs, keeping your arms on the bed you stood, being mainly supported by your arms. Stumbling you made your way to the wall, walking beside it towards the door. He had said not to leave the room, but something felt wrong, so terribly wrong, that you were sure he wouldn’t mind. Your logic was so: he would, most likely, prefer to find you wobbling into the living room rather than to find you dead on the bed. Could you die? You weren’t sure, but chances weren’t a thing you were ready to take.

Walking through the short hallway you kept your hands pressed to the wall, coming up behind the couch that three men now sat on, a large screen on the wall turned on to some sort of entertainment.

Which one was him? None of them were facing you, and you didn’t know if humans all looked the same. Supposedly they didn’t, but to someone like yourself who wasn’t accustomed to their faces, maybe they would all look similar. You went by hair color. The man in the middle had golden hair - that wasn’t your man. The one on the left was taller, with brown hair. On the right was the auburn hair. You tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to look up at you, fear and surprise burning right into your skin through his eyes.

His shock brought the other two from their entrancement with the screen, turning to see you as well. For a moment, everything was silent. They stared at you, you stared right back.

“Give me a moment,” your man suddenly said, jumping over the back of the bed and all but dragging you back to the hall.

“I feel wrong,” you said before he could get angry. He furrowed his brow, confused, but listening. “My chest aches. I feel empty here,” you said, bunching up the shirt you wore and pointing to your stomach area.

He sighed, an exasperated sound, his head falling to your shoulder.

“You’re thirsty,” he finally told you, pulling you with a more gentle touch back into the kitchen and sitting you down on a barstool. He went to grab a glass from the cupboard.

“So, uh, going t’ introduce us?” The blond asked, his voice deep and strange.

“Uh, this is, um,” he tried to say, realizing as he made eye contact with you that neither of you knew each others’ names.

“Mal,” you answered for him. It wasn’t your full, true name, as giving your whole name would give them power over you. That was something you couldn’t find yourself ever doing.

The two men on the couch looked at each other then burst out laughing, making you tilt your head slightly to the left, confused.

“Joey, you could’ve just told us you had a one night stand thing going on, he can join us,” the blond laughed, slapping the taller man on the shoulder. You looked back at your man, supposedly ‘Joey,’ with wide, bewildered eyes.

“Okay first of all, not a one night stand,” he glanced at you, “he’s just a… sick friend.”

“He?” You asked.

“She?” He tried out, but it didn’t help. A silence stretched as both of, utterly perturbed, stared at each other.

“Should we go?” The tall man asked, pointing back at the blond and then himself.

“No, it - it’s fine,” Joey stumbled, handing you a glass of water. “Mal just needs sleep.”

You nodded along. Whatever was happening could be discussed later. He tilted the glass to your mouth, and you opened it, allowing the water to slip through.

“Make sure you’re not breathing when you drink,” he whispered in your ear, quickly jumping back to the couch between his friends. You did as told, almost choking on it but swallowing nonetheless. Feeling your back hurt you stretched, reaching your arms for the ceiling. A sudden burst of pain flooded through your spine, electrocuting your head and tingling through your fingertips.

You let out a strangled, quiet cry, holding your shoulders with your hands. Joey turned to you in a flash, looking at you over the edge of the couch.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Probably,” you answered, shrugging, and gesturing to the screen when he wouldn’t turn away from you. Hesitant, he turned back, watching the delightful characters running around.

Every now and then, over the next few hours they’d go back to the kitchen, grabbing brown bottles from the fridge and downing them rather quickly. You watched from your seat patiently.

“You want one?” The tall one asked, moving to hand you one.

“Uh, that’s probably not a good idea,” Joey stopped him before you could make up your mind, pulling the tall man back by his arm. The man just shrugged, smiling at you, and popping open his own bottle.

“How’d - how’d you two meet?” The blond asked, and by that point you realized that the drink must’ve been doing something to them. They swayed in their stance, their voices clogged and speech dumbed.

“He - she, uh, fell… on the subway. Helped him - her - uh, them, up,” Joey responded, swirling his drink.

“Wait, wait wait,” the tall one turned to you, leaning in close and examining you. You remained rigid. “Are you a guy or a girl?”

“I am the heavens personified. I don’t fall into binary categories that you assign to know the others genitalia.”

All three of them laughed at that. You, on the other hand, found little humor in it. By the end of the evening the three of them became so intoxicated on whatever was in those drinks that you had to convince them, very sloppily to stop, which in the end, they finally acquiesced.

They insisted you come sit with them on the couch, trying to pull you from your seat.

“I want to avoid walking,” you informed them curtly, trying to get them to stop.

“Alright-y then,” the blond said, suddenly lifting you out of your seat and carrying you, laughing and giggling with his friends as he sat you on his lap on the couch. Awkward and confused you shifted, getting comfortable with where you now were.

“Okay okay so - Mal insists on no more drinks, so umm… no drinking games,” Joey slurred, holding his fingers out and counting ‘no drinking games’ on one.

“Beer pong!” The tall one suggested. The blond knocked him on the head as Joey laughed.

“Drinking is literally the main thing in that game, Gwil,” the blond wheezed out. Ah, you thought, so the tall one is named Gwil.

“Uh, Mal knows like, nothing about being alive,” Joey started, and you couldn’t entirely disagree. “So something simple?”

“Truth… or dare,” Gwil suggested in a dramatic whisper, pointing to the blond as he said truth, and to Joey when he said dare.

“What are we, seven?” Joey asked, sticking his tongue out in disapproval.

“You said simple!”

Both Gwil and Joey continued arguing as the blond whispered in your ear, telling you the rules of the game, keeping his voice low to avoid being heard by the other two. You listened intently, leaning into him. In turn, he kept his hand around your waist, keeping you from sliding off.

“Alright, fine!” Joey finally conceded, throwing his hands up in the air. “Do you know how to play?” He asked, looking at you.

You nodded.

“Wow, I’m surprised,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“I just taught him,” said the blond.

“Her,” Gwil corrected.

“Both!” Joey added.

“Or neither,” Gwil and the blond said at the same time, and the three of them broke into childish laughter again.

As it died, Joey asked, “what were we talking about again?” which really only spurred the laughter on further.

The rest of the night proceeded in similar fashion, growing calmer as the drink went through their systems. You never did get to play that odd game.

“Stay the night, won’t you?” Joey asked them, but they refused, saying they got a hotel room in the city.

“Besides,” the blond added, “looks like you’ve got plenty of company.” Along with this he wiggled his eyebrows, winking. Gwil snorted, saying his good byes along with the blond and shutting the door.

“Joey -“

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, stumbling only slightly as he came over to you. Arm wrapped round your waist he helped you up, walking you through the hall, into the room, and into the bathroom to sit you on the toilet seat.

“I’m not dirty,” you stated, watching him rub his face with water running from the sink faucet.

“Should change your clothes anyway,” he said with a sigh, drying his hands and helping you out of his shirt. “Ah shit,” he mumbled, suddenly remembering you needed another pair of clothes to get into. He left the room to look for clothing, door wide open, as you sat half naked on the seat.

Curious as to what your back looked like, hoping desperately that maybe if you just looked you’d get your wings back, you stood shakily, grasping the counter to turn around and look at yourself in the mirror.

Down your back ran two massive tears, open and cracked with blood. Surprised, you reached to touch them, shrinking away from your hand when you did so.

“Jesus,” Joey breathed out, standing in the doorway of the bathroom. You turned quickly to him, wondering if you’d done something wrong. “They must’ve cracked open when you were with me and my friends.”

“What?”

“They looked a little more put together when I last saw ‘em,” he explained, turning your back to him to examine them further. “Not bleeding at least. God…”

His finger traced the outline of them, causing spikes of pain to run through you whenever he got too close.

“You’re sure about the hospital?” He asked.

“I will -“

“Yeah, okay,” he interrupted you, getting your point without your threat. For a few moments more you let him touch you, gently trying to see how bad it was. “I have bandages,” he said as he withdrew. You turned around expectantly.

He sighed, bending down and opening a door underneath the sink, pulling out a long, thin cloth, all rolled up. Slowly, aware of your careful watch, he wrapped the fabric around your chest, starting right beneath your arms and going down to the end of your ribs.

When he finished you grabbed his wrist, tugging him down to you.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, slowly realizing that that was just how you thanked people.

In silence he undressed and dressed you, wondering to himself if you’d ever be able to dress yourself. Would he have to teach you? You, on the other hand, were thinking about his friends. They all felt oddly intimate.

He put you to bed after that, brushing the short hair out of your eyes, noting quietly to you that it had grown slightly longer.

“It sure grows fast,” he said, pulling the sheets over your bed. He made to leave, stopped by your grip on his wrist once more capturing him.

“Where do you sleep?” You asked quietly.

“On the couch.”

“Is that comfortable?”

“Yeah, I think it is,” he said with a shrug.

“Alright,” you murmured, releasing him and tucking yourself back into the blankets. He smiled, patting your shoulder and leaving the room.

Routine proceeded from that day on. You would wake up by afternoon, and he would force you to eat and drink, every so often leaving his home, but never telling you why. On those days, he’d usually come back with bags, and oftentimes would help you with bathing.

“You need to learn how to do this yourself,” he told you one day, rubbing soap into your cheeks and neck.

“I like when you do it,” you responded, making him choke on his breath.

“Whatever you want,” he responded, his words rushed out.

One morning when you awoke, he wasn’t there. First you called for him, as he usually noticed when you stirred, but you earned no response. You then stood, walking with a nice cane he’d gotten you a few days ago. ‘Just for now,’ he said, ‘’till you heal.’ Still, no sign at all of him, except a note taped to the door. You couldn’t read it, as all you could really read was Enochian. So you sat. And waited.

It wasn’t long till the sound of his key at the door came, turning the gears of the lock till it opened, revealing him and a man behind him.

“Mal, hey,” he said, opening the door to allow the man behind him in before closing and locking it. In a small motion you waved at him. “This is my friend, Rami. Say hi Rami.”

The man, Rami, glared at Joey (who you’d learned recently was actually named ‘Joe’) before approaching you with his hand outstretched.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, waiting for you to make a move. Hesitating only a second, you slapped his open hand.

From the kitchen Joe snorted, laughing at what you’d just done.

“What?” Looking up at Rami, he looked equally amused and confused.

“You’re supposed to shake his hand,” Joe explained, waking over and demonstrating the proper greeting movement with his friend. Slowly you nodded, shaking Rami’s hand, feeling the warm roughness of his palm.

“You may call me Mal,” you said, looking him in the eye. He chuckled, nodding.

“He’s flown in from L.A. to stay a few days. I don’t -“ he turned to Rami, “- did you get a hotel room?”

“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be a problem getting one if need be,” he said, setting his bags down near the door.

“I only have one bed, but I guess someone could share,” Joe said with a shrug, pulling two beer bottles out of the fridge and relaxing next to you, Rami on the other side of him as he turned on the television.

After a while of being rather annoyed by a plot you couldn’t understand, you nudged Joe, telling him so.

“Take this,” he said, handing you his laptop. “Go wild.”

You fiddled with it, grabbing your cane and walking back into the bedroom. Sitting on the bed you opened it on your lap, immediately coming face to face with a search tool. If Joe had only known what you would do, he would’ve never handed you the laptop, as this was most definitely one of the worst decisions in the world. Instead, he left you to your own chaotic devices, and the first thing you looked up was ‘do i need to eat?’, which lead to ‘how do human organs work,’ to ‘what are sex organs,’ and, one can guess where that led.

Eventually that led only deeper into the Internet, to what drugs were, into drug arrests, and every sinful thing put on the news, to odd songs about sex and drugs simultaneously, and movies about rockstars.

“Hey, you doin’ okay?” Joe asked, his hands on either side of the doorway, leaning into the room. Silently, you turned the computer around to a headline reading, ‘Florida Man bites off his brother’s penis after he walks in on his brother having sex with his cousin on his favorite Dragon Ball Z blanket.’

“Jesus Christ, I can’t leave you alone for two seconds,” he grumbled, shutting the laptop and tucking it under his arm.

“It’s been an hour,” you reminded him helpfully. He ignored you.

“Rami can’t find any affordable hotel rooms, he needs to stay here for the night. He’s got a room for tomorrow onwards,” he informed you, helping you up and back into the living room, setting his computer on the bar counter.

“I told him I can sleep on the couch but he won’t listen to me,” Rami said, tapping his fingers on the back of the couch, watching as you sat on a barstool.

“Absolutely not. I won’t stand for it,” Joe responded, flopping onto the couch to sit beside his friend.

“Then where’s your friend going to sleep?” He asked, gesturing to you.

“We’ll work it out. It’s late, you’ve got work to do in the morning,” Joe said, tugging Rami off the couch and pushing him to the bedroom.

“Right, of course Mom,” he grumbled as the door shut loudly behind him. You simply watched, stoic and silent, as Joe returned into the living room, hands on his hips.

Mumbling mostly to himself, he helped you over to the couch.

“Are we sleeping together?” You asked as he stood. Stammering, he attempted an answer.

“Uh - sort of I guess? I mean, you - you don’t have to, you’re always talking about how you don’t need sleep, but I still think you should, not necessarily with me, but I just mean you need to sleep, and I guess since there’s only the couch left you could sleep there and I’ll just… sleep on the floor?”

“Is the floor comfortable?” You asked.

“Um, not really?”

“Then sleep on the couch,” you said, pulling the back cushions out to make room for him.

“Uh….”

You patted the couch and, stumbling only a second, he sat beside you. Reaching behind him, you grabbed a pillow from off the edge of the cushions, setting it up for his head on the end of the couch. Gently, you made him lie down, wrapping him up in a blanket hung over the back. He stuttered something incoherent, watching and only protesting mildly as you stood, taking the short trip to the light to turn it off. Setting your cane down, you crawled in next to him, pressing your body against his in the tight space.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said, his voice cracking as you put his arm around you for your own comfort, “where did you come from? Do you even remember?”

“I was an angel,” you answered honestly, fully believing that he’d take your word. What you didn’t expect was for him to hold back a laugh, looking down at you.

“Really?”

“I fell from heaven. My form changed. I’ve never been to earth before now.”

“Well that certainly explains a lot. If it was believable,” he muttered, shifting under the blankets you’d gotten to be more comfortable.

“It’s the truth. I am bound by ethereal powers to never lie so -“

“You could just as easily be a person lying,” he interrupted, now unwilling to meet your eye.

“Ask me a question about God, or the world... something you’ve always wondered,” you tried, hoping he’d ask something you knew about.

He waited, his head now facing fully away from you as he thought. Outside a storm grew, but the only thing you could think about was him.

“Which religion is right? Is it the Christians?”

“All of them are right. Every god or goddess to ever be told of exists. They congregate every now and then. I sit by Gods’ side during those meetings. The god Jewish, Muslim, and Christian people believe in, that is.”

“What happens when we die?”

“Whatever you think.”

“What?” He turned to you.

“If one believes they will become the clouds, they will become the clouds. If they believe nothing happens, they die. Their consciousness is wiped. There is a heaven, reincarnation, and a hell, but not much happens in hell.”

“Wait, what happens in hell then?”

“I haven’t been there often,” you said, recalling the last time God had a meeting with their son. “Lucifer is actually rather calm. It’s just… imagine if a bunch of criminals and people who thought they were awful were put into one area. There isn’t any torture or demons, just people who believed they were going to hell.”

“Okay, lots of questions about that -“ he laughed, “- so it’s basically Afterlife Australia?”

You shrugged. In honesty, you had no idea what Australia was, but he was probably right. You trusted him as far as you could.

“And if someone who was a good person, but just really hated themselves and thought they would go to hell, would they go to hell?”

“That’s what the angels Kiraman Katibin, Phanuel, Nakir, and Abathar Muzania are working together for,” you said, and in that moment you realized you probably shouldn’t be trusting this information to a human. Nonetheless, you continued. “They… judge, sort of. Like Ma’at and her 42 judges for Egyptian afterlife, for those that believe in that.”

“… interesting.”

He left it at that. You snuggled in closer, his breathing grew harsher, but the both of you fell into easy sleep. By morning, he awoke first, jostling you awake when he reached for a note on the table. Leaning over to look, your cheek resting on his shoulder, you asked what it said.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, his face warm. “Jus’ that he’s left already.”

“Oh.”

“God, I need to get off my ass,” he muttered under his breath to himself. He stood, stretching his hands to the sky, before releasing the tensions with a deep sigh. Plodding into the kitchen, he turned on the sink, pulling down another glass and drinking from it once it filled to overflow. You picked the cushions back up off the floor, putting them back into place.

Making his way back over to you, he collapsed back onto the couch, relaxing into the cushions.

“Really hoping you don’t kill me for saying this, but I’m half convinced you’re insane,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. The whole situation with you was clearly stressing him out - even you could tell.

“How may I settle these worries?”

“Prove it. But if you’re fallen, you probably don’t… have any powers, or whatever.”

“I have scars down my back from my wings,” you reminded him.

“It could just as easily be that you were tortured, badly, and to cope with it you’re imagining that you’re an angel. All this information you’re giving is just personal beliefs. Stuff you could look up on the internet.”

“I… don’t know if I have any power left,” you said quietly, and your heart began to ache, weighing heavily through your body. Your touch possibly had power - humans loved to touch. It was essential to their lives. Maybe, just maybe, your touch had power.

“You think of ways to get the truth. I’ll make breakfast,” he said, grunting as he stood and patting your knee.

You sat, the crackle of frying eggs in the background as you buried yourself in thoughts. Your wings and halo were gone, you knew that for absolute sure. The feeling of them leaving you, how it tore you from yourself, stretching and pulling till it finally ripped, burning as everything you knew evaporated away. What was left when all was taken from you? Even your eyes, the ones that allowed you to look upon Gods, that let you return home and fully see the truth, the heavens and all that you loved, they were gone too.

Your soul. You still had that, didn’t you?

Grabbing your cane from the fallen position it had taken on the floor, you came to stand behind him, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned down the heat of the stove, turning around to face you, jumping back when he saw how close you were.

“I still have my soul. I’m… I’m not sure what I can do with it, but,” you looked up at him, eyes glittering a very suddenly bright blue, a change from your usual color, “can I try?”

“Af-after breakfast. Eat something first,” he stammered, grabbing plates from behind him, filling them with the eggs and toast, before setting it down on the table and sitting down. Your nose twitched once, but you sat down across from him, eating what he’d prepared, all the time wondering what would happen.

As the two of you finished he grabbed your plates, and from then on, essentially ignored you. Dodging you, not speaking to you, telling you to get more sleep, all of it you knew was more of an avoidance of the subject of your soul. In your weakened state, there was little you could do but let him force you to sleep.

So you slept. Into the next week, you slept. By the second day when you hadn’t woken up Joe began to worry, sitting at your bedside, making sure you were still breathing. Every evening his friend Rami would come over, asking where you were, and he would say you were sleeping.

“You should take them to a hospital,” he said, worry lacing his tone though he did not know you.

“I want to, but whenever I suggest it they pretty much make death threats.”

By the time you woke up, he was prepared to call the hospital, and Rami had already left, heading back to L.A.

“What are you doing,” you asked, monotone as you sat up, watching him about to dial the number on his phone.

“You’re awake!” He exclaimed, dropping his phone and rushing to hug you. “I thought you were dying!”

“I can sleep for extended periods of time. It’s to accommodate for my life span,” you informed him curtly, your arms plastered to your side as he squeezed you.

“That’s called a coma,” he spoke right into your ear, sighing as he released you, sitting beside you on the bed.

“Sounds like your problem.”

“It certainly feels like it. Why didn’t you warn me?”

“You were trying to get me to sleep, so I did.”

He glared at you, mentally noting to himself that you were petty in a very special way. Helping you out of the bed, cane forgotten, he kept you upright, leading you into the living room and onto the couch. From there he fed you, made sure you drank, and suggested a bath. You agreed.

Hoisting your arm around his shoulders, the two of you made your way slowly to the bathroom. There he did the usual; undressing you, filling the tub with warm water, and pushing up his sleeves to his elbows. Helping you into the tub, he sat on the edge, pouring shampoo onto his hands.

“You’re sure you’re okay with me doing this?” He asked, still unsure about the whole nudity you had.

“It seems to me you’re the only one bothered by it.”

“Wow, okay. Called out,” he said, chuckling to himself. “The tea is scorching.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said with a snort, still smiling to himself as he rubbing the shampoo into your scalp. You let yourself enjoy it, pushing into his touch with a blissed out expression.

“You should join me,” you mumbled as he pulled away. He halted, staring wide eyed at you.

“I should what?”

“Join me,” you repeated, watching carefully as a sudden smile grew on his face. He turned away, shaking his head, but still smiling in a dumbfounded way.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, ignoring your request to rinse his hands, “considering how little you know about human etiquette. Wouldn’t be too surprising if you never visited earth.” He mumbled his words, voicing his thoughts in an airy fashion.

“If you would just let me show you -“

“Mal,” he interrupted you, facing you with a sudden seriousness. “If souls are real, and if what you’re saying is real. Don’t you think it’d be dangerous? I don’t know what you’re planning, but using your soul has to be dangerous.”

“Might be. I need your trust,” you pleaded. “I will go to great lengths to get it.”

“Why?” He asked simply, tired of wondering quietly.

“Just for a moment, believe me,” you asked of him, and he nodded. “As an angel, we are built to never make our own decisions. God’s guidance is bright, and our halos blind us. Physically, we can trust no one but our God. When I fell, I… I was left alone. No longer blind, but able to make my own decisions, but in the way that I’d never done that before, I was still blind. Wh-What I’m trying to say is, I’m not built to trust anyone other than God. Joe, I trust you.”

Sometime in the middle of your speech he had stopped breathing, staring at you as unmoving as you usually were. Knowing his silence was filled with his thoughts and not his passiveness, you waited, watching for his movement.

“Okay,” he said. “Prove it.”

Moving slowly, you sat on the edge of the bathtub, naked as the day you fell from the sky. You reached for him, starting at his hand and moving up. Breathing unevenly, he kept his eye on your hand as it moved, up to his shoulder and up his neck, resting on his cheek. Pushing your other hand underneath his shirt, you came up to where his heart would rest. Closing your eyes, you let your head rest on his shoulder, pouring all the energy you could right into where your hand was.

In an instant you could feel his heart beat harshly through his skin, fast and powerful. Intaking a deep breath, you continued to try to intertwine your souls, or to at least let your own soul burn through his skin, enough to leave a mark. Anything to prove yourself.

As you withdrew he finally began to breathe again, taking deep breaths as you drew your hands back into your lap. Slowly he raised his shirt, having felt the intensity of what you’d just wrought, showing a soft golden glow emanating from his chest. His breathing started to pick up, growing faster as he realized you were telling the truth.

“I -“

“Don’t scream,” you said as his mouth opened wide.

“I wasn’t gonna scream,” he said, his voice choked and tight.

“… do you believe me now?” You asked softly, looking up at him earnestly.

“Don’t think I have a choice,” he murmured.

As his breathing slowed, an urge ran through you, one you allowed. Hesitantly, you moved closer, resting your forehead in the crook of his shoulder, closing your eyes and relaxing your muscles. He wrapped his arms gingerly around you, letting you lie still in his hold, running his touch down your spine.

“You’re really an angel, then?” He whispered, a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to: yes.

“I was. I’m human now. I belong to you,” you mumbled against his skin, your lips warm from the heat radiating off the soft skin of his neck.

“You belong to yourself, now. No one can take that away from you, especially not me.”

You remained silent, contemplating your words as you matched your slow breathing to his, your hand pressed against his chest.

“I want to belong to you.”

Moving from your position against his shoulder, you met his eye, close enough to feel his breath. He waited for you, patient as your gaze flickered from his lips and back up to his eyes.

“I need to be yours,” you murmured, leaning further in, a distance he met you in the middle for.

It was a strange sensation, his lips moving against yours - alien and familiar all at once, and when he pulled you closer to him you could feel yourself melting. Your chest shuddered with the force of your emotion, one you might’ve identified as love, had you known the words’ meaning.

I love you, he murmured against your lips, loathing to part from your warmth, but the desperate need to speak his mind overpowered his hate. You hummed when he kissed you again, cradling his jawline in your hand and rubbing your thumb over his cheek just as he’d done to you.

And in every way you allowed yourself the comfort of belonging, just as he held tight the reverence you gave him.

#joe mazzello x reader #joe mazello imagine #joe mazzello #female reader #male reader #gender neutral reader

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